About Graphic Novels

Again, I've had another first in this class. I've never read graphic novels before, nor did I ever intend to. I thought they would all be about superheroes, and I'm not into superheroes in a literary/book kind of way. I was quite surprised at how much I actually liked them (probably more than I like verse novels).

American Born Chinese was so surprising! That twist where it all came together...I DID NOT see that coming. And then I was surprised that a graphic novel could actually surprise me. And then I was surprised that a graphic novel could be deep. Reading the critical reading (in comic form! That was cool) made these kinds of novel make much more sense, and I have a new sense of appreciation for them.

My choice graphic novel was fantastic, but if we have to blog about that, I'm going to save my comments either for class or the blog post.

So, anyway, I liked graphic novels. I never thought I would say that, but I did.

Peace, my friends.

About Verse Novels

I have this love/hate relationship with poems. My absolute favorite poem is "Annabel Lee" by Poe, followed by "Fire and Ice" by Robert Frost. I love poems that are dark and deep and serious; silly and humorous poems just annoy me. Sometimes, if I'm feeling particularly inspired, I even write poems. But they're usually not that good.

Anyway, having read two verse poems, I also have a love/hate relationship with this genre. Like how I feel with poems, I need these types of novels to be serious (and any novel, really). Brown Girl Dreaming was serious enough and I think it worked in lyric form. With I Heart You, You Haunt Me, it didn't work AT ALL. It was choppy prose, as Sam said about the book she read; it would have *maybe* been better in novel form. I think verse form can be a lazy way for writers to write something quick and with less word count. A certain kind of writer could make verse work. Some who appreciates poetry and takes it seriously, which I don't think the author of I Heart You was. I wasn't blown away by either novel I read, but if I found the right one, I have a feeling I would probably cry, like good poems make me do sometimes.

In the critical reading, it said voice had a lot to do with making a verse novel. That's probably true. It has a huge impact with any literary form. With me and my picky poetry tastes, it would be more so for me than others.

Also in the reading, I liked the little diagram/picture showing the three aspects of verse novels: novel, poetry, and drama. I can see the three aspects clearly. It could also be easily screwed up, either by putting too much emphasis on one and not enough on the other.

Verse novels are always nice if you want a quick read, too.

Alyssa out.

Brown Girl Dreaming

So, I'm having a lot of firsts in this class.

This book was one of them.

I've heard about books in lyrical form but have never actually read one until now. It was a quick read with all the white space and short poems, and I was pleasantly surprised how well I grasped the content. Originally I thought I would never understand a thing since its all poems, and who understands poems anyway? But I could.

I find it amazing that all of these little poems are stories in themselves that connect to the larger story--an African American girl navigating childhood and trying to figure herself out. A typical theme. I nearly forgot it was a memoir. I didn't even know memoirs could be lyrical.

I don't necessarily think that this book in itself deserved to get the National Book Award; but then again, I'm not entirely sure how these awards go. I think this book would connect much more to African American girls rather than me--my family, as far as I know, never fought in the Civil War, and I don't come from descendents of slaves or have lived in the South. It's because of these things that I felt less of a connection. But I liked the style. I borderline love the style.

The House of the Scorpion

I would have to say that The House of the Scorpion was my second favorite book, after The Book Thief. I'm not one for super realistic coming-of-age stories, and if I do read them, there has to be some kind of spice--interesting and funny characters, major trauma, actually sounding like a teenagers, etc. My favorite novels are more than realistic coming-of-age novels. Usually there has to be something radically different from my real world in order for me to really, really like them, like a fantasy or science fiction element.

Obviously, The House of the Scorpion would fit that.

I think my favorite aspect of this book was Matt and the world around him trying to figure out how human he is and that age old question of, what does it mean to be human? It's a very interesting question, especially for this book since Matt is a clone--a sane clone--and every other clone is stripped of their intelligence. The most vivid scene for me was when Matt and Maria are led to the hospital and Matt is astonished (to put it lightly) to see a clone strapped to a table wailing in fear and pain. I could picture is so, so clearly.

