ColumnRead a book, sustain your mind.

“Once upon a time…” It raises a question, doesn’t it? Once upon when?

As much as the people who populate a piece of fiction, the context of when a story takes place can be a powerful character in the books we read. When drives plot, creates action, and provides drama that makes us think and feel. When also, of course, helps set the scene, orientating us with a framework for making assumptions and even providing us with a vocabulary to use as we go. Yes, the simple and inviting “once upon a time” is indeed a loaded phrase.

Books that lean into the “back when” aspect of a story are collectively known as historical fiction, a loosely defined genre that includes novels whose action takes place (some say) 50 or more years before they were penned. From there, the category is really anybody’s game. Some authors use an era solely as a backdrop for wholly fictional characters, simply submerging make believe in a recognizable timeframe. Others painstakingly research and (re)create historically accurate, “real” characters and events, offering as little fiction as possible and avoiding the nonfiction category only by virtue of contrived dialogue and minor speculation. Most such tales exist somewhere between those two approaches, though all take us to another time and place.

Much like place plays a role in a story, requiring its own form of character development to ring true and get the reader where the author wants him or her to go, historical timeframes beg for their own meticulous construction. It’s not easy for a writer to give a moment of time its full due, presenting the sights, sounds, smells and nuances of a time gone by in a way that comes across as authentic. Done right, however, the result can well serve any category of fiction—mystery, romance, adventure, horror, comedy, you name it—elevating stories to present rich matrices of ideas.

Gore Vidal’s great Creation is an excellent illustration of genre (and a favorite of mine since I was young). The story takes place in the 5th century BC and has a fairly simple premise: An unlikely and largely unaligned Persian diplomat (a fictional decedent of Zoroaster who is handpicked to be the “real” Persian prince Xerxes’ childhood companion) ends up in the role of a traveling diplomat on behalf of the great empire. Here’s the cool part: During this period in history, Socrates, the Buddha, Confucius, Lao Tzu and other heavyweights are alive—and our hero, Cyrus, as he assumes his task of roaming and representing, gets a meet and greet with each of these visionaries.

The book is an arresting read: We get Vidal’s unique storytelling abilities (it’s a page-turner), tons of political and geographic history (note the Persian outlook here, as opposed to our usual view from Greece and the West of this critical time in history), and the opportunity to explore the lives and philosophies of some of the greatest innovators and spiritual giants the world has ever known. Pick your angle and you’re in. Obviously it’s all from Gore’s particular social and political angle, but what’s not to like about that? It’s his fiction, right? (Vidal haters and conservatives, please pile your letters here to my right.)

More on Later

While epics like Creation reach back to a time that (by definition) requires massive amounts of speculation, other successful historical novels tend to their expository, artistic and philosophical work using the more recent—and well-documented—past.  While this might seem to be limiting in terms of having to follow the strict rules of “what we know actually happened” and “who did what,” this is not always the case.

E.L. Doctorow’s masterpiece Ragtime, for example, covers a period of time in the early 1900s when our nation was struggling to cope with unprecedented social, political and technological change. Presented through the interwoven lives of three families—one African American, one high-class WASP and the other Jewish immigrants—the novel powerfully examines the many (think melting pot) issues and challenges its post-Civil War/pre-WWI characters experience. Though it uses a backdrop of people and events that are true to history (J.P. Morgan, Harry Houdini, Carl Jung, just to name-drop a few), Doctorow’s story at times has an almost ethereal, magical—even mythological—feel that gives us an emotional sense of the pivotal time that no direct read of nonfictional events possibly could.

Regarding even more recent events in 20th century America (if you’ll allow me to push the 50-year rule; do the 1960s and 70s now qualify as historical fiction?), consider Philip Roth’s (perhaps best) American Pastoral—a monumental look at the effects of the cultural milieu of the pre and actual Vietnam War era on the lives of a New Jersey family. While events remain true to the time, it is the very personal story of a fictional family’s interpersonal trials that illustrate the era rather than the events themselves. The overwhelming feeling one gets from this novel is that we at once comprise and are at the mercy of a great sweeping march of events that are beyond our control. Epic stuff.

