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Week 6: The Book Thief

1.  Because we are reading different books this week, please give your peers a brief overview of your chosen YA historical fiction novel (even if you aren't finished reading it yet).  

Liesel Meminger is a 9 year old girl who is sent away to a foster home after her mother becomes unable to take care of her. Rosa, a dirty mouthed but loving woman, and Hans Hubberman, a housepainter who has qualms about the Naxi party, become her new parents. Liesel also befriends a boy named Rudy, a boy known for staining his face black to play pretend Jesse Owens.  

The Hubbermans soon take in a Jewish man who Hans had served with during the first World War. Max hides in the basement and becomes friends with Liesel through their shared love of words. 

The book continues to observe Liesel’s time in Molching, following her growth in identity and agency. [SPOILER ALERT: STOP READING HERE IF YOU DON’T WANT TO KNOW THE ENDING]. During a raid bombing, as Liesel begins to write out her story, Rosa, Hans, and Rudy are killed. Liesel is sent to live with the mayor and his wife. When she dies as an old woman, she leaves behind her book, titled The Book Thief. 

2.  After reading "Historical Fiction: The Silent Soldier", discuss any of Sepetys' claims that particularly resonated with you.  How are you relating Sepetys defense of historical fiction as an important genre for adolescents to your reading of The Book Thief  or The Fountains of Silence?

I think The Book Thief really highlights Sepetys claim that historical fiction allows readers to read through their own cultural lens. The Book Thief is set during World War II, a particularly divisive time in recent history. As an American reading the book, I was appalled at certain aspects of Nazi Germany that I was not familiar with, such as book burnings. A German, reading the same book, might meet this scene with a sense of guilt and responsibility. To me, the book’s main themes are the power in friendships, and resiliency through adversity. 

Of course, this reading is completely my own perspective, which brings me to another one of Sepetys’ claims: that historical fiction creates a discussion for personal family history. The Book Begs the question of how one’s own family handled during World War II. My grandmother was an adolescent during World War II, coming to her own sense of identity and agency. During this period of time, the Philippines, where my grandmother lived, was attacked by Japanese Forces. My grandmother recalls a specific memory of having to climb a mango tree in order to hide from a Japanese soldier. This personal history made it difficult for me to sympathize with some of the characters in the book, such as Rudy’s father, Alex, and the mayor and his wife. This affects the lens at which I view the themes of the book.

What themes did you personally resonate with in the book?

3.  One of our points of inquiry this week involves the truths contained within fiction, and in this case, within historical fiction.  Choose a quote from The Book Thief or The Fountains of Silence that articulates a concept that feels deeply true to you and discuss it briefly.  What truths does this passage hold for you?

“He had not seen the outside world for twenty-two months. There was no anger or reproach. It was Papa who spoke. ‘How did it look?’ Max lifted his head, with great sorrow and great astonishment. ‘There were stars,’ he said. ‘They burned my eyes’ Four of them. Two people on their feet. The other two remained seated. All had seen a thing or two that night. This place was the real basement. This was the real fear.”

This passage struck me because of my connection of it to Plato’s Allegory of the Cave. In this connection, Max is the prisoner in the cave. Seeing the outside world hurts his eyes, just as the prisoner’s, and unlike the prisoner, he must return to the darkness of the basement. 

As a scene in the book, it’s disturbing to witness the result of inhumane acts. Max being unable to view the outside world, needing to stay in the basement, further extrapolates the propagandic idea that Jewish people are rats. 

As a truth to be found, the passage makes a claim of what is real and not real. Propaganda insists that the citizens need only be afraid of Jewish people. The real basement and the real fear mentioned are the sorrow and astonishment produced by the victims of the Holocaust. One is forced to think of the “truths” forced upon us by our own government, and whether or not these are shadows in a cave (or basement). I think that it’s difficult to see through these fake truths, because, just as Max and the prisoners in the cave, we grow up with the darkness. The propaganda begins at a young age: learning the pledge of allegiance, being told that the colonizers and the Native Americans were friends, the idea that MLK’s marches were completely peaceful, etc. It hurts to know the full truth of a situation, but it’s necessary in order to not live life with lies.

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Week 4: Allegedly

1.  Give a brief summary/overview of your chosen novel.  Because your pod members might have chosen a different novel from you,  it is important to give them contextual information for your's.

Mary, a 16 year old girl lives in the foster care system after having previously spent a sentence in “baby jail” for allegedly killing a three month old baby. The novel follows her attempt to clear her name, after she is told that a “baby killer” would not be able to raise a child of her own. After being impregnated by her boyfriend, Mary tries to restart her life by taking the SATs, escaping the foster system, and claiming justice for herself. Supporting characters include Momma, the woman who raised Mary prior to her imprisonment; New Girl/Sarah, a girl in the foster system who murdered her mother; Ms. Stein, the woman who runs the foster care program Mary is in; and Ted, Mary’s older boyfriend.  

