I've been told hundreds of times that the greatest thing I can do in this life is to leave my mark so I'm never, ever forgotten. It's my job to create my own legacy and make sure my name lives on, and (for the most part) it's up to me to decide how to go about doing so.
Peter Houghton, a kid that was either ignored or tormented on a daily basis, made sure he was never forgotten.
Josie Cormier won't ever be forgotten either, but I guess that wasn't really because of her doing. True, she was responsible for Matt's death, but I'm not sure she would have ever found herself in that sort of situation if it weren't for Peter. I find it a bit ironic that after years of trying to get people to accept him and treat him fairly, it only took a quarter of an hour to kill 10 people and injure countless others, both physically and mentally.
An episode of "Friends" would have lasted longer than Peter's revenge on Sterling High. One episode, without commercials. The sad thing is that if even just one adult had intervened on the relentless and extreme bullying - including pantsing him in the hallway, shoving him into a locker, stripping him naked and shoving him under a shower in the locker room...just to name a few - maybe Peter would have been fine. Maybe those 10 individuals would have lived long happy lives. Maybe Peter's family wouldn't have deteriorated, at least not any more than they already had. Maybe Josie wouldn't have felt the need to join the "popular" crowd and left Peter behind.
Maybe. But I guess we can't live our lives thinking about all the maybes. I guess we can just treat this as a learning tool.
I've read a few novels by Jodi Picoult, and I am always impressed by her knack for writing an interesting, yet not too over-the-top, story. Her style and the subjects she chooses to write about don't simply appeal to one age group or gender, but rather can be enjoyed by a variety of readers. I would be surprised if I walked into a classroom full of 8th graders reading this book - because there is some advanced subject matter not relating to the issue of bullying present - but I do think the issue is something that should be discussed with younger grade levels. However, while I would imagine a high school class reading the novel, I think there are quite a few parts that should be given to teachers as reading material.
Over the course of the novel, Picoult details events leading up to the shooting, the shooting itself, the immediate aftermath, the early years of the main characters, the trial, and a few years after the trial. I think the most pivotal point for me, as a reader and future junior high/high school English teacher, came during the trial. Peter's one and only true friend is put on the stand to testify on his behalf, and while he didn't know what Peter was planning, he made the reader sympathetic towards Peter.
The Defense Attorney asked the boy, Derek, if he had ever been bullied, and he replied that he had, but that Peter suffered far worse than he did. He went on to provide some detail as to the types of bullying that Peter faced on a daily basis, and acted as a sort of character witness. The Prosecuting Attorney then asked Derek if he had ever brought a gun to school to shoot his classmates because of bullying.
Derek firmly answered, with no, but that sometimes he wished he had.
Even if students, like Derek, never act on their pain (at least not towards others, but we can't ignore the personal violence), it doesn't mean they don't think about it. Schools that think there is no problem with bullying, that "boys are just being boys" and are just having fun, will most likely have some sort of rude awakening. I certainly don't wish this tragedy on anyone, but part of me wants to say, "Well, you were warned." My high school definitely had its problems, and a large portion of the teachers just turned the other way. In fact, many of my teachers caused and promoted teasing at times - but, of course, it was "all in good fun."
I'm sure Peter thought it was fun too.
Well, I bet he thought part of it was fun, just not the same part as everyone else...
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Books are the quietest and most constant of friends; they are the most accessible and wisest of counselors, and the most patient of teachers. - Charles W. Eliot
Thursday, May 6, 2010
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Seconds, please!
Last Tuesday, I struggled through the day, fighting off restless yawns and prying my eyes open with copious amounts of caffeine, and I blame Suzanne Collins for it all.
If it weren't for her book, I would have fallen asleep on time (or at least not too late), I would have been bright and sunshiny for my first class of the day, and I wouldn't have had to practically glue a cup of coffee to my hand for the remainder of the day. How dare she?
Okay, but I actually loved the book. True, I was a bit tired and not as cheerful as my peers probably would have appreciated, but once I started reading The Hunger Games, I really couldn't stop. It actually pained me to run to the bathroom in the middle of reading, and if it weren't for the fact that I live in a hall and use a community bathroom, I would have lugged the book to the bathroom with me.
The entire idea of the book made me really sad, but the ties to our ancient history and our own obsessions with "reality" television had me on the edge of my seat as my head filled with hundreds of "What if's." I don't think we have gotten to the extreme situation in Panem, but I definitely think there was a bit of truth in what she wrote. Hopefully - if 'death games' become a reality - society would never reach the point of a lottery that citizens were forced to enter. Part of me thinks it would be considerably easier to watch someone fight to the death if they entered themselves willingly, but the need to know why they entered in the first place would drive me crazy. What could bring someone to that point? Fame? Fortune? Freedom?
Guilt? Maybe they would be fighting to pay back a debt (monetary or not)...I know it would be hard for me to watch regardless of the reason for joining. Whether it makes sense or not, there really is a big difference between watching a fake, yet realistic looking, death in a movie, and watching someone actually die in front of you.
I guess it would be the truest form of reality: Eat or be eaten, and never give up.
---
So please, oh PLEASE, we beg, we pray, Go throw your TV set away, And in its place you can install, A lovely bookshelf on the wall. - Roald Dahl
If it weren't for her book, I would have fallen asleep on time (or at least not too late), I would have been bright and sunshiny for my first class of the day, and I wouldn't have had to practically glue a cup of coffee to my hand for the remainder of the day. How dare she?
Okay, but I actually loved the book. True, I was a bit tired and not as cheerful as my peers probably would have appreciated, but once I started reading The Hunger Games, I really couldn't stop. It actually pained me to run to the bathroom in the middle of reading, and if it weren't for the fact that I live in a hall and use a community bathroom, I would have lugged the book to the bathroom with me.
The entire idea of the book made me really sad, but the ties to our ancient history and our own obsessions with "reality" television had me on the edge of my seat as my head filled with hundreds of "What if's." I don't think we have gotten to the extreme situation in Panem, but I definitely think there was a bit of truth in what she wrote. Hopefully - if 'death games' become a reality - society would never reach the point of a lottery that citizens were forced to enter. Part of me thinks it would be considerably easier to watch someone fight to the death if they entered themselves willingly, but the need to know why they entered in the first place would drive me crazy. What could bring someone to that point? Fame? Fortune? Freedom?
Guilt? Maybe they would be fighting to pay back a debt (monetary or not)...I know it would be hard for me to watch regardless of the reason for joining. Whether it makes sense or not, there really is a big difference between watching a fake, yet realistic looking, death in a movie, and watching someone actually die in front of you.
I guess it would be the truest form of reality: Eat or be eaten, and never give up.
---
So please, oh PLEASE, we beg, we pray, Go throw your TV set away, And in its place you can install, A lovely bookshelf on the wall. - Roald Dahl
The End.
I really, truly hope that this is not the last book in the universe. I can't imagine spending my very last days reading a book wish such a miniscule glimmer of hope at the end which seems just like a cruel joke.
