Tuesday, January 28, 2014

Fairytale? Gender equality statement? Love story? Hard to tell: Ash by Melinda Lo

Never have I felt so ambivalent towards a YA novel. Usually it's pretty clean cut. But this one was difficult for me to figure out, so I guess I'll start with what I knew I liked.

I liked the writing and the story itself. It was written just like a Grimm's fairytale or a Hans Christian Anderson story. The landscapes were heavily wooded, the clothing beautiful, and the secondary characters lacked depth or backgrounds. In most books this would be a really really bad thing but with Ash it worked. The story is a reworking of a fairytale and it's awesome that Melinda Lo was able to create a recognizably fairytale world in a YA novel.

The story itself is a retelling of Cinderella but in this one the prince is basically forgotten except as a target for Aisling (Ash's) vain stepsister. The fairy godmother is still a fairy, but not in the Disney way. No this godmother is an original fairie who lures away unsuspecting travelers and kills them. Also, she's no longer a woman. Instead Ash's "godmother" is a beautiful male fairy who is sad and cursed. Also, there's a huntress who works for the prince and honestly really has no discernible background or personality other than to be basically awesome and wholly good. Which Lo pulls off very well considering that I knew nothing about the huntress other than her name was Kaisa, she's open with her interest in women, she's pretty kick-ass, and she started working for the King at the age of twelve.

Ash's mother dies young after a potential run in with fairies and her father marries a wicked woman with two vaguely evil daughters. Because Ash was raised on superstitions and fairytales she runs off into the forest whenever she's even remotely upset and every time she's saved by a beautiful fairy man named Shidean who refuses to let the fairy people take her for some strange reason, claiming that no one ever knows both sides of the story. The dad dies and Ash is moved with her sisters away from the wood that she grew up in and in order to pay off her father's debt she must now work for her step mother. It's the basic Cinderella story. But wait! There's the twist where Ash meets the Prince's Huntress, Kaisa, and discovers that y'know what? She really thinks Kaisa is awesome but becuase she's a serving girl she isn't allowed to go on the Hunt with Kaisa or to the Yule celebration or the Masquerade ball so she asks Shidean for his help and he offers it, with one stipulation. When she is ready, she will come to him and be his.

So all of that that I described? I liked all of that. It was what lay underneath that bothered me and I can't decide if I liked it. And if I did like it, how I felt about having such a gendered statement hidden beneath the text of what could have been a very awesome fairy tale/love story.

The whole story lies on the fact that [spoilers for anyone who wants to read the book and be surprised by the ending--

Thursday, January 23, 2014

A Life of Sepia and "God's Will": The Miseducation of Cameron Post

The Miseducation of Cameron Post acts like two different novels packed into one almost 500 page tome. And yes, I said 500 pages. Well, more like 470 but close enough. The first part features a landscape of sepia tone Montana backdrops and long luxurious romps through old lake beds and half remembered romances. The other half is a sterile and gray imprisonment in a school designed to fix those who have experienced "inappropriate sexual attraction to the wrong gender".

I honestly fell in love with the Miseducation of Cameron Post. Cameron was one of the more realistic characters I've read in a lot time. After dealing with the death of her parents (which she initially associates with God rebuking her for kissing a girl) she hides her real feelings behind sarcastic humor, smokes pot with the guys in her town, and decorates a doll house her dad made for her before his death.

Cameron was one of those characters that you could see being your best friend, which it why it hurts when her family and the girl she loves turns against her and send her away. Cam endears herself to the reader. You become her confidante, the one person she can express her love for Coley to, the one who she can cry to about when Irene Klauson treats her like nothing, the person that gets angry for her as she's sent away to God's Promise school, a place meant to "de-gay" troubled youth by using mental warfare to teach students that everything they love is wrong. It's heartbreaking and the entire time you feel her anguish.

The first part of the story has all the earmarks of a coming out love story starting with Cam's first crush; Irene, Cam's "lesbian fairy godmother" Lindsey, the older college love Mona, and finally Coley; the one who broke Cam's heart. Coley is straight and very sweet to Cam and even has the idea that Cam loves her but only uses her for experimentation before getting scared and turning her in to their pastor. Lindsey acts as Cam's foil by being loud and out and rejecting of many 1990's lesbian stereotypes while also giving Cam someone to cling to while fighting her feelings for Coley.

