Songs Inspired by Literature

This video, created by Deborah Pardes, reveals the inspiration behind the songs...LITERATURE! Enjoy!

Sold by Patricia McCormick

Lakshmi is a 13-year-old girl living in Nepal with her mother and stepfather. When her stepfather gambles away the family’s income, Lakshmi must take a job in the city as a maid. Dozens of cities and strange tour guides later, Lakshmi realizes the maid job was a cover: she is in India and has been sold into sexual slavery, with little hope of ever returning home. Written in short vignette style chapters, this novel tells the heartbreaking story of a young girl attempting to survive with only the memory of happiness to keep her afloat.

This book continues to give me chills. It is sad, disturbing, and horrifyingly true. My heart is completely broken for these young girls who live everyday not knowing if they will ever see their families again who experience the violation of their innocence on a regular basis. Written with incredible care and seemingly impossible lyricism, this novel is a much needed dose of reality. Although undeniably harsh, the story McCormick tells is one that cannot be ignored and is an important novel for teen and adult readers alike.

Luna by Julie Ann Peters

For this book blog, I have chosen to write my response in the form of a letter to the author. I had an extremely positive reaction to this text and I wanted to frame my response in the form of a thank you to Julie Ann Peters, an author who I believe has taken an incredible leap and landed with grace. I fully intend on mailing an edited version of this letter upon reception of feedback.

Ms. Peters,

Thank you. You have captured the experience of a transsexual teen with such honesty, intelligence, and heart. Your novel, Luna was a joy to read for a plethora of reasons.

First of all, you gave your characters honest, realistic thoughts and feelings. You did not sugarcoat the incredibly challenging and heartbreaking discussion or experiences that accompany coming out as a trans individual and I think this truly made your book incredible. “She loved hearing that, that she could pass. Most girls spend hours and hours working on themselves so they’ll be striking, eye-catching, desirable. Liam would give everything to live one day as a plain, ordinary girl” (54). This passage really resonated with me. I have had so many similar conversations with my trans friends who have said those very same words and each and every time it breaks my heart. You have crafted this experience with precision and truth.

I was also very impressed with your seamless interweaving of the construction of gender and gender roles within the pages of the text. This allows your reader to place him or herself within the story, even if he or she does not have personal experience with a trans individual. The passage in which Regan is describing her babysitting charges was particularly accurate and succinct: “Pretty. A word for girls. The way handsome described boys. Liam was right; people did use boy and girl language. They expected different behaviors. When kids acted ‘out of role,’ as Liam put it, they were labeled tomboys or sissies” (50). Your mention of sexuality as a spectrum is also very enlightened; a bold yet important choice for a young adult novel.

Although your novel deals with issues of transsexuality, you take special care to not lump the T in with the G, L and B. This is often a challenge and I thought you did an excellent job of separating these identities and describing them respectfully and accurately. As you know, even people who have friends or relatives who identify as G, L, B or T still do not understand the difference between them. This particular inner monologue of Regan really stuck out for me: “He likes guys. We both do. That doesn’t make him gay. It makes him as straight as me because in side he’s a girl, Dad. Just like me. You have two daughters, okay?” (123). The separation of sexuality and gender from one another in your novel is very clear-cut in a way that I think young adults can really “get.” These distinctions and definitions are important and wonderfully effective when voiced by a likeable character in a novel.

In addition, I really admired your decision to give the voice of the novel to Regan rather than her transsexual sibling. Oftentimes coming of age stories are written from the perspective of the individual going through the identity discovery/crisis themselves. I thought having Regan tell the story was the perfect way to construct this narrative. This allows the book to reflect multiple perspectives, not just that of the trans individual. With Regan as narrator, the reader can get a sense of what it might be like to support a friend or family member going through something similar. It is a unique challenge that is not often discussed. I really appreciate the way you portrayed Regan. She was incredibly supportive, but also struggling and learning—a very honest depiction to which your readers can relate.

Overall, I thought your novel was incredibly well crafted, a very possible story with realistic issues and characters. Your willingness to write about a topic that many consider controversial is commendable. Thank you for creating a story in which even the most silenced voices can be heard. I cannot wait to share this story with my future students.

Sincerely,

Sarah Rose

La Linea by Ann Jaramillo

La Línea is the story of 15-year-old Miguel’s journey from Mexico to the United States. Miguel has been looking forward to crossing the border (la línea) for six years, eleven months and twelve days, since his parents left he and his sister, 13-year-old Elena, with their grandmother in Mexico. The siblings encounter many trials along their journey including train gangs, thieves, life-threatening exhaustion and living in constant fear of la migra. The story is incredible tribute to the power of family, resilience, and the incredible challenge (and importance) of overcoming obstacles.

