Patrick Ness's A Monster Calls

A Monster Calls is a story about a boy named Conor who is losing his mother to cancer. He has been tormented for months by a nightmare (the story of which is not revealed until close to the end of the novel) and is visited by a "monster" transformed from the yew tree near his house that his mother has been staring at so often these days. The monster will serve an important purpose in Conor's life, though he doesn't know it yet.

I loved this book. I absolutely loved it. It so beautifully speaks about the nature of grief: when it appears (not necessarily after the loved one dies), what it can do to the mind of the bereaved, what it feels like in the body.  Having lost a few family members to cancer myself, I could relate with the way Ness writes Conor. He feels angry. He feels helpless. Because it has come from a "healing tree," when the monster appears he hopes that it is here to heal his mother. I remember searching for some unknown, alternative, or magical cure when I was 13 and losing my Grammy to pancreatic cancer. When her conditioned worsened, I saw it as partly my fault. And I remember the extreme sadness in seeing her close to her final days, when I didn't recognize her... when she even frightened me a little. But worst of all was watching Grampy's reaction. I overheard him, sobbing, asking my aunt, "What am I going to do?" 

Conor was the one who needed healing from the monster. When a loved one is sick or dying, those who are well need care too.

Close to the end of the novel, the author examines the act of letting a loved one go. This is difficult
for the dying as well as the one watching her die. When my aunt Suey was dying of breast cancer a couple of years ago, my mom (Suey's older sister) stayed with her almost constantly in her final days. Although we all felt that the time was nearing, Suey couldn't let go with my mom holding her so tightly. Finally my mom met up with what she already knew: that now was the time. She called me at work and drove to pick me up so that I could be there. Suey passed before we arrived. It was as if by telling someone else that it was time, she had given Suey permission to go. This is something that Conor goes through, helped by the monster. It says, "Of course you are afraid, ... and yet you will still do it" (220).

Something I questioned in this book was the way that teachers treated Conor. A few told him that they were available if he needed to talk, but he was unwilling to even acknowledge his situation. He hated the fact that other people knew and that it isolated him. Ness writes, "Conor hadn't heard a word of his lessons in school, but the teachers hadn't told him off for his inattentivness, skipping over him when they asked questions to the class. Mrs Marl didn't even make him hand in his life writing homework, even though it was due that day" (132). I agree that teachers should make exceptions for a student going through the loss of a family member, but I wonder how far those exceptions should extend... and what else we could do? Sometimes having a task to complete is helpful when you are "waiting" as Conor puts it. Not everyone will be lucky enough to be visited by a healing tree who has come walking just for them. Would it be helpful to give a student like Conor this book to read?  At what point would that student be able to read a story about losing a loved one without it being too painful?

One thing that Conor was told to do by a teacher was write. He chose not to and she didn't push him. The monster tells Conor over and over about the power of stories, and it's only the monster who gets him to tell his painful truth. But I do believe that writing - even just putting a pen to paper and writing without thinking about what's coming out - when you are going through a difficult time is extremely helpful. I wonder what that teacher could have done to help Conor realize that. In a non-magical-realistic novel, the teacher could have done much of what the monster did for him.

But I do think the magical realism works perfectly in this book. I love magical realism and I especially love its use here in creating a sort of guide for Conor and a second monstrous representation of his mother's illness; the two monsters together portray Conor's complex feelings and show the reader how big these feelings can be.

Here is the (official?) book trailer that features the novel's fantastic illustrations

Suzanne Collins's Mockingjay

Mockingjay (2010), the final book of the Hunger Games series by Suzanne Collins, takes Katniss to the fabled district 13 to join the rebels in an attack against the Capitol. After some persuasion, she acts for them as "the Mockingjay," the spark and living symbol of the rebellion. She nurses physical, emotional, and psychological injuries in this book, but in a way, displays more strength than ever before.