The concept of the book scared me. I think the overall idea is so extreme that the thought of it seems outrageous, yet at the same time, I'm not completely convinced it's impossible...a world torn apart by the greed of some, wars sparked by the need for censorship, addictions to technology, and unlikely bonds formed out of the necessity for help. Would it really take that long for our society to deteriorate to the point of mass destruction and hatred towards all?
Personally, while the possibility is still there (and will probably always be there), I think we are quite a ways off from any sort of widespread deterioration. Well, at least not in our country. I think our democratic government, and the fact that - for the most part - the people have a say in things, helps eliminate a lot of corruptions and tries to make the playing field a bit more level for everyone. We still have separations between the classes and rely almost too heavily on technology to make it through the day, but a majority of the population still studies our history and enjoys the simpler things in life. Even as we begin to move towards an entirely technology-based lifestyle, we watch movies about our history, and read electronic books about the world's greatest leaders. We're moving forward in life, but we are still very much invested in our past.
Unfortunately, life in the Urb is bit bleaker.
I don't think I'm optimistic enough to believe that things would ever improve for Spaz. True, he's now a Ryter and hopefully he'll be able to keep the world's history alive, but in a world full of destruction and pain, will he ever really be able to make a difference?
I hope so, but I won't be waging a hefty bet on it.
---
The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and strengthens our most fatal tendency – the belief that the here and now is all there is. - Allan Bloom
The concept of the book scared me. I think the overall idea is so extreme that the thought of it seems outrageous, yet at the same time, I'm not completely convinced it's impossible...a world torn apart by the greed of some, wars sparked by the need for censorship, addictions to technology, and unlikely bonds formed out of the necessity for help. Would it really take that long for our society to deteriorate to the point of mass destruction and hatred towards all?
Personally, while the possibility is still there (and will probably always be there), I think we are quite a ways off from any sort of widespread deterioration. Well, at least not in our country. I think our democratic government, and the fact that - for the most part - the people have a say in things, helps eliminate a lot of corruptions and tries to make the playing field a bit more level for everyone. We still have separations between the classes and rely almost too heavily on technology to make it through the day, but a majority of the population still studies our history and enjoys the simpler things in life. Even as we begin to move towards an entirely technology-based lifestyle, we watch movies about our history, and read electronic books about the world's greatest leaders. We're moving forward in life, but we are still very much invested in our past.
Unfortunately, life in the Urb is bit bleaker.
I don't think I'm optimistic enough to believe that things would ever improve for Spaz. True, he's now a Ryter and hopefully he'll be able to keep the world's history alive, but in a world full of destruction and pain, will he ever really be able to make a difference?
I hope so, but I won't be waging a hefty bet on it.
---
The failure to read good books both enfeebles the vision and strengthens our most fatal tendency – the belief that the here and now is all there is. - Allan Bloom
Who watches the Batman?
For years, I have battled with my brothers over what exactly makes a true superhero. Is it an intricate costume? A sweet catchphrase? Unbeatable superpowers? A consistent sidekick?
I think it is a combination of all of the above.
With that being said, I would like to make it clear right now that I do not, by any means, believe that Batman is a superhero.
Superman was born a superhero, and Spiderman was cursed into being a superhero. Even with all of the debate and angry tirades I have suffered through over the years, at least I have the dictionary on my side. According to the literary powers that be, a superhero is a figure, especially in a comic strip or cartoon, endowed with superhuman powers and usually portrayed as fighting evil or crime. Does Batman have any superhuman powers? Nope. He's strong, he's wealthy, he's intelligent, but above all, he is vengeful. A masked vigilante out to save the day from corruption, fueled by the loss of his parents.
I was always entertained by Batman's crazy antics, and I was even more entranced by the recent films. While many people seem to be troubled by Batman's vigilante-like behavior, I have never struggled with the morality of it. I think the reason I never really thought about the issue that lies behind Batman taking the law into his own hands was based on the fact that Gotham lacked any sufficient law enforcers to begin with, and someone had to do something to make sure the bad guys were kept in line...so why not let him? If he had superpowers, would people care less? Would they think it was his duty to save the day if he was transported to Earth on a glowing rock or been injected by some chemical agent....would it be okay for him to take the law into his own hands if he couldn't help the fact that he was different?
I don't think Batman is a superhero, but I think that he is pretty much the only one that cares about keeping Gotham as safe as humanly possible. It makes me think of the Watchmen. Of course, with the stress of "saving the world" weighing them down, and the possibilities that lie at their fingertips with their unbeatable powers, one of them was bound to become corrupt. But Batman, with his need to avenge his parents' death and ensure that Gotham is a safe place once again, I think he could never fully become corrupt...but then again, if he becomes corrupt will we ever even know it, when the world around him is splitting at the seams from the evil that fills every inch of its dark alleys?
But more than wondering about who is watching Batman, I think there is a better question.
Who is watching us?
---
Books, I have found, had the power to make time stand still, retreat or fly into the future. - Jim Bishop
I think it is a combination of all of the above.
With that being said, I would like to make it clear right now that I do not, by any means, believe that Batman is a superhero.
Superman was born a superhero, and Spiderman was cursed into being a superhero. Even with all of the debate and angry tirades I have suffered through over the years, at least I have the dictionary on my side. According to the literary powers that be, a superhero is a figure, especially in a comic strip or cartoon, endowed with superhuman powers and usually portrayed as fighting evil or crime. Does Batman have any superhuman powers? Nope. He's strong, he's wealthy, he's intelligent, but above all, he is vengeful. A masked vigilante out to save the day from corruption, fueled by the loss of his parents.
I was always entertained by Batman's crazy antics, and I was even more entranced by the recent films. While many people seem to be troubled by Batman's vigilante-like behavior, I have never struggled with the morality of it. I think the reason I never really thought about the issue that lies behind Batman taking the law into his own hands was based on the fact that Gotham lacked any sufficient law enforcers to begin with, and someone had to do something to make sure the bad guys were kept in line...so why not let him? If he had superpowers, would people care less? Would they think it was his duty to save the day if he was transported to Earth on a glowing rock or been injected by some chemical agent....would it be okay for him to take the law into his own hands if he couldn't help the fact that he was different?
I don't think Batman is a superhero, but I think that he is pretty much the only one that cares about keeping Gotham as safe as humanly possible. It makes me think of the Watchmen. Of course, with the stress of "saving the world" weighing them down, and the possibilities that lie at their fingertips with their unbeatable powers, one of them was bound to become corrupt. But Batman, with his need to avenge his parents' death and ensure that Gotham is a safe place once again, I think he could never fully become corrupt...but then again, if he becomes corrupt will we ever even know it, when the world around him is splitting at the seams from the evil that fills every inch of its dark alleys?
But more than wondering about who is watching Batman, I think there is a better question.
Who is watching us?
---
Books, I have found, had the power to make time stand still, retreat or fly into the future. - Jim Bishop
Wednesday, April 7, 2010
Believing in the Unbelievable
I'd like to think that fairies were real, that one day I'll wake up have magical powers. I think deep down I'd like to believe in "unrealistic" things because even if they seem completely ludicrous and unlikely, it's often better than thinking about all of the horrible things in life.
