We Didn’t Dig Dig, but Slay Slew

 

Back in the day, when I was teaching high school English, one of the things I loved most was finding unique texts that subverted student expectations of genre, structure, voice etc. I can’t even remember the specific text he was referring to, but I distinctly remember a student saying to me after a pretty engaging class discussion, “You know what, Mr. McKeown? I really enjoyed talking about that book with everyone, but I totally didn’t enjoy reading it.” I totally got where he was coming from, of course, as I think we’ve all had that experience at some point, and that little anecdote came back to me about ¾ of the way through Dig. I could see all of the pieces starting to fall into place in this complex novel at that point, and they are important pieces. Having spent the last four years watching what seems to be the death throes of a long crumbling democracy (Note: I’m starting President Obama’s memoir as soon as I’m done writing this, so perhaps I haven’t totally given into cynicism and despair in that regard), I can recognize the, at times, poignant social commentary at work here. The narrative structure of the novel was obviously carefully crafted, but for some reason it really left us all cold. We had a good talk about this as an SBS smackdown group the other day and the question we grappled with was if the narrative construct - as thematically appropriate as it might be - ultimately sacrificed our deeper connections with these characters and I think we landed on a resounding “Yes.” I have no question that kids will respond to some of the specific circumstances these kids find themselves in and depending on their level of understanding of -and engagement with- the frightening polarization that seems to frame too much of our modern discourse, they will recognize the novel as an accurate representation of our modern ethos. We have a number of fairly sophisticated readers who have walked down our halls these past few years and we were struggling to think of one for whom this book would really resonate. One other minor but fairly substantial quibble: for a writer as skilled as this I’m not sure that making one of our central characters - the Freak - a ghost really served the larger ends of the novel all that well. I’m not opposed to ghosts or breaking the laws of physics in any general sense, and I have written positively about Ghost Boys and (way back) Everyday in these very Smackdown pages, but here, again, the Freak turned into a narrative device rather than a fully fleshed out character. It served to tie everything together certainly, but I’m going to suggest that this actually did a disservice to the poignancy of her story. So, I know this might get us some smacks as there is certainly lots of high critical praise for Dig, but that’s where we are at. 

 

Slay was a book that took a little while to warm up to and I’m fully prepared to own that as a flaw in my own specific reading context. I’ve played the odd video game over the years, but I’ve never been fully immersed in a digital world. Objectively, I’d say the author did a good job of crafting what it would be like to be within Slay (the game) and I could picture a number of students really being transported into that space. I just couldn’t get there. It would be like trying to imagine a mountain or an ocean if you’ve never actually experienced one. But like I say, that’s just me being old. Like Dig, this is a book that has something to say about important issues that are uniquely representative of our time. Slay is not as narratively adventurous - although it is not without ambition - and I think we all felt a little more connected with the characters, particularly Emerald. I think it is always a challenge for an author who hopes to educate - as Brittney Morris clearly does - to do so without being pedantic and she walks this tightrope quite ably. The thematic home base of the book is that in order to combat firmly entrenched systemic racism, young people of color need a space of their own where they can be free to live their lives without always being cast as “other.” In this book, that space is Slay, but the real drama in Slay plays out as our young protagonist navigates the “real” world of friends (and lovers), family and politics and I think she really has something valuable to say about the frightening complexities of our time. The author doesn’t shy away from nuanced discussions, but the book also has the appeal of a fairly straightforward narrative, that builds towards a satisfying conclusion. While my age may have been an impediment to my connections with the intricacies of the game itself, I think being a child of the 80s served me pretty well in understanding the multitude of African American pop culture references that are at the heart of both the game and the novel. Ultimately, We thought this was a book that could speak to a range of kids and have them entering into an important and timely dialogue about race and relationships in a very entertaining way. The first round is always a tricky one, but we like Slay for the underdog win here.