Round One Smackdown Results

Silence of Murder vs. Everybody Sees the Ants

The moment I saw the sticky note on “Silence of Murder” saying that it was the winner of the 2012 Edgar Award, I was sold.  I’ll admit I was biased towards this book considering I’d be Edgar Allan’s groupie if he were alive today.  Donna didn’t put up much of a fight for “Everybody Sees the Ants” due to the fact that ant dreams are too weird, so I guess it was fate that I was paired with her.  The book is about a sixteen year old Hope, who is desperately trying to help her eighteen year old brother Jeremy who is accused of murdering his baseball coach.   When we learn that Jeremy has spoken a word since he was eight, we realize this book has a different twist on a classic storyline.   Hope takes it upon herself to find out what really happened that morning and in the process she questions her brother’s sanity, the relationships in her life and the possible motives of everybody in the town.  As she gets closer to the truth she finds that there are people who are willing to do anything to stop her from finding out what really happened.  The story flips back and forth in time, to allow us to witness the tender relationship between Jeremy and his sister.  They depend on each other, because the only parent in their life is their abusive, alcoholic mother.  The part that won me over was that “Silence of Murder” had me thinking about it all day.  There aren’t many books that can make you lie awake at night wondering if someone is watching you or make you lock your bedroom door.  Then again, maybe I’m just a sissy.  I live off of books that you have to read closely to catch the author’s hints about the story’s outcome.  Overall, “Silence of Murder”, had more of what I like in a book than “Everybody Sees the Ants”.  Would I say it’ll be the last book standing?  Not if Donna has anything to say about it…

Tristin

Ants? Really? Everybody Sees the Ants? I don’t! Tristin doesn’t either! Maybe we are both “insectophobes”, ok the real term is entomophobia but I like the first one better.

The Good: I did enjoy the main character and his believability as a teen male being bullied. Does it happen the way it was described? You bet!... In the hallways of all of our schools even though we work sooo hard to prevent it. The bullying story itself would be beneficial to all teens who read it as is the storyline of Lucky Linderman having an absent father and dysfunctional family (even though they live together). Lucky’s father  hides at work to not have to deal with the loss of his own father as a POW to the Vietnam War and the recent loss of his mother. Both of these storylines are real and believable and the messages of torture, bullying and emotional imprisonment are common themes associated with teens worldwide and important messages to spread….BUT….

The Bad: Part of the storyline takes place in Vietnam with Lucky speaking to his lost Grandfather. He becomes part of the action and is his escape from the day to day reality of his brutal life. Although I get the necessary escape and the need to be free and strong, with the characters being so real and the storylines being so plausible I didn’t enjoy this part of the story at all! He talks to his POW Grandfather and has ants on his shoulder telling him what to do? Nope doesn’t do it for me. I would have preferred an alternate escape so as not to mix the magical deportation to the jungles of Vietnam with the reality of teen bullying and a young boys search to find himself and the strength to continue in the world.

The Ugly (or itchy if bitten by the ants):  The ANTS! Maybe I’m old school and prefer the angel and devil on my shoulders!

The Result:  Fry the ants! Use that jumbo magnifying glass and keep searching for a better read.

Donna

Island's End

I am choosing Island's End to move on instead of Under the Mesquite. Island's End received numerous starred reviews and was chosen as a YALSA Best Books for Young Adults. "Drawing on firsthand experience from her travels to the Andaman Islands, Padma Venkatreman was inspired to write this story after meeting with natives who overcame a natural disaster and preserved their unique way of life despite several threats to their survival." Island's End is set on a remote island untouched by time. Uido, the story's protagonist, is chosen to be her island tribe's spiritual leader. She shows strength, courage and a generosity of spirit and kindness towards her tribe and her circumstances throughout the novel. Strangers on a nearby and more modern island wish to challenge the culture, beliefs and ways of life of Uido's people. Life on this other island may be more efficient and seen more lavish; however, Uido learns that this advancement comes with costs. Her challenge is to help her people continue to see and respect and value their way of life, their beliefs in the spirit world, their respect for the land and nature, and their strong sense of community. 

 

And...after much gnashing of teeth, I can post again!!!!...

Daybreak vs. My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece:

Two Books That Will Eradicate Any Sense of Christmas Joy That You Have Managed to Muster Up

Well, this is sort of a tricky one right off the bat, as both books are...well…kind of m’eh.

Daybreak by Brian Ralph

My love of all things zombie is unfettered.  Movies, books, graphic novels—if there are zombies in it, I’ve read it or seen it.  From a remarkably young age, I have had a “Zombie Plan” for every room that I have ever had to spend any amount of time in (my bedroom, apartment buildings, classrooms, etc.).  Any student I’ve ever taught could attest to this (mainly because I have to answer questions, at some point in the year, like “why is there a hammer and a stepladder in the back of the room, Mr. Smilanich?”). 

