Chasing Ray

Because it made me laugh a lot

Fri, 10 Oct 2008 00:39:19 -0800

Tomorrow is my boy's birthday party and the frenzied chaos of "IT'S ALMOST HERE!!!" has commenced. (It should be noted that his actual birthday is not until next week so I'm sure there will be more chaos to follow after the party.) Literary posts to follow but this made me laugh too much to ignore. David Rees is the bomb and I will be reviewing his collection soon.

(I had to shrink it to fit - it's much clearer at his site.)

How my day started.......

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 05:43:35 -0800

Thanks Bruce.

Rural vs Bush Alaska

Thu, 09 Oct 2008 03:38:54 -0800

Lately there has been an enormous amount of absolute crap written about Alaska. Beyond the obvious (We are the first line of defense against Putin!), there have also been all the stories running around about Alaskans getting monthly checks from the state, Alaska having enough oil to keep the country driving forever, everyone hunts everything there, everyone walks around draped in fur and we all hate polar bears.

And those are just the ones I could think of off the top of my head.

The truth, as I'm sure everyone suspects, is much more complicated. Fortunately I had two books on Alaska sitting on my shelf when Sarah Palin was added to the RNC ticket so while the madness swirled around me I was able to read the work of authors who had a clue about the state. More importantly, they wrote about life in rural Alaska - otherwise known as the bush - and showed how different that life is from urban AK. A lot of people see bush AK as something exotic but in many ways it is like life in any rural or remote area in the US, which these days means struggling against a multitude of economic issues. One interesting thing of course is the wilderness nature of much of AK which both the books I read and reviewed this month focused on a lot.

Seth Kantner lives in NW AK and his essay collection, Shopping for Porcupine, is a gorgeously illustrated (with mostly his own photographs) look at what it was like to be born and raised in the bush. I met Seth a couple of years ago when his first book, a novel based on his childhood, was published. He's done a really good job in Porcupine of showing what it is like to live a rural way of life and what is good and bad about it. Here's a bit of my review:

Kantner’s family lived a subsistence lifestyle and he writes about how subsistence has become a flashpoint for the state’s politics and a source of division between urban and rural populations. As eloquent as he is when writing about wolves, moose and caribou, his questions about hunting and subsistence carry a valuable weight to those seeking to understand the “real” Alaskan way of life. Although he uses a camera more often than rifle now, the author clearly still has a great deal of respect for a lifestyle that incorporates “wild food from the land.” But he is not so certain that claims for subsistence hunting privileges are fair when balanced against reliance on “Hondas and Arctic Cats and airplanes” and when enjoyed by those who “eat chicken more often than muskrat.” The definition of life in the Bush has changed radically in the days since he was born and while tradition demands one thing, modern living tends to veer in another direction. Kantner is as conflicted as anyone else on this subject but he bravely asks the questions and voices the concerns that usually go unheard. When you couple this with his observations about the changing climate in his “backyard,” the book becomes a powerful exploration of our rapidly evolving world and a primer for understanding the dichotomy between the two strongest versions of Alaskan life.

Shopping for Porcupine is truly a beautiful book and I highly recommend it.

I also reviewed Karsten Heuer's Being Caribou which is a nature title like few others. Karsten and his wife Leanne decided to follow the Porcupine caribou herd on their annual migration from Canada to the calving grounds in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge. The herd treads on very political ground as ANWR is a flashpoint in the argument for drilling. Gov. Palin wants very much to drill there but Congress has consistently (albeit barely) voted against opening the refuge, largely because of the herd. Heuer, a wildlife biologist, wanted to see just how much the caribou relied on their migration and how significant ANWR is to the herd. It was a brutal journey (they also made a documentary) and very much worthy of the cover blurb from Farley Mowat. But in visiting the village of Kaktovik (physically in ANWR and pro-drilling), Heuer was able to get a firsthand look at the complexity of the drilling fight:

In need of a few days break from the hike, Heuer and Allison fly out of the Bush and stay in the small settlement on the Beaufort Sea (current population approx. 300). It is here that the many complicating issues surrounding the decision to drill or not drill come into focus. Officially, Kaktovik, which lies within ANWR, supports drilling. There are those who point to the experiences of the village of Nuiqsut, a coastal village near Prudhoe Bay, as a cautionary tale however and worry about might happen if the rigs arrive. Heuer mainly serves the role of curious visitor in these conversations, carefully navigating the territory between topics of potential economic advancement and collapsing boomtown. Back in the wilderness he and Allison must then measure the significance of the herd against the hard truths in Kaktovik’s struggles. Biologists are not certain just how oil drilling would affect the Porcupine herd (and the many animals who live off of it) and there is also the cultural consequence on the region’s Gwichin people, whose close ties to this herd in particular have led to their strong opposition to the drilling.

The Gwichin are Alaskan Natives who live primarily in the villages of Ft Yukon and Arctic Village and as much as the folks in Kaktovik want to drill, they do not. These are people who have long cultural and traditional ties to the herd so the drilling issue is personal to them. Really, it's just a complicated issue but what I liked about Being Caribou was the Heuer shows that you can't just fly over the region and think you know everything about the migration and both authors express you can't just read a few articles or watch some lame reality shows and think they tell you everything about life in the 49th state. You have to be there - actually on the ground in AK - if you want to understand it. How much time Sarah Palin has spent in the bush (and I mean in the bush - not flying over it or snowmachining through it) and looking into drilling and the caribou, I don't know. But really it doesn't matter - her opinion is only one and governor or not, there are a lot more opinions that need to be considered before a final decision can be met.

That's why we call it democracy folks - and its one of the truly great things about living in America. (And if you have ideas about democracy be sure to get a post ready for Blog the Vote on Monday, November 3rd.)

[Post pic from AK Fish & Wildlife of caribou in ANWR]

October Country 2008

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 23:48:42 -0800

If ever there was an author suited for a certain time of year, it is Cherie Priest and the month of October. Through her evocative southern Eden Moore trilogy to the 19th century frontier werewolf drama Dreadful Skin, Priest knows how to write a fear-filled story that never makes the reader feel like a fool. She is not an author that disappoints, in narrative or character, and she does horror like few others.