While Bobby didn't really believe a fairy was creeping into the house at night through the dog door (or did he??), I think he was willing to grab on to the idea of a fairy because the truth was much more horrible. Well, maybe Bobby never really believed that a fairy was visiting with Dennis, but he was slow to believe that a little woman who most likely murdered the last tenant was stopping by each evening.
His mother was the same way. In fact, I was shocked at how quickly Bobby's mother changed her opinion on the likelihood of a fairy truly existing. It was as if she completely disregarded the idea that fairies existed until she thought something much more terrible could have been breaking into her house. When Bobby tried to make her believe that it was a little, murdering woman - not a fairy - who was making nightly visits to Dennis, she completely ignored him and started to act like she suddenly believed the fairytale.
I get it. It easier (or more pleasant) to believe that a lovely magical being is visiting her home during the night, as opposed to a creepy little woman. Why would she want to think that a murderer was living in their midst? I'm pretty sure if I had the option to start thinking that a magical creature was causing trouble instead of an actual murderer, I would go with the magical being...I know it isn't realistic, but if I think it's something that can't possibly exist (or is unlikely, at least), then in theory I should be able to shut my eyes and wish it away...but can you wish away something that is really there?
Sometimes we cling to the unrealistic and pretend it is real in order to ignore the ugliness of the truth.
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If you believe everything you read, you better not read. - Japanese proverb
While Bobby didn't really believe a fairy was creeping into the house at night through the dog door (or did he??), I think he was willing to grab on to the idea of a fairy because the truth was much more horrible. Well, maybe Bobby never really believed that a fairy was visiting with Dennis, but he was slow to believe that a little woman who most likely murdered the last tenant was stopping by each evening.
His mother was the same way. In fact, I was shocked at how quickly Bobby's mother changed her opinion on the likelihood of a fairy truly existing. It was as if she completely disregarded the idea that fairies existed until she thought something much more terrible could have been breaking into her house. When Bobby tried to make her believe that it was a little, murdering woman - not a fairy - who was making nightly visits to Dennis, she completely ignored him and started to act like she suddenly believed the fairytale.
I get it. It easier (or more pleasant) to believe that a lovely magical being is visiting her home during the night, as opposed to a creepy little woman. Why would she want to think that a murderer was living in their midst? I'm pretty sure if I had the option to start thinking that a magical creature was causing trouble instead of an actual murderer, I would go with the magical being...I know it isn't realistic, but if I think it's something that can't possibly exist (or is unlikely, at least), then in theory I should be able to shut my eyes and wish it away...but can you wish away something that is really there?
Sometimes we cling to the unrealistic and pretend it is real in order to ignore the ugliness of the truth.
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If you believe everything you read, you better not read. - Japanese proverb
Monday, March 29, 2010
Post Traumatic Stress
In Purple Heart, Matt seemed to be the average combat fighter. He lived for the adrenaline of the job, breathing in every aspect of his GI Joe-esque lifestyle. He was able to separate himself from situations that became too touchy, primarily with the active children of the village in which his unit was stationed. He was also clung on to his ability to separate himself by at least one degree from his family and friends back home. While he was in Iraq, he viewed their simple lives as obsolete, yet he made sure not to tell them that. He asked about their daily routines, humored them with acting like life really was the cookie-cutter shape he had left behind. He let them complain about unimportant things, like biology tests and driving permits, while he stood face to face with death and won every time.
Well, I guess whether he 'won' or not is up for debate. The scars left on him were much deeper than any wound he inflicted on his enemies. I think he put up a very deep shield long before he was ever injured. As much as he lived and breathed the intesity of the battlefield, every little aspect must have gotten to him. If he was not impacted by any of it, why would he have made such great efforts to make sure that his loved ones had little knowledge of what was really going on? I am not convinced that he tried to hide the gritty details because he was ashamed of what he had done (or thought he had done) or the war efforts in general, but I think the nightmares were getting to him. Even before Ali's death and his injury, he must have been having nightmares, right? Or maybe not, maybe he was completely fine with everything. Maybe Ali's death and his TBI were just a little blip on his near-perfect mindset. Maybe Ali was the first person that really impacted him over there, and he was the only one who could really leave a lasting impression on Matt's life.
Or maybe Matt is just like everyone else who bottles up their feelings, hiding their fears from everyone else. Had he been struggling long before his injury and just never told anyone? And after he was hurt, after he watched Ali die, will he ever be the same? I would like to be optimistic and say that things would get better for Matt, that he would eventually be able to live peacefully and not think about the dreadful day in the alley, but I am not convinved life works that way. I think on some level we hold on to the painful memories so that we can remember what it is like to suffer and pick our selves back up in the end. In a way, I think we all suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in one way or another, we just choose to respond to it differently. Like Matt, my bad memories often present themselves in the form of nightmares, but in the end I crawl out of bed and make the most of the day. At some point you have to learn that you cannot change the past, no matter how hard you try. I think that as hardened as Matt may have seemed at the end, he was finally beginning to understand that. What happened to Ali was terrible, but all Matt could do at this point was prepare himself for the future as he builds a thicker wall around himself. Maybe things would be better if he talked about it with his family and friends from home, but I think that in his 25th hour he is clinging on to that last degree of separation, perhaps so that he can at least pretend things are normal and better, at least in a far and distant land.
---
Well, I guess whether he 'won' or not is up for debate. The scars left on him were much deeper than any wound he inflicted on his enemies. I think he put up a very deep shield long before he was ever injured. As much as he lived and breathed the intesity of the battlefield, every little aspect must have gotten to him. If he was not impacted by any of it, why would he have made such great efforts to make sure that his loved ones had little knowledge of what was really going on? I am not convinced that he tried to hide the gritty details because he was ashamed of what he had done (or thought he had done) or the war efforts in general, but I think the nightmares were getting to him. Even before Ali's death and his injury, he must have been having nightmares, right? Or maybe not, maybe he was completely fine with everything. Maybe Ali's death and his TBI were just a little blip on his near-perfect mindset. Maybe Ali was the first person that really impacted him over there, and he was the only one who could really leave a lasting impression on Matt's life.
Or maybe Matt is just like everyone else who bottles up their feelings, hiding their fears from everyone else. Had he been struggling long before his injury and just never told anyone? And after he was hurt, after he watched Ali die, will he ever be the same? I would like to be optimistic and say that things would get better for Matt, that he would eventually be able to live peacefully and not think about the dreadful day in the alley, but I am not convinved life works that way. I think on some level we hold on to the painful memories so that we can remember what it is like to suffer and pick our selves back up in the end. In a way, I think we all suffer from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in one way or another, we just choose to respond to it differently. Like Matt, my bad memories often present themselves in the form of nightmares, but in the end I crawl out of bed and make the most of the day. At some point you have to learn that you cannot change the past, no matter how hard you try. I think that as hardened as Matt may have seemed at the end, he was finally beginning to understand that. What happened to Ali was terrible, but all Matt could do at this point was prepare himself for the future as he builds a thicker wall around himself. Maybe things would be better if he talked about it with his family and friends from home, but I think that in his 25th hour he is clinging on to that last degree of separation, perhaps so that he can at least pretend things are normal and better, at least in a far and distant land.
