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| Author: | Orson Scott Card |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Sophisticated readers |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 12 and up |
| Genre: | Science fiction |
| Year of publication: | 2003 |
Prequels to the Ender stories; includes the original novella which grew to become Ender's Game. Fans of Ender's Game will like these. | |
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If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: First Meetings : In the Enderverse | |
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It is particularly frustrating when a book or movie or other work of art or entertainment has clearly been CREATED by a gifted person and yet espouses the view that Giftedness is a Perversion that Must Be Stamped Out. In The Incredibles, a family has to (simultaneously) hide its genetic, extreme physical gifts (which, we are led to understand, is a very bad thing) and fight an evil genius who has designed and built devices of mass destruction. Society, including the Incredible Family, doesn’t recognize that the Evil Genius has any gifts at all. This Evil Genius is also short, the only physical characteristic that politically correct people are still allowed to make fun of these days.
In many gifted circles, the animated movie, The Incredibles is acclaimed as a metaphor for the treatment of gifted. “Just look at the Incredible Girl, Violet! Her invisibility is obviously symbolic. We are all forced to hide our giftedness,” they simper. “Just like the Incredibles.”
Wrong, not like the Incredibles.
The moral of The Incredibles is that athletic giftedness is not to be hidden. Intellectual giftedness, now, that is another story entirely.
In The Incredibles, it’s the “athletic types” who are encouraged to hide their gifts. The gifts that the “bad guy” is supposed to suppress have to do with his mental acumen which he uses to augment his physical characteristics, whereas the gifts that the “good guys” are suppressing are athletic — strength, speed, flexibility.
The Incredibles does not actually champion the gifted. In fact, in The Incredibles, as in most “modern” mad scientist plots, there’s a \”reason\” why the mad scientist got to be the way he is. (Bad mother, etc.) In the Incredibles, it was because the superhero dissed him. (Kind of like at Columbine, huh?)
In this, the message of The Incredibles is consistent with other messages of our society:
The moral of this movie, as I saw it, was that athletic talents are unique but smart people are just evil and we need to nurture our physically strong people to keep the smart people in line.Have you heard that Bush’s new budget cuts subsidies for college loans, by the way? And increases the military budget. Hey, makes sense to me!
The Bee Season is another example of a genre of literature and entertainment which I call “Gifted/Unique People Hate Themselves and Others and, Because of Their Giftedness, Are A Danger to Others and Therefore Unfit to Live”. (The movie Pi is the worst of this genre that I’ve encountered, but there are many, many, many works that fit.)
Having foolishly believed the SF Chronicle’s extremely positive review of The Hulk last week, I dragged my 8 year old to see it. She cringed in her seat as the movie unfolded. The “highlight” for me was when the Hulk’s father, a brilliant but crazy scientist (all brilliant scientists are crazy, right???) tells the Hulk’s girlfriend, who is also a brilliant scientist, that his brilliant scientist son is amazing and unique and special and it’s admirable that she’s trying to be supportive of him — and then he tries to eliminate her.
Or, actually, it’s possible that that’s not exactly what happened in the movie, which is such a chaotic mess that I really couldn’t understand anyone’s motivations (and had to sit there for 2.5 hours trying to explain them to my 8 year old who was just devastated that a frog had blown up early in the movie. It’s ok to blow up frogs in a Good Movie, but to show a perfectly beautiful frog dying in a movie this bad is — criminal).
And The Hulk is SO bad that I refuse to ever see it again, so if any of you go to see it and care to explain the plot to me, please feel free.
ANYWAY in The Hulk, a whole SLEW of brilliant people spend approximately 2.5 hours trying to destroy, for no good reason whatsoever, others who they know are brilliant. Even the brilliant people who are related to each other hurt and betray and occasionally try to kill each other. It put the phrase “mindless violence” in an entirely new and unpleasant light for me.
I have recently been reading the book The Selfish Gene. And thinking How Cool It Would Be if gifted people who have attained positions in which they are privileged to create books and movies and other works that might influence up-and-coming generations would nurture the image of gifted people as People Who Love Their Gifted Children as much as other People Who Love Their Children. And who might create scientists and other intelligent people in literature who are NOT crazy-people-Driven-Mad-By-Their-Brilliance.
Aren’t the genes of gifted people Selfish too? Is it just the genes of gifted people in high positions in the Arts that feel the need to express the idea that gifted people are perversions, or is that what most of us feel about ourselves and our children?