Her latest novella, Those Who Went Remain There Still is a perfect example of Priest’s strengths. Following two converging plots, it is grounded in the actual events surrounding Daniel Boone’s mission to clear a path through the Cumberland Gap in 1775. To that piece of actual American history, Priest has blended an old story handed down in her family, a story of dark suggestion and otherworldly activities. Together these narratives form a cohesive fictitious tale about what Boone and his men encountered, something that nearly killed them. That mysterious monster reappears in 1899 when it falls to five descendants of Heaster Wharton to go into a Kentucky cave on a mad search for their patriarch’s last will and testament. That cave was known to Boone and his men and it was known to the thing they defeated.

The story would not work on anything other than a superficial level if it was isolated around the Boone story but Priest goes far beyond that by adding her own dose of terror to history. Her development of Wharton’s descendants and their ongoing family feud pulls the reader in immediately and makes the attempts to break free of family chaos by some of the members, each of whom gets sucked into Wharton’s caving assignment, very compelling. You want to know what happens to these guys when they go into the dark and most especially, you want to know why Meshack Coy’s sister went missing one night in the past and if it was the cave she disappeared into.

With Those Who Went Remain There Still Cherie Priest continues her exploration of place and America's ghostly history. Her stories and novels are exquisite in the way they tap into our national consciousness. For older teens and adults Priest is not to be missed and this is certainly one of her best pieces of work to date. (And if you want the story behind the story, the limited edition includes a chapbook by Priest explaining how her family history entwines with Boone.)

Lewis Buzbee also includes a famous American in his new mystery/ghost story Steinbeck’s Ghost. This is a very original novel, one that is hard to pin down for readers who might be looking for a basic description. Buzbee has taken the very real events surrounding the 2004 proposed closing of the John Steinbeck Library in Salinas, CA, and turned it into a novel about why books matter, especially John Steinbeck in particular, why living an original life that doesn’t blindly follow the herd is something to strive for and also -- and most deliciously -- why dead authors sometimes haunt their former surroundings in an effort to give one final message to readers.

As the book opens, teenage Travis is stuck in the gated community from hell. His new home is a suburban version of Madeleine L’Engle’s Stepfordesque Camazotz from A Wrinkle in Time. The problem though is not so much that everyone stays locked up in their houses behind their perfect manicured lawns with their scarily similar facades, but that his parents are working themselves to death to keep this slice of the American dream -- which means no one can enjoy it, let alone time with each other. Buzbee makes clear that he isn’t messing around here; he lays bare the truth behind the “no one plays in the street, or paints their house purple or works on a car in the driveway” suburban insanity that Americans have willfully trapped themselves in and through Travis shows how shallow this way of life can be. Driven to find something real, something that matters, Travis goes biking one afternoon back to his old neighborhood library which he soon discovers is in danger of disappearing.

While joining the community effort to save the Salinas library, Travis also reconnects with Steinbeck’s writing and that is when things take a decidedly otherworldly turn. He sees the ghost of the author on several occasions and begins also to run into characters from his books. From the wild spaces of the California scrubland to the waterfront location of Cannery Row, Travis finds Steinbeck at every turn. It is clear the author wants him to know something, to uncover a truth that he was unable to tell while alive, but Travis can’t help but think that maybe he’s going a little crazy. He blunders along with the help of a somewhat curmudgeonly writer who wrote about Steinbeck in the past and the two of them make some startling discoveries. It’s not scary but it is increasingly mysterious, which is perhaps what makes the ghostly portions of the plot so powerful.

Buzbee has done a wonderful job of balancing all the aspects of Steinbeck’s Ghost and keeping the reader equally concerned about Travis’ family, the library and Steinbeck’s secret. This is one of the most carefully crafted YA novels I’ve read in quite some time; it’s beautifully done and packs a wonderful literary mystery in the midst of quite a bit of bookish talk, buddy moments and X-Files type encounters. Perhaps my highest praise is to admit that after a dreadful encounter with Steinbeck back in high school, Buzbee has made me long to read several of his classic titles I long ago decided to skip. There’s much to admire in this novel; it is a winner for anyone interested in a very smart and subtle literary ghost story.

I think everyone can agree that Neil Gaiman is a master when it comes to fantasy and his latest YA title, The Graveyard Book only affirms his reputation. As compelling as the fantasy elements are (due to its primary setting, ghosts abound), it is the all too prosaic murder mystery that truly compels. “Bod” is a toddler who wanders into a graveyard the night his family is murdered by an unknown assailant. Why someone would want to kill this baby is the narrative thread that links the stories about his life. Although there is no traditional plot structure the tension still slowly builds as Bod takes steps away from the safety of the dead and reaches out to the world of the living; the world he longs for but is still too dangerous.

As the toddler Bod settles into graveyard life he is taken care of by a married couple who “adopt” him, the Owens, and watched over by Silas, a mysterious figure who dwells somewhere between the living and dead worlds, having a place in each (much like Bod). Each chapter shows the boy growing older and interacting with the many ghosts who surround him and learning their history. Some of them he becomes quite close to while others appear briefly as teachers or associates who answer his questions and provide occasional guidance. Everyone in the graveyard loves Bod to one degree or another and all of them take seriously the responsibility of keeping him safe. There is plenty of room for drama however when he leaves to attend school, find a gift for a friend or when he meets a living girl on the cemetery grounds. But each exposure to the world of the living brings Bod closer to danger as his killer closes in. Who that man is and how Bod will ultimately evade is the source of the book’s ever-increasing tension.

One of the aspects of The Graveyard Book I really enjoyed was the normalcy of life in the cemetery. Gaiman goes out of his way to make the ghosts believable and normal in all of their quirky and individual ways. There are no saints or demons here, merely a lot of people formerly living who are trying to get along now that they are dead. Bod’s relationships with this new “family” are the crux of the novel and the emotional weight that carries him and the reader along to the end.

