Tag Archives: Literature

Photo by Lotus Head. Johannesburg, Gauteng, South Africa.

I loved the first Backstreet Boys song I heard on the radio. It was catchy and fun to listen to as I rode my bike around our neighbourhood in the summer of 1997. And then I figured out that the Backstreet Boys were a boy band and instantly stopped admitting I liked their CD. I was a serious poet, you see, and could not be seen earnestly bopping along to guilty pleasures like pop ballads.

One of the unexpected surprises of growing up was learning how freeing it is to stop believing in hierarchies. Scrambled eggs and ketchup were made for one another. Jodi Picoult’s body of work and almost every dystopian novel ever written are so much fun to read I’d rather stay up an extra hour to learn how these stories end than feel well-rested tomorrow. Sometimes the best way to wrap up a long day is by dancing to The Hits: Chapter One.

You may or may not agree with my taste in food, books or music. That’s ok. I have an aversion to olives, Inspirational fiction and Bluegrass but that doesn’t make any of these things objectively good or bad. Feeling guilty for liking the “wrong” things is counterproductive and silly.

For example, I absolutely abhorr F. Scott Fitzgerald’s writing style in The Great Gatsby. I had to read it in high school and it was all I could do to not fling that silly book out the window every time Nick pined over not being married to his snotty, deceitful (second) cousin.

Beowulf has been one of my all-time favourite tales because the poetry was beautiful and I immediately sympathized with Beowulf’s fierce desire to protect his community. Some of my classmates loved The Canterbury Tales but The Wife of Bath was the only character I found particularly amusing in that book.

Classic music or novels become classics in large part because ordinary people find universal truths in their subject matter and continue to seek them out decades after they were originally released. Today’s classics were often yesterday’s bestsellers and may have been considered “lowbrow” entertainment when they first came out.

Does this mean that I’m the final authority on what’s good in life? No, not everything can or should appeal to everyone!

Just keep your stinky olives away from me. 😉

Comic by Liz Climo

As I mentioned on Monday blog traffic is quite slow around here this time of year, but I would like to talk about books with those of you who are still around.

Here’s my list of must-reads:

After: Nineteen Stories of Apocalypse and Dystopia by Ellen Datlow and Terri Windling. These genres shine in the short story format. As much as I love dystopian fiction sometimes entire novels focusing on the same ideas can be overwhelming. This is even more true for the creepiest stories.   If you only have time to read one of these stories make it “The Segment.” The twist in it was chilling in large part because I can see how easily it could actually happen in our world.

Never Let Me Go by Kazuo Ishiguro. At first glance Hailsham appears to be a typical English boarding school but as Kathy and her circle of friends grow older they begin to unravel the mystery surrounding the only home they’ve ever known. I figured out what was happening early on but the ethical questions this book raises are chilling and based on how I interpreted the ending are not at all resolved in a typical manner. Online reviews are split as to whether Ishiguro intended to write these characters that way. Some people think he was actually trying to make the opposite statement but didn’t write certain scenes clearly enough. I disagree with this theory.

Stitches by David Small. An autobiographic graphic novel about a teenage boy who is treated for cancer without being told his diagnosis or that he isn’t expected to survive. I’m hoping his mother’s life is the focus of a future book as her experiences haemorrhaged into so much of David’s suffering. Some people respond to horrific trauma by doing everything they can to end the cycle for good. Most folks I’ve known who chose this path were extremely successful at protecting the next generation. Others recreate the terrible circumstances and play the role of the abuser this time. Often they succeed.

Challenging Casanova: Beyond the Stereotypes of the Promiscuous Young Male by Andrew P. Smiler. Abstinence-only sex ed taught me that men can never be trusted completely because they’ll say and do anything to get you in bed. While I don’t agree with all of the assumptions in this book I’m so glad to see more people pushing back against this stereotype. There will always be individuals who take advantage of others but they are not the standard by which entire groups should be measured.

Gwinna by Barbara Helen Berger. I first read this story 20 years ago and still lull myself to sleep some nights wondering about these characters. The plot in a nutshell: a lonely infertile couple asks Mother Owl to give them a child. She agrees under the condition that the child be allowed to return home on her 12th birthday. As their daughter grows up her mother binds her wings in order to prevent her flying back to Mother Owl. This works…until it doesn’t. What happens to Gwinna after she discovers her destiny is why this is the best children’s book ever written.

Delights and Shadows by Ted Kooser. A book of poetry Sabio Lantz recommended. Ted Kooser’s affinity for the written word shines through his work. This is the kind of poetry that seeps into your bones. A week, a month, a year passes and then one day these words bubble back up again in a quiet moment.

My favourite lines from this collection include:

The bright wire rolls like a porpoise in and out of the calm blue sea – “A Spiral Notebook”

and

I was that old man you saw sitting in a confetti of yellow light – “That Was I”

Respond

What are you reading over the holidays?

When I was a little girl I had two hamsters named Cherry and Pretty.  Cherry was given to me by an extended family member shortly before my family moved cross-country when I was seven. He travelled those 2,000 miles with us to our new home out west. I believe my mom made a little nest for him in a tupperware container as I have a vague memory of peeking through some sort of breath-able lid we had on it. We bought Pretty at a pet store in Wyoming as I was convinced that Cherry was lonely.

