Saturday, February 27, 2010

Musings on Madapple, by Christina Meldrum

The reviews of Madapple enticed me: "spellbinding"; "haunting"; and my favorite, "Theology is on trial in this extraordinary first novel" (Publisher's Weekly). Yet, the book sat in my school library for nearly a year before I read it.  Although I truly enjoyed the book and loved its premise, I was somewhat disappointed with the ending.

Despite my desire for a cleaner finish, I recommend this book and compare it to Tender Morsels, by Margot Lanagan, for its depiction of powerful, brilliant, yet flawed and often self-destructive women who must construct worlds of fantasy in order to survive the cruelties they have suffered.

Madapple blends botanical lore, religious fundamentalism, incest, and family dysfunction in a setting both contemporary and ancient.  Aslaug and her mother, Maren, live in the remote woods of Maine, relying on Maren's botanical knowledge and an extreme distrust of the outside world for survival until Maren's death from cancer.  Aslaug flees from her home and the misguided efforts of a social worker to discover, in a hazy and accidental manner, her mother's sister and her cousins.  Hidden from Aslaug is the secret that she is the child of incest, born of her mother and her grandfather, but it is from her new family that Aslaug seeks knowledge of her father's identity.

Immediately recognized as Maren's daughter, Aslaug's aunt and her cousins bring her into their home, ruled by feverish religion and addiction.  Interspersed between Aslaug's narration of her life, are murder trial proceedings of the deaths of her mother, and later, of her aunt and cousin with Aslaug as the accused, balancing the surreal setting with a grounding realism.

The reader is thereby able to establish a broader perspective than that offered by Aslaug or the court witnesses, and I appreciated this distancing from the fuzzy, curious combination of indoctrination and scientific wonder that defined each member of Aslaug's family.

Despite the harsh isolation of Aslaug's childhood, she absorbs her mother's knowledge of the sciences, ancient mythology and multiple languages and is soon used  for her talents.  Although she is ill-equipped to defend herself against the machinations and manipulations of her family, she is able to love and forgive, and provide the resolution to an otherwise improbable ending; Aslaug is exonerated by her  surviving cousin, who also fathered her child in a drug-induced seduction.  Together with her cousin, Rune, her child and Rune's wife, Aslaug forms a new family, determined to never repeat the lies and isolation her mother forced upon her....(A hopeful message, perhaps, but not a forceful antidote to the wrongs Aslaug suffered).

The most intriguing elements of this novel are both academic and psychological.  Meldrum establishes connections between botanical science, ancient mythology and Christianity throughout the novel.  Her female characters survive extreme violation through incest and abandonment by turning to science, mythology and Christianity.  To be able to weave  such distinct disciplines and histories as these into a compelling story is artful and ambitious.  Meldrum leaves the role of religion in Aslaug's life open to our interpretation, and offers the reader subjects for further research: the relationships between folk medicine and science; mythology and Christianity.

In addition to Tender Morsels, I also compared Madapple to White Oleander, by Janet Fitch.  Like Madapple and Tender Morsels, White Oleander documents a mother and daughter's travails, caused in large part by the mother's addictions and warped sense of justice.  Despite the abandonment of their daughters (both psychological and physical), the mothers deeply love their daughters but are unable to live in conventional society.  The daughters are, therefore, defenseless when they must live in the "real world".  Another similarity to these novels is their northern European ethnicity.  Perhaps I should read Toni Morrison's Beloved, to gain another perspective on the complexities of mother/daughter love that is ultimately more harmful than life-supporting.

Are these novels expressions of a type of feminism?  Mothers abused or abandoned by their fathers, grow up unable to provide nurturing love and stability for their daughters, yet these daughters (except, of course, in Beloved) develop survival skills and a higher level of consciousness than their mothers...primarily because they have had to either "mother" their mothers, or they have had to leave their mothers.  There was no bitterness at the conclusion of these novels, but, rather, an acknowledgement that abused and addicted mothers damage families as much if not more so, than abusive and addictive fathers...that abused women are culpable; to be pitied, perhaps, but to be admonished for not seeking and obtaining help.  Isolation is not an excuse!  Retreating from society provides only temporary relief and eventually exacerbates the shame, guilt and lack of social skills needed for survival.

