Friday, October 29, 2010

Very short post on Imagination land

I've always been curious about this since it's different for everyone, but I wanted to pose the question anyway:

How do you read?

Ok so that wasn't a very clear question, what I mean is how do you bring characters and events to life as you're reading a book with no pictures? For me I can describe the process as I'm playing that scene or that character's conversation in the space behind my eyelids (possibly my brain). One would wonder though how I can pay attention to moving pictures while simultaneously reading letter (R - L or L - R) across a page? I don't know. It's a myestery. So I ask again, how do you read?

Also, say a character is introduced into the book with a minimalistic description (gender or skin color). Do you impose a certain race or other descriptive qualities to the character? For example, I'm currently reading the middle book, Linger, in Maggie Stiefvater's Werewolf Sam & grace trilogy (preceded by Shiver). While the main character, Sam, has been described with moppy dark hair and golden eyes my mind immediately pictured him and Grace to be a matched pair of blondes and this is how they stayed.

Image courtesy of arockridgelife.wordpress.com
While some authors take time to introduce a character's attributes and description, some authors such as When you Reach Me 's Rebecca Stead and Virginia Euwer Wolff's Make Lemondae Trilogy only provide one attribute, such as skin color, or none at all to be purposefully ambiguous. As a result, readers may try to "place a race" on the character, either for imagination or for curiousity's sake. I know I've read that Wolff purposely left her main character's race to be ambiguous because she didn't want it to control the transformation of her character (minority rags to riches story, if that makes sense). Readers made inferences anyway based on such details in the book as geographic location, dialect, etc. How do you feel about this practice in young adult and children's books? Does assigning a race to a character ultimately bring up particular stereotypes embedded in the reader's brain, much as my mind takes control over how a character physically appears despite what the author writes?

In the School Library Journal blog, I found an article entited, "When You Reach Me: The Race Card" that touches more on this subject:

"JULIA’S AMBIGUOUS RACIAL IDENTY

Julia’s skin color is described, but she’s never labeled racially or ethnically. She could be African American, but she could be Indian or Asian, too. Or biracial. As I mentioned earlier, it’s a similar technique employed by Virginia Euwer Wolf in the MAKE LEMONADE trilogy. It allows the reader to impose an ethnicity or racial identity on the character. We would generally recognize this as a strength, but there’s also a trade-off. Isn’t there also a generic quality to the character? One writer told me that, for example, when you set a book in the South, everybody knows that it’s hot and humid. What she looks for are the details in the setting that reveal a native understanding of the region. What are the details that would escape the notice of the casual visitor? Apply this to Julia’s characterization. She’s universal, but not very specific. Again, this is not a weakness of the book, generally speaking or in terms of the Newbery criteria, but it still left me wishing for those extra skillfully woven details. Another slight note of dissatisfaction."

I guess a point to take away from this discussion is that steroetypes have the ability to be changed or destroyed. So if we're dealing in the realm of fiction and not fantasy (where races are optional and as changeable as a pair of jeans), perhaps we can take comfort in this fact that even the reader's stereotypes of particular characters can be changed through reading books such as Stead's and Wollf's.


Wednesday, October 20, 2010

In the fictionalized world of Jane Austen

I've developed a Jane Austen fictionization (fixation + fiction) ever since I rewatched "Becoming Jane" with my roommate. This was exacerbated by my discovery of Just Jane: a Novel of Jane Austen's Life by Nancy Moser. This fictionalized account is one of Moser's many fictionalized biographies of historical women. The book picks up after Austen's disastrous romance with Tom Lefroy (those of you who have seen "Becoming Jane" will be brought up to speed). If you're more interested in that portion of Austen's life (and at some parts of this book, I certainly was,) I would bypass Moser altogether. If you're more interested in hearing how Austen used her life experience to become a world famous writer, then I highly recommend you pick this up. While Moser does her research well to accurately portray events in Austen's life, the majority of the book is inflated with fictionalized accounts connecting events and people described in letters and other accounts of Austen's life. The story could even be read in a series of vignettes concerning events (boring and riveting) that make up the life of Jane Austen including engagements, death, illness, social visits, and relocating all over England. The plight of Austen throughout this novel is her conflict with rising above society's expectations for her to marry and bear children in order to be less of a burden to her family in order to become a pubished author. Jane often becomes bored with the monotony of her life and the only time she is happy is when she's writing or discussing her writing with friends. If you're not familiar with Jane Austen's novels this will not hinder your understanding of Just Jane.

Some downsides to the vignettes are that while some are invigorating, others drag, and the time jumps are only reflected by Jane remarking about how much older she has become. The way the book is written, the events seems as if they could be happening within a span of a few weeks. But the reader must remember how often letters took to arrive anywhere considering the mode of transportation at the time (horse, carriage, or foot). The upside is learning about Austen's thought and writing process and her difficulties with finding inspiration. The writing comes off very solid for a fictionalization. Jane Austen's voice remains true though I did catch some instances of modern slang.

On the whole, I give it a rating of 3 out of 5. I definitely will be gifting this to a friend of mine who I know would enjoy it. Reading this has also made me want to pick up "Emma" as I'm already familiar with Pride and Prejudice and Sense and Sensibility.

Review: http://www.curledup.com/justjane.htm

Monday, October 18, 2010

Conclusion to the Vampire Saga: Vampires are Stalkers

I now present to you the last book I wrote about for my Young Adult Literature class back in the Summer of 2009. I began these posts back in August of 2010 and covered the various adolscent paradigms represented within young adult vampire literature (that ISN'T Twilight) published between 1991 and 1997. I'll relist them here.

