Val Muller

As the last few weeks of school are winding down, I thought I would review some of the books I teach or have taught. In high school I read (or attempted to read) Thomas Hardy’s Jude the Obscure, and I swore off Thomas Hardy forever. But then life happened, and I found myself teaching Tess of the D’Urbervilles and loving it. So I thought I’d share some of my enthusiasm here. The novel has been dubbed Hardy’s most accessible, and it’s free on Kindle, so feel free to give it a try.

The novel follows a young woman named Tess who tries simultaneously to compensate for her parents’ irresponsibility, forge her own way in life, and fight a series of events that suggests she was born under an unlucky star while all the while living in a society whose rules seem to contradict the natural laws of nature.

First of all, to understand the novel you must understand that it was written during the Victorian Era when society had a hypocritical enthusiasm for ensuring the purity of women while ignoring the purity of men. Hardy was also using the novel to examine his views on formal religion versus general moral beliefs as well as to examine his idea of tragedy, which comes from “the worthy encompassed by the inevitable.” For example, Hardy wrote a poem about the Titanic in which Fate prepares a “sinister mate” for the Titanic in the form of an iceberg.

The second thing to understand is that because he was writing during Victorian times, he had to confine his writing to certain (prudish) standards. For example, in the original text, there is a scene in which a man carries four dairymaids across a flooded river. This was a bit too scandalous for certain publications, and for one of his editions, Hardy was forced to rewrite the scene so that the man used a wheelbarrow to ferry the maidens across (rather than the scandalous act of actually touching four separate unmarried women!). As a result, Hardy’s language is often metaphorical, sometimes in intriguing ways.

For example, there is a scene written about a strawberry. And yes, it’s just about a strawberry. But the undercurrent of the scene could make even a modern-day reader uncomfortable. The scene establishes the alluring yet pushy nature of Alec and foreshadows the rape scene, which causes Tess’s life to spiral down in tragedy. The scene is from Chapter Five:

Tess wished to abridge her visit as much as possible; but the young man was pressing, and she consented to accompany him.  He conducted her about the lawns, and flower-beds, and conservatories; and thence to the fruit-garden and greenhouses, where he asked her if she liked strawberries.

“Yes,” said Tess, “when they come.”

“They are already here.”  D’Urberville began gathering specimens of the fruit for her, handing them back to her as he stooped; and, presently, selecting a specially fine product of the “British Queen” variety, he stood up and held it by the stem to her mouth.

“No–no!” she said quickly, putting her fingers between his hand and her lips.  “I would rather take it in my own hand.”

“Nonsense!” he insisted; and in a slight distress she parted her lips and took it in.

They had spent some time wandering desultorily thus, Tess eating in a half-pleased, half-reluctant state whatever d’Urberville offered her.  When she could consume no more of the strawberries he filled her little basket with them; and then the two passed round to the rose-trees, whence he gathered blossoms and gave her to put in her bosom. She obeyed like one in a dream, and when she could affix no more he himself tucked a bud or two into her hat, and heaped her basket with others in the prodigality of his bounty.

What I love about the novel is Hardy’s elegant prose. His word choice is elegant yet not over-the-top, and reading his work will definitely help with SAT scores! Hardy’s sophisticated vocabulary means he can choose the exactly appropriate word for each situation. His imagery is often symbolic or suggestive, and his use of point-of-view allows him to include humor in the overall tragic work. For example, Tess’s parents are portrayed as often-drunk, childish, country bumpkins (of the Victorian British variety), allowing comic relief to break up Tess’s misery.

My favorite point-of-view shift comes toward the end of the novel in which Hardy describes a murder scene. Instead of bringing us intimately into the murder chamber itself, he shifts into the point-of-view of a woman watching a red spot on the ceiling above her become increasingly larger. It isn’t until the woman more closely examines the spot that the reader realizes the spot is blood, and a murder has taken place in the room upstairs.

I won’t go into depth in the plot here—you can go to any number of sites for a summary—but I will recommend the book for its prose, its criticism of Hardy’s society (the questions he asks are still relevant today—is there a double-standard in the way we view men and woman? –is someone with moral beliefs just as admirable as someone who follows the rules of a given religion?), and its foray into the idea of a more modern tragedy than the Oedipus of old.

