36. Inside Out and Back Again
Sep. 27th, 2013 12:14 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
osprey_archerIn one of my Newbery posts I mentioned that Out of the Dust instilled in me a firm prejudice against all books in verse, on the grounds that they too are doubtless repositories of unspeakable misery.
“Inside Out and Back Again!” said![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
asakiyume. “In verse and *not* awesomely depressing!” (She has an excellent review here, which includes a picture of the stunning cover and also quotes from the book - a description of a photo of the heroine’s father, for instance:
How peaceful he looks,
smiling,
peacock tails
at the corners
of his eyes)
And lo! I have read it, and it is more than merely not depressing: though it’s quite sad at times, it has all the humor and hope that Out of the Dust lacks. (Hope may make the distinction between sad and depressing in books. Must think about this more.)
This is all the more impressive because Inside Out and Back Again has at least as much raw material for misery as Out of the Dust. Our heroine is Ha, a young Vietnamese girl living in Saigon in early 1975. When Saigon falls, her family flees on an overcrowded boat, lands in a series of refugee camps, and ends up in Alabama, where many of her classmates make fun of her while Ha, unable to speak English, fumes in silence and shame.
The neighbor lady offers to give her language lessons, and
makes me learn the rules
I’ve never noticed
like a, an, and the,
which act like little megaphones to tell the world
whose English
is still secondhand.
Ha points out, pouting, that Vietnamese gets along just fine without any articles, so what does English need them for? Her neighbor gently explains,
every language has annoyances and illogical rules,
as well as sensible beauty.
And, on top of all its other joys, it’s a very quick read. I recommend it.
“Inside Out and Back Again!” said
asakiyume. “In verse and *not* awesomely depressing!” (She has an excellent review here, which includes a picture of the stunning cover and also quotes from the book - a description of a photo of the heroine’s father, for instance: How peaceful he looks,
smiling,
peacock tails
at the corners
of his eyes)
And lo! I have read it, and it is more than merely not depressing: though it’s quite sad at times, it has all the humor and hope that Out of the Dust lacks. (Hope may make the distinction between sad and depressing in books. Must think about this more.)
This is all the more impressive because Inside Out and Back Again has at least as much raw material for misery as Out of the Dust. Our heroine is Ha, a young Vietnamese girl living in Saigon in early 1975. When Saigon falls, her family flees on an overcrowded boat, lands in a series of refugee camps, and ends up in Alabama, where many of her classmates make fun of her while Ha, unable to speak English, fumes in silence and shame.
The neighbor lady offers to give her language lessons, and
makes me learn the rules
I’ve never noticed
like a, an, and the,
which act like little megaphones to tell the world
whose English
is still secondhand.
Ha points out, pouting, that Vietnamese gets along just fine without any articles, so what does English need them for? Her neighbor gently explains,
every language has annoyances and illogical rules,
as well as sensible beauty.
And, on top of all its other joys, it’s a very quick read. I recommend it.
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Date: 2013-09-29 03:39 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2013-09-29 04:21 am (UTC)