I had originally chosen to read Maus for the selected title in the graphic novel genre of teen lit. I chose that text because I had heard from several of my colleagues that it was a very powerful text, and a very good read. I completely agree with them on both of assessments. I found the conceptualization of the text to be original and unique, and the final product to be remarkable. However, I also was fortunate enough to read a classmate’s copy of The Arrival during the final twenty minutes allotted in class, and I absolutely fell in love with that text – and so decided to focus on Tan’s text.
On my walk home from class on December 7th, I called that friend of mine that I discuss fine literature with (we all seem to have a friend that we have great conversation with about a limited topic, don’t we?). I told him that I found something brand new and beautiful. In short, I could not wait to share this text with others. By the time I had gotten to my car, I had already decided to purchase a copy of the book for my brother teaching abroad in Japan, another for this aforementioned friend of mine, and one more for myself. Luckily, Amazon.com had a good deal on it.
The illustrations in The Arrival are simply beautiful, and I love when authors choose to spend as much time and attention incorporating detail into illustration as they do in the written text. It saddens me that our culture tends to disregard illustrations in “high” literature, often leaving the cover art (typically chosen by the publisher for marketing purposes, and having nothing to do with the text or author’s intentions) as a text’s only illustration. In this text, Tan shows how illustrations alone can tell a novel’s story. I have enjoyed picture books in the past, and I have certainly enjoyed (many) graphic novels – but this text struck me as being brand new. Like only exceptional texts can do, this one affected me by staying in the forefront of my mind for days on end. Several of my friends and colleagues were pinned down and forced to listen to me inadequately tell about this story. None of them got the real picture, I am sure – but the media specialist looked further into it, and is ordering a few copies for the school.
When I remark that this story was “brand new” to me, I refer to two things in particular. First is the aesthetic beauty of the text (its illustrations, cover art, and composition), and elegant subtlety of the story it tells without the use of words (clear narrative without being too obvious). The second is the universality of this story. To quote Gene Luen Yang in his review that appeared in the New York Times, “The Arrival tells not an immigrant’s story, but the immigrant’s story” (http://www.nytimes.com/2007/11/11/books/review/Yang-t.html). The protagonist’s ethnicity and nationality are not known for sure, and the collage of faces in the opening of the text serves to tell the reader that this story is universal to immigrant experiences of all nationalities and ethnicities. There is not even a language to determine the old world or the new – just images that help us to determine that the new world is confusing and intimidating to the immigrant traveler. The themes of this text – fear, love, family, etc. are themes that are universal throughout cultures, and are themes that are present in every immigrant’s tale. Yang goes further to analyze many more images in a comparison to New York and Ellis Island; I was satisfied in recognizing that the images of the new world were purposefully foreign to any reader from our world.
This text struck a chord with me. I am not at all concerned with whether this is technically a graphic novel or a picture book. In my opinion, those are conversations that happen when there is not enough to speak on in the text itself. This text provided me with more to think and speak about than most texts we read this semester, and it accomplished this without the benefit of any written language.
Monday, December 14, 2009
American Born Chinese - Reflections
· I recognize all of the toys that the boys are playing with on page 26. This tells me two things; the artist has a special attention to detail in this text, and I know too much about Transformers. I even know the names of the figures.
· Why are teachers so often portrayed as bumbling idiots in many of the texts that we’re reading?
My initial impression of this text was not entirely enthusiastic. The plot lines did not engage me right from the start. However, I soon found myself caring about what was happening with two of the characters in his journey of self-discovery. Throughout the middle, I really enjoyed the story of the Monkey King and Jin Wang; I found their struggles to be interesting, and their stories to be deep. Danny and Chin-Kee’s story seemed uncharacteristically superficial, however. While all three stories revolve around humiliation and self-shame, the first two cover this a bit more subversively. Danny and Chin-Kee spell this theme out explicitly, and seems to be working on a completely different wavelength from the rest of the text. The end result of this is a text that has a bit of an identity crisis; while there are some parallels from story to story, there are just as many miss-hits from one text to the other. The third story just does not seem to have the same intended audience as the first two. Since I am unfamiliar with this author and his other work, I don’t know whether this “identiy crisis” in terms of structure is meant to reflect the identity crisis of the characters within, or if it is just rough construction. I hope for the former.