At this point in his career, Gaiman has succeeded in making his books look almost easy -- he consistently provides such a well-written reading experience that many critics might think there is little to be impressed by here. That consistency is what makes him one of my favorite authors. He is brilliantly creative but just as importantly, supremely dedicated to his craft. Simply put, Gaiman works hard at writing good books and The Graveyard Book is another stellar example at the results of his work ethic. Perfect reading for kids who like to be a little bit scared, Gaiman is the modern day bearer of Bradbury’s mantle.

Very quietly, Kelly Link has been carving out a niche as an author of surreal and spooky short stories that defy description as effectively as they scare the bejeebers out of their readers. Her latest collection, Pretty Monsters collects several previously published stories along with a new tale in a package that is directed at teens. Rounding out the title are illustrations from Shaun Tan whose own iconic and unusual vision of the world is a perfect match for Link’s. This is a perfect match of author and illustrator and a great introduction to an author who will be loved by teen readers.

There are several standouts for me in Pretty Monstersstarting with the first story, “The Wrong Grave.” Riffing on the true story of Dante Gabriel Rossetti and Elizabeth Siddal, Link references everything from Buffy to Survivor as she writes about Miles Sperry who decided to dig up his dead girlfriend and recover some poems he had melodramatically buried with her (they were the only copies of course). Miles digs up the wrong girl and finds himself instead with “Gloria” who is not at all like the dead Bethany and not interested in Miles's reasons for disturbing her peace. Gloria has been a bit bored it seems and Miles becomes her new diversion -- no matter how hard he tries to get away. It seems a cliché to say the ending is a shocker, but it is and it is splendid and Gloria is pretty much my new ghost hero.

“The Specialist’s Hat” has gained a lot of attention for its spin on babysitters with bedtime stories and still manages to creep me out every single time I read it. (Knowing what will happen next in this one does not diminish it -- if anything the tension builds even more in anticipation of the final page.) “Magic for Beginners” defies expectations and assumptions every step of the way as it follows teenage fans of an unscheduled unexplainable television show who group together to discuss its every twist and turn. The fact that the story’s plot also involves a phone booth bequeathed to the main character and a love triangle (or more) makes it both odd and typical. This is coming-of-age of the decidedly Addams Familyesque kind but crossed as well with a healthy dose of X-Files paranoia. Smart and snappy, “Magic for Beginners” is one of my all-time favorite short stories.

There are several other outstanding offerings in the collection including the Nebula Award winning “The Faery Handbag.” But it was the title story “Pretty Monsters” (published here for the first time) that really put this collection over the top for me. Link takes the “mean girls” high school dynamic and turns it on its ear. In this story the popular girls are not necessarily vicious or cruel but they are foolish and decidedly narcissistic. They “kidnap” Czigany Khulhat, daughter of a foreign diplomat, as part of an initiation. Because she is watching her younger sister, Parci must thus come along as well. Czigany is up front from the very beginning that they must be home at a certain time or her parents will become very upset. The other girls play along with this subtle threat, which steadily becomes more hysterical as the day progresses, until it is clear that the Khulhat girls are not going to be home until well after dark. The others think Czigany is silly, her parents too controlling and that the rules need to be flaunted for their own good. They talk about their own problems and think about their own concerns and barely give Czigany more than a moment’s thought -- except when they are congratulating themselves on how nice they are to initiate her in the first place. This acute inability to see beyond their own noses is classic behavior and sets the girls up for the ultimate fall when it becomes clear Czigany has not been kidding. She and Parci really did need to be home at a certain time and now that they haven’t everything is going to get a whole lot more serious.

Except it might not if the whole thing is just a story. And Link also throws out the caveat that the happy ending depends on whether or not you are a teenage girl or a monster, which sometimes might be the same thing. This takes the mean girls conversation to a fantastic new level which is what Link excels at the most. She is a writer who watches the world around her and then spins it to reflect her own extraordinary visions. For teens who have missed Link’s stories so far, Pretty Monsters will be a treasure of great literary value.

The Secret of Laurel Oaks is based on the very real events that occurred at the Myrtles Plantation in St. Francisville, Louisiana. In the 1830s the owner’s wife and two daughters were poisoned during dinner and in the days that followed a house slave was hanged for the crime. The Smithsonian lists Myrtles as one of the ten most haunted places in America and supposedly the dead children, the slave Chloe and also some people who died later, all walk the grounds at night. People have seen strange things there and it has been the subject of more than one investigation.

Author Lois Ruby takes the truth about Myrtles and turns it into a contemporary fictional story that includes flashbacks to the 1830s. Teens Lila and Gabe arrive at the “Laurel Oaks Plantation” for a working vacation with their parents and soon find themselves with a lot of time on their hands. Lila in particular is susceptible to the ghostly atmosphere and quickly makes friends with Sal, the owner’s foster daughter. The three children find themselves drawn deeper and deeper into the mystery of just what happened to the plantation owner’s family and what task might have been left undone in the wake of their deaths. It is most especially Daphne, the slave girl accused of the murders, who Lila feels an affinity for. Clearing Daphne’s name soon becomes of paramount importance.

To keep the suspense going, Ruby introduces Daphne as a character, telling part of the story through her recollections and part of it through Lila’s discoveries. Daphne reaches out to the children, and her memories of life in slavery are quite vividly told making the novel work on two levels, both as a mystery and a powerful historical drama.

The Secret of Laurel Oaks is a solid page-turner for younger teens and its close proximity to a true story is enough to make anyone wonder about the possibility of ghosts. Ruby has an afterword where she writes about Myrtles and the differences between face and fiction. It will be hard to read this book without wondering what really happened almost two hundred years ago.

Deborah Noye takes on Edith Wharton’s ghost story “Kerfol” about a Frenchwoman convicted of murdering her husband with her collection of related short stories The Ghosts of Kerfol. Beginning in 1613 with direct homage to Wharton, she continues forward in time, always returning to the Kerfol estate, with stories in 1802, 1926, 1982 and 2006. The first story, “Hunger Moon,” is solid horror, with a cruel husband, trapped wife and more than one tragically dead dog. When Wharton’s original twist unfolds, Noyes stays true to the story although she adds multiple other twists that make it both more frightening and poignant.

