“The Ruining” by Anna Collomore

Several librarians expressed concern that this book was not appropriate for the middle school audience it was selected for, given the description.  So, I had to read it.  Based on the comments of those who had read it, I didn’t expect much.  For the first 2/3 of the book, however, I was pleasantly surprised.  The writing was decent, albeit a typo here and there (a “thought” that should have been “though”) and the typical inconsistencies one finds in YA lit these days (in timeline and clothing description from paragraph to paragraph).  I wasn’t wild about the San Francisco descriptions which were clearly second-hand (Marin County is not considered “part” of SF proper and describing the area as “warm and sunny” is more of an LA thing than an “inside the bay area” thing) but I was okay with it as a “preconception” of the character.  The storyline was a bit clichéd and predictable ... nothing horrendous for the Romance genre.  Girl from impoverished inner-city Detroit moves to glorious California to become an au pair for a rich couple living near San Francisco.  Of course, there is a suntanned blonde boy next door who works as a paramedic one day a week (with a huge, cute dog).  The boy is attractive but somewhat irritating – yeah, I knew where it was going.  Or so I thought.  A little past half-way, some darker and confusing notes were threaded into the narrative.  There was the over-used and unnecessary plotline thrown in of evil drunken step-dad coming into Annie’s bedroom at night (back in Detroit).  It seemed contrived and only proved to be an additive needed to make the twisty last part of the book work.  It was also in stark contrast to the first half of the book, where Annie says that her home bedroom door “could not be closed because the room was so small that the dresser stuck out past the door’s threshold.”  The issue of closed doors becomes paramount in her new home.  Annie says she stopped evil step-dad by installing a deadbolt on the door … despite the fact that it didn’t close ???  This book had initial potential but didn’t fulfill it.  There were early themes of misery and how one assumes the “other half” is better off, even when they aren’t, but those were left in the dust as the plot began a migration to places unknown.  The two dimensional characters never fully stepped out to any layers – in particular, Annie.  One librarian complained that Annie didn’t sound like an 18 year-old.  I disagree – it’s just that the author never missed an opportunity to put 75 cent words in her mouth.  This makes sense if Annie is the nerdy bookworm she claims to be but her naivety and innocence is a little hard to take given her supposedly rough upbringing.  Maybe if she had come from a rural setting?  I’m also not sure there are too many 18 year-olds out there who would consider a 20 year-old to be an “older man.”   Bottom line – Annie is just a neurotic wuss – and designed that way so that this specific story could be told.  Let’s just say “Bella, move over” cuz we got a new victimized girl for ya.  These elements combined for a “flight of fantasy” in the last third of the book.  Annie is gaslighted, ending up in very dire circumstances, with murder and madness combining in a weird, yet strangely unsurprising way.  I’m not sure how a story can go completely off-kilter yet be utterly predictable at the same time but somehow this tale manages.  The ending has a “wrapping up the loose ties” section that results in resignation and creepiness that may not have been intended.  Let’s just say I’m not sure our heroine ever gets a backbone.  As a sidelight to the strange undertones, I couldn’t help but feel there was some bizarre lesbian thing going on … don’t think that was intended, either, but a little frustrated that the “big bad” here is portrayed as a subtle sexual predator.  Oh well.  Not a winner, in my mind.  We’ll see what my teen readers think.  With no outright violence, virtually no “language” and mild insinuations, at best, about sex, I’m not worried about it.  One last note?  Check out this cover in comparison to Malinda Lo’s “Adaptation” books:  http://www.amazon.com/Adaptation-Malinda-Lo/dp/B00EBFGUKY/ref=sr_1_6?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1386784871&sr=1-6&keywords=malinda+lo  Not an exact copy, but certainly evokes a very similar feel.  I’m just saying. 

“Mountains Beyond Mountains: The Quest of Dr. Paul Farmer, A Man Who Would Cure the World” by Tracy Kidder, Adapted for Young People by Michael French

In a quest to include more nonfiction on our “TAB Bookclub”cart, this new adaptation of Tracy Kidder’s powerful work was included.  Not sure it will draw in many readers but I will definately be marketing it.  Paul Farmer is a man we should all know about.  Surprisingly, we do not.  A doctor dedicated to the poor and to improving the lives of those in places like Haiti, Farmer has basically reinvented how the world deals with the health needs of the indigent and he has transformed TB care around the globe.  The book begins with an introduction by Kidder, explaining that we should not feel guilty when reading about the work of Paul Farmer.  It is hard not to.  “Tirelessly fighting for those with no voice” is an understatement and I was left with a desire to turn over all my worldly goods to Farmer’s PIH consortium after reading this (but didn't).  It was curious to read it near the holidays, with so many needy causes vying for attention.  The book ends with a postscript which addresses the changes in PIH and Haiti over the last ten years. 
 
The book itself seems to have undergone little or no vocabulary changes as a result of the “adaptation.”  I can only assume that some of the more detailed descriptions of violence in Haiti were left out.  It is a mature read and a technical one, as Farmer’s theories of social inequity being inexorably tied to health issues are explored as well as the epidemiology of disease in places like Haiti’s plateau region.  It is not a page turner, and, IMHO, not the most literary of books (a surprise, given Kidder’s Pulitzer Prize) but a personal story and an engaging one.  It is a biography, in the strictest sense, but not a “typical” biography in any way (yes, I know … librarian filing dilemma).  Kidder has a very intimate take on his subject, having spent nearly a year with Dr. Farmer.  He gushes on about how Farmer impacts him personally and interviews many of those surrounding the man to get a full picture of who he is.  The result is complex and interesting.  While reading it, I spent a lot of time wondering how someone becomes as selfless and dedicated as Farmer (so did Kidder) and thinking about the “big picture” of world poverty and health.  It becomes clear that Farmer is not perfect, but passionate and driven.  And there is a price he pays, I believe, that is more inferred than stated.  You will have to decide for yourself.  Bottom line – this isn’t just a book you should read, it’s one you will enjoy.  Now, it's time for me to hit the internet and make a few donations.