You want weapons? We're in a library! Books! The best weapons in the world! This room's the greatest arsenal we could have - arm yourselves!
-- Doctor Who
What's this, two posts in one night? Could it be our Library Lass is procrastinating on the homework front? Maybe.... But it's not like Troilus or Criseyde are going anywhere this evening. And so...
It occured to me that this "Off the Cart" thing is a great way to talk about some of my favorite picture books, books that might not merit an entire post by themselves but are totally made of awesome nonetheless. I love flipping through the new books, and I especially like processing the new picture books because I don't read them much. I don't have any kids and my littlest relatives live in another town, so I don't have an audience. And story time at the Lib frankly terrifies me. I am assured of never having to do a puppet show because I keep proposing an adaptation of Titus Andronicus, although I did offer to adapt "The Fox" for our most recent show. A little less bloody.
Anyway, here are just a few of the coolest recent picture books.
Oh, you might think a pig parade would be cute and cuddly, but comedian Black tells us otherwise. By the end you will agree that a pig parade is, indeed, a terrible idea.
Well of course they do. Why do you think it's so bad to be a whiny brat?
I Didn't Do It!by Patricia MacLachlan and Emily MacLachlan Charest
I love this book of doggy poetry mostly because the dog on the cover looks just like my folks' dog Spike. I also recommend the companion book Once I Ate a Pie.
This wordless picture book begins with a familiar enough tale -- Fox steals Chicken and the other forest animals give chase. But the ending is a delightful twist that will make you smile and maybe say, "D'awwww." And on an educational note, wordless picture books are excellent for developing readers. Ask your developing reader to tell you the story she or he sees unfold -- the ability to recognize narrative structure and to create a narrative is a crucial reading skill.
Lucy Bear finds the cutest little fella in the woods and she knows he's the pet for her. But, as the title says and as Lucy discovers, children make terrible pets.
This is one of the most gorgeous books I've ever seen. It's illustrated with intricate embroidered pictures. It makes me want to drop everything else to pick up needle and thread and get to work. Simply stunning.
I hope you're inspired to take a peek at some of the wonderful picture books coming out these days.
One of the greatest pleasures of my job is getting a first crack at the new books. Today I held a copy of The Lost Hero, caressed its new binding, marvelled at its non-sticky pages and germ-free cover, and then put it regretfully back on the shelf, cuz I gots homework.
from Goodreads
But I did get to read through Sara Varon's adorable graphic novel Bake Sale while on break, and it is every bit as charming as her book Robot Dreams. Varon's books tell sweet and lovely stories about friendship, perfectly illustrated with her lovely art work. It doesn't take long to read through these books, but if you have the chance to go through them at a leisurely pace, you will be delighted with all the details you find in the pictures. And, with Bake Sale, you get the added bonus of the recipes mentioned in the story, although I will say that I have never gotten over the heartbreak I felt the first time I actually tried Turkish Delight and discovered it was not a lovely toffee confection but was instead a gooey cube of yuck. *Sigh* Another Narnian disappointment.
But you will not be disappointed with Varon's books, although you might not want to read Bake Sale while you are hungry.
In honor of Banned Books Week and celebrating the freedom to read whatever I want, I picked three books that have been challenged in the last ten years.
Okay, so there were some F-bombs, and while I have mixed feelings about the use of swearing in real life and in lit (although I do swear in real life and so do the characters in my fiction), getting worked up about it, particularly in a book like this where the cursing is not liberally sprinkled throughout, is counterproductive. I mean, drawing attention to the words instead of thinking about the emotions behind the words is really just fingers-in-ears, lalalala I-can't-hear-you childishness. Mackler is a good writer and this story is important. Mara, the protagonist, is a driven goody goody and over the course of the story she learns to loosen up and have a bit of fun, but more importantly, she doesn't chuck over her entire life, even when she finds a fella. She still works hard in her classes, she still earns the valedictorian spot, she's still going to Yale. I think it's important for teens to see a character who knows how to work hard and learns to play instead of these extreme one side or the other (Bella Swan, I'm gunning for you). So yeah. I'm also adding Mackler's other frequently challenged book, The Earth, My Butt and Other Big Round Things to my To-Read List.
