Mexican Whiteboy

This one took some getting into. It's a rough read -- the author, Matt De La Pena, more or less drops you into Danny Lopez' world without a lot of background. And Danny is a kid caught between two cultures, neither one of which feels precisely like home. Hence the title.

But it could have been called Mexican Blackboy just as easily, because the story passes back and forth between Danny, who is half white, half Mexican, and Uno, who is half Mexican, half black. Both long for their fathers: Uno to live with his, away from his abusive stepfather, and Danny just to find his, who's gone off the radar, possibly to Mexico.

I chose this one to review, not because it's new -- it's from 2008 -- but because it recently showed up on a list of books for reluctant readers and boys, which are sometimes the same thing. It has a lot of baseball stuff in it; Danny is a pitcher with a golden arm but he can't control his delivery in clutch situations. He is socially awkward, never feeling like he belongs. He is too dark, too Mexican for his San Diego prep school, and among his Mexican relatives in National City, he is too light. Also, he speaks no Spanish; he is completely left out of about 50% of their conversations. Still, he chooses to spend the summer with his Mexican family.

The language in this book is very coarse, but authentic. Having grown up in the Southwest and having attended a high school that was about 15% Hispanic, the characters' voices are true-to-life as I remember them, and having taught high school for 10 years, I can vouch for the swearing -- there's a lot of it, just as you'd hear in most high school corridors. There's also drinking, pot smoking, and drug dealing (talked about, not actually done). And there's poverty. Most of the people in National City are poor. And many of them are hopeless in their poverty.

The language was hard to get over, but there is much in this story to recommend it. I found myself really bleeding for Danny, who wants so much to know his dad and can't figure out what he did to make him leave. One possibility, he thinks, is that he's just not Mexican enough for his dad. His distress runs very deep. He has more or less quit talking, fading into the background. But at the same time, he's developed a habit of digging his fingernails into his forearm to remind himself he's human. He's done it so often, his arm is scarred. And he writes long, imaginary letters to his dad in his head; letters in which he tells his dad how successful he is, how popular. None of it is true: it's his deep, deep longing for his father to want him, to approve of him. His emptiness, his fractured spirit, got to me. I wanted to deck his stupid mom, gushing on and on about her new (white) boyfriend, the successful San Francisco businessman, while totally ignoring her son's pain, his utter lostness. Her selfishness was hard to take.

There's a subplot with a girl named Liberty, another "halfie" who speaks no English. It's part of Danny's oeuvre that he longs for her and yet can't communicate with her at all, both because he can't speak Spanish and because he can barely speak around people anyway. Danny does resolve some of his issues, both with Liberty and his dad (who (SPOILER ALERT) he discovers is actually in prison). It puts a different complexion on things to know his dad isn't staying away because he doesn't love him. However, before he figures out where his dad is, there's a scene of breathtaking violence in which Danny witnesses his uncle run a man down and then beat him senseless, and then run over him again, breaking his legs. It's meant to give Danny (and the reader) a glimpse into the psyche that landed his dad in jail, although Danny doesn't understand it that way yet -- he only knows that this violence somehow reminds him of his dad. Danny is so horrified, he vomits, and frankly, I got a little queasy myself. It's a powerful, visceral scene, not for the faint of heart.

I'm on the fence with this one. On the one hand, it's authentic, it's compelling, it's got real emotional depth and is an insightful portrait of what abandonment, divorce, and parental selfishness do to kids. On the other hand, it's authentic in the roughest possible way, and that isn't a pretty thing. So I'm going to be a weenie and not come down on either side of this one, except to say that it's a high school book ONLY -- no lower. And an upper high school book at that. It's rough, but it has its merits. Just be aware of what your child might be in for if this one pops up on a booklist and consider well whether your child has the maturity to deal with it.

Fire

Fire, labeled as a companion to Graceling, by Kristin Cashore, is every bit as strong as Cashore's debut novel, and a darn good read. Unfortunately, it is once again targeted to an audience for whom some of its subject matter is just not going to be appropriate.

Fire is a monster, which in the fictional kingdom of the Dells means she possesses unnatural coloring (her hair is flaming red -- poppy, vermillion, fuschia), unnatural beauty, and the unnatural power to control others with her mind. The Dells are home to many kinds of monsters -- royal blue leopards, chartreuse birds of prey, lavender mice -- all of whom have this power to control with the mind, though in varying degrees. Oddly enough, the food they crave the most is other monsters, so Fire is constantly in danger of being monster lunch.

Human monsters are rare and their lives are deeply complicated. Either loathed for their abilities or over-loved for their eerie beauty, they are perpetually in danger. The book is very clear that one danger Fire faces wherever she goes is rape -- some men simply can't control themselves around a monster woman.

Fire is caught up in the royal family's attempt to thwart an overthrow of the kingdom by a pair of rebel lords. The reason the kingdom is in such a sorry, vulnerable state is because Fire's father, also a monster, helped run it into the ground with the previous king. Fire is trying as hard as she can to be different from her pleasure-loving, thoughlessly cruel father. And she is, but many assume the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. There is a second plot involving a character from Graceling where Fire becomes the target of a monster-collector.

