YA Novels
The Poet X, a YA novel written as the title character's poetry journal was a wonderful way to kick off my National Poetry month reading. The Poet X celebrates the power of poetry while grappling with religion, identity, family, sexuality--pretty much all the big issues teens deal with. Author Elizabeth Acevedo is a former middle school English teacher whose use of language is lovely. Here, the protagonist Xiomara writes about her new-found love, Aman:
Every time I think about Aman
poems build inside me
like I've been gifted a box of metaphor Legos
that I stack and stack and stack.
The author reads another of X's poems here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EAKiLr__ppM&fbclid=IwAR0MBrzbABFLAU6KwagBM1HR9l28Ukk8dXOpfGjbI95Yd1cw2AjWEElxa_A
Highly recommended.
I also recommend Words in Deep Blue, by Cath Crowley, a teen love story with a twist--parts of the story are told in notes left in books in the Letter Library, a section of a charming book store owned by Henry Jones's family. Henry's childhood friend Rachel Sweetie is hired to create a catalog of everything written on or left within the books in the Letter Library--this cataloging is occurring because the book store may be sold in the wake of Henry's parents' separation. Rachel and others have secrets that only gradually emerge--while the characters do suffer pain, the ending is life-affirming.
Reading Classics
I read two "classics" this month, neither of which I had read before. I actually liked White Fang, by Jack London, more than I thought I would. It's a vivid portrayal of a wolf's life in the wild and then in domesticity; the reflective reader may be prompted to consider what is lost and what is gained when humans become "tamed." The book begins with the trek of two men across the Yukon, beset by a pack of wolves. After one man is killed and the other survives, the narrative follows the wolf pack. I didn't really think the switch in narration from humans to wolves worked, although I guess it provided a context for the travails of the wolves. Notwithstanding Theodore Roosevelt's having called out London as a "nature faker," the writing is compelling.
Wuthering Heights, by Emily Bronte, my book group's selection for the month, was another story. Although I really appreciated the analysis that our discussion leader Linda led us through, I really disliked the book. The characters were, in my opinion, entirely despicable, I could not understand Bronte's choice to put two unreliable narrators between the reader and the story, and, in sum, I disliked the book intensely.
Some Sci-Fi
I feel unjustifiably proud of myself when I venture out into some science fiction, and I enjoyed both of the speculative works I tried this month. The Dispatcher is a novella by John Scalzi that was one of Audible's free originals this month. In Scalzi's future Chicago, murdered people suddenly disappear from the scene and reemerge at home, naked and alive. Building on this miraculous development, an entirely new career develops--dispatcher, people who patrol hospitals to dispatch people beyond medical help so they can live. The book's story develops from the free-lance work that dispatchers do so that people can, for example, engage in risky activities and survive. It's both thought-provoking and entertaining.
Here and Now and Then, by Mike Chen, is a time-traveling adventure and, like all time-travel adventures occasionally confused me--but it's entertaining nonetheless. Kin Stewart was a time-traveling agent from the year 2142 who becomes stranded in the 1990s. He decides to build a life there, marrying and fathering a child. After 18 years, rescuers from 2142, where only a few weeks have passed, arrive to rescue him, whether he wants to be rescued or not. Back in 2142, he has a fiance who no longer understands him and the ability (though forbidden) to find out what happened to his wife and daughter after he left--what he learns is not good and he sets out to change his daughter's future. The book is, in essence, a testament to the power of love, and I recommend it.
Rant
I've gone on about this before, but Anna Quindlen's Nanaville: Adventures in Grandparenting brings an old complaint to the fore: there are a lot of silly books that get published simply because their authors are well-established. At the time she wrote this book, Quindlen had one grandchild who was still a toddler and, honestly, she doesn't have anything of much interest or value to share about grandparenting. Her advice is, at best, common sense that few need to be told--and it comes from her privileged position as a member of a functional family unit with exceptional means. Advice from that perspective does not go down well.
