Shine, Coconut Moon-- Neesha Meminger

This is one of those books I wanted to like, probably had too high of expectations for, and was subsequently disappointed by.

After 9/11, Samar's uncle Sandeep shows up on her doorstep with a desire to reconnect. Samar was raised by her mother, who has not spoken to her family for years. What follows is an identity-fest: Samar wants to know her family, her Sikh roots, and who her friends really are. It's also got all the post-9/11 themes: hate crimes and discrimination, special registration and other policies, and acting as an ambassador for your religion/ nationality/ ethnicity. At the same time, we have token treatment of how parents raise their kids differently, teen dating violence, and personal identity.

In subject matter, I think it takes on a lot of weighty themes but can't quite carry them all. That said, the book takes an approach on a few things that I really respect: discussing proximity to hate crime, linking the targeting of Sikhs and Muslims, and exploring latent racism.

I wouldn't describe the book as "literary." It's a quick, chatty read with little distinction in its narration, dialogue, or characters. It strikes me as easily dated, as it mentionins specific websites, songs, and movies-- readers who may have appreciated those references are perhaps a little old now to be reading this book. I'm still looking for the perfect post-9/11 book, but perhaps this will do it for some young readers.

A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts-- Ying Chang Compestine

I succumbed to A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts for its unique exploration of historical and contemporary China and eerie supernatural theme. It seems sort of wrongly creepy to also have recipes in the book, but at the same time a fitting tribute to the traditional Chinese means of feeding of those who return from the afterlife.

From Compestine's interview in the San Francisco Gate:

"When I was growing up during the Cultural Revolution, I would fantasize that ghosts would eat up all the kids who picked on me at school and the people who put my father in jail," she recalls. "I wished a ghost would take revenge on them, that there was this invisible power that could come and help me. Then one night last year, I read a story about mistreated mental patients in China, and I thought, who would help them? Then I thought: the ghosts, naturally."

The stories are brief with unexpected developments (and this coming from someone who was OBSESSED with traditional ghost stories as a kid), touching on everything from the building of the Great Wall and the politics of powerful families, to organ donation and corruption in monasteries.

The endnotes at the end of each story give a nice context, adding a bit of substance to what is otherwise just ghosty fun. I won't lie, the recipes make for a weird fusion (e.g. one of the tofu recipes comes a story about a lobotomizing surgeon eating live monkey brains), but it's a great way to present these themes to reluctant readers in small, ahem... bites.

(Also, the pictures are very scary!)

Voices-- Ursula K. Le Guin

People, this blog project is so cool in that it's inspired so many conversations with friends (old and new), and resulted in so many interesting recommendations. About 20 minutes after meeting K, who does a stint at this neat place, we had an animated conversation about young adult novels and she sent me home with some books and a list. K, you are awesome!

Voices represents my first project foray into fantasy. I have never been much of a fantasy reader, but Le Guin is much-heralded in the literary field and in my homeland (the beautiful Pacific Northwest), so it was a fitting choice. The work is interwoven with the politics of oppression, the preservation of culture, and the power of storytelling-- all very compelling.

The second book in the Annals of the Western Shore series is narrated by Memer, a "siege brat" and orphan who grows up in the care and tutelage of the Waylord. Under Ald occupation, a monotheistic religion is imposed in the city of Ansul and all written literature ordered destroyed, but the Waylord's house has tended alters and a secret library where people have brought their books for safekeeping. Memer struggles with her rage against the occupiers and her destiny as a reader; things come to a head with the arrival of storyteller Orrec and the rebirth of a collective consciousness among the people of Ansul.

I tend to struggle with fantasy, mixing up the fictional names of people and places, and missing important details in magical concepts. Before I realized it, I was in the thick of the plot in Voices-- not fully understanding it, but fully wrapped up in the action. Reviews indicate that it is not necessary to read Gifts (the first book in the series) to appreciate Voices, but perhaps I will in order to deepen my appreciation for the universe Le Guin has created.

Wintergirls-- Laurie Halse Anderson

I was introduced to Laurie Halse Anderson's writing when I read her incredible novel Speak in a college young adult literature class. I recently found Wintergirls at the library, read the back, and lowered the bar because the plot description sounded so overdramatic... but man. Anderson's prose takes no prisoners, and this book does not disappoint.

Lia is a high school senior. She has divorced and distant parents, an eating disorder, and now a dead best friend. She and Cassie knew each other since they were little, and supported each other in everything, including the race to the bottom. Lia and Cassie hadn't spoken to each other in weeks when Lia got a late-night phone call. She turned off her phone, and in the morning she sees that Cassie called her 33 times. By that time, Lia has already learned that Cassie is dead.

