CAUGHT IN (Y)A MOSH

HEAVY METAL AND ME

It started at recess in 7th grade, when my closest friend would split ear buds with me and play Metallica tapes as we avoided social interaction with our peers. I stared at the skulls he painted on the Walkman and the image of Iron Maiden's Eddie taped into the player window, and thought, THIS IS REBELLION. At first it seemed like a wall of noise, because he usually got the bud channel with the guitar solos. After a few tries, metal started to make sense to me. I requested mix tapes, started pooling my pocket change to buy used tapes at the record store down the street from my house. By high school, I was a metal head at heart, and could talk for hours on end about the nuances of Steve Harris's bass tone or the stylistic shift in Metallica's music after Cliff Burton died, or plead with the more extreme dudes to accept Anthrax into the pantheon of greatness, because they deserve it, dammit. I'm just happy I didn't dress that way, because nothing says "please beat the crap out of me as I walk home through bad neighborhoods" like a Megadeth shirt, black jeans, spike bracelets, and stringy hair adorning your 120-pound gangling frame. I'd rush home every day to blast my favorites on the big stereo in the living room before my sister and her boyfriend came home and kicked me out so they could (shudder) "be together". Gross. 

Metal helped get me through the high school doldrums and long, hot summers. It helped me make friends at my age level and in the adult world when I worked in a restaurant kitchen, blasting Sepultura with the sous chef as we prepped the dinner specials. Hell, it even put me to sleep, as I'd throw in Pantera as I went to sleep, but at a low volume; somehow through his legendary, house-shaking snoring, my dad could hear music through walls that I could barely discern from five feet away. 

I still dig metal, and probably always will. It's been helpful in getting to know students who think they're unreachable because of their interests, and makes for debate material with these boys and girls, which I always win, until they get into the Scandinavian black metal stuff, which I just can't get behind. Sorry, my northern brethren. But hey, let's have some tea and discuss the finer points of Black Sabbath any time. 

These guys warped me, and I gave them lots of my money.

HEAVY METAL AND YOU

A guide to ruining your life

ANYHOO, I read the Heavy Metal & You by Christopher Krovatin, for which I had high hopes. In one sense, Krovatin delivers thoughtful analysis of metal music and translates the scary rage into something outsiders can understand. I have had to slowly introduce many a lady to metal, with mixed results, but I can identify with protagonist Sammy's passion for the genre. HOWEVER, I just can't get with Slayer and Deicide, his two favorite bands. I tried with Slayer, but after about four songs of yelling about blood and Satan and visceral accounts of how you are to be dismembered, I'm ready to move onto something more stimulating, like putting my head in C-clamp. So, the music part is good. My problem with this book? THE ACTUAL STORY.

Argh. It moves so slowly and seems empty. There is some revelation near the end that is deeper than I expected given the setup, and Sammy and Melissa learn a lot about themselves, and relationships. For that, this is a worthy read, but it takes a while to get there. Krovatin cleverly uses the play, pause, rewind, and fast forward button symbols to indicate time at page breaks, which assists in navigation and makes this feel like an audio book or movie, and the chapter titles are all recognizable songs. Sammy has some rage issues, which are explored between bouts of heavy petting, and while he is a stereotypical metalhead on the outside, at least he's well-read and somewhat intelligent, of which we in the metal world are not usually accused. 

Without giving away too much, this book is a mixed bag, but it's a promising first effort, and because he knows his metal so well, he has an authentic voice when rendering ideas about into a fictional context. He has subsequent books out there, which I'll eventually try. If the Goodreads page for this book is any indication, he's gotten through to many people, and that's what it's all about. 

HEAVY COMPLAINTS AND ME

In all, this book is fine, I guess. It just doesn't have the right oomph to make it to the upper echelon. And now for my list of SEVEN DEADLY COMPLAINTS:

1. I don't smoke, but I know enough that quitting smoking is extremely difficult. Yet, this guy Sammy seems to go cold turkey for his love interest without a problem. An angst-riddled metalhead who doesn't have a nicotine craving worth mentioning? As my boy Downtown Clay Davis would say: 

2. Sammy angrily stalks the streets of NYC with Slayer blasting in his ear holes, but somehow gets Anthrax lyrics stuck in his head and equates it to his situation. Me, being an authority on metal, can tell you that it's impossible to have a coherent thought while listening to Slayer. 

3. I know there exist young metal-loving men who go to expensive prep schools in Manhattan, but when you're trying to create a story for the extreme music set, most of whom probably don't have that upbringing, that's a classic case of misplaced setting. 

4. Rookie mistake: the standard classic book plant is executed poorly. The back of the book says Krovatin was an undergrad when he wrote Heavy Metal & You, so it stands to reason that he'd stumble when inserting references to The Catcher in the Rye. Instead of finding some kind of deep connection to Holden Caulfield, Sammy breaks some windows and realizes that he's acting JUST LIKE CAULFIELD. Does this mean I could put this book down and READ A BETTER VERSION OF THIS STORY? I guarantee no one will be clamoring to read Krovatin's sealed stories, decades after his death. 

5. Technology moves fast, and by spending so much time describing the finer points of creating a mix compilation (High Fidelity did it, and did it better*) on CD, Krovatin is already alienating his younger readers, who probably use them for coasters. If he'd checked his email using AOL I'd have chucked this book in the neighbor's burn pile. 

*I could go into the differing theories on creating a killer compilation here, but I'd have to start a new blog titled JB Yells About Your Crappy Mix. 

6. The protagonist's favorite band is Deicide. Deicide sucks. 

7. Krovatin gives such short shrift to Sammy alienating his friends that their eventual conflict and resolution feels forced, shoehorned in to give complete resolution to the boy + new girl = boy's friends are sad trope. This is the second most important part of the story and it receives about four rushed pages of treatment near the very end. 

8. I'm not fond of Sammy being a stereotypical high school metal dude who smokes, drinks, does drugs, and pukes all over his friends. I was a high school metal dude, and didn't do any of those things until college. Just as there are eight items on this promised list of seven, I'm the exception to the rule!

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A book advertised as a bike trip murder mystery, but turns out to be a coming of age novel about acknowledging change. Let's just say this book has a great title of double meaning, and HAS NOTHING TO DO WITH JOSEPH GORDON-LEVITT!

BORING STUFF

Heavy Metal And You

Christopher Krovatin

2005 PUSH

Running on Empty

HELLO AGAIN

I can't remember the last time I read a book and thought, "You know, I understand why people think burning books is a good idea." Oh, wait, yes I can. What a shame that the first YA book I get the time to read after two months of doctoral coursework (read: voluntary suicide) is such a dud.

