bravery in Hunger Games

In the course of about one week, I read Hunger Games, Catching Fire, and Mockingjay. Admittedly, this means I now need to go back and reread Mockingjay so that I feel like I really caught everything. I've also purchased The Girl Who Was on Fire to read at a later date.

Of course I loved them. But I was surprised by just how bravely written they were. 

Um. Spoilers below.

After reading enough YA, I was not surprised by the violence or that two of my favorite principle characters (Cinna and Finnick) died. What did surprise me was the way both of those deaths were written. Finnick's death (as well as Prim's) was so barely present within Katniss's more urgent focus that I almost missed it. And this felt real and true to me in a way that more heroic death scenes rarely do. While I think YA is long past the point where I would call killing off beloved characters "brave," the--what's the right word? insignificance? fleeting notice?--of Suzanne Collins killing of Finnick and Prim felt brave in its honesty. The world does not stop for death. People you love die and it takes a moment for you to even see that above the noise of the rest of your life.

The love triangle that wasn't. I applaud you, Ms. Collins. While I often have a preference when reading books that involve love triangles, I rarely think that there is really no contest. The triangle between Katniss, Peeta, and Gale did not strike me as a matter of romantic choice or as a matter of Katniss deciding who she wants to be as most love triangles are. To me, there was never any choice. Instead, I watched Katniss realize who she is. This wasn't a choice, but a developing awareness. It can be difficult to recognize and accept who you truly are, and it is a powerful story to watch unfold. So while I don't think Gale was ever actually in the running, I thought use of a pseudo love triangle as a means of self analysis was fresh.

Lastly, I loved how fucked up Katniss and Peeta are by the end. This is not the story of two heroes that motivated a revolution. This is the story of two kids who are the collateral damage of other people's machinations. And I loved it. I can see where some readers might be left dissatisfied with the ending, but I thought this was so brave and so right.

Thank you, Suzanne Collins, for a fun and courageous series.

my desperate, stupid hope

Please be warned, if you have not already read Markus Zusak's The Book Thief, this post is one giant spoiler. Stop reading now, and go read this book.  Then come back and read on. I am not going to bother writing a full review since many people have already done so. Instead, I am going to focus on what I think was the particular genius of the book -- perhaps not intrinsically, but in my experience of it. A particular emotional journey. 

Markus Zusak made me feel desperate, irrational hope.

I wasn't a fan of the character of Death. I didn't feel like I gained anything by knowing what colors were in the sky or how tired he was. I didn't need him to have a personality. What Death added, as a narrator, was his omnipotence and pretty great foreshadowing. The dangling, "he would be dead in six months," that made heartache so inevitable. Rather perfect for a book taking place in Nazi Germany.

So, by the time Rudy, Hans, and Rosa are dead, by the time Himmel Street is destroyed and everything in Liesel's life is gone, I was ready for it.  It is brutal but feels like the only possible story the little girl could have lived. Except...

Max.

Oh, Max.

It broke my heart that Max left when he didn't have to. And then I hoped against hope for his safety. We heard nothing of him, which drove me mad, but it felt right since Liesel didn't know what was happening to him either.

I maintained a stupid, irrational, desperate hope that Max was going to be ok.  I mean, of course he's not going to be ok! He's a Jew on the run in Nazi Germany! But I hoped, like Liesel, I hoped. And I justified this hope by saying, "Death has already told me about everyone else dying, so maybe no news is good news when it comes to Max's fate."

So my heart fell into my stomach when Max came through Molching on the death march. And I cried when he and Liesel had their goodbye.

I stopped reading after the bombing of Himmel Street and had dinner with my husband. I spent half the meal telling him about the story and how depressed I was and how beautifully Zusak told it. (He did not understand how anything that would upset me this much could be counted as "good." Yet the man reads Cormac McCarthy.) After dinner, I told him I wanted to finish the book but that it couldn't possibly upset me further. With everything taken from her, death would be a relief for Liesel Meminger. Or, she'd survive as the lone candle of remembrance. Either way, I was past hurt.

So yes, I was surprised and inappropriately relieved when Max came walking into Liesel's shop after the war. And while the only epilogue they are given was their hug, I choose to believe that their care and kindness slowly morphed into love and they moved off to Australia together to raise three children and die of old age. 

Shut up, you can't convince me otherwise.

I tip my hat to you, Markus Zusak. Thank you for your incredible storytelling. And for taking me on such a desperate journey of hope.

YA, paranormal, love triangles, and my psyche

One of my beta readers had some pretty serious gripes with FLIGHT.  She was mad at how my love triangle ends in the book.  She thinks my MC, Maria, made the wrong choice.  I'm ok with this gripe.

As I sat with beta reader A, we discussed why she didn't like Maria's choice and I realized that her opinions had much less to do with characterization or plot, but about her own sense of that is important in intimate relationships.  And -- now I am not about to say I am a great writer or that FLIGHT is great literature -- that's what great art does.  It holds a mirror up tot he audience/reader and makes them see themselves a little bit differently than they did before.

Carrie Ryan recently blogged about the love triangle in her amazing book The Forrest of Hands and Teeth.  The entry includes spoilers, so go read the book first.  Then read her post.

I'm a grown woman and I am happily married.  So my husband takes some umbrage that I like to read paranormal YA and that FLIGHT has a love triangle with a married woman at its core.  So let me explain why this genre, this plot, and Ryan's post speak to me.

I have a pretty strong sense of who I want to be.  And despite being considered an adult by any cultural measure, I still have no idea of exactly how to get from who I am to who that is.  In fact, I don't even think that I could truly be that who-I-want-to-be given all of the other factor and obligations in my life.  Part of why I like YA paranormal (The Forrest of Hands and Teeth, Twilight, Harry Potter, and others I can't think of off the top of my head) is that at their core, these books are about the main characters trying to work through this very dilemma.  And the paranormal component raises the stakes, states emotional truths through the literalization of metaphors (I'll have to blog on this topic separately, lots to say).

As with paranormal elements, love triangles are a manifestation of this dilemma -- who does the MC want to be?  At least the best ones -- Catherine/Healthcliff/Edgar, Ilsa/Victor/Rick, Buffy/Angel/Spike, Arthur/Guenivere/Lancelot -- are.  Notice these aren't literature's great lovers.  Love triangles aren't about romance.  I have very strong opinions about who is "right" for the torn party and each is a little Rorschach test of who I am.

But enough about me.  Go read Ryan's post, read some good YA paranormal love triangles, and learn a little bit more about who you are.