Patrick Ness's A Monster Calls brings together all of the fine literary things. Graphic depictions alongside poignant storytelling, with a backstory to the novel itself that brings both levity and authenticity, Ness's rendition of Siobhan Dowd's idea is truly depressing and beautiful. (I hope we have all read enough of or about this book to forgo a summary. If not, try here.)
This book scared the crap out of me. That said, I would love to see how this type of collaboration might influence young readers/artists! I apologize if I'm getting too off-topic for a book blog, but I am just too excited about how many types of summative assessments one could do with a book like this. Students could work together to create a comprehensive story, with narrative, images, even sound! Ross's book trailer definitely inspires an assortment of activities wherein students could awaken the monster of Conor's world -- through video, stop-animation, pictorial depiction, or even comic book format. Students could work individually or together to tell their own personal stories.The possibilities are awesomely limitless...because grown people decided to work together (without even meeting face-to-face). If that's not excellent modeling, I don't know what is.
Cassandra's YA Lit Blog
Friday, June 29, 2012
Looking for a Reason...
Jay Asher's Th1rteen R3easons Why is a unique and appealing book that addresses the hot topic of teen suicide through the posthumous voice of Hannah Baker. Hannah's tapes explaining the role of the thirteen people who contributed to her depression, which led to her suicide, are a bit unrealistic (audio tapes? Really?), but the message is clear. Adolescents and adults alike could learn a lot from this book, because each small action builds to a larger one. Consequences reach great depths, especially when death is involved.
So how would we deal with this in a classroom? Suicide is a very real tragedy that has swept through many cities over the past few years. How has technology impacted our youth and their perception of life? How can our own experiences with suicide and death be a type of guidance or comfort to our students? When my sister was a sophomore (and I was in the seventh grade), one of her classmates committed suicide. He was a popular boy, quiet, with older siblings and a seemingly happy home. The fallout in our small rural school was huge. Eventually, of course, 'normalcy' returned, the guidance counselor's office wasn't overflowing, and the sobs in the hallway were fewer and further between. This was fifteen years ago. While we change memes like we change clothing, so too would one expect for our interests to wane in the wake of tragedy. But I still wonder how this type of topic is perceived... Our students will be exposed to all sorts of negative, life-altering experiences and situations. Our role is to help prevent those as much as possible. Asher's novel provides the insight and vicarious experience that can help students in ways that we can't.
So how would we deal with this in a classroom? Suicide is a very real tragedy that has swept through many cities over the past few years. How has technology impacted our youth and their perception of life? How can our own experiences with suicide and death be a type of guidance or comfort to our students? When my sister was a sophomore (and I was in the seventh grade), one of her classmates committed suicide. He was a popular boy, quiet, with older siblings and a seemingly happy home. The fallout in our small rural school was huge. Eventually, of course, 'normalcy' returned, the guidance counselor's office wasn't overflowing, and the sobs in the hallway were fewer and further between. This was fifteen years ago. While we change memes like we change clothing, so too would one expect for our interests to wane in the wake of tragedy. But I still wonder how this type of topic is perceived... Our students will be exposed to all sorts of negative, life-altering experiences and situations. Our role is to help prevent those as much as possible. Asher's novel provides the insight and vicarious experience that can help students in ways that we can't.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
The Graphic Nature of History
The 9/11 Report: A Graphic Adaptation is a wonderful cross-genre work that provides government-level insight into the complex systems that brought about the attacks in 2001. Any person interested in history, violence and government fallibility would enjoy this adaptation of the 9/11 Commission Report.
I had a difficult time reading this for a few reasons. The first was due to that blessed form of narcissistic nostalgia -- the "where were you when this unfortunate, history-making event occurred?" reaction. Just as many of the novels I have read for this course have taken me to back in the day, so too did the 9/11 Report; this response to the novel disturbed me because I doubt that a group of students who were not alive when the attacks occurred would give a rat's behind about how I was in Spanish class watching the towers burn. While the reaction is fine, and does not mean that I would have to share that aspect of my personal history with students, the fact that this response came so quickly after beginning reading the report bothered me.
