Another term, another blog

Blog posts from here on in will be in regards to a course I'm taking this term: LIS 9751 Issues in Distance Learning for Academic and Public Libraries.  Previous posts were written for the Young Adult Materials course I took in the Winter 2011 term.  Feel free to peruse if you wish, though there's nothing too insightful or interesting down there!

Twilight cartoon mentioned in class today

If anyone's still looking at these blogs, here's a link the Twilight cartoon/commentary Kelsey and I were talking about in class today:
http://theoatmeal.com/story/twilight

Review 2: No Safe Place by Deborah Ellis

No Safe Place

Deborah Ellis

Toronto, Ontario: Groundwood Books / House of Anansi Press, 2010.

205 pp., pbk., $12.95.

ISBN 978-0-88899-974-0.

Grades 9 and up / Ages 13 and up.

Review by Sheela Sur.

****/4

excerpt:

     The small concrete yard was empty in the heat of the day, so Abdul had no problem crossing it and letting himself out through the high metal fence that separated the house from the street.

     He stepped into a city he didn’t recognize.

     It was as though God had picked up the world, shaken it madly, then let it fall through His fingers and scatter on the ground.

     The houses immediately around Abdul’s house all had pieces missing.  One had a huge hole in the roof.  Another had a hole in the wall.  Another had collapsed altogether.  There were big chunks of cement and glass everywhere.

Deborah Ellis’s No Safe Place is the story of three teenaged migrants who have travelled illegally from their home countries and, brought together by a corrupt smuggler, make the final stretch of their journey to England together in October 2009. 

     Ellis tells the harrowing tales of Abdul, a fifteen-year-old boy with a passion for song-writing who flees Baghdad after witnessing the violent murders of his father, mother, and best friend; Rosalia, a strong-willed Roma girl who escapes from northern Berlin after being sold to a brothel; and Cheslav, a gifted musician who refuses to face the brutality and suppression of a Russian military academy. 

  

   Their stories are believable and heartbreaking.  Ellis, author of The Breadwinner Trilogy, continues to expand the reader’s knowledge of the challenges that are faced by too many young people around the world every day.  The action is fast-paced but the characters are still given ample room for development.  This novel will work for the socially conscious reader, in the political science classroom, and as a riveting story for the teen reluctant to read.  However, the ending does not provide a tidy resolution and should not be read by someone hoping for a “happily ever after.” 

Highly recommended

Find No Safe Place at the London Public Library (Click here!)

The Virgin Suicides: A crossover book with a media tie-in

Talking about crossover books got me thinking about The Virgin Suicides, the subject of my digital booktalk video.  Not only is this adult book enjoyed by teens, but it has also been made into a movie!  The film is written and directed by Sofia Coppolla.  The script uses mostly excerpts from the book which makes it fun to watch if you've already read the book, and makes the book fun to read if you've already seen the movie.  I'm going to copy the link to my booktalk and my write-up for the assignment for those of you who want to know more:

Video: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7pV6XdcdbNM


Eugenides, Jeffrey. The Virgin Suicides. New York: Warner Books, 1994. 

Cecilia Lisbon, the thirteen-year-old youngest of five daughters, sends her quiet 1970s suburban neighbourhood reeling when she attempts suicide by slitting her wrists.  Though unsuccessful, her suicide attempt prompts the entire neighbourhood, especially the narrating group of teen boys, to increase their scrutiny of the already somewhat reclusive and mysterious Lisbon family.  Encouraged by Cecilia’s psychiatrist to increase their daughters’ social activity, Mr. and Mrs. Lisbon throw a co-ed party for Cecilia and their other girls (Lux, age 14; Bonnie, 15; Mary, 16; and Therese, 17).  However, this first and only Lisbon party ends in tragedy as Cecilia succeeds at ending her life by jumping from her second-story bedroom window and landing on an iron-spiked fence. 

Though their house begins to fall into disrepair as they deal with their grief, the Lisbons appear to return to a normal, everyday life.  The girls return to school in the fall and Mr. Lisbon continues his position as a high school math teacher. He even agrees to allow Trip Fontaine, teen heart throb, to take Lux to the homecoming dance (on the grounds that Trip finds dates for the remaining three girls).  But when Lux fails to make curfew the Lisbon house goes into a complete lockdown.  The girls are taken out of school and Mr. Lisbon eventually leaves his job.  The narrating boys manage to catch glimpses of the girls through windows and spy on Lux’s midnight trysts with local men on the roof.  After a brief correspondence, the girls invite the boys to their house, supposedly to run away with them.  However, the boys have actually been invited over to be witnesses to the girls’ dramatic final act, as they all commit suicide simultaneously in various ways throughout the house.