I found the culmination of the stories fitting together to be a bit clumsy as well. The progression of Danny’s character is not authentic, but none of that plot-line is very authentic. Jin’s transformation into Danny is sad and believable, but his interaction with the Monkey King seems a stretch. The Monkey King’s transfer into Western culture and the Nativity is a very interesting kink in the plot, but his return to Monkey world and his conversation with his son as an emissary just seems to serve the purpose of connecting dots.
All in all, I did end up enjoying this text even in spite of the pieces that I don’t like about its triple narrative structure. I grew up reading comic books, and am very familiar with this genre of literature. For this reason, it was refreshing to read this text, and to see that this form of literature is finally being viewed as legitimate literature. What struck me as being most memorable about this text is the overarching feelings of self-shame that many of the characters share. It will be interesting to pay attention to other pieces of multicultural literature to see if this theme is present… I have read plenty of pieces from a wide variety of cultural experiences, and have not noticed this theme and feeling so pervasive in other texts – though Amy Tan’s Fish Cheeks does sing this same tune. That short story almost brings me to tears every time I read it. It is heartbreaking to think of a young person like Jin Wang being so ashamed of his own person, heritage, and culture. If nothing else, this text has made me more attentive to this theme as it is presented in literature, and will no doubt help sharpen my skills in reading literature through a multicultural lens.
· Why are teachers so often portrayed as bumbling idiots in many of the texts that we’re reading?
My initial impression of this text was not entirely enthusiastic. The plot lines did not engage me right from the start. However, I soon found myself caring about what was happening with two of the characters in his journey of self-discovery. Throughout the middle, I really enjoyed the story of the Monkey King and Jin Wang; I found their struggles to be interesting, and their stories to be deep. Danny and Chin-Kee’s story seemed uncharacteristically superficial, however. While all three stories revolve around humiliation and self-shame, the first two cover this a bit more subversively. Danny and Chin-Kee spell this theme out explicitly, and seems to be working on a completely different wavelength from the rest of the text. The end result of this is a text that has a bit of an identity crisis; while there are some parallels from story to story, there are just as many miss-hits from one text to the other. The third story just does not seem to have the same intended audience as the first two. Since I am unfamiliar with this author and his other work, I don’t know whether this “identiy crisis” in terms of structure is meant to reflect the identity crisis of the characters within, or if it is just rough construction. I hope for the former.
I found the culmination of the stories fitting together to be a bit clumsy as well. The progression of Danny’s character is not authentic, but none of that plot-line is very authentic. Jin’s transformation into Danny is sad and believable, but his interaction with the Monkey King seems a stretch. The Monkey King’s transfer into Western culture and the Nativity is a very interesting kink in the plot, but his return to Monkey world and his conversation with his son as an emissary just seems to serve the purpose of connecting dots.
All in all, I did end up enjoying this text even in spite of the pieces that I don’t like about its triple narrative structure. I grew up reading comic books, and am very familiar with this genre of literature. For this reason, it was refreshing to read this text, and to see that this form of literature is finally being viewed as legitimate literature. What struck me as being most memorable about this text is the overarching feelings of self-shame that many of the characters share. It will be interesting to pay attention to other pieces of multicultural literature to see if this theme is present… I have read plenty of pieces from a wide variety of cultural experiences, and have not noticed this theme and feeling so pervasive in other texts – though Amy Tan’s Fish Cheeks does sing this same tune. That short story almost brings me to tears every time I read it. It is heartbreaking to think of a young person like Jin Wang being so ashamed of his own person, heritage, and culture. If nothing else, this text has made me more attentive to this theme as it is presented in literature, and will no doubt help sharpen my skills in reading literature through a multicultural lens.
Speak Reflections
Speak, by Laurie Halse Anderson, came highly recommended to me by another teacher in my building who works with struggling readers, as well as by a few of my former students. This text was indeed very engaging, and left me often wanting to read more. However, I found that there were pieces of this text that I strongly disliked along with aspects that I found to be fantastic.
To start with what I enjoyed about the text, I think that Anderson deals with the themes of vulnerability and loss of innocence very well. The confusion that Melinda feels after being raped, and the intense mental anguish and trauma that she suffers as a result of her attack, are poignant and well written. I found Melinda to be very authentic in this way – her emotional distress and withdrawn nature show the depth of how damaged she is because of her being raped. For the majority of the text, Melinda is completely withdrawn, finding herself unable to communicate herself with anyone outside of herself. We the reader are privy to her inner-monologue however, and find that at the beginning, she is not even fully open to herself. With time, and some healing, we learn much, and Melinda finds the ability to communicate more and more.
