Divine Secrets of the Ya-Ya Sisterhood - by Rebecca Wells

Siddalee (aka Sidda) Walker didn't intend to portray her mother (Vivi) as "a tap-dancing child abuser" when she was interviewed by a New York Times reporter after directing a hit play. The article, not surprisingly, however, causes an estrangement between the two women, which in turn causes Siddalee to postpone her upcoming wedding and do some soul searching. She retreats to a cabin in Washington state and attempts to get some insight into her mother (and herself) via Vivi's scrapbook, and through the "Ya-Yas," her mother's three lifelong friends.

I got almost all the way to the end of this book believing I would not be writing a blog post about it, but on page 341 of this 356-page book there appeared a library reference that could not be ignored. On her homecoming for Vivi's birthday Sidda considers all the things her relations had to face during the standoff

Sidda knew the scenes they'd had to witness down there in the thick of things: Baylor refusing to represent Vivi in a lawsuit against Sidda. Vivi's letters, sent certified mail to everyone in the extended family, announcing that she had disowned her oldest daughter. Vivi's highly publicized...firing of the lawyer who'd represented the Walkers for decades because he dared advise her to think it over before she cut Sidda out of her will. Vivi's monthlong attempt o reach Arthur Ochs Sulzberger Jr., publisher of the New York Times, to give him a piece of her mind. Vivi's wild attempt to force the Garnet Parish Library to burn their issue-and the microfiche- of the New York Times that carried the offending article. Then Vivi's desperate cancellation of her library card when they refused. And of course her delight in the subterfuge when she later reapplied for a card under an assumed name.

So much going on here with the attempted censorship and attempted blackmail. Of course today burning a single copy of a newspaper (or all copies in town for that matter), would not prevent people from reading an article published in a national newspaper which is now available online. Even so, it was good to read that even this fictitious would-be censor was thwarted by the librarians, who were certainly not going to change their minds over a patron's decision to cancel her card! Likewise they were probably not fooled when she used an alias to apply for a new card. This passage not only illustrates the power of the public library, but the necessity of it as well. Vivi's deception in applying for another card, even after she has expressed her anger toward the library demonstrates just how important libraries are. Library cards are like keys for unlocking information.

The Boys on the Boat - by Daniel James Brown

This audio book was loaned to me by a friend, who, like my husband has a passion for rowing. James and I listened to this during a series of car rides to and from our "Whaling House" (our home near the water where James' whaleboat-rowing club meets).

Joe Rantz was one of the members of the United States rowing crew who won the gold medal at Berlin Olympics in 1936. Rantz's story frames this tale, but as a dying Rantz told the author when he was interviewed, the book is not just his story. It is about "the boat...something more than just the shell or its crew...it encompasse[s] but transcend[s] both...something mysterious and almost beyond definition" (from the prologue).

Rantz's story is especially inspiring and the author skillfully spins a yarn about a young boy too often left to fend for himself who learns that in order to win the gold means he must also learn to depend on others.

All the young men on the team were hardworking and we learned a bit of backstory about each one, but the only one (besides Rantz) will get a special mention here. George "Shorty" Hunt was a renaissance man who, we learn, once worked as an "assistant librarian" among many other things.

Alternating with chapters about the team members, and logistics of rowing, was the history of what was happening in Germany prior to the Olympic games. Hitler and his megalomaniac inner circle managed to avoid a boycott of the games through a carefully orchestrated propaganda campaign.

I must also give a shout out to Edward Herrmann, the reader of this audiobook. An excellent voice, with perfect cadence.

