100 Books, #35: Stargirl
Jan. 5th, 2014 10:24 amFor years after I read Jerry Spinelli’s Stargirl, I liked to drop small change on the ground in emulation of the heroine. Stargirl is always doing little acts of kindness: she drops change, leaves anonymous cards, keeps all her trimmed hair for birds to make nests with. Whenever one her classmates has a birthday, she sings “Happy birthday” to them on her ukelele in the crowded lunchroom.
Aside from dropping change, I haven’t copied most of Stargirl’s specific actions (certainly not the ukelele interludes!) but it’s hard to overstate how much impact the Stargirl approach had on my conception of “nice things to do.” One of the reasons the note in Untold charmed me so much is that it seemed like very Stargirl.
But rereading Stargirl this break, what strikes me is how hands-off Stargirl’s approach is. All her kindness is anonymous and from a distance. The narrator, Leo, considers this a sign of her saintliness, the fact that she has no interest in taking credit, and in a way it is - but it’s also a way of putting distance between herself and other people: of not getting involved in the nitty-gritty. When Stargirl and Leo come across an advertisement asking for a companion, Stargirl considers sending an anonymous card.
She does not, however, consider volunteering as a companion. Random acts of kindness are nice, but it’s relationships that make people truly happy, and relationships are hard.
One of the things that so appealed to me about Stargirl, I think, is that the vision of kindness it offers is very low-risk: although Stargirl has made it a full-time job, these are all things that you could do in little snippets of time. They require little emotional investment, and because they’re anonymous, they can’t be rejected. You’re unlikely to see an actual person react: you envision a little kid finding a dime or another reader seeing your note in a book, and in your mind, the other person is always pleased.
The big exception to this, of course, is Stargirl’s behavior at school: singing “Happy birthday” on the ukelele, becoming a cheerleader and then cheering for both teams. This is very loud and public and hence high-risk, and it ends badly: it alienates her classmates (because, Spinelli suggests, they have been trained for years in conformity) to the point that they shun her.
Now, on the one hand, shunning is clearly a cruel overreaction to Stargirl’s harmless quirkiness. But on the other hand, if a lot of people are disturbed and alienated by an act of kindness you are trying to commit - are, in short, not experiencing it as an act of kindness, but even as a kind of attack - then maybe it’s time to ask yourself if you don’t have an ulterior motive for the public ukelele playing. Maybe it should make them happy, but clearly it doesn’t.
For a character who is defined by her kindness, Stargirl is strangely tone deaf to other people’s feelings. I didn’t notice this when I first read the book, and it’s a little distressing to reread and see it now.
Aside from dropping change, I haven’t copied most of Stargirl’s specific actions (certainly not the ukelele interludes!) but it’s hard to overstate how much impact the Stargirl approach had on my conception of “nice things to do.” One of the reasons the note in Untold charmed me so much is that it seemed like very Stargirl.
But rereading Stargirl this break, what strikes me is how hands-off Stargirl’s approach is. All her kindness is anonymous and from a distance. The narrator, Leo, considers this a sign of her saintliness, the fact that she has no interest in taking credit, and in a way it is - but it’s also a way of putting distance between herself and other people: of not getting involved in the nitty-gritty. When Stargirl and Leo come across an advertisement asking for a companion, Stargirl considers sending an anonymous card.
She does not, however, consider volunteering as a companion. Random acts of kindness are nice, but it’s relationships that make people truly happy, and relationships are hard.
One of the things that so appealed to me about Stargirl, I think, is that the vision of kindness it offers is very low-risk: although Stargirl has made it a full-time job, these are all things that you could do in little snippets of time. They require little emotional investment, and because they’re anonymous, they can’t be rejected. You’re unlikely to see an actual person react: you envision a little kid finding a dime or another reader seeing your note in a book, and in your mind, the other person is always pleased.
