Friday, March 20, 2020

An Unnerving Ride

The Underground Railroad by Colson Whitehead
New York : Anchor Books,  2018.
1st Anchor Bks. ed.
313 p. ; 21 cm.

This was supposed to be Spring Break week, and instead it has turned into the start of an extended period of school closings and home isolation for weeks (no one knows how many) as the Covid-19 pandemic picks up the pace of its global onslaught here in the US.

I am so glad that one of the novels I brought home with me for the break was Whitehead's The Underground Railroad.  The novel was published to huge acclaim - winning the Pulitzer Prize and National Book Award, and I heard it described as a fantastical tale of historical fiction where the figurative Underground Railroad is turned into an actual subterranean working railroad.  I was a bit skeptical - but - wow! - if you haven't read this novel, it is a must read.

Whitehead has also won one of those MacArthur "genius" grants and all I can say is "Yes!" and admire the foundation for recognizing him way back in 2002 when he had only written two novels. He writing is a thing of wonder.   He manages to do so many things right in such a complicated and yet accessible way.  He can create history that never was in order to make the history that was come alive in eerie and unsettling ways.  He made me mull over the (literally) tortured history of this country and the nature of human cruelty and courage in ways that go right to the heart.

Yes, Whitehead's Underground Railroad has real tunnels, tracks and locomotives - but you never for a moment doubt it.  And his narratives of enslaved life and the escape narrative will have your heart racing as you turn the pages rooting for the heroes of the novel.

It is such a thrill to read a writer's work when they are in their prime and to know that you are reading someone whose works will be read and admired long after you are gone. It is a thrill and an honor.

Can you tell I loved this novel?  Recommend it. Read it.  Sit with it and let it work its magic on you.  You won't be disappointed.

 

Thursday, March 12, 2020

Before the Road

Parable of the Sower by Octavia Butler
New York : Warner Books, 2017, [2000]
345 p. ; 21 cm.

I was pretty excited to learn that the creative duo who brought Octavia Butler's Kindred out as a best-selling graphic novel  has published another graphic novel adaptation of a work by Octavia Butler: Parable of the Sower.  But before reading the graphic novel, I wanted to read Butler's original novel.

I'm so pleased that Butler's work is experiencing a renaissance of late. Her work is powerfully imaginative and touches on so many relevant themes: racism, injustice, violence, social upheaval, displacement, and compassion.  Additionally, her stories are exciting and her writing engaging. Parable of the Sower is no exception. Set in California in the future (2025) there is a lot that is familiar - technological achievements, drug addiction, police corruption, gated communities, poverty, climate disruption, corporate greed, crime and violence - but the negatives are ramped-up to the extreme. Civic institutions - police, fire, and civic institutions - have become worthless, corrupt, and sometimes dangerous, while violent individuals and bands of criminals wreak havoc on small communities that seek to protect themselves with walls and guns.  Out of this maelstrom a small band of refugees looks to create a new society, led by the protagonist of the novel, a young 18 year old woman. She is a mystical figure who wants to start a new religion, Earthseed.

Parable of the Sower reminded me a bit of Cormac McCarthy's The Road which was written long after Butler's novel, but shares some of the same disturbing views of the savagery of human nature. 

I'll be interested to see how the the graphic novel version of this is.  Our library has it and it has been getting excellent reviews.   

If I find a student who is interested in afro-futurism or dystopian fiction, this is a book I'll definitely recommend.



Monday, March 2, 2020

Stranded

Damselfly by Chandra Prasad
New York : Scholastic Press, 2018.
259 p. ; 22 cm.

Damselfly isn't a bad book, in fact it makes for a good escapist read, but it's not a very good novel either.  This contemporary shipwreck (airplane crash actually) remake of Lord of the Flies just feels thin to me.  The set-up is a group of about a dozen teens from an elite school plane-wrecked on a remote island in the South Pacific, where a new social order emerges as the weeks pass - an order based on manipulation, violence and emerging racial tensions (Asian Indian Americans vs. white kids).  There's also danger from a mysterious presence on the island that threaten them (we assume it's a person since it writes messages in English). If you are wondering, yes, the reader does eventually find out the identity of this threat.

It think - like many shipwreck / stranded tales - the best features are the struggles to carve out a survival against the cruel indifference of nature.  The strongest parts were when simple things like getting sick or injured are shown to be the dire situation they are when stripped of the bene that civilization offers.

In contrast, I just didn't find the battle for domination to be all that believable or interesting.  It is a short novel, and too much just gets hurried and rushed in order to squeeze in the various little (and big) character conflicts.

The novel ends with the reader wondering what will happen next. In some novels that seems like a cop-out, but for this story I thought it was a fairly satisfying end.