Too Fond of Books

The Book in Question: I Want to Go Home!, by Gordan Korman, Apple Paperbacks, copyright 1981.

What It's About: Rudy Miller is sent to sports summer camp Algonkian Island by his well-meaning parents, but he hates all things camp (namely the forced, supposedly "fun" activities) and spends his time trying to escape with his token friend, Mike Webster, or baiting the clueless counselors and the resident bully, Adam Greene.

What I Remember: In my fifth or sixth grade class, this was THE book that everyone read, even the kids who claimed they weren't into reading. I think our school library had about three copies and they were almost always checked out. There was about a month or so, right at first, when someone read it, and then it got really, really hot, and everyone in the class wanted to read it. The consensus at the time was that it was the funniest book that we all had read.

I remembered some of the sequences in it almost word for word. The first letter that Rudy writes home to his parents before chronically annoying counselor Chip stops him is truly a thing of hilarity: "Dear Mom and Dad... This place is terrible. Each day I am subjected to countless atrocities. ... Our cabin collapsed in a typhoon last night, but don't worry. Only one guy died. It's not all bad. I do have one friend, named Mike. He's the one who pulled me out of the quicksand. ... If this letter looks messy, it's because I'm writing it while being chased by a bear." (23) I also correctly remembered that there was one counselor who was cooler than the others (the arts and crafts one, named Pierre--another sign that this book was Canadian, which I totally missed, see below) and that there was a dance sequence that took place at a girls' camp later on in the story, which provides a kind of ridiculous escape set-up for Rudy and Mike. And the day where Rudy gets to be camp director and creates over-the-top obstacle races for the counselors and a scavenger hunt for the other campers is pretty amazingly funny the second time around, too.

Overall, my feeling back when I first read it was that this book was written by someone who understood what it means to be a kid in a world of adults who aren't listening because they have their own preconceived and unshakable notions of what being a kid is like. The dedication (which I did forget) supports this pretty well: "There's fun, and then there's fun. This book is dedicated to those who know the difference."

Upon Rereading...: I think one of the reasons I liked this so much when I was a kid was that I had a secret fantasy that this book lays out: to be really, mind-bogglingly good at sports, but choose NOT to do them, and have adults clamoring for me to use my talents. Since I was no good at any sport as a kid, to read about someone who was, but didn't feel like doing them... well, that sounded pretty damn awesome. Unfortunately, to me now, it sounds kind of contrived, but OK, fine. It's an interesting plot device, despite its Gary Stu implications. ("'Do you win at everything?"' '"Yes,"' said Rudy sadly." (81))

Reading it now, I'm exceedingly happy that I have no one like Rudy Miller (or Adam Greene) in any of my classes, though.

Anything that completely escaped my notice back then?: This book is Canadian! Seriously, you'd think this would be obvious to any reader, but I had no memory of it whatsoever, and I felt kind of stupid the moment that Toronto and meters got mentioned.

Korman works really hard to create adult characters who aren't evil or cruel, but are simply kind of clueless and oblivious to what they really need to do in order to make their young charges happy. There's an interesting scene between the counselors where half of them want to bully Rudy into playing the sports he's so good at, but hates, and his counselor makes them back down: "The kid comes first. That's what we taught, and that's what I'm going by." (83) Considering all the crap that Rudy's put Chip through at this point, I like that Korman doesn't have him laughing evilly like a vaudeville villain. (In fact, it kind of endeared me to Chip!)

Overall Verdict Now: It's still funny, even though it seems a little dated and parts of the story don't ring quite as true as they did for me when I was kid. I'm really glad I had the chance to reread it!

After swearing to myself that I wouldn't get into Naruto (because the manga is up to Vol. 51; it's hugely popular, and I'm a bit of a snob about that sometimes; because there are several feature films that have nothing to do with the main plot and everything to do with merchandising and making money, etc. etc.) I picked up the manga and read a few chapters and I was hooked. It's an odd experience, made slightly more surreal because I'm simultaneously watching the anime and switching between them when the plot in one gets dull or I run out of volumes from the library. (With the anime, I'm also at the mercy of what's on Netflix instant view, so I'll probably have to stop before Shippuden starts.) A very entertaining experience, of course, but an odd one nonetheless. I keep thinking to myself "I wish this were paced a whole hell of a lot differently!" Also: "Why don't the female characters get more time in the spotlight?!" Both these questions are easily and annoyingly answered: Because it's a shounen manga, and I am not the target audience. Still: when you're juggling *four* important battles occurring in as many separate locations, and decide to parcel each one out, piece by piece in each episode and chapter, it's a bit frustrating. And when you have the main female character decide she's going to start kicking ass and taking names instead of being a hanger-on, it would be nice if you were to continue to have that character development stay developed, instead of evaporating instantly after the need for it has vanished.

