Book 'em

Last time I checked we stopped burning (or drowning or crucifying) witches hundreds of years ago. And yet some people would like to ban (even burn as some churches have done) books that feature witches or magic of any kind. They fear the words will corrupt children, make them want to cavort in Satan's playground.

STREGA NONA? Really? I'm stunned that someone challenged the right of Tomie dePaola's Caldecott Award winner to be in a library. But they did.

This delightfully-illustrated book tells of a boy who disobeys his employer, an old lady with a magic cooking pot. He tries her spell when she isn't home and covers the town in pasta. It's funny. It teaches a lesson about showing off, disregarding warnings and not being respectful. I seriously doubt it would lure any kid into the dark side, for heaven's sake.

This is Banned Book Week, the annual event hosted by the American Library Association to highlight books that have been attacked, that someone has tried to remove from a school or public library because the books don't fit their world view.

Like STREGA NONA, J.K. Rowling's HARRY POTTER series, Katherine Paterson's BRIDGE TO TERABITHIA and Roald Dahl's THE WITCHES have been challenged for occult themes. The Potter books were burned by churches in New Mexico and Michigan, with congregations in Iowa and Maine only stopped by fire departments.

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Among authors who speak out against book bans are the venerable Ray Bradbury, whose anti-censorship novel FAHRENHEIT 451 is frequently challenged; Judy Blume, whose ground-breaking children's books are targeted because they address such real life issues as racism, bullying and sex; and Laurie Halse Anderson, who recently sounded the alarm against a professor in Missouri who tried to get SPEAK taken out of schools. It's what Wesley Scroggins said about that book that made me sick to my stomach for a week.

He called the novel about date rape "soft porn" in a newspaper op-ed piece. I've read that book. There's nothing remotely pornographic about the tastefully-written, painful account of what happens to a rape victim and her slow road back to emotional recovery. Anderson has received thousands of thank-you notes from kids who found help dealing with their own trauma. While Anderson gave rape victims hope, Mr. Scroggins victimized them again with his words. I feel I have the right to say that since I am one of those victims.

The reasons given for challenging books can be anything from religion and politics to language and sexual content. The question is do you want somebody else deciding for you what's acceptable to read? If you have never checked out ALA's list of frequently challenged books by decades, please click the link above. I think you will be astounded at how many extraordinary, important, thought-provoking books are on the lists. Read them. Talk about them. Don't let someone's narrow world-view put blinders on you.

You can also check out my previous posts about other banned books: THIRTEEN REASONS WHY, TWISTED, LOOKING FOR ALASKA, FEED, JULIE OF THE WOLVES, THE HANDMAID'S TALE.

Books that walk the real dark side

When I was 14, a classmate stuffed something in the exhaust pipe of the family car and asphyxiated herself. Why would she do that? I was too naïve to understand, and no adult talked to me in any useful way about it. I got the feeling there was something sordid about suicide, something you should put in a far corner of a dark closet and cover up.

As an adult, I understand how life can be overwhelming, how adults can abuse the young in horrific ways, how society can expect more than a child thinks he can deliver, how shame can make a person feel worthless.

I have no idea what pushed that girl into the abyss, but I wish I’d had someone to talk to about it. I wish she’d had someone to talk to. I wish there had been books like the ones I’m about to talk about.
As a lead-up to Banned Books Week, I pledged to read and write about books that people have requested be removed from public and school libraries. The annual event, sponsored by the American Library Association and other organizations, takes place Sept. 25-Oct. 2 this year.

Two of my reading choices--TWISTED by Laurie Halse Anderson and TH1RTEEN R3ASONS WHY by Jay Asher—deal with teen suicide. They’ve opened the closet. I’ve added a third book at the end of the post, which touches on the subject, as well. That book is such a stunner, I had to include it, and no one should pass up reading it.

First, I want to say I admire the bravery of these three authors and the craftsmanship of their work.

Second, I understand why people wouldn’t want very young readers to tackle these books. They’re meant for teens/young adults, not children. For some readers, stories like these might help them see they’re not alone; there are other options and possible abuse-free futures. For the reader who has an abuse-free life, it’s not a bad thing to learn about those who are less fortunate, to understand why they behave as they do.

Third, there’s never a reason to ban a book. There is plenty of reason to be sure it’s in age-appropriate hands and to discuss the content. Parents and teachers have an opportunity and responsibility to help kids comprehend what they read and see beyond their own experiences, to learn about others, to be compassionate and open-minded. A lot of books today have study guides printed in the back. How awesome is that?

