Feeling Sorry for Celia

I guess I’m not the only one who really enjoys novels that unfold through letters and other personal documents, because Jaclyn Moriarty’s Feeling Sorry for Celia (2001) is still flying off the shelves. Told entirely through letters, post-its, memos, anonymous love notes, faxes, and other bits of written communication to & from 15-year-old Elizabeth Carry, Feeling Sorry for Celia is a wonderful, funny coming-of-age story.

The details about Elizabeth’s life jostle for position like unruly puzzle pieces as we read messages from her Mom (always at work), her Dad (gone since she was a baby, now back in town and wanting way too much attention), her new penpal (Christina, a breath of fresh air from the wrong side of the tracks), her almost-boyfriend (and fellow long distance runner, Saxon), her secret admirer (let’s keep it a secret...), and, of course, her best friend, Celia.

Celia is a fairly unusual girl:

So anyway I really only have one friend here, that's Celia, and I promise you she is most DEFINITELY not a nice private school girl. She's kind of weird actually. She's always getting into trouble because she gets bored really really easily So she always wants to try something new, like shaving her head or chopping down a tree or taking apart the kitchen so she can put it back together (she did that to my kitchen actually, and it took us six months to reconnect the dishwasher).

My mum says it's because Celia has an attention span the size of a sesame seed.

Celia's mum says it's because Celia's identity is unfurling itself slowly, like a tulip bud, and it's a breathtakingly beautiful thing to see.

At the start of the book, Celia has run away to join the circus, where she is training to be a tightrope walker. Elizabeth and Saxon “rescue” her, and before we know it, Celia and Saxon are dating.

Uh oh. With her best friend dating the guy she has a crush on, Elizabeth is ready to branch out. Things happen, lives change, secrets are revealed, and, courtesy of Moriarty’s letter-by-letter style, we have a front row seat to what each character is up to.

My favorite letters are the imaginary ones: the earnest, hilarious exhortations to Elizabeth from Elizabeth, written by the likes of The Cold Hard Truth Association, The Best Friends Club, The Association of Teenagers, The Society of High School Runners Who Aren't Very Good at Long-Distance Running but Would Be if They Just Trained, etc.

Dear Ms. Clarry,

It is with great pleasure that we invite you to join our Society.

We have just found out about your holiday. It's so impressive! You had four assignments, an English essay, and a chapter of math to do. And you didn't do one single piece of homework!

Fabulous!

Also, we have a feeling that you have a history test today. And you're trying to study now? On the bus? With the Brookfield boys climbing onto each other's shoulders to get to the emergency roof exit? And with Celia about to get on the bus at any moment? And you think that's going to make a difference!!!

That's really very amusing, Elizabeth. We like you for it.

You're perfect for our Society and we're very excited about having you join.

The Society of People Who Are Definitely Going to Fail High School

Feeling Sorry for Celia is great stuff. Try it, if you haven’t. Tell us about it, if you have.

P.S. There are a lot of novels written in this format (aka epistolary novels), including Dracula, The Screwtape Letters, The Color Purple, The Boy Next Door, The Secret Diary of Adrian Mole, Age 13 3/4, and among my very faves, The Confessions of a Shopaholic.

Parrotfish

Between Thanksgiving and Christmas of her junior year in high school, Angela McNair made some changes. Not just her hairstyle. Not just the sort of clothes she wore. Not just the people she hung around with. And not just her name. Nope, Angie changed way more than that. She changed her outside to match her inside: she changed her sexual identity. Sort of like the parrot fish.

Parrotfish, by Christine Wittlinger, has been on the shelf since last September. Well, not really on the shelf very much; it’s the number one most-taken-out new novel of the 2007/2008 school year -- beating out Bloodline, Life As We Knew It, and The Secret Hour by just 1 circulation. In a story all about family, and self, and coming of age, Wittlinger takes us on a rare journey through the early experiences of a female to male transsexual teen.

Angie tells her family first. Her Dad, with whom she has always done lots of guy stuff, is pretty zen. Her sister, Laurie, is mad and mortified. Her brother, Charlie, hardly looks up from his video games. Her Mom is absolutely stunned, and can’t even really look Angie in the eye. Angela, daughter and sister, is now Grady, son and brother.

When Grady goes back to school after Thanksgiving, he finds out pretty quickly that his spot in the pecking order has changed. He encounters equal opportunity harassment, from male and female alike. Some of his teachers can deal, and some cannot. People he never knew very well treat him better than most of his old friends. “ ‘Angela was my friend, but I don’t know who Grady is! I’m sorry, but I can’t call you that in front of people. I can’t be a part of this whole thing. It’s just too bizarre.’ "

In this novel, we spend a month in Grady’s head, silent observers as he grapples with the realities of his identity change. There are bad times, but nothing unspeakable. There are good times, but nothing ecstatic. There are a lot of uncomfortable, in the middle times. And there are the no-longer-mundane details associated with living a male life in a female body: where to go to the bathroom, changing before and after gym class, etc. Not to mention the complications of falling in love. And parts of Parrotfish are pretty funny. The wildly excessive Christmas prep at the McNair household and Grady’s wry inner monologs (“Does a Hamlet fish carry around a skull and ponder suicide?”) come to mind.

If you haven’t read Parrotfish, I have carefully not told you how everything comes out. If you have, why not take a minute to comment and tell us what you thought of it?