The big exception to this, of course, is Stargirl’s behavior at school: singing “Happy birthday” on the ukelele, becoming a cheerleader and then cheering for both teams. This is very loud and public and hence high-risk, and it ends badly: it alienates her classmates (because, Spinelli suggests, they have been trained for years in conformity) to the point that they shun her.
Now, on the one hand, shunning is clearly a cruel overreaction to Stargirl’s harmless quirkiness. But on the other hand, if a lot of people are disturbed and alienated by an act of kindness you are trying to commit - are, in short, not experiencing it as an act of kindness, but even as a kind of attack - then maybe it’s time to ask yourself if you don’t have an ulterior motive for the public ukelele playing. Maybe it should make them happy, but clearly it doesn’t.
For a character who is defined by her kindness, Stargirl is strangely tone deaf to other people’s feelings. I didn’t notice this when I first read the book, and it’s a little distressing to reread and see it now.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 05:21 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 04:26 pm (UTC)I think there's also a sense in Stargirl that nonconformity qua nonconformity is a good thing, whether or not there's a reason for people to conform to the rules you're breaking. If the others don't appreciate her ukelele-playing, the problem is clearly with them.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 04:45 pm (UTC)There are sometimes really good reasons for not conforming: if everyone in class picks on the mentally retarded kid, or makes fun of the teacher with the wall-eye, for instance. And not conforming in those instances comes at a price and shows commitment to something real, and has a possibility of changing people's minds and making the classroom a better place.
… Okay, so a story doesn't have to be that heavy. But with Stargirl, it seems to be all style and no substance. Being a free spirit isn't just about what your hair ties or your shoelaces look like, but I get the feeling that Spinelli thinks that it is, or that he thinks his audience thinks so. And okay, maybe those things are easy to latch on to, but they should stand for something more!
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 04:48 pm (UTC)I honestly don't know, though. I think he was maybe so focused on the trappings of her difference, on exterior signs that she was an unusual person, that he didn't stop to think about how she really worked. And I think maybe his mission to make her an unusual person overwhelmed his mission to make her a kind one.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 09:59 pm (UTC)There is one scene in Stargirl where this really works: the basketball game where a player on the opposing team breaks his ankle, and she runs out onto the court to comfort him. If that were the reason why her school turned against her, then I think Spinelli's message might have been stronger.
Or, alternatively, if Spinelli had kept Stargirl's strange but basically harmless ukelele playing, but focused the message on not being mean to people who have weird but basically harmless hobbies, instead of holding her up as an avatar of goodness.
Either one would have solved the disconnect between what Spinelli seems to want to do with the character, and what the character actually does.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-06 11:46 pm (UTC)It's funny about the ukelele: nowadays ukeleles have become so popular that it's quite a popular-kid-type thing to be able to play. I can well imagine the popular gang getting together to serenade one another on birthdays, and totally leaving out all the peripheral people. The item used to indicate nonconformity has now become, not conformist, but close to mainstream, if not actually mainstream. This is the problem with trappings standing in for the internal thing--the significance of the trapping can change. (Though, to give Spinelli credit, I think it's quite possible to take particular item, like ukelele playing, and make it clear that in any case, in this particular place and time--this school's culture--it's considered weird, and that's what he does. But it's just weird to think how, in the time since that story was published, ukeleles have become more popular. Stargirl's influence?)
no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 12:07 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 02:44 am (UTC)Now without reading the book, I can't say what her motivation is for the ukelele playing, but because someone else is uncomfortable with your personality (projected as the ukelele playing) - in this case, seeing it as an attack - doesn't mean she has an ulterior motive...again, I haven't read the book so maybe she does want to shove something in her face. But given your brief description, it sounds more like that is a part of her and what makes her happy and people react poorly to it because they don't understand it/are assholes.
Anyway, this sounds like an interesting book! I may have to check it out sometime. :)
no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 06:02 pm (UTC)I mean, if she was simply walking around school strumming the ukelele, that would be one thing: if people didn't like this expression of her personality, they could ignore it. But she's directing her ukelele playing at other people specifically.
no subject
Date: 2014-01-07 07:13 pm (UTC)