I also enjoyed Melinda’s journey of healing. In the end, when she is in the hospital (was it to get her lips stitched?) and notices the many very sick people without hope of healing, Melinda recognizes that she at least has the hope of healing from her wounds. This brings new light to her perspective, and allows the reader to see significant growth in her character.
One last quality that I really liked about Speak is its literary quality. I like the structure of the text, from one-sentence paragraphs that paralles Melinda’s feelings of isolation, to the symbolism of her sewn lips and inability to communicate. Melinda also names her art pieces the “confused period,” “spaz period,” and “dead period” to mirror her own experience. I love how Anderson played around with these details, and I find that such purposeful attention to detail in her writing makes this book appealing to a wider audience base. Students Melinda’s age can read this and engage with her character’s struggles, and a more mature reader can analyze how the text structure emphasizes what is happening in Melinda’s life.
On the other hand, there were things that drove me crazy about this text. I felt overwhelmed with teenage angst and emotion when reading this text. Yes, this is part of what makes this an authentic narrative, considering who the narrator is and what she has gone through. Still, I did not enjoy reading from her perspective. Much like Holden Caulfield annoyed the piss out of me with his “everything sucks and everyone’s a phony” attitude, Melinda’s nearly thorough misery is tiresome.
Related to this, another detail the bugged me was the art teacher. I found his character to be arrogant (in his complete disregard for his peers and superiors) an unprofessional (should not be counseling students in his Volvo – there’s a song by the Police about this same subject), and I simply did not like him. I could not take him seriously as a mentor in this text. I also found it tough to accept the resignation that the rest of the faculty seem to have with their profession – though I do recognize that we see the professionalism of these teachers through the vision of an anguished teenage girl.
To start with what I enjoyed about the text, I think that Anderson deals with the themes of vulnerability and loss of innocence very well. The confusion that Melinda feels after being raped, and the intense mental anguish and trauma that she suffers as a result of her attack, are poignant and well written. I found Melinda to be very authentic in this way – her emotional distress and withdrawn nature show the depth of how damaged she is because of her being raped. For the majority of the text, Melinda is completely withdrawn, finding herself unable to communicate herself with anyone outside of herself. We the reader are privy to her inner-monologue however, and find that at the beginning, she is not even fully open to herself. With time, and some healing, we learn much, and Melinda finds the ability to communicate more and more.
I also enjoyed Melinda’s journey of healing. In the end, when she is in the hospital (was it to get her lips stitched?) and notices the many very sick people without hope of healing, Melinda recognizes that she at least has the hope of healing from her wounds. This brings new light to her perspective, and allows the reader to see significant growth in her character.
One last quality that I really liked about Speak is its literary quality. I like the structure of the text, from one-sentence paragraphs that paralles Melinda’s feelings of isolation, to the symbolism of her sewn lips and inability to communicate. Melinda also names her art pieces the “confused period,” “spaz period,” and “dead period” to mirror her own experience. I love how Anderson played around with these details, and I find that such purposeful attention to detail in her writing makes this book appealing to a wider audience base. Students Melinda’s age can read this and engage with her character’s struggles, and a more mature reader can analyze how the text structure emphasizes what is happening in Melinda’s life.
On the other hand, there were things that drove me crazy about this text. I felt overwhelmed with teenage angst and emotion when reading this text. Yes, this is part of what makes this an authentic narrative, considering who the narrator is and what she has gone through. Still, I did not enjoy reading from her perspective. Much like Holden Caulfield annoyed the piss out of me with his “everything sucks and everyone’s a phony” attitude, Melinda’s nearly thorough misery is tiresome.
Related to this, another detail the bugged me was the art teacher. I found his character to be arrogant (in his complete disregard for his peers and superiors) an unprofessional (should not be counseling students in his Volvo – there’s a song by the Police about this same subject), and I simply did not like him. I could not take him seriously as a mentor in this text. I also found it tough to accept the resignation that the rest of the faculty seem to have with their profession – though I do recognize that we see the professionalism of these teachers through the vision of an anguished teenage girl.
