On Native American History Month

According to the Powers that Be, November is Native American History Month. What that means, I'm not entirely sure. And though some would argue that a month is not a long enough period of time in which to honor the diverse populations of peoples who fall under the category of "Native American," I think that it is important that we at least set aside our country's overwhelming whiteness and consider cultures that we don't usually pay much, if any, attention to.

In my personal quest for identity, I have tried (but usually failed) to recognize the teensy tiny bit of me that isn't the spitting image of Whitey McGee. But there is a drop of non white blood in me. This doesn't seem to matter though, since I am arguably the most Germanic-looking person in the whole wide world and people literally laugh at me when I tell them otherwise. But I'm telling you, guys, I know it for a fact. It is part of my freaking birth story that I am one thirty-second Cherokee. At the very least, my great great great great biological sperm or egg donor was a full-blooded American Indian. 

But that doesn't matter. I don't have much right to claim that heritage. 

But let me move this conversation out of the personal and back into the political (if that is indeed possible). Without a doubt, Native cultures are problematically presented in all forms of media. It just so happens that I ran into this blog whose author is more equipped to discuss all the various ways in which this happens--especially in the realm of children's literature. Some pervasive examples of the problematic way in which Native Peoples are portrayed include dressing up "like an Indian" for Halloween and the recent fetishization of all things branded "Navajo," especially at Urban Outfitters. Also, take for example the National Museum of the American Indian in Washington DC. Admittedly, I haven't been there in several years, but damn, that place--even when it was still brand new--was terribly unorganized. I felt that it didn't try to distinguish tribe from tribe or culture from culture. It just lumped all Indians into one giant category. Very frustrating. 

I've read a lot of books about American Indians for a history class a couple years back. There was no textbook--because let's be real about what kind of historical information usually exists within textbooks; rather, we read a slew of historical fiction including Waterlily, On the Rez, A Yellow Raft in Blue Water: A Novel, Stone Song: A Novel of the Life of Crazy Horse, and Choteau Creek: A Sioux Reminiscence. We read these books chronologically in terms of when the action was taking place in the novel, which was very interesting. Also important to note is the fact that the great majority of these books were about Lakota people, including the Oglala. Here's your prescription for a better life: read these, stop celebrating Columbus day, and call me in the morning. 

But those are adult books. 

The blog I linked to earlier--American Indians in Children's Literature--is concerned, like me, mostly with books for children. But on her site I couldn't find any anything about Tomie dePaola's picture book The Legend of the Bluebonnet. So I guess I'll talk about it a little bit here. This is an important book to look at because, in addition to Native American History Month, it is also Picture Book Month! 

I (and we've established here that this "I" is about ninety-seven percent white) like this book. I think it's a good retelling. The book does not claim to be written and illustrated by Tomie dePaola. Instead, it is "retold and illustrated" by its author. I'm a big fan of the Author's Note, in which dePaola says 

When doing a book based on a legend involving real people, it becomes a drive to find out as much as possible about their customs and way of life in an effort to portray as accurate and full a picture as possible. 

How anthropological! And I think Tomie really did his research. He specifically notes that the people in the story are Comanche; they aren't generic "Indians." And, he seems to know that Comanche live in tee-pees and wear their hair long and in two braids (two facts that Google supported more than thrice). I think a really great paper could be written about the illustrations in this book and how they represent, or misrepresent, the culture at hand. Or a paper that decoded the different variants of the legend would also be fun to read. OR A BLOG. Any takers?

The only weirdness that I can find in the text has to do with the stake that appears on the front cover of the book and one other time within the text. It has a shield or maybe a dream-catcher of sorts on it with a moon and stars. I'm not really sure what to make of this since I can't find anything about it in my (albeit very limited) research about the Comanche. 

The book also has some very interesting messages and interpretations concerning childhood. Without giving too very much away--the protagonist in the book makes a big sacrifice and saves her people. This maybe is a little bit like our culture's idea about children as the only hope for the future, etc. dePaola even mentions in the Author's Note that he believes the story to be 

a tale of the courage and sacrifice of a young person. [The protagonists's action] represents the decisive sort of action that many young people are capable of, the kind of selfless action that creates miracles. 

So we can see a little bit here that dePaola has his own ideas about children, and that they generally reflect our culture-at-large's idea about children.

Anyway, another book you and I ought to read this month: The Legend of the Indian Paintbrush. I just requested it from the library, so maybe you'll get to hear about it soon.

And for class Monday I have to read The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. Maybe I'll tell ya'll about that next time, too. 

