The Tale of One Bad Rat...random thoughts

The Tale of One Bad Rat by Bryan Talbot.

There are times when I am rendered speechless by an author's ability to tell a tale so effectively. And there are times when I am rendered speechless by the sheer magnitude of the tale being told. This book hit me on both accounts. It is the story of a teenage girl. A girl who has suffered abuse at the hands of her father for years. A girl who runs away from home to escape the abuse. Helen's story, while fictional, plays itself out countless times in the real world. I sometimes felt nearly suffocated by the pain...because I knew that as I read this story there were thousands upon thousands upon thousands of flesh-and-blood Helens hurting at that very moment. Having said that, it may now seem odd to say, but this book was truly a book of hope. Of healing. Helen's abuse was shown in flashbacks during her journey forward to a new life. This journey forward wasn't an easy one for Helen, as I imagine no journey out of pain ever is.

Since I am so inadequate in my ability to share my thoughts, let me just share some words of others...

"This book is a gift to humanity." (Chris at Stuff As Dreams Are Made On)

"There are many ways to fight child abuse and incest. The important thing is not how you do it, but that you do it, and The Tale of One Bad Rat does it." (Andrew Vachss, from the book cover)

"What Helen went through is expressed in a subtle but absolutely clear way. Most of all, it’s her emotions that are addressed. This is not a book that tries to simplify things. We get the whole thing – all the difficult and contradictory feelings..." (Nymeth at Things Mean A Lot)

"...the book is one that stays with you..." (Dewey at The Hidden Side of a Leaf

"So, yes, there's more than one layer to appreciate..." (Valentina at Valentina's Room

"The more child abuse is discussed in society or fiction in whatever medium, the more likely it is that the victims will realise that it is something that happens all the time, that they can speak out, be believed, and get it stopped." (Bryan Talbot)

...I never saw another butterfly... (random thoughts)

...I never saw another butterfly...: Children's Drawings and Poems from Terezin Concentration Camp, 1942-1944 (expanded second edition with foreword by Chaim Potok).

I've been trying to stay off the computer for a few days to get some work done, but this book is due back at the library today, and I just had to say a little something about it. It's a beautiful book. It's a powerful book. It's a book that will rip the heart right from your chest.

The subtitle of the book describes the contents of this book. But there is also a foreword that tells of the history of Terezin, a walled fortress town built in the late 1700s in the hills outside of Prague. It eventually became a civilian town and housed about 8,000 people. In October of 1941, the Nazis took over Terezin and renamed it Theresienstadt. The ghetto of Terezin become a stop along the way toward their death for many Jews. For many it was the place of their death. There is no way to put a pretty face on the conditions of Terezin, and yet that is exactly what the Nazis tried to do. They used Terezin as a model to show off to the world. In 1944, they went on a rapid "beautification" campaign and tried to put a pretty face on the ghetto for a Red Cross inspection visit. They also shot a propaganda film at this time.

But the truth was entirely different. People died of starvation and disease on a continuous basis. They were beaten and deprived of the basic necessities. But the Jews who had been sent there fought back in their own secretive ways, including by secretly teaching art to the children. The drawings and poems featured in this book are but a few of the pieces that have been saved and housed in the State Jewish Museum in Prague.

The art is incredibly moving. There are pencil drawings and paintings and collages. The materials used were whatever they could find, including a great deal of office forms. A few of the poems contain an innocence that is every bit as heart-breaking as the poems full of pain. Chaim Potok writes in the foreword:

And the children--did they know that death lay waiting for them, too? It is probable that many of them did, in the way that children get to know things, by tunneling beneath adult deceits and repressions and coming upon truths they sense with animal keenness, truths that fuel their darkest terrors.

