W.D. Myers (Monster)

Patricorp is world-renowned for doing things a little differently. For example, you may not be aware that Patricorp was the first company to put a shine on their ball bearings. So we respect Walter Dean Myers for what he's trying to do in Monster. Sure he's telling a story that's been told before, but he's doing it a little differently. The story of a teenager in trouble with the law is relatively familiar, but we at Patricorp are hard pressed to find an example of the story written as a screenplay by the protagonist before.

Frankly, we thought this was pretty cool. Pretty neat. Worthy of the Patricorp Neat Genre Stamp of Approval.

However, we didn't really enjoy the story. It confused us that the main character was on trial for Murder 1 when all he did was act as a lookout. It confused us that he thought he might be put to death. This all seemed pretty odd, and really got in the way of our enjoying the plot. We've been wrong before though (remember the Rainbow-Colored Widget Debacle of '62?) and maybe this is the case.

We liked that the protagonist was able to tell his own story (and if you think we like it here, wait 'til we revue The Hunger Games). We liked that he expressed emotion, and had trouble doing so. We just weren't crazy about the plot. Sorry WDM, but this is a sticking point for us.

However, we think this book could touch readers with a keener ability to suspend disbelief. Give it a try.

Looking For Alaska

Over here at Patricorp, we know that annual awards are a two-sided proposition. On the one hand, we appreciate the recognition that comes with winning the ACE Hardware "Widget of the Year" award. Customers know that they can trust our widgets to fulfill all of their widget-ing needs. They know our products are of a high quality, and likely to delight. Our customers even gain confidence in our ball bearings. However, they also begin to wonder why such an award (or the 17 other annual awards designed to recognize widget excellence) exists. Many ask if the widget awards could be rolled into a broader category, with awards given to makers for excellence in the widget/ball bearing/gasket/grommet field.

With all of this in mind, we eyed the Michael J. Printz Award indication on Looking For Alaska ambivalently. Sure, it's nice to be an award winner, but what does it all mean? Does it validate the story the book contains? Does it mean that John Green is an excellent writer (and if so, is he as good at writing as we are at producing widgets?)?

Luckily, we progressed past the cover art to the actual book. We took a whirlwind tour through Culver Creek Boarding School, through the before, through the after, and perhaps, into the Great Perhaps. And Holy Widgets, weren't we glad we did. This book, this is why we got into literary criticism. With plot so rich, writing so elegant, and characters so tragically flawed, we felt L4A making its way from our fingertips, through our skin and into our blood stream. L4A isn't a perfect book. None really are. But it was beautiful. We had a hard time admitting the book was over. It ended like it began, with a bit of uncertainty, and a bit of optimism.

For the most part, we loved the characters. We would have like to see more depth from Alaska and Takumi. We would have liked to see more imaginative pranks. We would have liked to see the Weekend Warriors as characters, not caricatures. We'll take what John Green gave us however. It was beautiful.

The Chocolate War

At Patricorp, we know a thing or two about the classics. After all, we've been the world's finest purveyor of widgets and ball bearings since late 1942. (It's amazing what a World War can do for a fledgling widget/ball bearing company [hint: sell to both sides]). That is to say, we at Patricorp understand classics because we are one. We knew that when we diversified to include literary criticism, we'd have to deal with classics relatively often. We already knew that some classics are wonderful pieces of art, like The Great Gatsby, while others serve as a reminder that authors in the middle 19th century apparently didn't have editors (The Scarlet Letter?).

For us, The Chocolate War falls into the second catagory. Sure, it has been praised for three and a half decades as one of the most important works of Young Adult literature, but it just doesn't resonate with us. Here are some reasons 1) the story isunrealistic and inconsequential, B) the author captured life as it existed in the past, but his characters' actions have no bearing on the present, and *) the ending is almost completely devoid of emotion (or, at the very least, stirred no emotion in us).

We understand that good stories don't have to be realistic. If Star Wars was realistic, it'd be about three minutes long. However, TCW tries to be realistic, but fails miserably. The idea that a priest would enlist a bunch of adolescent pseudo-gangsters to sell the chocolates that he overextended himself to buy is laughable. Ha. Jerry Renault's struggle against the universe means so much less when framed inside this plot.

Robert Cormier has been lauded for supposedly describing life as it was for children, but, in our eyes, his attempts at touching on universal truths (and thus making his story timeless) fall flat. Some say that his book is too shocking for print and helpless children's eyes, but we say this is bupkis. Nothing really shocks modern teens, and we at Patricorp have been making widgets and ball bearings for too long to be surprised by anything in a novel.

Finally, we were dismayed by the ending. Actually, we were dismayed that we weren't dismayed by the ending. Or overjoyed. Or anything. We won't give anything away, but the book's resolution was so ridiculous that we had a hard time feeling anything.

We guess the moral of this story is that some classics are good and some are bad. We happened to find this one disagreeable. Better luck next time.

Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You

At Patricorp, we love books. We have to really, since we've diversified from widget and ball bearing production to literary criticism. We love books with happy endings, and books that challenge the reader. We love books that are unique, and we're suckers for books that follow tried and true formulae. We especially love Young Adult literature, because we feel like we're rooting for an underdog, and who doesn't like that?

Our first venture into literary criticism is Peter Cameron's Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You. STPWBUtY is an important work because it doesn't pull punches. It describes the world exactly as a teenager experiences it, and James, the protagonist, follows more closely in Holden Caulfield's footsteps than any character in the last half century. James' angst sears the pages as his family interrogates him about his sexuality and pressures him to conform and behave like a normal teenager. His troubled confusion is tangible as he pursues a coworker covertly.

We at Patricorp have a strict policy of not spoiling the ending of a book. However, it's safe to say that this story, like all real tales of growing up, doesn't get tied up nicely. James moves on with his life. He experiences both triumph and tragedy, but it's fitting, because that's the way the world works.

We think that anyone who even remotely enjoys books, reading, or communicating in general should at least make an attempt to read Someday This Pain Will Be Useful to You. It'll teach you about yourself.

Respect

At Patricorp, we respect everything. Literally everything. It's Patricorp company policy. This makes retirement party roasts a bit dull, as we're always complimenting the person moving on to greener pastures.

That's why we're a bit confused at the lack of respect given to Adolescent Literature. It seems no one likes these books. Teens don't want to read them because they're (the books) supposedly not serious enough. Teachers don't want to teach them because they'll get in the way of the classics, and surely you don't want us to live in a world without the classics!? Bookstores don't know what to do with Young Adult titles. Too often, we've noticed, YA books are sold in or near the children's book section, or misrepresented as primarily stories about vampires. Some stores don't even have a book buyer for Young Adult titles.

We've found that the only people giving these titles any love are librarians. It's a good thing too. Because librarians are the sort of people who can get these book into schools and into teen readers' hands. Which is a good thing, because we at Patricorp have found that young readers tend to love books written for them. The characters face the same sorts of issues that the readers do. They can empathize with the protagonists.

So, how about giving some respect to these books? For the most part, they're well written. Many of them are of a higher literary level than some adult books. The genre is exploding. If you haven't picked up a YA book yet, do it. Respect is due.