Well, guess that’s the end of my rant. I enjoyed reading the Bee Season; finished it in a day and then — and I rarely do this — I destroyed it. It certainly is an intriguing book, but not one I’d encourage my gifted teenager to read.
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| Author: | Jane Hamilton |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | For grown-ups |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | For grown-ups |
| Genre: | fiction |
| Year of publication: | 1989 |
"What did Cinderella's mother die of?," my daughter asked me, when she was 4. I myself had never troubled to think about this. But I came to realize that, in stories for children, from fairy tales to adventures to Walt Disney musicals, the mothers' presence is usually notable for its absence. Their deaths are required so that plots can unfold. And yet, I have recently come across a few novels that consider thoughtfully the role(s) a mother may play in her daughter's future. In the two grimmest, White Oleander and The Book of Ruth, the power of the mothers to destroy their daughters despite great distance, time, and, in the case of White Oleander, despite tall prison walls, is absolute. The sorrows of mothers, say Janet Fitch and Jane Hamilton, are visited on their daughters. ... | |
Perhaps it is because the mothers in White Oleander and The Book of Ruth are so monstrous that we cannot forgive the mothers for the torment they inflict on their daughters. We hold them responsible for failing to surmount their own troubles in order to better the lives of their children and grandchildren, even when their daughters actively contribute to their own tragedies. This book is more fully reviewed in our discussion of some books about the relationships between moms and their daughters. | |
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If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: Book of Ruth | |
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| Author: | Janet Fitch |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | For grown-ups |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | For grown-ups |
| Genre: | fiction |
| Year of publication: | 1999 |
"What did Cinderella's mother die of?," my daughter asked me, when she was 4. I myself had never troubled to think about this. But I came to realize that, in stories for children, from fairy tales to adventures to Walt Disney musicals, the mothers' presence is usually notable for its absence. Their deaths are required so that plots can unfold. And yet, I have recently come across a few novels that consider thoughtfully the role(s) a mother may play in her daughter's future. In the two grimmest, White Oleander and The Book of Ruth, the power of the mothers to destroy their daughters despite great distance, time, and, in the case of White Oleander, despite tall prison walls, is absolute. The sorrows of mothers, say Janet Fitch and Jane Hamilton, are visited on their daughters. ... | |
This book is more fully reviewed in our discussion of some books about the relationships between moms and their daughters. | |
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If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: White Oleander | |
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| Author: | Jerry Spinelli |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Children 8 and up |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 8 and up |
| Genre: | fiction |
| Year of publication: | 1990 |
Modern day tall tale, beautifully written by Jerry Spinelli, whose Stargirl we also loved. Maniac's athletic gifts and personal fortitude give him entree behind the window curtains of many homes in his small Pennsylvania town, where he is privileged to share meals and experiences with old and young, black and white, humans and zoo animals. Maniac re-pays the kindness of strangers by helping to bridge, although not heal, the town's racial divide. | |
Winner, 1991 Newbery Medal | |
If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: Maniac Magee | |
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| Author: | Jonathan Stroud |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Children 12 and up |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 12 and up |
| Genre: | fiction |
| Year of publication: | 2004 |
Sardonic musings of a demon summoned by a very young, but now, successful, wizard. Bartimaeus Book Two: The Golem's Eye is a very good book, but before you read it you should read Bartimaeus, Book One: The Amulet of Samarkand, because things in Book Two will make much more sense that way. This book switches perspective between three very different characters:
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Parent's note about the Bartimaeus trilogy: As you can tell, my 11 year old really loves these books (she's finished the first two so far). But they are a bit of a departure for her -- there's real murder and mayhem in them, which, until recently, she would not have tolerated. She loves them because the narrator of the book is a djinn who stands back from the action and makes kind of sarcastic comments about the other characters and the plot.In these books, the gifted boy protagonist has been put in a position where he's been co-opted by an Evil Government because of his great intellectual abilities. The djinn has to obey the boy's commands, and a lot of the humor/sarcasm comes in when the djinn explains to the reader how morally compromised the boy is becoming. (And, to his credit, the djinn doesn't hesitate to tell the boy either, not that the boy listens most of the time.) There a complex relationship between this book and slavery too. The djinn is a slave, and even though he respects the good qualities of his boy master, he also hates having to obey his commands. Most of the time, the djinn makes this clear. But he's sometimes more supportive of his master than I think an average slave might actually be.-- Emily | |