As for specific events, it’s true that in many ways, historical fiction can offer as much or more insight into an era or issue than any nonfiction can—and have a cultural impact to go with it. Perhaps the best example of this in our modern landscape is how many Americans (non-African Americans, in particular) have only recently begun to get their arms around the truths of slavery and racism. The cultural influence of novels like Alex Haley’s Roots, Alice Walker’s The Color Purple and Toni Morrison’s Beloved, is immeasurable when it comes to our society’s relationship with this horrifying aspect of our nation’s distant and recent past, as well as, sadly, our current world. These stories have entered the mainstream lives of millions of all types Americans, influencing national consciousness and altering the way countless people view race and gender, as well as political, social, economic and cultural aspects of the country.

Finally, to give you one quick take on the breadth of the role of historical fiction on the literary landscape, consider this: In the last 10 InPRINT columns—none of which were focused on that genre, per se—at least 11 novels discussed would fit into the the category. All are wonderful reads: The Clan of the Cave Bear, Death Comes from the Archbishop, Disaster Was My God, Water Music, The Book Thief, The Last Nude, The Cider House Rules, The Paris Wife, Cain (for those of you who might count the Bible as history), The Buddha in the Attic and True Grit—along with American Pastoral. My take aside, these books are on the must-read lists of many people. Clearly, history is among the most versatile and popular literary tools, capable of doing so much more than just exploring itself through the art form. Historical fiction offers insight into our current selves and how we think and function as humans, regardless of what time it was, or is or will be—be it once upon a time or many years from now.

____________

History, mystery, horror, sex, war—a quick scan of the last 500 years brings to mind the following seven wonderful novels, each guaranteed to enhance your understanding of now by looking back at then…

Wolf Hall, Hillary Mantel (England, 1500-35)

Love a straight-up great story done right? You can believe the hype about Hillary Mantel’s 2009 Man Booker award-winning portrayal of Thomas Cromwell’s life and relationship with Henry VIII. Wolf Hall‘s gripping and rich approach to the classic tale reframes the usually unredeemable Cromwell into a more sympathetic character, while the righteous Thomas More suffers particularly ill treatment. (The book’s sequel, Bring Up the Bodies, was published just this year.)

My Name is Red, Orhan Pamuk (Turkey, 1591)

Nobel Prize winner Orhan Pamuk’s celebrated 1998 story of “miniaturist” artists in the Ottoman Empire manages to hold you with its unique storyline while at the same time playing with modern (and clever) literary techniques, adding a layer of freshness to this view of a very old world. Shifting voices and stories only enhance My Name is Red’s intrigues and mysteries, which are all worthy of Sultan’s court. (Also check out Pamuk’s intense The White Castle, another great historical fiction set in Istanbul a number of years later in 17th century.)

Girl With a Pearl Earring, Tracy Chevalier (Holland, 1660s)

A behind-the-scene story of the great Dutch artist Johannes Vermeer, his masterwork and his model, Girl With a Pearl Earring brings 17th century Delft to life as the backdrop for romance and jealousy in the context of family and class systems. Tracy Chevalier’s 1999 novel brings us in direct contact with the artist, era, and place in a way that even the successful movie could not. Anyone who has ever stared into the eyes of a great portrait and dreamily wondered, “Who is this person? What was he or she like? Why did the artists choose to paint him/her?” will understand the power of this celebrated novel.

Perfume: The Story of a Murderer, Patrick Süskind (France, mid-1700s)

A twisted and glorious fairytale set in prerevolutionary France, Patrick Süskind’s 1985 story tells us of of ill-born Grenouille, a wretched character with no scent of his own, but with an uncanny, savant-like ability to identify and create every aroma know to man. With a protagonist whose character and deeds rivals the greatest gothic anti-heroes, Perfume will bring you up close to and ultimately inside the mind of the madman—and all the beautiful and vile smells of a sad time and place.

True History of the Kelly Gang, Peter Carey (Australia, 1850-80)

Two-time Booker Prize winner (including one for this novel), Australian Peter Carey is a jack-of-all-trades when it comes to fiction who seems to effortlessly transition his work back and forth between historical and modern life and culture. His 2000 novel, True History of the Kelley Gang is a fictionalized autobiographical account of the outlaw Ned Kelly, his gang and their struggles against the oppressive British Empire. Presented as a found manuscript and true to the vocabulary and vernacular of the time, this riveting and poignant “Australian Western” will have you deeply engaged in a people’s struggle.