Fancy Nancy

To list and/or talk at you about all of the billions of books I've read since September would be too great a project for me to attempt. Instead, I'll just tell you about the books I read while sitting criss-cross-applesauce on the floor of Barnes and Noble.

To escape the giant Nook displays and over-sized discount coffee table books, I went to the children's section, where I always go, because it looks colorful and feels safe. Though it was almost nine o'clock (P.M (Eastern Standard Time)), there were children there and their mommies were reading them gimmicky Halloween stories. That made me miss my parents. I browsed in the chapter books and then the picture books. I got teary and weirdly nostalgic. And then I came across and read Love You Forever, and got even tearier.

Then another, much cheerier book caught my attention: Fancy Nancy and the Mermaid Ballet. Now, I had seen some of these Fancy Nancy books before and they looked pretty to me, certainly, but I discounted them as a modern fad (like Pokemon or Harry Potter). But there was a mermaid on the front. A mermaid. So I read the book cover to cover, standing awkwardly in front of the shelf. Then I wanted to read more. Maybe there were more mermaids (there weren't). I plopped down on the hard carpet and pulled all of the in-stock Fancy Nancy books off the shelf and read them alphabetically. I've decided they're alright. The illustrations are truly lovely, though. They are so watercolor-y and soft. I especially love Nancy's orange hair, which is always piled up so curly and messy and Miss Frizzle-y on the top of her head. 

These images do not do the covers justice. In real life, they are glittery! And the covers are made of this slippery, slicksmooth paper.

Besides the picture books I read on the floor of Barnes and Noble, there are also I-Can-Read Fancy Nancy books and all kinds of other paraphernalia. It can be so overwhelming, especially for a collector of Fancy Nancy things. Just Google her. There are toys and dolls and even birthday cakes. As far as the books themselves go, they are maybe a little girly and didactic. But so pretty.

Fancy Nancy isn't the best thing to happen to children's literature since Peter Pan, but she sure is exactly how I imagined myself to look whenever I played dress-up. And I like that.

Winter is Coming: Opinions on (A) Game of Thrones

When my roommate put a gun to my head and forced my watch HBO's Game of Thrones, I made a promise to myself that I wouldn't read the books. Why read a book when you've already committed the worst crime possible against said book by seeing the film adaptation first? By insisting that I would never hold in my hand a copy of George R. R. Martin's A Song of Ice and Fire books, I felt that I was excusing myself from any blame.

And after ten plus hours of lying on our stomachs staring at a laptop screen on the longtime un-vacuumed carpet in our South Oakland living room, I fell in love with the show. But I stuck with my convictions: I loved the TV series, but I felt a strong responsibility to never read any of the books.

Fast forward several months and the rest of Season 2 and I've added Game of Thrones to my favorite TV show list on Facebook. And then the roommate whose fault it is that I even gave this show a chance comes to visit Jake and me in Boston and finishes reading the first installment of the series while here. Something came over me and I borrowed it from her. The horror!

And then I read it.

I think it's fair to say I wouldn't have picked it up organically in a bookstore. It's fantasy through and through, thus not my usual taste. Though, I have been adapting to the genre a little. It's arguably "high" fantasy, but I'm dealing with it by focusing on its historical and literary borrowings. For example, it has a lot of hints of Arthur, the War of the Roses, and Lord of the Rings. All of those things I am able to stomach.      

                 

That being said, the book was long, but I found that the HBO series was near faultless in its rendering of the first novel. The various points of view translated very well to screen. That impressed me. Otherwise, I felt only a small urgency to continue with the series (in terms of reading, not watching). I did buy the next book in the series, A Clash of Kings, from Target. I fear I won't get to it until December (winter is coming...).

All in all, I would suggest the series if you are a) really into fantasy, b) really into British history and literature, or c) if you really need to know what is going to happen next. When it comes down to it, I certainly plan to read the rest of the series within the next 365 days. I'm glad I picked up the book, but for a gal like me, it seems that this is the one instance in which the television series seems to have given the book its necessary justice.

Summer Reading

It's been a while, dear reader! You'll have to excuse me. I've been a little busy graduating from college and whatnot. I just found out this morning that I passed philosophy--so you can all stop holding your breath. 

So now what? Working at Justice, that's what. It's not as bad as it looks. The worst part is coming to terms with moms who say to their daughters "Just pick out anything you want, honey!" I was never allowed to pick out anything I wanted unless we were at the library. Maybe this is a clue as to why I dress like a 50-something who can't be bothered by fashion and have chosen to dedicate my life, more or less, to reading the same sort of books I read when I was eight.

