Chaos and Disorder at Summer Camp

I’m a big believer in re-reading books, and I don’t think there’s any book I’ve read more times than I Want To Go Home by Gordon Korman.  My guess is I’ve read it fifteen times–I lost count at twelve.  Most of those times were also before the age of twelve, but I’ve reread it in recent years too, and even after all those times, it still makes me laugh.

I’ve reviewed some of Korman’s other books, about the deep metaphor of a garbage bag and a hilarious series about a boys school.  This one is another of his best.  This is a story about a summer camp for boys, held on Algonkian Island.  The story centers on Rudy Miller, who hates camp.  He’s a loner, perpetually bored, and has no interest in participating in the many sports played at camp.  His only interest is escaping–which, when you’re on an island, requires considerable planning.  Rudy does become friends with Mike Webster, a comparatively normal boy who doesn’t enjoy camp either.  Rudy has a dry wit, and is creative and intelligent–mostly using those skills to think up wild schemes for escape, dragging Mike along with him.

As per his usual setup, Korman surrounds a relatively normal lead (meaning Mike, not Rudy) with crazy characters.  To name just a few, there’s Mr. Warden, the bow-legged camp director who firmly believes that all boys love camp and never quite registers that Rudy may be a problem.  There’s Chip, the counsellor for Rudy and Mike’s cabin; he’s constantly driven up the wall by Rudy, and has a tendency to fall into the lake.  There’s Harold Greene, Rudy’s nemesis and a twit (Rudy’s dubbing).

Rudy and Mike wind up in a whole series of adventures, involving stolen boats, a pillow fight that destroys a cabin, the startling discovery that Rudy is brilliant at any and all sports, and a good dozen escape attempts.  Before the summer is over, Rudy comes very close to destroying Algonkian Island.

It’s a great book.  Simple, short, and the target age group is probably about ten years old.  But it’s very, very fun even if you’re much older than that.  If you want a quick read that will make you laugh, give it a go.  I have–fifteen times.

Author’s Site: http://gordonkorman.com/

Other reviews:
Lucky Book Deals
Amie Kaufman
SirTheory’s Treatise on Life

Yours?  And by the way–just a brief scan of reviews suggests I’m not the only one who has read this one again and again!

Favorites Friday: Phantom of the Opera

This seems to be the month for anniversaries.  Yesterday, January 26th, was the 24th anniversary of The Phantom of the Opera opening on Broadway.  Just recently they had the 25th anniversary in London.  And I’m using the Broadway anniversary as an excuse to examine probably more versions of the Phantom than you ever knew existed.  Indulge me just this once.  🙂

I’m fascinated by all the different versions, by how different people and different mediums can start with the same story and tell it so many different ways.  And how they all interpret the character of the Phantom differently–terrifying or romantic, heartbreaking or horrifying.  I have read or seen at least twelve versions of The Phantom of the Opera (which is why I’m mostly keeping this brief!)  I don’t regret even the bad ones, because I’m interested to see HOW they did it.  So here we go–in chronological order, because that’s how my brain works.

The Phantom of the Opera by Gaston Leroux (1909) is the original, and I don’t think he quite knew what he had.  It’s a pretty straight-forward monster story, and the Phantom is an almost irredeemable, terrifying figure.  He’s the most interesting one in the story, but still terrifying, and completely off his head.  It’s a good read, but don’t expect it to much resemble the Webber musical.  If you do read it, try to find the version edited by Leonard Wolf; it’s a particularly good translation and has some useful (and sometimes amusing) footnotes. Continue reading “Favorites Friday: Phantom of the Opera”

A Child Commander

Another sci fi book I’ve been meaning to read for years is Ender’s Game by Orson Scott Card.  Now that I finally have, I enjoyed it very much–and had some serious issues with it too!

The book is set an indeterminate length of time in the future, when humans have begun to venture into space but have not yet spread as in, say, Star Trek.  They also haven’t met any aliens as nice as the Vulcans–instead, they’ve met the buggers, a race of bug-like aliens who attacked the Earth 80 years before Ender’s Game opens.  The International Fleet has been preparing for a renewed war ever since, sending ships to the buggers’ homeworld that are just now getting close to arriving.  With war expected within the next several years, the IF is looking for a supreme commander to direct their forces.  And they find Ender, a six year old boy with enormous potential.