Cézanne’s Quarry,  Barbara Corrado Pope (France, 1880s)

How about a murder mystery in which the great artist Paul Cézanne is a suspect? With paintings functioning as clues, Barbara Corrado Pope’s 2008 novel reads like a noir thriller with plot twists and surprises worthy of Dashiell Hammett. Cézanne’s Quarry is a prime example of how placing a simple mystery in the context of a time of tremendous artistic and scientific transition can elevate a story beyond the traditional whodunit.

History of a Pleasure Seeker, Richard Mason (Holland, France, South Africa, late 1800s-early 1900s)

Exploring the grandness and fragility of the Belle Époque in Europe, History of a Pleasure Seeker is the new (2012) and marvelously crafted story of (fictional) Piet Barol’s rise from poverty to potential greatness. Clever and upward-reaching as he is charming and sensual, Richard Mason’s unforgettable lead character’s attention to the details of life light up this golden era (the creation of New York City’s iconic The Plaza Hotel even plays a role). Mason’s particularly adept with his unflinching depictions of Piet’s many sexual encounters, not always an easy task for a writer.

Enchantments, Kathryn Harrison (Russia, 1917)

As if the life of Gregori Rasputin and last days of the Romanovs aren’t mysterious enough by way of historical fact, Kathryn Harrison’s latest novel (2012) brings us deep inside the world of the last “first family” at the conclusion of Tsarist Russia. The story is told from the perspective of the Mad Monk’s eldest daughter, Masha, who was brought into the inner circle of the royal family after her father’s murder only to share the beginning of the storied monarchy’s end. With its rich and poetic language, Enchantments is both chilling and romantic (the book’s centerpiece is Masha’s unique relationship with youngest Romanov and heir to the throne, Alexei Nikolaevich), and teases out the humanity from the violence and upheaval of the revolutionary era.

The Stalin Epigram, Robert Little (Soviet Union, 1940s)

A bit of a sleeper, but a powerful and memorable read, The Stalin Epigram is a fictionalized account of the Russian poet Osip Mandeslstam’s defiance of Joseph Stalin. The story takes place during the height of dictator and murderer’s purges, deadly “collectivization” and silencing of voices across the Soviet Union. Robert Littell’s 2009 novel is narrated by the poet himself, as well by his wife and friends who together deliver the poetry, courage and intellectual expression that was so violently oppressed during such dark days.

The Art Student’s War, Brad Leithauser (Detroit, 1940s)

Set in wartime Detroit as the city made its ascent toward becoming a cultural and industrial giant of the 20th century—and before its epic fall in the last quarter of that same century—Brad Leithauser’s story is of a young woman and artist, whose pursuit of independence and the development of her own aesthetic collides with the realities of war and its cultural influences at home. The Art Student’s War has a calm urgency to it, giving us the feeling that we’re sitting on the precipice of new and more complicated era—indeed the one we inhabit today.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly column, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

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InPrint: Gatsby, Paradise and the 1% – F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pre-Occupation

Top image:  George M. Groutas, Prague Orloj (Prague Astrinical Clock), installed 1410

Photo: codepinkhq, Alice Walker, Washington DC, International Women’s Day demonstration, 2003

The post InPRINT: Once Upon a Time: Great Historical Fiction – 1 Genre, 10 Novels, 5 Centuries appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnRead a book. Sustain your mind.

In yet another new chapter of “What’s Going on Upstairs,” it seems that scientists have had a virtual breakthrough in figuring out what fiction does to our brains. Recent studies show that reading about a made-up event can trigger the same neuro-bells and whistles as does taking part in an actual event. That is to say, when we read, “See Spot run,” we in some ways experience Spot running. With this in mind, given that it’s Earth Month, let us consider how certain stories can make us feel as if we’re soaring through the air, splashing in the sea or, for the more grounded among us, happily playing in the dirt.

