THEME: Charles & Emma

When we read Claire Rudolf Murphy’s passionate recommendation for Charles and Emma on The Storyteller’s Inkpot, a blog produced by faculty members of Hamline University’s MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults, we were curious to learn more so we invited Claire to join our conversation about the book here.


Dear Heather,

Since I raved about Charles and Emma a few weeks ago on our Hamline blog, The Storyteller’s Inkpot, you invited me to write a post for your blog this month. This book did indeed knock my socks off. I even called it sexy. Sexy in that it grabs you from the first page with Charles Darwin’s thoughts of marriage and keeps you focused, turning pages. Many of us adults have been in that marriage quandary. Teen readers may be wondering if they ever will.

Hundreds of books have been written about Darwin, including his own The Origin of Species, published in 1859, twenty-one years after his wedding. But none have ever focused on Darwin's relationship with his devout Christian wife Emma. And that is what makes this book high concept nonfiction. It reads like a great novel. Indeed they do marry. But the promise revealed in the first chapter is carried all the way through: How can you love someone who doesn't believe like you do?

So Heather, when you asked me to post more reflections on this book, I am now several weeks removed from my first study of it. I so admire the way all three of you have discussed and dissected craft in this and other books and included tips for writers of all ages. My discussion is more wide-ranging, but mainly it focuses on theme, the heart of the book and where it came from.

What has stayed with me is how relevant this book’s theme still is today. We still live in a culture of believers and nonbelievers, evolutionists and creationists. If Charles and Emma figured out how to live and love peacefully, then can’t we all respect our differences? It’s gotten so ugly, even violent nowadays.

Heiligman found her theme for Darwin’s life by exploring his relationship with something she cared passionately about - religion. A religious studies' major in college, she’s been thinking and studying about religion and spirituality for decades.

Some editors would say, “Steer away from such a controversial topic. We don’t want to turn off readers.” But don’t we all respect a fair debate, a meeting of the minds or not? That’s what Heiligman presents for us readers – a way to disagree and still get along. She confronts the elephant in the room, and readers like me are cheering her on.

Modern politics and religion have lost this polite discourse, and we are the poorer for it. It’s often said that a writer’s perspective on history is influenced more by the culture of her day, than by the historical setting she is writing about.

What about the rest of your readers? Did it hit you the same way? Wow – Heiligman takes on this hot topic subject that we’re still going at today and likely will until the end of human time.

Maybe one aspect that makes this tricky subject readable is that Darwin didn’t ram his beliefs down his wife’s throat. He waited twenty years to publish it, for fear of its reception in Christian England, and what it would do to his family. Christian Emma supported non-believer Charles every step of the way, in spite of worrying that they would not be together in heaven. But in the end, it wasn’t the big issue of religion that challenged them the most, but rather illness and death and the small challenges of daily life.

By waiting and revising over that many years, Darwin’s book became stronger, and so did their relationship. What a lesson for us all. Give it time – whether a book, a loved one, a cause we believe in.

Not only was Heiligman a religious studies major, she met her scientist husband in college. In her acknowledgements she notes that she never would have written this book without the years of discussions between them about the intersection between religion and science. She couldn’t have written that high concept nonfiction book without her own life experiences.

I believe that is what we are asked to do as writers: tap deeply into what we know about people and life at such a deep level that it rings true for readers, whether fiction or nonfiction. Maybe not for twenty years, but time enough for the story to season and grow.

Claire

Claire Rudolf Murphy is the author of seventeen books of fiction and nonfiction for children and young adults, including Children of Alcatraz: Growing Up on the Rock; Daughters of the Desert: Remarkable Women of the Christian, Jewish and Muslim Traditions; Children of the Gold Rush and the upcoming picture book Susan B., Mama and B. She has an M.F.A. in creative writing from the University of Alaska in Fairbanks and is a member of the Hamline University MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults faculty. You can learn more about her books at http://clairerudolfmurphy.com/.

StorySleuths Tip #58: Tap deeply into what we know about people and life at such a deep level that it rings true for readers, whether fiction or nonfiction.

STORY CHOICES: A Season of Gifts

Dear Allyson,

You brought up Mrs. Dowdel in your post about characters in A Season of Gifts. I can’t agree more with your assessment that actions speak louder than words: in everything she does, Mrs. Dowdel proves that she is larger than life.

Unfortunately, some of the actions of this fictional character have resulted in a real-world controversy. I know that the goal of StorySleuths is to find examples of great writing techniques in hopes of improving our own writing. However, I feel I must take a step away from craft to draw attention to something that gives most writers nightmares: the potential of inadvertently offending people through our writing.

