Sunday, July 4, 2010

This World We Live In by Susan Beth Pfeffer

This is the final companion to Life As We Knew It and The Dead & the Gone. Miranda Evans and her family have survived over a year after the catastrophic meteor hit the moon, creating an inhospitable earth. Life is a monotonous game of survival: eat now or perish? eat now or relish later? While life seems better, the government is able to send out some food. Their hope is guarded.

Hmm...honestly, I read this book awhile ago and have been putting off reviewing it for some time. It's not fresh in my mind, and I'm still deliberating how much I liked it.

Here's my quick synopsis: Miranda Evans and her family are still struggling to survive in rural Pennsylvania. Miranda dreams of something -anything- different, and longs to know if her father, step-mother, and baby sibling have survived. Her brothers go off on a fishing expedition, and her older brother, Matt, returns with a wife. She's odd, beautiful, and damaged, and she definitely makes Matt happy - but she is one more mouth to feed.

Later, Miranda's father and step-mother return. Having had no luck traveling west, they have been slowly making their way back to Pennsylvania, so that Miranda's father can be near all his children. On their trip home, Miranda's father and family have adopted others: Charlie, a happy middle-aged soul and the Morales siblings: Alex and Julie. These are the same Morales who were in The Dead & The Gone. That book ended with Alex obtaining tickets to a safe community - a town where the government provides protection and food for a select few.

This was a good book, but not great. However, this book develops a level of maturity greater than the others. It is in this book where the real gravity of their situation forces the main character to make very adult decisions that few will ever have to make in their lives. I wouldn't recommend this to a sixth grader because the decision at the end are so ... heavy. I'm not sure an 11 year old would get that. This book definitely feels more high school (lower high school) than middle-school.

Grade: B

Is Three the Magic Number?


Ah... Trilogies. We shake our heads pretentiously, and yet we still eat them up. And sometimes they're not bad.

Star Wars: Return of the Jedi - The Ewoks! I mean, they rocked! The romance of Leia and Hans? Irresistible. My 6 year old heart adored this movie - and still does.

His Dark Materials: The Amber Spyglass - Ehh... As the final closer to The Golden Compass and The Subtle Knife, this book took a flight into the too fantastical and philosophical. If talking cabbage heads had shown up, I wouldn't have been shocked. However, there were some sentient trees, if I recall correctly. While I loved this book, it was partially due to how hard I loved the first two.

Lois Lowry's The Messenger. This was just a silly mess, in my opinion. The Giver is like a good punch to the head. It's probably in my top 5 YA books. The Gatherer was also awesome - and part of its awesomeness was in how absolutely different the book felt from the first. But The Messenger just felt superficial. A way to fulfill a demand - either by the readers or the publishers, I don't know. I'm not faulting Lowry - The Messenger is still a great book, but it doesn't reach the caliber of The Gatherer. And as a relative of The Giver? I still ruminate over The Giver years later, but The Messenger means nothing to me.

As an aside, I hope Lois Lowry NEVER EVER gives movie rights to The Giver. Am I ecstatic to see The Hunger Games, whenever it comes out? Definitely! But The Giver is too holy and too fantastic to recreate. How would we recreate a black and white world? How would a movie show the control exerted over individuals in The Giver? (In regards to the black and white vision, Pleasantville did a lovely job of this actually...)

All this is because I've been meaning to review Pfeffer's This World We Live In, which completes her series about life after a meteor hits the moon and creates havoc, end of humanity type of havoc, on our climate system.

The photo "Thick Encyclopedias with Colorful Hardcovers" is copyright 2010 by Harla Varlan and made available under Creative Commons-licensed content requiring attribution. Edited by M. Morrill.

Tuesday, June 29, 2010

Fear of Speaking: Our Society's Reluctance to Play the Adult to Children

Last week, I had my niece and nephew staying with us. My nephew is 8 and energetic. He came with the following information "He's kind of allergic to sugar and caffeine." Later in the week, my husband said to me, "You know, I never saw sugar hit a kid so quickly."

While I let them load up on sugary sweets, I still had the willpower to say no to soda and energy drinks.

Let me get back to my original point. My nephew is no angel, but he's a lovable kid. He's an 8 year old boy. But twice I observed adult interactions - or should I say "non-interactions" with strangers that involved him. The first was at the children's museum, which was an absolute blast. We went to the scheduled Meet the Animals activity, where they got to pet a reptile of some sorts. There were probably 15 kids there. Some sitting patiently and quietly, and others, like my nephew, much more absorbed in the raccoon and bobcat windows. He and a few others walked around during most of the demonstration, not really interested in what the animal lady had to say. They stopped only when the reptile (a skink?) was allowed to walk around on the floor and when they were allowed to pet it. As the show was over, my nephew was moving about and squeezed past a lady who was sitting on one of the steps of the observation windows. She said this, "It would be nice if some kids would say Excuse Me." Maybe (probably) she was saying it loud enough for my nephew's adult (me) to hear. Maybe she was saying it for my nephew.

Fast Forward: Cabela's Store. My nephew is standing directly between two cash registers because this kept him more than an arm's length from the crazy junk they have for impulse buys. A woman with a cart came from the opposite direction (god only knows why) and complains to her husband, "I would go but this kid is in my way." She maneuvered around my nephew and was huffy. Had she just talked directly to him, he (probably) would have moved.

