Banned Books Week 2012

A long time ago, there was an episode of The Famous Jett Jackson on Disney Channel that made reference to Fahrenheit 451. I don't remember much of the episode's plot (as it was a long time ago and TFJJ didn't last very long), but I do remember Jett taking part in a sit-in, and his inspiration came from Bradbury's novel.*

It's Banned Books Week! I have yet to read Fahrenheit 451 (it's on my to-read list), but I did finish my 2012 BBW read this morning: The Giver by Lois Lowry. It's one that's likely to be taught in school at some point, but for some reason, I was never in an English class that taught it. I know it wasn't because it was banned/challenged in the district; it was merely a matter of it not being on the syllabus in the English classes I took the year I took them. I managed to also miss anything by Jane Austen until college, as well as The Catcher in the Rye. We did read some fabulous literature in elementary, junior high, and high school. Plus, I had the chance to read some great literature in college courses from authors I'd hadn't encountered before then. As for the rest of them, I'm slowly making up for lost time, reading all the books I missed.

And because there are so many of them, combined with the fact that I'm a slow reader, it's taking a long time.

But, anyway: The Giver. I'm glad that I didn't know much about it going in. I knew it was a dystopian novel, and I knew it was greatly admired, but I didn't know anything about the plot. It blew me away. I gasped aloud at least twice, as realizations hit about the true horrors of the community system in which Jonas, the protagonist, lives. It's a brilliant novel, and Lowry's writing is incredible--this, I think, was the first book I'd ever read of hers, and I was so engaged that I forgot what time it was and the list of things I'd hoped to do today. And as soon as I was done, and found out there were three more books within the same series, I added them to my to-read list.

There are a lot of banned and challenged books that have been included on various lists over the years. The American Library Association has compiled lists by year, from 2001 to present day.

One of these days, I need to sit down and make my way through Brave New World. After The Casual Vacancy and The Hobbit, anyway. The freedom to read is a beautiful thing. What are you reading?



*I was curious. When I looked it up, I watched it on YouTube; someone had posted the episode in two parts (part 2).

A Few Brief Thoughts on Learning

The reading we were discussing in French Lit today included a couple essays from the French essayist Montaigne. The excerpts we had to read discussed the concept of death from Montaigne's point of view. Back at the beginning of the semester in my non-fiction class, we talked a little about Montaigne as one of the earliest essayists (in the traditional sense of non-fiction, anyway) in history. He's well known, and his writing is highly regarded.

When we talked about him in Adv. Non-Fiction, we discussed how the word "essay" derives from the French "essayer," which means "to try" or "to attempt". Essays, therefore, are one means for the writer to make an attempt to make sense of the world in relation to their own viewpoint; it can also be a kind of attempt to make a point (as in an essay supporting and promoting a certain argument).

Today, we talked a little about the origins of "essais," the French for essays. Again, "essayer" is the word from which it derives. 

For some reason, when my professor asked us what it meant in English, and we answered "to attempt," I had a moment of clarity. Essays are attempts. An attempt. I knew I made the connection back at the beginning of the semester, but it seemed to finally click, and the connection between these two things, French literature from the Renaissance and the art of writing non-fiction (essays in particular), solidified itself within my mind. True to the humanistic spirit of the Renaissance, Montaigne's essays explore and exemplify the idea of individual thought. 

I've been fascinated with the idea of coming to some sort of understanding through the act of writing, particularly how memory can assist with that in addition to the intriguing idea of a kind of fallible  memory. (This, of course, is thanks to the amazing Non-Fiction writing class I'm currently in.) Memoirs, for instance, are reflections upon an event or more that may be connected in some way. These reflections attempt to make sense of who we are as human beings, as individuals, as one small part of the collective human race. There is so much freedom in this: non-fiction (including the memoir) can be anything, explore anything. Montaigne is trying to come to an understanding of his own views on death in relation to the viewpoints from various philosophers of and before his time.

Understanding. Attempting to understand, to make these connections in what we know, what we remember, and what we may not know. 

