JB yells about YA books: February 2014

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

I CAN DIG IT

FINALLY

I'm supposed to be some kind of big-shot blogger. The kind of person who makes witty observations, sarcastic remarks that make you guffaw and cover your mouth, but hints at some kind of truth that we can all agree upon, then go back to looking at cat memes. How can anyone take me seriously when I haven't even read one of the better, and well-known, YA novels out there? IT'S TRUE - - I AM A FRAUD.

I take that back. I WAS a fraud. Then I read Holes by Louis Sachar. In my kiddo years I read There's A Boy In The Girls Bathroom, which resonated with me at the time because I'd sometimes wear a skirt to school to justify going into the girl's bathroom, because I looked like the sign, don't you understand me, Mr. Martin? HAS THE WORLD GONE MAD? Please don't call my dad. So I know Louis Sachar. Not personally. I once went trick-or-treating at his house as Bradley Chalkers, and he didn't find my real-life antics of his character funny at all. Maybe I shouldn't have pushed his kid off the porch, but hey, I heard he gave out full size candy bars. Anyway, I was escorted from his property.

Enough about my sealed juvenile record. Let's talk about the criminal exploits of a group of boys in the Texas desert. Stanley Yelnats is an overweight kid with a palindrome for a name, who is convicted of stealing some valuable shoes. But no, he didn't do it! Wrong place, wrong time. "Sure pal, that's what they all say," is what we've heard when faced with the same situation. So, Stanley meets a group of actual criminal kids who are sentenced to digging 5x5x5 holes in the desert. Now that's a plot that deserves attention.

How many can you find in the plot? Answer: A couple.

Sachar takes a straight-ahead story and combines it with two other narratives to create a timeline of events that lead to the inevitable conclusion that brings all the lines together, while exploring the themes of friendship, truth, karma, and exposing young readers to the literature of the fantastic. Stanley has only heard these stories about his family, so he believes that he is cursed. Or is he just the victim of bad luck? The parallel narratives remind me of The Convalescent, a grownup book I recently took in because it was cheap on McSweeney's website. [Now you understand my discriminating tastes.] The protagonist is physically unappealing, and his own way of viewing the world makes sense to him, but not most others. Add in a historical recounting of his own family line - his parents and Hungarian ancestors, and you get a similar, compelling structure. Holes can help make sophisticated readers with its multiple narratives. But can it shovel a load on my fiery complaints? I only have two. So, probably.

Stanley keeps his cool the entire story, then some kid named Tweek, or Twitch, or Twerk, shows up. Within fifteen seconds Twitch says he earned his name because that's how he feels right before he's tempted to steal a car, and Stanley immediately jumps into a truck and tries to make a break for it. How is it that this one kid who just met Stanley transfers his characteristics and influences Stanley to steal a truck? There are some plot factors at play that I won't spoil for you, but I can't imagine that they're enough to make Stanley snap. It's a weird transition that I don't like.
Stanley's parents are broke, but dad is a zany inventor trying to make some kind of super shoe, or odor pads that never go bad. Something like that. Look, it's been a month since I finished the damn thing, so PARDON MY FAULTY MEMORY. Point being: they're flat face poor. That's it. Why the weird shoe thing that goes nowhere? Dad's eccentricities have absolutely nothing to do with this story...or do they? Dad works on shoes and Stanley is accused of stealing THE MOST VALUABLE SHOES IN TOWN. Maybe Sachar didn't work too hard to hide a foot fetish. Cmon, Louis. Just say they're poor. I'm insulted at the low-level inference we're asked to make.

Other than two querulous points, I'm impressed with this book. And apparently, so are the youths (Utes if you're Joe Pesci). My students were 1) in disbelief I hadn't yet read the book; 2) insistent that I pursue Small Steps, the sort-of sequel. It's on the list.