Luna Reflections
The first time I heard of the text Luna was at a workshop I attended last year. The workshop was titled something like “Books for Reluctant Readers,” and a small handful of Special Ed and English teachers from my high school attended with our media specialist. We had the idea that the workshop would be for teachers and media specialists, but we were very wrong. For eight hours, we covered synopses of titles from various genres, and discussed which audiences the titles appealed to. We were some of the only teachers in a sea of media personnel. Still, there were some highlights, and I did learn some new things.
Luna was presented as one of a small handful of texts within the GBLT genre of teen lit, and those who reviewed it could not stop singing its praises. We the audience were advised that if we were to read one book about GBLT issues, then this should be the one. The book was lauded for its treatment of gender identity, as well as for its narrative qualities.
At a glance, it is easy to mistake this text as being about Luna when in fact it is Reagan’s story. As much as Luna is a primary focus throughout the narrative, Liam’s “transition” to becoming comfortable as Luna serves as the catalyst for Reagan’s transition and journey to take place. In the beginning of the text, Reagan is accustomed to hiding Luna, and keeping secrets safe from parents. Though she is very sensitive and supportive of her brother/sister, she also sometimes wishes for a “normal” life, and a chance to find out who she really is. Her living in support of Luna and protecting Liam is consuming, and leaves little opportunity for Reagan to live her own life. In recent years, I have shown the film “Simon Birch” to teach elements of the Hero’s Journey, and the concept of a “catalyst hero” as a part of our unit on archetypes. Luna follows a similar pattern, and could certainly be a text that students could explore to better understand catalyst heroes. In this case, Luna and her journey of self-discovery is the catalyst for Reagan’s own journey.
While I enjoy Reagan and the chance to see this text through her experience, I am a bit curious of the author’s purpose in structuring this narrative in this fashion. Knowing that choices like these are always purposeful in thoughtful literature, it would be interesting to read a bit from the author about choices. My initial thought is that this book serves in part to offer a perspective on the transgendered issues (why does the politically correct term for so many subjects always seem to have the word ‘issues’ attached to it?) to a primarily straight audience, and Reagan’s perspective may help many readers more closely identify with her perspective. As I think about this question further, I am not convinced I have any real idea.
On a somewhat unrelated note, why, how, and when did baseball get the bad wrap of being the patron sport of homophobic fathers in denial? Is this due to the stereotype of boys playing catch in the backyard surrounded by a white picket fence with dad being part of the “American ideal?” This detail seemed uncharacteristically stereotyped in this text.
Luna was presented as one of a small handful of texts within the GBLT genre of teen lit, and those who reviewed it could not stop singing its praises. We the audience were advised that if we were to read one book about GBLT issues, then this should be the one. The book was lauded for its treatment of gender identity, as well as for its narrative qualities.
At a glance, it is easy to mistake this text as being about Luna when in fact it is Reagan’s story. As much as Luna is a primary focus throughout the narrative, Liam’s “transition” to becoming comfortable as Luna serves as the catalyst for Reagan’s transition and journey to take place. In the beginning of the text, Reagan is accustomed to hiding Luna, and keeping secrets safe from parents. Though she is very sensitive and supportive of her brother/sister, she also sometimes wishes for a “normal” life, and a chance to find out who she really is. Her living in support of Luna and protecting Liam is consuming, and leaves little opportunity for Reagan to live her own life. In recent years, I have shown the film “Simon Birch” to teach elements of the Hero’s Journey, and the concept of a “catalyst hero” as a part of our unit on archetypes. Luna follows a similar pattern, and could certainly be a text that students could explore to better understand catalyst heroes. In this case, Luna and her journey of self-discovery is the catalyst for Reagan’s own journey.
While I enjoy Reagan and the chance to see this text through her experience, I am a bit curious of the author’s purpose in structuring this narrative in this fashion. Knowing that choices like these are always purposeful in thoughtful literature, it would be interesting to read a bit from the author about choices. My initial thought is that this book serves in part to offer a perspective on the transgendered issues (why does the politically correct term for so many subjects always seem to have the word ‘issues’ attached to it?) to a primarily straight audience, and Reagan’s perspective may help many readers more closely identify with her perspective. As I think about this question further, I am not convinced I have any real idea.
On a somewhat unrelated note, why, how, and when did baseball get the bad wrap of being the patron sport of homophobic fathers in denial? Is this due to the stereotype of boys playing catch in the backyard surrounded by a white picket fence with dad being part of the “American ideal?” This detail seemed uncharacteristically stereotyped in this text.