Fitting, then, that this book was available for a dime at a library book sale. No, really, a dime, and I just happened to have one. You can't get anything for a dime anymore. A dime can't even buy you two nickels. I tried it at the bank and they said go away. I said I have a right to be here. They said we don't know how long you've been living in our break room, but it stops now. I said fine.

Don't click. Please, don't. I've never been so serious.

This book, by English author Julia Donaldson, is set in Scotland. Right away, there are two problems:
1. I may have Scottish ancestry, but the way their spoken language is written is maddening, and there are enough apostrophes in it to I don't know a good punchline for such a lousy setup.
2. The text on Donaldson's website is all Comic Sans. Therefore, I must attempt to destroy her.

The story itself is about a girl, Leo, who runs away from her aunt and uncle, her primary caretakers after the death of her parents. For some reason, when a kid in Scotland runs away from home, it makes the front page of the paper. Either it was a slow news day or the fine people of Scotland get their world news from around the cracker barrel. Anyway, running factors heavily into this story, for about, oh, two pages. Leo, in typical fashion, hasn't thought far beyond simply running away and is starving; she steals some donuts and is chased by the vendor, a nice young man named Finlay who becomes her best friend and ally. They befriend some invalid woman who somehow is released from an asylum. She yells and screams madcap things, which is supposed to be funny, I think? Yeah, nothing like making fun of the deranged, and then making some political commentary about how her shady drinking buddies only come around when her welfare check arrives. Kids love that stuff. They eat it up and talk about the pitfalls of the socialist model on snapchat and instagram.

As if that weren't enough, Leo is pursued by her uncle, who may just be a pedophile who talks to birds. What?  Oh, and Leo RUNS away from him, so there's your titular significance.

Within this mishmash mix-up of weirdos and pederasts, Leo attempts to find her identity as she attempts to track down her father's side of the family. HOWEVER, the entire story is compromised by several plot holes, flat characters, and the fact that it's her first and only book for people over the age of 7. Somehow, Donaldson won an award for positively portraying people with mental health issues. Did they even read this book? Mary the nut job is played for laughs, and if she isn't, she's just played to be a nut, with no redeeming qualities, over than breezily giving shelter to Leo. The rest of the time she's howling Johnny Cash lyrics and twirling in circles. There isn't anything to Mary, but of course, Leo and Finlay care for her, and her plot point is beleaguered the way it's shoehorned in...and then resolved through exposition. EXPOSITION. Come on. That's like killing Hamlet off-stage, and Rosencrantz & Guildenstern lumber onstage to describe his demise. "Bet you thought we were dead! Nope, we were too stupid die. Now, about the guy who's been whining throughout this entire play..." Not that this is even close to Shakespeare.

So, this was a tough 220 pages to navigate. The format is sort of neat; points to Donaldson for splitting up the sections with headings for the parts that center on Leo and Finlay and the person talking to the birds (I already spoiled that one, boo hoo). It works for a while but becomes tedious, as Leo's sections are in the first person, and the rest in the third.

And what's the deal with Finlay being ridiculed for experimenting with goth style? Why are we doing this to a subgroup of people? As if it's a phase that needs to be overcome. For a novel that's supposed to be about finding like-minded people and acceptance from others, this is a gross misplay.

Skip this one. Not even worth reading it to heckle.

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A book for which I have high expectations: the heavy metal romance novel. In high school, I had down the heavy metal part, but the romance was absent and/or catastrophically present. I'm putting all my leftover angst and encyclopedic knowledge of the genre into this one. Let's just say, no matter how disappointing this one is, it can't be worse than the tripe I just reviewed.

  \m/  \m/

BORING STUFF

Running On The Cracks
Julia Donaldson
2009 Henry Holt & Co

we were here - but you'd never know

INVISIBLE KID

My favorite students (to torment) are the ones who want to go unseen. They sit as far away from the instructor as possible, hunker down in their hoodies, and try to sneak the earbuds in and drift off to where they want to be. First, I want to know where that is, because 95% of the time it's a time or place they can never reclaim. There is a story I want to hear and help the boy (it's always a boy) comes to terms or generate a new understanding, using what they know, or want to have. Second, I move in their direction and passive-aggressively engage them. Oh, the joy on my face as I see the anguish on theirs. Sorry, buddy, you won my attention by attempting to avoid it; I'm about to draw you in, make you my go-to guy; You're too young to disappear.

Dark Dude 2: Another light-skinned Mexican boy soul-searches. This time with more swearing.

We Were Here by Matt De La Pena, tells the story of three invisible kids. The story is narrated by Miguel, who enters juvenile detention and immediately instigates conflict with Rondell and Mong, who, like Miguel, carry their own emotional baggage. Mong inexplicably recruits Miguel and Rondell to break out and head to Mexico, to freedom! And, presumably, tacos, as the boys consume dozens on their journey. I say freedom - not just from juvy, but from their personal demons. In true YA novel fashion, the boys are a diverse group from varying backgrounds/ethnicity, who each have their unique personal issues with which readers might identify.

This takes the form of an epic adventure, but quickly derails, as the escapees run into trouble everywhere they go, despite staying off the grid and hiking along the California coast on their way to Mexico. The situations are all believable and grounded in the boys' own desires and pet peeves; anyone who was burned by a crush in high school will identify with Miguel over the Flaca episode. I'm most impressed by their many nights spent on the beaches; Miguel revels in the solitude, and De La Pena ingeniously captures teenage escapism and desirous invisibility at its finest. There are some hidden elements to the plot that I won't reveal here, but they combine with his want of getting away to drive Miguel's actions. 

Caveat: This book is long. Too long. Long like the end of Invictus. The story drags in too many parts for my liking, but not so for the many rave reviews on Amazon. The story is full of wacky slang and salty language that I enjoy, but at the same time it'll turn off the curmudgeons who won't read this book anyway. So, good job, Matt! Write for your target audience. Then get them to read books that aren't yours.

CLASSICS ALERT!

I need to keep a running tally of naked advertisements of "classic" YA books. De La Pena has Miguel read Catcher in the Rye, The Color Purple, and Of Mice and Men. This time, the inclusion of the classic novels is quite clever, as the plot of each book echoes the character traits of one of the boys. Miguel is Holden Caulfield, Rondell embodies Lennie, and Mong is Oprah. Ha! Ha! But seriously, Mong does represent the abused Celie (and everyone else) in the Walker novel. I haven't seen this much overt courtship of readers since Dark Dude. I suppose the kids need their classics spoon-fed to them. For me, see the brilliant Book-a-minute Classics website. Ultra-condensed versions of the all-time greats!