The second reason this book was difficult for me was because I like to question the government (look at me, I'm subversive!), and the government messed up big-time here. Let's face it, the U.S. has a pretty gross history of, well, pretty much everything (don't worry, I'm not going to get all Howard Zinn on you...). So, it is a bit frustrating to learn about the multitude of ways that the attacks could have been prevented. I guess this would be a good "what-if" inquiry to pose to students. It also serves to ask, Does it solve anything to hypothesize an alternate history? This would be an interesting conversation to have with our Social Studies peers.
Overall, 9/11 Report is great. It is filled with a LOT of information and excellent artwork. The tragedy of September 11 defined our modern country...but the events have been commercialized to such an extent that I doubt future students will know much about the actual facts of the attacks. This provides them a chance to learn some truth.
I had a difficult time reading this for a few reasons. The first was due to that blessed form of narcissistic nostalgia -- the "where were you when this unfortunate, history-making event occurred?" reaction. Just as many of the novels I have read for this course have taken me to back in the day, so too did the 9/11 Report; this response to the novel disturbed me because I doubt that a group of students who were not alive when the attacks occurred would give a rat's behind about how I was in Spanish class watching the towers burn. While the reaction is fine, and does not mean that I would have to share that aspect of my personal history with students, the fact that this response came so quickly after beginning reading the report bothered me.
The second reason this book was difficult for me was because I like to question the government (look at me, I'm subversive!), and the government messed up big-time here. Let's face it, the U.S. has a pretty gross history of, well, pretty much everything (don't worry, I'm not going to get all Howard Zinn on you...). So, it is a bit frustrating to learn about the multitude of ways that the attacks could have been prevented. I guess this would be a good "what-if" inquiry to pose to students. It also serves to ask, Does it solve anything to hypothesize an alternate history? This would be an interesting conversation to have with our Social Studies peers.
Overall, 9/11 Report is great. It is filled with a LOT of information and excellent artwork. The tragedy of September 11 defined our modern country...but the events have been commercialized to such an extent that I doubt future students will know much about the actual facts of the attacks. This provides them a chance to learn some truth.
Monday, June 18, 2012
An Appetite for Heartbreak (Hunger Games with spoilers!)
I sat down on Sunday morning at about 11am with The Hunger Games. Around 7pm, I finished the book. 8 hours of straight reading (with some snack breaks, of course) proves to me that this book is well written, well executed and well...pretty much super duper awesome! Katniss is a great character, rich with depth and inner conflict. The violence of the novel was, honestly, a little more tame than I expected. I understand why Katniss wasn't the bloodthirsty killer that the Careers had been trained to be, but I couldn't help but wonder how many sixteen-year-old trained hunters would be able to justify actively killing the other tributes. I suppose that would be a great prompt in a lit circle/book club/reading group of some sort.
Brace yourself, reader, because I absolutely LOVE how the romance storyline was handled! I enjoy the fact that Katniss is adapting to her environment by working the star-crossed lovers angle, while she is looking out primarily for herself and her family. Yes, she cares about Peeta, just as she cares for Gale, but she understands her lot in life all too well, and her reticence to marry/start a family is completely comprehensible. The fact is, she is strong enough to work alone; she learns, of course, that it's best to work together. The transformation on the train ride back to District 12, when Katniss washes off her make-up and resumes her base identity, that with which she is most comfortable and familiar, is absolutely beautiful. Suzanne Collins writes with ease and captures the confusion of teenage life with aplomb.
I am excited to see how the movie handles the complexity of the novel. And I want to see the action!
Brace yourself, reader, because I absolutely LOVE how the romance storyline was handled! I enjoy the fact that Katniss is adapting to her environment by working the star-crossed lovers angle, while she is looking out primarily for herself and her family. Yes, she cares about Peeta, just as she cares for Gale, but she understands her lot in life all too well, and her reticence to marry/start a family is completely comprehensible. The fact is, she is strong enough to work alone; she learns, of course, that it's best to work together. The transformation on the train ride back to District 12, when Katniss washes off her make-up and resumes her base identity, that with which she is most comfortable and familiar, is absolutely beautiful. Suzanne Collins writes with ease and captures the confusion of teenage life with aplomb.