Monday, November 30, 2009
A Long Way Gone - reflections
From a purely technical perspective, there is little about Beah’s text, A Long Way Gone that is remarkable. At times his writing is lacking in what I have come to take for granted in literature – his prose is not “beautiful,” and the focus on some details seems unbalanced or irrelevant. However, I have found in life that it is a huge mistake to view anything from one perspective – especially one that is so… technical. Beah’s text is powerful, moving, and beautiful while horrifically ugly at the same time – and not for any outstanding gift of poetics.
I am glad to know that A Long Way Gone has received the attention and credit that it has. Though I am sure that there will be plenty of critics that focus on the writing rather than what is being told to them, it does not change the fact that Beah relates an absolutely remarkable experience. It is difficult for me to imagine, with my lack of any similar experience, the horror and trauma that is felt by countless people across the world that are affected by civil wars, genocide, slavery (in its various forms), and loss of home/family. The closest that I am able to come to understand this is through texts like Beah’s. When reading this text, a reader has no choice but come face to face with the reality of what has largely been conveniently ignored by most of our western society. In day-to-day life, it is altogether too easy to ignore what is ugly in the world, and focus instead on how the Vikings are playing or what’s for supper. Still, if this ugliness is not acknowledged and addressed, it puts us at risk to suffer similar fates. Beah’s text should serve not only as information that is relevant for our political leaders who address foreign policy, but for “average” citizens of nations across the world.
I knew a bit about the human trafficking in Western Africa and the problem with children soldiers in that part of the world as well, but did not understand nearly as much as I thought that I had. Beah’s vivid descriptions of the atrocities committed are troubling, but what is even more difficult to read is the effect that those experiences have on those involved. On page100, Beah recounts this very well: “my eyes caught the smashed head of another man. Something inside his brain was still pulsating and he was breathing. I felt nauseated… One of the soldiers was looking at me, chewing something and smiling… ‘You will get used to it, everybody does eventually,’ he said.” Not only does this kind of violence desensitize the individuals involved after prolonged exposure, it leaves a profound scar as well. We see this after Beah is taken by UNICEF to the hospital; he is not the same person that he once had been, and it requires intensive therapy for him to realize the truth in the statement “It is not your fault” (160).
Coincidentally, this genre and this book came up while I was preparing and teaching a lesson on human trafficking to supplement my final discussion on Kindred. My goals in the unit were to discuss the relevance of teaching and learning about slavery and racism from the 19th century with a modern audience. We also incorporated author intent in using a modern protagonist to explore this theme – it went well. In future years, I think I might go deeper with slavery in this unit, and explore the possibility of using additional texts beyond periodicals to discuss parallels with Kindred. A Long Way Gone would be a powerful book for students to read. I will recommend this text to any student who is interested in learning about global issues, and possibly offer this as a (optional) supplemental text to go along with Kindred next ye
I am glad to know that A Long Way Gone has received the attention and credit that it has. Though I am sure that there will be plenty of critics that focus on the writing rather than what is being told to them, it does not change the fact that Beah relates an absolutely remarkable experience. It is difficult for me to imagine, with my lack of any similar experience, the horror and trauma that is felt by countless people across the world that are affected by civil wars, genocide, slavery (in its various forms), and loss of home/family. The closest that I am able to come to understand this is through texts like Beah’s. When reading this text, a reader has no choice but come face to face with the reality of what has largely been conveniently ignored by most of our western society. In day-to-day life, it is altogether too easy to ignore what is ugly in the world, and focus instead on how the Vikings are playing or what’s for supper. Still, if this ugliness is not acknowledged and addressed, it puts us at risk to suffer similar fates. Beah’s text should serve not only as information that is relevant for our political leaders who address foreign policy, but for “average” citizens of nations across the world.
I knew a bit about the human trafficking in Western Africa and the problem with children soldiers in that part of the world as well, but did not understand nearly as much as I thought that I had. Beah’s vivid descriptions of the atrocities committed are troubling, but what is even more difficult to read is the effect that those experiences have on those involved. On page100, Beah recounts this very well: “my eyes caught the smashed head of another man. Something inside his brain was still pulsating and he was breathing. I felt nauseated… One of the soldiers was looking at me, chewing something and smiling… ‘You will get used to it, everybody does eventually,’ he said.” Not only does this kind of violence desensitize the individuals involved after prolonged exposure, it leaves a profound scar as well. We see this after Beah is taken by UNICEF to the hospital; he is not the same person that he once had been, and it requires intensive therapy for him to realize the truth in the statement “It is not your fault” (160).