So I was inclined to not like this book when I picked it up, mainly because I know that I am so not the target audience. I pride myself on my sophisticated and refined sense of humor. Wilde and witticisms are my cup o' fancy pants tea. I'm classy, dammit. And you know what? I totally laughed at this book. It's fun and it's silly, and God forbid we encourage children to have fun and be silly. The world will come to a screeching hault. And if your kid causes trouble and disobeys you because Captain Underpantsencouraged it, then you are a TERRIBLE parent. And if I may step higher up on the ol' soapbox, I think these Captain Underpants books are perfect additions to a classroom library, particularly a junior high or high school because these books are rife with irony. Yeah, it's all great to talk about irony and satire and Swift and the like, but if you can give your students solid visuals and keep them engaged in a lesson, it's more likely to stick. Of course I'm not suggesting we chuck the entire curriculum in favor of Captain Underpants and Super Diaper Baby and company (not that you, dear readers, think I am). I'm simply advocating we teachers and librarians help broaden the literary horizons. Cuz our current school system is totally fucked*, so it can't hurt to try something new.
And finally, the most controversial book of the lot, my picture book selection. Yes, the most insidious and nefarious of texts,And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson and Peter Parnell and beautifully illustrated by Henry Cole. This book tops the ALA's frequently challenged books list for 2010 and shows up on the list every year since its 2005 publication. It has been challenged because it is: anti-ethnic, anti-family, homosexuality, religious viewpoint, sexism, and unsuited to age group.
May I just say -- quoi!? So two boy penguins raise a baby penguin together. Oh. Mah. God! It is the first sign of the end times!!!! Gay penguins, followed by blood rain and plagues of locusts. I mean seriously people. First of all, if you're so Christian, then how come you're saying animals have free wills and souls and are making the bad choice to be gay? Because in my good Catholic upbringing, we were taught animals are poor dumb beasts who don't have souls and therefore can't sin.
This book is really just a lovely sweet story. I am really puzzled by the "anti-ethnic" challenge. The crowd scenes have, as I recall, a very multicultural representation of zoo-goers. Perhaps if the penguins had not been the black and white chinstrap variety but instead had been king penguins, which are black, white and yellow? Really, the whole controversy is ridiculous and predicated on parents not wanting to, you know, parent. It really frosts my cookie. And now I'm getting all riled up before bed, again.
I guess what this whole week reminds me is that what really needs to happen is people need to just relax and be groovy to one another. It reminds me, too, that it can be scary to talk about big questions with young kids, especially if we, the all-knowing adults aren't quite so all-knowing, and so instead of toughing things out and working through the questions, or yelling the questions as I did with my Mom during our one major fight during my adolescence. Mom wanted to censor my viewing of Braveheart because she didn't think the violence was suitable for me (I was 15). But my mom did the right thing (even though I thought at the time and still kinda think that she was wrong) -- she decided that a film wasn't appropriate for her child, so she prevented her child from seeing the movie. She didn't go on a crusade to have the film blocked from distribution. She did her job as a parent, even if it wasn't pleasant to face my tantrum.
In that same vein, now that I'm an adult, I admire my mom. I know there are books that I won't give to my little cousins or, if I have kids, to my little kids, but I would never deny another parent the right to share them with his/her children, even if I do politely disagree with the choice. Okay, I might engage in a little name calling, but I will never remove a book from a library, nor will I lock them up in the restricted section, unless, like the Hogwarts library, the books in the restricted section might literally kill the reader.
So I'll wrap up this little tirade with the video my classmates made last year and with a quote from Mark Twain (or Neil Gaiman or maybe Shakespeare -- you never can tell with the Internet):
“The truth is, that when a Library expels a book of mine and leaves an unexpurgated Bible lying around where unprotected youth and age can get hold of it, the deep unconscious irony of it delights me and doesn’t anger me.”
“I don’t have a problem with her forbidding her daughter to read my book. But imposing her personal beliefs on every child at the school makes her no better than a book burner. As the playwright and journalist Clare Booth Luce once put it: “Censorship, like charity, should begin at home; but unlike charity, it should end there.”
— Sonya Sones, on the many challenges to the ever-fabulous What My Mother Doesn’t Know.(Source: Los Angeles Times)
READ. THINK. SHARE. And as Bill and Ted would say, "Be excellent to each another."
*See what I did there, using a swear word after I said I didn't really like it? Irony. Tell your friends.
