Review: Labor Day, by Joyce Maynard

When you were a kid, did you ever feel like *nothing* ever happened to you? Like anything, anything at all, would be a huge improvement over the nothingness you are currently experiencing?

Thirteen year-old Henry, the main character of Joyce Maynard's new novel, Labor Day, has felt that way for years. After his parents' divorce, Henry's mother, Adele, transformed into quite nearly a hermit, ordering even basic necessities from catalogues, and Henry's life slowed to an isolated crawl during the summers. Just before school starts, at the beginning of a steamy Labor Day weekend in his small NH town, Henry's life changes when a bleeding man in the local big-box store asks him for help; he needs Henry and Adele to take him to their house. Hours later, sitting in their kitchen, Frank admits to being an escaped prisoner from the local penitentiary, but rather than turn him in, Adele lets him stay, and the two begin a strange and seemingly-fated relationship. Henry also takes strongly to Frank, and the house at the end of the cul-de-sac becomes a strange shangri-la for all three lost souls until Henry runs across a strange new girl in town whose paranoid outlook puts fearful ideas of abandonment in his head. It is then that Henry has to choose - does he save Frank, and his mother's newfound happiness, or does he save his own familiar life?

While the acceptance of a single woman taking a bleeding mad to her home is a bit of a stretch, I was willing to buy into it for two reasons: one, the novel takes place in the mid-80's in a small town, where people would be less paranoid about helping a stranger, and two, the town is in NH, where I grew up, so I can tell you that people tend to keep to themselves and out of other people's business. That Adele wouldn't have asked first what was wrong with Frank isn't all that surprising, particularly 20 years ago.

As long as you can accept Adele's decision, the rest of the book is an easy swallow. Right from the start, the reader roots for the scenario to somehow end well. Aside from a very few moments at the beginning when you wonder what Frank's real personality might be, it is evident that his arrival is a huge turning point for all involved. For his part, Frank almost immediately becomes the man of the house, fixing what's broken in more ways than one. Adele blooms in the newfound attention Frank showers upon her, and Henry comes into his own, out of his shell even when the inevitable occurs.

The characters are quite likable, and easy to identify with. When the stories finally begin to emerge - Adele's tale of guilt and despair that explains her hermit-like ways, and Frank's revelation of the horrifying coincidence that led to his imprisonment - it becomes apparent that the two are, in fact, fated for each other, and it's easy to see why each would be willing to bet everything on each other. Henry's unique situation - young enough to be jealous of his mother's attentions, old enough to be jealous of sexuality in his home, damaged enough to accept even this tragic figure as a father-substitute - is played very well. The young girl he meets, and her strange issues, are a little too conveniently introduced, but her exploitation is necessary to bring about the inevitably approaching storm. The epilogue ties the tale together in a very satisfying way; I was extremely happy with how things turned out, even with the initial heartbreak for all involved.

Rating: four stars: interesting premise, likable characters, heartfelt denouement

Review: Ophelia's Mom, by Nina Shandler

Nina Shandler is the mother of Sara Shandler, the nineteen year-old author of 'Ophelia Speaks', in which teenagers speak out about their lives and relationships with parents, friends, and others; Sara's book was itself a response to the widely popular Reviving Ophelia, a study of teenage girls. Nina Shandler (referred to going forward as simply Shandler) is herself a psychologist, and saw that a piece was missing from the Ophelia puzzle, that of the mothers' perspective on adolescence. Her work, Ophelia's Mom, is subtitled, 'women speak out about loving and letting go of their adolescent daughters', and that is exactly what it is.

Shandler sent out 23,000 fliers both online and on paper for mothers of teenage girls to submit thoughts and be interviewed for her book; she received only 350 responses, far less than her daughter had two years prior from the teenage contingent. Her explanation of this difference is partly that women are more secretive about family strife because they still generally bear the responsibility for running the family, and are humiliated by any perceived failure. Shandler used roughly half the responses she received in the book, but gave no information on how these particular responses were selected for use, or reasons why others would have been rejected. The responses she does use seem very homogeneous, and while I can't be certain whether this indicative of the larger response or a bias in selection of the responses for use, the copy of the invitation she used that is included in the forward could be a clue as to why; it is strongly geared towards a certain type of respondent. The wording of the invite uses fairly elevated diction, assumes that the person reading the flier has read Hamlet or at least has a working knowledge of who Ophelia is, and has either read at least one of the other two 'Ophelia' research works or knows enough about them to understand why this new work is pertinent. Although it attempts to be folksy, it's a fairly formal invitation, and not one that would appeal to very educationally or economically diverse audience.

