Showing posts with label nonfiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label nonfiction. Show all posts

Monday, September 7, 2009

Just take those old books off the shelf


Though I might be the last person on the planet to read Shelf Discovery: The Teen Classics We Never Stopped Reading by Lizzie Skurnick, I've been a fan of Skurnick's Fine Lines feature at Jezebel almost since it debuted. Fine Lines is one of those terrific ideas where you read it, kick yourself, and say, "Why didn't I think of that?" For non-Jezebel readers, Fine Lines is a weekly feature that recaps a classic YA novel from the 1960's, '70's, or '80's (I know, right? Genius!), and Shelf Discovery is the book of recaps. It also has guest contributions from authors including Meg Cabot, Cecily von Ziegesar, Jennifer Weiner, and Margo Rabb.

Skurnick, the original Book Thief, writes from her personal collection of vintage YA novels, dividing the book into chapters like "She's at that Age: Girls on the Verge" and "You Heard it Here First: Very Afterschool Specials," highlighting ten books per chapter, give or take. Because this book is a memoir and not an analysis of reading, Skurnick recaps the books that are near and dear to her heart...which are also books that are near and dear to the hearts of many Gen X women. Those are the people Skurnick speaks to, rather than the librarians and academics of YA literature. Reading her writing makes me feel like I'm talking to a really cool, smart friend who understands how much these books formed our worlds when we were teens (and younger). We're older and wiser now, and we can look at things like Harriet Welsch's growing empathy in Harriet the Spy and the ultimately bleak endings of Blubber and The Cat Ate My Gymsuit with an eye for literary technique, but ultimately, we are still ten years old and reading these books, reacting to them viscerally and re-reading with hunger. Reading Skurnick makes me unafraid to giggle and gasp and OMG as I read Go Ask Alice and Flowers in the Attic. I confess I've only read about half the books in Shelf Discovery, but Skurnick's writing makes me want to go pick up many more. (Except Island of the Blue Dolphins. No force on this earth will ever make me believe that book is anything but deathly boring.)

After I read, I got to thinking about the roles that parents, friends, and imagination play in these novels of decades past. The part of me newly indoctrinated into the children's publishing business wonders how many of these books could be published today, just as they are save for a few technology and fashion updates. Then again, in some of these books, technology updates would wreck the plot. A lot has changed in terms of pop culture, technology, parenting, and the idea of independence, which are all things that govern the background of YA literature. The books in Shelf Discovery all give indication as to some of the people who are writing, editing, and selling YA today. Which gives me hope for the genre. Well, not just hope...knowledge that a passion for books will pass on to future generations.

Now what I'd really love to see a the version of Shelf Discovery in 2020.

Thursday, September 3, 2009

Methland by Nick Reding

Lately I have this crazy way of picking out books to review: If it looks interesting, I pick it up. I'm a bit of a crime buff and I usually read nonfiction when reading adult books. That brings me to today's review, for Methland by Nick Reding.

For four years, Reding tracked the effects of meth in Oelwein, Iowa, which has been referred to as the meth capital of the world. Of course, about 70 other towns have this distinction, too, but this is Oelwein's story. Many of Oelwein's residents work in agriculture, and came to meth because it gave them the stamina to last through multiple shifts in agriculture factories, shifts they needed to stay afloat financially. Meth has two properties that make it a problem that can swallow a small, economically disadvantaged town: It's easy to make and one of the most addictive substances on the planet. Reding doesn't spare a lot of details about meth's effects on the body and what can happen when meth manufacturing goes terribly wrong. (Given that meth manufacturers make meth from cold pills and hazardous chemicals with highly flammable residue, this occurrence is not uncommon.) Reding's protagonist is Nathan Lein, a county prosecutor who deals with the fallout from local -- which becomes national and international -- drug use and trafficking.

Even though I have never lived in a small town or known anyone affected by meth, I felt the desperation Reding writes about in terms of small-town economies and how the battle against meth is constantly uphill. Oelwein was home to one of the country's first meth empires, built by a woman who couldn't kick meth even after years in federal prison. What makes this book a success is Reding's appeal to the heart rather than to the mind. He shows readers how laws meant to stop the production of meth have done practically nothing. He makes us feel the strain on Oelwein's population and knows that there's no one singular cause for its meth problem. In parts I wanted more, but I also realize that it's hard to fit four years' worth of research into one 275-page book.


Methlandbook.com || NY Times review || Methland page at Bloomsbury USA

Thursday, July 3, 2008


As a longtime Harry Potter fan, I'm used to seeing books and essay collections analyzing my favorite teen books. While Stephenie Meyer's Twilight books are far from being my favorites, I was intrigued to see an essay collection about it, published by Teen Libris. A New Dawn is part of a collection of books analyzing popular teen series, including one the Percy Jackson and the Olympians books called Demigods and Monsters (which I am absolutely dying to read, as I love and adore the Percy Jackson books) and the Inheritance trilogy cycle.

What's in A New Dawn: Thirteen essays by YA authors of varying popularity tackle themes of romance, vampires and werewolves in literary tradition, morality, the neverending question of whether Edward Cullen is the greatest boyfriend in literature or an out-and-out sociopath (my vote is firmly with sociopath!), and self-sacrifice. I think the essays are aimed at teen readers, but the formality and academic voice of each essay varies greatly. The essays all have inviting titles like "My Boyfriend Sparkles," showing that even though these are analytical essays, they're meant to be conversational as well. The strongest essay in the book is Ellen Steiber's "Tall, Dark, and... Thirsty?" which discusses the history of vampire legends and how they cross into romance, even citing other YA vampire books when talking about the vampire as loner. It also brings to the forefront the thing I have always found the most unsettling about the Twilight series, that being Bella's complete lack of a sense of self. Robin Brande's essay, "Edward, Heathcliff, and Our Other Secret Boyfriends," is written with her signature sense of breezy fun and although I didn't agree with a single word in it, I enjoyed reading it. Cassandra Clare and Rachel Caine use alternate formats, letters and scripts, respectively, to convey their ideas. Janette Rallison gets extra points for briefly discussing Carlisle Cullen, who I think is probably the most interesting character in the books (and not just because his name, like mine, is Carlisle).

Who will read this book?: YA lit nerds. No, seriously. I am one of them, and I fully embrace it. Twilight fandomers will probably be drawn to this as well, but you'll note I said fandomers, which not all readers are. I just can't see the average teen Twilight fan wanting to read past the first two, maybe three essays, but it's entirely possible that I'm underestimating the average Twilight fan, especially considering that when I finished New Moon I said, "I am neither Team Edward nor Team Jacob; I am team 'Edward and Jacob should run off with each other and leave that simpering nobody Bella alone for the rest of her life.'" I do see where the book's popularity comes from, and I think that using more colloquial and less academic language, plus the draw of the names of the YA authors, will make A New Dawn appealing to the die-hard fans who want to show that their obsession with Meyer's books goes further than just "this is a really good book." The only drawback to this book is that it's written on an open canon and doesn't do much for covering what might happen in the books. Speculation was always the best part of being in the Harry Potter fandom, and reading academic works on Potter speculation always taught me much about plotting. I'd almost like to see this collection revisited once the canon is closed, just to see how much of it holds up (though I believe much of it will, because it focuses more on literary tradition than book events).

Would I buy it for my library? Yes, if I had a nest of die-hard Twilight fans, or perhaps local teachers who wanted more reasons to incorporate modern YA lit into their curricula. It's one of those books I'd give a 2P in VOYA, "for the reader with a special interest in the subject," which to be fair holds true for a lot of nonfiction.

So, in short? This essay collection doesn't suck.