A Wrinkle in Time, 1963

“We want nothing from you that you do without grace,” Mrs. Whatsit said, “or that you do without understanding.” (page 215)

Dear to my heart, A Wrinkle in Time is a book of substance and inspiration, eloquently underscoring the importance of selflessness, wisdom, patience, and a healthy dose of impatience and stubbornness, as well. If, in these past few weeks, I have dragged my feet about posting a review, it is because I struggle to find the right language to talk about the book. I can toss adjectives all over the place, but I don’t have the words to do A Wrinkle in Time justice. Madeleine L’Engle has written those words already! Forget me; go directly to the book.

However, I will do my job and write. A Wrinkle in Time introduces us to Meg Murry, a smart but troubled girl who fights for and worries over her family. Meg’s father, a scientist, has disappeared. Meg’s brother, Charles Wallace, is misunderstood. Townsfolk pry and gossip and tease, and everything is just all wrong. Then the mysterious Mrs. Whatsit comes calling; and Meg learns that she, Charles Wallace, and friend Calvin O’Keefe are the only ones who can save her father. But doing so means confronting the oppressive force of IT.

Why do I love this book so much? See that quotation above? A Wrinkle in Time brims with statements of that sort—ideas that I find both surprising and natural. I want to act with grace and with understanding. I would never have known to put that desire into words, yet now I have those words to help guide me.

Father said it was all right for me to be afraid. He said to go ahead and be afraid. And Mrs. Who said—I don’t understand what she said but I think it was meant to make me not hate being only me, and me being the way I am. And Mrs. Whatsit said to remember that she loves me. That’s what I have to think about. (p 226)

As I read the book, I feel close to Meg Murry and learn from her. Since my first reading of A Wrinkle in Time, many years ago, I have sympathized with Meg, “the snaggle-toothed, the myopic, the clumsy” (p 107). Her struggles and faults are real, which makes her achievements more meaningful. In fact, I chose to read this book directly after I read Twilight because, when I searched in my mind for an antidote to Bella, Meg Murry came immediately to mind. Brave Meg, sweet Charles Wallace, and unassuming Calvin. Indeed, apart from IT and its minions, I would like to meet every character in this story and get to know each one better.

Likewise, the worlds explored in the story (there are several) are vivid and distinct. The language used to describe them is not necessarily sophisticated, yet the author creates a clear sense of otherness. Landscapes both beautiful and repulsive are inhabited by beings unique not only in appearance but in the very way that they live, think, and understand the Universe.

“What is this dark? What is this light? … They have told us that our atmosphere is what they call opaque, so that the stars are not visible, and they were surprised that we know stars, that we know their music and the movements of their dance far better than beings like you who spend hours studying them through what you call telescopes.” (p 199)

Most of all, at the core of A Wrinkle in Time is love. I have thought much about this recently, but I am not articulate enough to make profound conclusions fit for a blog or anyplace. Suffice it to say that, in this book, love is not merely felt. Love is proven. Love is a summons that must be answered, and love is the answer to that summons. Is that profound enough?

I would not say that A Wrinkle in Time is the book to end all books. It may seem outdated to some. It gets a little cerebral. It may have other faults as well. But it is a literary luminary, for sure.

. . .
L’Engle, Madeleine. (1962) A Wrinkle in Time, cover art by Taeeun Yoo. Square Fish, an imprint of Macmillan; originally published by Farrar, Straus, and Giroux, New York. ISBN 978-0-312-36754-1

The 2009 Oregon Book Awards

I realized recently that I never followed up on the 2009 Oregon Book Awards. I heard readings from three of the finalists when I attended Wordstock; see my October post Wordstock in Review. The awards have been given, and the list of winners and finalists looks appetizing! You’ll find them at this Literary Arts site.