In order to stop the cycle of abuse and victimization, women must join society, face their accusers and abusers, and develop their minds and psyches.

Thursday, August 13, 2009

Thoughts on Tender Morsels, by Margo Lanagan

Fairy tales transport acts of human cruelty and suffering into magical worlds where the unjust are punished and the innocent are redeemed.  In Tender Morsels, Lanagan narrates a story of human cruelty and survival in an old world setting; fairy tale magic blended with real-world wisdom.

In the magic world of protagonist Liga, her heart’s desire projects safety and innocence that supplies her iwth marketable skills and a loving home for her daughters.  Yet, it is precisely this unnatural life within a sheltered world, that prevents Liga’s ability to gain wisdom.  Wisdom is of the real world and it can only be obtained through living and learning through both its cruelty and its joyful experiences.


Lanagan borrows old-world colloquialisms and several elements from the fairy tale, Rose Red and Snow White.   The bears, who befriend Liga and her daughters, represent humans, with their natural instincts of both tenderness and violence.  As Liga’s magic world begins to suffer intrusions from the real world, the division between symbolism and realism blurs, building to the climactic moment when Liga’s daughter, Urdda, and much later, elder daughter, Branza, followed by Liga, are thrust back into the world from which Liga escaped. 


Lanagan’s main characters are richly developed through inner dialogue and facing challenging circumstances.  Good ultimately overcomes evil, but not before resilience and love have been tested.  Evil, as represented by incest, rape, lust, greed and belittlement is an inherent part of the real world and it is only through the existence of evil, that love, charity and acts of goodness have real meaning.  A world without evil is hollow and cannot return the full force of love.  Passion enables good to be more powerful, while society and culture act together to tame violence and cruelty,  Liga cannot live outside the real world, nor in a world apart from a community of people without limiting her own life.

A Brief Review of Last Exit to Normal, by Michael Harmon

Fierce dialogue, searing honesty, humor and teenage angst fill the pages of Harmon’s Last exit to normal.  Set in a small town in Montana, Ben Campbell is thrown into the hard working, yet caring community of Rough Butte, where he finds unexpected love and acceptance from its people.  


Ben is determined to shed his rebellious and self-destructive behaviors, despite his anger and resentment towards his gay father and his mother who abandoned him.  His “Mom-dad, Edward, shares his biting humor and offers Ben deep friendship and balance to their nontraditional family, while Edward’s mother, Mae, provides the stern discipline and integrity that Ben adopts as his own.  


Harmon is able to focus on the essential questions of what makes a family and what constitutes manhood: courage, love, and self-discipline enable Ben to overcome his past immaturity and anger and demonstrate an independence and ethics worthy of Montanan’s pride.


If only all families could have an “Edward” or an “Aunt Mae” to provide the humor and tough love that can defuse most family conflicts.  Homophobia, abandonment and child abuse, as social issues and personal experience are difficult to address and discuss; particularly in school settings.   However, Harmon deftly discusses these issues through his characters’ innocence and unflinching honesty.


Highly recommended for mature high school students.  Visit Michael Harmon's web site for more information.

Wednesday, August 5, 2009

Brief Review of Shift, by Jennifer Bradbury

"Chrisandwin", Chris Collins and Win Coggans, are inseparable friends until a cross-country bicycling road trip ends with a missing person report and the involvement of the FBI.  Alternating between flashback and current time, Chris narrates the trip that begins from the boys' hometown in West Virginia and concludes on the Pacific Coast in northwest Washington.  Almost imperceptibly, both boys mature, steadily adding increasing risks and developing an independence; Chris from his showy friend, Win; and Win from his overbearing father.  

Interspersed throughout this coming-of-age story are detailed the technical and environmental hazards of long distance bicycling and the reader learns that the philosophy of "sharing the road" requires the kindness and generosity of strangers as much as the self-reliance and physical conditioning of the cyclists.  Bradbury combines the romantic allure of a quest for self-discovery with a mystery.  Although the mystery is fairly predictable, the essential question behind Win's disappearance is applicable to all young adults upon graduation from high school: who am I and who do I want to become?

Opportunities for geographic study and dynamic multi-media presentations through such applications as Googlelittrips.com can extend and enrich the reading of this novel.  Having recently returned from NW Washington, myself, I especially enjoyed following the changing landscapes and regional cultures of the boys' trek from the East to the West.   Teachers and students will enjoy plotting the destination and travel stops as much as solving the mystery of Shift.