But as Cherry was a boy and Pretty was a girl they weren’t actually allowed to spend time together. Our family had a strict no-breeding policy for everyone at that point, human and hamster alike.

They each lived a few healthy, happy years and then passed away quietly in their sleep. By the time Pretty, the younger of the two, grew old I was as ready to say goodbye as any kid could be in that situation. I loved her and would miss her but I could tell by her stiff gait she felt more uncomfortable every day.

After Cherry and Pretty died I wondered where they went and if they’d remember me if we met again. As cute as they are hamsters are not the most intelligent creatures. 😉

This unforgettable book reminded me of the bond I shared with my pets growing up.

Enzo and Denny have trudged through some very dark days together.  As Enzo nears the end of his (canine) life and prepares for the next one he does everything he can to study how men behave and take care of his human family. A TV documentary once taught him that when a dog has finished his or her canine lifetimes he or she will be reincarnated as a person and Enzo is ready for it.

Enzo would stay with Denny and Zoe (Denny’s daughter) forever if he could. Because he cannot he vows to do the next best thing – find them again in his next lifetime.

I won’t spoil the ending for those of you who haven’t read The Art of Racing in the Rain yet. Sufficed to say it left me blinking back tears and thinking about love. Is the emotion we call love the same set of feelings that some animals seem to have for the humans in their lives? I’d like to think it is as I’ve known some incredibly loyal and loving pets in my day.

But it also makes me wonder if my definition of love is the same as yours? While I’m better able to describe what I mean by the term love it’s just as impossible for you to step into my shoes as it would be for you to become a dog or hamster for a day.

What do you think?

The first half of the list. 

William Golding, The Inheritors. One of the questions I’ve come back to again and again over the years when I want something interesting to think about is this: what was it like to grow up Neanderthal 30,000 years ago? What were the real differences between Neanderthals and Homo sapians sapians?

Golding’s answer to this question doesn’t agree with current research but the characters he breathes to life are unforgettable.

John Steinbeck, The Grapes of Wrath.

This book taught me more about the Great Depression than any history class in public school.

Margaret Atwood, Alias Grace.

(Very) loosely based on a real murder trial in the 1840s. The narrator is at time unlikable and unreliable (or maybe she really doesn’t remember what actually happened?) but Atwood’s description of what life was like for a working class Canadian woman is chilling. I suspect even an innocent narrator would have been found guilty by virtue of the horrifically sexist and classist society that tried her.

Susan Goldman Rubin, Emily Good as Gold.

It’s been 15 years since I last read this book but Emily is still one of my favourite characters. I don’t know how accurate the depiction of her developmental disabilities is – I’ll leave that argument up to people with firsthand knowledge of the subject. What I can say is that I remember this being one of those rare young adult books that takes a hard look at sensitive topics like sexual assault and discrimination against people with disabilities without sounding like an after school special.

John Colapinto, As Nature Made Him.

One of the most captivating books about gender, sexuality and how society influences our identities that you’ll ever read. In a nutshell, when John he was an infant a botched circumcision destroyed his penis. The doctor treating him told John’s parents to move to a new town,  change his name and raise their son as a girl.

So they did.

As soon as John could talk, though, he insisted he was a boy like his twin brother. This is the story of what happened next. It’s a powerful argument for the idea that gender identity and sexual orientation are inborn traits, not something that anyone can change.

 Respond

Do you have a list of unforgettable books?

Toni Morrison, The Bluest Eye. As a white child and teenager living in an overwhelmingly white community I honestly hadn’t thought about racism very much before picking up this book. What surprised me the most about this story is how much Pecola (and other characters) internalized the hate. Without giving away spoilers the last few pages are particularly chilling.

 Betty Smith, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn. The most memorable scene in this book happens when Francie and her brother play in the dirt before going to a health clinic for vaccinations. Their mother was far too poor to pay for a babysitter while she worked so there was no one around to get them cleaned up before the appointment. The nurse who assists with their check-up is described as someone who came from a similarly disadvantaged background and is ashamed of it.

When the doctor sees how dirty they are he complains to the nurse about neglectful poor parents who obviously don’t care about their kids . She agrees with him, adding that water is free and soap is cheap.

I couldn’t fault the doctor for not knowing what the lives of his patients were actually like but it was a shock to think that someone who grew up in that environment would forget (or pretend to forget?)

C.S. Lewis, The Great Divorce. When I was a Christian this book introduced me to perspectives on hell, redemption and free will that I’d never heard of before. It was eye-opening to learn that not only is there disagreement within that faith over these things but that people were arguing  about it 50 years ago. (And 500, 1000, 2000 years ago!)

Velma Wallis, Two Old Women. This is the first (and so far only) book I’ve ever read in which two old women are heroes instead of people in need of rescue.

John Steinbeck, The Pearl. My freshman English teacher introduced me to this book and I rooted for Kino, Juana and little Coyotito from the beginning, sure that somehow they’d emerge from the climax unscathed. When the story didn’t end up where I thought I should I began rewriting it in my head.It was the first time I realized that the words printed on a page don’t have to be the only future for beloved characters.

Respond

What books have changed your worldview?