Coincidentally, this genre and this book came up while I was preparing and teaching a lesson on human trafficking to supplement my final discussion on Kindred. My goals in the unit were to discuss the relevance of teaching and learning about slavery and racism from the 19th century with a modern audience. We also incorporated author intent in using a modern protagonist to explore this theme – it went well. In future years, I think I might go deeper with slavery in this unit, and explore the possibility of using additional texts beyond periodicals to discuss parallels with Kindred. A Long Way Gone would be a powerful book for students to read. I will recommend this text to any student who is interested in learning about global issues, and possibly offer this as a (optional) supplemental text to go along with Kindred next ye
The Circuit - reflections
I really liked The Circuit. I enjoyed this text because it was very simple, yet communicated very complex feelings and emotions about the author’s experience as an immigrant, as an “other,” as a child, and as a sibling. One of the things I noticed again and again is how much this text spoke to me and my own experience in life, even though the experiences and memories themselves are so vastly different.
Jimenez creates a very careful balance between extraordinary life experiences and universal understandings of family, pride, and home. I have never experienced the difficulty and tribulation that Jimenez went through with his family… but I have felt excluded at times for reasons beyond my control; I have seen the expression my mother wears when she feels that she has somehow disappointed us, and I know how painful that is to see. The chapter titled “Christmas Gift” spoke to me in a special way because of this. Additionally, “Soledad” brought me back to a very specific memory of my childhood as well. I once tried to surprise my parents by cleaning the kitchen – I must have been four at the time. My parents were getting ready to have company over, as I recall, and were very busy straightening the house up. Wanting to help, I brought out the mop and got to work on the floors, doing the best job I knew how to do. I don’t recall where I learned how to mop floors, but I apparently was doing it wrong. Ultimately, I got yelled at and sent to my room. I remember hiding my face in my pillow, thinking of how unfair it was that I was being punished for helping in the best way I knew how. In “Soledad,” Francisco works tirelessly all day picking cotton in hopes to impress his parents, in hope that he will someday be able to go with them to work to help the family. When his family comes home, his parents are upset that he forsook his job of watching the younger sibling, and his father becomes angrier still when he finds out that Francisco included dirt clods in his pile of picked cotton. Francisco has not yet learned lessons on honesty and integrity, and does not know where he has gone wrong. Francisco describes himself as being timid, hurt, and confused. I felt the same exact way.
Another reason that I enjoyed this text is for its ability to work as a comprehensive narrative, and for a collection of stand-alone narratives broken up into chapters. Each chapter seems to have its own unique reflection and theme, though they all tie into the larger whole.
Still another reason that I enjoyed reading this text is because there always seemed to be a silver lining to the hardships endured, even though at some times that glimmer of hope seemed very bleak and dull. Though the family is constantly moving and facing challenges at every turn, there always seems to be something worth hoping for. Though the memoir ends painfully, with Roberto’s dream job being dashed and Francisco being picked up by border patrol just before reciting the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence, we know by reading the book jacket that the author learned and developed from his tough experiences as a child, and took advantage of opportunities afforded to him later in life, eventually immigrating with his family to California, and earning a PhD from Columbia University.
On another note, one of the things that I did not like about this book is the diction. Having graduated with majors in English and Spanish, I have read many texts with the kind of cross-over diction that Jimenez employs, and I have been annoyed by it every single time. I’m not sure why some authors choose to write mostly in one language with a smattering of words in another language as if they fit together naturally. I understand using nicknames in a native tongue in a memoir like this, but it seems to me that Jimenez uses some Spanish words simply for the sake of using Spanish words. Is this meant to make the text more authentic to the reader? If so, I wish Jimenez would trust the authenticity of his memories to stand on their own. If it’s simply a stylistic choice, then I think it’s an ugly one.