The book contains a catalog of the poems and a catalog of the artwork. Whatever biographical information that could be found on these children artists is included. Often just their date of birth, the date they were transported to Terezin, and the date they were transported from Terezin to Auschwitz. Far too many of these miniature biographies end with a variation of "She was sent to Auschwitz on May 18, 1944, where she perished." In fact, of the 15,000 children sent to Terezin, fewer than 100 survived the war.

bits of babble

Perpetually behind. I have no plans of being buried and having a headstone, but if I were, I think those might be the words I'd choose for it. ;) Anyway, I figured that I ought to try to catch up a little bit on my babbling before the read-a-thon. You know, because after the read-a-thon, I'll have an enormous new pile of books to babble about. Hahahahahahahahahahaha. Yeah, two does not qualify as an enormous pile, does it? This does make a nice diversion from cleaning the bathroom though.

Fax From Sarajevo: A Story of Survival by Joe Kubert.

While very different in so many ways, it is hard not be think of Art Speigelman's Maus when reading this book. For both chronicle the story of a family struggling to survive in the midst of atrocity. Both families the target of genocidal monsters, not because of anything they've done but simply because they exist. The books are actually quite different though. Both visually, and in the manner the stories are told.

Joe Kubert had long been friends with Ervin Rustemagic and his family, having first met decades ago at a European Cartoonists' Convention. During the 18-months his family is trapped in Sarajevo, Ervin finds his lifeline to the world outside through a fax machine. Joe and a few of Ervin's other friends from around the world read Ervin's story as it unfolds through these faxes. And they fight desperately through any means they can think of to rescue the Rustemagic family from the hell in which they are imprisoned.

The book tells their story through a variety of ways, through the faxes, through the art and words of the graphic novel story, through photos taken both before and during the siege, and through a chapter by chapter narrative included at the end of the book. This is both a personal family story, and the story of a city, a nation, a people caught in a web of human cruelty. Victims of ethnic cleansing. Are there any two uglier words in the English language than "ethnic cleansing"? I don't know, but perhaps "apathy" ranks right up there.

The Dead & the Gone by Susan Beth Pfeffer.

For a while, I wasn't actually sure if I wanted to read this book. Not because I didn't like the companion novel, Life As We Knew It, but because I liked it so much. I guess I was sort of leery about how Pfeffer could tell another story about 'the same event' and make it equally compelling. Well, she did! While the catalyst for devastation (an asteroid striking the moon and knocking it into a closer orbit to Earth) and the devastating events happening around the world are the same in each novel, the stories told in the books are most definitely not. And when I now stop and think about it, I realize there could be millions of stories written and none would be the same. Pfeffer did a wonderful job in both of these novels at making the stories feel real, feel authentic. In Life As We Knew It, we witnessed the survival of Miranda, a teenage girl in small town America; in The Dead & the Gone, we witness an entirely new set of struggles through the eyes of Alex, a teenage boy in New York City. Alex's parents are lost on the first night, and he is left to keep his two younger sisters safe. It's a story of family. A story of survival. A story of faith. A story of growth. It's terrifying, horrifying, emotional, and definitely hard to put down. And yes, not surprisingly, it had me blubbering like an idiot.

The Sandman: Season of Mists by Neil Gaiman.

We begin with a family reunion of sorts. Destiny calls the Endless together so that events might take their proper course. Said events include Dream's return to hell to release his former love Nada, Lucifer's abandonment of hell, gods and demons visiting the Heart of the Dreaming to beg, threaten, and bribe...and so much more. All of this is told with such depth and intelligence that I again found myself in awe of Mr. Gaiman. I also found myself wishing that I had a little more of that depth and intelligence, because I'm sure there was even more to be gleaned from the book if I had had the insight.

I will be saddened when I reach the end of this series. And yet I'll be ever-so-happy as well, because I can then start it all over again. (And I somehow have this feeling that I may just enjoy it even more on the second time around. Though at the same time that seems impossible...how could I possibly enjoy it more?)

George & Sam: Two Boys, One Family, and Autism by Charlotte Moore.