But first, let’s agree with our friends in the lab (no deniers here). There’s no doubt that certain words and well-crafted sentences can have a similar effect on our minds as does the smell of fresh-baked bread, taking us to a time and place far beyond where we are when the reading experience occurs. And that’s the point, right? We often read books to escape our current experience and trade it in for another. Moreover, in many of the best novels, place functions as a character in and of itself, complete with attributes that go beyond backdrop to both embody and tease all five senses; whether it be Paris or Pi’s pontoon, the venue of a novel informs how we “feel” about a story and allows us to “go along” with the action.

So let’s celebrate novels that take us outside – tales that get our tails off the couch, out of the library and up from our lounge chair (yes, a beach read implies that you’re outside, but you know what we mean) and take us someplace else—namely, someplace without a roof. Enclosed please find deserts, jungles and mountains, oceans and rivers, blue skies and lush valleys…

1. Death Comes for the Archbishop, Willa Cather (1927)

A natural and majestic silence pervades Willa Cather’s story of Bishop Jean Marie Latour and Josh Vaillant’s humble mid-19th century journey from the Midwest to a newly established Catholic diocese in New Mexico Territory. From the onset, as the two travel first to the Gulf of Mexico before heading out into the Native American frontier, Death Comes for the Archbishop captures a feeling that is pristine, nascent and dry – a pure presentation of the American West on the eve of conquest. Reading the novel, you get a deep sense of (mis?)guided faith as you witness the two men’s plodding entrance into a new and largely undisturbed world. Every village, mesa, path and stone along the way is offered up for examination and contemplation. In contrast to later, typical Western novels where the outward thrust is violent and clumsily unobservant, Cather allows us to clearly see the trail upon which our nation was to tread.

2. The Dharma Bums, Jack Kerouac (1958)

Dash, gallop and hop-skip from San Francisco to the Sierra Nevada with Ray Smith (Kerouac) and Japhy Ryder (based on the author’s friend, Zen Buddhist and Beat poet Gary Snyder) as they whoop and hike their way out of city life in a search of transcendence. Booted and ruck-sacked, these are perhaps Kerouac’s most “holy” characters. The plot of The Dharma Bums rises up, almost panting, as Kerouac’s signature freestyle prose is ideal for delivering the air and sounds of those epiphanies that only happen in nature. Even at rest, you’re there with them to catch your breath: “The yard was full of tomato plants about to ripen, and mint, mint, everything smelling of mint, and one fine old tree that I loved to sit under on those cool perfect starry California October nights unmatched anywhere in the world.”

3. Jonathan Livingston Seagull, Richard Bach (1970)

“It was morning, and the new sun sparkled gold across the ripples of a gentle sea.” This is the poetic and unforgettable opening to this beautiful tale of rebellion, self-seeking and joyous aerial defiance. Jonathan Livingston Seagull flies both with and against the wind, and has touched millions of readers in that unforgettable, “I remember exactly where and when I read it” way. Richard Bach’s simple tale of the young hero bird is perhaps the closest you’ll ever to come to flying without leaving the ground. Each time he ascends from the confines of the earth, he takes us along with him to feel the assistance and challenge of every breeze and gust that affects his every… single… feather.

4. The Clan of the Cave Bear, Jean Auel (1980)

Twenty-thousand years fail to distance us from the rich natural textures and challenges described by Jean Auel in her story of a chance coming together of a Cro-Magnon girl and a tribe of Neanderthals. You can almost smell the dank caves, primal mud and lush forests of the prehistoric landscape that hosts Ayla and her adoptive clan, as they navigate the edge of the era’s Ice Age. The first of the author’s Earth’s Children series, The Clan of the Cave Bear was based, according to Auel, on a great deal of research, with resulting language that allows us to trust (some have said too much so) the story’s historical backdrop and crawl into the cave of prehistory to enjoy a page-turning plot that, given the success of the series’ ensuing novels, may likely leave you craving more.

5. Water Music, T.C. Boyle (1982)

The first novel of the always funny and insanely observant T. Coraghessan Boyle, Water Music is an historical and satirical examination of two sadly misguided, yet somehow majestic and even glorious tragic heroes—conman Ned Rise and the great adventurer Mungo Park. Taking place largely in Imperial British West Africa, the novel’s lavish language and plot are as twisted as its main characters who come together in the late-1770s/early-1800s in a quest to find fame and fortune—and the source of the Niger River. Tapping into the imagination of discovery, the relationship between the reader and the novel’s landscape—notably the river itself—is cemented early on and lasts through to the (fabulously) bitter end. Guaranteed you’ll find yourself more than once wiping the sweat off your brow in heat of the African day.

