Scarred for Life

I have moments in my job of children's librarian of genuine and furious anger. The parent who insists their child not read graphic novels, because they're not "real books", the teen who seem to think that telling me to f**k myself is somehow ok and warranted, the people who say they don't see the point of the library as an institution, because you "can find everything with Google". And I will say, that in the public sphere I am PHE-NO-ME-NAL at hiding this; remaining calm and professional when I really want to stare in disbelief and just say "No". What truly makes me mad though, is when I realize how the librarians in my own childhood failed me.  

Unsurprisingly, I read a lot as a kid. I haunted my local library on weekends. Spent at least one night a week there, from after school until my parents came to get me when they got home around 7, participating in summer reading yearly, and generally being a face the librarians and staff knew. In the 1990s and early 2000s when I was a tween and teen, I will admit there wasn't much in the way of Tween or Teen Literature. Beyond Goosebumps, Babysitters Club, and  "issues" books, there weren't many standout
 books that were appropriate for my age and reading level. Meaning that once I raced through Ella Enchanted by Gail Carson Levine and Catherine, Called Birdy by Karen Cushman, there wasn't much else for me to fall in love with. So I moved onto adult books, with sometimes very little understanding of what I was actually reading and without the deep enjoyment that can come from reading about characters that you can relate to. Or so I thought.

Now that I'm a children's librarian I of course know about the amazing series and books that were available at that time, including the Alice books by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor, the Song of the Lioness series by Tamora Pierce, The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright, anything by E. Nesbit, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith, or any other of a multitude of books that I found on my own or though friends and colleagues as an adult or older teen. And I ask myself why weren't any of these books put into my hands? I can honestly say that I can only recall one time that one of my school librarians put a book into my hands (The Blue Sword by Robin McKinley, which I love to this day) and can never remember one of my public librarians suggesting anything to me.

And I'm sure I didn't ask, and that's ok. I was a shy kid, who was often teased and who was such a voracious reader, in part, because I didn't feel comfortable in my own world.  I've thankfully out grown that and see kids everyday who fit the same description. Which is why I approach those kids when I see them wandering in the stacks and ask if they've read this, that, or the other.  I take a note of who checks out a stack of books every week, and grab something and say that I thought they might want to give this a shot. I do this, because I recognize that such an important part of my job is to reach the reader. Especially the reader who wants desperately to be reached, but is too scared to ask.

Maybe it's me?

I've said before that I cannot claim to always have good taste and that I've come to terms with that. The opposite side of being ok with liking something that everyone else hated, is  feeling a little eh about something everyone else loved. This doesn't happen to me all that frequently, but occasionally something comes along that I just don't get. This is not a commentary on the book at all. Many of the books I haven't been able to like have been well written and well loved volumes that appear on "Books You Have to Read" lists all the time. It also doesn't say anything about my taste in literature as I can love something literary just as much as something that is not so much so. It could be that  a particular book just doesn't speak to my personality. It could be that I'm not in the right head space to connect with a particular kind of story.

So confession time. I didn't like Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell. That sound you heard is YA lovers everywhere gasping in horror. All I have heard about this book have been flat out raves, many times accompanied by expressive hand gestures and declarations of love. For some it seems to tap into a very specific teenaged part of themselves, where you remember what it felt like to fall in love with someone you randomly were thrown together with and the anticipation and joy that you felt leading up to time with them. That 15 year old self that is still very much a part of us and a chance to connect with it through the characters we read about is why I think so many adults read  YA fiction. At least it's why I do. And that's what was missing for me from Eleanor & Park.

Logically, I recognize that it's a good book. The writing is done well, the characters are fully formed and sympathetic, and there were plenty of lines that I stopped at and thought how wonderfully written and absolutely spot on they were. In a lot of ways the novel read very similarly to John Green, in that it was literary teen fiction that focuses on the emotional side of the coming of age experience. But for me at least I never had a moment when my 15 year old self got chills and gasped and declared that this book could be her secret life story, that defined her in a way that no adult could ever understand because god-mom-you-just-don't-understand-you've-never-been-in-love-like-this! And that what I wanted. I wanted to feel like the characters could have been me at one time. That if I'd read this as a teenager it would have been my favorite book, at least until the next one. In all honesty I wish I'd had that for E&P, because I always wish I'll have that in any new book I pick up.

Oldie But a Goodie Review: The Saturdays

Book: The Saturdays
Author(s):Elizabeth Enright
Length: 192 pages
Publisher: Henry Holt and Company
Publication Date: 1941 originally and 2002 republished
Why I Picked it Up: A coworker recommended it to me when I was whining about waiting for the next Penderwicks book.

I am a modern girl in many ways. I like my trashy reality television, am semi-addicted to my iPhone, spend more time on social media than is probably healthy for my actual social life, and love to read the newest ficiton popping up on the NYT best sellers list.

But there is another part of me, a part of me that I think most voracious readers have that loves to fall into older fiction. Where even the worst acts are portrayed in a softer, more polite way than is seen in our hard-edged, HD focus modern world. There's something about these kind of books that are deeply soothing and allows characters to be much more real and sympathetic to me than they may be in modern fiction, where they tend to remain just characters on the page for the most part.