In the previous two books, I was constantly disappointed in how passive the main character is. Not until the end of book II does she realize that in her fighting, she has not yet targeted the real enemy, but instead has done its bidding. Even her so-called "stunt" with the poisonous berries, which the people of Panem (and to a certain extent, President Snow) saw as an act of rebellion was merely an almost thoughtless reaction to emotion. She realized that the only way she or Peeta would not have to kill the other was for both of them to decide to die. Her hope that the Gamemakers would prevent this in favor of having at least one victor did not include a hope to deny their rules. She just didn't want to lose "the boy with the bread." Her decision to volunteer in the place of her younger sister came about in the same way. She illegally enters the woods to hunt only out of a need for survival. She does not entertain thoughts about her feelings for Gale or Peeta because her relationships with both of them are born out of chance. When deciding to kiss either of them, she does it mostly to either create a spectacle for the cameras, to comfort them, convince them of something, or because she thinks it's something they want. She evades questions about her true feelings from either of them and maintains a seemingly romantic relationship with Peeta only to preserve their lives in the arena.  Regardless of the fact that the people of Panem have raised her up as a hero, she hasn't thought much about the world or her own place in it. This might be realistic for a young teen - especially one who has spent her life under the weight of tragedy and the threat of death - but I was annoyed by her constant passivity nonetheless.

So in Mockingjay, when Plutarch comes up to her with something they'd like her to do for the camera
and she "[walks] away from the conversation right then. That is not going to happen," I got a little excited; although this is still more of an evasion than a direct action, it is when she first begins to make decisions for herself (247). She starts to rely less and less on the direction of her mother, Gale, Haymitch, or any other person she might normally have listened to. This change in her thinking leads her finally to reach a secret (or so she believes) decision to disregard orders in the Capitol and go after President Snow herself.

There are a couple of other aspects of the book that would be excellent to discuss and analyze in a class.

Who is the enemy?
Collins makes this an essential question for Katniss in this book. Students can follow her constantly changing ideas of who to trust and analyze her reasoning for suddenly feeling less trusting of even those who have been closest to her (Gale, Haymitch). An excellent scene to start this discussion would when Katniss examines the broadcast in which Peeta asks her, "do you really trust the people you're working with? Do you really know what's going on? And if you don't... find out" (116). They can also discuss why Katniss shoots President Coin - the leader of the rebels - instead of President Snow at his execution. There could be a very rich written or discussed comparison of the two leaders.  Ultimately, I think Collins wishes to make the point that those who seek extreme levels of power and develop a disregard for human life grow closer and closer to evil.


Pace and Writing Style
Why does Mockingjay move so much more quickly than The Hunger Games  or Catching Fire? Students can analyze the differences in pacing between similar events and teachers could lead them to the discovery - perhaps with use of the film version(s) of the book(s) - that Mockingjay more closely resembles the pacing of a movie. Students could learn about the ability their generations have mastered to swiftly interpret and stitch together the complex visual cues seen in film, TV, ads, and other motion graphics. They could then answer the questions, "does this work in a novel?" and "why or why not?" They could also, from a creative writing standpoint, discuss the necessity or non-necessity of the author's tendency to use the first couple of chapters to summarize the events of the previous books, talk about missed opportunities in this book, find places where they would have changed things about the writing, and compare the strength of the story in this novel to the first two books.

Games
Katniss has had two terms in the Hunger Games arena. While she is no longer forced to play in this game, she regularly compares her new life to the arena. Students can examine how the theme of "game playing" interlaces the novel. Is she still forced to see everyone around her as a possible attacker? How do her experiences with politics compare to her experiences in the arena? What kinds of "moves" does she make with the knowledge of who is watching her in mind? Does she have any new weapons (besides her bow)?

What other opportunities for analysis have you found?

Obviously, these books are exciting and easy reads. Teens eat them up! I was surprised not only at how much I enjoyed them, but at how much there is to actually keep track of and analyze in the series. It has just as much content worthy of literary discussion as some of the classics I read in high school. I think the books would be suitable for ages 12-17. However, it may be difficult to introduce these in a classroom because most kids will have already read them.

Julie Anne Peters's Luna (2004)

Luna tells the story of a high school transgender student through the eyes of zhis sister Reagan. Liam by day, Luna by night, her brother struggles to reconcile self-identity with imposed identity in an environment unfriendly toward non-traditional and non-binary gender. Reagan (at first reluctantly - her actions come from a desire to protect her formerly suicidal brother) supports Liam/Luna as he decides to transition from male to female and slowly "comes out."