The subsequent stories all involve visitors to the estate who encounter echoes of the original tragedies. Evil continues to lurk at Kerfol, as do the lost and eternally sad. Each story builds on the ones before, adding layers to Wharton’s legend and creating new supporting characters. Noyes makes it clear that when you brush close to something this unsettled -- to a permanently disturbed location -- even if you walk away from it, you are still altered by the experience. How altered is what she explores and the answers, as varied as life and death, make the original “Kerfol” story that much more compelling.

Readers who enjoy their ghost stories steeped in atmosphere will find much to like in The Ghosts of Kerfol. Noyes captures the periods she writes in quite well and using various plot elements to link them together (far beyond the location) creates an overall tale of murder and lost love that fits as perfectly as any novel length puzzle. Bronte fans take note; this one is a solid entry in Wuthering Heights country.

The Mystery of the Fool & the Vanisher by David & Ruth Ellwand has to be one of the coolest books I’ve seen for the ten and up crowd. The plot involves a recovered journal and the discovery of fairies plus an archaeological dig, some folks involved in nefarious activities and a box buried in a very scary section of the woods. Flashing back and forth in time between the words of Isaac Wilde’s 1889 journal and photographer David Ellwand’s contemporary diary of events, this is a surreal journey in words and images. As Ellwand immerses himself in Wilde’s long lost world, he is both surprised and frightened by the weirdness he uncovers. Wilde saw something he could not comprehend while working on a dig and he carefully preserved all the clues to that discovery for future investigations. The collection of odd tools and masks prompts more questions than answers for Ellwand and compels him to embark on his own investigation. That’s when things take a dark turn and the mystery of Wilde’s disappearance becomes more significant.

Written as fiction but read as nonfiction, it is hard to ignore the museum-like presentation of this richly illustrated story. Piece by piece the authors lay out what Isaac Wilde had to say and what he found in an isolated corner of the English Downs. It’s not a gothic mystery but a trip through fabled history; a visit to the lost part of some deep dark magic archive. Cross Indiana Jones with Spiderwick and you are getting close to what Fool & the Vanisher is all about. As interesting as the mystery is though, I can’t overstate how impressively designed this title is. Its photographs are stunningly orchestrated. This is a book that will draw a wide audience from reluctant younger readers to teens who will find the design unique and definitely worth poring over again and again.

In terms of true gothic, you couldn’t ask for much more of a spot on title then J.P. Hightman’s Victorian era chiller, Spirit. Based on the premise that not all the Salem witches were innocent, it starts with a very creepy bang and doesn’t slow down much from there. Early on readers meet seventeen-year-old spouses Tess and Tobias Goodraven, who have been strongly attached since a fatal fire destroyed their families when they were young. As wealthy teens with an unnatural compulsion to investigate tales of the ghostly and strange, they are very unusual protagonists. Drawn to the story of some banned Salem witches who died at the town of Blackthorne, which is enjoying a resurgence of popularity due a new rail route, the Goodravens are onboard a train filled with revelers for the town’s village carnival when otherworldly events cause it to derail. People are maimed or killed and Hightman doesn’t shy away from describing the bloody details. Slowly but surely the Goodravens uncover the nasty truth of the long dead Blackthorne witches and take them on in a head to head battle for their very souls. I won’t spoil the ending but will say it is in the classic gothic tradition and will certainly keep you up at night. This is absolutely some very creepy October reading and a throwback to old world tales of terror. Don’t think you can outguess where Hightman’s plot is going; it is a surprise every step of the way.

Cool Read: Photographer Jo Whaley specializes in taking photographs of insects and creating what she terms “photographs of narrative fiction.” Her unique fusion of art and science does not horrify, but rather begs the viewer to come in closer and reconsider the common creatures that she frames in spectacularly unexpected tableaus. In the introduction to Whaley’s new book, Theater of Insects photography curator Deborah Klochko writes that her work, “awakens us to the insect” and also that “the stage she creates for each insect is meant to open the viewer’s perspective, allowing associations that would not be likely to arise when viewing a purely informative image.”

So what you see in Theater are butterflies perched above faces on century old sepia-toned photographs now artfully splattered with color or moths staring down the moon and beetles considering the inner workings of a mechanical wonder. Anatomy charts are present, along with reflections, torn pages and little girls lost in a lens that now begs them to fly away. Whaley is a kindred spirit of Rosamund Purcell and fans of her work will certainly find Whaley’s equally appealing. They will also ponder however the source of the artist’s imaginative ideas and the technique that creates rich fantasy out of such ordinary creatures.
In a concluding essay Whaley explains the mechanics of her art and the appeal of her subjects. “The phrase ‘still life’,” she writes, “…comes from the Latin natura mortalis or dead nature. My approach is to consider the still-life set as a theatrical stage, where the backdrops are fabricated and the objects are positioned to create a visual dialogue.” She refers to her photos in Theater of Insects as “fantastic field illustrations.” Anyone intrigued by nature and appreciative of surreal beauty will be drawn to Whaley’s work -- it honors both science and beauty and reminds us how closely the two are entwined. The conversation Whaley is developing here is both personal and wild; it is nature from an uncommon perspective and invites viewers to throw convention to the wind in an effort to join her in this new vision of the natural world.

Being Caribou by Karsten Heuer & Shopping for Porcupine by Seth Kantner

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 23:47:21 -0800

I have alternated between bemusement and horror in the past couple of months as Sarah Palin made Alaska the most talked about weird state in the country. From the repeated assertions about the damn bridge to nowhere to her conviction that Alaskans have foreign policy experience because Russia is right next door (how anyone could believe this I’ll never know), I have found myself fruitlessly waiting for sanity to return to media depictions of the Last Frontier. As it happens, I lived in Alaska full-time for ten years and still maintain residency there. Alaska is my home as much as Florida, where I grew up, and just as residents there continue to struggle against the inanity of jokes about hanging chads, I think Alaskans will be shaking their heads over mooseburgers for years to come. What has been missing in all of the recent crazy discourse is the huge divide between urban and rural living in the state. While differences exist everywhere depending on where and how you live, in Alaska ethnicity, wildlife and history elevate the city versus village argument to a radical level. You live in Town or in the Bush and basically that is all someone needs to know about you up there in order to know just about everything.