I am glad that Convictions: A Prosecutor’s Battles Against Mafia Killers, Drug Kingpins, and Enron Thieves went on to win the Sarah Winnemucca Award for Creative Nonfiction. It was among the books I heard from at Wordstock. The author read well, with earnestness and sensitivity.

In the meantime

I am completely dried up. It has been a long, slow week of writer’s block. My only solution is to draw from experience and tell you about my day. This is it

favorite black shoes
favorite blue scarf
wind
the word autumnal
just missed the train
eyes on the horizon until
the next train
eyes closed through the tunnel
the texture of asphalt
voices
an art museum
a streetcar
the act of crossing
There is a DVD-ROM with pictures on it. There are errands to run.
There is an open door.
There is a visitor.
I am the visitor.
such happiness
words and books and memories and
What will become of us?
But, in the meantime, we are happy.
—
just missed the streetcar
clicking of heels
no hot chocolate, just
blocks of the city
restaurant smells
suddenly
thinking in Russian
words forming
dust
red lights
walk signals
empty store fronts
the act of waiting
There is a bookstore on the corner. It sells Fowler’s Modern English Usage.
There is a woman carrying the book, title facing out.
(She hopes someone will see the book in her arms,
and they will know something.)
I am the woman.
such happiness
words and books and memories and
What will become of us all?
But, in the meantime

In and out of place

In case you are wondering, I still exist. I have simply had a busy day, and I am not inspired to write.

I stopped by Portland State University today. It was strange. Finals week is approaching; everyone was running around. The computer labs were packed. I felt like an invisible witness to all this.

It was one of those somber days when I am never pleased with myself. I kept thinking of how I should be working and acting, what I should be doing and saying. Nothing fit. Perhaps being at the university (where I no longer belong) brought about this sentiment.

However, I saw many expressions of happiness. People on campus, in the coffee shop, at the MAX station, talked pleasantly and enjoyed each other’s company. And, I must say, it was a good day to be out and about in the city.

Moreover, I am not as far out of my element as my words might lead you to believe. I completed a satisfying editing project on short notice. When I edit, everything falls into place (though the work is not always easy).

A Short Note about a Short List

The Pacific Northwest Booksellers Association (PNBA) released its book awards short list. And it looks great—time to add to your reading list! Among the many worthy titles, one catches my eye for a particular reason: All in a Day is written by Cynthia Rylant, who won the Newbery medal in 1993 for Missing May.

Books, Nooks, and…Vooks?

After writing those two reviews of Twilight, I’m feeling pretty drained. But seriously, folks, today a word from the publishing industry:

Last Monday I attended “Words Worth Paying For? Publishing in the Age of Electronic Readers,” a panel discussion about the future of publishing. On the panel were Katherine Dunn, local novelist; Vailey Oehlke, director of libraries for Multnomah County; and Dennis Stovall, coordinator of curriculum for the publishing program at Portland State University and publisher of Ooligan Press. The panel was moderated by Al Stavitsky, director of the George S. Turnbull Portland Center at the University of Oregon School of Journalism and Communication. Altogether, that is four great people and a lot of job titles.

Barry Johnson wrote about the evening for the Oregonian; you can read his article here. The discussion focused on electronic reading and its effect on our world. Electronic reading devices such as the Kindle (from Amazon) and the Nook (from Barnes & Noble), as well as reading on computer and cell phone screens, are on the rise. How will they change the way in which we read? Katherine Dunn made some insightful remarks about the incorporation of audio and video into e-books: vooks, as they are sometimes called, may even be able to squirt out some kind of scent to go along with the story. This is all very novel, and I wonder how this kind of interaction will affect both reader and writer.

When e-books come up, there is always a commotion about their replacing traditional books. Generally, the panel and audience felt that physical books would still be read for quite some time. The overall feeling was, too, that both physical and electronic books have merit and that technology is offering us enormous potential for both efficiency and creativity. Katherine Dunn expressed concern over the continued digitization of entire libraries: electronic archives can be damaged or lost. I appreciated her points about keeping “hard copies” of original material—not only to maintain the integrity of our history but also to preserve a physical history of the art of bookmaking. And I share her concern about the keepers of electronic history: will all this information be held in good hands? What are the consequences if some or all people are denied access?