Christy and I went to the Carnegie Library last week and I forced her to waste a half  hour of her life in the children's section. I checked out Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator, The Magician's Nephew, and Redwall.

This one because I don't think that the book gets enough credit. Though the movies are pretty good adaptations (I have a weird soft spot in my heart for Tim Burton and who doesn't love a good Gene Wilder meme?), I think it's a shame that so many Roald Dahl books have been made into movies. As a rule, I didn't see the movies until after I'd read the books. This wasn't the case for most kids though, which I consider to be a bummer.

I can't remember if I've actually read Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. I know that it was read to my second grade class (and then we watched the movie). So, I'm reading it again. I also have never even touched the sequel, so I'm giving that a shot too. 

The Magician's Nephew is the first in the Chronicles of Narnia series. Ugh. As you are all aware, fantasy isn't really my thing. You use that information to conclude for yourselves how I might possibly feel about an allegorical Christian fantasy. 

Ah, Redwall. As a middle schooler, I just could not get into these books. I had a really hard time suspending my disbelief. I had (and still have) lots of questions. Do humans exist in this world? Is it like Beatrix Potter stories? How do the little animals make glasses for themselves? If so, they obviously can't be the glasses that we think of in modern times because they do not not yet exist. It's just stressful for me. If you have any insights on this, please let me know. I'm talkin' to you Hannah and Sierra, especially. I remember you ATE THESE BOOKS UP. And I hated them and preferred to read realistic fiction. Such a little weirdo I was.

Anyway, I'm reading the first in the series (and that is all because there are like one million of them (not really, only twenty-two) and I can barely stomach this one). But don't think I hate all books about little rodents. I remember quite well Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh. One of the best books I've ever read. So there, I'm not entirely prejudiced against talking animals.

Oh, there's a movie of Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of Nimh too. I don't really remember it but it really doesn't do the book justice at all. It seems I'm frustrated with film adaptations today. So sorry. Also, I vaguely remember an animated Redwall TV series on PBS. Needless to say, I didn't really like it. Any thoughts on that from Redwall fans?

* * * 

This morning I was devastated to hear about the loss of author and illustrator Maurice Sendak. I can't even begin to describe how important his works are to the children's literature canon. I can't really say any more on it, but please read here. It's a beautiful tribute. And this, a way to remember.

Spring Update

I've read a lot in the past several weeks--most of which does not relate. Something I have not read is The Hunger Games. Maybe I'll read them this summer. Maybe not. But in any case, I certainly don't want to talk about it now or here. Or ever.

In other news, I've been recently accepted to a dual degree program at Simmons College in Boston for English and Children's Literature. So, expect a lot of children's book posts in the future. I know you're excited. That being said, I need to formulate a list of books/authors that I need to read before then. Help from you, reader, would be appreciated.

Though I am generally very critical of fantasy, Harry Potter and The Lord of the Rings are about my only exceptions, I think I'll include some C. S. Lewis on the list and maybe some Madeline L'Engle--but that's only a maybe because I hate Hate HATE A Wrinkle in Time. I'd love to reread a bunch of Dahl and Seuss and Sendak, too.

Do you ever feel like there's so much out there to read and that you haven't read enough and that by the time you die one hundred years from now you're not going to be any smarter than you were when you were twenty-one? Yeah, me too.

Speaking of Harry Potter, last Friday there was a mini Harry Potter conference at Pitt put on by the Children's Literature Department, in which I presented a paper I wrote for Fantasy and Romance last semester. It was a lot of fun and there was free breakfast and lunch. Two children's lit gurus came from Kansas State to talk about Harry. It was a pretty big nerd fest that day, but also really fun. Everyone knew stuff about Harry Potter and you didn't have to be sneaky about who killed whom and who died in Order of the Phoenix and what happens in the epilogue. Good stuff.

This Friday, there will be a similar event in which I will present a paper on Roald Dahl's Matilda, one of the best books I've ever read. More free food and English nerds!

Now, on to the things I've been a-readin'.

The Cat in the Hat
The Phantom Tollbooth 
The Canterbury Tales 
The Lais of Marie de France
Are Prisons Obsolete? 

Things I've a-written:

"Fall From Grace: The Blink-182 Story"
"Biopower, Security Moms, and Juan Williams"


Like, what the h e double hockey sticks have I been doing this last semester? Medieval romances, Blink-182, and prison abolition, that's what. Sometimes classes cross over and make sense together. Not this semester.

Of the above readings and writings, the most important has been Are Prisons Obsolete? by Angela Davis. This woman will blow your mind. I can't even begin to articulate how important this book is to read. It's quite brief but very poignant. In short, the prison industrial complex has taken over our lives. Prison is modern-day slavery. Read this book. Then talk to me about it.