It’s hard for me to come up with the proper praise for TH1RTEEN R3ASONS WHY, but Sherman Alexie nailed it with “a mystery, eulogy and ceremony.” Asher’s debut novel is one of the most originally-told stories I’ve read in a long time as it painfully unveils the troubled life of a girl though cassette tapes she’s mailed to people she claims helped drive her to suicide.

Asher doesn’t sentimentalize Hannah. She has an active (or passive) role in much that has happened and could have made other choices. The story is told through her voice on the tapes and through Clay, one of the recipients as he reacts to her tale.

I hold my finger over the button, listening to the soft hum in the speakers, the faint squeak of the spindles winding the tape, waiting for her voice to return.

The series of events starts with a lie a classmate tells about her and grows into a reputation she never deserved. I felt Clay’s anguish as he tries to understand Hannah, who he’d been crushing on before she killed herself. I’m grateful that Asher gave Clay the sense to unravel Hannah’s story and see that she could’ve chosen differently. And so can he.

Adults are often uncomfortable with sexual reference in teen books, but if there ever was a time in life when hormones are pumping, that would be it. A teen-age boy wouldn’t tell his mother that looking at a hot girl has an immediate physiological effect, but a book written from a boy’s point-of-view might mention that embarrassing fact. Anderson does that in TWISTED, but she also gives her main character integrity. He really is a stand-up guy, and that’s no pun.

Tyler is a former nerd who turns into a "bad" boy and hunk in a matter of months. It begins with a graffiti prank that lands him a probation officer and community service of summertime labor. “I was good at digging holes. It was the rest of life I sucked at,” he says.

His head takes time to catch up with his new mystique at school, while at home his emotionally-abusive father gets worse. Tyler’s shaky grip on life slips when he’s suspected of a terrible crime he didn’t commit. The only place the book didn’t feel real to me was an interaction between father and son at the end. I doubt life would play out like that.

Anderson is also being challenged for SPEAK, an award-winning novel about a girl who loses her voice after a rape. To put a muzzle on such an important story is wrong-headed--actually it's worse than that since the attacker called the book soft porn. That's an outrage. Anderson writes on her blog about the current attack. (Please, please click over and listen to the poem she wrote using comments from readers on SPEAK. You will weep.)

Finally, I’m going to mention one more book, which deals with the death of a girl that her friends suspect may have been suicide. LOOKING FOR ALASKA by John Green, winner of the Printz Award, has also been challenged for language and sexual content. But this is a book in which the main character realizes something so profound about life, I can’t help but wish everyone would read it. Here’s a snippet that shows the elegance and depth of Green’s writing:

Her mouth close enough to me that I could feel her breath warmer than the air, she said, “That’s the mystery, isn’t it? Is the labyrinth living or dying? Which is he trying to escape—the world or the end of it?” I waited for her to keep talking, but after a while it became obvious she wanted an answer.

If anyone reading this post ever feels suicidal or knows a friend who might be, please call 1-800-SUICIDE or go to hopeline.com. There are options.

Books for people who think

I remember the day I picked up M.T. Anderson's FEED in a bookstore. I was intrigued by the cover and opened to the first page where I read:

We went to the moon to have fun, but the moon turned out to completely suck.

That's all it took for me to buy it. The voice was distinct and irreverent. The story was clearly dystopian. I figured it was going to be a good ride.

It turned out to be bloody brilliant. This book is thought-provoking, which is ironic since it's told by a clueless boy.

I can't remember the last time I had so much fun reading opening pages. I cackled and kicked my feet on the couch cushions at some of the lines. (Never fear, I was alone when carrying on like one possessed.)

FEED takes place in a future where people are hardwired to the Internet. They get instant-messages like thoughts and message each other more often than speaking out loud. Since corporations control everything, people's minds are bombarded with banner ads for products all day long.

For a teenage boy like Titus, life is all about the buzz and consumerism of the Feed, so he and his friends are thrown into shock when a hacker messes them up.

Suddenly, our heads felt real empty.

The way Titus explains the old days when people's computers weren't in their heads?

They carried them around outside of them, in their hands, like if you carried your lungs in a briefcase and opened it to breathe.

I'm not going to tell more about plot, because if you haven't read this, you really should. But I will say this story gets disturbingly dark. Titus is no hero. He's a product of his environment and confused when he finds out there are seriously bad things going on in the world. But he does make an effort in the end to do something right, even if it's too little, too late.

FEED was released eight years ago, but I'm writing about it now as part of a pledge I made to read a number of books that have been challenged or banned.

Every year, the American Library Association partners with other organizations for Banned Books Week, to bring attention to books that someone requested be removed from a public or school library.

Some parent objected to the language used in FEED, but I can't imagine a young reader (14 and up is the recommendation on the book cover) who hasn't heard the occasional swear word in our society. And this book is so much bigger than that. It makes us question consumerism, media saturation and personal responsibility. It makes us think. For ourselves.