Sunday, August 2, 2009

First Response to Nation, by Terry Pratchett

Terry Pratchett writes in his final author's note to Nation, "Thinking: This book contains some.  Whether you try it at home is up to you."  To try or not try at home is something of a recall joke, and while Nation has much wry humor and comical imagery, this novel is certainly no joke.  Pratchett's characters are deeply thoughtful and elements of the supernatural and exotic combine in a setting that is also historic and political.

Mau, a young Polynesian on a journey to manhood and Daphne, a young British maiden and possible heiress to the throne, meet on Mau's island, recently devastated by a killer tsunami.  A friendship and partnership forms between Mau and Daphne, who alternately and together narrate the formation and transition of a small of island of survivors to a blended nation of ancient lore and modern science.  The exotic location, replete with pantaloon birds, wild pigs and warring cannibalistic tribes is fictional, but Pratchett inserts natural science and historic references to the Age of Imperialism, creating what he calls, "a parallel universe."

Developing self-confidence, intelligence, spirituality and maturity are universal quests that challenge the cultural concepts of race, ethnicity, airs of superiority and even science.  In this parallel universe, Mau and Daphne struggle to defend and define their newly formed values and customs for the new nation.  From defending the helpless against natural disasters to disarming a mutinous British sailor, to reconstructing the old gods and government, Mau and Daphne succeed through wit and intelligence.  

"We cannot be stronger than the Empire," he said, "but we can be something it doesn't dare to be.  We can be weak.  The ghost girl told me about a man called Eyes-Ack New-Tan.  He was not a warrior, he had no spear, but the sun and the moon spun inside his head and he stood on the shoulder of giants.  The king of that time did him great honor because he knew the secrets of the sky.  And I have an idea.  I will talk to the ghost girl." (p.338, Pratchett)

Truly, this novel is both commentary on man and woman's intelligence and catalyst for thoughtful musings and discussions.

Quick Overview of Chains, by Laurie Halse Anderson

Slavery in the U.S. is commonly discussed within the context of the Civil War, yet the cultural struggle to end its practice began during the Revolutionary War.  Excerpts from diaries, public notices and letters from such notable Revolutionary figures as Thomas Paine, and British General Howe, and from common folk, slaves, and poet Phillis Wheatley, preface each chapter in the historical novel, Chains.

Anderson narrates a tale of resilience and courage through the life of a young female slave, Isabel, living in the wealthy home of King George sympathizers during the Revolutionary War.  Isabel suffers the combined misery of slavery and attending to a cruel mistress, while befriending a fellow slave and aiding the Rebellion.   She draws upon her own resourcefulness, ability to read, and the kind-heartedness of others to nurture her independent spirit and eventual escape.

The novel deftly blends historic fact with an inspiring coming-of-age story that easily allows the reader to become immersed in the language and society of the mid 18th century.  Anderson also establishes a strong female protagonist in Isabel, similar to her character, Mattie in her book, Fever, 1776.  Both Isabel and Mattie must navigate through hostile territory, suffer near-death experiences, and abandon their childhood innocence.  The continuing adventure of Isabel's escape as a runaway slave, romantically linked to her rescued friend and fellow slave, Curzon, will soon be published in a forthcoming volume, Forge.


Monday, July 20, 2009

Generation Dead, by Daniel Waters

A goth cheerleader is an unlikely combination, and the book's cover suggests a sardonic commentary on teen social life and trendy vampirism, yet Generation Dead is more concerned with bullying behavior and society's attitudes towards marginalized people.  

In this novel, dead teens return to "normal" life but face fear, suspicion and hate from most people.  Self-help groups co-exist with scientific laboratories in the attempt to bridge the alternative undead or "living impaired" with the living, while conspiratorial government agencies and vigilantes undermine their progress with violence and murder.  Yes, the dead can die again, without the ability to return to life.

Teen friendships, a romantic triangle, and confronting bullying are major themes and plot points, yet, the most intriguing questions of what happens to a person between life and death, or why only dead teens are returned to life are not adequately answered.  Perhaps author, Daniel Waters will delve further into life/death issues in the next sequel to Generation Dead.