The second part turns into a detailed diary showing the inner workings of de-gaying programs shown on news shows. It doesn't seem completely real at times but still Cam acts as the reader's connection to her inner thoughts, showing how the program works to try and tear her apart. Thankfully the entire beginning of the novel sets up to show just how strong Cam can be, giving the reader hope that at the end of those 470 pages she will still be the strong girl they fell in love with.

Despite her time at Promise school the book is actually very uplifting and inspiring. Even for non-LGBT readers this book is empowering. It shows a girl who, while getting off to a rocky start with her life, becomes strong in her belief in herself. She isn't beaten by God's Promise, she rises above her insane aunt and the anger of her past, and she starts to look forward to the life she can build for herself.

There have been very few books that I've power read through and considering that I read all 470 pages of this in less than three days that definitely says something. My overall rating? A solid five stars. It's well written, witty, down to earth with a strong and endearing female lead who is a great boon for the LGBT community.

Monday, January 20, 2014

Seventeenth Summer

So, I have finally decided and narrowed down what I want to study in my books. I'm going to look at the way the teenage girls in these novels treat their bodies. Girls (and boys) are reading these books and taking some of their cues from these novels, in regards to sexuality, physical health, self-harm etc. I don't really want to call it body image because that feels a bit restrictive, but I'm not sure what to call it. Does this make sense?

So, I am analyzing how the female characters treat their bodies, and I wanted to look at the changes through the decades of YA Lit. So I have a book form each decade, and a few more from the 90's and the 00's, since these are more likely to be read by present generations.

I started with Seventeenth Summer. 1942 folks. Considered one of the first YA novels. Overall, I found it very whimsical and a light, fun read. However it ended a bit abruptly, and there were several instances in the novel where the narrator foreshadows things, that end up not being as dramatic as one would think. But then i have to stop and remind myself, this was 1942, and really, the most exciting thing to take place in a small town such as the one in the novel, would be to go get Cokes at the drugstore. Which they do a lot. I certainly hope they removed the cocaine from the cola before this tykes were drinking so much of it.

So, this girl Angie, has just graduated high school, and will be headed to Chicago in the fall for college. She comes from an upper middle class family, and is the third of four sisters. This book narrates her sister's lives, especially the older twos romantic involvements, as well as her own with Jack, a boy from the local 'public' high school. Her father travels and is only home on the weekends. Her mother is a fairly strong and independent woman, who is obsessed with her garden. She doesn't really think it's proper for Angie to be spending SO much time with Jack, but in the end always allows her to go out with him.

You learn about Angie through the way she talks about other people. Margaret, her oldest sister is beautiful, and intelligent, and witty, and engaged. Her next sister Lorraine, is always experimenting with hairstyles and makeup, and you get the idea that she is not as pretty as Margaret. And Kitty, the youngest, is not old enough to be analyzed much.

Angie is often comparing her self to Jane, a girl in town who once dated Jack, and has beautiful blonde hair and can dance softly, and laughs like a bell. Evidently, Angie finds herself prettier than Lorraine, but not as smooth as Jane.

The most dramatic moment is when Jack drags Angie out to look for firewood, and awkwardly proposes to her, as she is moving to college, and he is moving to Oklahoma with his family. She just cries. But, she ends up going to school and leaves us on the train stating that she'll always remember that seventeenth summer, while clutching Jack's class ring. I really wanted some resolution.

There is no sex in this book. They do kiss, and the do hold hands, but the details are not very detailed. Which is interesting, because the book has so much details about the landscape and nature. It just drips with beautiful language describing her feelings about the lake, and the air, and the garden and the stars, but she it comes to Jack, she doesn't say much. I'm not sure if the intent was to show how confused she was, this was her first relationship, or really what the point was. She doesn't talk about herself much either, just her actions, but not her inner thoughts and feelings really.

So the majority of what I have to study in this novel is the way she describes other women, mostly Margaret, Lorraine and Jane, and base what she must think of herself by what she doesn't say. I sam interested to see how this little technique will change or adapt as I travel through the decades.

Friday, January 17, 2014

Two Sides To Every Coin: Grave Mercy by Robin LaFevers

While I'm glad I'm not the first post here, it makes it harder to follow.