UNDERSTANDING THE LATINO PERSPECTIVE

I wrote something in the Dark Dude post about learning more about the culture/perspective of Latino boyhood. Yeah, well, I haven't done much studying other than my own anecdotal conversations with my students and watching Stand and Deliver to get amped for the school week every Sunday night. ((I don't actually do this.) I should.) However, the population of my location and my line of work demands that I read, study, and develop my own approach to these Latino boys. For the most part, the girls take care of themselves and make an honest effort. The boys seem lost in comparison. Reading this fiction is a good start, but I'd appreciate input on journals, scholarly articles, documentaries, or any media related to this issue. I could expand this request to all minority groups, but I feel like the most urgent (and my least-understood, or so I feel) is the Latino perspective. That's right, I'm a Ukranian-American YA genius. (No.)

So that's where I am. I want to know more, always THIRSTING for KNOWLEDGE. And if you're young and demonstrate this trait, it will never go unnoticed.

If Miguel had a camera, and got lost and walked to Seaside, Oregon, it would have looked like this. Flickr photo from Oregon State University special collection. 

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

I'm sort of trying to read a book I found for a quarter at a library sale. So far, it's terrible, meaning I will put on a brave face and plow through an awful YA book one more damn hell ass time, as my boy Miguel would say. I'll just say that this book might BREAK YOUR MOTHER'S BACK!

BORING STUFF

We Were Here

Matt De La Pena

Delacorte 2009

The Lost Canterbury Tales

Shrek! Shrek! I'm silver, Shrek!

FLASHBACK

If you pursued an English major for more than five minutes, you read Chaucer. I had the (dis)pleasure of reading the whole thing in Middle English; not only did I sound like a brain-damaged pirate, I gained a deeper understanding of Chaucer's rhyme scheme when writing dirty stories about mistaken identity, pranks involving pseudo-rape and the actual kissing of butts. The hallmark of heritage literature. Kids, when your parents tell you that shows like Jackass are mind-rotting, putrid acts of humiliation, they're right, but you have the opportunity to argue that much of the content can be traced as literal interpretations of tales passed down and borrowed in European history, many of which are available for their perusal in The Canterbury Tales and The Decameron. You'll be mowing the lawn in no time, but the smug satisfaction of an academic explanation for your deviant behavior will put you well on the way to winning many an argument while losing many an ally.

I also vaguely remember something the "professor" had written about the Tales, in which we had to place each story on her "homoerotic continuum". At the time I went along with it, but complained to another professor about the silliness of the exercise. He concurred and said something insightful and poignant about the academic system being so out of whack that to get any attention (funding) anymore, one must concoct wild interpretations of established texts. I've forgotten it now, and because I've been out of the intelligentsia for years, in favor of surrounding myself with adolescents and their lack of sophistication, I now refer to that Chaucer class as Pin The Tail On The Gay Line. In honor of Geoffrey, I've penned a mighty limerick:

I once read a man named Chaucer

who fancied himself an author

we've studied his tales

- a class many fail - 

turns out he's a bit of a tosser

This is the first result for a GIS for "homoerotic continuum". I guess you could say it's for the birds. HA! HA!

FLIMSY CONNECTION TO BOOK REVIEW

Sonya Hartnett's The Silver Donkey has a parallel structure to the aforementioned works, but in this instance there is only one storyteller, and he only has tales featuring heroic donkeys. Think of him as a really lazy Aesop. Oh, and instead of telling stories to pass the time on a pilgrimage, the guy does so to entertain some Dudley Do-Right kids who might be his ticket home. 

While the stories serve as a break in the (in)action of the story, they also do a little to raise the esteem of the lowly donkey, who is apparently much maligned in WWI-era France. (Yes, it's another WWI book! But this time the story is away from the trenches, and it has the Jimmy Carter seal of approval, so you know it's about peace and/or building houses.) Our protagonist has run away from the front, but is overcome by blindness that slowly lifts over the course of the story. Is it self-inflicted? A nervous reaction to the horrors he witnessed in battle? Did he stare at the sun too long? He's found in a forest by two young girls who pledge to keep his secret and help him get across "the channel" to his homeland. Never does Hartnett reveal that it's the ENGLISH CHANNEL and that he's going home to ENGLAND. I used the power of context clues to make the connection in, I don't know, six seconds, but these are details I would have liked to actually see, for the sake of the YA reader. Bah, they'd probably get it. But, I know that YA boys are generally big on facts and locations. I know because I still act like one. 

So, the titular silver donkey is the linchpin to the story, and carries a special meaning to the runaway soldier, and to the girls he befriends. This could serve the double purpose of a primer for symbolism and pro-donkey propaganda in the classroom, which will, I'm sure, be misconstrued as some kind of endorsement of the Democratic Party. I can't wait to the Conservapedia version called The Golden Elephant, in which the soldier volunteers to fight, kills a hundred terrorists, and rescues the kidnapped Republican President, whose Secret Service code name is, you guessed it, Golden Elephant. 

Back to donkey symbolism. They're known for:

1. Stubbornness. 
2. Bearing burdens.
3. Jesus rode one into Jerusalem on Palm Sunday 
4. Helping kids get away with saying "ass".

Pretty impressive list. Hartnett covers 1 & 2 in full detail, and dips into Jesus territory when the soldier tells the tale of the donkey who carried Mary for days, all the way to the stables. So, donkeys aren't all bad. I'm seeing the ass at the end of the tunnel here. 

I should add that there can be an intro-to-intro to gender studies lesson within this book, when comparing the reaction to the soldier's stories by the young girls and the young boy, as well as the roles they play in getting the soldier on his way home without incident. The girls provide food, listen patiently to the tales and marvel at the shiny animal figurine, while the boy begs to hear details from the war and does all the actual work to book surreptitious passage back to England. I wonder what the Wife of Bath would make of this tale. 

The Silver Donkey treads where Chaucer rarely does, most likely because there are few easy laughs in altruism and the human predilection/instinct to help others in need. If you doubt we're capable of such behaviors at a young age, watch Alan Alda play with monkeys to get a fuller picture. I suppose, though, that we have our children read about kindness, compassion, and sharing when they're young so that when they read something as lurid as Chaucer, they realize that his complicated morality demonstrates realism at its finest (see the ambivalence of the Wife of Bath's prologue), much of the characters' behaviors are socially irresponsible (and therefore funny), and that fart jokes never go out of style. 

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A book which I've wanted to read for quite some time. Teenage boys in Juvy struggle to make sense of their misdeeds and place in society. Let's just say that at one point in time this was our location!