Celia and Tam Lin were, in my opinion, the best characters. When Celia declared that she had basically been poisoning Matt with arsenic so El Patron couldn't harvest his organs so he could live another fifty years I honestly almost hoorayed aloud. El Patron totally deserved that.

And then Tam Lin. Tragic. By far my favorite.

The ending was gasp-worthy. I did NOT see that mass murder coming. I give props to Nancy Farmer for giving the detail about the ground shaking a 100 pages before knowing what it was about, because I completely forgot about it and had to smile at that cleverness.

Happy Thursday.

The Graveyard Book

I'm not entirely sure what this post is supposed to be about, so I hope I'm on the right track.

From the novels we've read so far, The Graveyard Book probably falls somewhere in the middle on my scale. I liked it, and even laughed sometimes, but I think it would have been better if the ending had been different.

At first I thought the idea of a living child being brought up by ghosts and other mythical creatures was crazy, but then I found it endearing. I felt really bad for Bod, aka Nobody--just the name sounds so alone (well, obviously). This poor kid has no idea what it's like to be alive or how to live. The only part of the ending I liked was this aspect. Bod leaving the cemetery after slowly losing the ability to see/hear the dead was sad. Here he's leaving everything he's known, and he has hardly an idea of what to expect. I don't know what Silas is thinking, just letting him go off on his own without any kind of guidance. I barely understand how things work right now.

My favorite moment, though, was probably the scenes when Bod was in school or dealing with the bullies. I want to call it his brave innocence.

As to why I wasn't a fan of the ending was how rushed it seemed. One second we're dealing with life and then Jack and his super secret ancient society is chasing down Bod and Scarlet. Um, what? All of sudden we're dealing with the Jack of All Trades, and I actually started laughing at the name. But then again it is for kids around 10 years old.

Before class on Thursday that I found about Neil Gaiman talking about writing this book. I like hearing the inspiration and the process of writing it, so I thought other people might like it, too.

The Book Thief

So, I want to talk about Death.

He was interesting, especially because Markus Zusak chose Death as the narrator. In the critical reading we read, the writer talked a little bit about authors choosing narrators and point of view for their novels and the stories within them. It's a very important decision, in my opinion, especially with young adult lit, since much of the readers are obviously young and need an interesting and compelling narrator to keep reading on.

Markus Zusak could have gone with Liesal as the sole narrator of The Book Thief. However, I don't think that it would have had as much impact without Death. Of course, Death is omniscient and we, as the readers, can see the thoughts and action of most characters within the novel, which gives it a certain depth that we probably wouldn't get any other way. We get to see those moments with Max and Papa and Rosa that Liesal doesn't get to see, and their characters would have been lost to us without that knowledge of those events surrounding them. The POV is kind of weird in this novel, since the narrator is omniscient but at the same time he references himself as I. It's like an omniscient first person. (Is that even a thing? Or is there a third person POV that allows for the I?)

Using Death is also very fitting in relation to the time period that the novel takes place in. Everyone knows that millions of people died during WWII and the Holocaust. Because death was so prevalent in those times it would only make sense to use Death. It's ironic, in a way, that Death should focus on a living girl who loses most of the people she loves.

The irony Death uses in the novel is hilariously sad. At one point he says, "It kills me sometimes, how people die." I had to put down the book for a moment and absorb the sentence.  But it was phrases like that one that made me love Death as a narrator so much.

Leonardo da Vinci once said, "Our lives are made by the death of others."

I feel like that's accurate, especially for Liesal.

A Northern Light

To be honest, A Northern Light was the first young adult historical fiction novel I read (I'm having a lot of firsts in this class, it seems), and I actually quite enjoyed it.

But the novel both disappointed me and exceeded my expectations.

In the back blurb, it says that it takes place in the backdrop of the famous murder of Grace Brown. I thought that it would be like a typical mystery novel (set in the early 1900s), i.e. that Mattie discovers the body and has these letters and the entire novels is about her going on a hunt to find the man who killed Grace. In the words of Sara V., I assumed Mattie would be like a Nancy Drew. But that's not what happened. At all. I liked that it didn't focus completely on the murder because then it would have been like an equation that could be easily solved and I would have ended up bored. Instead Jennifer Donnelly gave us super small snippets of what happened around Grace's death. The novel focuses on what happened with Mattie before going to the Glenwood and meeting Grace. We see Mattie stressing about her future and her father and food and her dreams and her struggles between doing what's right for her versus what her family needs. Usually that stuff would have seemed boring to me, but it wasn't. Donnelly also managed to interweave events around the murder to events that happened in Mattie life before in a way that connected them, which was interested.