Although we can assume why Cassie died, following Lia's thought process is the true horror. Even when she can be honest about the role she played in Cassie's life (revealing of relationships between teenage girls, sorry to say), even when she has moments of clarity about the destructiveness of her anorexia, she cannot normalize her relationship with food or her weight. Anderson offers her reader incredible insight, but this book is not for the faint of heart.

Name Me Nobody-- Lois-Ann Yamanaka

Friend P suggested I read something by Lois-Ann Yamanaka. Thank for leading me to this great book!

I immediately love Emi-Lou. Outcast, overweight, and abandoned by her mother, she has three bright spots in her life, her grandmother and her best friend Yvonne being the two obvious ones. But Emi-Lou is also her own bright spot; over the course of the book, we see her become more compassionate, a better friend, and able to stand up for herself and others.

Emi-Lou and Yvonne are soul sisters-- "wherever Yvonne go, Emi-Lou go too." Together, they join the local softball team; Emi-Lou pushes Yvonne to be the best player she can, and Yvonne pushes Emi-Lou to lose weight. But when Yvonne gets romantically involved with her teammate Babes, Emi-Lou feels her world falling apart-- she wants her best friend to be "normal."

Watching this all play out is so painful. Emi-Lou just doesn't know how to handle Yvonne's relationship with Babes. She gets crap from her aunt Vicky and her classmates about being Yvonne's spurned "femme," accused of being jealous. Meanwhile, Emi-Lou isn't used to her newly-thin body and how people treat her; she continues to "feel fat" and struggle with emotional eating. She has an on-and-off relationship with a guy who cares more about his image than about her, and crushes on a popular jock who tries to use her in every way. It's like a high school horror show. I wanted to scream watching all these bad things happen, the very worst of which is seeing Emi-Lou drive a wedge into her relationship with her best friend.

In the end, the best part for me was the story's three heroines-- tough and forgiving Yvonne, solid-loving Grandma, and an Emi-Lou who emerges from codependency and inadequacy and self-doubt. It's worth all the hurt.

(And, seriously, I cannot overstate the awesomeness of Grandma.)

Bog Child-- Siobhan Dowd

I was eager to read another of Siobhan Dowd's books, as I loved the last one so much. Now I am wishing I hadn't picked this one. This slim book took me forever because I had difficulty coming back to it. I only kept going because there are two interesting things at work here: the book is set in Ireland during the Troubles, and the story attempts to bridge two worlds across a time gap.

Fergus and his uncle Tally are cutting peat when Fergus discovers a body-- apparently that of of a child-- buried in the bog. Fergus has a lot on his mind; his brother is on hunger strike in prison, Mam and Da fight about the strike and about politics. Fergus is trying to pass his A-levels so he can escape Ireland and live his life in peace, but his brother's friend is trying to enlist him to run things past checkpoints. On top of all of that, Fergus now wants to know who the bog child is and how she died, and finds himself falling for one of the young excavators working on the site.

Bog Child was published after Dowd's untimely death in 2007. In stark contrast to London Eye, I found this book rough and disjointed. The most compelling storylines are political-- the hunger strike and Fergus' casual friendship with a Welsh soldier stationed at the border-- but the inherent drama is not handled well, and the other storylines drop off abruptly. I think the flashbacks were the least effective of all. Given how much I liked London Eye, though, I think I might have to read one more of her books this year... stay tuned.

Walk Two Moons-- Sharon Creech

This another book from superstar friend E! E has so many great books, and is a great writer too! You can visit her here.

Walk Two Moons is fascinating in its attempt to articulate the inexplicable decisions of grown-ups. Why would your mother pick up and leave you if she loves you? Why do some parents leave and others come back? How do we recover from loss?

Sal is driving to Lewiston, Idaho with her grandparents. She wants to get there before her mother's birthday, believing that she might be able to bring her mother home. While tracing her mother's path across the country and trying to put herself in her mother's place, Sal tells Gram and Gramps the story of her friend Phoebe. (Phoebe's story is like Sal's, with the exception of a few critical details.) This is a story about learning to see through the hurt and the annoyance to really understand someone else's pain or fear-- profound stuff for a little book.

Walk Two Moons strikes me as very honest. Here, as in life, there are all kinds of love and all kinds of relationships, not all of them easy to navigate or explain. It may have been over my head as a kid, but there are readers who will welcome this book based on personal experience.

The book has plenty of mysterious elements, but they are not bound together; tangents of plot spring all over the place, in unexpected directions. It's not clear what's material to the plot; things just happen right and left. The word choice and narration are colorful and fun; you don't have a sense of where it's headed, but it's fun to be along for the ride.