BORING STUFF

The Silver Donkey

Sonya Hartnett

2004 Penguin (Australia) 

NOPE

TESTIFY

Reached #1 on the NY Times List of Books That Will Sicken, Then Somewhat Redeem You

I WANT MY BLANKIE

We all have something special of value that brings us comfort, keeps us grounded. When everything else seems to spiral out of control, it's the special thing we lean on for support. It is familiar, predictable, welcoming, and able to distract us from the outside world. When the outside world intrudes and destroys that special thing, or it loses whatever hold that made it special, we lose hold on our own reality and enter something new and fearful.

Imagine: You are forced to leave your home and flee for your safety. You have to leave now. Sorry, no car. What do you take with you? What one thing do you grab that you want to save? It's probably that special thing. Difficulty: No wireless access.

Mine would probably be my Star Trek books, loaded onto a Kindle. That's my escape, and I'm not ashamed to admit it. I used them when I was twelve and I still do now, to get away from stress, tragedy, and otherwise.* I even grabbed the few I owned and hustled them with me to the basement during tornado warnings, imagining that we'd emerge to an apocalyptic scene, or in another dimension, and these books would be my guide to negotiation with strange aliens, or used to pass the time while my dad built us a shack.


*There's a huge spike in my Star Trek consumption when a woman dumps me. By Star Trek, I mean booze. And Star Trek. 


I was lucky to only fantasize a radical change in my life. Ishmael Beah lived it, in the most severe terms.

You're twelve years old, a normal kid. You like rap music and you're part of a dance team. Then, one day, soldiers enter your town and shoot up the place. You flee with your friends, separated from your family. You wander the wilderness, staying away from the main roads, walking by night to make it to the safety of towns unaffected by the brewing civil war, hoping for news of your family. Then, one day, you're stopped at gunpoint by the military, and forced to join the fight against insurgents. They train you to be a killer, hook you on drug cocktails that keep you awake for days at a time. This haze becomes all you live for, and anything else is a bother and a bore. you become a brutal, soulless killing machine.

Then, suddenly, it stops. You're released from the army and sent to the capital city for social rehabilitation. You get to go through the agony of drug withdrawal, fights with many boys going through the same thing, and an existential journey of identity and loss. Boy, am I ready to go fetal and read about Vulcans and warp drive.

Set phasers to fantasyland!

The most gut-wrenching moment in this book comes when Ishmael and his friends are captured, and his rap tapes are confiscated and burned. There is loaded (language arts alert!) symbolism to this moment. When his tapes are burned, Ishmael ceases to be himself and becomes an automaton for the military.  His one comfort is stripped; the last reminder of his previous life. And the monologue in my head goes on like this.

JUST THE BEGINNING

This is a can't-miss book for YA and adult readers. Social Studies teachers especially, read this book and share it with your students. The immediacy of reading about someone their age being forced to fight in a war far beyond him is riveting (and revolting), and the redemption Ishmael achieves leaves us on a positive note. In the big picture, his story brought awareness of and action against the use of child soldiers in African nations, which still happens in massive numbers. Teachers can use this as a supplement, or a springboard, for case studies in African culture, politics, war, and pressure from international powers. Students might further their relationship with Beah, who has remained a public figure.

Set phasers to How you can smile and have hope for Sierra Leone and the rest of the world after what you experienced is beyond me. 

Since moving permanently to the United States and establishing himself as a goodwill ambassador of the United Nations, Ishmael has used all the contemporary elements to spread his story and to reach like-minded people, and those of us (not me!) who had no idea.

Beah Foundation - Actively directed by Beah. Dedicated to treating and re-socializing child soldiers. Sounds familiar.

A Long Way Gone - Official website for the book. Some media that might be useful to teachers.

He was even on The Daily Show:

And naturally, Ishmael is on Twitter:
Tweets by @IshmaelBeah

Holy crap, he watches Breaking Bad! #treadlightly

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

Surprise! Another book set during the First World War! This time, two young girls encounter an injured soldier in a forest, and that's as much as I know. Let's just say the sequel should be called THE GOLDEN MULE!

BORING STUFF

A Long Way Gone: Memoirs of a Boy Soldier

Ishmael Beah

2008 Sarah Crichton Books

ARTIFACT: DUKANE Model 28A33 Film Strip Projector

THE LIGHT BRIGADE

I thought AV Club would be all about the babes, man.

Some of you might remember these from your school days, if you are A) over 30; or B) went to a hella poor school.* I found this in a closet at my school, where it's idled in retirement, a "gift" from the elementary school down the street. Gee, thanks. Any other garbage, I mean, media, we can take for you?

I discuss this novelty more in the video below. Or, view on Youtube.





*For reference: I'm A and my school is B.

BIG McLARGE HUGE

NOW WATCH THIS

Today's review is in video form. All these years using digital technology and this is the first talking-head brand of video I've done. There are numerous shortcomings:

1. I went quickly to and from my notes, so most of the cuts have my head whipping up or down, and some final voice sounds are cut off. You'll get over it. Some weird distortion in spots, too.
2. I forgot to develop my points about my "expertise" and why it's a decent look at early 20th Century history.
3. Could have gone into more background on the characters to sell the book, but it's probably enough.
4. Ugh, I said Westerfeld's name wrong at least once.
5. The video hiccups during the "hand-wringing of the July-crisis" line.
6. My hair.

I'll certainly address these issues in future videos. And they'll be shorter. And I might yell more. Enjoy.


Click here to view on Youtube.

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A book so serious in tone and urgency that I can't think of any good jokes for this space. Let's just say after reading it YOU'LL FEEL LIKE THE TITLE!

BORING STUFF

Leviathan

Scott Westerfield 

2009 Simon Pulse

Behemoth

Scott Westerfield 

2010 Simon Pulse

Goliath

Scott Westerfield 

2011 Simon Pulse

7. No mention of the fantastic illustrations on the cover art and within. It's good.

Leave it to Zachary Beaver. By it, I mean all your food.

It's three-named female author writes as a teen boy, part three. Like Final Destination 3, it's much of the same, and like The Matrix 3, at the end you're just relieved it's finally over.

subtitle: and five other subplots that we'll thinly explore.

EVERYTHING'S BIGGER IN TEXAS, EVEN THESE WORDS

Imagine: the fattest boy in the world comes to your sleepy Texas town. It's 1971, and this kind of spectacle does not often come around. So, you'll plunk down two dollars to witness this human oddity. Of course you'll exploit the young man and gape at his massive volume. Then, like any good young man, you'll attempt to correct every wrong in your immediate life, except for your mommy issues. Until the very end, of course.

