Archive for August 8, 2014

Blackboard: A Personal History of the Classroom

I am proud of my friend, Lewis Buzbee, who has written this much-acclaimed book — and it just came out this week. He is a great writer and friend and I can’t wait to read this new one. A book for anyone who has gone to school, or cares about education.

A classic back-to-school book.

 

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“Buzbee’s affectionate account [is] a subtle, sharply etched critique of contemporary public education. . . . Deeply affectionate toward teachers, harshly critical of budget cuts, the book offers an eloquent, important reminder (which in a perfect world would inform policy) about the nature of school.”—Publishers Weekly, starred review

“A bracing rejoinder to the didactic, data-driven books from policy gurus and social scientists. . . . From the layout of schools to the distinction between ‘middle school’ and ‘junior high school,’ Buzbee spreads engaging prose across the pages, providing both a reminiscence of better days and a considered examination of the assumptions we all make about what does—and does not—constitute a quality education. . . . A welcome book on the importance of education for all.”—Kirkus Book Vault Reviews

A Comic by Mark Tatulli, for Book Lovers

 

 

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Due to time constraints, I kind of slopped this comic up here without adding further comment. And I think that’s valid, you know. Let the work stand on its own, without me trying to influence how you experience it.

And also, hey, I was busy.

But I love this comic, which was originally shared by my friend (and poet), Mary Lee Hahn. I think it’s deep and poignant, chilling even. It delivers far more than a quick diversion or momentary chuckle.

Think of this world. Think of the messages children hear. Or what we all hear, every day. We are defined and judged and far too often found wanting by this anonymous media monster that surrounds us, like a many-tentacled sea monster pulling down another ship.

We’re too fat, too poor, not good enough.

And then, silence.

And books. That deep, wide-open space we give ourselves when we open a book, and another, and another. Reading is such a gift, and it’s been central to my life for many, many years. Today, I just feel grateful for the reading life.

The interior life.

Thank you, Mark Tatulli, for expressing it so simply, so eloquently.

 

 

Fan Mail Wednesday #186: In Which I Do a Reader’s Homework Assignment on “BYSTANDER”

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Here we go, folks, Fan Mail Wednesday. This one came via the interwebs!

 

9780312547967I am going to be a 7th grader this September. Over this summer, I decided to read Bystander. I have couple of questions.

1. How does Eric’s personality change throughout the story?

2. How would you describe Eric Hayes using metaphor?

It would be helpful if you could reply as soon as possible.

Thank you.

Sincerely,

Rika

 

I replied:

 

Wait a minute, this sounds like homework! I hate homework! Or you trying to trick me into doing your homework?

Okay, I’ll play.

To me, Eric’s personality doesn’t make a radical change over the course of the story. I think his awareness changes, his understanding grows, as he observes more things. Remember, he’s new to the school; he has no past with any of those characters. That’s how I think of him in this story, he’s a witness, an observer, almost in a role that’s similar to that of a detective working a mystery. We generally don’t ask how Sam Spade changed in a story, or Philip Marlowe (classic detectives of American Literature, btw). Instead, Eric’s perception deepens, he learns, he grows. For “change,” I’d look to Mary, since I think she’s the real key to the story, even though she is a so-called minor character.

Describe Eric Hayes using metaphor? He’s a camera. Click. A video recorder. A secret listening device. He’s one of those cameras hidden behind the mirror at all the ATM machines. He sees, he records, he absorbs. He is also, as I wrote earlier, “like” a detective.

795.Sch_Jigsaw_jones_0.tifAs you might know, I wrote the “Jigsaw Jones” mystery series. 40 books in all. And I’ve actually thought quite a bit about detectives, read a lot of mysteries, and studied up on the genre some. The key to a detective — in the great tradition of the detective novel through the years — is that he (or she!) is the moral compass of the story. The person with a deep sense of justice. The person who sorts out right and wrong in a world gone bad. The reliable narrator. The great detective is the through-line in the story, the voice you can trust in a world of lies and corruption.

Does that help?

Now go out and have a terrific summer!

And hey, Rika — you are welcome!

JP