How's you're week going so far, folks? Have you picked up something scandalous and controversial in honor of Banned Books Week? I am thoroughly enjoying my re-read of Vegan Virgin Valentine by Carolyn Mackler. I can't say I enjoyed reading Brecht or Pirandello or Dante, but I enjoyed the rollicking class discourse.
But today, a lovely and bright surprise was waiting on the new books cart just for me. Yes, friends, today I read the fifth book in the Clementine series, Clementine and the Family Meeting(2011).
from Goodreads
Sara Pennypacker has penned another charming story and Marla Frazee inked some charming pictures (seriously, I defy you to read this book and come up with a more apt descriptor than charming). As the title implies, there's Big News in Clementine's family. And not just big news at home. Clementine's science project just might be a bust if she and Waylon, her partner, can't find Eighteen, the white rat they were hoping to train.
The stories are adorable and charming and sweet. Clementine is the heir to Ramona Quimby -- don't talk to me about Judy Moody or Junie B. Jones. Clementine is where it's at. The stories are sweet, the pictures adorable and the writing is superb. They are easy enough for third graders to read on their own, but they are wonderful read-alouds with stories the kids will love and writing the adults can admire. Clementine's observations are spot on without being twee and precocious. Take this paragraph where she describes her friend Margaret's older brother Mitchell (and dude, I totally just got the Margaret Mitchell pairing):
Mitchell calls me great names like Dude-ette because he wants to be my boyfriend [Clementine is 8 and Mitchell is about 13]. So far, I haven't let him be my boyfriend, because I don't want one. But if I ever do want one, which I won't, and if it's ever Mitchell, which it won't be, now I knew what I should wear on our first date: my tool belt! (115-116)
Awww, sweet. And the perfect balance to heavy theory work and poetry.
I do wish I hadn't gotten so defensive when one of my theater classmates questioned when I what I was reading. I hate when I feel like I have to justify myself. Yeah, I'm reading Clementine and it is wonderful and okay, so it's not Foucault or anything, but it's still good and I read what I like.
So last year, I was in a class called Digital Rhetoric. It was amazing, but that's beside the point. For our final project, we broke into groups and made videos for local organizations. My group made this rad-tastic video* for the Boise Watershed (yay for poop!), but four of my other classmates made a gorgeous video about Banned Books Week. Do check it out, folks.
*Really, it was a fabulous experience, just not as glamorous or scandalous.
I just polished off another batch of delightful graphic novels: Lost at Sea (2003) by Bryan Lee O'Malley, Lola: A Ghost Story (2005) by J. Torres and Elbert Or and Hopeless Savages: Greatest Hits 2000-2010 (2010) by Jen Van Meter. I love that these titles give you a good range of what graphic novels can do, with nary a superhero in tights to be had (mostly).
book cover photos Goodreads
Lola: A Ghost Story is a beautiful and creepy story set in the Philippines. Jesse has traveled from Canada with his parents to attend his grandmother's, or Lola's, funeral. Jesse is not happy to be going, not just because the cause for the visit is a sad one, but because Lola was something of a witch or seer, and Jesse seems to have inherited Lola's powers. As if it isn't hard enough to be a teenager, or to navigate two very different cultures, or, again, to be a teenager, poor Jesse has powers that make him feel like a freak. I won't give any spoilers here, but I am concerned about Jesse, and I hope "The End?" as it stands on the last page is a clue that we might get more of Jesse's story. Unlike Jesse's life at the moment, the art is simple, uncluttered, evocative and lovely.
Lost at Sea could be a ghost story. Raleigh is a girl without a soul. It was taken by a cat when she was fourteen. She thinks. Why else would she be so awful and have such an awful time of things unless she was soulless? Raleigh's story unfolds during a road trip with people she barely knows, from California back to British Columbia. One night, unable to sleep, Raleigh realizes they are staying in the same motel where, she is certain, her mother sold her soul. Or did she? There are an awful lot of cats hanging around.
Did Raleigh lose her soul to a cat? Or is she just a bit fucked up, a bit lost on the sea of life? Maybe both, maybe neither. Lost at Sea is a lovely metaphor for the journey we must all take, the journey to figure out just who we are and how we fit into this world.
Not that I don't love my own family, but I have wanted to join up with a literary family a time or two: the Cuthberts, the Ingalls, but not during the Long Winter and not for very long -- just long enough to play with a pig's bladder balloon, dance to a reel drawn from Pa's fiddle, try some cracklings. But mostly, I'm satisfied with my own kin.