BIG ISSUES

Incredible timing in tiny Antler, Texas. I suppose small town life has plenty of drama. Goodness me!
Consider what our protagonist, Toby, has to deal with over his summer vacay:

1. Zachary Beaver left in trailer while his keeper leaves town to scout freak show talent. Toby faces ethical conundrum of humanizing Z.Beaver versus remaining a novelty. 
2. Zachary Beaver has never been baptized. He would have been, but his mother died. Toby attempts to grant Z.Beaver his one wish.
3. Mom leaves town to pursue a singing career in Nashville. Toby faces ethical conundrum of rejecting mother because of her selfish actions or accepting her decision and valuing her simple presence in his life, given Z.Beaver situation.
4. Best friend's brother is away fighting in Vietnam. Brother writes letters, best friend never responds. Toby faces ethical conundrum of responding to brother as best friend. 
5. Best friend's brother dies in Vietnam. Toby faces ethical conundrum of wallowing in own self-pity or supporting his best friend in this trying time. 
6. Toby's dad drops wisdom and knowledge on Toby regarding mom and best friend situations. Toby faces emotional conundrum of directing his feeling towards those people at his father. Spoiler alert: he's twelve years old. Guess what he does. 
7. Toby's crush is having boyfriend troubles and for some reason airs her frustrations to Toby. Toby faces ethical conundrum of stealing away girl and possible fatal pummeling or playing cupid with intimidating boyfriend.
8. Brother of Toby's summer employer has obvious Alzheimer's. Toby faces ethical conundrum of avoiding someone "different" (again).
9. Alcoholic bowling alley owner stuck in limbo. Toby attempts to help him find meaning in life while suppressing his own problems.
10. I become irritated with Toby for sticking his nose in everybody's business.

BIG PROBLEMS

How the hell can Toby (and Kimblerly Willis Holt) address all of these issues in a scant 227 pages? She does, but only on a surface level for most of the issues. We get developments and conclusions that lack deep insight on these issues, and the A-story falls to the wayside for much of the novel. There is symbolism that links the parallel themes, but younger readers may not make the connections. However, the realism on display regarding the family issues is well-done, evocative of the conflicting feelings children of divorce experience. The rest is meh. Toby learns to embrace people who are different. Twice! Toby learns that it's okay to be a friend to girls he wants to smooch, and deal with the rejection positively. I suppose this is a healthier outcome than burning these girls in effigy, which was my high school self-medication. So, some parts succeed, some ring hollow, but the outcome is more-or-less satisfying, as the family element is left open-ended, but the resolutions with the best friend and the forced revival of the alcoholic bowling alley guy temper that effect.

BIG SCREEN

Want to watch a lousy movie adaptation of this book? Look no further!

I haven't watched the thing, and never will. Use it to put your unruly youth to sleep, or to introduce them to the wild world of heckling poorly-made films.

After reading the book about a highly resourceful young man who has the guts and resolve to try for the girl (then fix her boyfriend problems), put up with a senile old man (then play catch with him), abandon his best friend (and then make it up to him), make peace with his resigned father and absentee mother (after dealing with abandonment issues), assist the local drunk in kicking the habit (then getting him to preside over a baptism) and help the fat kid get his one wish, do you visualize:

(A) 

Sweet, clean-cut, classic All-American boy 

(B)

Spunky, good-natured smirk of a youngster

(C)

A dim-witted version of Ralphie from A Christmas Story

The strangely correct answer is C! I'm all for breaking convention and smashing archetypes, but what an unsettling choice. Do we really need an everyman hero for the younger set? I'm so old and out of touch. Bring me my Hardy Boys novels and get off my lawn after you mow it to my satisfaction. I don't pay. 

BIG THREE

So, how did these authors do to capture the life of a teen boy? 

Speare: yeah, she did fine. 

Hinton: Winner.

Holt: About 50-50.

JB: Probably can't do better.

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A trilogy of alternate history set during my era of expertise, the First World War. Let's just say, these books are HUGE!

BORING STUFF

When Zachary Beaver Came To Town

Kimberly Willis Holt

1999 Henry Holt & Company*

*I checked; they're not related.

THE SHELF OF FAME

Look! Up there! On the tabs at top! A new addition to this blog. It's my YA SHELF OF FAME. I'll periodically add to this pantheon of greatness. Feel free to vainly argue with me about the merits of qualifiers and those left out on the cold tundra of my disdain. You don't need 300 wins or 500 homers to get in, you just need to touch me. No, not there. Not there either. Stop that. I MEANT IT FIGURATIVELY.

Author 715 good books without a ghostwriter and I'll think about it, big boy. 

ARTIFACT: School Is Hell

On occasion I find amusing writing- and reading-related samples from my students. This is from a class in which my student wouldn't participate in the writing activity, so I asked him to write instead about the trials and tribulations of school. Below is his hilarious response.

Extra credit for the fancy font. 

That was A Separate Peace, this is That Was Then, This Is Now

AUTHORS WITH THREE NAMES WRITING FROM THE PERSPECTIVE OF TEENAGE BOYS, PART TWO

A Separate Peace 2: Life of the Street

PARALLELS

Just about everyone on the planet has read or heard of The Outsiders, the novel by wunderkind S.E. Hinton that became the standard for raw, roughneck YA literature. She so deftly captures life of the forgotten underclass that manifests in gang culture and rebellion against societal norms that when I first read the book, I thought that SE Hinton was some kind of reformed criminal. Imagine my surprise ("a teenage girl! I must write her a love letter") and depression ("a teenage girl! I'm a teenage boy and all I do is set things on fire. I'm a failure") when I found out that Hinton was a high school student at the time she wrote The Outsiders. It's my favorite mind-blower for the middle school boys who read this book for the first time with me.

Student: Hey, I just finished this book.

Me: What did you think?

Student: It was good. I identified with Pony Boy. I feel like him sometimes.

Me: Hey, that's great. I mean, sort of. We'll talk about that later with your probation officer. But did you know that S.E. Hinton is a girl? DID I JUST BLOW YOU MIND?!?!?!

Student: No. 

Me: Oh. 

That Was Then, This Is Now is the tangential followup to that well-known novel, and while it treads much the same ground of its predecessor (and features some characters from it), the more adult approach to That Was Then, regarding how relationships change over time and experience show that Hinton took a step forward as a write in the four years after her debut. I'm more inclined to compare this novel to A Separate Peace than I am to The Outsiders. Sounds unlikely, I know. Allow me to address your (fictional) italicized concerns.