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Reading is one form of escape. Running for your life is another. - Lemony Snicket
Friday, March 26, 2010
Waking Up
Sometimes I feel that if you look deep enough inside the book you are reading, you can see all of the things you hope for - peace, undying love, equality, happiness & sadness at all the right times, an achievable challenge, camaraderie in the darkest of moments, and a place you can call home. My heart ached with joy while I read Wide Awake because Duncan had all of it, and for 240 pages I was able to live vicariously through him.
Overall, I loved the concept of the book. I liked the idea of Jesus Freaks and the more liberal community working together for equality, and I personally think this is the direction a large portion of our society is starting to take. I also thought it was a nice take on our future society - whether or not it will turn out exactly that way or not - but that it didn't necessarily take too many extreme turns for dramatic effect. There were some parts that I thought were too unrealistic (like the non-shopping malls), but from a political and (future) historical aspect, I think Levithan hit the nail on the head, or was at least pretty close to doing so.
Unfortunately, while I liked the idea of the book, I wasn't too fond of the characters...for the most part we only saw very small snapshots of everyone. Also, since it was all through Duncan's eyes, I feel like we rarely learned who anyone else really was. We had his opinions on the relationships of his friends, his minimal interactions with the newcomers when they reached Kansas, and his thoughts about his boyfriend. I wish less of it had been from his perspective because then maybe we could have learned how the situation felt to the others. I personally wish I could have heard more from his friends that were considered Jesus Freaks. When did that group start to favor the more 'democratic' political views? What kind of drama was there between them and the people like Mary Catherine? How many more people associated with this group? Was it generally younger people, or people of all ages? What other political groups were there? I guess I ended the book with more questions than I wanted, and it isn't that I needed to know these things, but I'm still a bit curious. I think it would have added a bit more depth to the story that goes beyond Duncan's feelings.
Aside from the fact that the book may be too political to teach in some lower grades, I think that the very explicit scene with Duncan and Jimmy is a bit too inappropriate. I was personally a bit disappointed in Levithan for including it, because I felt like he had built up a strong relationship between them already, and that he automatically made his book questionable by including it. Any scene that is that graphic (regardless of the genders/ages of the individuals involved) is going to be hard to convince as being vital to a plot to a group of concerned parents. I think it would be very difficult to use this book in a classroom, and I think that it's unfortunate because it was a great story and a very interesting look into the future.
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Books are the compasses and telescopes and sextants and charts which others have prepared to help us navigate the dangerous seas of human life. - Jesse Lee Bennett
Overall, I loved the concept of the book. I liked the idea of Jesus Freaks and the more liberal community working together for equality, and I personally think this is the direction a large portion of our society is starting to take. I also thought it was a nice take on our future society - whether or not it will turn out exactly that way or not - but that it didn't necessarily take too many extreme turns for dramatic effect. There were some parts that I thought were too unrealistic (like the non-shopping malls), but from a political and (future) historical aspect, I think Levithan hit the nail on the head, or was at least pretty close to doing so.
Unfortunately, while I liked the idea of the book, I wasn't too fond of the characters...for the most part we only saw very small snapshots of everyone. Also, since it was all through Duncan's eyes, I feel like we rarely learned who anyone else really was. We had his opinions on the relationships of his friends, his minimal interactions with the newcomers when they reached Kansas, and his thoughts about his boyfriend. I wish less of it had been from his perspective because then maybe we could have learned how the situation felt to the others. I personally wish I could have heard more from his friends that were considered Jesus Freaks. When did that group start to favor the more 'democratic' political views? What kind of drama was there between them and the people like Mary Catherine? How many more people associated with this group? Was it generally younger people, or people of all ages? What other political groups were there? I guess I ended the book with more questions than I wanted, and it isn't that I needed to know these things, but I'm still a bit curious. I think it would have added a bit more depth to the story that goes beyond Duncan's feelings.
Aside from the fact that the book may be too political to teach in some lower grades, I think that the very explicit scene with Duncan and Jimmy is a bit too inappropriate. I was personally a bit disappointed in Levithan for including it, because I felt like he had built up a strong relationship between them already, and that he automatically made his book questionable by including it. Any scene that is that graphic (regardless of the genders/ages of the individuals involved) is going to be hard to convince as being vital to a plot to a group of concerned parents. I think it would be very difficult to use this book in a classroom, and I think that it's unfortunate because it was a great story and a very interesting look into the future.
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Books are the compasses and telescopes and sextants and charts which others have prepared to help us navigate the dangerous seas of human life. - Jesse Lee Bennett
Monday, March 8, 2010
5...4...3...2...1...
Prepare for the fallout. What you see is not necessarily what you will get. Everyone is (probably) hiding something. Time is running out, and your life is based on lies.
I'm going to make a BIG stretch to connect the idea of putting on an act for selfish reasons. Please bear with me for a moment.
Ben Wolf is like the Big Bad Wolf, but little. In order to make life a little more pleasant for himself, he dons the disguise of another person (Wolf + granny outfit = Red Riding Hood's granny; Ben + happy smile + rebellion + new interests in football = town hero/cool kid). Okay, so to be fair, Ben was not a "bad guy" like Wolfie, but he wasn't quite himself.
Now while the basics of Ben's actions can draw some similarities to his fake-namesake, Ben was not being selfish. I know many of my classmates would disagree with me, but I honestly believe that Ben did what he thought was right, and it was completely up to him to make his own decision. As a family member or best friend, I would have wanted to know what Ben was going through, but I would also understand that he didn't want to suddenly be treated differently. I think this was something that many of my classmates overlooked. It is true that Ben was able to prepare for his death while everyone around him barely had the opportunity to grasp the caliber of the situation, but what amount of time is really going to help others become okay with death? Watching someone die one slow day at a time can be much more painful than losing them with little notice. Ben knew his limits and was prepared to share the truth when he felt it was right. I think it is unfair to judge him or feel angry because he didn't tell his family and friends sooner, because we can't completely understand his situation or know how we would act if we were him. We can speculate and say that there is no way we would ever keep the truth from our family and friends, but if we knew we only had one year to live and wanted life to continue as if it was next to normal, would we tell them?
Everyone lives life differently, so why can't we just let Ben live his the way he wants? He wasn't being self-destructive, he was trying to make a difference in the world, and he was just trying to live. He was looking out for those around him (since he didn't want them to suffer), but moreover he was looking out for number one. I think his psychologist put it the best way - "The flight attendant says if the oxygen mask drops down, be sure to put on your own before helping anyone with theirs." If you don't try to save yourself, you won't be any good to anyone else.
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The ability to read awoke inside me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive. - Malcolm X
I'm going to make a BIG stretch to connect the idea of putting on an act for selfish reasons. Please bear with me for a moment.
Ben Wolf is like the Big Bad Wolf, but little. In order to make life a little more pleasant for himself, he dons the disguise of another person (Wolf + granny outfit = Red Riding Hood's granny; Ben + happy smile + rebellion + new interests in football = town hero/cool kid). Okay, so to be fair, Ben was not a "bad guy" like Wolfie, but he wasn't quite himself.