If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: Golem's Eye, The (The Bartimaeus Trilogy, Book 2) | |
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| Author: | John D. Fitzgerald |
| Illustrator: | Mercer Mayer |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Children 8 and up |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 8 and up |
| Genre: | biographical |
| Year of publication: | 1969 |
Second volume in the first person series of one of three Catholic brothers growing up in turn of the century Mormon Utah. | |
We were amazed at the similarities and differences between then and now. My 9 year old loved this collection of stories at least as much as she loved the first installment. | |
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If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: More Adventures of the Great Brain | |
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| Author: | John D. Fitzgerald |
| Illustrator: | Mercer Mayer |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Children 12 and up |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 8 and up |
| Genre: | biographical |
| Year of publication: | 1967 |
First person story of one of three Catholic brothers growing up in turn of the century Mormon Utah. Warning: Each book in this series veers broadly from (usually) a very cheerful first few chapters, in which the happy life of the narrator's family is depicted to subsequent harrowing chapters in which death, danger, and/or permanent dismemberment often occurs. The books usually resolve relatively pleasantly, but my daughter had difficulty sleeping after reading some chapters. (Although she always insists on getting the next book in the series.) | |
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If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: Me and My Little Brain | |
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| Author: | Christopher Paolini |
| Reading Level (Conceptual): | Children 12 and up |
| Reading Level (Vocabulary): | Children 12 and up |
| Genre: | fiction |
| Year of publication: | 2005 |
We found Eragon, the first book in this trilogy (as of Spring, 2006, the third is not yet published), so involving that we were not sure we would survive until we read Eldest. And, well, Eldest is ok. We are certainly going to read the next book in the series, just as soon as we can get our eyes on it.But Eldest, like many of the middle volumes of many trilogies, was much more of a chore and less of a pleasure to read than Eragon was. | |
Perhaps this is because Eldest intersperses the interesting tale of Eragon's formal education as a Dragonrider with the travails of Eragon's cousin, Roran. While Eragon gets to hang out with the beautiful, gentle, self-involved, enigmatic Elves, Roran faces the wrath of the evil Empire pretty much on his own. And poor Roran, unlike Eragon, lacks many of the advantages that make Eragon's struggles tolerable. For example, Eragon has a dragon who has endowed Eragon with super-human abilities. Roran would also have benefited from a mentor who could have explained why the Empire was inflicting atrocity after atrocity upon Roran and his village. Roran can rely only on his considerable mental, political, and physical talents, fueled by his passion for his love, Katrina, to empower him to save himself and his fellow villagers. Eldest is bleak, much, much bleaker than Eragon. In fact, so bleak that my daughter and I often found ourselves hard-pressed to keep reading. On the other hand, when, at one point, Roran finally managed to score one of his several victories over his oppressors, my daughter was surprised and impressed. "Way to go, Roran," she cried. And meant it. I mean, many of the characters are very interesting, likeable even, even some of the not-so-savory ones. We certainly did want to know what happened to them and wished them well.Many reviews of Paolini's books have mentioned how derivative they are of the Lord of the Ring books. Since I am not much of a fan of LOTR, I can't address this point by point. Eragon certainly borrows conventions and plot twists from earlier dragon-based fantasies. It's impossible to not notice Eragon's debts to Anne Mccaffrey's dragon books. Eldest steals from other conventions as well; it seems to incorporate some Star War-ish motifs, and not to its great benefit. However, I was not overly troubled by these borrowings; I think they happen often in fantasy. What I care about is how well a book immerses us in the lives of the characters and the lands in which they find themselves. Paolini has done a good job, I think, of describing the cultures of the Elves and the towns and villages through which Roran and his allies pass. For example, when Paolini documents the way Eragon finds himself helpless to stop in his romantic pursuit of Arya, an Elf who may be nearly a century older than he is -- well, it is embarrassing, heart-breaking, and, while my daughter and I kept hoping Eragon would just stop making Arya feel that she was being stalked, we felt it rang very, very true. We pitied Eragon and sympathized with Arya for having to (repeatedly) reject him. "She's HUNDREDS of years older than you, stupid," my daughter exclaimed at one point.And there are other very lovely touches here -- Paolini's explanation of how Eragon becomes a vegetarian, for example, and the complex rules he lays out governing the use and language of magic. On the other hand, beware of graphic violence and a pervasive sense of dread in the face of overwhelming, evil enemies determined to crush the life out of Eragon, Roran, and everyone they know. And know that this sense of overwhelming danger is not resolved by the end of this, the middle, of the trilogy.-- Emily Berk | |
If you found this review helpful and/or interesting, consider supporting our book habit: Buy this book!: Eldest (Book 2 of Paolini's Inheritance trilogy) | |