50 Shades of Grey - by E L James

Coming in at number four on the list of most frequently challenged books of 2013 James' books have caused quite a bit of controversy for its theme of sexual bondage and domination. Most works that show up on the New York Times bestseller list will be purchased by public libraries without any librarians reading them first to determine if they are good enough. If there is a clear demand, they are purchased. There is no doubt about the demand for the "50 Shades" trilogy (which also includes 50 Shades Darker, and 50 Shades Freed). The question is why are some libraries refusing to purchase it? Some question the "literary merits" of the book. I agree that those merits are questionable, but do libraries really apply those standards to all of their purchases? One could also rightly question the literary merit of Stephen King, or Danielle Steele. Others have stood behind their "no erotica" policy. I agree that collection development policies are important and should be used to make purchasing decisions, but here I question who is deciding what constitutes erotica. Do these libraries not carry any bodice-ripping romances? Or do those get a pass simply because they are classified under the genre of "romance" rather than "erotica"? As a little test, I checked the Gwinnet County (GA) Public Library catalog for Pamela Morsi's Love Overdue (which includes at least two sexually explicit scenes). And indeed, I discovered that this Harlequin Romance is in the catalog, but the Library is apparently steadfast in its refusal to order 50 Shades. 

Personally, I was prepared to never read 50 Shades myself, but when I saw it on the banned books list I felt that I should (strictly as an academic exercise, of course). I discovered that the book's narrator, Anastasia Steele (Ana), not only loved books, but that she also claimed to not like being in crowds and "prefer[red] her own company reading a classic British novel, curled up in a chair in the campus library." She also makes a passing reference, while interviewing for an internship at a publishing house, to the fact that she worked in the library as a student at Washington State University. This revelation comes late in the book, and is so subtle one might not even notice it unless one is specifically looking for the word "library" (or its variations) while reading. For those of us who were looking for such connections, it suddenly turned Ana into the trope of the stuck-up-virgin-librarian-who-just-needs-to-let-her-hair-down. It did make me wonder, also, why she had to ask Christian Grey where she should do research about his "alternative lifestyle". He simply tells her to start with Wikipedia. Really? She couldn't come up with that on her own? Are we left to believe that a graduate of WSU, who worked in the library no less, doesn't know where to begin doing basic research?

Ultimately, I saw this book as a strange mash-up of Twilight and Nine and a Half Weeks.

Read more about some of the libraries that have banned this book here. 

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian - by Sherman Alexie

Banned Books Week 2014

Coming in at no. 3 on the list of most banned books of 2013 Alexie's novel about a Native American boy, Junior (a.k.a. Arnold), who decides to leave his reservation school and go to the "white" school 22 miles away is both funny and sad. Junior's uses his own talent of drawing comics as a way of dealing with the realities he faces on the reservation which include the effects of extreme poverty, alcoholism, and domestic abuse.

This book has a curious history of challenges. Most recently it was challenged in Meridian, Idaho by a grandmother who felt it was only appropriate for people aged "75 [and] up" (being unsuited to age group is one of the reasons cited for its challenges). It has also been challenged in Brunswick County North Carolina. In a truly post-modern twist to this story, teen Brady Kissel arranged to give away copies of the book  as part of the World Book Night program. A concerned parent called the police to report that children were taking the free books without their parents permission! I have to hand it to the police, who did absolutely nothing about the report.

Of course my favorite thing about Junior is that he loves to read. Junior, who is often bullied, finds solace in reading, and he admits to wanting to kiss his Geometry textbook, until he discovered that it was the same one used by his mother over thirty-years prior. This is partially the impetus for his school transfer. At his new school he befriends Gordy who explains to him that books need to be taken seriously, as illustrated in this cartoon.

Gordy also points out that even their relatively small high school library of  three thousand four hundred and twelve books in their high school library represents almost 10-years of reading if one read at a rate of one book per day. "The world" he says even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know."

This is true even for those who read a lot, like Junior, who reads so much that he has this knowledge of Gandhi's bowel movements

Gandhi was way into his own number two. I don't know if he told fortunes or anything. But I guess he thought the condition and quality of his number two revealed the condition and quality of his life.

A story of hope in the face of adversity.

Banned Books Week - Why I "let" my daughter read Twilight books

...or maybe not...