Until I met the Hopeless Savages. Father Dirk Hopeless and Mother Nikki Savage are punk rock legends, and their children Rat, Arsenal, Twitch and Skankabelle Zero are quite possibly the coolest family in all of literature. They would definitely kick the Osbornes in a fight. Sure, there's a kidnapping or two, some international espionage, high school heartbreak, but what family doesn't have its issues? The Greatest Hits brings together three stories of the Hopeless Savages, and I am smitten. Several artists, including some of my faves like Bryan Lee O'Malley and Hope Larson, bring Jen Van Meter's creations to life, and that life is darn awesome. And seriously, can I get Twitch and Zero as BFFs?
Now, you're probably wondering what the title of this post has to do with the books reviewed. Well friends, as I read, I was amazed to discover how many of my favorite current graphic novel and comic artists and authors are Canadian. They are the creators of, in my limited experience, some of the most diverse, well-rounded and interesting characters. And for me, that's hard to do in a graphic novel. The space for storytelling is limited, compared to novels, but these artists consistently produce amazing stories and art. And a few of the webcomics I've gotten into and followed for the last few years are drawn by Canadian gals -- and from what I understand of the comics business, we need moar ladiez and their POVs. I defy you to remain unmoved and unamused by Kate Beaton's Hark! A Vagrant (who has a book out soon) or Angela Melick's Wasted Talent (already has a book), and of course, Doug Savage of Savage Chickens (possibly the best thing in my life). Is there something in the air up in Canada that breeds amazing artists? Is it that, far from Mickey Mouse and Company's nefarious grasp, artists and writers are free to experiment and create? Is it the loooooong winters? I haven't been moved to really research, but I'm tempted to study up and write an article, maybe take a research trip? Idaho shares a bit o' the border with Alberta.
When I was younger, there was a show on Cartoon Network called O Canada which showcased the best of Canadian animation. I don't remember most of the segments (it was on really late at night and anyway, I was probably reading), but I do remember this terrifying short called "The Cat Came Back." As I think of it now, it seems like that clip is a beautiful piece of absurd modern cinema, but I really don't want to watch it again. Seriously creeped me out. Also, I guess there are anime versions of Anne of Green Gables and Emily of New Moon? Mind = blown.
Anyway, what with my deep and abiding love for Anne Shirley and Emily Byrd Starr and my burgeoning love for graphic novels, I definitely think a trip north is somewhere in my future.
And now, I will leave you with my all time favorite Kate Beaton comic.
It's nearly my favorite holiday season! It's almostBanned Books Week! If I had money and were in the gift-giving spirit, I would buy copies of banned books for all my friends and loved ones. Alas, I do not have the money, but if you are so inclined, check out this list of the most frequently banned and challenged books for the last ten years, with statistics from the ALA.
To celebrate BBW, I'm going to read one YA book, one J fiction book and one picture book from these lists. That is, three total books, not one from each list. I still have that Chaucer, yo.
So here are my book choices. In the YA category, I'm reading Vegan Virgin Valentine by Caroline Mackler. This book was challenged in 2007 for inappropriate language and sexual situations. I actually read it around that time and I remember loving the story. I want something fun and non-paranormal, and this seemed like an awesome choice.
For the J fiction, I'm reading The Adventures of Captain Underpants by Dav Pilkey. Poor Captain Underpants has been under fire for years. In 2000-2005, it ranked number 9 out of the top 10 all time banned and challenged titles for that time period. Most often it is challenged for offensive language. I'm pretty sure I am not the demographic for this series, but I think I can handle talk of snot and farts.
And for the picture books, I'm reading And Tango Makes Three by Justin Richardson. This book has been banned and challenged since it was published in 2005, poor little story! The book is a fictionalized account of the true story of two male penguins who partner up and raise a penguin chick. It's challenged because, according to the challengers, it glorifies homosexuality.
So that's my plan. What, if anything, are you or your local library planning for Banned Books Week?
You may have noticed the slight air of angsty angst permeating the last few entries. Friends, there are few things better than a good graphic novel for shaking away the angsty blues. I've read some heavy theoretical and literature stuff in the last few weeks (Eros the Bittersweet by Anne Carson, "Beyond the Pleasure Principle" by Sigmund Freud, The Symposiumby Plato, plus theater theory, a couple downer plays and thousands of lines of Chaucer in Middle English to name but a few).