They ship Ender off to battle school, held in a space station, where Ender and the other children are meant to learn to be soldiers.  Their chief focus is the Game, a sort of combination Capture the Flag/Freeze-tag/Paintball held in zero-gravity.  The book follows Ender’s very, very swift rise, heading towards the new war with the buggers.

First, this was an extremely engaging book.  Between the outside threat to add tension and the exploration of how the school works, and how life in the space station works, it stays interesting throughout.  Even the discussions about movement in zero-gravity were fascinating.  It’s a very grim, even harsh story, but it also has a momentum and an urgency that keeps pushing the book forward.

Ender is an excellent character, very conflicted and complicated.  I think he’s basically a good person, but he’s terrified by the darkness inside of him.  And that darkness does push him to lengths that are sometimes alarming and disturbing.  Ender is a good character in almost every way–except that he doesn’t feel like a child.  And that brings me to my issues with the book.

Let me start with a different though related issue.  The book requires an enormous suspension of disbelief in its primary premise: namely, that the IF is so intent on training up Ender to be their commander.  It reads almost like a story about a prophesized Chosen One, except there’s no prophecy and it’s solely based on their assessment of his abilities.  And fine, perhaps he’s extraordinary–but they need a commander now.  I don’t want to give spoilers, but suffice to say that the ultimate fight with the buggers happens years before Ender reaches adulthood.  The IF has been planning this war for 80 years, and now at the crucial moment they want to make a child their supreme commander?  That seems, um, unlikely.

But maybe they know what they’re doing, because, as I said, Ender does not much resemble a child.  It’s not just him, either, it’s all the children at the battle school.  Officially they’re seven or nine or ten, but they behave as though they’re in their late teens at least.  Which leads me to wonder why Orson Scott Card made them so young to begin with.  It’s not a young adult book, so they didn’t have to be that young.  Perhaps it was for shock value, or a comment on child soldiers, or to emphasize their manipulation by the IF.  Those are perfectly good reasons and the book has some elements of that–but it all has much less resonance when Ender doesn’t feel seven.

I’m reminded of two other books that have parallel elements but actually handled this issue better.  In The Hunger Games, Katniss feels like a teenager.  Rue, another girl in the games, feels twelve.  They’re intelligent, strong, capable, sometimes almost ruthless, thrown into situations no child (or anyone, for that matter) should be in, but they feel like young people dealing with a grown-up situation.  I also just read a Star Wars book (more on that in another post) which had a major focus on Leia and Han’s daughter, Jaina, who’s five and has been kidnapped.  Again–brave, capable, probably genius-level intelligence, but she still seems five.  She gets scared, she wants her mother, and when she is reunited with Leia, Jaina tells her about the kidnappers but also tells her that she lost her loose tooth.  If Ender ever loses a tooth, it’s not mentioned.

I also question the battle school’s methods.  They are harsh, and intended to isolate Ender and keep him from depending on anyone.  I don’t see that as a way to make a good soldier, let alone a commander–or a person.  He’s essentially taught not to trust anyone in authority.  And how can a child who is never shown compassion or kindness, who is actually prevented from forming close ties, be expected to lead people?  They’re trying to create a tool, but they need it to be a tool that is creative, determined, and has a deep understanding for others, and I don’t see where Ender learned any of that.

And now, as tends to happen, I’ve gone on and on about the issues in a book I actually liked!  Perhaps because the ways a book doesn’t work are the most interesting to explore, trying to figure out why and how it didn’t quite fit together.  But don’t get the wrong idea here–despite the various issues I had with the book, it’s very good.  Grim, dark, sometimes bloody (I warned you!) but intense, engaging, and with some very surprising twists at the end.  And after the complete devastation of much of the book, in the end there’s a surprising amount of hope.  If you like science fiction, it’s worth the read.

I know this is a popular sci fi book–who else has read it?  Did you have any of the same issues, or can you explain why they weren’t issues for you?

Author’s site: http://hatrack.com/ (no, really–it’s not orsonscottcard.com, apparently)

Other reviews:
Book Club Babe
End of the Game
Truly Bookish
And no doubt masses more–like yours?

Finding a Book About Finding a Calling

I want to tell you a story about the wonders of the internet when it comes to finding books.  Many years ago I was in a religious book store, and I was passing the time waiting while my parents shopped by reading the picture books.  I found one about an acrobat who wanted to serve God, and somehow it stuck in my mind…but that was almost all that stuck–certainly no title or author name.

