An Infestation

By the end of the day today my classroom was totally and completely infested... with Gregors from The Metamorphosis by Franz Kafka! For the past two books we've read I've assigned a creative culminating project, allowing the kids to bust out the hot glue and construction paper (better them than me). The practical part of me thinks that this is a slight waste of time, but the part of me that understands kids need to do more than just fill in bubbles and write essays loves it. For this book they were give three choices- write the prequel to the story, psychoanalyze Kafka, or make a replica of Gregor, along with a one page write up. I'd say about half the kids chose to make the bug, and I couldn't be more pleased with the results. Here are a few of my favorites:

The one in the upper left is even more awesome in person.

I hope his mom knows he stole her baskets... And yes, a cake!

The one in the upper right was brought to class via skateboard.

The one in the bottom right was made of an old sweater and soda bottles!

I think what I really love, besides the imagination, is the fact that there are so many interpretations as to what the bug looks like (that is if you believe that Gregor really is a bug). Some of the kids were more on top of the contextual clues, while some chose to ignore the book and our discussions, taking creative license.

And now I have to grade the little suckers so I have counter space again. 

Junot Diaz Reading

[Crappy Instagram picture]

Last night I once again made the 60 mile drive out to LA to see an author talk- this time Junot Diaz, author of Drown, The Brief and Wondrous Life of Oscar Wao, and his most recent collection, This is How You Lose Her. Luckily enough a friend joined me, so tackling the Art Walk traffic wasn’t too terrible. The event was put on by new-to-me Writers Bloc (they’re fall programs are amazing- Martin Amis is being interviewed by Mad Men creator Matthew Weiner next week, and then later in October Nick Hornby will working with them) at the Los Angeles Theater Center. The place ended up being packed- they actually started thirty minutes late in order to accommodate the crowd. The delay was worth it- Diaz is one of the most articulate, intellectual, culturally aware (and profane) authors I’ve ever listened to.

Since he was obviously there to promote his new collection of short stories, I found it odd that he didn’t actually read from them. Honestly, I liked this- I don’t really feel the need to hear someone read a book I’ve either already read or have never even opened. I much rather hear what the person has to say and observe his interactions with the moderator and audience. Speaking of the moderator, Christian Lander, author of Stuff White People Like, kept the night moving, serving as a sharp contrast to the racially-charged Dominican writer.

A great deal of the night was dedicated to the discussion of race- Diaz is extremely informed and involved in the Dominican community. He claims that he is a part of a “disappearing” race- he feels that while Latino numbers are increasing in the United States they are still not being heard socially or politically. He brought up some valid points, claiming that if all of the white people were “voted off the island” this idea of “white supremacy” would still exist- a new hierarchy would form and minority groups would still be plagued by the troubles they experience. His perception of race, despite that fact that he was definitely pointing out the flaws of my people, were realistic- he doesn’t expect a drastic, immediate revolution any time soon. Part of the problem, he claims, is that white people aren’t afraid of minorities, like they were in 1960s with African Americans and the Civil Rights movement. There are problems that need to be fixed, and Diaz seemed hopeful that younger generations would help bring about change.

Diaz also spoke about his life as a writer and his three works, especially during the Q & A portion of the evening. He covered the basics like masculinity and race in his books, as well as obstacles his characters face growing up. He spoke on the actual act of writing- it has taken him over a decade to write each of his novels, something that is evident in the careful crafting of both the characters and plot. I think something that I greatly appreciated, and have been struggling to get through to my students, is his brief discussion on how readers need to interact with the text. Reading literature should not be done in the same way you read the back of the cereal box or an article on who Blake Lively married last weekend (they are going to have the ugliest babies, by the way). Reading is a conversation between the author and the reader with plenty of room for interpretation. He also provided several titles of Latin American works to read- we’ll see if this white girl can decipher the titles.

I’ll end with my favorite quote of the night: “Talking about art is like kissing- you rather fucking do it.”

Applebee's Again?

I'm a sucker for first time novelists, but I'm also an admittedly harsh critic of their follow up works. If the first novel is descent, I'll read the second; if it's not as good as the first I give the author one last try. If I had ever actually dated, instead of being a serial monogamist, this would probably have been the system I used to determine whether or not to keep a guy around. It's  fair, I think. I've used it before on Curtis Sittenfeld (she ended up passing), Emma McLaughlin and Nicola Kraus (they failed miserably), and am still waiting for Janet Fitch's third (White Oleander was good; Paint it Black was painfully horrible). It works for me.

