Ignoring Binky: The Life and Times of Victor Evertor by Beverly Red and Mitch Hall

In doing a unit on graphic novels, I set this one out after skimming it. Although it has its fair share of PG-13 content (“S” words are said, while the “F words” are blanked out), the “relations between adults” are shown with underwear rather than full-on nakedness. The opening birthing scene, however, left the kids in a fit of giggling so it was put aside for use by some of our older readers. In reading through it I felt torn. Clearly, this is a left-wing publication that triumphs the voice of the IMF protestors, anarchists and the like. They have some valid points: We have damaged our world, and ourselves, perhaps beyond repair, by focusing on power and greed. The lead character, Victor Evertor, is raised by parents who judge and hate and he follows the predictable path of using an ROTC uniform to hide his bullying tendencies. He is a womanizer who loves neither his wife nor his children, but is willing to sacrifice all – even his own life – to be at the top of his perceived “mountain of success”. Binky is the social consciousness of the piece, and follows Victor from birth to “brink of death” with chidings to be a better man. The artwork succeeds in conveying complex emotions (anger, in particular) and the simple line drawings are good accompaniment to the extensive text (this actually took some time to read). My only problem with the images is that the character of Victor is sometimes hard to discern in the groupings of businessmen, as his visage changes with age and mood throughout the book. My bigger issue with the story is that it is almost too leftist … which is saying a lot, coming from me. Do I believe in the total overthrow of all corporations? No. Do I think that all companies are essentially evil at heart? No. It is in the broad characterizations and stereotypes that this story fails. While I do know someone like Victor, someone who seemingly has no love for humanity, I find it hard to believe he is real. Victor, his meek then emancipated wife, his resentful kids, his Vietnam war soldier brother who goes from addict to granola-munching kayaker – it’s all just a little too flat. We live in a complex world, and solving the problems we face (media manipulation, the power of big brother, consumerism without understanding of consequences) requires complex and layered thinking. An attempt to understand the forces that create monolithic industries, and a visionary effort to move us into a myriad of possible “better” futures requires thinkers and doers, not simply condemnation. This book may spark some strong reactions, and that’s good, but the next step is to begin work on answers.

“Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village” by Laura Amy Schlitz

Finally! The two-month wait to get the Newbery title has been rewarded. It arrived yesterday and I was able to read it in a single afternoon. Chalking this one up to another esoteric pick by the arcane Newbery committee, I was pleasantly surprised by this off-beat and unusual award-winner. The book is a series of 21 monologues, meant to be performed by 23 young actors. The intertwined stories are those of villagers in the Middle Ages, and are accompanied by a number of brief informational sections describing historical roles and events. The monologues themselves include a number of notes and there is an extensive glossary as well. Although the work is meant for performance, it was enjoyable to read – and had quite a number of interesting facts that I was completely unaware of (although I fancy myself a decent historian when it comes to this period in time). The book works best when the author’s humor and cleverness comes out (including some arch comments about the crusades) but is a bit of a mystery in terms of who might pick it up. The detailed and well-matched illustrations by Robert Byrd are a perfect accompaniment to the text, but the book presents as a picture book. High schoolers will not pick it up for this reason, yet the text was a challenge for ~me~, so I hardly think younger children would “get” it. Many of the monologues are in verse, which I did find a bit challenging, as they don’t adhere strictly to any one form – sometimes rhyming, sometimes not, sometimes very metered but breaking the meter as needed. That was a minor distraction in reading text that seemed very legitimate in terms of language of the period. The book was entertaining, engrossing and enlightening, so try to find an hour or two to peruse it. I guarantee you will learn something you didn’t know before!