La Línea is a fascinating, exciting and important text for students and teachers alike. Bringing together issues of belonging and immigration in a fast-paced adventure, Jaramillo has written a great young adult novel. Having little to no experience with immigration, this book was extremely enlightening for me. I am in awe at the lengths people are willing to go to immigrate to America and it made me aware of the things I previously took for granted. I think this is an important lesson for everyone and Jaramillo expresses it in a very well written, engaging story.

A Long Way Gone by Ishmael Beah

Talk about a visceral reaction. This book was incredibly terrifying. But, I’m glad I read it because there is no cure for ignorance besides education. A Long Way Gone is an amazing example of a text that promotes social change in an extremely powerful way. There is no way that a documentary on child soldiers or a newspaper article could have the power this book has. Seeing war through the innocent eyes of a child is the most authentic, honest portrayal of war there is. The most powerful aspect of the text was the changes Ishmael experiences throughout the book. It is awful to watch him be stripped of his innocence one page at a time. At the beginning, we see him responding as a civilian: “I turned away, and my eyes caught the smashed head of another man…I felt nauseated. Everything began to spin around me. One of the soldiers was looking at me, chewing something and smiling. He took a drink…‘You will get used to it, everybody does eventually,’ he said” (100). At that point in the text, I too felt sick to my stomach and I remember thinking “there is no way he will get used to this.”

However, we see the power brainwashing and propaganda can have on someone who has lost all hope. During training, the soldiers are reminded of their loss and coerced into allegiance with the government: “Visualize the enemy, the rebels who killed your parents, your family, and those who are responsible for everything that has happened” (112). Their leaders tell them, “Our job is a serious one and we have the most capable soldiers, who will do anything to defend this country” (123).
It was absolutely horrifying watching Ishmael fall into these (what I thought to be obvious) traps. It makes sense that he had to distance himself from his actions and be almost empty, similar to an abuse victim: “I just sat with my head in my hands, thoughtless” (109).

For a good part of the book, I must admit I was angry with Ishmael. I did not understand how he could transform so quickly from an innocent child into a soulless killer. However, I pushed through and knew deep down that what I really felt was remorse and sadness for his loss of innocence. He was truly a victim. This is absolutely devastating. This particular passage sticks out in my head: “I didn’t feel a thing for him, didn’t think that much about what I was doing. I just waited for the corporal’s order. The prisoner was simply another rebel who was responsible for the death of my family, as I had come to truly believe” (124). In hindsight, Ishmael is realizing that he had created excuses for himself and pointed out his reasoning for completing such terrible acts. The fact that I know he was a victim of a horrible crime does not eliminate the goose bumps from the back of my neck as a re-read this passage.
Horrifying memories reenacted aside, this book was extremely powerful for me. Having little to no knowledge of the situation in Sierra Leone, this book gave me a very personal account of the horrors that occurred there during the civil war.

And last but not least, I was so incredibly grateful for Esther, Ishmael’s nurse. She showed an incredible amount of compassion for Ishmael and was willing to step completely outside of her comfort zone in order to help him. She helped him to begin his lengthy but crucial recovery in a very powerful way. I would highly recommend this book to anyone, young or old, for it teaches an amazing lesson about the resilience of the human spirit. Happy reading!

The Circuit by Francisco Jimenez

--> “As usual, after the strawberry season was over in Santa Maria, Papa decided to move to the San Joaquin Valley in Central California to pick grapes. Like the year before, we had spent the summer months picking strawberries for Ito, the Japanese sharecropper” (96).

Francisco’s family is constantly on the move, looking for work and avoiding the immigration authorities. This memoir, The Circuit, tells the stories of that constant movement, through the childhood eyes of Francisco himself. I really enjoyed this book for many reasons.

First of all, Jimenez does an excellent job of capturing the experiences of his childhood using child-like language and understanding. This is an extremely powerful way to tell a story because it really felt as though young Francisco was speaking with all the innocence of a child. For example, in this story, Francisco and his older brother Roberto are trying to help their parents build a home: “Late one evening, thinking the caretaker had left, Roberto and I sneaked into the dump…we went back several more times until we got enough lumber to complete Mama’s floor. We also found pieces of linoleum and laid them over the wood to cover the holes and slivers. The different shapes and colors made the floor look like a quilt” (30). If Francisco had written this from an adult perspective, it is likely he mayn’t have been so optimistic about scavenging a city dump. However, written in a child’s voice, the unfinished floor becomes a patchwork quilt.