I am excited to see how the movie handles the complexity of the novel. And I want to see the action!
Friday, June 15, 2012
Between Books, But...
So I finished my most recent book earlier this week, and had many projects and presentations to prepare for tomorrow's class, plus a life to live, and as a result...I have not begun my next book. And that was partially on purpose, for my next book is The Hunger Games, and word on the street is that THG is straight-up Pringles: once you pop, you can't stop. I am very excited to delve into this novel (thanks, Emily, for amping me up!), but am enjoying the chance to take a breather from the avid reading.
Speaking of which, has anyone noticed that a fair amount of the narrators in these books claim to be avid readers? So far I have read Shine, I Am The Messenger, and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, and in each of those novels the narrator/protagonist is a self-proclaimed book nerd. Now, my favorite book of ALL TIME is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, so I am quite familiar with the quiet-bookish-loner-type, but how might this characteristic be perceived by students, especially those who do NOT enjoy reading? Does anyone think this could be a possibly alienating trait for a hesitant reader? Does it bother anyone else like it does me that some of these characters seem to be the product of a "Create Your Character" boardgame? "You read Moby Dick for the fifth time. Collect one hundred nerd points and solve the nautical mystery in your hometown." I have a lot of books and bookshelves, and I don't participate in Goodreads as much as I could because I forget how many and which books I have read...but I would not call myself a book nerd. What do you readers think?
Speaking of which, has anyone noticed that a fair amount of the narrators in these books claim to be avid readers? So far I have read Shine, I Am The Messenger, and The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, and in each of those novels the narrator/protagonist is a self-proclaimed book nerd. Now, my favorite book of ALL TIME is A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, so I am quite familiar with the quiet-bookish-loner-type, but how might this characteristic be perceived by students, especially those who do NOT enjoy reading? Does anyone think this could be a possibly alienating trait for a hesitant reader? Does it bother anyone else like it does me that some of these characters seem to be the product of a "Create Your Character" boardgame? "You read Moby Dick for the fifth time. Collect one hundred nerd points and solve the nautical mystery in your hometown." I have a lot of books and bookshelves, and I don't participate in Goodreads as much as I could because I forget how many and which books I have read...but I would not call myself a book nerd. What do you readers think?
Wednesday, June 13, 2012
He's Got Spirit, Yes He Do
Anytime I encounter Sherman Alexie and his work, I want more of it. That is how I feel after finishing The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. When I first picked up the book, I thought it was going to be, in fact, the true diary of Alexie's young life on the Spokane Reservation ("the rez"). In fact, the story follows Arnold Spirit, Jr., a 14-year-old misfit who determines that, to have a better life with some actual hope, he must leave his reservation school and attend the all-white small-town school more than twenty miles away. The novel covers the first year that Arnold attends high school, with everything from the big basketball game against his former classmates on the rez (who all hate him for betraying the tribe by attending the white school) to the many deaths that surround the rez, nearly all of which are the result of alcohol abuse.
This is probably one of the most authentic novels I have read thus far for this course. Yes, there are boners and mention of masturbation. There are drunks and plenty of violence. There's sports! And there is no lack of the sharp, incisive humor that Alexie executes without breaking a sweat, made even richer by Ellen Forney's clever artwork which peppers the novel. Arnold struggles with his identity in a way that is familiar to all puberty-stricken youths, but his is a unique perspective on the usual trope. He falls in love with a white girl, loses his best friend, and rarely has food in the house. His father disappears on drinking binges, and his sister hides in the basement of their home for three years, reading romance novels. Much to my mood-altering annoyance, I have had little choice but to revisit the emotions of adolescence while we read through the novels for this course, but Alexie's book reminded me of the humor in the awkward, the poignancy of harsh reality, and the hope that springs forth from such a dire phase of life.
"I used to think the world was broken down by tribes. By black and white. By Indian and white. But I know that isn't true. The world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are assholes and the people who are not."
What a great observation to share!