I am so happy that this book exists. It is a truly beautiful portrayal of transgenderism that young adults can relate to. Because the story is told through a character once removed from the issue, the reader can experience initial negative feelings through her and then live through her analysis and dismissal of those feelings. When Luna tells Reagan about her desire to transition, it takes Reagan a minute to realize that this will result in sexual reassignment surgery (SRS). Peters describes her reaction by writing, "A wave of nausea washed over me... Don't desert him, my brain screamed. Don't do this. Don't let him down. Don't let him know" (134). While she is comfortable at this point in referring to her brother as a sister, it does take some time for her to acclimate to the eventuality of this surgery. Young readers who are also unfamiliar with transgender issues will be eased into acceptance as Reagan is. Ultimately, Reagan's feelings are "Yeah, I loved her. I couldn't help it. She was my brother" (4).

A few things disappointed me about this book. First, there is little exploration/explanation of gender neutral pronouns, such as zhe and hir. Even in writing this reflection I have found myself tripping over how to refer to Luna/Liam's gender. I expected that Reagan and Liam would have encountered the same problem. I found some alternative pronouns to use (have you noticed them?), but I am still curious about the real-life applications of these words. Are they embraced by transgenders? Or not? There was an opportunity to address the reasons for using gender-neutral pronouns and the options available when Luna finds a mentor online. Teri-Lynn is older and has already undergone a complete (including SRS) transition from male to female. She illuminates many aspects of transition for Luna. I was hoping the novel would reveal some ways to sidestep the limitations of the English language and improve comfort levels when addressing or speaking about a person of transgender, but the issue is mostly ignored. While Reagan, in her internal dialogue, seems to struggle with what to call her brother/sister, it is left as a binary series of alternating pronouns.

Musings on Gender - Juliet Darken (Our Lives Magazine Jan/Feb 2011)

Speaking of binary, Luna does not take the opportunity to address the societally established norm of binary gender. I illustrated an article in the January/February 2011 issues of Our Lives Magazine titled "Musings on Gender" that spoke very movingly about the anonymous author's struggle to feel that - though she is biologically female - she fit into one gender category or another. Every day she leaned more and more toward transitioning, but she lamented the fact that our society cannot accept a person like the Native American "two spirit" people who feel neither male nor female, but somewhere in the middle. The author of the article had turned to alcohol to deal with the depression that came with these thoughts. She reported that since becoming sober she "thought of suicide more than often." Peters does mention the Native American two spirit philosophy, but does not use her characters to expound on this concept; rather than expressing gender as a range or continuum, she sustains the binary nature of gender by suggesting that Liam/Luna must be one or the other. Although I believe that this is the case for some transgender teens and adults, most people who examine this issue are coming to accept the fact that gender, like sexuality, can be fluid. It would have been nice for Luna to have met another role model (in addition to Teri-Lynn) who had not transitioned via sexual reassignment surgery and could show hir another possible way of being. Possibly a way of being happy.

Finally, Luna does not fully express the dangers that transgender people face. Peters acknowledges the possibility of self-inflicted harm and suicide, but leaves harm inflicted by others at what could be described as "mild" bullying. The type of verbal abuse and harassment Luna faces in the novel would cause significant psychological harm. However, I wonder why Peters has not brought up any of the more serious hate crimes - including murder - committed against transgenders. Perhaps it is unfair to expect so much of her - she has opened the door to this topic, but one story cannot bring every aspect of it to life without sounding like an instructional text.

Though the novel has some limitations, I think it will be a valuable edition to the classroom with some supplemental non-fiction reading on the topic (in the form of journal articles, books or videos). Some might say that the subject matter would place it in a high school age range, but I think the writing style makes it accessible to students as young as thirteen. Teachers should assess the maturity levels of students before discussing this book in class, but I feel it is important to expose young students to a transgender character they can attempt to empathize with. The sooner they become comfortable with these kinds of differences, the better able they will be to act as LGBT allies, stop or prevent bullying toward members of any minority, and become advocates for social justice.

"Annual March for Transgender Victims Follows Another Death" HuffPost Los Angeles 11/20/2011