Buena High School Library Staff Recommendations
Mr. Levin's Book Recommendation for January:
It by Stephen King
First things first: yes, It is a book about a killer clown. Kind of.
Though Stephen King gets pigeonholed as a two-dimensional horror novelist, he's actually a sophisticated, multifaceted author with an uncanny ability to invoke the complexities of childhood innocence and trauma. He is, after all, the same man who wrote the stories that became Stand By Me and The Shawshank Redemption.
That being said, I was pleasantly surprised by the depth and complexity of It. The novel isn't just 1,153 pages of Pennywise the Dancing Clown terrorizing the town of Derry, Maine; rather, it's an examination of isolation, loneliness, bullying, racism, domestic violence, sexual abuse, antisemitism, and a multitude of other important themes. The members of the self-identified "Losers Club" each face a personal roadblock that would warrant its own YA novel; the fact that Stephen King ambitiously tackles so much (under the guise of a "horror novel," no less) is a testament to his considerable talents. However, since his reputation for creepy plots tends to overshadow his sophistication and eloquence, it would be easy for casual passersby to dismiss King as a hack pulp novelist. It, however, is a near-masterpiece that capably conjures the terrors and exultations of childhood - and, as such, deserves a place alongside other bildungsroman classics.
FULL DISCLOSURE - I have to admit, I purchased It to get more bang for my buck: I needed a new eBook to read on my iPad and it simply made sense to buy a 1,000+ page novel for $11.99 instead of a novella for the same price. That being said, it took me more than a year to get through the whole thing. I started, stopped, started, stopped, and restarted reading... occasionally losing hope that I would make it through the endless underground sewers of King's novel. Like the members of the Losers Club, however, I'm glad that I was able to overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle and make it out alive.
In the end, It isn't so much a novel about the terrors of death as it is about the magic of life. As King writes near the novel's conclusion, "But it's nice to think... that childhood has its own sweet secrets and confirms mortality, and that mortality defines all courage and love. To think that what has looked forward must also look back, and that each life makes its own imitation of mortality: a wheel."
It by Stephen King
First things first: yes, It is a book about a killer clown. Kind of.
Though Stephen King gets pigeonholed as a two-dimensional horror novelist, he's actually a sophisticated, multifaceted author with an uncanny ability to invoke the complexities of childhood innocence and trauma. He is, after all, the same man who wrote the stories that became Stand By Me and The Shawshank Redemption.
That being said, I was pleasantly surprised by the depth and complexity of It. The novel isn't just 1,153 pages of Pennywise the Dancing Clown terrorizing the town of Derry, Maine; rather, it's an examination of isolation, loneliness, bullying, racism, domestic violence, sexual abuse, antisemitism, and a multitude of other important themes. The members of the self-identified "Losers Club" each face a personal roadblock that would warrant its own YA novel; the fact that Stephen King ambitiously tackles so much (under the guise of a "horror novel," no less) is a testament to his considerable talents. However, since his reputation for creepy plots tends to overshadow his sophistication and eloquence, it would be easy for casual passersby to dismiss King as a hack pulp novelist. It, however, is a near-masterpiece that capably conjures the terrors and exultations of childhood - and, as such, deserves a place alongside other bildungsroman classics.
FULL DISCLOSURE - I have to admit, I purchased It to get more bang for my buck: I needed a new eBook to read on my iPad and it simply made sense to buy a 1,000+ page novel for $11.99 instead of a novella for the same price. That being said, it took me more than a year to get through the whole thing. I started, stopped, started, stopped, and restarted reading... occasionally losing hope that I would make it through the endless underground sewers of King's novel. Like the members of the Losers Club, however, I'm glad that I was able to overcome a seemingly insurmountable obstacle and make it out alive.
In the end, It isn't so much a novel about the terrors of death as it is about the magic of life. As King writes near the novel's conclusion, "But it's nice to think... that childhood has its own sweet secrets and confirms mortality, and that mortality defines all courage and love. To think that what has looked forward must also look back, and that each life makes its own imitation of mortality: a wheel."
Mr. Levin's Book Recommendation for February:
Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler
Daniel Handler's Why We Broke Up is based on a novel concept: what if that box of random items you collected whilst dating that ex-boyfriend/girlfriend could be used as the hub of a breakup narrative - with each of the items serving as an axle or a spoke in the wheel of the story?
While the potentially kitschy gimmick of such a narrative could very easily turn melodramatic or pretentious, in Daniel Handler's capable hands it transcends the novelty of the premise. Reminiscent of Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why, the novel follows protagonist Minerva ("Min") Green, a teenage cinephile obsessed with classic films, as she falls in love with high school jock Ed Slaterton. While we know the couple's days are numbered (hence the title), we're drawn into a whirlwind romance that (temporarily) transcends traditional high school boundaries and forces us to examine our own preconceived notions of identity. While not flawlessly executed, the book does present a fascinating examination of how an individual changes and evolves over the course of a relationship.
Much of the novel's effectiveness stems from Handler's unique narrative voice channeled through Min: our protagonist is a precocious young woman who almost falls into the "manic pixie dream girl trope" (a la Cameron Crowe or John Green), but whose complex emotions supersede that simplistic description. Min is not so much Zooey Deschanel or Kirsten Dunst as she is Rachel Bloom; while she's clearly an "adorkable" character, she is much more self-aware and complex than other characters in the simplistic MPDG vein.
That being said, Why We Broke Up is an engaging, humorous look at growing up, even as it teeters between comical and heartbreaking. It won't change your life, but it might make you nostalgic for those tortured, angst-ridden days of high school romance.
Why We Broke Up by Daniel Handler
Daniel Handler's Why We Broke Up is based on a novel concept: what if that box of random items you collected whilst dating that ex-boyfriend/girlfriend could be used as the hub of a breakup narrative - with each of the items serving as an axle or a spoke in the wheel of the story?
While the potentially kitschy gimmick of such a narrative could very easily turn melodramatic or pretentious, in Daniel Handler's capable hands it transcends the novelty of the premise. Reminiscent of Jay Asher's Thirteen Reasons Why, the novel follows protagonist Minerva ("Min") Green, a teenage cinephile obsessed with classic films, as she falls in love with high school jock Ed Slaterton. While we know the couple's days are numbered (hence the title), we're drawn into a whirlwind romance that (temporarily) transcends traditional high school boundaries and forces us to examine our own preconceived notions of identity. While not flawlessly executed, the book does present a fascinating examination of how an individual changes and evolves over the course of a relationship.
Much of the novel's effectiveness stems from Handler's unique narrative voice channeled through Min: our protagonist is a precocious young woman who almost falls into the "manic pixie dream girl trope" (a la Cameron Crowe or John Green), but whose complex emotions supersede that simplistic description. Min is not so much Zooey Deschanel or Kirsten Dunst as she is Rachel Bloom; while she's clearly an "adorkable" character, she is much more self-aware and complex than other characters in the simplistic MPDG vein.
That being said, Why We Broke Up is an engaging, humorous look at growing up, even as it teeters between comical and heartbreaking. It won't change your life, but it might make you nostalgic for those tortured, angst-ridden days of high school romance.