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JULIE OF THE WOLVES was first published in 1972, but it was among the most frequently challenged books of 2002. Why? Primarily because of a rape scene, which actually is only vaguely described.

I thought author Jean Craighead George was very careful not to put in anything specific or graphic. The thirteen-year-old girl was roughed up by her simpleton husband by arranged marriage. And it is the reason she runs away alone on to the tundra. Miyax is resourceful and resilient. She remembers the old ways and survives.

The value of this book is an extraordinary look at Eskimo life and the natural environment. It is beautifully written--crisp, joyful and gnawingly sad. Here is a sample of the opening:

Miyax pushed back the hood of her sealskin parka and looked at the Arctic sun. It was a yellow disc in a lime-green sky, the colors of six o'clock in the evening and the time when the wolves awoke.

The descriptions of life in the wolf pack and how Miyax wheedles her way in as a means of survival are amazing. There is so much to learn about other cultures, how people differ from and are the same as we are. This book is a jewel, which was recognized by George receiving the Newbery Medal.

Banned Books Week is Sept. 25 to Oct. 2, but I'm leading up to it with several reviews of books that have been challenged and deserve support. You can read my first post on this here.

Getting the last word in

This book cover by textile artist Celia Birtwell reminds me of my friend Sarah's family house near Sligo, Ireland. I sat at her paned-window with drawn-back curtain and painted watercolors of Ben Bulben.

But that's for another post, another day.

Today I want to bookend my previous post about great first lines by posting some great last lines. The editors at American Book Review chose 100 Best Last Lines as they did First Lines.

Why is the last line of any import? It is the farewell, and it should be bittersweet.

I'm going to list a few from the Review editors, and as last time I will put the rank they gave it, the line in italics and then the author and title.

#1: ...you must go on, I can't go on, I'll go on.

Samuel Beckett, The Unnamable

#2: Who knows but that, on the lower frequencies, I speak for you?

Ralph Ellison, Invisible Man

#3: So we beat on, boats against the current, borne back ceaselessly into the past.

F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby

#5: But I reckon I got to light out for the territory ahead of the rest, because Aunt Sally she's going to adopt me and sivilize me and I can't stand it. I been there before.

Mark Twain, The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn

#41: I lingered round them, under the benign sky; watched the moths fluttering among the heath, and hare-bells; listened to the soft wind breathing through the grass; and wondered how anyone could ever imagine unquiet slumbers for the sleepers in that quiet earth.

Emily Bronte, Wuthering Heights

To me, these endings leave a lot to imagination. There are futures in them. I want to add a few more that weren't on the Review list. These come from challenged books I loved reading; for more on what challenged books are check out Banned Books Week. Among these is one I've always thought was one of the best endings I'd ever read:

So Lyra and her daemon turned away from the world they were born in, and looked toward the sun, and walked into the sky.

Philip Pullman, The Golden Compass

But they never learned what it was that Mrs Whatsit, Mrs Who, and Mrs Which had to do, for there was a gust of wind, and they were gone.

Madeleine L'Engle, A Wrinkle in Time

Behind him, across vast distances of space and time, from the place he had left, he thought he heard music too. But perhaps it was only an echo.

Lois Lowry, The Giver

Whether this is my end or a new beginning I have no way of knowing: I have given myself over into the hands of strangers, because it can't be helped. And so I step up, into the darkness within; or else the light.

Margaret Atwood, The Handmaid's Tale

Interestingly, the Review chose a final line from The Handmaid's Tale but from the section called Historical Notes after the main story ends. It is: Are there any questions?

How do you feel about the above as ending lines? Do you have one that stuck to you long after you closed the book?

The launching pad

Every novel starts somewhere. The author's job is to snag readers with that opening and keep them captivated.

Those first lines should be enticing or arresting. They should evoke the tone of the book, be compatible with the theme and storyline.

In reading through the 100 Best First Lines chosen by the editors of the American Book Review, I picked a few that got my attention. And, by the way, this still being Banned Books Week, a number of these amazing books also make those lists. Go figure.

I considered making this a quiz with the book title and author at the bottom of the post or in the comments section, but, hey, you probably don't want to work that hard. You can test yourself by trying to guess before reading the identity. I'm putting the lines in italics to set them off from the rest of the post and giving the number of where they fell in the 100 Best First Line list.

#3: A screaming comes across the sky.

My immediate reaction to "a screaming," rather than "a scream" and to it coming from "across" the sky is WHAT? WHY? So I'm hooked. The book is Gravity's Rainbow by Thomas Pynchon.

#8: It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen.

Thirteen. Need anything more? This one is 1984, George Orwell.