2.  How could your chosen novel help adolescent (and adult) readers build critical literacy (i.e. understandings of how institutional power and privilege continue to operate in society)?

The novel focuses heavily on the failures of the prison system and foster care system to rehabilitate youth. Rather than rehabilitation, the novel details how the systems in place keep youth from ever escaping past crimes. Ted, who turns 18 while in the system, is forced into prostitution/pimping in order to make ends meet for Mary and himself. Unable to get a job or a scholarship with his criminal record, this character relies on crime to keep himself in a home. The novel also focuses on the abuse that happens within these systems, both by adults and children. Their mistreatment goes ignored, and even attempted to be hidden for the sake of those in charge. The rehabilitation that does occur is poorly handled by clearly untrained professionals. The “therapist” that visits the group home is ignorant of the situation that the children are in, having been raised in a life of privilege. The child antagonist characters are difficult to not have sympathy for, knowing that their actions are somewhat in cause by their frustrations of being within this system. 

Mary is told she would never amount to anything more than a cosmetologist, despite trying numerous times to take the SATs. After deciding to reopen her case. she is surprised and distrustful of the adults who genuinely want to care for her. She genuinely believes, and with good cause, that adults in her life are unable to do anything for her. 

The novel also gives snippets to the defamation of Mary Addison’s name due to her alleged crime. The novel makes it clear that Mary’s punishment for the crime she allegedly committed are amplified by the fact that she was a black child who committed a crime to a white baby.

Allegedly goes into detail of the small ways that we, as a society, don’t allow BIPOC children or children in rehabilitation advance in society. Mary’s numerous hurdles just to get a form of identification are evident of the difficulties the system puts in place to prevent people from advancing. The SATs are largely symbolic of the institutional disadvantages that BIPOC children face. 

3.  In what ways does your chosen novel complicate notions of justice/injustice?  What questions are you left with regarding how the juvenile justice system operates in this country?

SPOILER ALERT: 

At the end of the novel, we find out that Mary did in fact do the crime that she was accused of. What frustrates me the most about this novel is its handling of mental illness. Mary’s lack of agency comes largely from her mental illness, but that mental illness stems directly from her abuse as a child, and the system’s gross mishandling of her rehabilitation. 

The character of Momma is also clearly depicted as suffering from mental illness. Her antagonistic nature comes from her inability to see the world outside of herself. The character of New Girl is similar. 

Many of the characters suffer from mental illness, and the novel doesn’t confront how mental illness is handled/can be handled within the system. The characters largely lack agency due to their mental illnesses, and the novel depicts them as “bad” characters. Of course, they need to have accountability for their actions, but I disliked how badly the author paints mentally ill characters as villains. 

The character of Ted is also difficult to unravel. His crime, according to him, was holding down a 13 year old girl while his friends raped her. He has a redemption arc as the book progresses, but his actions are never truly antagonized like the other characters’ crimes. 

The novel is not black and white towards any of its characters, and the reader has to balance their sympathy of those who are stuck within a system, with their sympathy of the victims of crimes. 

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pages 49-50, a poem written by Stonefish documenting the abuse, often sexual, of Native American women

Stonefish turns the prompt of this section, “it could have been me”, into a poem, journal entry, and piece of art. The first thing I noticed on these pages was the color red. The red motif in the watercolor background, the flowers, and the lips point to the sacredness of the color red in the Lakota culture (from page 42). This illustrates that the author feels a personal connection to “it could have been me”, despite the phrase’s third person point of view. 

The women drawn on the top of the page purposefully are cut off at the lips. The indeterminate and vague depiction of these women point to the fact that the abuse could happen to any woman--or perhaps insinuates that abuse occurs so often to Indigenous women that the crimes are lost to the justice system and women are often left unidentified. Despite this knowledge, the women in this piece are smiling, depicting how even while enduring abuse, they remain strong. 

The numbers 12, 15,18, 19, and 21 jump off the page, being drawn in large handwriting. I think even the author’s font choice for these numbers holds meaning. The curly looping numbers point to the handwriting of a likely young person. Stonefish chooses these ages from personal experience, but they are also critical ages that mark turning points in adolescence. 

The piece relies heavily on repetition, both in it’s art and text. The first part of the text repeats the line “It could’ve been me...”, while the second part repeats the line “I will not...”. The repetition once again points to the fact that abuse happens repeatedly and often to indigenous women. The impact of Stonefish’s detail to this piece is both the grief of knowing how often abuse occurs to indigenous women but also the resilience of these women who, though anonymous, stand together. 