The bloggers and readers over at School Library Journal’s Heavy Medal, a Mock Newbery blog, have been debating just such an issue in A Season of Gifts. The issue relates to a rumor about a Kickapoo Indian ghost.

Let’s start with what happens in the book (spoiler alert!):

• Rumors circulate that a Kickapoo Indian ghost haunts Mrs. Dowdel’s property, which was built on an ancient burial ground.
• When a group of teenage girls tries to steal squashes from Mrs. Dowdel, a ghost, wearing beaded moccasins and a feathered headdress, appears.
• Bob, the narrator, realizes that his little sister Ruth Ann played the part of the ghost in Mrs. Dowdel’s charade.
• Mrs. Dowdel profits from the ensuing excitement and publicity about the Kickapoo Princess ghost by setting up a roadside stand to sell her melons, preserves, and crafts.
• A few days later, Mrs. Dowdel decides it’s time to put the Kickapoo Princess rumor to rest (pun intended). She comes to Bob’s father, pastor of the new and struggling Methodist church, with a box of “bones” and a request for a funeral.

Mrs. Dowdel says, “’You can’t get a church up and goin’ without a good funeral first… Any fool could tell you that. Without a funeral, you ain’t got a chance…’” She explains that she’s tired of the “’fussin’ and fumin’ about restless spirits and floatin’ princesses’” so she dug up the princess’ bones. She hands Mr. Barnhart a box wrapped in a blanket. “’This is all I could find of her, and it’s not much more than eye-teeth and gristle’” (pp. 71-72).

Mr. Barnhart reluctantly agrees to support Mrs. Dowdel’s plan. “’I’m not a showman,’” he tells his wife. “’It sounds like they won’t want a funeral. They’ll want a show.’” He shakes the blanket-wrapped box and adds, “’I don’t think there’s much of anything in this box…. Or anybody” (pp. 73-74).

Nina Lindsey at SLJ writes

“It’s mostly the digging-up-and-reburying of the ‘bones’ that really upsets me…. What Grandma Dowdel is doing is capitalizing on the publicity that a ‘Kickapoo Princess Ghost’ generates to insure the success of a Christian Church.”

Her blogging counterpart, Jonathan Hunt, contends that Peck’s writing is satirical.

“He is not making a comment on Native culture, but rather the white culture that finds it, by turns, fascinating, mystifying, and exotic.”

Were Mrs. Dowdel’s actions exploitative, as one Heavy Medal commenter said? Do her actions offend? Does the book perpetuate stereotypes? I encourage StorySleuths readers to look at the SLJ Heavy Medal posts and reader comments, as well as subsequent posts. The debate is fascinating on multiple levels.

Why do I bring this up? I must admit that when I first read this section in A Season of Gifts, I assumed the bones were as fake as the princess ghost. Mrs. Dowdel devised the funeral for two purposes, namely stopping people from visiting her property and helping the struggling church. Mr. Barnhart’s sermon (“Her communion the juice of the berry/And the loaf from this Illinois grain”), made me a little uncomfortable because of the mixture of references to nature and Christian symbols. I did not see any potential for offense. I merely saw Mrs. Dowdel’s hoax.

It is clear, though, that these sections do offend. Debbie Reese commented, “Disgusting lack of respect. Utter lack of shame.” (Read more at her blog, American Indians in Children’s Literature).

Second, as a writer, I would hate to cause offense to readers through negligence or ignorance. I am a white, middle-class female writer who grew up in the United States. And yet, I cannot write about my neighborhood only. I live in a diverse, multi-cultural world. I write about characters who travel to places as near as California and as far as India. How do I portray their experiences authentically and sensitively?

If Richard Peck, a Newbery Medal-winning author, can get in trouble, then what about the rest of us? What can we as writers do? Should we only write about our own culture? How do we reflect the diversity of the world or, in the case of historical fiction, the realities of the past?

Debra McArthur, who is graduating this semester from Hamline University’s MFA in Writing for Children program, wrote her critical thesis about this subject. In a lecture this summer, she said,

We all have the responsibility to work our hardest to create non-rascist literature: to portray the characters who need to be in our stories in ways that represent them as people, not stereotypes.

Debra had a number of suggestions, including:

• Be aware of predictable stumbling blocks (see guidelines from the Council on Interracial Books for Children)
• Recognize our own limited view of the world
• Be honest in our appraisal of our own work
• Be willing to accept criticism and consider other viewpoints
• Know that we will likely fail in some respects.