Katie.com

Katie.com burst on the reading scene in 2000, just as national concern over child safety on the internet reached critical mass; since then it has remained a popular read here at HHS. In an emotional memoir of her experiences with an internet predator, 17-year-old Katherine Tarbox plunges us into the world of her 14-year-old self: wealthy and talented, lonely and naive.

So how does an 8th grader from upscale New Canaan, CT, an athlete competing at the national level, and a concert pianist, end up in a Dallas hotel room with a middle-aged groper? Easy. She falls in love.

How VALLLEYGUY met ATARBOX, paid attention to her and encouraged her in the face of troubles at home and at school, makes up the first part of the book. In what seems like no time at all, we are in that Dallas hotel, wondering just how badly Katie will be hurt.

More damage is done when Katie resumes her life in New Canaan. Her mother is wildly angry. Her step-father thinks she ruined VALLLEYGUY’s life. The folks in town who don’t think she’s a slut think she’s crazy. There’s a trial. And Katie blames herself: “I needed to say that I was guilty, maybe even as guilty as the man who was going to jail for our relationship.” Relationship.... Yikes.

Katie.com is a cautionary tale on many levels, perhaps the least of which is the threat of internet stalking. I take the “blame the victim” mentality exemplified in the second half of the book to represent the greater danger. Do you?

The Wee Free Men

OK, I promised you an occasional reading rave, so buckle up: here’s rave #1.

Terry Pratchett’s 30th Discworld novel, The Wee Free Men, is at the top of my list for the 2006/2007 reading season. Yes, there were other titles I particularly enjoyed -- The Glass Castle, The Book Thief, All Over Creation, Eventide -- but The Wee Free Men really left an impression.

How could it not? There’s 9-year-old Tiffany Aching, of Home Farm, The Chalk, who clobbers a big green water monster with a frying pan. And there’s her horrid, sticky little brother, Wentworth, whose constant cries of “Wanna wanna wanna sweetie!” perhaps explain why Tiffany used him as bait for Jenny Green-Teeth, but do not explain why he gets kidnapped by the Queen of Faerie.

There are the Wee Free Men, masterful brawlers, theivers, and drinkers, blue with tattoos, red-headed, and 6” tall, who’ve come down to The Chalk looking for the new witch. And wasn’t the old witch Tiffany’s Granny? And doesn’t it begin to look like Tiffany herself will be called upon to save Wentworth, the Baron’s son, and the Chalk Hills from the clutches of the evil Queen? Crivens! There are Grimhounds, Nightmares, and Headless Horsemen, a Queen who steals your dreams and traps you in them, and a creeping iciness devouring The Chalk. Will Tiffany, armed only with frying pan, common sense, and steely determination, be able to put things right?.

I guess it’s because I enjoy both fantasy and word play that I am besotted with The Wee Free Men. Tiffany’s tutor in the witchly arts is Perspecatia Tick. Miss Tick gives her a talking toad (he used to be a lawyer) and advises Tiffany to pay attention to her first sight and her second thoughts. The Wee Free Men, aka the Nac Mac Feegle, Pictsies, or “person or persons unknown, believed to be armed” sport delicious names, like Rob Anybody, No’-As-Big-As-Medium-Sized-Jock-But-Bigger-Than-Wee-Jock-Jock, and Daft Willie. And what do those ferocious Feegles shout when things are going badly? “Waily, waily, waily!” of course. Too funny.

If you haven't read Terry Pratchett, I recommend starting with The Wee Free Men. If you like it, there are two more in the series (s0 far): A Hat Full of Sky, and Wintersmith. Yum!

The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants

There may be a few teenage girls in the USA who haven’t read Ann Brashares' 2001 novel, The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants, in which case, I’d better plug it now. Happy readers have worn out several copies from our library; the net is thoroughly populated with Sisterhood sites (including the Wikipedia article, Sisterhood Central, and a great author Q&A from Random House); and there was even a movie back in 2005.

The recap: four 15 year old best friends (Carmen, Lena, Bridget & Tibby) prepare to spend a first-ever summer apart. They’ve been together forever, and while they mostly look forward to spending time in South Carolina, Greece, Baja California, or (poor Tibby) right at home in Bethesda, Maryland, they also know how terribly they will miss each other.

These are no cookie-cutter friends: they have wildly different interests, personalities, backgrounds and body types. So it’s pretty weird when a pair of $3.49 thrift shop jeans fits all of them perfectly, making each one feel confident, sexy, and powerful . “These are magic pants!” And magic pants must be shared so that each girl will have the pants for one week, and then send them on in rotation, giving everyone two weeks of the magic by summer’s end.

Each girl’s summer story then unfolds, intertwined with the schedule of the traveling pants. Fear, happiness, anger, love, jealousy, suspense, grief -- it’s all there, and then some, as we experience not one, but four summertime comings-of-age.

Ann Brashares’ captivating first novel has something to offer almost any girl on the planet. The writing is witty and true to life; the characters are so well drawn you feel like you’ve known them for years; and each girl’s summer story is a page-turner in its own right. Like the movie trailer says, “Laugh. Cry. Share the pants.”

If you liked The Sisterhood of the Traveling Pants as much as I did -- or if you really didn’t -- please say so. (My favorite character was Tibby; who was yours?)