Stephenie Meyer's series of books about a teenage vampire falling in love with a human are immensely popular, and also rank among the most banned or challenged books in the country. Why are these books that are sometimes referred to as "mind candy" and that really do have so much not to like about them, still so popular? Even among feminists like me.

 I took my first women's studies course (Women and the Media)  in the early 1980s at the University of Maryland Baltimore County. One of my classmates talked about her 13-year old daughter reading Young Miss and Seventeen magazines and said these magazines made clear the messages about body image and gender stereotypes that we'd been discussing in class. "I can't believe you let your daughter read that stuff" retorted another (childless) classmate, immediately putting the first woman on the defensive (way to go, Sisters!). That was the first time I heard the "why would you let your daughter read that crap?" question, but it certainly wasn't the last. I have heard it many times in the 30 years since the incident took place, and thought about it quite a bit, especially in the last 16 years, since I became the parent of a daughter myself. I have never been asked the question directly, but I have heard it asked about the Twilight books. So without getting too defensive, here is my response.

When my daughter was first learning to read, she noticed a sign in our local public library that said that all library records were private regardless of the patron's age (I'm paraphrasing). My first grader could read the words, but did not understand their meaning and asked me about it. I explained to her it meant that she could check out whatever book she wanted whenever she wanted, and neither I, nor her father, nor anyone else could find out.  The sign, of course, was there for me, not for her. It was there to let me know that if I wanted to know what my child was reading I should accompany her to the library. Of course, my six-year old wasn't likely to be going to the library by herself anyway. But, as a pre-teen she did start going by herself, and I was happy we lived in a place that had a library my daughter could walk or bike to on her own. She is a voracious reader, and I have always told her that she could read whatever she wanted, whenever she felt ready to read it. Because here's the thing I knew: children want to read things that interest them. She didn't read novels about teenagers having sex, or sucking blood, or taking drugs, or skipping school when she was in elementary school because those things were not part of her reality at the time, and books with those themes generally aren't written for young children anyway. She wanted books about animals, and babies, and friends playing together and sharing. When she was old enough to read Young Adult novels I was glad for her to be able to explore difficult or disturbing subjects through the safe venue of books. I sometimes asked her about books she was reading, but I didn't pry. Sometimes I suggested books she might like, which she sometimes actually read. One of my suggestions, in fact, was the Twilight series. Our whole family has traveled to Transylvania and we are fascinated with vampire lore. My daughter and I both read the entire series, and the whole family has seen all the movies (the books are way better, btw). Here's my dirty little secret: I like them. No, I didn't find them to be exceptionally well written, or to have especially deep or complex story lines. I do like the way Meyers built up the sexual tension (and was completely let down when Mr. and Mrs. Edward Cullen finally consummated their relationship). And I like the fact that the Twilight books are a mindless read in an otherwise complicated world; I like that I had something I could talk to my daughter and her friends about. My daughter does not share much about her life with me, much to my chagrin, so when I find something we can bond over, I take it, even a sucky (pun intended) novel. It turns out something we have in common is we both read and enjoyed the Twilight series when it was all the rage to do so. We got caught up in a movement, and it was fun. Here's an even nastier little secret about me: I'm on "Team Edward" and I think people on "Team Jacob" should have their heads examined.

Earlier this year, I told my daughter she might like to read Beautiful Creatures (see yesterday's blog post), as it would probably be of interest to those who also like stories about sparkly vampires. "I think I'm done with sparkly vampires" she answered. Later that week I found her Twilight poster in the garbage. She is maturing. There are other things she wants to read. Things that are more sophisticated, and more interesting to a sixteen-year old.

So just what kind of a feminist do I think I am, anyway, extolling the virtues of a trashy novel that is rather dis-empowering to women, and "letting" my daughter read them, to boot. I am a feminist who knows that young women are smart enough to make their own decisions about what to read, and then to distinguish fantasy from reality. A feminist who knows that girls are completely competent to read something and then contextualize it, and critique it, and discuss issues such as stalking; and whether girls need a boyfriend to protect them, or make them complete. A feminist who is not afraid to discuss dating and sex with my daughter, much to her chagrin! I did not "let" my daughter read Twilight. She is an incredibly intelligent young woman who can make choices for herself. I also know that if I tried to tell her she wasn't allowed to read it, that she would have found a way to read it. Parents who think they can forbid their teenagers from reading something are completely fooling themselves.