Now while the basics of Ben's actions can draw some similarities to his fake-namesake, Ben was not being selfish. I know many of my classmates would disagree with me, but I honestly believe that Ben did what he thought was right, and it was completely up to him to make his own decision. As a family member or best friend, I would have wanted to know what Ben was going through, but I would also understand that he didn't want to suddenly be treated differently. I think this was something that many of my classmates overlooked. It is true that Ben was able to prepare for his death while everyone around him barely had the opportunity to grasp the caliber of the situation, but what amount of time is really going to help others become okay with death? Watching someone die one slow day at a time can be much more painful than losing them with little notice. Ben knew his limits and was prepared to share the truth when he felt it was right. I think it is unfair to judge him or feel angry because he didn't tell his family and friends sooner, because we can't completely understand his situation or know how we would act if we were him. We can speculate and say that there is no way we would ever keep the truth from our family and friends, but if we knew we only had one year to live and wanted life to continue as if it was next to normal, would we tell them?
Everyone lives life differently, so why can't we just let Ben live his the way he wants? He wasn't being self-destructive, he was trying to make a difference in the world, and he was just trying to live. He was looking out for those around him (since he didn't want them to suffer), but moreover he was looking out for number one. I think his psychologist put it the best way - "The flight attendant says if the oxygen mask drops down, be sure to put on your own before helping anyone with theirs." If you don't try to save yourself, you won't be any good to anyone else.
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The ability to read awoke inside me some long dormant craving to be mentally alive. - Malcolm X
ˈswēt-ˌhärt
There is so much meaning behind a single word. For example, beauty lies in the eye of the beholder, as does love. We can love on many different levels. In fact, the different versions are so varied that they are often misinterpreted or misunderstood by others.
The love between Jenna/Jennifer and Cameron is the truest example of this. To me, it was clear that loved each other, but not in the romantic sense. It was more the fact that they understood each other's pain and therefore were inseparable. They fed off of the pain and stripped innocence of each other.
This was by far the most difficult novel for me to get through. On so many levels I was able to see myself in Jenna/Jennifer, and it was both painful and magnificent. I completely understand the basic need of being able to connect with someone else in your darkest moments. I have personally gone through a number of traumatic experiences, and every single time I find myself longing to cling to someone else who went through the same experience. I never have to talk about what happened, I don't have to discuss my feelings, I don't have to constantly relive the painful memories...I can just live - live and let go. It is easier to be around someone who knows exactly what you are going through than to be surrounded by other people who think they understand and can relate, but in reality, all situations are different and everyone reacts differently to every little thing, so they can't really understand...can they?
I cried when Cameron left, and I cried a little harder when I found out he was still alive. I saw my 9-year-old self, after a 5-year-old at my school was hit by a car. I remembered my best friend growing away from me. He may not have physically left like Cameron, but he was gone in every other aspect. To me, he was barely living in my world. I think it is almost more painful this way. You constantly see the people who remind you of what happened, but they refuse to acknowledge the elephant in the room that has changed your life forever. Cameron's departure forced Jenna/Jennifer to move on, and allowed her to attempt to have a functional life. Luckily, my experience as a 9-year-old was very different, but it still left a mark on my life. There is no way to overcome loss overnight, but having someone around who understands what you're going through makes the difference...whether they are holding you down and preventing your from moving on, or just helping you make it through the day. This connection is based on the purest form of love - the love that is grown out of pain.
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a sweetheart is one who is loved, a generally likable person, or a remarkable one of its kind. I'm not sure I agree with the implication that everyone must feel this way about a person. Sure, as a society we throw the term around to people who are nice and sweet, but I could despise someone, and as long as someone, anyone, has a positive opinion of them, they can be a sweetheart. Limiting words to a single dictionary definition is a mistake. There is much more there than what has been dictated by scholars and the mass majority. We define our lives, so in a sense shouldn't we define the words we use to describe them? It may not have seemed like the perfect title to some of my classmates (well that's an understatement actually...more like most of my classmates), but I think it fits. Jenna/Jennifer was loved by Cameron, likable in his eyes, and a remarkable, heroic little girl. According to Merriam-Webster, that's what a sweetheart is.
I think the love is much deeper than the surface, and would argue there is more to it...but at least that's a start. I think that Jenna/Jennifer and Cameron would have been connected forever, regardless of the distance between them.
---
A book is like a piece of rope; it takes on meaning only in connection with the things it holds together. - Norman Cousins
The love between Jenna/Jennifer and Cameron is the truest example of this. To me, it was clear that loved each other, but not in the romantic sense. It was more the fact that they understood each other's pain and therefore were inseparable. They fed off of the pain and stripped innocence of each other.
This was by far the most difficult novel for me to get through. On so many levels I was able to see myself in Jenna/Jennifer, and it was both painful and magnificent. I completely understand the basic need of being able to connect with someone else in your darkest moments. I have personally gone through a number of traumatic experiences, and every single time I find myself longing to cling to someone else who went through the same experience. I never have to talk about what happened, I don't have to discuss my feelings, I don't have to constantly relive the painful memories...I can just live - live and let go. It is easier to be around someone who knows exactly what you are going through than to be surrounded by other people who think they understand and can relate, but in reality, all situations are different and everyone reacts differently to every little thing, so they can't really understand...can they?
I cried when Cameron left, and I cried a little harder when I found out he was still alive. I saw my 9-year-old self, after a 5-year-old at my school was hit by a car. I remembered my best friend growing away from me. He may not have physically left like Cameron, but he was gone in every other aspect. To me, he was barely living in my world. I think it is almost more painful this way. You constantly see the people who remind you of what happened, but they refuse to acknowledge the elephant in the room that has changed your life forever. Cameron's departure forced Jenna/Jennifer to move on, and allowed her to attempt to have a functional life. Luckily, my experience as a 9-year-old was very different, but it still left a mark on my life. There is no way to overcome loss overnight, but having someone around who understands what you're going through makes the difference...whether they are holding you down and preventing your from moving on, or just helping you make it through the day. This connection is based on the purest form of love - the love that is grown out of pain.
According to the Merriam-Webster Dictionary, a sweetheart is one who is loved, a generally likable person, or a remarkable one of its kind. I'm not sure I agree with the implication that everyone must feel this way about a person. Sure, as a society we throw the term around to people who are nice and sweet, but I could despise someone, and as long as someone, anyone, has a positive opinion of them, they can be a sweetheart. Limiting words to a single dictionary definition is a mistake. There is much more there than what has been dictated by scholars and the mass majority. We define our lives, so in a sense shouldn't we define the words we use to describe them? It may not have seemed like the perfect title to some of my classmates (well that's an understatement actually...more like most of my classmates), but I think it fits. Jenna/Jennifer was loved by Cameron, likable in his eyes, and a remarkable, heroic little girl. According to Merriam-Webster, that's what a sweetheart is.
I think the love is much deeper than the surface, and would argue there is more to it...but at least that's a start. I think that Jenna/Jennifer and Cameron would have been connected forever, regardless of the distance between them.
---
A book is like a piece of rope; it takes on meaning only in connection with the things it holds together. - Norman Cousins
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Little Boxes All the Same
To start off, this is now officially one of my favorite novels.
In a land where we are often expected to tow the line of the norm and not standout, I understand the need to escape. Like an adolescent filled to the brim with helium dreams, with my eyes set on adventure, I'll float away into the abyss and never come back.