This book is listed as "grade 9 and up" but to me, that's far too young. Right from the beginning, it's made clear that Fire, who is 17, has a lover. The book does not describe their encounters explicitly at all, but their relationship is casual and Fire has no desire to make it permanent by marrying Archer. Archer, her childhood friend and lover, is not faithful to Fire. He has a number of casual rolls in the hay, two of which result in pregnancies. Cansrel, Fire's father, is portrayed as extremely cruel. He almost certainly kills a dog of Fire's that nips her accidentally. Likewise the book tells us he has compelled women to sleep with him, then killed the women who became pregnant, not wishing to share his world with any monster children, even his own. He is a drug addict and a sadist and he feels that his mind power entitles him to control others. The former king punishes one of his lords by having his wife raped. He punishes his Queen's lover by having his legs crushed. Many people get killed in this book, mostly minor characters, but one or two major ones. And their deaths have emotional repercussions -- these aren't comic book deaths. In fact, Cansrel's death (and life) continue to have far-reaching consequences for Fire and the royal family.

If you read my earlier review of Graceling, you'll know I like Kristin Cashore's books. I just can't figure out why publishers think these books are for kids 14 and up. Infidelity, rape, casual sex, sadistic cruelty, murder...I don't know. It just doesn't scream "Kid Book" to me. I enjoyed this book -- in fact, I could hardly put it down -- but it's a book for adults.

Graceling

Some debut novels feel like a first effort; they stretch their wings a bit, wobble a tad until they find their groove. But some debut novels burst out with such a sure hand that you are instantly swept into the story and only handed back your consciousness when you've finished the ride. This is one of those books -- a great book. Once I started it, I could. not. put. it. down.

Katsa is a graceling, a person with eyes of two different colors, denoting some special skill or "grace" that is an integral part of her nature. All gracelings become the property of their kings, sent home only if their grace serves no useful purpose. What a person's grace is is not always immediately clear, but after a frightening incident when she was 8, Katsa's grace seems to be killing. Naturally, she is now of great use to her uncle, the king.

She is trained and she is dispatched to and fro across the kingdom, enforcing her uncle's edicts, underscoring his displeasure, punishing his enemies -- or perhaps just those who annoy him. This is her life. And graced as she is with the ability to bring death, she seems powerless to change her situation.

Enter Prince Po, the seventh son of the Lienid king. He, too, is a graceling, but his home is one in which gracelings are free citizens, not merely the tools of their king. Graced with fighting, his personality, his presence, is a revelation to Katsa and causes her to reinterpret her role as king's enforcer.

Their story begins with the kidnapping of the Leinid king's father. Who took him? Why? Katsa finds herself in the midst of a quest for answers and when she finds them, she realizes that the fate of all the kingdoms hangs in the balance,

This book is a compelling read -- fast, but not insanely so; full of action, but also thoughtful. Both Katsa and Po must grow into their graces, both literally and emotionally. Katsa in particular must find a way to come to terms with her grace, perhaps even reinterpret it entirely.

I was surprised to find this book listed as a children's book, recommended for ages 8th grade and up. Here's why I think this is maybe a high school book (perhaps for seniors), but probably really more for adults:

SPOILER ALERT (don't read farther if you don't want to know some critical stuff):

Because of her relationship with her uncle, which is that of master-servant, Katsa decides never to marry; she doesn't want anyone to have power over her again. She does not reconsider this position, even when she and Po fall in love. She makes clear to him that she will not be his wife, but she will be his lover. They sleep together, and while this is not described explicitly, they obviously enjoy their sexual relationship. They leave their relationship open-ended -- perhaps they will stay together forever, perhaps not. I rather think they will stay together, especially in light of the book's ending and the way in which they remain committed to each other in spite of the changes in their graces, their political situations, and their physical health. But the escape-hatch mentality is central to Katsa's being.

Katsa and Po are in their 20s, so it's perhaps to be expected that they aren't going to keep their relationship platonic -- precisely why I think this book is really more for adults. Their decisions about their romantic and sexual lives are those of adults, but they're being presented to kids. These are not the attitudes I want my children to develop about love and sex and marriage.

There's quite a bit of violence in the book. It's not overly gory, not even particularly visceral, but Katsa kills and tortures people for her uncle, so much of what she does is fairly unpleasant. Her own unhappiness about this underscores the gruesomeness of her job. Then, too, there's King Leck, whose sadistic love of hurting young girls is not for the faint of heart. That scenario alone makes this for older kids -- high school at least.

In spite of this, I can't stress enough how much I liked this book. I felt for Katsa, whose ability was subjugated to someone else's will. I liked Po and the way he pulled Katsa out of herself. And I loved the mystery they solved together, only to discover that the solution presented a far more deadly problem than either of them realized.

A great book, just a little mistargeted in terms of audience.