     As I have focused my studies on the fantasy/supernatural elements in YA Literature, I have discovered quickly that this is a difficult area to judge in terms of literary value. Fantasy novels are generally defined by "imaginary worlds that differ from the modern world in ways that science can't explain, imaginary worlds of magical and supernatural beings and events" ("Fantasy"). In fact, fantasy can be thought of as the genre of the impossible. Fantasy novels are based on something other than the "real" world or are placed in a setting that offers magical or supernatural elements that allow a person to really escape into them. This is why it happens to be my personal favorite among genres. But taken in the context of YA Lit, it is harder to critique using the same aspects and characteristics looked for in adult fantasy. In a way, YA Lit has its own set of fundamental features that appeal to young readers (and in some cases, older readers as well). While I believe that the same themes and features of contemporary stories in YA lit are just as prevalent in fantasy, the manner in which they are presented is vastly different and thus more difficult to discern.

     I began my studies with a historical fantasy novel, Grave Mercy by Robin La Fevers, which I would give four to four and a half stars.The plot was well-paced, the style engaging, and the story itself full of a myriad of small gems. As I mentioned, it is harder to find literary value in such novels, as many are easier read as simply entertainment, but it is there. In this novel, it addresses the themes of choice and trust, both highly popular for this age group as they are forming their own identities of themselves and others.

     The story focuses on Ismae Reinne, a seventeen year old girl, born regardless of the abortive attempts made by her mother but scarred. From then on, she is treated harshly by all who know her as a devil "sired by Death". Rescued from a brutal arranged marriage at the age of fourteen and sent to a convent devoted to Saint Mortain, the patron god of Death, she is taught in the tools used by Death, including poisons, weapons, and "the womanly arts" of seduction. In short, she becomes a handmaiden of Death itself, a highly skilled assassin. She learns that she has also been given gifts by the god himself--immunity to poison, unnaturally quick healing, and the ability to look beyond the veil and communicate (in a way) with the souls of the recently dead. As a handmaiden of Death, she is also granted the ability to see marques: a black stain placed on the victims the god has deemed unworthy to remain in the world.
     Ismae's most important assignment takes her straight into the heart of the royal court of Brittony, posing as the mistress of the mysterious Gavriel Duval, a bastard son of the late Duke and half-sister to the young duchess, who has fallen under suspicion as a traitor to his country. While there, Ismae discovers she is woefully unprepared for the deadly games of intrigue and love, but also for the impossible choices she is faced with. As the dangers surrounding the young duchess grow thicker, the more Ismae is convinced that Duval is nothing more than what he seems: a kind, devoted and loyal supporter of the duchess and an honorable man. She begins to question the reliability of the convent's information and subsequent assignments, the deeper meaning of the marques, and her own part in this masquerade. As the novel progresses, she must decide where she stands in the schemes and plots around her and how to act on those decisions once made. Is it with Mortain, the god she has faithfully served for three years? The convent, who gave her the chance to live her life without the constraints of  society? Or herself, trusting Duval and aiding him in the fight to save the duchy from the machinations of France and interior betrayals?

     Though it sounds like nothing more than an adventure, this book was compelling when addressing these questions. Something I found especially interesting was the way the author separated  Ismae's duty to the god, Mortain, and the convent--the abbess, in particular--who dispense the assignments and speak for the god. One of Ismae's greatest struggles is reconciling her desire to serve Death yet questioning the instructions sent to her from the convent as entirely credible. "The nuns don't make mistakes" she repeats many times, but again and again she stays her hand or disobeys her orders in favor of her personal instinct and other more merciful options. This struggle based around her religion, which is exactly what the old gods represent, is highly relevant to today's youth, who are frequently unsure where they should declare their spiritual beliefs or if they should have any. More often than not, children inherit their parent's religious outlooks and later question or abandon them. The process involved in such decisions is complex, made up of events, other personal standards, or experience that leads them to rethink that part of their identity. In Ismae's case, she finds a way to reconcile her battling emotions by serving Death's merciful hand, rather than His wrathful justice.