Unless my dreams are popped by those who don't believe in me,
And I fall back to the ground,
And am picked up by a child playing in the park,
And shoved into a trash can,
Where I can't dream
Or escape,
And then I'll never become what I thought I could be,
Or go where I thought I could go.
And my dreams will be dead.
Sometimes I wonder if this is why youthful dreams die. Do we fear too much about what could happen that we never tie ourselves to our getaway string, but instead lie limp and deflated, just hanging back on Earth with the rest of the world? What if things don't work out, what if we just end up failing and everyone knows?
What if we don't really want to escape, but just want people to think that we are bigger than this life? What if we just want someone to care? What if we want to be found but they never find the clues we leave behind?
I think I'm more like Q than I am like Margo, but I get wanting to escape but not wanting to let go...I'm not sure you can completely let go of everything. Even Margo needed to connect, whether or not she actually made the effort to do so.
I think, like Q, I want to be the one to make the connection for people. I read into things too deeply. I do think Margo wanted someone to find her – or at least make the effort – and I think it is in Q’s nature to do that. I may dream of flying to a faraway land to escape the ‘paper towns’ we live in, but I guess I don’t really want to be lost. The moment I want to be lost forever, I hope someone decides to intervene.
When Margo started describing paper towns, I thought of the song Little Boxes:
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
And the people in the houses all went to the university
Where they were put in boxes and they came out all the same,
And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers, and business executives
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course and drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children and the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp and then to the university
Where they are put in boxes and they come out all the same.
And the boys go into business and marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
Not wanting to be a cookie cutter paper girl in a paper town, or a copy of my neighbor in a land made out of ticky tacky, is the reason people want to escape and never come back.
Luckily, with an emphasis on young adult lit, I think teens understand that they really can be unique in a ticky tacky world. Finally we have a way to “float” away without actually having to be lost forever. Literature can be our escape. I wonder if things had been different if Margo had had a teacher or anyone who told her it was okay to be different or helped her find a way to escape without actually leaving. Would she still have left? I guess even she thought she was a paper girl though, so maybe nothing would have been different. Maybe she always intended to leave, and nothing could stop her.
---
While thought exists, words are alive and literature becomes an escape, not from, but into living. - Cyril Connolly
In a land where we are often expected to tow the line of the norm and not standout, I understand the need to escape. Like an adolescent filled to the brim with helium dreams, with my eyes set on adventure, I'll float away into the abyss and never come back.
Unless my dreams are popped by those who don't believe in me,
And I fall back to the ground,
And am picked up by a child playing in the park,
And shoved into a trash can,
Where I can't dream
Or escape,
And then I'll never become what I thought I could be,
Or go where I thought I could go.
And my dreams will be dead.
Sometimes I wonder if this is why youthful dreams die. Do we fear too much about what could happen that we never tie ourselves to our getaway string, but instead lie limp and deflated, just hanging back on Earth with the rest of the world? What if things don't work out, what if we just end up failing and everyone knows?
What if we don't really want to escape, but just want people to think that we are bigger than this life? What if we just want someone to care? What if we want to be found but they never find the clues we leave behind?
I think I'm more like Q than I am like Margo, but I get wanting to escape but not wanting to let go...I'm not sure you can completely let go of everything. Even Margo needed to connect, whether or not she actually made the effort to do so.
I think, like Q, I want to be the one to make the connection for people. I read into things too deeply. I do think Margo wanted someone to find her – or at least make the effort – and I think it is in Q’s nature to do that. I may dream of flying to a faraway land to escape the ‘paper towns’ we live in, but I guess I don’t really want to be lost. The moment I want to be lost forever, I hope someone decides to intervene.
When Margo started describing paper towns, I thought of the song Little Boxes:
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes made of ticky tacky,
Little boxes on the hillside,
Little boxes all the same.
There’s a green one and a pink one and a blue one and a yellow one
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
And the people in the houses all went to the university
Where they were put in boxes and they came out all the same,
And there’s doctors and there’s lawyers, and business executives
And they’re all made out of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
And they all play on the golf course and drink their martinis dry,
And they all have pretty children and the children go to school
And the children go to summer camp and then to the university
Where they are put in boxes and they come out all the same.
And the boys go into business and marry and raise a family
In boxes made of ticky tacky and they all look just the same.
Not wanting to be a cookie cutter paper girl in a paper town, or a copy of my neighbor in a land made out of ticky tacky, is the reason people want to escape and never come back.
Luckily, with an emphasis on young adult lit, I think teens understand that they really can be unique in a ticky tacky world. Finally we have a way to “float” away without actually having to be lost forever. Literature can be our escape. I wonder if things had been different if Margo had had a teacher or anyone who told her it was okay to be different or helped her find a way to escape without actually leaving. Would she still have left? I guess even she thought she was a paper girl though, so maybe nothing would have been different. Maybe she always intended to leave, and nothing could stop her.
---
While thought exists, words are alive and literature becomes an escape, not from, but into living. - Cyril Connolly
Monday, February 8, 2010
Don't judge a book by its cover...
My parents have been telling me this for years, as have my teachers and various other people in my life. Generally I follow this to the T. I'll read almost anything at least once. I like to try a variety of genres. Length doesn't matter either. Basically any book has a shot at being added to my repertoire.
However, even I have been guilty of judging a book by its less-than-appealing cover art, tacking title, and overall juvenile appeal.
Needless to say, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks started off a little rocky for me. To be fair, I was coming down with a cold and didn't really want to be reading for homework in the first place, but usually starting a novel is not that hard for me. I struggled so much because it looked like something I could picture ordering out a middle school book-order, or pick up from the kids section of the library. It didn't scream 'young adult lit' to me, but really just 'young lit'. I only made it about 30 pages into it when I started on Friday and didn't pick it up again until Sunday. I wasn't feeling any better on Sunday but I knew I had to make it through the book eventually, so I just started reading. The more I read, the more I liked it. Actually, the more I loved it! It really was very interesting and entertaining, especially when she made up negative forms for words. I found Frankie to be witty, intriguing, and everything I wished I was when I was teenager - adventurous and daring, but stealth with her actions. I was worried at first that a majority of the novel was going to revolve around her crush on Matthew, but not really. It really focused on her need to be included and her incredible intelligence.
I think the quick mention of her old boyfriend in the first few pages and her sudden blossoming into womanhood, combined with the stereotypical young adult lit cover, is what pushed me over the edge. Once I finished the novel, I really wanted more, and I was angry with myself that I almost didn't get into it at all because I was so set on not liking it. And I LOVE to read. I was dreading the novel because I "knew" it was going to be about some preteen/teen struggling through school, with a crush on the coolest kid who doesn't really know her, and a family that doesn't understand her. Luckily, there was much more to it than that, but I think it's important to acknowledge that this is what I got from it right away. If I had doubts right away, and I LOVE to read and will give almost ANYTHING a shot, how can I expect my future students, who may not like reading at all (especially not when it is required), to read and enjoy a book that is packaged to look juvenile. I can't imagine passing this novel to a 17-year-old boy and saying "Enjoy!" without him looking as if it's the most painful thing he's ever held in his hand. Okay, well maybe it won't be that extreme, but I have a point. I think it should be presented as young adult lit, not young adult lit. There are a lot of themes in young adult lit that are completely relevant for junior high and high school students, but if it's presented as being something that's written for people their age, it sometimes hurts itself by appearing too "young". How can we make young adult lit seem as interesting and academically challenging as works by Shakespeare, Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, or Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, when it looks like something a 6th grader might pick up?