This is probably one of the most authentic novels I have read thus far for this course. Yes, there are boners and mention of masturbation. There are drunks and plenty of violence. There's sports! And there is no lack of the sharp, incisive humor that Alexie executes without breaking a sweat, made even richer by Ellen Forney's clever artwork which peppers the novel. Arnold struggles with his identity in a way that is familiar to all puberty-stricken youths, but his is a unique perspective on the usual trope. He falls in love with a white girl, loses his best friend, and rarely has food in the house. His father disappears on drinking binges, and his sister hides in the basement of their home for three years, reading romance novels. Much to my mood-altering annoyance, I have had little choice but to revisit the emotions of adolescence while we read through the novels for this course, but Alexie's book reminded me of the humor in the awkward, the poignancy of harsh reality, and the hope that springs forth from such a dire phase of life.
"I used to think the world was broken down by tribes. By black and white. By Indian and white. But I know that isn't true. The world is only broken into two tribes: The people who are assholes and the people who are not."
What a great observation to share!
Friday, June 8, 2012
I've got a message for YOU
Just moments ago, I finished Markus Zusak's I Am The Messenger, and I am reborn! No, not really, but I am excited about this novel. The writing is clever, witty, and pretty raunchy at times. Even more endearing is that the story takes place in an Australian suburb. 20-year-old cab driver Ed Kennedy has a basic, ordinary routine in his life. He drives cab in the nearby city, he plays cards with his three closest (possibly only?) friends a few times a week, and he spends the rest of his time drinking coffee with his stinky dog. Yeah, the dog drinks coffee. And he stinks to high heaven. Ed's life changes in a flash when, after interceding in a bungled bank robbery, he receives an Ace of Diamonds in the mail. The playing card has three addresses scribbled on it. And the game is on.
This book is an excellent read! It has cursing, drinking, a fair amount of violence, and of course, sentimentality. Zusak has scripted a realistic portrait of a wide variety of characters, and though I am once again disappointed in the ending (notice a theme, anyone?), I would recommend this book to any reader. The messages delivered by Ed are not easy to swallow, and the moral/ethical dilemmas that drive the novel are beautifully woven together. In fact, I would love to read this novel alongside the advocacy unit I created for Deb's class. The impact that one person can have on a life, on a family, on a community is an important theme for students (and pretty much everyone) to explore.
The swearing and violence could be problematic with conservative readers (ahem, those parents), to which I have but one thing to say: the text is authentic to the bone. When we sit in a room with our closest, dearest friends, we do not wax poetic in flowery language as we divulge our innermost secrets. We laugh, we jostle, we provoke, and we curse! Well, at least my friends and I carry on that way. If words like "shithouse" and "twisted bastard" are too harsh for a reader, s/he can put the book back on the shelf. If those words sound strikingly familiar to a reader, then we know the novel is a good fit. More importantly, we know that the language supports the telling of Ed's story, and isn't vulgar for the sake of itself.
Well done, Markus. Well done.
This book is an excellent read! It has cursing, drinking, a fair amount of violence, and of course, sentimentality. Zusak has scripted a realistic portrait of a wide variety of characters, and though I am once again disappointed in the ending (notice a theme, anyone?), I would recommend this book to any reader. The messages delivered by Ed are not easy to swallow, and the moral/ethical dilemmas that drive the novel are beautifully woven together. In fact, I would love to read this novel alongside the advocacy unit I created for Deb's class. The impact that one person can have on a life, on a family, on a community is an important theme for students (and pretty much everyone) to explore.
The swearing and violence could be problematic with conservative readers (ahem, those parents), to which I have but one thing to say: the text is authentic to the bone. When we sit in a room with our closest, dearest friends, we do not wax poetic in flowery language as we divulge our innermost secrets. We laugh, we jostle, we provoke, and we curse! Well, at least my friends and I carry on that way. If words like "shithouse" and "twisted bastard" are too harsh for a reader, s/he can put the book back on the shelf. If those words sound strikingly familiar to a reader, then we know the novel is a good fit. More importantly, we know that the language supports the telling of Ed's story, and isn't vulgar for the sake of itself.
Well done, Markus. Well done.
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