Even though I liked having the background, I wish I had more about Grace's death and Grace herself. And it was a little confusing not having a linear timeline, but after a few chapters I managed to figure out the system.

I could relate a lot to Mattie and the balance between my own dreams versus what my family needs/wants. She seemed very real to me, like a real person. And she was a realistic girl from that time period. I could believe her actions. The only times I wanted to throw the book against the wall was any scene with Royal. I hate jerks. Their whole relationship reminded me of Belle and Gaston's relationship in Disney's Beauty and the Beast. Actually, Mattie is a lot like Belle.

Weaver was my favorite character. His relationship with his mother, I thought, was excellent. He was strong and funny and caring and wanted what was best for Mattie. He was smart enough to use language against the people he hates to make them think he is less than he is just so he can teach them a lesson.

The use of words in the novel was fantastic. Words are so, so powerful. We know that, but a lot of people don't. To Mattie, words are her hope. She got into college with them; she found herself in the words left behind by Grace Brown; she tests feminist boundaries with them.

Right now I am in an obsessive phase with quotes, so I'm going to end this long post with one. I think it fits Mattie well.

"The art of living lies in the fine line of letting go and holding on." ~ Henry Ellis

Looking For Alaska

I like John Green because he writes in a very realistic teen voice type of way. Reading Looking For Alaska, I found myself smiling because Pudge or the Colonel sounded just like me when I was a teen, at least in terms of what they say. Sometimes I still think I think or speak the way John Green's characters do, but that might be because I'm not even 20 yet (*sigh*).

While Looking For Alaska had its good and bad, I think lots of teenagers could/have/will relate to it. The critical reading talked about readers identifying themselves with young adult novels; I did as an adolescent. But I think it's important to point out that teenagers won't necessarily relate to this novel only because of the death (though that's a biggie), but also because of things like crushes, those annoying things called feelings, friendship, family, fun, and discovering oneself.

That's part of the reason why I liked Pudge as the main character, since he goes through all those things within the course of the novel. The biggest things for me in high school was friends. I left the Brainerd school district in March of 5th grade to go to New Ulm, left there for Anoka in the middle of 9th grade, stayed for two months, and then went back up to Brainerd for 10th grade, and then in 11th grade went to the local community college as a PSEO student. Each move I had to make new friends--in Anoka, I didn't even have anyone to sit with at lunch, and looking back, I wish I become friends with other people. So I understand Pudge's struggle with friendship. Other teens would understand, too, and relate on a level that might have an impact on them.

And then there are the teens that might identify with the Colonel, Alaska, Lara/Lera/whatever her name is. So despite whatever your opinion on it, John Green's book rates relatively high on the relatability scale.

Impactful Paper

I *think* we were supposed to post this...anyway, here it it:

I was not prepared for how I would feel rereading Pretties, the second book in the Uglies trilogy; they were probably the most influential books I had read that shaped how I read. It’s not a fantastic read, but at the age of eleven or twelve, I thought it was genius. Deep down, I had hoped rereading it as a nineteen-year-old senior in college would have the same effect on me as it did as a tween. Of course that wasn’t the case, but it wasn’t terrible. There was equal amount of disappointment and enlightenment.

            The first time I read it I was young—perhaps a little too young. I put it on my bookcase and picked it up again a year or so later. The second time around, I devoured the entire trilogy. I read it and reread it over and over again for two weeks straight, only leaving my bedroom to go to the bathroom or get food, and then promptly go back to bed to read some more. It was like an addiction, something I couldn’t control. The dystopian world Scott Westerfeld created absorbed me, fascinated me. The physical and emotional experiences the characters went through seemed so large. I loved the escape reading Uglies gave me. My life at the time was all over the place and some major changes were happening. Tally, the protagonist, also went through some major changes. (Literally. Like body-altering changes.) While we were in completely separate situations, we were both going through tough parts of life. We needed to adapt.