Jimenez creates a very careful balance between extraordinary life experiences and universal understandings of family, pride, and home. I have never experienced the difficulty and tribulation that Jimenez went through with his family… but I have felt excluded at times for reasons beyond my control; I have seen the expression my mother wears when she feels that she has somehow disappointed us, and I know how painful that is to see. The chapter titled “Christmas Gift” spoke to me in a special way because of this. Additionally, “Soledad” brought me back to a very specific memory of my childhood as well. I once tried to surprise my parents by cleaning the kitchen – I must have been four at the time. My parents were getting ready to have company over, as I recall, and were very busy straightening the house up. Wanting to help, I brought out the mop and got to work on the floors, doing the best job I knew how to do. I don’t recall where I learned how to mop floors, but I apparently was doing it wrong. Ultimately, I got yelled at and sent to my room. I remember hiding my face in my pillow, thinking of how unfair it was that I was being punished for helping in the best way I knew how. In “Soledad,” Francisco works tirelessly all day picking cotton in hopes to impress his parents, in hope that he will someday be able to go with them to work to help the family. When his family comes home, his parents are upset that he forsook his job of watching the younger sibling, and his father becomes angrier still when he finds out that Francisco included dirt clods in his pile of picked cotton. Francisco has not yet learned lessons on honesty and integrity, and does not know where he has gone wrong. Francisco describes himself as being timid, hurt, and confused. I felt the same exact way.
Another reason that I enjoyed this text is for its ability to work as a comprehensive narrative, and for a collection of stand-alone narratives broken up into chapters. Each chapter seems to have its own unique reflection and theme, though they all tie into the larger whole.
Still another reason that I enjoyed reading this text is because there always seemed to be a silver lining to the hardships endured, even though at some times that glimmer of hope seemed very bleak and dull. Though the family is constantly moving and facing challenges at every turn, there always seems to be something worth hoping for. Though the memoir ends painfully, with Roberto’s dream job being dashed and Francisco being picked up by border patrol just before reciting the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence, we know by reading the book jacket that the author learned and developed from his tough experiences as a child, and took advantage of opportunities afforded to him later in life, eventually immigrating with his family to California, and earning a PhD from Columbia University.
On another note, one of the things that I did not like about this book is the diction. Having graduated with majors in English and Spanish, I have read many texts with the kind of cross-over diction that Jimenez employs, and I have been annoyed by it every single time. I’m not sure why some authors choose to write mostly in one language with a smattering of words in another language as if they fit together naturally. I understand using nicknames in a native tongue in a memoir like this, but it seems to me that Jimenez uses some Spanish words simply for the sake of using Spanish words. Is this meant to make the text more authentic to the reader? If so, I wish Jimenez would trust the authenticity of his memories to stand on their own. If it’s simply a stylistic choice, then I think it’s an ugly one.
Book Review #2 - Until They Bring the Streetcars Back
Until They Bring the Streetcars Back is a novel set in St. Paul in 1949, during the time that the streetcar system in the Twin Cities was scrapped in favor of busses. All of the details of the sporting events included in the book, as well as all details surrounding the streetcar system are historically accurate. Beyond these details, the novel is entirely fictional.
Cal, the hero of the text, goes on a journey of self-discovery to find that “love is a choice we make, not a feeling, or something that happens to us.” This theme is carefully shown through three separate yet connected conflict lines throughout the text; Cal chooses to show compassion for three victims who are unable to defend themselves, while the stakes and personal risk grow exponentially with each. In the beginning of the text, Cal is primarily concerned with himself and issues that deal with him directly. A careful reader will be able to recognize this when he becomes annoyed at Gretchen (the helpless girl he later saves) after she makes a plea for help that lands Cal in trouble and results in his missing football practice. At this point, Cal is incapable of empathizing with the tortured girl, and is only concerned with the trouble that he has landed in. Another example of this that occurs shortly later is when Cal comes home to find his dad in a foul mood during dinner. Nervous that his father has found out about trouble he is getting in at school, Cal is relieved when his father explains that the reason for his foul mood is that he is losing his job as a streetcar operator. Cal’s feeling of relief serves again as an indicator that Cal is selfish and incapable of empathizing. However, the more that Cal becomes involved in Gretchen’s life, the more he comes to realize the importance of love and compassion for others.
By the text’s end, Cal cares more for his family and his friends, and is becomes aware of the sometimes great divide between appearances and reality; he finds that character is more important than image, and learns who his “real” friends are after experiencing severe trials and tribulations. In all, I very much enjoyed the content of this text. The themes (love, appearance vs. reality, integrity, etc) are very relevant for an adolescent audience, and are still very engaging for an adult reader as well. The plot is interesting; the setting is vivid and descriptive. The conflict is engaging, and gives a “I want to find out what happens next” feeling at many points; I cared about Cal and (most of) his friends and family while reading this text.