There are, to be sure, some interesting variations on zombie tropes that have entered the zeitgeist, due primarily to the popularity of The Walking Dead (such as Ralph’s take on the eternal slow-moving zombies vs. fast-moving zombies debate:  in Daybreak, zombies are slow-moving during the day but become fast at night).  The graphic novel is violent and gruesome at times (ameliorated by the cartoonish drawings and the fact that it is black and white), and nihilistic and depressing throughout (with healthy doses of dark humour).

But the most disconcerting element of this text is the fact that it is written in second person point of view; that’s right, YOU are in the graphic novel.  Curiously, though, it had the opposite of the (presumed) desired effect for me; rather than involving me in the story, it had this strange, distancing effect.  I was never really that emotionally invested; perhaps this is due to “the reader,” thick in the events of the novel, never having any control of his or her actions.  “I” make some thunderously poor choices.  Ultimately, the choice of point of view actually creates this sense of almost existential passivity rather than generating any sense of putting the reader in a position of agency.

I can see me putting this in the hands of some students, but it really is, disappointingly, m’eh.

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher

Well, you can tell from the title that this is going to be a real laugh riot.

Here’s what is great about the book; there is a real sense of time and place generated, mainly through Pitcher’s at times remarkable capacity to capture the voice of a ten year old boy, the ten-year old mind filled with the buoyancy of hope and innocent optimism.  Jamie is a great, complex, cleverly-written character, and deals with the issues of the novel realistically as a ten-year-old would, with some laugh-out-loud moments of guilelessness. 

But, oh, those issues.  None of them unrealistic or “over-the-top,” I suppose, as grief often begets grief, as a traumatic event systematically dissembles a family.  Jamie’s elder sister was killed in a London terrorist attack, leading to his father’s deeply-felt racist views against Muslims.  And his alcoholism.  Jamie’s mother, unable to cope, leaves the family, and her absence hangs over the novel, a metaphor for absent compassionate parenting.  And there’s bullying.  And more death.

The grief, throughout the novel, is palpable.  And honest.  And entirely realistic.  And periodically moving.

Which leads to some of the problems of the novel.  There are a few late stage moments where ridiculously “happy” events occur and, amidst all the genuine grief, they come across as more than a little clichéd—dare I say, schmaltzy.  To the point where this reader, who bursts into tears on a regular basis while reading, was rolling his eyes rather than dabbing them (this is not to say there weren’t other moments where the room wasn’t very dusty).  The very definition of bathos.  And I’m the World’s Biggest Sucker.

Also problematic?  I’m not really sure who the audience is for this book.  It doesn’t really feel like a YA book, so steeped in the time and place of the London bombings. And so steeped in Britishisms; I think a student would require some coaching through this.  And there is a lot of sadness.  A lot.  It feels more like a book for adults with a child protagonist.  And yet I’m not sure there is the “meatiness” expected to make this a great novel for adults either.

But, for the voice and the character and the sensitive handling of some contentious issues, I begrudgingly move My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece onward!

Rotters wins hansdown!

I was hoping for more of a fight, really, but Rotters came away on top.  I found Why We Broke Up to be a  diet version of 13 Reasons Why.  The illustrations were cool, but the protagonist's voice drove me nuts!  It had plenty of versimilitude, but when you're dealing with whiny teenagers is that what you want?

Rotters, on the other hand, was totally different.  I've never read anything like it; never heard the protagonist's voice before.  Aside from being well-written, suspenseful, and overflowing with absolutely disgusting imagery (it's about graverobbers, after all), I learned a whole lot about the history of graverobbing.  The ending threw me a bit, but hey, I usually quibble with endings.

It wasn't even a fight, really, more of a slaughter!

GO ROTTERS!

Given the fact that Shelley and I spend most of our waking (kind of)  hours in the same building, you'd think we might find a few spare moments to sit down over a cup of coffee, discuss the merits of each  and craft a subtle and eloquent exploration of each text before rendering our judgments. Dream on Smackdownians! We're in a junior high in December, after all. So here some of our still eloquent, if not exactly subtle email exchanges and our final call on these two fine books.

From: Shelley Kunicki
Sent: Friday, December 14, 2012 7:54 AM
To: Brent McKeown
Subject: Mighty Smack Down Blog

Yikes, we need to have this done for Monday.

 My views are as follows:

 The Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Klassen:  While I did enjoy this one more than I thought I would, I still feel that this topic has been done ad nauseam.  It was interesting, however, that the point of view came from the family whose son committed murder and suicide as a result of bullying.   The narrator ‘s reaction to this situation was certainly believable as well; he felt guilty because he was a bystander who did nothing to help, and then he felt angry as his life changed so dramatically. The anger at his parents, I am sure, would be something students would relate to.