But JB, there aren't any prep school Greasers in A Separate Peace!  

True. However, let's look beyond socioeconomic status and consider the parallels of the relationships between Gene/Finny and Bryon/Mark.

But JB, Gene becomes a psycho while Bryon becomes a good person. How do you explain that, smart guy?

No need for sarcastic name-calling. You're examining their differing behaviors, without accounting for the major shift in morality that takes place. It's the most common sight in a YA novel, or any novel for that matter: someone grows/changes and it affects their relationships. Gene and Bryon both begin to see their friendships fade, one via manufactured competition, the other via, I don't know, growing up. Gene shifts morally to a dark place, as Bryon emerges from ambiguity to a strong sense of right and wrong. What transpires after these transformations is extremely similar: Gene and Bryon irreparably do in their former friends. Finny dies from the sabotaged tree limb jump (this isn't a spoiler; you should have read this book by now) and after Bryon turns him in for dealing drugs, Mark descends into a hardened, eternal hatred for Bryon. Afterwards, Gene and Bryon are forever changed.

So, you're mistaking a convention of novel-writing for a striking similarity?
Not at all.

I don't believe you.
Yeah, well, I don't feel like arguing the matter anymore.

"I FEEL MIXED UP INSIDE"

Bryon says this about 68,000 times in this book, and I'm beginning to see the limitations of Hinton books. The characters stay in this constant flux, which is a realistic bent, but the insight isn't there. That's not necessarily the point of the Hinton books, and the focus on the anger and dissonance pays off. However, Hinton nearly beats this angle into oblivion, but does enough with the M&M B-story to keep it from monotony. And where does Bryon find relief? READING BOOKS. I'm shocked.

This book can serve a language arts teacher well, given Hinton's good work with foreshadowing, dialogue, and irony. 

The end of chapter 2 features fabulous foreshadowing. At that very moment every teacher should stop and ask their readers, "what do you think is going to happen?" and solicit predictions. Great stuff.

The irony of the last sentence of the novel: "I wish I was a kid again, when I had all the answers." Oh, man. Have students evaluate that statement in the context of Bryon's transformation and relate their own personal experiences in growing up. I've never offered this book to my classes, but I just may. Besides, we can then watch the movie: 

Any movie in which Emilio Estevez is ostracized & beaten senseless is good by me.

FINAL VERDICT

This book holds up on its own when compared to The Outsiders. Hinton is almost a required read for YA of all stripes, and that the book is regularly challenged in schools heightens its appeal. Make it so, number one.

BONUS!

Looks like more than a few dozen students were assigned to create a trailer for this book, and the results are on Youtube. Take a peek at a few of them and laugh your whatever off. 

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

Part three of my YA challenge. This one is set against the Vietnam War (again?!) and the entire town of Antler, Texas is thrown for a loop when the world's heaviest boy comes to town. Let's just say I'm setting a personal record for reading books with the word BEAVER in the title!

BORING STUFF

That was Then, This is Now

S.E. Hinton

1971 Viking/Penguin

Beaver Xing

Authors With Three Names: Part One

The sign of the beaver is a bear miming "Come at me, bro"

I read this book when I was, I don't know, nine years old, and I probably didn't pick up on the thematic nuances, because when you're nine, you think, "of course they're going to be friends! They're going to run around and set traps and shoot things with arrows! Holy crap, it's going to be fun! Indians are awesome!"

Now, I'm re-reading this book at, oh, let's say 29*, and it's so painfully obvious that when I was nine I was an idiot.

Not because nine-year-old JB (JB9) didn't grasp the culture gap and feelings of uselessness and isolation, nor the wonderful literal and metaphorical consequences of Matt desperately winging his rabbit at an oncoming bear**, nor the numerous inaccuracies in terminology, as pointed out in a snazzy foreword by Joseph Bruchac. JB9 didn't need to see these things. JB9's fatal mistake was to criticize the happy ending over dinner:

[Flashback to: 1990: A typical Midwestern kitchen in the summer, with fans blaring in all windows. JB9 sits at the table with with FATHER, MOTHER, and a humanoid identified by government scientists as his SISTER.  The table is set for dinner: plates, silverware, a giant salt shaker and nine pounds of butter. MOTHER scoops extra cauliflower on JB9's plate as a sadistic form of torture. FATHER cracks open a Milwaukee's Best. Years later, JB9 will be allowed to try one and puke his brains out. MOTHER leads the family in saying grace while SISTER kicks JB9 under the table.]

MOTHER: Tell me about the books you're reading.

SISTER: [unintelligible alien language spoken through mouthful of heavily-buttered bread]

FATHER nods, feigning interest.

MOTHER: And you, JB9? Here, have another beet.

JB9 [excited at the prospect of being allowed to speak]: I'm reading a great book about a kid who lives alone in the woods near some Indians. He's all by himself with no family and makes friends with an Indian boy who saved him from some bees! But I don't get why he misses his sister. [JB9 instinctively ducks as "SISTER" swings a savage arm at him] And the kid survives all by himself!

FATHER: What's your favorite part?

JB9: It's all really good. I wish I could be just like him! No family around, no cauliflower, and lots of bears!

MOTHER: That's it.

[JB spends the next five years in the basement]


*I will be 29 for the rest of my life. This was decided long ago by a haunted fortune-telling machine that infamously turned some kid into Tom Hanks. 

**It's the only part of the book I want to talk about, because it encapsulates everything about Matt's hapless situation, the European incursion into the Americas, and the beginning of Matt's transition from being afraid of nature to working within it to survive. Whoops, I just spoiled the book!

BUT I'M NOT A STRANDED 13 YEAR OLD BOY IN COLONIAL AMERICA. WHY SHOULD I CARE?

How the hell should I know. When I tried to set out on my own I was put under house arrest. 

I should (once again) note the tried-and-beaten-dead tactic of relating her story to a classic novel in order to get kids interested. In this book, it's Robinson Crusoe. Speare makes an admirable gesture in narrating the kid flipping through the boring parts to get to the action when Matt attempts to teach the Indian boy to read. I call it admirable because she essentially tells the young boys and girls who might be persuaded to read Crusoe that most of it is f@%#ing boring. And she's right! 

In recognizing Crusoe, she also turns the slave/master dynamic around in her own story, which is not lost on Matt. The themes of bridging cultural differences and equality make it worth the read. I suppose the "fat guys will enter your home, eat all your food, and steal your gun" theme has its own merit.

If your reader has whipped through Hatchet and its sequels, have them give this a try.  