#15: The sun shone, having no alternative, on nothing new.

I love me some ennui. Gotta be Samuel Beckett, Murphy.

#16: If you really want to hear about it, the first thing you'll probably want to know is where I was born, and what my lousy childhood was like, and how my parents were occupied and all before they had me, and all that David Copperfield kind of crap, but I don't feel like going into it, if you want to know the truth.

Um, do I need to tell you? The Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger.

#21: Stately, plump Buck Mulligan came from the stairhead, bearing a bowl of lather on which a mirror and a razor lay crossed.

After this, of course, you may be lost. Ulysses, James Joyce.

#26: 124 was spiteful. Full of a baby's venom.

Spooky, much? Beloved, Toni Morrison.

#38: All this happened, more or less.

A little time shift, anyone? Slaughterhouse-Five, Kurt Vonnegut.

#39: They shoot the white girl first.

Oh, boy. This is a loaded sentence that drags the reader in, despite misgivings. Yes, it's going to be tough and probably brilliant. Paradise, Toni Morrison.

#52: We started dying before the snow, and like the snow, we continued to fall.

Bleak, but beautiful, somehow. I kept reading when I found it years ago. Tracks by Louise Erdrich.

#53: It was a pleasure to burn.

Many of you may know this iconic first line from Ray Bradbury's Fahrenheit 451.

#65: You better not never tell nobody but God.

This is going to be intense, and I want to know why. The Color Purple, Alice Walker.

#96: Time is not a line but a dimension, like the dimension of space.

A chewy thought that you know is going to be explored. Margaret Atwood, Cat's Eye.

#97: He--for there could be no doubt of his sex, though the fashion of the time did something to disguise it--was in the act of slicing at the head of a Moor which swung from the rafters.

Say what? Gotta know more of this strange tale. Orlando, Virginia Woolf

Think your first line has got what it takes? You can share it in the comments section or just drool about the above. I'd love to hear any thoughts on this subject.

Take the challenge and read this book

I don't know if men react to THE HANDMAID'S TALE as women do. Or if anybody experiences what I do. It wounds me and heals me. It terrifies me and comforts me. It astounds me and fortifies me.

It is most extraordinary storytelling told with full writerly skill by prize-winning Canadian author Margaret Atwood.

Take, for instance, some lines early in the book about the ordinariness of the protagonist's life: "We were people who were not in the papers. We lived in the blank white spaces at the edges of print. It gave us more freedom. We lived in the gaps between the stories."

Or this as she throws her body on top of her child's to protect her from the guns of pursuers: "I don't want to smother her, instead I curl myself around her, keeping my hand over her mouth. There's breath and the knocking of my heart, like pounding, at the door of a house at night, where you thought you would be safe."

I shut the book cover last night, after reading the story again, and felt as if I'd been on journey to a place that exists in imagination but has foundation in our world. I had searched my bookshelves for old friends and this one reached out her arms. I am so grateful that I embraced her again.

This is Banned Book Week and I decided to participate through blogging and reading books that have been challenged, a word used to describe an effort by someone in a community to have a book removed from a library or school. Published in 1986, THE HANDMAID'S TALE, was among the 100 most frequently challenged books between 1990-2000.

Like Ray Bradbury's FAHRENHEIT 451, another challenged book, this is a dystopian novel where knowledge and the written word are considered too dangerous for everyday folks like us. And, as in Lois Lowry's THE GIVER, also challenged, a centralized power is in control of all economic and social aspects of the society.

When I picked up Atwood's book to re-read it, I only remembered the most harrowing aspects of the tale, so it was almost like reading a new book. I was swept away with the pace and suspense and totally enamored of the rich language: "I lie in bed, still trembling. You can wet the rim of a glass and run your finger around the rim and it will make a sound. This is what I feel like: this sound of glass. I feel like the word shatter."

The book is most often challenged for sexual reference and for its portrayal of fundamentalist Christian doctrine taken to ultimate extremism. But the sex in the book is sad and horrifying, not titillating or gratuitous. The protagonist is called Offred, her real name taken away, as she is forced to become a handmaid to a Commander and his wife. Her role is to bear children for them as Jacob uses Rachel's maid in Genesis. The ruling fundamentalists think they are creating a better world where women are protected, but, as history has shown repeatedly, absolute power corrupts. What they've created is brutal.

The book doesn't end with a concrete resolution. You are left to imagine what may have been the final fate of this woman. In an epilogue, which Atwood calls Historical Notes, a future conference of academics discuss with aloofness and jest this strange period and the tapes left behind by the woman. As a writer, I was fascinated at the view this discussion gives of Atwood's world building.

This a book to be devoured. And protected. Always.