Shattering Glass is a YA book following the transformation of Simon Glass, an unpopular, fat, clumsy student. When a new kid named Rob comes to the school, he decides to make it his big project to turn Glass into someone popular. Rob’s plan works more than well, and soon Glass displays an independent (and dark) streak that wasn’t part of Rob’s plan. I won’t give away the ending, but it gets dark in a creepy way!

My overall assessment: A great book for high school students and reluctant readers, especially teenage boys.

Negatives first: This is a YA book, so it didn’t have all the twists and turns and nuances of a fully-developed adult novel. It took me a while to “get” the main character. At first the protagonist’s voice sounded generic (I didn’t realize right away that the protag was a boy!) It wasn’t until I learned a detail about his past that his voice really started standing out. Then, he became real to me. Still, I teach high school, and I could see lots of my students enjoying this book. The plot was not cliche (oh, definitely not!), but it was easy enough to follow.

Now, the positives: It was a compelling read. What I enjoyed most the structure of the novel. Each chapter begins with a quote from various minor characters in the novel. These quotes allude to the novel’s ending, so at first they don’t make a lot of sense except to add some creepy foreshadowing. As the chapters progress, the reader puts together clues from these opening quotes to infer how the novel will end–and it’s a grim ending. Because of this extensive foreshadowing, the novel takes on a dark aura, and the reader is compelled to turn the pages. The chapters are short, and each opening quote gives readers just enough clues to convince them to keep reading. I finished the book in two sittings. I will definitely recommend the book to my high school students.

From a writer’s point of view, the book is a great lesson in pacing and point of view. Giles did a great job in choosing which details to include and when to include them. The result is a dark, suspenseful page-turner. If you want insight into the darker side of high school, this book is worth your time.

The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate

The story is told through the eyes of a silverback gorilla named Ivan who lives in a run-down “domain” as part of an exhibit at The Exit 8 Big Top Mall and Video Arcade with a handful of other neglected animals. Ivan tries to dwell on the positive element of his life, taking an especial interest in artwork. His “drawings” are sold to tourists but don’t raise enough money for the manager to give the animals proper living conditions. As the story progresses, Ivan makes a promise to a dying elephant to save the attraction’s newest resident from spending a miserable life there, and it’s up to Ivan to figure out how to use his artwork to this end.

The book is targeted toward ages 8 – 12. The language is highly-accessible—I read it within a day. (Ivan notes that gorillas, unlike humans, are efficient in their communications). Because of the nature of the first-person point of view, the true plot of the story doesn’t emerge until about halfway through, though there is plenty of foreshadowing as elements of the main conflict merge through Ivan’s musings and recollections in sometimes startling and frightening ways. His musings are sometimes humorous. For example, he notes, “I draw the things in my cage, simple items that fill my days: an apple core, a banana peel, a candy wrapper. (I often eat my subjects before I draw them.)” Sometimes, his musings are jarring, such as his recollection of the violent murder of his parents. Sometimes, his musings are inspiring. As an aspiring artist bound by a gorilla’s mind, he has trouble creating artwork that is abstract—he cannot envision what is not directly in front of him.

The author was inspired to write the tale after reading about a gorilla named Ivan, who lived for 27 years in a tiny cage in a local shopping mall. After public outcry, the real Ivan was moved to an actual zoo, where he became somewhat of a celebrity.

At times, Ivan’s voice is chilling. Just as Ivan is physically trapped in a cage, there is a deeper part of Ivan trapped within the mind of a gorilla—something human, an artist that wants to envision potential beyond reality—but struggle within the limits of a simian brain.

As with any narrative, the first-person point of view presents both benefits and liabilities. Because of the gorilla’s limited perspective, there are no extensive descriptive passages; but his point of view is also what gives the book its charm. For writers, it’s a quick read, and I would recommend it as a study in point of view. For kids, I would recommend it for animal lovers, artists, dreamers, and anyone who believes in the possibility of pushing oneself to help build a better world.

I just finished the book The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate.

A coworker loaned me this book because of its use of first-person point of view from an animal’s perspective. She thought it might be an interesting contrast to my third-person limited use of animal point of view in Corgi Capers. I enjoyed the story and thought I’d thought I’d use it to kick off my goal of reviewing one book per week. This is a lofty goal, and I’m not sure I can continue it when school starts again in August, but until then I’ll post a review every Monday. For now I have a huge stack of “to be read” books (as well as a virtual stack on my Kindle); however, if you are interested in having me review your book, please contact me via email.