6. Galápagos, Kurt Vonnegut (1985)

Back to the sea. That’s where our “big brains” have gotten us in this ghostly accounted, post-apocalyptic tale of the last humans (among them Mick Jagger and Jacqueline Kennedy Onassis) and the evolutionary de-evolution that follows our gravest mistakes. What have we become? Wiser perhaps, but mercifully less brainy, the new humans of Galápagos are flippered creatures who hunt with their snouts, and are generally less capable than their ancestors who were, needless to say, occupied with ill-advised tasks like bomb making and facilitating global warming. Like all great Vonnegut tomes, we’re treated here to his rare form of fanciful pessimism, which in some weird way rings optimistic. A maestro of simplicity and irony, the author’s language transports us ethically and emotionally in terms of our relationship with our natural world.

7. Ishmael, Daniel Quinn (1992)

With the natural world embodied in the form of a giant Gorilla/Socratic instructor, Ishmael is Daniel Quinn’s philosophical manifesto as much as it is a novel. The story retells history through a stunningly fresh and clear lens that exposes, point-by point, the illusion of human greatness and superiority as a fantastic and cataclysmic lie. Zeroing directly in on the Bible and the great stories we tell ourselves about ourselves, the book’s teacher unfurls for the narrator new explanations and interpretations of events and roles that allow him (and us) to rethink humanity’s relationship with the environment. While this story doesn’t so much take us outside, per se, it offers a new view of who we are here on this earth and our role in sustaining what is not ours.

8. Into the Wild, Jon Krakauer (1996)

A biography that reads like a mystery (sorry for foray out of fiction here, but you can file this one under “you cannot make this stuff up”), the great chronicler Jon Krakauer invites us to join him in his effort to understand the life of Christopher McCandless. Later made into a truly great movie (in 2007), Into the Wild takes us along on the 24-year-old’s life walkabout, which culminated in his disappearing into the Alaskan wilderness with a 10-pound bag of rice. The journey is one of self-actualization attained by pushing, poking and prodding the natural world a in way that calls upon the painful alchemy of exposure and danger. Somehow this cautionary tale both beckons and warns, presenting the dichotomy of risk and reward in a way that leaves us breathless and wondering what self-discovery is worth.

9. Last Night in Twisted River, John Irving (2009)

Probably too often (and sloppily) referred to as the American Charles Dickens (and a more symbolic and postmodern writer than he would like to admit), John Irving is known for plot brilliance and character development nonpareil. His powerful talents, when turned upon the natural world and how we negotiate it – namely here, New Hampshire’s Androscoggin River and the logging professionals who work on its shores and in its waters – are a literary force to be reckoned with. Last Night in Twisted River’s time on and along the water drives the story forward with Irving’s characteristic power and engagement. While there, we are inside the camps, towns and forests of the Northeast for the plot-developing twists and turns of the author’s 12th and perhaps most natural world-oriented novel.

10. State of Wonder, Ann Patchett (2011)

Reading this story of a Minnesota physician who chases her past and future up the Amazon River, one cannot help but think of the great Joseph Conrad’s Heart of Darkness (if you haven’t read it, think Apocalypse Now without the napalm). Indeed, we feel in our guts the upriver suction that possesses Marina Singh as she searches for answers surrounding the fever-caused death of a colleague who succumbed while searching for a mysterious and brilliant pharmaceutical specialist who has disappeared into her “research.” Ann Patchett’s State of Wonder is a page-turner (the plot flows as deliberately as the river itself), and you’re sure to feel the heat and bugs and hot rain as you see “civilization drop away again and again” into a jungle that breathes a single color: “The sky, the water, the bark of the trees: everything that wasn’t green became green.”

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly feature, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

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InPrint: Gatsby, Paradise and the 1% – F. Scott Fitzgerald’s Pre-Occupation

InPrint: Not for Kids Only – 10 Young Adult Novels You Need to Read

InPrint: On the Road, Again – Revisiting Jack Kerouac

InPrint: Les Histoires De Paris & Two Novel Additions

Top image: Zach Welty

The post InPRINT: 10 Novels That Make You Want to Play Outside appeared first on EcoSalon.