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

Another three-named female author who initializes two of them. Thanks for making it easier to say your name, and making people think you might be a man! That trend is slowly giving way with the proliferation of social networking and direct author-reader interaction. Let's just say that was then...THIS IS NOW!

BORING STUFF

The Sign of the Beaver

Elizabeth George Speare

1983 Houghton Mifflin

2011 Sandpiper (Reissue)

Joke. Joke. Bit of story. Joke. Joke. Joke on bit of story. Joke. Sto-Joke.

Thanksgiving with my family is always a a diverse, terrifying affair. 

Since leaving the writing staff of The Simpsons, John Swartzwelder has spent the last decade writing nine short novels, eight of which center on the adventures of dimwit detective Frank Burly. In one of his latest books, Burly gets himself involved with boring-turned-mad scientists who conduct experiments based on what they see in old Hollywood movies. Burly bumbles his way through solving the case in standard Swarzweldian fashion, meaning it's packed with non sequitur and throwaway jokes that often reveal something ludicrous or break the fourth wall.

Like all of the Burly novels, it gets goofy. This isn't standard YA literature by any means, but students with broad pop culture knowledge will be able to recognize most of the material he uses for jokes in this one, and Swartzwelder's writing style has transferred well from television to prose, although I have been imagining scenes from this book in cartoon form, with lots of quick smash cuts and reveals when something sudden happens. Think of it as an episode of classic Simpsons, completely unfiltered for TV. Now you're getting it. Now give it back, it's mine.

What this book lacks in revelation/empowerment/strong emotional pull for YA readers, it makes up for it in complete insanity. I realize Swartzwelder isn't a YA author, nor does he write for a specific audience other than people who find humor in his demented cartoon universe. This is strictly for those with an advanced sense of comedy and crave something warped. This might serve as a stepping stone to thicker works of wackiness, such as those of Terry Pratchett.

READ THIS BOOK 

If you require absurd humor in your life, or know a YA reader who enjoys pop culture references and completely bizarre plots. So, you know, everyone. 

You may also read this book. Disclaimer: You probably will not get rich.

DON'T READ THIS BOOK 

If you want something serious, or need your literature to do more than give you some laughs. This reminds me of John Green's statement that he prefers to write about smart people, which might be a reaction to sitcom TV in which most characters are fairly dumb and the emotional currency rendered counterfeit. In the case of Swartzwelder, the characters are overly stupid, which does limit the depth of thought, but does open the opportunity for some incredible jokes. 

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

A book I read as a kid, and revisit 20+ years later to analyze how old that makes me. Let's just say this sign might stop traffic in the state of Oregon!

BORING STUFF

The Fifty Foot Detective

John Swartzwelder 

2011 Kennydale Books

The Fault In Our YA Star

I've read 3 of these 5 books, so I'm qualified to whine about them all.

LOOKING FOR PAPER TOWNS

Doesn't matter who the author is - read more than two of their books and you'll see their patterns. This is not a criticism, but an observation. Here are a few I've noticed:

TC Boyle: uses words nobody else knows. Probably owns a thesaurus the size of a bread truck.
John Grisham: Always with the lawyer crap.
Vonnegut: Can't help but insert himself, or elements from his own life, into his stories
Tolkien: Nothing like reading about singing dwarves
Stephen King: Lots of boring things happen, then something scary happens. Repeat.
Gertrude Stein: Completely insane.

I repeat: THIS IS NOT A BAD THING. These patterns reveal much of the author, and despite +John Green's attempt to dissuade us from divining anything about the author from the fiction they write as dismissing the merit of the novel itself* (spoiler alert: wrong!) we can learn much about him as a writer, when comparing The Fault In Our Stars to Looking For Alaska and Paper Towns.


*When Green asks his readers not to attempt to look for hidden meaning in the story, guess what? They're going to look for hidden meaning in the story. "I made it up" is not enough to convince anyone that he's inserting something about himself for us to find. And to say this diminishes the impact of the story itself, and that fiction doesn't matter if we look beyond the page to the author? I don't completely buy it. There is such a thing as compartmentalization, a capability most likely possessed and practiced by the "smart people" about whom Green prefers to write.

AN ABUNDANCE OF FAULT

I was going to scream and holler about how these books are all the same, but Green has already addressed this on one of his many web presences. So, we'll examine his own words on the matter.

The Fault in Our Stars is very different (it’s narrated by a girl; she is not in high school; her concerns are somewhat different from the concerns of my previous protagonists; etc.)

When quibbling differences in gender narration and school status (a 16-year old part time community college student as opposed to a high school student - big whoop) are what separate your books and make them very different (a word, by the way, that good writers know to avoid), you've got trouble. I accept the concerns argument, as the male narrators of the previous two novels tend to only suffer from debilitating social communication problems, rather than a terminal illness. This speaks to his larger point of exploring the Romantic Other, which is a fascinating concept, and what puts him on a shelf above most other YA authors:

 A lot of people read [Paper Towns] as a rewriting or a revision or a revisiting or whatever of Looking for Alaska, which is totally fine (books belong to their readers), but to me it is the complete OPPOSITE of LfA (one is about the legitimacy of Great Lost Love, and one is about the absolute ridiculousness and illegitimacy of Great Lost Love), or at least that’s what I intended.

No quarrel here. The thematic adjustment between the two is plain to see, and I think that Green puts another spin on Great Lost Love in Fault, which is to consider one's legacy after they've passed on, and what lies on the other side. Will the Great Lost Love be requited in the afterlife? Will it continue to live forever in the hearts of those still alive? By the way, Hazel's meditation on these sentiments that we seem to casually toss out when someone dies was fantastic. One of Green's strengths is deconstructing the everyday (or, as reviewers like to say, quotidian) phraseology of our culture and adding the right amount of cuss words to make us think, "yeah, screw that!"

That said, If you have to spell it out for your audience, maybe they're not that smart.

 (I also like smart people who do not find irony a convincing way to hide from intellectual engagement, which is the  A#1 reason I like writing about teenagers.)

Damn.

Katherines seems to me wholly different from my other books except in some uninteresting superficial ways (like, it also contains a road trip, and it also contains a romance and nerds, but those are boring and trivial similarities...

Whoa there, buddy. You just named boring and superficial differences between Fault and your other books to argue that they're very different, while pointing to trivial similarities as unjustifiable criticism.

In the end, Green knows the pratfalls of explaining his books - the relationship between author and reader is ever tenuous and subject to too much filling-in by the reader, whose individual interpretations will trump any point the writer tries to make. Such is the nature of perception. And, to an extent, personal relationships.

The reason most men are still boys.

