Review Once Was Lost

All I could think about every time I considered Sara Zarr's Once Was Lost was the completion of the line with 'but now am found.' That title set up an expectation that her book never quite fulfilled but hinted at. Maybe there will be a sequel with that title. Nonetheless, the book didn't leave me at all dissatisfied for not having fulfilled the "being found" part, because the book left me with the distinct impression that Sam could find her her way, whatever it might be, wherever it might take her.

The book is about young teenage Samara Taylor --- Sam --- during a time that she justifiably felt lost. Her mother is an alcoholic who is committed to a rehab facility. Sam misses her mother. Sam's father is a pastor who in some ways acts very pastorally and in other ways seems and is just as incapacitated and irresponsible as his committed wife, maybe even more so. On top of all of that, there is a crisis of major proportions in the community --- a young teenage girl goes missing --- that impacts Sam and her father, the pastor, and everybody else. This mystery also propels the story forward.

Zarr's writing is subtle and sensitive. I was very impressed with her ability to create believable and realistic characters that weren't extreme or caricatures.

I am a sixty-one-year-old man who doesn't typically read in this genre or books written for this audience. Yet I didn't feel lost or like an alien reading the story and learning to better understand the mindset of its young female protagonist teenager.

Great job, Sara Zarr.

Matt Kirby recommended this book. His first published book, The Clockwork Three, will be released October 1, 2010.

Making Expression Less Taxing: A Freelancer's Tax Resource

The Knowledge to Give

Lowry scores my highest mark for THE GIVER: a capital A for AWESOME.

THE GIVER appeals to my deepest being, going into emotional depths where I'm most aware, where I experience anger, sadness, and fear but also enjoyment, surprise, and love. Not only that but it stimulates and informs my intellect. It is such a gut-wrenching but ultimately happy story. It makes me --- at sixty-one --- feel like a boy again, a boy who thinks he can make the impossible possible, who might be able to help a dulled humanity feel more fully again. I believe all of existence waxes and wanes, ebbs and flows, evolves and devolves with a slow but ever-present upward spiral. This story addresses one community's wane, its ebb, its devolution. Jonas, as a member of that community, is selected to spend his time learning about his community's state of affairs. Then, as the story climaxes, he makes his choice and acts.

Overall, Jonas is a "chosen" hero --- not unlike one chosen in natural selection --- who's unafraid to explore every facet of being, to admit not just the sensory input, but to experience emotionally as well as intellectually. He's brave enough, in the end, to try to escape the constraints of knowledge and experience that have crept into his community of origin. Such perversions are no less ugly than those of Nazism or those characterized in the great literature of the past--the stories of Bradbury, Huxley, and Orwell and others. This story informs those. Here we have a boy who wants to progress on to a new and better life, not just for himself but for the sake of his entire community. He wants them to have it too. He is willing to risk his life for it. For me, this is the purpose of literature, of life. It is man's highest virtue. To do good; to help others. As the boy in Carmac McCarthy's THE ROAD asks, "Are we still the good guys?"

The story makes it clear --- as do all great stories --- that morality comes by experiencing choices tending toward either good or evil and in having the courage to choose that which trends toward good or otherwise suffering tragedy. Jonas isn't ever over-inflated with pride. He retains humility in learning, eventually hoping for a culture beyond his limiting one.

Critics suggest the book's climax presents "a symbolic faux-death event", as if that would somehow be a bad thing. But I don't read it that way at all. Its literal language doesn't so read. Two children literally coast into a more abundant realm, still alive, still aware. Ready to receive and to give.

Further, critics complain that Lowery fails with THE GIVER because Jonas's community isn't based upon a real world of its author, as if a symbolic or hyperbolic one of the imagination is flawed, or somehow a weakness. To the contrary, in the progress of mankind, imagination becomes truth. Or, as in the fanciful words of Ursula LeGuin's character, Genley Ai, truth is a matter of the imagination. What is ultimately in the realm of mankind is what was first imagined well and then subjected to free agents who acted upon it for good.

THE GIVER presents a degenerated human power structure. How or why it has degenerated is not important in its overall scheme. It kills people, the ultimate evil. " . . . twins are being born tomorrow, and the test results show that there are identical." "One for here, one for Elsewhere . . ." This is not ambiguous. It's not an issue of unborn or near dead. It is out and out, clear-cut, calculated murder. It's Bergen-Belsen, Dachau, and Auschwitz, but on a more massive scale.

At the same time, the human power structure that has chosen wickedness ironically chooses Jonas as the Receiver. There are two things Jonas has that are vital. The first is his ability to choose freely. Everyone has that. All his contemporizes have it and utilize it. The other is knowledge and experience. It is this later that the others are lacking in great measure.

There is no magic in THE GIVER, no smoke and mirrors as some have suggested, but only the issues of knowledge and choice. Every child is born with the ability to choose. Not every child lives with the ability to get the necessary knowledge and experience required to choose well. It seems that to do so, to some degree, we have to be "chosen," and then, even then, we have to choose to Receive it. But ultimately, what is most important, after all is said and done, is to choose to be a giver.

THE GIVER.

Read Return to Sender

Julia Alvarez in Return to Sender knows how to characterize the blur in the line between right and wrong. She knows how to make it clear that reality and morality are continuums and not dichotomies of this or that, up or down, or yes or no. There are no absolutes. (Now, there's an oxymoron.) We have a long way to go. 

Alvarez begins with a young man, her protagonist, Tyler, the younger eleven-year-old son in a family who has survived and thrived by running a dairy farm in Vermont. The family's farming heritage is at risk. Tyler's older brother is away at college, mostly unavailable to help out on the farm without jeopardizing his education and eventual career, and Tyler's father has been injured and disabled, perhaps permanently, in a farming accident. Tyler's father can't do the work he normally did. It is unclear when and if he ever will be able to do the work again. Extended family also can't adequately help out. So paying the bills and keeping the farm is at risk. The family needs help or to change their dynamics: selling the farm, moving from their land, doing something entirely different than farming.
 

Tyler's parents eventually hire undocumented immigrants --- a couple of men --- to assist with the dairy work. One of the immigrant men is married and has three daughters. The oldest, Mari, slowly becomes Tyler's friend and ally, an unfolding as miraculous as springtime. Mari's mother has disappeared in the murky criminal element that arose to fulfill the void created by ambiguities in United States immigrant policies, underfunded policies that for years tacitly approved of undocumented immigrants coming to the United States to work in jobs that citizens in better times didn't want to do.
 

The analysis of various notions is tenderly at play in Alvarez's book:

• What is a family?
  
• What does it mean to be honest?
  
• What good is it to have a law without compassion, or without implementing it and adequately funding its substantial enforcement?
  
• What does it mean to be a good neighbor and a friend? What sacrifices are appropriate and necessary of good neighbors and friends? And does all of that that apply only to individuals and not to communities and to nations?
  
• What is charity? Is it a weakness or strength?
  
• What about religion and the mystical, and gazing into the heavens? Hope?
  

 

"... life is about change, change, and more change. 'When you're born as a child, you die as a baby. Just like when you're born as a teenager, you die as a child.'... 'But there are good sides even to bad or sad things happening,' my mom reminds me...."
 

This is a coming of age adventure where a boy and a girl have more love and compassion than the men and the women, where a couple of families have greater diplomacy toward each other than the greatest nations on earth do. So it would be good to take their advice and look into the heavens and contemplate the beauty of the night before flying apart.
 

Not just one star but five.