The illustrative nature of the piece, rather than photographic, allows the reader to insert themselves within the narrative, “it could have been me”. Inversely, the journal entry style of the piece, with its handwriting and watercolor pages, makes the piece feel personal. Reading it feels almost voyeuristic, its intimate pages recounting an individual’s experience with abuse. 

I chose this piece when I read the lines “If things had gone one step further // It could’ve been me.” The vagueness of this line creates a heartbreaking illustration of what women constitute as abuse--often downplaying the actions in order to remain resilient. I felt a personal connection to this piece because it also observes the ages in which Stonefish felt that “it could’ve been me”. She does not shy away from the fact that abuse, often sexual, happens to adolescent girls. In fact, I want to rescind any reference to “indigenous women”, and refer them instead to GIRLS. The author pointedly remarks the experiences of abused youth, the ages creating a timeline of abuse throughout an adolescent lifetime. Once again, I want to note that these ages are pivotal turning points in adolescent growth. The reclamation of one’s own body while it is still growing and changing is, to say the least, inspiring. I am slowly reclaiming my own body, and to read the words of someone who knows the pain of abuse at such a young age is validating.

Stonefish captures the intersection of her identity as a woman and her identity as an indigenous person through her narrative. Both these identities are vulnerable to abuse, both interpersonally and within systems of oppression. 1 in 3 indigenous women are survivors of rape, in comparison to the national average of 1 in 6. The piece is repetitive, which shows the all too common adversity faced by indigenous girls, but also illustrates the idea that every girl is able to overcome their adversity. Her testimudio turns the narrative of victimhood to a narrative of survival. 

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Week 2

1. In what ways do you think Sáenz's novel could help adolescent readers develop more complex and nuanced understandings of gender, sexuality, and cultural identity? Does this book authentically and effectively accomplish the goals of the Stonewall Award, which honors texts of "exceptional merit relating to the gay, lesbian, bisexual, and transgender experience"?

Sáenz writes of identity with a different approach than most young adult literature authors. Rather than focusing on one aspect of identity to focus the book around, Saenz creates characters with depth--they are flawed and beautiful. Firsthand, as an LGBT book, it is clear that it is written for LGBT readers. 

Though sexuality is not directly addressed until Dante’s letter, Ari’s perception of the world is that of an adolescent discovering his sexuality. His discomfort in the pool showers is an early sign in the book that Ari is struggling with his identity that other LGBT readers can relate to. The discomfort of being in the changing rooms during PE is an experience that many LGBT adolescents have. Other signs include Ari’s discomfort around boys, and his adamancy that Dante doesn’t kiss him. Adolescent LGBT readers are able to relate to this book in every corner of its pages. The experiences of adolescents are such pivotal points in discovering identity, especially sexuality. Dante’s question of whether or not Ari kisses girls, or masturbates captures a moment where the characters are budding into adulthood, sexuality and all. This book captures that innocent transition space (”ecotone”) that its young adult readers are in, and allows sexuality to become a part of their identity without tarnishing it with theatrics and hyperbole that other young adult literature books do. 

The book is also authentic in that it doesn’t focus solely on the characters’ sexuality. The relationships that Dante and Ari have outside of one another are just as complex and well written. Their relationships with their parents, what it means to be Mexican-American, Ari’s curiosity surrounding his older brother, and even just the boys getting jobs are all aspects of adolescence that create identity for the characters.

I think it was important that Ari and Dante were Mexican Americans. It create a perspective of how their sexuality is affected by their culture. Ari’s aunt, Ophelia, being ostracized by her family, and Dante being beaten for kissing a man, would be “expected” in minority households. Ari introduces his mother as a Catholic, implying early in the book of another identity that often criticizes LGBT people (which turns out later to be untrue). The nuances of their cultural identity are weaved into the complexity of their LGBT identity. 

2.  Choose a particular passage or quote that struck you while reading.  Why did this particular passage or quote resonate with you personally?

“Sometimes parents loved their son so much that they made romance out of their lives. They thought our youth could help us overcome everything. Maybe moms and dads forgot about this one small fact: being on the verge of seventeen could be harsh and painful and confusing. Being on the verge of seventeen could really suck”

Throughout the book, I found myself actually laughing at Ari struggling through his relationship with his parents. Though adolescent readers might find it relatable, I feel so far away from the relationship I had with my parents in high school. Now that I’m in college, they aren’t the complex human beings that I thought they were. Being on the verge of seventeen was probably when my relationship with my parents was most strained. Reading this book took me back to a moment where they were. Now, as a slightly less young adult, I look back towards seventeen through a romanticized lens, like Ari’s parents. I didn’t think I’d relate to the adult figures in this book more so than the adolescents. This quote makes me feel old. However, it also makes me feel contemplative of the struggles that I was facing, and how my parents reacted towards those. They didn’t “get” me, and it was difficult to talk to them. Being seventeen felt like a very specific barrier that was impossible to climb over. I forget that feeling and that barrier. It’s very real and tangible, and standing on the other side of it is like looking through a very blurry window. I know the struggle because I had been through them, but I no longer know the feeling of it in my heart. 