            After my Uglies ammo ran out, I moved on to other books. Twilight, I’m reluctant to say, was one of the reads that I became obsessed with—I was at the perfect age when it became huge. But despite my temporary adolescent idiocy, I began to read more than I ever had after reading the Uglies Trilogy. They may not have been great books I was reading, but at the time I needed that commercial quality that outpoured after Twilight. It’s eight years later and, while I’ve learned the difference between good writing and bad writing, I still read commercial books that give me that feeling of escape I first felt while reading Uglies.

            While I unfortunately didn’t have the first book in the series (who knows where it went), I was still excited to reread Pretties. A part of me prepared for what my brain would digest, like clichés and character development and relationships, but I was surprised when I wanted to chuck the book against the wall. I almost did. Fifty pages in and Tally is kissing someone who is not David! My inner romantic, childish-self still loves the first love interest, even though, at age twelve, I rooted for the second love interest, Zane. But after having grown up and learning about the dos and don’ts of writing and storytelling, I just about gave up on the book when kissing was going on with some guy she’d just met fifty pages in. I also rolled my eyes a lot at some of the cheesy lines.

            Despite the above, there were some aspects of the book I rediscovered and loved. Mostly, these were world building aspects. Scott Westerfeld created a world after the apocalypse and referenced certain features of today’s society that made me think. “Rusties” is the term used for us. Several lines or passages either made me smile at the ironic truth Tally noted or made me seriously consider if I should worry more than I already am about our world. There’s a point in the novel where Tally is walking through the “Rusty Ruins” and observes skeletons crumbling in rusted automobiles, withering away after a plague made petroleum burst into flame. She comments on how, despite the knowledge of the plague, people still went into their cars to drive away from it, but then died before they could. I stopped reading at this point and thought, “A lot of people really would do that.” Fear can make idiotic choices. At age twelve I didn’t have the brain connections to understand what Westerfeld was trying to say. But now I do. And it’s kind of scary.

            I think I got a lot more reading the second time around. While there were parts that made me want to gag or beat the book against the wall to get rid of the stupid moments, I could appreciate the underlying conflicts, morals and social commentary in the story. The good and interesting bits outweighed the terrible romance. The image of a burned, crumbling skeleton is etched into my brain for a long time.

Disturbing the Universe

With the "Do I Dare" reading, I am soooo not touching the super long E and B words. So instead I'm going to talk about power. More specifically: who has it, who wants it, and how do you get it.

Dante, I think, is a good example of power in young adult literature.

In the reading, the author talks about the types of power--the "power to" and "power over." Society is most definitely a "power over" authority, in which it dominates over everything. The common force behind society pressures people--especially adolescents--to meld with the crowd, do what is considered normal (if there is such a thing) and if you cannot abide by the laws which society has laid out, you will be shunned. Society forces its power on people, sometimes without them even knowing. This allows for a kind of harmony. The author of "Do I Dare" mentioned Foucault contrasting two different ideas, something about how individuals will relinquish what power they have to society in order to live in this harmony, and the other idea being that people are repressed by this forceful domination. I think there's truth to both. I think Ari shows some traits of them.

Dante is more of a "power to" kind of kid in the way that he has the power to free himself from the constraints of society. From the get-go he stands out, not because he's trying to stand out but because that's simply the way he is. It's easier for Dante to let go of society's norms because of many reasons that can be debated. Dante has power; it comes from within him. Empowerment. Ari's power grows over the course of the novel. Some powers are hidden deeper than others.

That's not a bad thing.

The only problem with having empowerment is with incidents like Dante and the kids who beat him to a pulp. Some people are so scared or so angry of people who fray from the dominance of society that they will do whatever it takes to make them normal again. But there are always those people who will do what they want because that is what they are supposed to do. People like Dante. And because of people like Dante, with the capability to free themselves and others, they help people like Ari to find power.

Now I'm going to let the night have power over me. Goodnight, y'all.