Seth Kantner was born and raised in the Bush; twenty-five miles from the nearest village, Ambler (current population about 300), and two hundred “river” miles from the nearest settlement of any significant size: Kotzebue (current population about 3,200). In his new and heavily illustrated memoir, Shopping for Porcupine: A Life in Arctic Alaska he shares how his Lower 48 parents ended up in such a remote location and how he grew to love it. (Kantner still lives in the region.) Told through dozens of vignette-style chapters, the text covers everything from the first home the Kantners built and their relationships with neighbors and friends to the daily life of hunting, trapping and fishing. While the stories about taking care of sled dogs and living near a huge caribou migration are fascinating, the author clearly had more in mind when he wrote this book. Kantner goes beyond offering a peek at rural living to explore some of the rarely discussed aspects of Alaskan life. It is this serious consideration of the state’s distinct social structure that makes Shopping for Porcupine a uniquely personal piece of journalism on an under-reported aspect of American society.

Kantner’s family lived a subsistence lifestyle and he writes about how subsistence has become a flashpoint for the state’s politics and a source of division between urban and rural populations. As eloquent as he is when writing about wolves, moose and caribou, his questions about hunting and subsistence carry a valuable weight to those seeking to understand the “real” Alaskan way of life. Although he uses a camera more often than rifle now, the author clearly still has a great deal of respect for a lifestyle that incorporates “wild food from the land.” But he is not so certain that claims for subsistence hunting privileges are fair when balanced against reliance on “Hondas and Arctic Cats and airplanes” and when enjoyed by those who “eat chicken more often than muskrat.” The definition of life in the Bush has changed radically in the days since he was born and while tradition demands one thing, modern living tends to veer in another direction. Kantner is as conflicted as anyone else on this subject but he bravely asks the questions and voices the concerns that usually go unheard. When you couple this with his observations about the changing climate in his “backyard,” the book becomes a powerful exploration of our rapidly evolving world and a primer for understanding the dichotomy between the two strongest versions of Alaskan life.

In reviewing Shopping for Porcupine I must also point out the author’s many stunning photographs that fill the slightly oversized design. Kantner also includes a chapter on respected wildlife photographer Michio Hoshino, “the Ansel Adams of Japan,” who visited Kotzebue and became a personal friend to the author prior to his sudden death. Kantner’s conversion to photography is well documented in the book and in many cases his reflections on the landscape and the people within it are reflected as strongly in images as they are in his words. The overall literary package is thus significant on multiple levels and a most worthy introduction to a life lived as closely as possible to the natural world.

An overview of a more specific Alaskan topic can be found in Karsten Heuer’s nature title, Being Caribou. In 2003, Heuer, a wildlife biologist, and his wife, filmmaker Leanne Allison, set out on an audacious journey to follow the Porcupine caribou herd on its annual migration from the Yukon Territory in western Canada to its calving grounds in Alaska. The welfare of the herd is a major consideration when discussing oil exploration in the Arctic National Wildlife Refuge (ANWR) and while the author’s concern for the herd clearly played a part in their decision to embark on this trip (and create a documentary film) Being Caribou is a surprisingly nonpolitical book. Mostly this is a report on the sort of dirty, difficult, on-the-ground and in-the-field nature title that has not been written about the caribou. Farley Mowat blurbs the cover (“evocative and hard hitting”) and he seems right at place there as Heuer and Allison did the sort of thing that Mowat excelled at: they followed a group of animals in their element as inconspicuously as possible and recorded everything they witnessed. Along the way they experienced extreme climate conditions (to be expected but uncomfortable to say the least), escaped more than one potentially dangerous encounter with bears and wolves and were nearly swept away by a river. Heuer does not emphasize the difficulties of the trip but rather stresses, again and again, the amazing feat the caribou accomplish by making this journey year after year. What starts out in the beginning as an attempt to understand the mechanics of the caribou migration becomes something more visceral and emotional by the book’s conclusion. Heuer and Allison develop an enormous respect for the animals and this new awareness dramatically changes the way in which they see themselves and the natural world.

For those interested in understanding ANWR better, the author does conduct some political conversations during a few days spent in the village of Kaktovik. In need of a few days break from the hike, Heuer and Allison fly out of the Bush and stay in the small settlement on the Beaufort Sea (current population approx. 300). It is here that the many complicating issues surrounding the decision to drill or not drill come into focus. Officially, Kaktovik, which lies within ANWR, supports drilling. There are those who point to the experiences of the village of Nuiqsut, a coastal village near Prudhoe Bay, as a cautionary tale however and worry about might happen if the rigs arrive. Heuer mainly serves the role of curious visitor in these conversations, carefully navigating the territory between topics of potential economic advancement and collapsing boomtown. Back in the wilderness he and Allison must then measure the significance of the herd against the hard truths in Kaktovik’s struggles. Biologists are not certain just how oil drilling would affect the Porcupine herd (and the many animals who live off of it) and there is also the cultural consequence on the region’s Gwichin people, whose close ties to this herd in particular have led to their strong opposition to the drilling. Heuer leaves these human discussions around the fringes of his narrative however, focusing again and again on the powerful achievement of the annual migration.

The book’s closing pages includes a description of discussions between Heuer and Allison and the aides of several senators and congressmen about their experiences in the north. Their Capitol Hill reception is dismissive at best. The two resolved to “work from the bottom up” and bring the story of the Porcupine caribou herd to the voters. This book is one step in that process and however you feel about drilling in ANWR, you will understand after reading Being Caribou that the refuge is not desolate. As Heuer learned all too well, the only way to understand the caribou and the refuge is to follow them on the ground. That is a truth that Seth Kantner would certainly agree with as he stands firmly planted in Northwest Alaska. It’s easy to flyover the state and think you understand it or catch a soundbyte on the nightly news and think it encompasses the opinions of everyone who lives there. Alaska doesn’t have those kinds of easy answers however, not on oil, not on subsistence and not on way of life. It’s a complicated place with complicated issues as Kantner and Heuer make clear in their appealing and informative titles.