Within the realm of older fiction, I have a particular soft spot for older children's literature. Some of the reading I do of these types of book is definitely nostalgic and by rereading Anne of Green Gables and A Tree Grows in Brooklyn every few years, I am recapturing a piece of myself that is 11 years old and spending long summers in the public library and on sunny beaches with a stack of books. These books also remind me that I can never be 11 again, and I'll never get to climb in Gilbert Blythe's row boat with Anne Shirley for the first time. So I seek out new children's fiction to give me both that softer old fashioned feel and the feeling of being 11 and discovering a new fictional friend all at once. The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright was one of those books that satisfied these two very particular desires.

The Goodreads description:

Meet the Melendys! Mona, the eldest, is thirteen. She has decided to become an actress and can recite poetry at the drop of a hat. Rush is twelve and a bit mischievous. Miranda is ten and a half. She loves dancing and painting pictures. Oliver is the youngest. At six, he is a calm and thoughful person. They all live with their father, who is a writer, and Cuffy, their beloved housekeeper, who takes on the many roles of nurse, cook, substitute mother, grandmother, and aunt. 

If you were only allowed to use one word to describe this book that word would absolutely have to be charming. The relationships between the children and their father and nanny-housekeeper, Cuffy are warm and simple in a way that relationships only ever are in older fiction, with the main focus being on how the children relate to each other. I will admit that as a child this type of book and the idealized sibling relationships within it made me bemoan my relationship with my siblings as deeply flawed and unrepairable, while in fact we fought no more than any other set of siblings. This very reason, however, is why we read books like this; for the idealized world they contain, as the author felt no need to portray the gritty side of reality.

Although a particular year is not mentioned (in fairness I could have missed it or am just not recalling it), the books seems to take place in the years leading up to WWII, with mentions of Hilter and Mussolini, as well as very poignant reference by one of the children who wonders what it would be like to live in a peaceful world. Other old-fashioned touches occur when the children mention how they spend their allowance on visits to Broadway shows, the Opera, the circus, and  to the beauty salon for a haircut and manicure, all for less than $1.50 per activity. The children also enjoy an extraordinary level of freedom almost unimaginable for a child today as they are allowed to wander in Central Park and rent a rowboat there, without adult supervision. 

In general I would say pick this book up. It's a fast read, but utterly charming and will definitely leave you smiling.

Review: The Selection

Book: The Selection
Author(s): Kiera Cass
Length: 327 pages
Publisher: HarperTeenPublication Date: April 24, 2012
Why I Picked It Up: To me the premise was really interesting and although I was really put off by the bad reviews I finally decided to pick it up.

I have never claimed to have good taste. I love a trashy bodice ripper, more of my reading selections are of the YA genre than I possibly care to admit, and sometimes when reading something of actual literary value, I get bored before the end and skim the last quarter of the book. So the idea that I may have enjoyed something a book that others hated is not outside the realm of possible or even probable  Enter The Selection of Kiera Cass. Prior to its release in April 2012 there was a huge amount of hype around this book, after The CW picked it up for a series. When people started actually reading it, however, it just didn't live up. As I said the bad reviews out me off for a while, but then my library got a copy and I decided "Why not?".

And then it happened- I actually enjoyed it. Was it my Favorite. Book. EVER! No. It wasn't even something I would go out of my way to recommend to others. And goodness knows I love to recommend. Either way I liked it, and will probably read the rest of the series. But there it is, I liked something that everyone else hated. And that's sort of a weird place to be. Here is the Goodreads description:

For thirty-five girls, the Selection is the chance of a lifetime. The opportunity to escape the life laid out for them since birth. To be swept up in a world of glittering gowns and priceless jewels. To live in a palace and compete for the heart of gorgeous Prince Maxon.

But for America Singer, being Selected is a nightmare. It means turning her back on her secret love with Aspen, who is a caste below her. Leaving her home to enter a fierce competition for a crown she doesn't want. Living in a palace that is constantly threatened by violent rebel attacks.

Then America meets Prince Maxon. Gradually, she starts to question all the plans she's made for herself--and realizes that the life she's always dreamed of may not compare to a future she never imagined. 

To start here's what I liked:

1. The story- It's actually a pretty good premise. In early press this was described this was described as The Hunger Games meets The Bachelorette. I absolutely see The Bachelorette connection, but not so much The Hunger Games, as these girls are not fighting for their life. Either way, it's an interesting idea of being thrown into a situation in which you have to choose your spouse from a set group. And of course I could just watch trashy reality TV (and I do), but on those shows there is very belief that contestants are actually trying to build a lasting relationship. 
2. The relationships between America and the other girls- Throw 35 teenage girls in a room and you expect fighting, back stabbing, and other activities that result in overwrought tears and hysterics. And you get all of that. And America is not above all of that, but she does at times combat that stereotype by being loyal to her friends, steadfast in her beliefs, and generally more mature than expected.

And here's what I didn't:

1. America. She's a whiny pain in the @ss. Sorry I had to say it.
2. The writing is just not my favorite. It's not that it's bad, it's completely competent, it's just not all that exciting.
3. The way the story is told. It's just such a good premise and the finished project is just not all that good.

 So give it the old 50 pages try. Maybe you won't like it, maybe you will. 

** So because I am oh so negligent about updating, this review is actually like 10 months old. The second book in the series The Elite has come out and I actually finished it last week. Unclear if I'll review or not.

And again.

BAHAHAHAHA! I actually find this slightly hilarious.