I was thinking about that book recently, and went hunting on Amazon for a religious book about an acrobat.  Within a matter of minutes I had found Tumbler by Liz Filleul, which I am 98% sure is the same book I read all those years ago–and as good as I remembered it.

Tumbler is about Tristan, a talented acrobat who travels with a troupe of minstrels in medieval France.  Everyone loves watching him, but Tristan himself admires the monks he sees helping the poor.  He believes that they’re doing work that’s really serving God.  When Tristan injures his leg one day and can’t do his acrobatics, he decides to join a monastery, believing that’s the best way to serve God.  Tristan turns out to be very unsuited to monastic life…and eventually realizes that doing what he does best is the best way to serve God.

I love the message in this book that everyone has a different purpose.  Think of it as a way to serve God or as a life calling or as what we’re each meant to do.  It’s not the same for everyone, and there isn’t any one right way to live, or one right thing to do.  I also love it that Tristan realizes he doesn’t have to force himself down a path–the right path for him is the one he already loves.

I’m reminded of a quote from L. M. Montgomery, in a letter to a friend who must have been questioning his own calling: “I do not think that you need feel worry because the line of work you take up may not be the highest.  It may not be the highest absolutely but–for you–it is the highest relatively.  The work God gives us to do and fits and qualifies us for doing must I think be our highest.”

I always like stories about following dreams and finding a purpose, and Tumbler is a simple, beautifully illustrated, profound story about exactly that.

Favorites Friday: Shakespeare Plays

I’m a Shakespeare geek, and I own to that.  I was in Shakespeare Society in high school, and many of my best memories from high school involve the Bard.  So, today, my favorite Shakespeare plays:

Much Ado About Nothing

My favorite Shakespearean comedy, featuring my favorite Shakespearean couple, the ever-sparring Beatrice and Benedick.  The play is enormously funny, with plenty of serious undertones too.  It’s a great gateway Shakespeare play, far less intimidating than many of his others.  And I can recommend the Kenneth Branagh movie.

The Taming of the Shrew

Kate is, of course, a wonderful character, and I love the ambiguous ending–is she tamed?  Or not?  My favorite filmed version is the Broadway Theater Archive, which was universally known in the Shakespeare Society as “the shirtless Petruchio version.”  🙂  But it really is a wonderful example of how Shakespeare can be fun, active, raunchy, romantic, subtle, and so very, very far from the dry droning that people sometimes think Shakespeare is.

Othello

There’s something I like about the outcast character who the girl nevertheless falls for (it’s that Phantom of the Opera thing again) even if it all goes horribly awry in the end.  I’m fascinated by the character of Iago too–I think he’s more tragic than usually acknowledged.  I read Othello, and found the last act to be a page-turner.  Even if you do have to get past Desdemona talking, after being smothered.  I haven’t seen any filmed versions of Othello–any suggestions?

A Midsummer Night’s Dream

The four lovers lost in the forest is probably my favorite scene in all of Shakespeare.  Everyone fighting with everyone else, complete mayhem and confusion, and Puck dancing around through it all…Shakespeare at his most hilarious.  I’ve seen several movies…1935 and 1999 are both good.  If you want a bizarre trip, try the 1968 version, featuring Judi Dench, Helen Mirren and Ian Holm, when they were very young.  Judi Dench plays an entirely green, mostly nude Titania.  It’s all rather odd…

Hamlet

There’s something about the tragedy of the Prince of Denmark…I don’t know if it’s the endless quotable lines, the mix of tragedy and farce, the many retellings, or just that it was the first Shakespeare play I read and understood on my own, but somehow I love Hamlet.  I’m rather attached to the Branagh version (be warned, it’s four hours) and I also enjoyed the 2009 version with David Tennant (Hamlet) and Patrick Stewart (Claudius).  Did you know IMDB gives you 73 results for Hamlet?

The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (Abridged)

And I can’t not mention the Reduced Shakespeare Company’s brilliant presentation of all the plays of Shakespeare: 37 plays in 97 minutes, with three men bouncing around the stage playing every role, and doing a convincing show of making it up as they go along.  It’s brilliant, it’s hilarious, and it will actually teach you quite a bit of Shakespeare.  You also will never again be able to take a number of Shakespeare lines seriously, but it’s a small price!