Being Caribou by Karsten Heuer
Milkweed
ISBN 1-57131-308-7
233 pages

Shopping for Porcupine by Seth Kantner
Milkweed
ISBN 978-1-57131-301-0
234 pages

It's about the future

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 11:52:20 -0800

Donna Brazile is one of my favorite people - this is amazing.

Teen titles for October - both spooky and political

Wed, 08 Oct 2008 06:04:51 -0800

The debate went much the way I thought it would go. Both of these men are senators and just as Obama and Clinton were professional until the very end in their meetings, I'm sure Obama and McCain will be as well. McCain attacked a bit more which didn't seem to go over well and I liked Obama's explanation about his health care policy (it was easy to understand and if you don't understand it now then you are determined to be confused). McCain should have elaborated more on this bailout of mortgages idea and the whole Pakistan thing really blew my mind. Obama nailed that one and I don't understand why McCain kept insisting that Obama wanted to invade or attack the country when he has been clear for months on his position. Not a blowout win, but a win on points and not what McCain needed. Back to the trail now, where dear Governor Palin will likely try to incite more people to violence against Obama.

I can't begin to say how much I look forward to November FIFTH. (When our long national nightmare will finally be over and we can watch nature specials and Roseanne reruns again with happy abandon.)

My new column is up at Bookslut with several appropriately creepy titles for October. I've written about Cherie Priest here before, and especially her wonderful new novella Those Who Went Remain There Still. This was published by Subterranean Press for the adult audience but is great for teens and features Daniel Boone and some very real American history. I highly recommend all of Cherie's books.

Also in the column are reviews of Neil Gaiman's The Graveyard Book (as good as expected - he makes it look so easy to write this well), Kelly Link's Pretty Monsters (coolest creepy short story collection for teens this year - she leaves all those "I'm a Buffy wannabe" writers in the dust), Steinbeck's Ghost by Lewis Buzbee (I've written repeatedly how much I enjoyed this mystery/ghost story/homage to L'Engle, Bradbury and Steinbeck mash-up), The Secret of Laurel Oaks by Lois Ruby (MG ghost story/mystery based on one of the most haunted places in America), The Ghosts of Kerfol by Deborah Noyes (truly gothic stories linked together by a common theme and place), The Mystery of the Fool and the Vanisher (hard to describe combination of photography and fairy story that fits firmly in Holly Black territory and looks incredibly cool) and Spirit by JP Hightman (also gothic and has the biggest twist ending I've come across in ages).

My Cool Read is the art and nature title Theater of Insects by Jo Whaley - too gorgeous not to devote an entire post to, so more on this later.

And over at Eclectica Magazine, also this week, my article on political books for teens went up. That one includes This May Help You Understand the World by Lawrence Potter (one of those great books on national and world events that includes brief explanations of everything everyone is talking about), Sunrise Over Fallujah by Walter Dean Myers (as good as you expect and the war book every teen should read), From Baghdad to America by Jay Kopelman (a follow-up that explains how Kopelman and the dog he rescued from Iraq both suffered from PTSD when they got to the US), The Betrayal of Africa by Gerald Caplan (a Groundwork Guide that is an excellent entry into understanding the relationship between Africa and the West - a must for report writers and homeschoolers), The End of the Game by Peter Beard (even more important now than when it was first written and an excellent art/history/environmental title for teens - the man is incredibly gifted in so many ways), No Choirboy by Susan Kulkin (the tragedy of the US prison system from the eyes of teen victims and criminals - very significant), Little Brother by Cory Doctorow (for all its faults, still the biggest SF title for teens this year), Under My Roof by Nick Mamatas (the SF teen title that everyone should have been talking about two years ago), Janes in Love by Cecil Castellucci (begs the question of just what you would do for art) and Bomb the Suburbs by William Upksi Wimsatt (a cross between urban and suburban culture that includes everything from hip hop to graffiti - a true social history).

Hard to pick favorites out of all of these although if pressed I would go with Pretty Monsters, Steinbeck's Ghost, Those Who Went Remain There Still, Theater of Insects, End of the Game, Under My Roof and Sunrise Over Fallujah. But really - those are just my favs; there are plenty of titles to choose from here for everyone else. (And that is the beauty of reviews and recommendations - we throw the titles out there and everyone gets to pick what they want to read!)

[Post pic - an example of Peter Beard's work.]

Minx, The Great Gatsby, Kelly Link, Sarah Vowell, Samira Bellil and Newbery issues

Tue, 07 Oct 2008 21:43:28 -0800

Comic Book Resources has an excellent article on the demise of Minx, with comments from many of the author/illustrators involved. I'm not surprised that the line suffered from being shelved in the graphic novel section of the bookstores - gn readers were never the target and for someone who reads both comics and YA it was clear that this was an imprint looking for YA readers. This is not to suggest that gn readers wouldn't enjoy Minx, but the readers DC was looking for were the ones searching for coming-of-age titles in the YA section. Cecil Castellucci's readers were perfect Minx readers, which was why I was so happy to see her Janes titles. (See my review of her Janes in Love in my teen political books piece in the new issue of Eclectica.) If bookstores had really wanted the Minx books to sell then they should have shelved them in the YA section, plain and simple. Anyone who writes or reviews books for teens knew that; why it escaped the logic of the major chains I'll never know. (Unless of course they are so stuck in their classification rut that they don't care if a book sells or not, just that it "fits" in which case they should get out of the book business and start selling widgets.)