Still, for all my complaining, I really do like this manga/anime. It's exciting, and the random ninja powers are very compelling to try and guess before they come into combat. For the most part, the animation company didn't cheap out on the fight sequences (yay!) and the voice-acting is great.

( Further fannish babblery, with spoilers up to Vol. 18 of the manga, ensues. )

Still, for all of my questions and grumblings about pacing, this is satisfying and fun. Despite knowing the resolution for one of the major plot points (thanks a lot, interblag), I'll stick around for the rest, as long as there aren't too many filler episodes along the way.

On the complete opposite side of the spectrum, I read the delightful The Wilder Life: My Adventures in the Lost World of Little House on the Prairie, which made me run to the library to borrow whatever volumes of the Little House books that they had on hand (I ended up with By the Shores of Silver Lake and The Long Winter.) Wendy McClure's book is an excellent introduction to Laura/Little House fandom, and although I loved the books as a child, I cannot see churning butter or making haysticks by hand as McClure ended up doing in an effort to connect further with the material. She chronicles all aspects of Laura-dom, from the fans who are obsessed with the TV show to the slightly creepy church groups who try to live "off the grid" because they think the End Times are upon us. She also traces the geographical locations of the books and pieces together the real chronology of the events in the books, which was slightly altered by Laura and her daughter, Rose, in order to make for a more interesting story. I don't want to give away all the wonderful and juicy details in this book, but if you ever had even a tangential relationship to this series, this book is something you should take a look at.

As I said, reading it made me think back to the ways I loved the books as a child. I could recite the events of some of the books almost perfectly ("And then, Ma slapped the cow to make it go into the barn, but it turned around and looked at her and she saw that it was a BEAR!") and I was privately ecstatic every time Laura was victorious over her rival, Nellie Olsen (whose character turns out to be a composite of three women/girls Laura knew and disliked. Ouch!) I also sympathized with Laura when she didn't want to sit still and sew, like her good older sister, Mary. Actually, what these books really gave me was a sense of perspective. I might get mad with my parents for not letting me buy jelly shoes or take horseback riding lessons, but they didn't expect me to be "seen and not heard" or be entirely quiet on Sundays. I also realized that I had it pretty good; my father was not in danger of freezing to death on the way home from work, and our food supply didn't depend on what he could shoot or harvest. It was sobering, and I was a serious little kid.

On the serious side, though, I was always pretty freaked out at the racist language/action in the books. (McClure, in her book, spends quite a lot of time trying to speak to this, too.) It was mortifying to read about Pa, who was otherwise a smart and dignified character, dressing up in blackface to entertain the townsfolk. It was also pretty sad to read Ma's talk about those "dirty Indian half-breeds." I remember skipping these parts when I was reading the books myself, thinking that I was smarter than that and didn't need to waste my time on such stupidity. (My mother, when she read these aloud to me, must have said something as well, but I cannot remember what it was.) I especially remember being disgusted with Laura as a character and a person when she said she didn't want women to have the right to vote. Now that I read the books again, it's sort of disillusioning. Pa and Ma are not the saintly characters they were when I was kid--they're real people, and their flaws are floating around near the surface and I'm annoyed that I didn't see that before. Laura was raised in an extremely conservative way, and my disappointment in her anti-suffrage talk was probably my proto-feminism rearing its head.

But this reading experience is like lying on your back in the ocean, letting the waves pick you up and carry you. Wilder's words are simple, but the pictures she paints (with the help of the lovely Garth Williams illustrations) are complete and encompassing. I feel like I'm standing next to Laura as the story unfolds, or riding with her on her cousin's wild ponies. And it's impossible to dislike her as a character: she's curious, bright, and honest. Being a pioneer girl was tremendously taxing and, at times, terrifying. Reading these books, whenever I read them, is a transporting experience, and whatever problems they have, I do like to be transported.