The Phantom Tollboth, which I had somehow managed to go my whole childhood (and adulthood) without reading until now, was pretty good. A little didactic at times, this book is relatively imaginative without being disgustingly fantastic. It sort of reads kind of like School House Rock, if that's what you're into.

That's enough for now. Maybe I'll post more frequently or maybe I'll start writing more interesting posts about stuff that matters. Likely not.

Song of Roland

This is going to be a boring post.

I say that because it's about a Medieval text: The Song of Roland. This is what happens when I take required literature classes my second semester senior year--oopsie. I really prefer American literature and, obv, children's.The poem isn't really that bad if you pretend like it's a movie--think Braveheart. It's all about Charlemagne and his nephew (who may or may not have actually existed). It's a pretty alright read the second time around. Don't get caught up on the nuances of the text; rather, I recommend that you get caught up on the blood and guts, namely brains oozing out of ears and swords cutting through soldiers' heads and faces. Fun fun!

   

I recently fished this book. 

Don't read it; I'll give you the gist. So, basically, taste is complicated. Also, we're culturally conditioned to like things that are "cool," and we're determined to gain as much cultural capital as we can throughout our lifetimes. Got it? Yeah, me too.



On Music and Criticism and Music Criticism

So I'm taking this Song as Literature class, not because I'm pretentious and knowledgeable concerning "good music"--in fact I have kinda bad taste, but rather because it's required that I take a senior seminar for my literature major and songs seemed like the smart cop-outty, poetry-like option. WRONG-O. It's hard. And the readings are hard. And I don't like the 1960s anymore. Don't get me wrong, Bob Dylan's my douchebaggy homeboy, Pete Seeger's like my ideological socialist grandfather, and Janis Joplin is who I aspire to be. But reading about the 60s is always so nostalgic and so nauseating. I don't want to deal with the em effing Beatles or the Rolling Stones because I don't care about what they supposedly stood for (which is SEX in bright red capital letters because the 1950s were the most repressive decade ever, so I hear, and we needed break free from The Man).

Anyway, I don't like to read music criticism, especially anything by the late cracked-out Lester Bangs--and yes, "cracked-out" may well be an anachronism in this instance. I think when you write about music and read about music it takes the magic away. It's just opinions and personal preferences and nonsense. Who cares about what your life was like before and after you listened to Astral Weeks? Not this girl. When people write about music, they become nostalgic and jaded. Gross.

I will admit, though, that music is one of the most telling aspects of a culture; we can learn a lot about a decade or a movement or a generation by listening to its music. So this is what I advocate: please, listen to songs. Don't write about them.         Go on, get to it.

***

If you want a little taste of the Bangs' stuff I'm referring to, czech this out. It is, admittedly, one of his better pieces. It takes a more historical approach than "James Taylor Marked for Death," which I wouldn't recommend you read unless you're okay with the cuss words they won't let you say on TV and graphic metaphors.

Oh, and if you want to listen to something really, solidly good that came out of the past, listen to Kris Kristofferson's album Border Lord. I would even suggest buying it. Seriously. My mother has it on vinyl, and oh, it's marvy.

Fleuries, Songbook, and Complaints

It is flurrying in Pittsburgh. (Insert over-used pun on "flurry" and "Fleury" here.) No big surprise there. What is surprising is that there has only been one other time while I've been in this overcast city this season that it has snowed. Honestly, I miss winter. The 'Burgh is out-of-whack because of the weirdly warm weather. The Steelers are not going to the Super Bowl; Pitt basketball is just awful; and the Penguins have lost six games in a row--six!


But on to books: I got the new Philippa Gregory book for Christmas with a Barnes and Noble gift card. I haven't had a chance to read it yet what with all of my grad school applications. This is what it looks like.

So pretty.

For my classes, I'm not reading that many books. Boo, I know. And the ones I am reading suck for the most part. For example, we just read (the great majority of) Songbook by Nick Hornby. I don't even know what to say about it. It was dated, boring, and preachy with the ugliest cover you could possibly imagine. What is the point of an ugly cover? Shouldn't someone fix that somewhere along the line? Doesn't some high-paid idiot (like Buddy's biological father in Elf) get paid a lot of money to make sure that book covers are attractive so that when bookstore browsers, a nearly extinct species, judge books by their covers, they are more likely to pick up a certain book and buy it over another? I'll stop. Without further ado:

Hideous. Doesn't make any sense, either.

That's all I've got for you, reader, at the beginning of this heinous semester.