These situations both exemplify a common problem: our reluctance to talk to children. My nephew's too young to take an indirect hint. However, he is old enough to understand a directive. If you want an 8 year old to move, you just say "Excuse me." If you are upset that an 8 year old boy is squeezing behind you, there's no reason why an adult can't say "Please say excuse me if you would like to move."

Or these situations exemplify a deeper problem: Our reluctance and fear to stick our necks out and reprimand children (gently, I'm not talking about a screaming match with some stranger's kids) or interact with them. If you keep up on the education news, you'll hear a lot about an abdication of power by parents. Parents who don't reprimand or would rather allow the schools to do it. But there's been an abdication of power by our whole society. People are afraid to say, "Hey, cut it out."

I think, for males, there might be a fear that they'll be seen as some leering sick-o. Women, I think, might fear they'll come off as a b*tch or that they have no right to infringe on another mother's parenting skills.

I've been a perpetrator in this silent acceptance of misbehavior, too. Lots of times. But I also think that, as a teacher, I've learned that I have a responsibility and right to ask children for order and behavior.

But I still feel that same hesitation... That same fear...

The question is what is it that we fear? Some stranger's disapproval? That the kid might not comply? That the kid might say no or be a jerk back? Should those things matter?

My Life So Far

This is not a book review. This is a life review.

1. It is too hot outside to do anything.

2. I don't want to do anything.
2a. Not even read.

3. I have to finish my Masters.
3a. I don't want to.

4. I have to get ready for Summer School.
4a. I don't want to.
4b. Red Badge of Courage sucks.

5. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEW TWILIGHT MOVIE!!!!

6. I CAN'T WAIT FOR THE NEW HARRY POTTER MOVIE!!!

7. Even more, I cannot wait for the third sequel of The Hunger Games: Mockingjay. However, that book will signify the end of the summer. (It is released on August 24, which is only a day or two before I have to go back.)

Friday, June 18, 2010

Lady MacBeth's Daughter

Lady Macbeth's Daughter is a new take of Macbeth. It's written by Lisa Klein, the same author who wrote Ophelia. I never really appreciated Macbeth when I read it in high school. However, four years ago I subbed for an English teacher for two months. We read Macbeth. For the first time, I really enjoyed it. The story of people so driven by power and greed that they are blind to their inhumanity. Blinded by prophecies. Ready to grasp any straw that hints of their superiority. Throughout it all, you can't help but remember that in the beginning, Macbeth and Lady Macbeth seem pretty normal and kind of nice. Logical. Upward climbing but in a rational sense. By the end, so much death, blood, and cruelty has occurred at their hands. I've never bothered to add up how many died: Duncan, Banquo, MacDuff's children...

However, this review is about Lady Macbeth's Daughter. The book is told from the first person perspectives of Lady Macbeth (whose name is Grelach in the book), and Albia, her daughter. Albia was born crippled. Macbeth ordered the baby to be left for the wolves. Grelach's maid rescues the child and brings her to her sisters' home. These three sisters are the weird witches of the play. The oldest sister prophecies that Albia has the second sight, but Albia does not want to accept her gifts. Regardless, Albia grows up living a pleasant country life until she is a teenager, where she is sent to train as a lady's maid at Banquo's house. Up until this point, Albia is a flightly, one-dimensional teen with a slightly odd home life. Honestly, I had little interest in Albia until romance blossomed between her and Fleance, Banquo's son. Albia becomes stronger when she learns of her true heritage and vows to avenge her father. Eventually, she begins to accept her second sight, but this ability felt like an easy out: an easy vehicle that enabled Klein to get Albia involved in Dunsinore. She becomes slightly more compelling regarding the battle of Dunsinore, but not much.

I enjoyed Klein's portrayal of Lady Macbeth much more. Klein has given LM children: one alive and one lost. She a mother overwhelmed by the loss of her daughter. She spends a lot of time depressed. This does not seem to be the Lady Macbeth of the play - specifically the beginning. What I did especially like about this version of LM is constantly aware of her precarious situation as a woman: always eager to stay in Macbeth's favor. This seems very realistic given the time period, when a woman's fate was that of her husband's whims.

The LM in the book portrays more of her maternal/feminine side. The masculinity that she displays in the Shakespeare's play is not evident enough to make not of. Klein's LM is the one who would say (as she said in Shakespeare's play)

"I have given suck, and know/How tender 'tis to love the babe that milks me..."

But not the LM who continued on by saying "I would, while it was smiling in my face,/Have pluck'd my nipple from his boneless gums,/And dash'd the brains out, had I so sworn as you/ Have done to this..."

The book contains bits of the above lines, but loses the full violent impact:

"I know how tender it is to love the babe that milks me. But my body has betrayed me, refusing to bring forth any more life. Now it is time to use death as my means." (63)

LM's insanity is downplayed, and I don't recall any "Out damned spot" moment either. And LM lives! That was disappointing, too. The ending was just too sweet: Albia and LM reunite to repair their broken relationship.

All in all, I appreciated Lady Macbeth's view points and the battle scenes, but little else appealled to me. However, I think this is a great companion piece for those who have read Macbeth or will be reading it shortly. In addition, if you really like Ophelia by Klein, you will probably enjoy this one, too.

Grade: C+

(Painting of Lady Macbeth by John Singer Sargent (1889), one of my favorite painters.)