To shake off some of the angsty angst, I downloaded Adele's amazing new album and read a chunk of graphic novels. I finished off the Scott Pilgrim* series with Scott Pilgrim and the Infinite Sadness (2006, with a knowing nod to one of my all time favorite angsty bands and angsty albums, natch), Scott Pilgrim Gets it Together(2007), Scott Pilgrim Versus the Universe(2009), and Scott Pilgrim's Finest Hour (2010). I loved the luxury of getting more into the characters. I think I've found a literary soul mate in Kim Pine. Wallace Wells is one of my top ten literary side kicks, and Knives Chau is still the best character name ever. I mean, I dug the movie, even if I have issues with a lot of the casting, but I like the space the books give you to get into the characters lives and their world.
Besides the fact that these are engaging stories with great illustrations, I like that the stories are a great metaphor for early adult angst (I couldn't escape it entirely, but there was kung fu and evil robots, so that helped). I went straight to college -- three times, in fact, to escape having to really grow up. Even when I wasn't in college, when I was teaching, I was still trying to escape being a real grown up by taking a safe job in my hometown. And the whole fighting evil exes -- I mean, we all have pasts, and when people decide to hook up, they have to battle that, although thankfully, not with actual swords and robots. It's damned hard trying to figure out how to move forward, and reading some graphic novels is a lot more fun than therapy and theory.
pics from Goodreads
But now I'd like to introduce you to possibly the greatest graphic novel character of all time. If you haven't spent a lot of time in the children's department of your local library or bookstore, you may have missed the pure genius that is Binky the Space Cat. Yes, Binky the Space Cat. Binky, fearless protector of his humans and his space station, whose adventures are recounted in three books: Binky the Space Cat(2009), Binky to the Rescue (2010)and Binky Under Pressure (2011), the latest installment. These are charming stories, charmingly illustrated. Sure, they're for kids, but smart and cool grown ups will love the books, too.
*I realized as I looked back over my past posts that I didn't talk about Scott Pilgrim versus the World (2005) which I did read. I read the books in order, but I read the last four all in one day. So yep, I read the whole series. Moar please. ^_^
Regarding the smack down that's not really a smack down:
This seemed like a good idea at 3:30 this morning. I was stewing, still, and I also had "Turning Tables" stuck in my head and wishing my pain was worth Adele's gorgeous voice -- I did mention this was at 3:30 AM, I'm surprised I could still form sentences. I typed out this really earnest and rational entry on my iPod. I cleaned up the grammar because in it's original form, it looks like an alien language. Or maybe Welsh.
Grad School Smack Down -- really the equivalent of a braid tug
Remember how, in Anne of Green Gables, Anne gets crazycakes mad at Gilbert Blythe when he calls he carrots and she cracks her slate over his head and she gets in trouble and blames him? And then when he tries to apologize, she freezes him out, telling Marilla that she heaped scorn on him, that he was essentially dead to her? Even though she probably knew in her heart of hearts that she was being the teensiest bit proud and was probably a little wrong but she couldn't back down, not until she found out Gilbert had nearly died from scarlet fever or something equally horrible?
I'll never forgive him, Diana! Not as long as I live.
Yeah, that's what I'm kinda feeling about this whole non-smack down smack down.
I am still unreasonably irked with the Smacker. I am totes like Anne, 100% too proud for my own good, and while I will allow that Smacker is Gilbert in this equation, he is only Gilbert to the tiniest degree.
Shut up, jerkface!
Yes, I realize this paints me in a wholly ridiculous light (although I can't quite summon the image of a ridiculous light -- maybe light from a clown lamp?) -- a very unflattering light. I am being ridiculous and melodramatic, and I am FAR too comfortable as Anne.
So my question is this: should I be more worried that I am still annoyed by this trivial scholarly interaction or that I more easily relate to a fictional character than to the real people with whom I sit in class every week? Is this some sort of insanity or merely the mark of a true reader? Just how crazycakes does a girl have to be when she furtively searches the internets looking for a slate supplier so she can have one on hand, just in case she ever needs to make her point with this or any other Smackers? And will this hair dye turn my hair truly carroty red or am I doomed to have the auburn hair Anne so desperately wanted?