 Was this well done?  Yes, it was.  It was a compelling read. 

Is it something students could relate to?  It deals with many issues that are certainly part of their lives.

But... I don’t think it is the “essential” literary work that we are looking for.

No Crystal Staircase:  The more I think about this book and talk about it, the more I like it and think that this is the one we should put forward.   It is a book that is not my usual choice, but I really enjoyed it.  So I think it might appeal to some students too.  I really enjoyed  the “documentary” style to it and I actually visualized each speaker as they told their story.  Historically, I think it is an undiscovered treasure – especially with the whole idea of the “power of the word” and understanding an individual’s history is so important.  All of the important names during this time who dropped by the book store is an eye opener as well.

Hi Shelley,

As we kind of thought in our few hurried conversations about these books over this past month, we are on the same page on this one.

 I was pleasantly surprised with The Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Klassen. I was a little worried in the early going that the narrative voice would become overly cloying, but it really didn't despite a few too many references to Henry's "wobblies" and a couple of other overly precious touches. Overall, though, I really liked Henry and I thought all of the major characters - with the possible exception of the weird male neighbour with the heart of gold (whose name escapes me right now) - were complex characters who moved beyond (maybe not far beyond, but beyond) the simple types that they appear to be when first introduced. If not, perhaps, compulsively readable, I still enjoyed the reading experience and I too though the concept of telling a bullying story through the lens of a school shooting was intriguing, but also, in some ways, overly ambitious. Is it possible to do justice to such a complex web of emotions in such a relatively slim volume? I don't know, but I think that Nielsen probably does as much as she can with it given her target audience. I have read Lionel Shriver's We Need to Talk About Kevin which looks through a mother's eyes as she surveys the damage of wrought by her psychopathic, school shooter son and it was one of the most intellectually rewarding and emotionally devastating reading experiences I've ever had. I don't think we should be looking for something similar here, but because I can seemingly never quite do anything significantly ahead of a deadline, I’m writing this at 7:30 on Monday night after a weekend where I just couldn't quite shake what happened in Connecticut. While in this book, the school shooting is really used more as an expression of how the violence of bullying can beget another type of violence, it will be difficult for anyone to read this book in the coming months without finding some disconcerting resonance with the real world. And, maybe that’s a point to argue for the relevance of this novel in our kids’ lives. I don’t know. Ultimately, this is a book that you could give to most kids in junior high or high school and I think they would enjoy the experience.

No Crystal Stair: A Documentary Novel of the Life and Work of Lewis Michaux, Harlem Bookseller by Vaunda Micheaux Nelson is about as different a book fromThe Reluctant Journal of Henry K. Klassen as one can imagine. I don’t know that I’d ever heard the term “documentary novel” before picking up this book and I’m always excited to explore a new text form. I also went through a period in university when I did a lot of reading in black history and I was particularly interested in Malcolm X, so in many ways I am an ideal target audience for this book.  I really enjoyed it, but I’m well aware that it would be a different type of read for a young person . I found it thought-provoking and evocative both in substance and in style, but I’ve struggled with the degree to which I would consider this to be a young adult book. As noted above, I’m pretty confident that I could give The Reluctant . . .  to most kids and they would read it and find something of value. No Crystal Stair would be a tougher sell in terms of immediate appeal and it does require some persistence to work through. We are dealing with an extremely complex period of American history and the print documentary style requires students to synthesize a great deal of information in a variety of forms. 

 So, what I’ve been grappling with here is how to compare a well written, in many ways prototypical YA novel that would be accessible for most (The Reluctant Journal . . .) versus an eclectic hybrid novel that certainly won’t be for everyone. There is no question that No Crystal Stair is a novel that stretches the boundaries of what YA literature can be. I still don’t think I’d recommend it for everyone, but it is a book with some powerful ideas about history, culture and most of all, the power of books to change our perceptions and our space in the world.

 Brent and Shelley Agree! No Crystal Stair goes forward.

Dead Ends for a Dead Head

I feel bad for Andrew that he got snookered into writing the blog response for  the two of us for Blue Fish and Dead End.  We can all be grateful he did so, because all you would be getting from me are disjointed rambles interspersed with stretches of white space.  And he did summarize how I also felt about the two books - it wasn't really a big decision.  We picked the better from two mediocre novels.

So I hereby commit to upholding my share of the smackdownian responsibilities in round two, by not leaving a blog to the last minute, or foisting the writing onto my partner.  Swear on Shakespeare's grave.

Tracy Wright