Anderson, M. T. Thirsty. United States: Candlewick Press, 1997.

Atwater-Rhodes, Amelia. Shattered Mirror. New York: Delacorte Press, 2001.

Hauptman, Pete. Sweetblood. New York: Simon Pulse, 2003.

Marrona, Amanda. Uninvited. New York: Simon Pulse, 2007.

Rees, Douglas.Vampire High. New York: Delacorte Press, 2003.

Smith, L. J. The Vampire Diaries: The Awakening. New York:  Harcourt Press, 1991.

Of these titles, Smith's The Vampire Diaries, Atwater-Rhodes, and Rees have continuing books or have created a series around the books. The Vampire Diaries wins hands down for being the most popular series and most promoted within streams of social media. This is amplified and aided by the revamp (ouch) of the series due to fan demand, in which L. J. created another trilogy of books called "The Return". From this stemmed the TV show, "The Vampire Diaries" which is currently in its second season. By far these aren't the worst titles you can find amongst vampire young adult literature today and they all make valid points about the mythology that are both varied and unique. Throw in  a few psychological aspects such as vampirism as an allegory for adolescence and puberty, and you have a way for teens to relate to the material. I hope that you add these to your reading lists or recommend more vampire literature novels that teens (or myself) might like. I leave you, just a week or so before Halloween, with the final installment of the paper, Uninvited, which tells the story of Jordan and her recently dead boyfriend, Michael Green, who begins to exude stalker-like tendencies from beyond the grave.

                          Marrone, Amanda. Uninvited. New York:  Simon Pulse, 2007.

Jordan’s boyfriend Michael Green is the greatest thing to ever happen to her. The most popular new boy in school not only relieves her social anxiety, but also makes her feel that she matters and is loved. Unfortunately, the prospect of facing the entire student body with Michael on her arm is too much pressure for Jordan to handle, and she breaks up with him. Shortly thereafter, Michael Green is found dead and is rumored to have committed suicide. As Jordan copes with this loss through alcohol and drugs, Michael begins appearing at her bedroom window every night begging to be let in so they can be reunited. As his visits become more frequent and intense Jordan begins to suspect that her ex-boyfriend is not dead, but undead.
Uninvited is the best example of the renegotiation of power developmental task. Michael’s visits demonstrate immense power over Jordan by confining her to her bedroom. Readers should recognize the signs of stalking and abuse through Michael’s behavior: keeping Jordan constantly afraid to see her friends, meet new people, or venture out after sunset. At first, instead of confronting Michael, Jordan abuses drugs and alcohol as a means of denial and escape. However, Marrone highlights Jordan’s small victories like keeping Michael outside her window and emphasizes her transformation from victim to heroine when Michael threatens her best friend, Lisa. Ultimately, Jordan is a flawed yet appealing protagonist since she overcomes Michael’s controlling behavior, becomes sober, creates healthy relationships, and moves on.

In Uninvited, vampirism is a metaphor for suicide as well as avoiding conflicts. Both Jordan and her friend Lisa consider using vampirism to escape their problems: Jordan’s lack of self-esteem and parental guidance via absent parents and Lisa’s diagnosis of lupus. Because of the various references to unsafe sex, drug and alcohol abuse, attempted suicide, and other serious issues this book is appropriate for high school readers.



Friday, October 15, 2010

Vampires in High School Part V: Vampires are Closet Diabetics

Since I do want to try and wrap up this review of YA vampire literature in time for Halloween I'll go ahead and shuffle on in a zombie like fashion onto the fifth book of my paper, Pete Hauptman's Sweetblood. Fang you for your patience.

Hauptman, Pete. Sweetblood. New York: Simon Pulse, 2003.

16-year-old Lucinda Szabo has several identities: she is neither Goth, nor punk, but something. To her parents and teachers she is Lucy, to her friend Matt she is Skeeter, and to the online Transylvania chat room she frequently roams looking for “real” vampires she is known as Sweetblood. The catalyst of Lucy’s search for “a real vampire” is a paper she writes for class explaining her theory that vampires are actually diabetics suffering from a dangerous lack of insulin. As her search progresses, Lucy becomes less focused on school and her diabetes and more focused on exploring the vampire culture in her neighborhood which is filled with geographical references to Dracula: Seward High, Harker College, and Carfax Apartments.

Sweetblood is appropriate for middle and high school readers as there is very little sexuality but some instances of underage drinking. The presence of vampires here is more metaphorical and theoretical than fantastical. Outside the Transylvania chat room Lucy meets Wayne, who enjoys the guise of a vampire but does not believe they exist. Several of Lucy’s friends also participate in the goth culture but the book never reveals anyone to be a vampire.

Teens will relate to Lucy’s character who is not only trying to establish an identity for herself. Her screen name is significant because it defines her fascination with vampires and her diabetes, both important aspects of her identity. Lucy is a relatable character because she makes very immature decisions throughout the book that endanger her health and have serious consequences. In addition, Lucy’s rebellious attitude towards concerned adult figures such as her teachers, parents, and psychologist is readily identifiable to young adults. Hauptman’s metaphor for learning and growing during adolescence is portrayed through a monarch butterfly chrysalis which is given to Lucy her love interest, Dylan. Sweetblood is very character driven and relies on the interactions between the characters to show that Lucy is not alone as she believes she is.