Though I do enjoy much of this text, there is one detail in quality that bugs me… a lot. The female characters that West creates are very flat and unconvincing, especially Gretchen and Lola (Cal’s romantic interest). Lola’s character is very underdeveloped –more of a caricature of a popular, self-concerned teenage girl than a real character. Still, it is Gretchen’s character that is the novel’s glaring weakness. She is completely helpless, one-hundred percent dependent on Cal for survival and redemption. She often makes remarks like “I hope I don’t go crazy,” which I find very inauthentic. In the end of the novel, after suffering a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse from her father, and suffering the trauma of being forced to drown her own baby, Gretchen’s mental and physical health are completely restored when her father is sentenced to a lifetime of prison. Cal’s courageous action heals her completely. She also gets a boyfriend and transforms from an ugly, beaten down “wretch” to a confident and attractive woman – all because of Cal.
Another aspect of this text which does not work for me is that Cal’s sacrifice is cheapened in the end when Sandy tells Cal that the newspaper has printed a front page article which completely exonerates Cal. In the end, his reputation is saved, and everything that he had risked for helping Gretchen has been restored. Sacrifice, one of the principal archetypal qualities of a hero – is neglected for the sake of a “happy ending.” As a result, this novel is not nearly as memorable as it could be.
Cal, the hero of the text, goes on a journey of self-discovery to find that “love is a choice we make, not a feeling, or something that happens to us.” This theme is carefully shown through three separate yet connected conflict lines throughout the text; Cal chooses to show compassion for three victims who are unable to defend themselves, while the stakes and personal risk grow exponentially with each. In the beginning of the text, Cal is primarily concerned with himself and issues that deal with him directly. A careful reader will be able to recognize this when he becomes annoyed at Gretchen (the helpless girl he later saves) after she makes a plea for help that lands Cal in trouble and results in his missing football practice. At this point, Cal is incapable of empathizing with the tortured girl, and is only concerned with the trouble that he has landed in. Another example of this that occurs shortly later is when Cal comes home to find his dad in a foul mood during dinner. Nervous that his father has found out about trouble he is getting in at school, Cal is relieved when his father explains that the reason for his foul mood is that he is losing his job as a streetcar operator. Cal’s feeling of relief serves again as an indicator that Cal is selfish and incapable of empathizing. However, the more that Cal becomes involved in Gretchen’s life, the more he comes to realize the importance of love and compassion for others.
By the text’s end, Cal cares more for his family and his friends, and is becomes aware of the sometimes great divide between appearances and reality; he finds that character is more important than image, and learns who his “real” friends are after experiencing severe trials and tribulations. In all, I very much enjoyed the content of this text. The themes (love, appearance vs. reality, integrity, etc) are very relevant for an adolescent audience, and are still very engaging for an adult reader as well. The plot is interesting; the setting is vivid and descriptive. The conflict is engaging, and gives a “I want to find out what happens next” feeling at many points; I cared about Cal and (most of) his friends and family while reading this text.
Though I do enjoy much of this text, there is one detail in quality that bugs me… a lot. The female characters that West creates are very flat and unconvincing, especially Gretchen and Lola (Cal’s romantic interest). Lola’s character is very underdeveloped –more of a caricature of a popular, self-concerned teenage girl than a real character. Still, it is Gretchen’s character that is the novel’s glaring weakness. She is completely helpless, one-hundred percent dependent on Cal for survival and redemption. She often makes remarks like “I hope I don’t go crazy,” which I find very inauthentic. In the end of the novel, after suffering a lifetime of sexual and physical abuse from her father, and suffering the trauma of being forced to drown her own baby, Gretchen’s mental and physical health are completely restored when her father is sentenced to a lifetime of prison. Cal’s courageous action heals her completely. She also gets a boyfriend and transforms from an ugly, beaten down “wretch” to a confident and attractive woman – all because of Cal.
Another aspect of this text which does not work for me is that Cal’s sacrifice is cheapened in the end when Sandy tells Cal that the newspaper has printed a front page article which completely exonerates Cal. In the end, his reputation is saved, and everything that he had risked for helping Gretchen has been restored. Sacrifice, one of the principal archetypal qualities of a hero – is neglected for the sake of a “happy ending.” As a result, this novel is not nearly as memorable as it could be.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)