Oh Deb, your dark hair so pretty! But I finally have giant puffed sleeves!
And why am I still awake at 3 AM?
***
Weighty questions indeed. And when I went to class, how would I greet Gilbert? And like magic, another character presented her advice. Marmie March. So remember when horrible little Amy burns Jo's manuscript?
I'm special. Spoil me.
And then Jo threatens to kill her (rightly so, in my opinion)?
I'm totally going to kill you!
And then Marmie stops the fight and when she's consoling Jo, she says "Don't let the sun go down upon your anger."
I mean, Smacker totally didn't burn my novel. He just made a flippant remark. So I took Marmie's advice, and today in class, I was much nicer. Also, I discovered an acceptable alternative to coffee, thanks to my local cafe, Flying M, so I was adequately caffeinated.
And now we have tentative drinks plans.
Huzzah.
But it still doesn't answer the big question.
Is it totally crazy to turn to the great works of literature as a source of guidance, to imagine yourself as a character and act accordingly?
It's probably fine. As long as I don't imagine myself as Beth or as *sob* Ruby Gillis or someone else who dies of consumption.
Yes, the mid-semester blues have crashed in with a vengeance. Partly, this semester is more difficult than I anticipated. I mean, when I told myself I'd pick classes that would deliberately challenge me, I still expected the old noodle to kick in pretty quickly, and it would be lollipops and cake.
Friends, this semester is NOT lollipops and cake.
One of the unanticipated challenges of taking the classes I'm taking (Chaucer, American theater and film, love poetry) is that I'm struggling to figure out a) what I want to contribute to the dialogue on these topics and b) how what I'm learning can be more than just fascinating. How will this fit my real world work?
Probably I am just playing my usual trick of trying to force my life into the path I want it to take, and we all know that Lady Fortune keeps turning her wheel whether we will it or no (image courtesy of my Chaucer class readings and the pilot of Firefly.) Trying to wrangle with the unwrangleable is certainly a recipe for angsty angst.
Also, I found myself in an unexpected critical smack down! See, I got caught up in a discussion about the theory of gender construction that I was not prepared for, and I was also trying to avoid a parking ticket AND I had to rush home because I spilled coffee on my favorite white shirt. I mean, the smacker was bandying about Foucault this and Foucault that. I've managed to get this far in my grad school career and not read anything by Foucault, but he's certainly got a cult here at my university. Maybe he's deserving of this cult, but every time someone bandies about his sacred name, I want to shout at them, "Fuck Foucault! There are other points of view!"
Okay, I know that my hackles also rise when I'm confronted with my limitations and when I feel stupid. Doesn't mean I'm going to go out and read all of Foucault right this minute. ANYWAY...
So I dashed off, left the Smacker behind in the wake of my consternation, had a lovely weekend with my Momma, went to see The 39 Steps, staged by the sublime Idaho Shakespeare Festival, did zero homework, and returned to class, only to find out from reliable sources that SMACKER had talked his critical smack about me behind my back! The nerve!
And now, I find myself embroiled in a battle of the mind.
And for what? What is the point of deconstructing Keats's "Ode on a Grecian Urn?" Who cares if Criseyde is a fully developed character with full agency in her actions? Dialect? Really, O'Neill?
Please note that this is not an indictment of my professors, who are awesome, who have always made time to talk me through my questions and who are not, in any way, wasting their lives in the pursuit of these and other questions. But I think we can all agree that academia calls to different people in different ways. I'm just having a hard time figuring out what it's saying to me, but I'm reasonably sure it's not in Middle English.
Flash to Monday, and yet another kerfuffle about the de-gaying of a book* adds a does of real anger to the mere chagrin of the Critical Smack Down. Why can't I make people be sensible about these things? Isn't that what grad school is supposed to do, give me a voice? Yes, you are seeing the same crazycakes "logic" here that I apply to the rest of my life. And yes, I know that I have to speak up, no one is going to give me the microphone just because I'm smart and awesome and I know better. But I'm grumpy today.
Also, I've had to stop drinking coffee for a the foreseeable future. (Finally, we get to the real tragedy of my life. I also have to quit drinking wine and beer as all of them upset my stomach something fierce.)
Anyway, cue to Today. I'm grumpy, riled up, caffeine deprived, sick and rudderless.