ColumnRead a short book. Sustain your mind.

When I was a teenager, I related more to books than I did to most other kids – and certainly to most adults. There was something about Huck and Holden and Ponyboy and their stories that was more real to my inner thought-space than were the characters who populated my adolescent landscape – teachers who didn’t get it, kids and cliques who judged without so much as a hint of eye contact, adults who seemed to have long forgotten the angst of their own youth.

Great fiction (whose net was cast wide enough to include my age group) didn’t talk down to me. It didn’t mock or tease or obfuscate. The characters were my comrades – respectful, smart and compassionate, and in some private way, just between them and me, they seemed to have my back. They respected both my sensibilities and civil rights. They were mature like me, of course, and they spoke the way I spoke inside my head – indignantly, sometimes with rage, yet often with a fearlessness that I didn’t possess. They unraveled their worlds to understand the wrongness of their shame and guilt and I was grateful to have them to show me the way through difficult times.

Great fiction is just that – great fiction. And great characters, regardless of their age or yours, always illuminate your way. Speaking on behalf of my inner kid and his fictional comrades, what was and is now designated as “Young Adult” literature is not, contrary to popular belief, a genre that’s dumbed down, a mere pat on the head for all those precious little readers out there. What it is is literature that happens to examine subject matter through characters that appeal to teens.

What does this mean? According to Katie MacBride, of the Mill Valley [CA] Public Library, who helped me compile the list below, what adults don’t get (especially those engaged in the twisted and ongoing battle to censor what teens see and read, including virtually every book included here) is that young adults live – wait for it – here on Earth, just like us, and not in some sterilized prep-room for “real” life. “Personal crises, sex and gender issues, violence, class warfare, politics – they experience and have to process it all,” she says. “If a book truly reaches young people, it’s a great book – and it will likely reach you too.” Amen. Unless of course, you somehow lost your depth as you grew older. (A concept that perhaps is more common than we’d like to admit.)

Arresting plotline? Universal themes? Relatable characters? Forget the “target age group” and dig in. Here are 10 books (an insanely partial list) even mature adults need to read – or reread, as the case may be. I know not every Young Adult title (specifically, for ages 12-17) is right for “Adult” Adults, but these are. (Oh, and we don’t do spoilers here. So read on…)

Some Stalwarts: Three Classics

Catcher in the Rye, J.D. Salinger (1951) – Mark Twain’s Huck Finn aside, Salinger’s masterpiece is perhaps the greatest “crossover” novel of all time. Here, in a work not specifically directed at a young audience, we see through the eyes of the everlasting and ultimately relatable 17-year-old Holden Caulfield, the embodiment of teenage angst and alienation. His flashback story exposes cultural and interpersonal superficiality, and explores the challenge of maintaining authenticity in a postmodern world.

Lord of the Flies, William Golding (1954) – The story of a group of young boys forced to create their own civilization on a deserted island is a perfect lens for the examination of the greatest and most horrifying human impulses. The struggle between the urges to live and function as a society and the lure of power and corruption is front and center in this classic novel that’s as much about grand human needs, desires and flaws as it is about anything specific to teenage years.

The Chosen, Chiam Potok (1967) – Set in the insular microcosm of the Jewish community of 1940s Brooklyn, New York, this celebrated novel explores issues of friendship, family and diversity, and the struggle to find oneself in a world where entrenched forces have the power to lock in an individual’s destiny. Fifteen-year-olds Bobby and Danny represent a sort of yin and yang existence, and the trials of their relationship offer timeless insights that reach far beyond their age and culture.

New Tales for New Times: Three More for the Canon

The Giver, Lois Lowry (1993) – Joining the lofty ranks of 1984, Brave New World and A Handmaid’s Tale, this great dystopian achievement presents a bleak future as seen through the eyes of a 12-year-old boy named Jonas. Occupying a pivotal role in his pathologically calculated society, Jonas functions as a bridge between the memories of the old world and the blankness of the new as it is forcibly transitioned to a horrifying “Sameness.” Like it’s heralded predecessors, this novel offers us a look at where we are as a society and what we are becoming.