So, even though it started rough and I don't like how it is packaged, I flew through the novel in an afternoon. I do think high schoolers would find it really interesting too, and that it could be an interesting read for boys and girls. I just don't know if the appearance would have a negative impact on students.
After finishing the novel, I thought I would get a head start on our next one, Paper Towns. As soon as I picked it up I thought, "Man, this is something I could see sitting on the 'Buy 2, Get 1 Free' table at Borders, not in the young adult lit section." Then I opened it, read the first line and realized that you really can't judge a book by its cover. Looks like a long story about a boy's lifelong love for his next door neighbor...hopefully I'm pleasantly surprised.
---
The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page. - Augustine
However, even I have been guilty of judging a book by its less-than-appealing cover art, tacking title, and overall juvenile appeal.
Needless to say, The Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks started off a little rocky for me. To be fair, I was coming down with a cold and didn't really want to be reading for homework in the first place, but usually starting a novel is not that hard for me. I struggled so much because it looked like something I could picture ordering out a middle school book-order, or pick up from the kids section of the library. It didn't scream 'young adult lit' to me, but really just 'young lit'. I only made it about 30 pages into it when I started on Friday and didn't pick it up again until Sunday. I wasn't feeling any better on Sunday but I knew I had to make it through the book eventually, so I just started reading. The more I read, the more I liked it. Actually, the more I loved it! It really was very interesting and entertaining, especially when she made up negative forms for words. I found Frankie to be witty, intriguing, and everything I wished I was when I was teenager - adventurous and daring, but stealth with her actions. I was worried at first that a majority of the novel was going to revolve around her crush on Matthew, but not really. It really focused on her need to be included and her incredible intelligence.
I think the quick mention of her old boyfriend in the first few pages and her sudden blossoming into womanhood, combined with the stereotypical young adult lit cover, is what pushed me over the edge. Once I finished the novel, I really wanted more, and I was angry with myself that I almost didn't get into it at all because I was so set on not liking it. And I LOVE to read. I was dreading the novel because I "knew" it was going to be about some preteen/teen struggling through school, with a crush on the coolest kid who doesn't really know her, and a family that doesn't understand her. Luckily, there was much more to it than that, but I think it's important to acknowledge that this is what I got from it right away. If I had doubts right away, and I LOVE to read and will give almost ANYTHING a shot, how can I expect my future students, who may not like reading at all (especially not when it is required), to read and enjoy a book that is packaged to look juvenile. I can't imagine passing this novel to a 17-year-old boy and saying "Enjoy!" without him looking as if it's the most painful thing he's ever held in his hand. Okay, well maybe it won't be that extreme, but I have a point. I think it should be presented as young adult lit, not young adult lit. There are a lot of themes in young adult lit that are completely relevant for junior high and high school students, but if it's presented as being something that's written for people their age, it sometimes hurts itself by appearing too "young". How can we make young adult lit seem as interesting and academically challenging as works by Shakespeare, Lee's To Kill a Mockingbird, or Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451, when it looks like something a 6th grader might pick up?
So, even though it started rough and I don't like how it is packaged, I flew through the novel in an afternoon. I do think high schoolers would find it really interesting too, and that it could be an interesting read for boys and girls. I just don't know if the appearance would have a negative impact on students.
After finishing the novel, I thought I would get a head start on our next one, Paper Towns. As soon as I picked it up I thought, "Man, this is something I could see sitting on the 'Buy 2, Get 1 Free' table at Borders, not in the young adult lit section." Then I opened it, read the first line and realized that you really can't judge a book by its cover. Looks like a long story about a boy's lifelong love for his next door neighbor...hopefully I'm pleasantly surprised.
---
The world is a book and those who do not travel read only a page. - Augustine
"I had a dream I reached inside my chest and held my heart, to try to keep it still."
There aren't really words to describe how much I enjoyed Skim. I felt like I really knew her by the end, that she had let me in on all of her deepest secrets, all of her insecure thoughts, but I think I learned more about life than I did about her.
To me, (S)kim seemed to be the stereotypical adolescent. She didn't quite fit in with everyone around her, she wasn't really fond of her home life, she was struggling with her new found crush, and she didn't know how to express her self (or perhaps she just didn't care to). (S)kim was so concerned with acknowledging her distaste for stuff that we really didn't learn too much about her. Even her thoughts appear to be filtered, for the most part. What intrigued me the most was the fact that she crossed out her own thoughts, as if she didn't want us toe hear her say them, but really she couldn't hide anything from us.
Or maybe she was hiding everything.
Is (S)kim so insecure that she can't even think the truth because she doesn't trust us?
I do think there was a lot of truth in what (S)kim told us, but I think it is fair to assume that her guard was up almost the entire time. She told us what she wanted to tell us, just enough to pull us in, but not enough to fully know who she was. Luckily, while she was crossing out thoughts and possibly keeping quiet about various things, the illustration gave us a deeper look into her life that even she might not have been able to explain.
I guess I liked the secrecy though. It felt real. Why should she tell us everything? If she can't trust her own friend, how can she trust perfect strangers? But then again, maybe the person she didn't trust was herself. Maybe she needed to write through her feelings in order to make sense of it all. I liked Skim. It was a really cool way to tell a story, and I felt myself longing for more in the end. I guess that's the truest test of success - leaving your readers wishing that the story would go on forever...
---
You know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend. - Paul Sweeney
To me, (S)kim seemed to be the stereotypical adolescent. She didn't quite fit in with everyone around her, she wasn't really fond of her home life, she was struggling with her new found crush, and she didn't know how to express her self (or perhaps she just didn't care to). (S)kim was so concerned with acknowledging her distaste for stuff that we really didn't learn too much about her. Even her thoughts appear to be filtered, for the most part. What intrigued me the most was the fact that she crossed out her own thoughts, as if she didn't want us toe hear her say them, but really she couldn't hide anything from us.
Or maybe she was hiding everything.
Is (S)kim so insecure that she can't even think the truth because she doesn't trust us?
I do think there was a lot of truth in what (S)kim told us, but I think it is fair to assume that her guard was up almost the entire time. She told us what she wanted to tell us, just enough to pull us in, but not enough to fully know who she was. Luckily, while she was crossing out thoughts and possibly keeping quiet about various things, the illustration gave us a deeper look into her life that even she might not have been able to explain.
I guess I liked the secrecy though. It felt real. Why should she tell us everything? If she can't trust her own friend, how can she trust perfect strangers? But then again, maybe the person she didn't trust was herself. Maybe she needed to write through her feelings in order to make sense of it all. I liked Skim. It was a really cool way to tell a story, and I felt myself longing for more in the end. I guess that's the truest test of success - leaving your readers wishing that the story would go on forever...