Indeed, accessibility was a concern for the panel and audience alike. A lot of voices chimed in about the “haves and have-nots.” As we rely more on technology to do our reading, more information (aka more books) will be converted to and created for e-reading devices. Where does that leave people who do not have e-devices? We talked about this in the comfort of the largest city in Oregon. The discussion might have been more urgent and more intense elsewhere: as a friend pointed out, towns in rural Oregon represent some of the technological “have-nots.” She works for a library that still maintains collections of cassettes and VCR tapes because the community still uses these devices. This community has the sacred right to read. Will the rise of e-books deprive them of this right?

A conference room full of authors, readers, publishers, and librarians can talk for two hours about e-publishing and still have more to say. So there’s no way that I, with my limited knowledge and time, can do anything but skim the surface of a conversation that is ongoing and going on worldwide. As an editor, I frequently encounter e-publishing. Indeed, I have to stop writing now and get to work on some articles that will be published online. But I will share more thoughts about e-publishing whenever I am able to do so.

Unhealthy Diet: Twilight, part II

I sat without moving, more frightened of him than I had ever been. I’d never seen him so completely freed of that carefully cultivated façade. He’d never been less human…or more beautiful. Face ashen, eyes wide, I sat like a bird locked in the eyes of a snake. (p 264)

To all my friends who adore Twilight, please know this: I love you. I am going to examine your book critically, but remember: I love you.

And I love Twilight. But I love it as escapism, as a sensual, suspenseful vacation from everyday life. My concern is for those who are not able to make the distinction that Twilight is fantasy or who, though capable of making the distinction, choose not to.

Twilight is a romance. Romance is not necessarily love. And I fear for those readers, especially younger ones, who take Twilight as the measure of a healthy relationship. Though the first-person perspective is one of the book’s strengths, the perspective is skewed: Bella’s attitudes and actions are alarming. And Edward, gorgeous Edward…Edward is the kind of man who can only exist in fantasy. If he were real, women would feel quite differently about him (or so I should hope).

Bella is in love, and the reader relates very strongly to that. However, when Bella’s decisions are examined closely, red flags spring up. One of the most book’s most thrilling scenes takes place between Bella and Jacob (a newfound friend), when Jacob unknowingly reveals to Bella that the Cullens are vampires. Bella gets goosebumps. The reader does, too. The next day, Bella goes into the forest alone to think and choose.

I didn’t know if there ever was a choice, really. I was already in too deep. Now that I knew—if I knew—I could do nothing about my frightening secret. Because when I thought of him, of his voice, his hypnotic eyes, the magnetic force of his personality, I wanted nothing more than to be with him right now. (p 139)

Wait—what? You have resolved to take up company with a vampire because you like (1) his voice, (2) his eyes, and (3) his magnetic personality?

Of course, this is a romance novel. The reader doesn’t expect it to be particularly deep (though good romances can be). Nor is there an expectation that the book will seek to understand and explain the nature of true love (though good romances can do that, too). But it is dangerous for Bella to base her decision on these criteria, especially on the “hypnotic” and “magnetic” characteristics. As Edward himself points out, he is built to be charismatic: it is part of the attraction predators have to their prey. Bella is locked in the eyes of a snake, indeed, and the reader is distressed that this does not occur to her except as a poetic abstraction.

Hot Dish: Twilight, part I

Bella Swan is the new face in Forks, Washington. She has moved up from Phoenix to live with her father, the chief of police in this small Northwest town. Though Bella just wants to get settled as quickly as possible, on her first day at Forks’ high school her life takes a turn for the bizarre when she meets Edward Cullen, the youngest in an aloof family. Edward’s unpredictable reactions to Bella and his superhuman abilities fascinate and drive Bella to discover the truth: the Cullens are a coven of vampires. But, even as she knows that her life is in danger, she is drawn to Edward. And Edward is helplessly in love with her.