I have random moments similar to this fairly often. I will be sitting in lecture, and something--or everything--will suddenly click. Perhaps there is an overlap, or even repetition in the information. Perhaps it is also an honest interest in what we're learning. I love those grand moments of understanding. Little by little, the world starts to make a bit more sense. Perhaps this is what my answers to the Sorting questions on Pottermore indicated when I was officially sorted into Ravenclaw.* Maybe, maybe not. 

I think it simply comes down to learning and how this (an many other kinds of learning) continues. Our minds, as well as our capacity and desire to gain knowledge, is an intriguing thing. 

*I explain more on this (and other thoughts on Pottermore) later; I'm still in shock. But a good kind of shot. It's hard to wrap my mind around it...

Thought Box on "A Love Story Starring My Dead Best Friend"

Thought Box/Review for A Love Story Starring My Dead Best Friend
By Emily Horner

I finished this a month ago and was too overwhelmed with everything else to post about it. But it's here now and that's all that matters. Because I read it quickly, and the details aren't as fresh as they were a few weeks ago, I'm going to do this Thought Box a little differently. (With bulletpoints! Well, to an extent.)*

Anyway: Love Story focuses on Cass, a high schooler who is dealing with the aftermath of the death of her best friend, Julia. (I know it sounds cliche, but trust me: there's a whole lot more to the story than you'd think.) There are two alternating storylines, "Then" and "Now". "Then" follows Cass as she makes her way to California cross-country--by bicycle--to see the ocean, carrying Julia's ashes with her. (Her reason for doing this stems from plans for a California road trip that she and Julia had made before Julia's death.) "Now" focuses on the events post-trip, as Cass helps with the tech crew for the production of "Totally Sweet Ninja Death Squad," the musical Julia had been working on before she died. Cass finds herself dealing with her grief in different and similar ways as the rest of the cast, and also working closely with Heather, the girl who made her life a living hell in elementary and middle school. As time goes on, and the more she and Heather deal with the reality of their mutual past, Cass finds herself falling for her.

The first thing you have to understand about this book is that it flows in a very different manner than one might expect. There was a specific reason I read it so quickly--it's EXCELLENT. The two storylines are brilliantly balanced, alternating by chapter. The action in each seems to mirror one another; as if something that happens in "Now" reminds Cass of the events in "Then" that had happened just months before, and we see it because she remembers it. We see the two versions of Cass grow simultaneously and it's really quite beautiful. Sometimes this kind of back-and-forth storyline does not work (i.e. "The Summer I Turned Pretty," which I found to be confusing past patience), but it really does here. It's clear that Horner took great care to weave the two stories together in a way that best suited Cass's journey. Beautiful, beautiful stuff.

Cass does a LOT of growing up throughout the novel, and I think it's interesting that she almost has TWO coming-of-age revelations because of the events in each storyline. We see Cass really coming to terms with both Julia's passing in "Then" and her sexuality, having her first kiss with a male bass player at a hotel she finds herself in the early morning, and then soon after having her first real relationship with a girl she meets in Missouri. But then there's an interesting of mix of these things PLUS her still-very-strong grief PLUS her discomfort and clashing with Oliver and the other drama kids, who are dealing with their own grief.

In "Now," we see the tail-end of the former clashing with the others, but more importantly Cass dealing with the past she has had with Heather and how she is beginning to feel and see her differently. I loved reading their interactions; Heather has a particular way of speaking with Cass, and I was fascinated with the way in which Cass would respond to her. (It's hard to put into words; they are simultaneously in tune with one another while also being on completely different wavelengths.) There are some important things we discover about Heather as well, and their complicated relationship continues to complicate itself as the story continues.

But wait, there's more! (And it's good!) One thing that runs pretty steadily throughout both storylines is Cass coming to terms with her feelings for Julia. It's marvelous to see Cass working through all of these intertwined emotions because thy are so multi-dimensional....I laughed as she sticks her head out of a hotel window to yell up at the sky, informing her dead best friend that she'd had her first kiss. I found myself wrapped up in the emotions as she yells toward the ocean near the end of the novel...so many moments very much like these.