---
You know you've read a good book when you turn the last page and feel a little as if you have lost a friend. - Paul Sweeney
Thursday, January 28, 2010
The Perks of Being a _____________.
I like puzzles. I appreciate the complexities and the constant need to try to find a solution, an answer that makes sense. I like knowing that you have the clues right in front of you and that if you tweak everything just enough, you can turn into Nancy Drew or Sherlock Holmes without leaving the comfort of the tattered pages in front of you.
The Perks of Being a Wallflower is not a puzzle.
Many readers get caught up in who Charlie is writing to, but that isn't the point. Who cares who he wrote to? Does it change the context or the meaning of the things he said? Does it make him less credible? Does it make us (as readers) less willing to read? Does it make it less enjoyable as a novel?
No. It doesn't change anything because knowing who Charlie wrote to is not the point. The point is that he wrote to someone in the first place Unlike Melinda, he told someone about his problems, his dreams, and every little detail that may seem insignificant, but that make up the most interesting and quirky aspects of Charlie.
I guess in writing this blog I'm like Charlie, too. Who knows who will see this, but the fact that someone will, that someone may take something away from the words I'm writing is all that matters. Charlie wasn't looking for a response. I'm the same - I just don't have the anonymous friend that he did.
I think everyone is getting far too caught up in who he is writing to. It really does not matter. If all you take out of the book is some pit of curiosity resonating inside you, then you missed the entire point. It is not vital to know who he was talking to; it’s just important that he - unlike Melinda - was talking at all.
I like that I don't know who he was talking to. If I did, I might worry more about their reactions to Charlie's escapades than my own. And then I really wouldn't have been challenged as a reader, and that would be a shame.
---
These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. - Gilbert Highet
The Perks of Being a Wallflower is not a puzzle.
Many readers get caught up in who Charlie is writing to, but that isn't the point. Who cares who he wrote to? Does it change the context or the meaning of the things he said? Does it make him less credible? Does it make us (as readers) less willing to read? Does it make it less enjoyable as a novel?
No. It doesn't change anything because knowing who Charlie wrote to is not the point. The point is that he wrote to someone in the first place Unlike Melinda, he told someone about his problems, his dreams, and every little detail that may seem insignificant, but that make up the most interesting and quirky aspects of Charlie.
I guess in writing this blog I'm like Charlie, too. Who knows who will see this, but the fact that someone will, that someone may take something away from the words I'm writing is all that matters. Charlie wasn't looking for a response. I'm the same - I just don't have the anonymous friend that he did.
I think everyone is getting far too caught up in who he is writing to. It really does not matter. If all you take out of the book is some pit of curiosity resonating inside you, then you missed the entire point. It is not vital to know who he was talking to; it’s just important that he - unlike Melinda - was talking at all.
I like that I don't know who he was talking to. If I did, I might worry more about their reactions to Charlie's escapades than my own. And then I really wouldn't have been challenged as a reader, and that would be a shame.
---
These are not books, lumps of lifeless paper, but minds alive on the shelves. - Gilbert Highet
Sunday, January 24, 2010
ME-linda.
Sometimes I feel like Melinda; speaking is often overrated. Now writing and reading, on the other hand, they always have a purpose.
When reading books like this, I like to put myself in the mind of the main character. People tell you they want to help, they want to make things better, that they "understand what you are going through". I like to think that all of that is true, but who can really know what you are going through? We all react to situations differently. I guess that's what makes living like Melinda simple and hard at the same time. If Melinda thought her friends might act the way Andy did about her rape, would she want to go through the hassle of telling them? Would it even make her feel any better? Probably not. It would probably only emphasize the fact that she was alone.
I think the most unfortunate thing is that it took Melinda months to find some sort of outlet for her pain. Though people told her to speak, she couldn't ever find anyone to really listen to what she was saying...well, I guess in reality she wasn't physically saying anything, but her actions and sudden depressive state spoke louder than any words she could have muttered. She finally took to art, though she didn't even think she was very good at it, and as a reader, it made me happy that she finally had a way to escape her painful reality.
Writing and reading have always been my escape from reality, but I guess this story has been a bit of a Catch-22 for me. Do I read and become lost in Melinda's sorrow, or remain detached and unable to escape my own? I'm going to count my blessings that my pain isn't as immense as Melinda's.
Still, even with some sorrow in my life, I find myself filling with hope at the end. Even Melinda, who refused to speak a word of her pain for a year, was finally able to share her story and truly escape from her own pain.
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We read to know we are not alone. - C.S. Lewis
When reading books like this, I like to put myself in the mind of the main character. People tell you they want to help, they want to make things better, that they "understand what you are going through". I like to think that all of that is true, but who can really know what you are going through? We all react to situations differently. I guess that's what makes living like Melinda simple and hard at the same time. If Melinda thought her friends might act the way Andy did about her rape, would she want to go through the hassle of telling them? Would it even make her feel any better? Probably not. It would probably only emphasize the fact that she was alone.
I think the most unfortunate thing is that it took Melinda months to find some sort of outlet for her pain. Though people told her to speak, she couldn't ever find anyone to really listen to what she was saying...well, I guess in reality she wasn't physically saying anything, but her actions and sudden depressive state spoke louder than any words she could have muttered. She finally took to art, though she didn't even think she was very good at it, and as a reader, it made me happy that she finally had a way to escape her painful reality.
Writing and reading have always been my escape from reality, but I guess this story has been a bit of a Catch-22 for me. Do I read and become lost in Melinda's sorrow, or remain detached and unable to escape my own? I'm going to count my blessings that my pain isn't as immense as Melinda's.
Still, even with some sorrow in my life, I find myself filling with hope at the end. Even Melinda, who refused to speak a word of her pain for a year, was finally able to share her story and truly escape from her own pain.
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We read to know we are not alone. - C.S. Lewis
Reading, reading, reading.
Ahh, my love for books will suit me well this semester. Having the inclination to read anything and everything, I am so excited to tackle the box full of books that have been carefully added to the collection in my room. What I'm even most excited about, though, is not the just the number of books I get to read as homework (because honestly, what is better than getting to read a fun and interesting novel for homework??), but the variety we get to read! While I was thrilled (and saw it coming...) when I saw Speak and The Perks of Being a Wallflower start off our semester, I am really looking forward to reading the rest of the novels. I have heard of a couple of them, but for the most part they are completely new adventures I am patiently anticipating. I will admit that if I were taking this course a year ago, upon first glance I would have been slightly-less-than-thrilled about reading the graphic novels because, while I am a fan of comics and have three older brothers who have been collecting classics throughout the years, I never had teachers who pushed graphic novels as being real literature. Luckily, my thoughts changed as soon as I took English 110 with Erin Mae Clark last fall. After I got past the horror of carrying my copy of In the Shadow of No Towers, which would not fit into my messenger bag, much to my dismay, I often felt that I could find more "literary excellence" in a graphic novel than in a lot of the books my friends read. But I guess that's what I like most about reading. You never know what you are going to get.
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To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music that words make. - Truman Capote
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To me, the greatest pleasure of writing is not what it's about, but the inner music that words make. - Truman Capote
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