Secondly, the structure of the text works really well with the genre and subject matter. With the text broken up into smaller stories, it is as if the reader is experiencing “episodes” of the author’s life—an extremely accurate representation of how memory works. One of the stories that particularly resonated with me was the story about Francisco’s younger sister spending his penny collection on gumballs: “‘Did you put the pennies in the gum machine at the store?’ [Mama] asked. When my sister nodded again, my heart dropped to my stomach. I felt my face on fire. Everything blurred. I stormed out of the house, slammed the door behind me, sat on the front stairs, and cried” (107). This memory was presented so authentically I could imagine myself there. This was obviously a really horrible experience for Francisco because it is a memory that sticks out above others. I also liked what this story said about ownership: children take pride in their creations and collections just like adults and once that is taken away, they too feel robbed. However, we also see what happens after the pennies are taken and the house burns down—Mama comforts him and he learns a valuable lesson: “Feeling a lump in my throat, I started thinking about Carl, my pennies, the house. Then, for a long time, I thought about my librito and what Mama had said. I could see in my mind every word, every number, every rule, I had written in my note pad. I knew everything in it by heart. Mama was right. It was not all lost” (112).

And last but not least, I learned something—and any book that follows with that statement is one worth reading. I learned an incredible amount about Mexican culture and the spiritual practices that various Mexican families practice. I learned more about La Virgen and La Llorona and about the struggle between western medicine and curanderas. “‘The doctor told us my son would die because we had waited too long to take him there. He said it would take a miracle for him to live. I didn’t want to believe him,’ she continued gaining strength as she talked, ‘but he was right. It took a miracle’” (44).

Most importantly though, I learned more about the incredible strength and resilience it takes to keep a family alive and safe. The constant movement and hard work of this family really made me question by own strength. What if I moved to another country where the only work available was manual labor that was excruciatingly painful and never ending? Would I have the determination to push through it in order to save my family? I would like to think that I would, but Francisco’s story is a tribute to how hard this might actually be.

Review of: Little Brother by Cory Doctorow

Doctorow, Cory. (2008). Little brother. New York: Tom Doherty Associates, LLC. 978-0765319852.

 Marcus Yallow is a high school student senior with an incredible talent for technology. When he and his friends are caught up in the aftermath of a terrorist attack in San Francisco, they are arrested by the Department of Homeland Security and taken in for questioning. Upon release, they discover a police state in place of their city and must use their ingenuity and computer skills to undermine a power hungry government. Written in succinct, yet elegant prose and spoken from the voice of Marcus himself, this story brings to the surface important issues of personal and intellectual freedom, privacy, and power while treating the reader to an important coming-of-age story.

Cory Doctorow’s fast-paced, apropos novel draws in its reader from the very first scene. Marcus Yallow is a 17-year-old computer nerd on a mission. Skipping school one day to attend a gaming session for the brand new Harajuku Fun Madness online game, Marcus and his friends get caught in up in the frenzy of a terrorist attack and are soon captured by suspicious Department of Homeland Security (DHS) officers and taken to a far away prison. Inside, the friends are separated tortured for information. Upon release, Marcus, Jolu (Jose Luis) and Van (Vanessa) return to their families only to discover their former home has been turned into a near-police state in which everything and everyone is under full-time surveillance. Marcus takes on the task of undermining the DHS, freeing his community from the constant invasion of privacy and proving himself innocent through his brilliant computer skills and innovation.

Little Brother is a timely tale that broaches sensitive and controversial topics like freedom, privacy and terrorism while tying in actual government agencies and policies like the DHS, Guantanamo Bay, and The PATRIOT Act. Doctorow has created a frighteningly possible world in which technology rules and the government is omniscient this book will remind readers of the Orwellian world of 1984 (hence the name “little” brother and the protagonist’s avatar, w1n5t0n). With gait-recognition software, untraceable Internet (Xnet) and instant messaging programs (IMParanoid), Doctorow creates an incredibly advanced technological world that only a fantastic science fiction novel could offer. The scene he sets for the reader is wildly imaginative yet at the same time entirely plausible; the perfect setting for a novel that aims to challenge one’s perceptions to the core. Not only does Doctorow take great pains to describe his technology, but his characters as well. Marcus and his friends are likeable, realistic teenagers from incredibly broad backgrounds. They are diverse in culture, race, socio-economic status, gender and intelligence. Doctorow has done a great job of creating a space in which each character is recognized for his or her brilliance in a particular area. This underdog story gives hope and much-needed agency to teenagers from all walks of life. Although much of the book revolves around the tech-savvy teens attempts to rescue their family and friends from the increasing clutches of the government, Doctorow does not fail to include the unbearable, emotional, intense excitement of adolescence.

With incredibly well written prose, intense issues and robust characters, Doctorow has created a novel that will open minds and spark discussions for years to come.

Little Brother was awarded the 2009 White Pine Award, the 2009 Prometheus Award and the 2009 John W. Campbell Award.

Here is a link to the book website, on which you can read interviews with the author, further information on the book and DOWNLOAD THE ENTIRE BOOK FOR FREE!