3. A brief personal evaluation of your reading experience with Aristotle and Dante,  including your connections and reactions to it.  

My first initial reaction while reading this book was a constant, “when do they kiss, when do they kiss, when do they kiss?”. I was looking for a romance novel, and was confronted with a story of two very real boys being utterly human. This book feels like a slow burn, until you realize all the aspects of the characters identities that are addressed before their sexuality. 

I love that Saenz creates such real characters, where you can’t ask someone “Are you a Dante or an Ari?”. I wanted to ask that to another student in this class, but found that I couldn’t, as I couldn’t pin either character down to any sort of trope. What’s beautiful about this novel is that while there are aspects of each character that the reader can relate to, the characters are their own selves. 

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My experience with young adult literature has been, for the most part, when I was a young adult. Currently, I cannot say that I am reading any young adult literature, but during my middle and high school years, I was an avid fan of Harry Potter, the Hunger Games, Twilight, and Wattpad fanfiction of One Direction (if that counts as YA Lit). I read a book a week, if not a book a day, during these years with my attention span somehow being able to digest novels upon novels at a time. I loved going to the Young Adult section of my local library. It was mostly populated with other adolescents near my age, and I would always see what books they held in their hands so that I could check it out the next week. I laughed with the characters, cried with the characters, and grew up with the characters. 

And yet, despite my once close relationship with young adult literature, I cannot remember most novels that I’d once exclaimed as my totally absolutely wholeheartedly favorite book ever (for that week)! My negative biases towards young adult literature come from this experience. The overplayed and tropey characters, settings, premises, conflicts, and resolutions are exactly that -- forgettable. I’d read every single John Green book published until 2016, but the continually used femme fatale character meets outspoken but nerdy protagonist that once held my heart now sends a shiver through my spine. I regret being into these novels like I regret wearing vests during these tentative years. 

However, I cannot say that young adult literature does not have its merits. The novels which do stick with me are the ones which shocked me. I grew up relatively sheltered, and the themes of drugs, sexual assault, abuse, abandonment, etc. introduced me to a glimpse of the hardships faced in the world. They planted within me seeds of empathy, open-mindedness, and caution towards adults. The novels that come to the top of my head are Lucy in the Sky by Anonymous, My Absolute Darling by Gabriel Tallent (is this a YA book?), and The Kite Runner by Khaled Hosseini. I recommend these books with my whole heart, not for mere shock value, but for their genuinity to young adults. It’s difficult finding books like these within the muddle of commercialized publications, so if anyone reading this blog post could recommend a novel or two, I’d love to hear them. 

https://www.csmonitor.com/The-Culture/Movies/2018/1005/State-violence-and-racial-justice-The-Hate-U-Give-could-sear-on-screens

The novel, The Hate U Give was published in tangent to the Black Lives Matter movement, with its premise being a sadly common event -- police brutality against unarmed black people. One point that struck me in the article was The Hate U Give’s comparison to The Hunger Games “where strong young women battle established systems.” The quote follows an anecdote where a student asks why Katniss Everdeen is white, compared to real life black girls who face systematic oppression. It raises questions such as, why IS Katniss Everdeen white? Is there enough inclusivity within genres that focus on plights which are faced by minority groups, and is the whitewashing of characters partly due to a denial of oppression to these minority groups? Is it appropriate to juxtapose a real life movement with fantasy novels, and if and how do these comparisons fuel discussion towards change? I think The Hate U GIve’s focus on real world issues is revolutionary. While fantasy has its merits, The Hate U Give does not hide behind metaphors and allegories. It “disrupts the status quo” by directly facing state violence, redlining, socioeconomic injustice, etc. that black people face. The fact that the characters are actually black tackles these issues head on. 

Personally, I think it’s inappropriate to compare novels to real life movements, unless they are directly addressing these movements like The Hate U Give does. It makes me question, if these books are so popular and mass published, why is there backlash against real revolutions towards established systems? Perhaps the controversy towards The Hate U Give comes from a denial that oppressive systems could be anything but fantasy. 

It’s important to discuss current events and social justice issues in literature. I feel like we cannot hide behind these discussions being based in fiction. Revolutionary ideas are great, but they must be realistically applied.