The Perks of Being a Wallflower, Stephen Chbosky (1999) – A series of letters written by a high school freshman reveals the challenges he faces as he tries to merge a complicated and confusing personal life into a mainstream world. The story deals with issues ranging from homosexuality to rape and suicide, and examines how the painful details and idiosyncrasies of one’s life can lead from withdrawal to participation and back again – a challenge not uncommon to anyone, at any age, in any culture.

Speak, Laurie Halse Anderson, 1999 – It’s hard to speak about Speak without “spoiling” the plot. Suffice to say that Melinda Sordino enters high school with a secret – a secret so deeply painful that she cannot even think it to herself, let alone share it with the world around her, which is now threatening to leave her behind. A novel that takes on issues that far outscope adolescence, Speak seeks to adjust our vocabulary and thinking around suffering and self-blame. For this, it has become a favorite target of censors across the country – efforts that are, in this case (and in this writer’s opinion), criminal in their own right.

Read On: The 2000s

The Book Thief, Markus Zusak (2006) – “Mystery bores me. It chores me. I know what happens and so do you. It’s the machinations that wheel us there that aggravate, perplex, interest, and astound me.” So says Death, who knows all and tells a tale of young Liesel Meminger (alternating with her own accounts) as she navigates Nazi Germany in this story of survival and discovery. Somewhere in the abstract sadness (Death likes to distill feelings and happenings to a macabre and basic color scheme) and primal reality of the events that swirl around her, Liesel scratches out a life for herself that features some semblance of humanity. Among her coping skills is her budding relationship with books, some of which she rescues from Nazi book burnings as she dares to feel in the face of fate.

The Hunger Games, Suzanne Collins, 2008 – Okay, okay, calm down, I’ll say it. Yes, this is a great book. A killer read, in fact. This dystopian bestseller, the first of a trilogy that’s taking the world by storm, is the first person account of a great heroine – the “girl on fire,” Katniss Everdeen – who is one of many children forced to pay for the sins of their parents (daring to rise up against a post-apocalyptic Totalitarian regime) in a annual, government-sponsored, unspeakably horrifying spectacle. Thick with cultural symbolism and metaphor (everything from consumer and celebrity culture to class warfare and environmental degradation comes to mind), The Hunger Games is also a spectacular thriller of a novel. Put it down. Dare you… and “may the odds be ever in your favor.”

Jumpstart the World, Catherine Ryan Hyde, 2010 – Thrust into an adult living situation (that is to say, living alone) while still in high school, Elle faces an all-too-sudden and accelerated need to occupy into her own emotional self. A literal cast-off, she’s forced to quickly react and assign meaning to unfamiliar relationships and people and their roles (gender and otherwise) in her jumpstarted life. “Independence has no reverse gear. Fear or no fear,” realizes Elle. The struggle then becomes to “just be as close to yourself as you can possibly bring yourself to be.” Sound wise? Simple, almost effortless prose belies life’s certain complications in this great read from the author of Pay it Forward.

The Fault in Our Stars, John Green, 2012 – Suffering, dignity, destiny, coping with the diminishing returns of life. Alas, “the world is not a wish-granting factory” and cancer survivor (for the time being), 16-year-old Hazel Grace Lancaster must deal with that fact. A deep and intensely philosophical book, The Fault in Our Stars boldly submits that “some infinites are bigger than others” and then crawls inside a few unfortunately smaller ones, bravely exploring shortened lifespans from the inside looking out – without the polite pulling of punches. How does love and life appear through such a prism?  How can such a read shed light on your own life experience? In a world where life is “a side effect of dying,” you might ask, what’s it worth to you? Yong Adult fiction? Read it and you tell me.

Editor’s note: News & Culture contributor Scott Adelson’s biweekly feature, InPRINT, reviews and discusses books new and old, as well as examines issues in publishing.

ALSO CHECK OUT:

InPrint: On the Road, Again – Revisiting Jack Kerouac

InPrint: Les Histoires De Paris & Two Novel Additions

Between the Lines: The Power of the Written Word

InPrint: Small Presses, Big Fiction – 2 Books You Shouldn’t Miss

Top image: Pink Sherbet Photography

The post InPRINT: Not for Kids Only – 10 Young Adult Novels You Need to Read appeared first on EcoSalon.