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

This book was surprising. Not just content-wise, but I was surprised at how I felt about it while reading it. To be honest, this was the first LGBT book I had ever read. I'm more of a commercial fiction type of reader, and the books I've read hardly ever have LGBT characters. I didn't know how I would feel while reading about it, but I found myself liking it.

Aristotle is a fascinating character. He's also incredibly easy to relate to. I remember being fifteen or sixteen and trying to figure out the universe, my parents, the secrets in my family's lives. I remember wanting to know everything but, at the same time, being afraid of what I would be told. Aristotle's struggle with the secrets of the universe felt real because I had been there. I think most of us have.

I totally see how this book got all those awards.

We were supposed to read the first half of the book, but I ended up reading the whole thing. Admittedly, part of it was that I wanted to get it over with so I could work on other homework this next week, but a large part of it was because I wanted to keep reading. The growth throughout the story was believable, which I think can be pretty hard to do. I wanted to see what would happen next to force Aristotle to face his fears or confusion or anger and how he would deal with it, and then how it affected and him and the people he cares about.

I really liked the family moments in this book, and not just with his parents. There was the moments with Dante's parents, the moments when he thought about his brother, the revelation of Aunt Ophelia (I would have liked more on her). They were emotionally complex, not full of angst like A LOT of young adult novels these days. I appreciate that and applaud Mr. Saenz.

So, that's that.

Happy Saturday!

A Re-reading of Pretties

Unfortunately, my Uglies book has mysteriously disappeared, but I was able to re-read Pretties, the second book in the trilogy.
       

                                                       (from Wikipedia)

Before the re-read, I remembered loving the book. I remembered rooting for Zane, the central love interest. But after reading it six or seven years later, I didn't love the book as much. I wish I could have read Uglies since it is my favorite of the three novels. Pretties just did not live up to my expectations while re-reading.

I mean, I still liked the book. I still found it interesting because Scott Westerfeld really brings out this new, futuristic culture with the slang (bubbly, pretty-making, etc.) and the technology available. By this aspect I was pleasantly surprised, because I had forgotten. The general plot line I knew from the many reads I did as a tween, but I loved re-experiencing the small stuff.

Places in the book I had originally tween girl squealed at now made me sigh in frustration. (I'm looking at you, Zane and Tally). But that might be because of growing annoyance with romances I used to read like Twilight or pretty much any other paranormal romance novel I read as a tween.

There were a lot of aha! moments as well. My mind hadn't made the connections when I was younger when the novel referenced people or places or different aspects of the world we live in now, probably because, from six or seven years ago, I went through high school and college and hadn't yet learned about those things. I actually smiled at certain places because I knew what the book was talking about.

The re-read was kind of bittersweet. In one way I lost a lot of love for the book that helped me get into reading; in another way, I discovered parts or aspects of the novel and trilogy that I hadn't known before.

I really, really need to find my Uglies book.

A Book That Impacted Me As a Young Reader

Uglies by Scott Westerfeld was probably the book that most impacted me in that it was the first book that I obsessed over. Before, I liked to read occasionally but I never made a conscious decision to read. The books I read Before were school related. My class I was in required us to read a book a month or something like that. Unlike most of my peers, I was cool with that. But outside of class, I didn't read.

And then I read Uglies.

For those of you who don't know, Uglies is about a girl in a society that makes people perfect. At the age of 16, Tally is ready to have her surgery to come a "Pretty" but then meets Shay, a girl who wants to escape to a place called The Smoke. Adventure and danger ensues.

It wasn't my first time reading Uglies or the sequels. I read them a year or so before then, but I guess my little brain hadn't made enough connections to fully grasp the storyline. It was the seventh or eighth grade when I re-read the entire trilogy. Once. Twice. Three times.

I became obsessed.

For two weeks straight I stayed in my bed and just read this trilogy. Over and over and over again. I was fascinated by the world and the characters and the transitions that occurred over the course of the trilogy. I loved the escape from my reality.

Eventually I stopped reading Uglies and read other books. As embarrassing as it is to admit, I did the same thing with the Twilight Saga right before the first movie came out on DVD. After those two series, I loved reading. I wanted to read. I needed to read.

It's now 7 or 8 years after I read Uglies, and I'm still reading young adult literature. I don't know if I'll ever stop.