Returning to A Season of Gifts, I don’t know Peck’s intentions for this section. Maybe he meant it to be satirical. Maybe he meant it to be funny. One of Heavy Medal’s readers made an interesting comment about the princess bones. “They aren’t organic or necessary part of the story, and I don’t think they add anything important or valuable… either.”

This comment made me wonder: If Peck didn’t mean to write satirically, could he have found a different way for Mrs. Dowdel to help the Barnharts’ church?

Allyson, I am learning so much about craft from reading and rereading A Season of Gifts. Peck is a skilled writer who brings places and people to life. This issue with the Kickapoo Princess reminds me that we must bring as much attention to our story choices as we do to our craft. We need to be aware of what we are doing when we write outside our own culture or time period. We risk falling short of our intentions, as Debra McArthur noted, but we must do our best to tell our stories honestly and fairly.

StorySleuths Tip #35: Solicit feedback from others. If something seems potentially offensive or insensitive, ask whether the questionable part is integral to the story. Review the CIBC guidelines. Brainstorm other options for achieving story goals.

LARGER SOCIAL ISSUES: When You Reach Me

Hi Meg –


I’m really glad we looked more deeply into the role of secondary characters, both the more significant characters, like Annemarie, and the seemingly less so, like Jimmy, and the teacher. I have found that as a result I’m paying far more attention to the secondary characters in the middle-grade novel I’m revising, and isn’t that precisely the point of this work?

On we go, to Larger Social Issues.

As authors for children we are advised to steer away from being didactic. How, then, does a writer convey a strongly held belief, piece of morality, or life lesson without making the reader feel preached to? After reading When You Reach Me I am left feeling quite confident about some of Stead’s beliefs:

• That our system of incarceration is broken.
• That racism is an abhorrent thing.
• That the problem with homelessness in our country is a complex issue in which the need for personal safety and the desire to be kind often butt heads, resulting in our simply treating the homeless and helpless as though they are invisible.
• That the world would be a gentler place if girls were not so mean.

The writer in me wants to understand how I took all this away when I never, for a moment, felt that Stead was standing on a soapbox pushing her beliefs at me. And here is the conclusion that I have drawn—it all goes back to that old adage, show don’t tell. Stead succeeded because she never used narrative to describe these larger social issues. Instead, she thrust her characters into believable situations in which they either faced these things directly, or shared dialogue about them.

Raising social issues such as these makes our work more relevant to our readers, and makes our books excellent catalysts for classroom discussions. Now, a look at how Stead contemplates these issues without being heavy-handed . . .

Our System of Justice

Once a month Miranda’s mother works at a jail where she talks to pregnant prisoners about what to expect after their babies are born. She explains to Miranda that jail is a hard place. That it changes people, “from becoming who they might grow to be.” (p. 85) Miranda sees that as a good thing, after all, jail is supposed to change you, to reform you so that you are no longer a criminal. Her mother explains, “A lot of people make bad mistakes. But being in jail can make them feel like a mistake is all they are. Like they aren’t even people anymore.” ( p. 85) At another point Miranda’s mother says, “not everyone accused of a crime is a criminal.” (p. 116)

There is never a statement made that our system of justice is broken, but the discussions between Miranda and her mother cause the reader to contemplate such a possibility.

The Meanness of Girls

Girls can be really mean. I know this from experience both as the girl who dished it out and the girl who meanness was heaped onto. In When You Reach Me, the girls in Miranda’s classroom are vicious to Alice Evans. Alice seems a perfectly likable girl, but she has the unfortunate challenge of needing to use the restroom often, and urgently. When the girls sense that Alice needs to go, they do their best to delay her. They find it funny watching her writhe and twitch. It is painful to read about.

Miranda eventually befriends Alice when she offers to go with her to the restroom. She says, “Sometimes you never feel meaner than the moment you stop being mean.” (p. 144) In that same discussion she goes on to say, “I wasn’t one of the girls who tortured her on purpose, but I had never lifted a finger to help her before, or even spend one minute being nice to her.”


As writers for children, we must, through our fiction, offer our readers strategies for navigating the real world. We must give them opportunities to see themselves as both the good guy and the bad guy, because really, aren’t we all a bit of both? Stead has done young readers a service by demonstrating the hurtful affects of meanness, and offering way out.