In case you missed it, Little Willow had an excellent piece up at Guys Lit Wire last week on The Great Gatsby. She talked to a lot of different people about why the book still matters and presented her case for the timelessness of its significant contribution to literature. This is exactly the sort of post I was hoping to see over there and combined with Alex's look at a new Ambrose Bierce gn, Leila's review of Joe Hill's Heart Shaped Box and the recent list of recommended horror titles, it has just been a great week at the site.

Kelly Link was interviewed at the Boston Phoenix where her latest book, Pretty Monsters is rightfully saluted for all its fabulousness. (My review will be up in the annual October Country column any day now at Bookslut.) Here's the bit on the title story:

It’s partly a tale of a teenage girl named Clementine whose life is saved by a blond-haired boy named Cabell, partly a tale of girls at a private school enacting an initiation rite on one of the new kids, and partly an examination on the act of reading and how stories can be shape-shifters. Plus latent-lesbian urgings. Also: werewolves.

I didn't get the "latent-lesbian urgings" but maybe I missed it in all the mean girl awesomeness. And the werewolves bit - if you liked Martin Millar's take then you will like Link's more subtle but still intense take as well.

The WSJ interviewed Sarah Vowell and makes me even more eager to read her latest, The Wordy Shipmates (totally on my birthday list) (Yes, my birthday is looming large) (It is a major birthday, in case you're wondering...). A bit of the interview:

I'm a huge fan of the Constitution, but it's continually being betrayed. I have enormous admiration for Lincoln, but the reason for his greatness was that he had to confront the ugliness of slavery. This book looks at the roots of American exceptionalism through the eyes of a person who's seen the photos from Abu Ghraib. I'm incredibly hard on this country the way I would be if I had a child who had a lot of potential and kept messing up.

If you haven't read her earlier books, get on it.

I first read about Samira Bellil several years ago when Paris was on fire during the riots. I've been waiting for her book, To Hell and Back, to be translated ever since. Booklist just mentioned it last month, and even gave it a YA recommendation:

Bellil grew up in Seine-Saint-Denis, a multiethnic suburb of Paris rife with housing projects and street gangs. Raised by Algerian parents, she rebelled at an early age, choosing the streets over her father’s strict, often-violent rule. At just 14 years old, Bellil is gang-raped. Although she is utterly traumatized, she maintains the community’s unwritten “law of silence” for fear of retaliation. When Bellil is raped again, she learns that her friends have also been sexually abused by the same gang members. Choosing to speak out, she files charges against her aggressors, which also means confronting indifferent legal representatives and unsupportive parents. Years of street living, substance abuse, and emotional and physical turmoil follow, as Bellil struggles to restore her self-worth, long clouded over by degradation and humiliation. Bellil’s colloquial narrative is straightforward and urgent. Although Bellil died of cancer at 31 in 2004, her memoir has brought widespread attention to the increasing sexual violence within these French communities, and her words give a voice to other young women who are silently suffering abuse.

An intense book to be sure, but a very important subject and I'm pleased to see it finally in English.

Lots of folks have been weighing in on the SLJ article about the Newberys and I agree with all those who say it is all a matter of taste and/or opinion and really one person's great book is another's rubbish so there's no way we're all going to agree on this. In my mind what makes the Newbery's so frustrating though is that over the years the awards have attained such cache with adults (primarily teachers and parents) that they carry an extra weight. This is not at all the fault of anyone involved - it's just what happens when you have one primary award for a certain age group that has been around for a long long time. I think a lot of people outside the library world have perhaps forgotten that these are just the picks of some adults. That might seem silly but in the bookstore where I worked the Newberys were considered incredibly significant as far as what kids should be reading and when a kid said they didn't want the book the adult with them was usually surprised. ("How could you not????") I take the choices with a grain of salt, much as I do the National Book Awards. Doesn't mean the article isn't a very interesting read though.

Hope you're all planning to watch the debate tonight - and working on those posts for November 3rd and Blog the Vote.

Eric Kimmel & Greek myths

Mon, 06 Oct 2008 17:59:45 -0800

I reviewed The McElderry Book of Greek Myths a couple of months ago along with Charles R. Smith's The Mighty Twelve and Lynn Curlee's Mythological Creatures. At the time I was quite pleased to have three gorgeous books on myths and mythological creatures land in my lap and saw this as a renaissance for one of the standard subjects in children's and teen publishing.

Basically I was thinking that as the myths never go out of style and every kid in the world ends up learning them at some point, it was awesome to see publishers revising the rather dry standards we've all grown up with. (We all love D'Aulaire's but if you're looking for attitude in those retellings you won't find it.) Also, very young children (kindergarten age) are often ready for the myths, but colorful illustrations are pretty much mandatory for that crowd. While I enjoyed all three of the books I reviewed (and my son did as well), it was Eric Kimmel's retelling in the McElderry book, along with Pep Montserrat's outstanding illustrations, that really stood out. I naively thought that Kimmel was likely on his way to a whole series of books on the subject and happily settled back to wait for the next entry (hopefully on the Norse myths).

Unfortunately, my literary optimism this time was dead wrong.

I can't begin to express, as a reader and parent, how disappointed I am in Simon & Schuster for not continuing this series. Kimmel did a great job of including not only the "standards" (Persephone & Hades, Theseus & the Minotaur, Daedelus & Icarus) but also some lesser known myths such as Prometheus and Pygmalion & Galatea. He also retold them all in a manner that injected a lot of fresh blood into the tales. As I wrote last summer: Kimmel is not writing adoring tales but shows both the nobility and pettiness of everyone involved and will likely cause readers to identify quite a bit with his subjects. Midas truly is a ninny here, Medea is crazy, and Ariadne gets her due for providing her critical assistance against the Minotaur.

These are plainly 21st century versions of old stories - the tales have not changed dramatically but Kimmel allows himself to consider just why some of the characters behaved in a certain way. Theseus is a bit of a cad and Icarus not merely thoughtless for flying so close to the sun, but more wistful at the chance to attain great heights after years of imprisonment. Orpheus and Eurydice have a love that knows no bounds and this second meeting with Hades and Persephone merely solidifies what careful readers will have already gathered from their tale: that sometimes opposites do attract and Hell's ruler is a lot more complicated then you might think. (How this tale ended up with a happy ending I'll never know, but it did and is one of my favorites.)