Told through the collective voice of a group of middle aged men remembering their days with the girls (the ambiguity of the narrators makes them become almost as mysterious as the Lisbon girls), The Virgin Suicides haunts the reader with a sense of poetic beauty, undying obsession, and the intensity of teenagehood.  The men recall the “year of the suicides” through their own firsthand accounts, interviews conducted with numerous characters, and exhibits of personal belongings collected from the Lisbon house. 

In his debut novel, Eugenides successfully creates the world of a 1970s suburb as it falls victim to the diseases of urban sprawl, environment change, and teen suicide.  He creates real, multi-dimensional characters, and his beautiful prose makes every word interesting and compelling to read.

            Though this book was not necessarily written for young adults, the subject matter and writing style can be appreciated by mature high school readers (age 16 and up).

A little post about dystopia and YA fiction.

Sorry folks: no deep, meaningful stuff from me tonight.  I read Susan Beth Pfeffer's The Dead and the Gone recently.  At first it was really creepy, then it got kind of boring, then it ended and I was disappointed.  I am not a fan.

What creeped me out was that in my experience, dystopian literature takes place in some far-off future where something catastrophic happened or the current political/technological climate came into being a long time ago.  The Dead and the Gone seems to be set today, and the novel starts on the day that the world-changing catastrophe happens.  For this reason I found the first few chapters pretty hard (emotionally) to get through, especially after the recent events in Japan.

So, the first few chapters were very effective, but I got pretty bored after that.

I also read Laura Miller's article "Fresh Hell"* and liked what she had to say, especially about dystopian fiction mirroring the young adult's high school experience.

*Miller, Laura. 2010. Fresh Hell: What’s Behind the Boom in Dystopian Fiction for Young Readers?” The New Yorker June 14.

I don't like Twilight.

This is the story of when I read Twilight.

My roommate loves Twilight.  Like, a read all the books multiple times, counts down the days to the movies, and lines up at midnight kind of love.  I was a Twilight skeptic.  I had heard bad things about the books and was sick of hearing about the movies all over my (admittedly beloved) celebrity gossip websites.   But, last summer, I had some downtime between school ending and jobs starting, was rolling around my London house looking for stuff to do, and my Twilight-loving roommate convinced me to read the first book.

So I did.

I hated it.

OK, OK, "hate" may be a strong word.  I strongly disliked the writing and really disliked a lot of the main characters.  But I understood the appeal. I was interested in the story and kept reading because I wanted to find out what happened next.  Compelled to find out what happened when the book ended, I read the second book, New Moon.

I hated it even more.

Not only was the writing bad, there was no story and the characters were even less likable.  I still get the appeal.  Spending two books with the same characters could leave a different sort of person needing/wanting to know what happens to them.  A different sort of person may enjoy reading 200+ pages about a girl who likes a guy but doesn't know where he is so she wonders where he is and kind of starts liking some other guy, but OH NO she doesn't know where the first guy is and she really likes him but she's starting to like this other guy, and he's really nice and all, but what about that first guy....

Aaaanyway, I watched the movie and, needless to say, didn't like it either.  Something about the way it was filmed (cinematography?) was ridiculous, but I did like seeing how the characters and story were represented.

So I think it's pretty clear that I don't like Twilight as a piece of literature/film.  But I do like that lots of tweens/teens like it.  It's getting "reluctant" readers to read and  encourages them to read similar books outside the series, which may lead them to an even broader range of literature.  The media tie-in makes the books accessible to an even wider audience.  I'm reading through the Margaret Mackey chapter and hope to have some more intelligent things to say soon....

Getting the Laughs: Absolutely Positively Not by David LaRochelle

I thought Absolutely Positively Not was a great book.  It was really funny without downplaying the seriousness of the main character's situation (coming out while attending high school in a small town).    It approached the topic effectively and managed to avoid predictability and cheesiness (cough - Judy Blume).  The humour made what could be an uncomfortable or embarrassing topic approachable and readable.  I thought the protagonist was realistic and charming. It's a fun read with an important message.