Quite a Year

Of course 1968 was, as the subtitle puts it, "The Year that Rocked the World"--that was the year my husband and I were born. Turns out that's not the only earth-shaking thing that happened that year.

In 1968, Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and Robert F. Kennedy were shot. 14,954 U.S. citizens were killed in action in Vietnam. Many more Ibo and other minorities died of starvation in the Biafra/Nigeria civil war. (And if you want to read a wonderful, sad novel about that, read Half of A Yellow Sun by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.) Soviet tanks invaded Prague, ending some of Czechoslovakia's early democratic reforms. Protests broke out all over the world. Fidel Castro was becoming a hero to American New Left. And American anti-war demonstrators, wounded by police, sought refuge in the lobby of the Conrad Hilton hotel in Chicago during riots at the Democratic national convention.

Mark Kurlansky's book, 1968, recounts the seismic shifts that were occuring throughout that year. This is not my usual reading material! I listened to the audiobook version, which is likely the only way I would ever finish it. Even so, the sheer number of names and places reminded me of my less favorite high school history classes (not you, Mrs. McBride!), when dates and places would numb my mind, and I'd resort to painting pictures with Wite-Out in an effort to stay awake.

However, here my interest was held enough that I actually learned some things. It helped that the narrator was a British man with fun pronunciations, such as saying "massages" for "messages." And there were several times that Kurlansky quoted from others and caught me up short, such as Robert F. Kennedy's suggestion that a growing economy is not always the answer. "Yet the gross national product does not allow for the health of our children, the quality of their education, or the joy of their play. It does not include the beauty of our poetry or the strength of our marriages; the intelligence of our public debate or the integrity of our public officials. It measures neither our wit nor our courage; neither our wisdom nor our learning; neither our compassion nor our devotion to our country; it measures everything, in short, except that which makes life worthwhile. And it tells us everything about America except why we are proud that we are Americans."

Also, this quote from Albert Camus: "Those who weep for the happy periods which they encounter in history acknowledge what they want; not the alleviation but the silencing of misery."

1968, according to the author, was the beginning of the end of the Cold War. Canadian Prime Minister Pierre Trudeau ushered in the era of leaders chosen for style over substance.

It was the year that the image of the heroic war was tarnished, and America saw the brutal reality of Vietnam, courtesy of live television footage. Interestingly, this led to a sharp change in the way war movies were made--audiences were no longer to be fooled by bloodless warfare. Audiences demanded more realism, which led to the alteration of the level of violence allowed in movies.

As I listened to Kurlansky's words about the young protestors, it fascinated me that the Baby Boomers, a generation that fought so many different fights for rights and idealism, eventually spawned what is now being called Generation Me for its purported narcissism. How did one generation go from working so hard for world change to rearing children who are famous for self-absorption?

This book will give readers a good basis for understanding what occured in the 60s and beyond. Unfortunately for Brian and me, it is apparent from this book that our births did not rock the world. But isn't it pretty to think so?

Gary Schmidt's "Okay For Now"

Doug Swieteck, we hardly knew ye. The class clown in The Wednesday Wars has the starring role in Gary Schmidt's latest book, Okay For Now, due out April 18. This book is wonderful.

Doug still loves baseball and the New York Yankees. Holling Hoodhood even makes a cameo appearance. However, Doug's story is very different from Holling's. At the start of this novel, Doug's less-than-perfect father decides (regardless of the rest of the family's wishes) that it's time to pull up stakes from Long Island and start over in a small mill town in upstate New York.

The town of Marysville does not welcome Doug Swieteck and his family with open arms. And Doug has other problems. His mom is worried about his oldest brother, Lucas, who is in Vietnam. His new gym teacher and principal have it out for him. And the librarian isn't so fond of him either.

This novel will be very accessible to middle school readers. Doug's thought patterns follow his colloquial speech patterns, and you experience each event with him. The story and Schmidt's writing is compelling. Doug's abusive father, jeering high school brother and sad, but beautiful mother come alive to the reader, and they do not become caricatures. Each character has motives and problems of their own.

Doug is struggling to decide just exactly who he is, even as different members of the community try to decide that for him. But Doug isn't the only star here; Schmidt weaves in art composition lessons via Audubon's birds, Vietnam veterans, a budding romance and, of all things, Jane Eyre. And, of course, baseball. 

Okay for Now is both entertaining and soulful, and anyone who is or has been a middle schooler will appreciate Doug's situation. Keep the Kleenex handy. And I suggest that you read it as soon as you can. On that note, Gary will be signing books at a release party on April 8 at 6:30 at our very own Pooh's Corner (sorry, out-of-towners!). Put it on your calendar now!

Of Patriots and Protesters

If you are around my age (you can do the calculations in just a moment), you remember the 1976 bicentennial celebrations all around the U.S. on the 4th of July. I remember wearing my favorite off-white peasant blouse and cutoff jeans, riding my bike swathed in red, white and blue crepe paper. The excitement was palpable, and my chest burst with pride. My already patriotic town pulled out all the stops. I think I also remember fireworks laid out near a football field that blazed the shape and colors of the American flag. We knew we couldn't live any better place.

That was when I was 8, and blissfully unaware of the protests and unrest of the years not so far gone. The Vietnam War was still in my blind spot.

Eli the Good, by Silas House, is a young adult novel about a 10-year-old boy whose father, a Vietnam vet, begins to suffer from post-traumatic stress disorder during the summer of the bicentennial. Eli is left trying to interpret the tension between his father and his aunt, who participated in anti-war protests. He has no idea what is changing his father so dramatically. His beautiful, loving mother spends herself trying to keep the peace. His older sister is angry for her own reasons.

Eli picks his way through the minefields, eavesdropping on everyone in an effort to understand the shift in his world. He takes and reads his father's letters from Vietnam. He is surrounded by people he loves and who love him, and none of them are who they should be.

One part of the novel that I particularly enjoyed was Eli's relationship with his best friend, Edie. Edie is tough and independent, and their bond is a strong one.

This book is certainly not written for a 10-year-old, because of its themes, even if the protagonist is 10. As I mentioned in an earlier post, it seems a bit too nostalgic for a young adult reader, but perhaps I'm wrong. I'm a little fuzzy on the audience.

If I get beyond that, however, it is a beautiful piece of writing. It interweaves wonderful, flawed people who are paying a price they do not understand, when all they wanted to do was the right thing. They walk the fine line between love and anger, and life threatens to split at the seams.

House is a nature lover, and the characters echo his love. He describes trees, light, and solitude in such a lovely way, just as he did in the novels for adults that I've read previously.