First of all, a tangent about my opinion on censorship. It's stupid. Always. Ok, maybe not always, but pretty dang nearly. That is to say that I grew up reading things that would probably be considered wildly inappropriate for my age range. A rather tame example--I remember checking out Robin McKinley's The Blue Sword when I was in...4th grade maybe? and the librarian looked at the cover, looked at me in my wee 4th gradedness, and said "are you sure you should be reading this? I think you might be a little too young..." To which I responded "My mom doesn't care what I read, and I promise you this will be fine." Admittedly, had my mom been there she probably would have qualified that statement. I think possibly the reason my mom "didn't care what I read" is because I have always had remarkably good taste in books. But it was the truth. I don't think my mom could have cared less if I was reading an innocuous fantasy book, even if it did have semisortofnotreallyoblique sexual references. And, being in 4th grade, those went right over my head and I didn't realize exactly what was happening in them till I reread the book later in life. And that's the point. If you're old enough to be interested in the story then read the story. If there are "mature" themes then you'll be "mature" enough to understand them so whatever or you won't be and they'll go over your head. And I personally intend to cultivate the sort of relationship with my kids that they know they can ask me about anything if they have questions. Censorship, in my humble opinion, is for cowards who don't want to have to think about hard questions.
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| What is that honey? You want to know WHY he hates green eggs and ham? Hmm...I'm not sure this book is appropriate for you... |
That being said...I absolutely hated this book.
So much.
Plot synopsis: Jerry Renault attends Trinity Catholic School where authority is divided between the teachers, and The Vigils, a secret school gang. The school has a chocolate sale coming up and Brother Leon, the acting headmaster, solicits the help of the Vigils to make sure it goes well. But Jerry refuses to sell, trying to find some way to assert his rejection of the tyrannical mob rule and cruelty he sees in the school. Jerry's refusal sparks a mild rebellion amongst the student body and the chocolate sale is lagging terribly. But when the Vigils do get behind the sale, suddenly it takes off. Whether or not they are legitimate results, every student but Jerry is credited with achieving their sales goals. Jerry becomes the focus of a vicious mental and physical campaign of intimidation. After suffering a group beating, Jerry's frustration and anger come to a boil so that he can be tricked into an unfair public fight with a bully. Jerry ends up getting beaten within an inch of his life. His jaw and ribs are broken and he is unconscious, taken away in an ambulance. Archie, the architect of this all, appears to be on the verge of punishment until Brother Leon shows up and waves it all away with a "boys will be boys" philosophy.
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| It's all fun and games till someone breaks their jaw and has to get it wired... |
I finished reading this book at 3:30 am this morning and as I closed the back cover I felt an unfamiliar sensation. For the first time in a very long time I felt legitimately angry. I mean, like....anger! Those of you who know me know I don't really get angry. I get frustrated and annoyed and anti social but not really angry. As it turns out, one of the very very few things that make me angry is...can you guess from the title of this post? Books! The last time I was angry like this was after reading the introduction to Chuck Palahniuk's Fight Club (I didn't make it past the introduction because it made me so angry). And before that it was on the train from Paris to London as I read Tess of the D'Ubervilles and fought the urge to hurl it across the car and brain some innocent bystander...er...sitter.
I was so angry that I couldn't sleep. I pulled my phone out and typed an angry ranty email to my friend as the only vent I had to my feelings.
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| Because how can this not be therapeutic? (Also, this picture came from this tumblr: http://www.flickr.com/photos/wagerber/3068239625/sizes/m/in/photostream/ ) |
So I was angry, you get it. Why was I so angry?
Do you remember how a lot of people said they didn't like The Dark Knight because it was just "too dark for me"? My response to that was always the same. The Dark Knight had to be dark a.) because it's in the name and b.) because there must be dark to see the light. The reason I rank that movie as one of the best films of all time (for seriousness, I do) is because it makes the argument that People, as a whole, are good. This is an argument that seems to be out of vogue these days, which makes me sad. Hence I am so in love with The Dark Knight. What? People are good? They won't just...kill everyone else to save themselves? How refreshing!
Contrast that with Cormier's story. At it's most reduced, basic level, Cormier has written the story of how all people are either vicious, remorseless, cruel bullies, or they're cowards who let the bullies have their way.
And that is what makes me angry: the presumption of any man on earth to imply such a degenerate image of mankind. I find that it...offends me to read such a picture of humanity. Don't misunderstand me--I am well aware of the horrifically long history our species has for cruelty. But I am also aware that in every single account of depravity there will be stories of compassion and fellowship. If humans have the ability to appall each other with their cruelty, surely they also have the ability to astound us with their nobility and love?
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| cliche but applicable... |
I guess what made me so angry was the way the book seemed to have given up on goodness. None of the characters felt any remorse for their actions or even appeared to have any awareness that they had behaved incorrectly. I do believe that all people have an inherent goodness in them--we Mormons call it the Inner Light of Christ, but you can call it whatever you want. It boils down to a conscience. The ability to know that good is good and evil is evil (evil, as distinct from "badness" which is open to interpretation). I reject the idea that goodness doesn't exist and that people, if left unchecked, will devolve into depravity. I stand up for goodness.