     And, of course, there is the romance between Duval and Ismae. What YA novel is complete without some kind of love story? The soul-wrenching decision of trust is strongly tied directly back to this relationship. Although Ismae is constantly attempting to figure out who is on which side within the duchess's court, her relationship with Duval is a triple whammy: she is investigating his loyalties while trusting him as her only true ally in the court, and THEN she finds herself falling for him. Trust is another huge factor in a young adult's formative years, if not always represented in the literature. The fact that is is an intricate part of a romantic relationship is also one of the key concepts of the novel. While young adults are all obsessed with the idea of having a girlfriend/boyfriend, the nature of their relationships, I believe, are highly superficial. Trusting that person with not only your physical well-being, but your emotional baggage is something that is extremely hard to do. And it is a two-sided arrangement. Both Ismae and Duval have to overcome their own fears and doubts in order to come together as people and allies in a court that is dominated by betrayal, greed, and ambition. One of the hardest things for Ismae, in this arena, is the moment when she allows Duval to stitch a deep wound to her back. While it is not the most vulnerable moment in the story for her, I think it is one of the most crucial. She is still balancing on the edge provided by the three converging problems associated with Duval, unsure of any of them, yet she opens herself in the most trusting way she possibly can at this point, rather than later once she's ascertained one or more answers to her doubts.To do this, Duval would be exposed to her bare back, and more importantly, the scar left from the poison used in the womb. This scar represents years of hatred and fear from those who saw it and reviled her as evil and touched by Death. She has already come to care for Duval enough that it matters what he thinks and how he will react to this imperfection. His rejection, while working to remind her of her purpose, would also be terribly painful for her. Yet, she lets him, and he accepts it. "There is no shame in scars," he tells her. Yet the line refers not only to physical scars, but emotional ones, and the book explores and exploits them throughout the book.

     I could continue on this in more detail, but I'll just leave it to you to read the book if you so choose. It explores these concepts much better than I do, anyway.

Citation
"Fantasy." The Encyclopedia of Literary and Cultural Theory. Hoboken: Wiley, 2011. Credo Reference. Web. 18 January 2014.

A Good Jumping off Point: Ask the Passengers by A.S. King

As I begin my explorations with YA LGBTQ Lit (wow that's a lot of letters) I had to do a little search on modern LGBTQ lit being published--modern meaning in the last 7-10 years. I found out that according to YALSA (Young Adult Library Services Association) "There are 55 queer YA novels being published in in 2012, meaning that queer YA is just 1.6% of all YA coming out this year" and those numbers haven't really increased since then.

So, to start off the Lesbian literature section of my directed study I began with Ask the Passengers by A.S. King.

My initial review: lackluster but good.

When looking for outstanding teen literature this book is more the quintessential coming of age novel that is highly prevalent in the LGBTQ field. Astrid Jones is quirky and clever and if judging the book on her personality alone, then it would be a very good book. The basic idea of the novel is that Astrid lives in a small close minded town ironically named "Unity Valley" after moving there from New York. Her sister does everything in her power to fit in, even though she plays field hockey (and according to her "not all field hockey players are lesbians, c'mon, get a life, even though there are like two on the other team but whatever"). Her mom is high strung and basically dislikes Astrid, and her father smokes pot in the shed and builds bird houses to cope with the fact that the biggest scandal in his workplace is the STAPLER THIEF.

Astrid spends her life in school enjoying philosophy, hating trigonometry and being an all around outcast. She has a "hidden" girlfriend named Dee who keeps pressuring her to go farther than she's really ready to and hiding the secret that her two best friends, the homecoming couple, are actually both gay and using each other as beards.

For the most part the dialogue is wonderful and flows easily even as Astrid speaks about Zeno and the fact that his idea that "motion doesn't exist" is stupid. The best part for me was when Astrid, trying to find a way to cope in a town of fake love, goes out to her backyard to stare up at the sky and send love to the passengers in airplanes. Often times her mind drifts up to the plane and lets the reader see what's happening in the plane to lend a theme of magical realism.

One thing that bothered me with the book was the fact that at the beginning of the novel Astrid claims to have liked a boy, romantically, but when her family discovers Dee and demands for her to figure out her sexual identity the idea of bisexuality never comes up. A general consensus amongst the LGBTQ community is that the B and T of that alphabet soup tend to be mostly overlooked or minimized. While I understand this is a "lesbian text" it still strikes me that Astrid being bi wasn't even a possibility.

My overall rating depending on what it could add to the LGBT teen lit canon, creativity, and general story-ness? Three stars out of five. It's a good, basic text with a good message for something just coming into lesbian literature and the writing is very nice, it's just not all that different from a lot of coming out texts focused for teen readers.