THE STARS ALIGN

As for The Fault In Our Stars as a book on its own, I say this is Green's best. He's at his best when writing through the rawest of emotion that his characters must experience/suffer; it's lyrical without being schmaltzy and pedantic, tight, lucid, cogent, and other 25-cent words that would make Hazel Grace like me. 

This one took a while to get going, but the sustained intensity of the last half of the book cannot be denied. With Paper Towns, we're thrown right into Margo's magical night and disappearance (see, they're very different). Here, we have to slog through significant exposition before the story really kicks in - naught but a minor complaint about the pacing. 

The themes of this book: love the one you're with, leaving a legacy, what happens after we die, are all folded well into the narrative. The inclusion of a book-within-a-book device makes the metaphor more obvious; Hazel wants to know what happens to her favorite characters after a book ends. Yes, the afterlife of a fictional character. Do they find love, what happens, does anything happen? Just as we're unsure of anything after passing from this mortal coil, Hazel needs some kind of reassurance about these characters to whom she's married her own personal hopes. 

Selfishness plays a hefty role in this book. Each character deals with their own short-sighted wants, and they manifest in shouting matches, avoidance, and lots of crying, as most selfishness does. 

About Van Houten: Clean-cut author with massive internet presence writes about boozy a-hole recluse writer who refuses to read fan mail. Green must have had fun with this character. I'm digging for fact within fiction, which is a no-no, but I bet he had to make Van Houten an American so that the Dutch fellowshop he received would come through. Not to dismiss the power of storytelling, or anything. 

For all that's wonderful and moving about this book, he reduces his characters to near-stereotypes. Augustus plays video games and reads novels based on video games. Hazel watches America's Next Top Model and likes to be catty about it. Trivial, surface similarities, sure, but come on, branch out. I say this knowing that most readers enjoy the comfort of predictability, which is why there are so many book and movie series that recycle characters and plot lines and make millions of dollars. 

But here’s the thing: I am not the only writer. There are many, many writers creating a huge variety of stories—tens of thousands of novels will come out in 2012, for example—and it’s not really my responsibility to tell every possible story. I can only tell the truest versions of the stories I know, so that’s what I’m trying to do.

Amen, brother.

JOHN GREEN, JOHN GREEN

The John Green Book Checklist

1. Young protagonist with ample vocabulary - word placement screams thesaurus
2. Enigmatic love interest 
3. Statement about the attractive nature of curvy girls
4. Protagonist reads and continually refers to "classic" works of literature that no one reads anymore, but the characters create meaning from them to apply to their own experience
5. Death (or presumption of death) is the main catalyst for action
6. Jovial and loving parents who remain flat characters (exception: Fault explores the parental relationships more in-depth)
7. A character who goes by their full name
8. Protagonist thinks s/he is nothing special, but finds through his/her adventure to be capable of the extraordinary 

Follow these simple steps and you too can have a New York Times Bestseller! I think there's an element of teenage fantasy fulfillment in his writing, which is fine; that is where most, if not all, writing begins. However, he doesn't want me to talk about it, and if I do, a bunch of nerdfighters might beat me up with words, so I won't. Suffice to say: all three books satisfy, are uplifting in the face of losing someone forever, and Green acquits himself well as to character motivations in his own commentary, but I'll continue to divine fact from fiction just to get his goat. Because, you know, word of this will get to him. /Sarcasm.

NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

Another John who has a formula and sticks to it. These probably aren't meant for young readers, but they're funny as hell and they read fast & easy. Let's just say what the cover of every one of his books says...BY THE WRITER OF 59 EPISODES OF THE SIMPSONS!

BORING STUFF

The Fault in Our Stars
John Green
2012 Dutton Juvenile

Donnie Dark Dude

 I HONESTLY THOUGHT THIS WAS GOING TO BE A STARGATE FAN FICTION

You might think that a book with a cover like this: 

would not inspire such a thought. Clearly, my line of reasoning is nonsense, but when the author so closely resembles the departed Don S. Davis, I get my hopes up. 

Don S Davis

Oscar Hijuelos, I am disappoint. 

So it wasn't to be. HOWEVER, I am bound by the code of this blog, which dropped off my radar for a couple of weeks thanks to the pesky intercession of EARNING A LIVING, to comment upon Dark Dude, the latest of my YA conquests.

SHOW DON'T TELL

For a book written in the first person, Hijuelos does lots of showing. For example, I didn't figure out that this book was set in the 1970s until after page 100. He showed me, but I wasn't looking. Shame on me. 

Rico, our hero, is a Cuban boy living in a rough Hispanic neighborhood in NYC, but there's one problem: he looks like a gringo. White skin, dirty blond hair. So right away, we're shown  that Rico doesn't fit in anywhere. Add fuel: he spent much of his childhood hospitalized and didn't grow up with a core group of friends. I feel I've been shown too much. Take it away, Rico, it's HIDEOUS.

So Rico takes us through his pasy, his family, his hobbies, his daily life, and it's no mystery why he hitchhikes to rural Wisconsin to find a friend who won the lottery and moved there to start a farm. Because the first thought in anyone's mind when they win $75,000 is, "I want to live where it smells like cow poop." 

Anyway, through hard work, socialization, lots of beer drinking, and saving a friend from drug addiction, Rico learns a lot about life, love, and fitting in. Good for him. Kid needed it.

OKAY, NOW STOP

Perhaps I'm growing jaded by YA, but the plot structure was just too rigidly predictable, as is much of the standard symbolism and the "wave a classic book into the story to get kids to read it" trend, of which John Green is the most notorious offender. This time, it's Huck Finn. Rico compares his own hitchhiking adventure with his junkie pal Jimmy to Huck and Jim's float down the Mississippi. Ugh, really. Jimmy and Jim. Write their names on an iron skillet and smash my face in with it, because I DIDN'T SEE THE PARALLELS. But wait, there's MORE. JIMMY is a SLAVE to DRUGS. It all makes sense now. Then, THEN! Rico develops the idea for a comic book about a guy who can change his skin tone to be Caucasian or Hispanic at will. While the symbolism is so laughably overt, it does demonstrate the depths of Rico's loneliness and feelings as an outsider.

So, not a read to avoid, but it is long. I will soon read We Were Here, which is of a similar bent, and I'll probably be better prepared to discuss identity among Latino boys in the United States. 

 NEXT TIME, I YELL ABOUT

The works of John Green. I'm struggling with my own assessment of his writing. He's worshiped as the voice of the 21st Century YA but there's something askew, and I just can't find it. Let's just say I might find fault...IN OUR STARS!

BORING STUFF

Dark Dude

Oscar Hijuelos

2009 Atheneum