Annotations

Hurray for snow days; I get to get my grad school work done!

Bruchac, Joseph. (2005). Code Talker. New York: Penguin Group. ISBN: 0-14-240596-5.

This historical fiction novel tells the story of Navajo Marines during World War II, and how they helped win the war by sending messages in a code that the enemy couldn’t crack. While the book does a nice job highlighting universal themes, such as “No matter who they are, people can always learn from each other,” there are many instances where the conflicts are resolved too easily and cleanly to make a novel that is supposed to be about one of the worst wars in history believable.

Cisneros, Sandra. (1991). The House on Mango Street. New York: Vintage Books. ISBN: 0-679-73477-5.

A beautiful story told through vignettes, Esperanza Cordero comes of age in an urban, Latino neighborhood in Chicago. Each vignette tells its own story, but Cisneros artfully weaves them together so that by the end, the reader sees how Esperanza’s experiences as an adolescent motivate her to become an independent woman.

Covey, Sean. (1998). The Seven Habits of Highly Effective Teens. New York: Fireside. ISBN: 0-684-85609-3.

This is a book that speaks to teens, through personal anecdotes, cartoons, charts, and straight-up advice about how to be successful at life. While the concept is commendable, the delivery is forced. It is doubtful that a teen that needs to read this book will listen (after all, teens are stubborn when it comes to changing their ways), and the teens that do read this book are probably already using the seven habits that Covey explicates.

Gaiman, Neil. (2002). Coraline. Ill: Dave McKean. New York: Scholastic Inc. ISBN: 0-439-57688-1.

This fantasy book nicely builds suspense without getting too scary for young readers. Coraline, a girl who is often bored and feels ignored by her parents, moves into a new apartment flat. She quickly discovers a magical passage to the flat next door, which is almost identical to the world she knows. When she can’t return, however, she eventually learns to appreciate her parents for the loving, yet detached people that they are, and that she does not need to have everything she wants when she wants it.

Podcast review

My choice poetry book was A Wreath for Emmett Till, by Marilyn Nelson. It is a unique piece, written in a complex sonnet form, with intriguing illustrations by Philippe Lardy. I paired my recorded review with Billie Holliday's song "Strange Fruit," as they share similar themes. The podcast is below:

Persepolis

Every time I read something about the Middle East, fiction or non-fiction, I realize how much more I need to learn. Marjane Satrapi’s graphic novel Persepolis is no exception. Her retelling of her childhood in the late 1970s-early 1980s in Tehran, Iran vividly brings to life what it was like to grow up as an Iranian citizen.

In many ways, her stories were just like any other child who grows up in a war zone: Bombings in neighborhoods, friends and family members leaving the country, demonstrations, government-regulated dress codes, and confusion about what everyone is fighting for and believes in. What really rang true was how different social classes are affected by war. Satrapi discovers that “The key to paradise was for poor people. Thousands of young kids, promised a better life, exploded on the minefields with their keys around their necks…meanwhile, I got to go to my first party. Not only did my mom let me go, she also knitted me a sweater full of holes and made me a necklace with chains and nails. Punk rock was in” (102). As are most cases, in Iran, the poor people become soldiers while the rich people remain relatively protected during wars.

I was thoroughly intrigued by Satrapi’s family. The stories about her grandfather, uncles, and even her parents were almost unbelievable, especially the part when Uncle Taher died because he wasn’t granted a passport fast enough to get the required medical attention he needed. The way those few pages read seemed like I was watching a movie unfold. I also fell in love with Satrapi’s parents. I loved that her father explains things to her when asked, and he doesn’t avoid any “tough” questions. I laughed out loud when he sasses the female teacher: “If hair is as stimulating as you say, then you need to shave your mustache!” (98). How funny is that?! Her mother is also endearing; thinking of how to smuggle the posters back from Turkey, and letting her go shopping on her own. Even though it broke my heart when they send her away to Vienna at the end of the novel, I silently commended them for giving their daughter the chance to continue her education. “There’s a French school in Vienna. One of the best in Europe!...You’re fourteen and I know how I brought you up. Above all, I trust your education” (147). As a teacher, I wish more parents invested more interest in their children’s education.

What I really enjoyed about Persepolis is how Satrapi portrays her and her family’s perceptions of other parts of the world so honestly, even if it might offend the reader. There are references to Satrapi role-playing as Fidel Castro and Che Guevara; her uncle claims “Russians aren’t like us…it’s hearts they don’t have. They don’t know how to love” (59); and there are stories of how the British were behind the Shah gaining power. No matter what one believes, a reader is at least exposed to varying frames of reference after reading this book.

American Born Chinese

I remember sometime around when I was in middle school, I asked a classmate “what she was.” After she gave me an odd look, I continued, “Well, are you Chinese or Japanese?” She laughed awkwardly at me, and told me that she was Korean, actually. That’s my first memory of realizing that there was a lot I needed to learn about cultures that were not my own. I mean, I don’t even think I knew that Korea existed when I had that conversation that I now cringe at when remembering my own ignorance.

Gene Luen Yang’s graphic novel, American Born Chinese, illustrates other instances of white ignorance, from the perspective of young American Chinese students, Jin Wang and Wei-Chen. Some characters I found incredibly offensive, such as Timmy who crudely jokes about Asians using derogatory terms. There is also Greg, who appears to be a nice student who is simply unsure whether to side with Timmy or accept Jin. It becomes painfully clear that he doesn’t accept Jin when he asks that he not take Amelia out again. “It’s just that she’s a good friend and I want to make sure that she makes good choices, you know? We’re almost in high school. She has to start paying attention to who she hangs out with” (179). Greg tries to explain himself civilly, but his message breaks Jin’s heart. He’ll never be accepted into Amelia’s group as long as he’s Chinese. How sad. And, how true is this portrayal of American middle/high school behavior? Pretty true, I think.

Realizing that one is different is a theme throughout the novel. “When he entered his royal chamber, the thick smell of monkey fur greeted him. He’d never noticed it before” (20). The Monkey King never noticed the smell before, because no one had ever pointed it out to him. People usually don’t know they’re different until someone points it out to them, and then it can be hard to accept oneself. I appreciated how the three seemingly unrelated plot lines wove together by the end with this idea. The lesson of “it’s easy to become anything you wish…so long as you’re willing to forfeit your soul” (29) is learned by Jin/Danny, Wei-Chen, and the Monkey King in their own situations. All three attempt to assimilate into a culture that isn’t theirs, yet all three learn eventually to embrace their culture. Even though this lesson is taught from an American Chinese perspective, it is a universal theme; after all, who hasn’t tried to change themselves at least once to fit in?

That is one reason why I would love the opportunity to teach this novel in a high school setting: the theme reverberates with readers. Also, graphic novels are becoming increasingly popular with young readers. Reading the images as well as the words I would assume give them a “double-dose” of messages they’ve been told for years: be tolerant of those who are different; be a loyal friend; and be sure to wear deodorant during a first date. The subtle humor that Yang uses is evident from the first scene: “Your peaches are looking especially plump today, my dear!” (7), which I know would engage high school readers even more than the themes. Because of Yang’s writing style, I know that I wouldn’t have to work as hard to get students hooked, and then once they read the book, then we could get back to those (more?) important life lessons.