Race Relations

Miranda explains about the character Julia, “I soon found out that Julia wasn’t like the rest of us.” (p. 34) This is not because Julia is black, plenty of kids in Miranda’s world are shades of black or brown. The thing that makes Julia different is that she is wealthy. For Miranda it is Julia’s wealth, and not her color that is an issue. The character Jimmy, on the other hand, is a bigot who spurns anyone whose skin color is a shade off-white. When Annemarie understands his motivation for keeping Julia out of his sandwich shop, she calls him a “racist pig.” (p. 129) Rightfully so.


I love the fact that Stead has introduced racial conflict in a way that is in keeping with how children, especialy children living in a non-homogenous place like New York might experience it. While they themselves may be color-blind, the world, sadly, isn’t. Stead never says, “racism is bad.” Instead, she demonstrates the ignorance of racism through the character Jimmy.

Homelessness

In the character the laughing man Stead confronts the issue of homelessness. Here is a man who shows up out of nowhere, the way homeless people do. He laughs for no apparent reason. Shakes his fist at the sky, yelling. He sleeps with his head under the mailbox. By anyone’s account, he is not just homeless, he is mentally ill. The kids have taken to calling him names, which initiates this conversation between Miranda and her mother:
     “Don’t call him Quack,” Mom said. “That’s an awful name for a human being.”
     “Even a human being who’s quackers?”
     "I don’t care. It’s still awful.” (p. 16)

At one point Miranda and Sal walk past the laughing man as if he were not there. Isn’t that what most of us do when encountering a homeless person? Stead makes a bit of social commentary about that phenomenon: “It’s crazy the things a person can pretend not to notice.” (p 18.)

In the chapter titled Mom’s Rules for Life in New York City Miranda describes the precautions she’s been taught to take as a child growing up in a large city. Having lived in New York for years, I found Miranda’s list of precautions to be completely plausible. We all learn to avoid eye contact. We insulate ourselves from other people. It is illuminating when Miranda says, “and I’ve discovered that most people I’m afraid of are actually very friendly.” (p 26.)

Later, Miranda gives the laughing man a sandwich. When her mother objects to Miranda’s having done so, Miranda is taken aback. She thought her mother would approve of her demonstrating kindness to a homeless person. Instead, Miranda’s mother delivers a lecture on the inappropriateness of Miranda’s having, “struck up a relationship with a mentally ill person.” (p. 115) Her mother goes on to explain that she is simply concerned for Miranda’s safety.

Again, Stead points a finger at the social struggle we are all faced with. To preserve our own safety we look the other way and ignore social outcasts, yet we teach our children about the importance of generosity and kindness and that all people should be treated equally.

A final note about Stead’s treatment of the homeless and seemingly mentally ill—they all have a story. Some of them are even heroes. Maybe we would be less judgmental, less fearful if we knew what that story was.

Storysleuths’ Tip # 24: Don’t be afraid to broach larger social issues in your work, but when you choose to do so, avoid narrative. Instead, create scenes which demonstrate how your characters’ lives are touched by these issues.

NEW!! Go to NEXT When You Reach Me post.

ALLUSIONS & CULTURAL REFERENCES Don't Trust Your Computer, My Sister Sends Me a Letter, & Reindeer Games

Hi Allyson,

I've been noticing, too, how Alexie slips bits of wisdom into the story. Consider these, all from a previous chapter, "Slouching Towards Thanksgiving":

• "You have to read a book three times before you know it." (p. 94)
• "The world, even the smallest parts of it, is filled with things you don't know." (p. 97)
• "He made me realize that hard work--that the act of finishing, of completing, of accomplishing a task--is joyous." (p. 98)

Truths like these always startle me in a way I like, and make me feel that I'm getting extra value from the characters in the story.


The title of the next long chapter, "Reindeer Games," includes an allusion to contemporary culture that all of the readers would be familiar with. It sets readers up to expect that Junior, like Rudolf, wouldn't be allowed to play (on the team). But eventually, like Rudolf, Junior winds up leading the team--"Coach said I was the best shooter who ever played for him."


Then, when Junior is knocked out by Rowdy and hospitalized, Coach comes into his room after Junior wakes up and shares his wisdom, which is the wisdom of a legendary football coach. But it's not the Vince Lombardi quote Junior knows that Coach shares--it's a new one to Junior: "The quality of a man's life is in direct proportion to his commitment to excellence, regardless of his chosen field of endeavor." The quotation has the ring of authenticity because it was said by a real person, one who the reader, as well as Junior, is aware of, one who has won recognition in his field.


Story Sleuths tip #13: Literary and cultural allusions, and references to familiar and famous people, can give authenticity and depth to your characters and your story.


Over to you, Allyson.
Meg