Still, Shandler doesn't claim to have done a scientific study, merely to have gathered a series of anecdotal tales provided by women who have had experiences in typical, general teenage parenting categories - body image, parent-teen relationships, adult relationships surrounding teen issues, and letting their daughters go to graduation and life. The stories themselves are very absorbing, and swerve between heartwarming and heartbreaking. Walking through adolescence the first time was for many women difficult at best, and going through it a second time, this time as a bystander watching a beloved child struggle, is sometimes torturous. The women's experiences are told with humor and affection, and flow well into one another. Shandler limits herself to writing short personal stories at the beginning of new sections or where appropriate to bridge gaps between others' stories, which is a major bonus to the book; she understands that her role is not to judge failings or extol virtues, but rather to report experiences in the hopes that other women will relate and find comfort in not being alone. She does this very well, and seemingly without holding back her own embarrassment.

I'm not sure about Shandler's claim about women not writing in because they were shy or embarrassed. People not having problems wouldn't have written just to say, 'hey, everything's great over here, thanks for asking', so it's still hard to support her claim. However, as she also says, there is almost nothing out there like this book, stories from mothers about parenting their daughters in adolescence, and the book's true value stems from that. It's a well-written, extremely engaging book that provides insight and, importantly, hindsight into parenting ideas and struggles, particularly for those of us who are teetering on the edge of the adolescent phase for our second time around.

Rating: four stars; Well-written, chatty, touching look into parenting girls through the most difficult part of childhood

Note

Hi There:

For those of you who don't know, I started a 12mo graduate program at the end of May that will give me my master's in education next year. We do two courses a month, so an entire semester in eight four-hour sessions per class. It's pretty intense, and I haven't had much time for anything else, reading-wise. But, I do have a little time off here and there, and there will be other books that I'll be reading for the class that I will be able to post about (such Porcupine, which I just posted, and Ophelia's Mom, which will be up in a few minutes). So, it may get a little sparse around here from time to time, but I haven't abandoned it! :)

Astarte

Review: How To Hug a Porcupine: Negotiating the Prickly Points of the Tween Years, by Julie A. Ross, M.A.

In Porcupine, Ross discusses several ways to approach common problems of adolescent behavior and its effects on the family. Her primary assertion is that parents should take a ‘relationship’ approach, because at this stage they will no longer be able to physically control him or her, and must now rely on the quality of the relationship they have with the child to provide the basis for all interaction. Parents must understand that hormones and social changes make the tween years especially sensitive, and to control their reflexive responses of anger, worry and overprotection and work towards interactions that are less reflexive and more constructive. In order to foster open communication, parents should have family meetings, avoid blocking children’s expressions via unhelpful emotional reactions or overhelping (problem solving) that displays a lack of trust or enables childish behavior. It is vital for a parent to be engaged in the child’s interests in order to have a basis for a solid relationship. Finally, a child’s self-esteem should be fostered with encouragement of the effort used rather than generic praise of an outcome, such as praising hard work rather than an easily-won good grade.

Although they were obviously fictitious, the ‘personal stories’ are helpful because they break up the advice sections and give examples of behavior in a non-clinical manner. The writing is very accessible to the average person, and doesn’t require any particular knowledge of psychology. Particularly for the less well-read parent, many of the ideas and concepts may be fairly new or different from what they have experienced or tried in the past.

While the author includes many examples of different ‘brands’ of bad behavior – defiance, moral ambiguity, slacking off at home and school – many of the examples seem much the same, just with a slightly different twist. In the ‘coffee group’ the author has created, only mothers participate, which I found to be disappointing, because that implies that only women are expected to be involved in parenting. In fact, in several examples, the father is another drag in the mother’s life, by either being non-supportive or downright blaming the mother for the child’s behavior. That seemed strangely behind the times for a book that dictates such new-age parenting. My main complaint, though, is that the author exemplifies tolerance for all but the most extreme mouthing off, which I find completely untenable; she preaches respect for the child, but yet doesn’t demand it for the parent.

Ross makes several useful points that seem obvious, but in the heat of the moment may get thrown by the wayside: self-esteem has to come from the inside; children need to be allowed to learn on their own and deal with the consequences of their actions; parents should act interested in their children’s activities even if they’re not so they can be aware and involved in their child’s life. Core nuggets of advice like these are highlighted by separate placement and font from the rest of the writing, making a skim-through easy for those looking for particular sections or a simple refresher.

Rating: 3.5 stars: a decent starting place for basic challenges of tweenage parenting problems