A few other things I loved: Cass' growing collection of trinkets as she makes her journey cross-country, the fact she rode a BICYCLE (heck yes!), she and her parents are Quakers, nerd jokes galore, LGBT characters (Props to Jon, Cass, and Heather), believable and non-cliche depictions of grief and its effects, the ending of the "Then" storyline--both brilliant and unexpected--and, among many other things, a musical about FREAKIN' NINJAS, complete with gore and catapults and all other cool props.

If I had any criticisms (and believe me, they are few), it would be that sometime it was hard to follow dialog. I sometimes had to count back to keep track of who was speaking, and some of of the important elements of the plot, etc. were hard to keep track of at first--but then again, I did read the book quickly...

I think what it really comes down to is the character of Cass, because she's what's really driving this story. She's a strong protagonist, and throughout the novel, you can't help but feel the emotion right along with her. I'm keeping my eye out for any future novels that Horner puts out. I know they will be just as beautiful as this one. 

*So my apologies if this post seems jumbled and fragmented. Future Thought Boxes will be easier to follow, I promise.

Thought Box on "The Perks of Being a Wallflower"

Review/Thought Box for: The Perks of Being a Wallflower 

by Stephen Chbosky 

I don't really get a lot of time for fun reading during the semester, so I feel very lucky to have actually finished a book (especially since the last one I read was read in January....). Perks, especially, was one that I had a hard time putting down; so when I allowed myself some down time last weekend, I finished the last half of the novel in one sitting. And it was worth it. 

There is so much to Charlie's story, much more than I had ever expected. Through his letters to an anonymous recipient, we see his perceptions of some really heavy issues. I was overcome with the way in which Charlie would relay the events of the novel. He gives an explanation of what happened, then talks about something else, or describes a memory from his childhood--related or no--leaving the resulting emotions to float above the page, allowing the reader to absorb them and almost...experience them as he does. Sometimes, he is so overcome with emotion that he is not able to bring himself to talk about the event or even certain details of a memory. He gives the information that is necessary to understand, and honestly, it is all one needs to know. 

These moments are truly powerful; Charlie's character voice is painfully honest, and as a reader, one is caught up in every story, every emotion he feels as he "participates." He doesn't gloss over anything. He gives the reader the truth, without shame--and I feel that this is one of the strongest aspects of the novel. I loved how I was able to fill in information without it being given to me word for word. It takes a great deal of care and skill to be able to pull that off, and I think Chbosky is a master. 

Charlie feels everything purely. One of my favorite parts of the book, from pages 38-39 (the end of part one): 

Anyway, Patrick started driving really fast, and just before we got to the tunnel, Sam stood up, and the wind turned her dress into ocean waves. When we hit the tunnel, all the sound got scooped up into a vacuum, and it was replaced by a song on the tape player. A beautiful song called "Landslide." When we got out of the tunnel, Sam screamed this really fun scream, and there it was. Downtown. Lights on buildings and everything that makes you wonder. Sam sat down and started laughing. Patrick started laughing. I started laughing.

And in that moment, I swear we were infinite. 

I love every one of these big moments, ranging from depictions of his evenings spent with the group watching Rocky Horror, to their parties, or events at school. Even the smaller moments are beautiful.

This may sound strange, but whenever I read a book, I feel like I was meant to read it at that very moment, that either before or after that time, I'm not meant for it. This is one of those cases. There's something about our understanding of the world, the way and time we take to make connections between the things that happen in our lives, that when we make those connections, it is both overwhelming and exhilarating. After being in Pittsburgh over Spring Break, and having thought about my own experiences from high school, and realizing that I'm finally starting to understand myself and who I am, this book was exactly what I needed. As Perks demonstrates, life is much more complex than we can ever fully understand--and by participating, as Bill encourages Charlie to do, we are able to make sense, however small, of what it means to be us. Our issues, both external and internal, simultaneously come together and break apart, and in these defining moments (very much like the one described above) we know something more than we did before, even if our understanding is still very slight. 

Charlie has his share of family problems. He has to deal with the deaths of important people in his life. He encounters complicated issues many teens face. He has great friends in Patrick and Sam--who are awesome, by the way, as imperfect and flawed as they are--who introduce him to many people and many new things. Charlie's story is beautiful. This is an important book, not only for teens, but everyone.