I've talked to her about fantasized aspects of this book, especially regarding sex. For instance a girl who asks a boy for sex is not going to receive this response: "after we're married" (snort - don't watch this scene while drinking milk!)  Another, unlikely scenario: two virgins having sex together for the first time - a magical experience in which the young woman can surely expect to climax - not bloody likely! (again, pun intended). I must admit that it was a nice touch for Edward to make Bella an omelet the next morning, though.

Of real concern, though, is the way libraries are dissed, at least in the first book (which I re-read in order to write this post-I don't like the series enough to have re-read them all, though). The lovely Bella mentions the Forks public library three times. Twice to say how woefully inadequate it is, and once uses as a convenient lie to her hapless father so she can sneak out with her vampire boyfriend.

I wrote this post months ago, and waited until Banned Books Week to publish it. In the meantime I happened upon this other feminist perspective of the book written by a young adult librarian who likewise points out that we don't give young women enough credit to think for themselves.

The Librarian - by Larry Beinhart

Beware the librarian who knows too much! In this political thriller university librarian, David Goldberg, finds himself targeted by Homeland Security for information he allegedly learned by helping an eccentric billionaire archive his papers. He is framed for bestiality (of all things) and goes into hiding in order to save his own life.

This book reads like a handbook for buying an election. Big spenders, behind the scene's deals, and top secret documents combined with Beinhart's thinly veiled characters, and real-life events, made me feel almost as paranoid as the poor librarians who were being stalked (and murdered) in this work.

This book boasts at least four different kinds of libraries: the university library where Goldberg works; the Library of Congress; a community college library; and the private library of billionaire Bill Stowe described as

...wonderful, the literary portion of the dream that was the house. While we [the university library] were closing earlier and earlier and cutting Sundays and holidays and our walls were blank and barren and the steel shelves were unadorned and it all flickered under that shuttering light that flourescents put out, this had mahogany shelves and tungsten lighting and fine comfortable furniture. 

So clear here that rich people deserve good libraries, and the rest of us do not. This point is also made evident earlier in the story when Goldberg must fire one of his librarians. He tells her

The chancellor of the university has a privately funded study that he received from the Heritage Institute, on libraries...and it says that there are far too many physical volumes. That all this can be replaced, except for some rare volumes of historic value, perhaps, by a great cyber library, one library for all accessed from our home and office PCs. That would cut down on the need for almost all librarians, except for cyber ones and it would make all this space available...for classrooms or dorm rooms, which actually earn money.

Those who make these comments really make clear that they either don't understand, or don't care, that libraries are places where those who don't have homes, or offices, can get access to information.

In addition to Goldberg, there are several other librarians in this work. Bookish Elaina Whisthoven (the one who is fired) is described in a rather stereotypical way

Elaina Whisthoven loved books and presumed they would love her back and she wanted to serve humanity, so she became a librarian. She wore large glasses and had large curls that were always clean and always brushed and never styled. She lived like a nun  on her meager starting salary in a room she rented from a retired professor and his elderly wife...

Whereas, head librarian, Inga Lokisborg

with an accent as thick as hand-cut bread [is] a crone, judgmental, and by librarian standards, fierce. The lines on her face are like the fissures in layered shale, her eyes, overall, are the color of slate, but there are chips in them the color of bluestone...

She also has a surprising sexual secret.

Finally we learn briefly about hapless librarian Larry Berk "a wonderful man whom God has mistaken for Job."

There is a lot of commentary in this work about different kinds of information, and knowledge, and how it is used (or not) in order to create reality. This page-turning dark comedy will make anyone who reads it think twice about what they believe they know.