And then Malinda Lo posted an entry on her blog today about the numbers of LGBTQ YA fiction. There are charts and graphs! I adore pie charts! Although I would have used exploding pie charts myself. But this post reminded me that what I find important. Good literature should stand up to critical examination. Not just adult literary fiction or classics or poetry, either. Children's and young adult lit should be closely examined. What Lo's post shows is that YA literature has published a lot of the same things for the last 40 years. There's improvement, but there is SO much room to grow.
Writing grows as it is examined and discussed and shared. What Lo's post tells me is that, while there are indeed some people making noise and making changes, there aren't enough. There are a bazillion Shakespeare scholars in the world, and while Shakespeare is wonderful and amazing and fascinating, he's not the only game in town.
I am lucky in that my profs have all been very encouraging of my search to bring a critical eye to a section of literature long left alone in the critical game. Unfortunately, Academia is not yet open to my inquiries. Too often, children's and young adult literature studies are relegated to the literacy department. And this is great and fine, because often teachers and librarians take these classes and they are most directly able to get books into kids' and teens' hands. I know that there are some universities, like UCLA, that are producing graduate work on children's and young adult fiction (beyond fairy tales -- that's pretty standard thesis fare), but I'm not in a position to go to one of the big schools.
So I guess I'll figure things out, get out of this funk, make some noise, write some articles (woo!) and take the critical skills honed against Chaucer and Shakespeare and Hardy and O'Neill and Williams, etc. and apply them to the lit that matters most to me.
*Further information -- while this particular kerfuffle has proven to be kerfuffley for other reasons, it -- and posts inspired by it -- brings to light the sore need for more LGBTQ YA lit AND the need to pause, take a breath, wait a day and then rant and write about things, n'est-ce pas?
Turns out the "frenzy" was less frenzy and more what-can-I-finish-whilst-reading-in-bed. I actually got out of the house, went to C-Town to visit my cousin who's a sophomore in and actually had classes on Labor Day! Is nothing sacred? Anyway, I got some sewing out of the way, watched a few movies, including my most favorite of all time. But I did read a couple graphic novels and have a few more on my night stand, so look for those in the coming weeks. In the mean time, I hope you enjoy this while I wrestle with Freud a bit more. Incidentally, it is very hard to read and appreciate the work Freud did because he's become a bit of a punchline. I kept wanting to respond to the essay with a hearty "That's what she said" or "Your mom is a traumatic neurosis." Not the height of scholarly inquiry, to be sure, but there you go.
So, school is starting to get me down. Not really, because it's interesting, but it has killed my desire to read prose for awhile. Fun prose. I even put down The Wizard of Dark Street, which I was really getting into reading. But I still want to read something, so I took home an armload of graphic novels and set to work.
I quite liked the story! I have seen the movie, but to be honest, I'm way over Michael Cera. I know he's the good little geek all the nerdy girls love, and honest, if I was 23, I'd probably love him, too, but I need someone with a little more spunk. Michael Cera just doesn't do it for me. But I am enjoying the story, which takes us through Ramona Flowers's first evil ex. If I was 23, I think I'd want to be Ramona Flowers. The gal's got spunk! I'm certainly contemplating trying out her hair style. I'm really enjoying O'Malley's art. Which is great because the next book I read was...
Twelve Reasons Why I Love Her (2006) by Jamie S. Rich and Joëlle Jones. (Fooled ya! But don't worry, there's more O'Malley to come.) Not to be confused with Thirteen Reasons Why, this graphic novel is really more like snapshots, twelve vignettes about the romance between Gwen and Evan. Each section shows a sliver of time in their relationship. You don't see things in order, but by the end of the book, you pretty much know how things are going to go. Or do you? There's a little sliver of action before the twelve official selections, and as I'm in a hopeful mood, I'm going to ... well, I'll leave it to you to decide how things stand between Gwen and Evan. And I love how Rich put song titles like a track list for each section. I put together a partial playlist on Spotify. I love mixtapes, so this was a nice treat. And Jones's art!
Jones's drawings are lyrical and beautiful. There are pages I want to tear out and frame (but since I got the book from the library, I'll refrain).
And that's all I managed this weekend. I do have Lost at Sea, O'Malley's first graphic novel at home and Scott Pilgrim 2-6 should be on the holds shelf when I go in to work on Wednesday.