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Recently I acquired the ARC for The Red House, by Mark Haddon, his third novel. His first book, The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-Time, was quite successful, and I enjoyed the quirky story about an autistic teen's mystery. This would be the equivalent to a guy maybe taking you to a great concert in the park or an eclectic art exhibit, followed up with a dinner at a fantastic hole-in-the-wall bistro and some quality second-ish base action (I'm trying to think what this would have said ten years ago...). Haddon's follow-up attempt, A Spot of Bother, the story of a hypochondriac father, did not end up being nearly as enjoyable. The charming guy from the first date decided to take you to a Transformers movie, Applebee's and then passed out on his couch after an hour of sports highlights (as if the folding, talking cars weren't bad enough). The score was tied- his third would decide his fate.

Applebee's again? What the hell? 

The Red House definitely fell short of the expectations Haddon set forth with his first novel. It's not that The Curious Incident was an extraordinary piece of literature, but it offered a unique perspective and tried to be a little different. I don't feel like Haddon has achieved either since his debut. The Red House was boring at times, denied its characters of any depth, and failed to adequately handle some of the issues it brought forth (bullying, adultery, and teenage homosexuality). I also take issue with the fact that the publisher gave the novel a disgusting amount of praise on the back cover, claiming it to be a "literary tour de force," that the novel will "entrance" readers" and is "brilliant." The Applebee's boy is claiming that he'll keep you out and up all night long when in fact he's snoring before nine with leftover chicken wings on the coffee table.

And, for the record, I worked at Applebee's one summer in college, therefore giving me full right to use it negatively. This is not an "impress your date" kind of restaurant, boys. It's one you go to when you're married and have three kids whp will probably spill their french fries on the floor and cry when they let their balloons go (again). 

Off to read John Irving- he's definitely not an Applebee's man. 

The Narcisstic Hypocrite

I'm in love with Tecumseh Sparrow Spivet.

The irony/hypocrisy of this post is that it follows one I recently wrote about it not being necessary to love the main character of the book you reading.

And it gets worse- I like him because he is so much like me. So, basically, I'm a narcissistic hypocrite. Wow, look at everyone jumping at the chance to be friends with me.

I'm about 55 pages into The Selected Works of TS Spivet by Reif Larsen and I'm infatuated with the main character, twelve-year-old TS. He's a child genius (see, I told you he was like me) who creates amazingly detailed, accurate drawings of various scientific subjects ranging from insects to facial expressions, as well as maps. His mentor submits his work to The Smithsonian under the guise that he is an adult, leading to problems when they honor him with a prestigious award. As of now, where I'm currently at, TS declines, but I have a feeling this changes.

I think the reason why I feel such a connection with this character is because he's got a lot of strange quirks that other people don't necessarily understand. He draws his cartography tools on the walls so he knows where they go after he uses them. He calculates routes from the porch to the phone in his head in order to determine what is fastest and what is the best exercise. He fantasizes about the secret world located in the long grass on his farm. He's creating a map of a novel. He can talk about random things (two animals fighting in four feet of water) for hours.

I usually feel the same feelings towards characters as I do towards people in real life- skepticism and caution. I quietly scope out the scene, waiting awhile to take the risk to connect, and then decide if it's worth the time and energy. But, as in reality, there are definitely exceptions- TS Spivet is definitely one of these. We'll see how the rest of the novel goes.

Quality Has Left the Building

When you hear most authors discuss what goes into their novels, you hear the measurement of time "years" being used. They draft, they write, they delete, they edit, they start over- they bleed, they sweat, they cry. It's like childbirth (or so I hear).

Apparently not for James Patterson. I just read an article in The New York Observer that said Patterson has signed on for a 3 and a half year, 26 book deal with the publishing house Little, Brown. Thirteen of the books are for adults, while thirteen are for children. The article goes on to mention what we already know- Patterson doesn't actually write his books, but instead employees a team to follow his formula.

A formula. Novels written according to a formula. Ugh. All to make a few bucks- it's a business. For Patterson, it's all about the quantity- quality has left the building. And these books will make millions of dollars, while truly talented authors that do their own work have to keep their day jobs. It's sickening.

Comma Boy sums it up brilliantly in his comic (his website it full of humorous comics about the industry- check it out):

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Brainwashing the Youngins

My students are finishing up Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury this week and I gave them an assignment with some drawing components. I was very amused, and pleased. The brainwashing is working (I love The Bible by: God, which is a text discussed in the story).

We'll let not knowing how to spell "awesome" slide. Oh, and to the one above, Charlotte's Web and Harry Potter are better than A Walk to Remember. But still, you've got the rest somewhat accurate.