Yes, I have read Twilight. And I feel like I’m faced with the task of writing the Mother of All Book Reviews. Why? Because Twilight may not be the mother of all books, but it is everywhere. As I write, I feel the presence and pressure of the book, the three sequels, the movies, the actors and actresses, the interviews, the television appearances, the sneak peeks, the premiers, the screaming fans, the fan fiction, the websites, the tabloids, the radiant faces of a planet of women bursting with passionate longing for a vampire or an actor or both.

Where do I fit in? How can I not be crushed flat in the fray? Nonetheless, I read and review books, so here I go.

First of my two-part review of Twilight, this post features my take on the book’s popularity among teens, women of all ages, and—me. I quite enjoyed reading Twilight. The story drew me right in and did not let go. Why? Whence its power?

Simply stated, Twilight pushes all the right buttons. It has attractive protagonists, well-paced action, and romantic tension. It develops themes that speak directly to teenage women and men.

Twilight’s first strength is Bella. The story is told in the first person, from her perspective, which gives every event an immediacy and allows the reader to immerse herself instantly in the Twilight world. Bella starts out as the kind of young woman that I relate to. She is smart and studious, responsible for herself and her father, and content to be above teen interests, such as dances and dates. Better still, she is terrible at sports (I gave a secret sigh of commiseration): “I had always been slender, but soft somehow, obviously not an athlete; I didn’t have the necessary hand-eye coordination to play sports without humiliating myself—and harming both myself and anyone else who stood too close” (p 10). Bella is such an understandable character that the reader can slip herself into Bella’s place when she meets Edward and falls in love with him. The romance, consequently, is subtle and strong: a magnetic force.

Independent Bookstore Week

Before I launch into my two-part review of Twilight this week, I’d like to point out that this is the first Independent Bookstore Week in New York city. More information can be found at http://www.ibnyc.org, or go directly to the events calendar.

Indies of New York, I wish you a wonderful week. Indeed, best wishes to independent bookstores everywhere.

Driving to Vernonia: An Editor’s Tale

Last Thursday evening I traveled to Powell’s Books in Beaverton to hear George Byron Wright read from his new novel Driving to Vernonia. It was stormy outside, so an excellent evening to be surrounded by books, to think about books, and to contemplate life.

In particular, to contemplate mentorship. George began his talk by encouraging everyone in the audience to think of a mentor he or she has had. Driving to Vernonia places its hero in a similar situation. But circumstances (and a determined sister) demand that Edmund Kirby-Smith not only think about his mentor. Edmund has to climb out of his shell to seek him out. Thus the novel takes us on a journey to look for Richard Vickerman. The search is a surprising one; it makes strong demands on Edmund. And, though it is an enjoyable read, Vernonia doesn’t let readers off easy, either. It asks that we think about our connections to others, and it raises our awareness of some timely issues.

Earlier this year, I copy edited George’s book. So it was a real treat to see Vernonia at Powell’s and to hail the book’s publication. As George read the first words from his novel, I felt a thrill. I had read those words, slowly, carefully, many months ago. To hear them spoken in a bookstore was wonderful.

There exist certain myths about editors. Like all myths, these spring from things that do, in fact, occur: an author receives a rejection letter, an editor suggests that an author omit a favorite scene, a manuscript returns to its author full of copy-editing marks. However, the acquisitions editor who gleefully rejects hopeful authors, the developmental editor who rips an author’s story to shreds, the copy editor who criticizes every detail—these are stereotypes. Oh yes, every editor is different; and, as in every profession, there are bad apples. But, on one Thursday evening in one town, there was a proud editor who attentively listened to the author read in a bookstore. And that editor is one of thousands who do and feel much the same.