This is one of those books I read because of Nick Hornby and those wonderful columns he wrote for The Believer. In his foreword to this book, Mr. Hornby guesses that the majority of people reading it have been in some way been touched by autism. That would be true of me; there is autism in our family, but I won't go into that for reasons of privacy. I'm not sure if that's the reason why I picked up this book. But I can say that I thoroughly enjoyed it, and would recommend it to anyone whether personally touched by autism or not.

Charlotte Moore is the mother of three sons, George, Sam, and Jake. George and Sam are autistic; Jake is not. Charlotte Moore is wonderfully engaging and intelligent. She's amazing. And I think part of why she's so amazing is that she probably doesn't see herself as so. It's hard not to try to imagine myself in her shoes...but when I did, I found myself horribly lacking. I think what I admired most, marveled at most, was her adaptability. She's forthright, honest even when it might be easier not to be. Most of all, she not only loves her children for who they are, she accepts and respects them for who they are. Maybe that sounds obviously simple. But face it, there are many parents who can't seem to manage that even without the challenges of autism in a family.

And while Moore definitely talks about the sometimes nearly overwhelming challenges, she also speaks of the joys. Moore discusses the scientific theories and whatnot, but she focuses very much on her own personal family story. And she speaks a great deal about the conclusions she's reached about various pieces of this vast autism puzzle. What she has to say is very illuminating. I can't tell you how much I enjoyed "getting to know" her wonderful sons. And I truly learned a great deal from this book.

There is just one small thing I want to mention, however. And it's not a criticism of the book. In fact, it doesn't have much to do with the book, except for the fact that it at one point raised these concerns in my head, concerns that I've dealt with many times. Moore is telling her story. She never says "this is exactly how it is for every person with autism." And I think it's important to remember that. In fact, she shares how very different George and Sam are from one another. But she does often compare their behavior to that of Jake, using Jake as the example of a neurotypical child who reaches all the milestones at the correct times, etc. And it was here that I wanted to say, "But just because your baby/child doesn't fit all these so-called "normal" standards, it doesn't mean that he has autism." And you know, I know that Moore knows that...as I said it's her family's story. The reason it even struck me was because as an infant, Gray was much more like her son George than he was like her son Jake. And Gray is not autistic. However, he has had other neurological problems, with seizures. And definite sensory issues. Maybe that's why there's this overlap. I don't know. My point being, that yes, I do understand why in watching a child's development it can be important to notice how and when they reach these milestones. It's just that I worry that sometimes people have too narrow a definition of "normal." It can be frustrating and heartbreaking to watch people try to apply a "label" to Gray, simply because he is different. From teachers to friends to relatives, most of whom I am confident were well-intentioned, we've gotten diagnoses ranging from ADHD to Asperger's to bipolar disorder. Our diagnosis, and the one that is supported by his doctors, is that he's Gray.

Oh crap...you know, in a way, I feel tempted to just delete that entire last paragraph. Because I in NO WAY want anyone to think I am minimizing the benefits of diagnosing autism early. Truly I'm not! Okay, how about I just shut up now, and tell you to just go read this book. :)


*****

Other opinions:

Becky at Becky's Book Reviews (The Dead & the Gone)
Chris at Stuff As Dreams Are Made On (The Dead & the Gone)
Jimmy and J.Kaye at J.Kaye's Book Blog (The Dead & the Gone)
Jia at Dear Author (The Dead & the Gone)
NathanKP at Inkweaver Reviews (The Dead & the Gone)
The Reading Zone (The Dead & the Gone)
The Sleepy Reader (The Dead & the Gone)
Fantasy and Sci-Fi Lovin' Book Reviews (The Dead & the Gone)
Heather at Book Addiction (The Dead & the Gone)
Sharon at Shermeree's Musings (The Dead & the Gone)
Book Dweeb (The Dead & the Gone)
Bookshelves of Doom (The Dead & the Gone)
Fyrefly's Book Blog (The Absolute Sandman Vol. 2)
Jenny's Books (Season of Mists)

If you've reviewed one of the above books, and I've missed your review, please feel free to leave my a link in the comments, and I will happily add it to the list. Thanks!