Montserrat's deeply emotional and richly colored illustrations perfectly match the depth that Kimmel attains with his words. Altogether, The McElderry Book of Greek Myths was the sort of gift package that I could see as perfect reading aloud to young children (as I have done, more than once) while also working well for older reluctant readers or those just starting to learn about the myths and looking to get their feet wet slowly before diving into Edith Hamilton. This is a timeless book and I don't say that lightly. I could see Kimmel and Montserrat's work appealing to children over a period of decades just as those that have come before them have managed to do. That is why I was so surprised to hear that the book is not going to have a sequel, a decision that seems remarkably short-sighted to me.

But then again maybe I shouldn't be surprised since no one seems to look beyond six months when planning anything in this blasted country anymore. (And I say that with all the love of a true American.)

So here's the deal. The book has apparently not sold enough copies to justify another. Why anyone would look at sales figures in only one year for a book on myths and use that to predict future earnings I will never understand as it is a subject that everyone and their third cousin knows will never go out of style. I managed to pick up an out-of-print picture book on Norse myths while I was at Powells for the conference but although my son is happy to hear them, he has already mentioned that it is not as good as his favorite. You want to know the biggest irony? Powells had more than a dozen copies of The McElderry Book of Greek Myths facing out in the children's folklore section. Clearly they can see the book has a lot of appeal for their customers. Maybe someone should make a phone call to the powers-that-be at Simon and Schuster and suggest they reconsider their decision.

In the meantime we will return to Persephone, Hades and crew again in my house and wish that Eric Kimmel and Pep Montserrat were able to entertain us with other titles as well. When two talents fit together so well you would think a publisher would celebrate their synergy and reward them - and the reading public - with more chances to shine. An opportunity is being wasted here and I can't believe I'm the only parent to notice it.

ALSO: Go see Tanita's great post on Beverly Cleary's Jean and Johnny: "I wish you could see my copy of the book. Harper Collins has done a reissue, and so all of the new editions are bound either in sort of girly-pink with party dresses or sort of random pink with hamburgers and telephones and other stereotypical sixties teen era detailing. Now I love the pink and I love the sixties, don't get me wrong, but this is an atypical YA romance, and I prefer my cover. My library bound, 1965 edition of Jean and Johnny, which was first published in 1959, is a distinct brick red and has a beige and black drawing on the front of a boy in a plaid shirt walking with a shy-looking girl with horn-rimmed glasses and a realistically slightly terrified expression. It's adorable."

How on earth did I miss this book? It sounds lovely!

Oh my....

Thu, 02 Oct 2008 18:48:52 -0800

First, Lee came up with a catchy idea to refer to our multi-blog posting idea as "Blog the Vote". (Shamelessly stolen from rock stars everywhere.) We will all be blogging about it and linking to yesterday's information post for the next few weeks. If you want in or have any questions, let one of us know.

Now on to Sarah Palin and Supreme Court decisions. A lot of folks are jumping on her (and rightfully so) for her acute inability to give Katie Couric the name of one decision, other than Roe v Wade, that she disagreed with. One decision ever. One decision in the whole history of the Supreme Court. Why she couldn't pull out the obvious elementary/jr high history class ones like Dred Scott or Plessy v Ferguson I will never know. But here's the thing that really bothered me about her silence. Alaska was on the receiving end of a major Supreme Court decision just this last summer. The "Exxon Valdez" decision was enormous news in AK and rightfully so. Prince William Sound has not recovered from the oil spill and at this point it is doubtful that it will happen anytime soon. (This is not to suggest that a lot of good things have not happened there in the years since the accident, but the Sound is still damaged and the fishery is not back to where it was.) Here's what happened to AK in 1989:

The Exxon Valdez spill was the worst in American history, damaging 1,300 miles of shoreline, disrupting the lives and livelihoods of people in the region and killing hundreds of thousands of birds and marine animals. It occurred after the ship’s captain, Joseph J. Hazelwood, left the bridge at a crucial moment. Mr. Hazelwood, an alcoholic, had downed five double vodkas on the night of the disaster, according to witnesses.

And here is what the people of AK were hoping for:

Justice John Paul Stevens, in a dissent, said he would have upheld the punitive damages award, which the federal appeals court in California had reduced to $2.5 billion.

“In light of Exxon’s decision to permit a lapsed alcoholic to command a supertanker carrying tens of millions of gallons of crude oil though the treacherous waters of Prince William Sound, thereby endangering all of the individuals who depended upon the sound for their livelihoods,” Justice Stevens wrote, “the jury could reasonably have given expression to its moral condemnation of Exxon’s conduct in the form of this award.”

And here is part of Governor Palin's reaction in June when the decision was announced:

“I am extremely disappointed with today’s decision by the U.S. Supreme Court,” Palin said. “While the decision brings some degree of closure to Alaskans suffering from 19 years of litigation and delay, the court gutted the jury’s decision on punitive damages.”

Palin added, “It is tragic that so many Alaska fishermen and their families have had their lives put on hold waiting for this decision. My heart goes out to those affected, especially the families of the thousands of Alaskans who passed away while waiting for justice.”

Palin said the decision today undercut one of the principal legs of deterrence for those engaged in maritime shipping in Alaska waters. She called on state and federal agencies to be vigilant and firm in regulating such activities.

So what the hell? How could Governor Palin not discuss this decision with Katie Couric? She knows this decision, she understands it, it was a huge big deal. She knows this decision. The fact that she sat there like a bump on a log and then wandered into pointless boilerplate instead of being specific and discussing the Exxon Valdez leaves me pretty stunned.

It's about Obama and McCain, I know. But this - this is embarrassing for every Alaskan everywhere. This decision was a big deal for us. How could our governor be so clueless?

Don't answer that question.

Back tomorrow with book news, I swear.

[Post pic of the clean up in Prince William Sound in the days after the spill. For a round-up of multiple articles reacting to the decision, see the Anchorage Daily Times list.]