I <3 YA books
Oct. 23rd, 2011 12:40 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
elabyAt our local library, I discovered a series of YA books by Catherine Jinks about the squire of a Templar during the Crusades (specifically, right before the Third Crusade - the first book takes place in 1186, I think, and includes the Battle of Hattin). They are marvelous. The first book, Pagan's Crusade, was wonderful (the main character's name bears no relation to his religious affiliation, by the way - I was a teeny bit disappointed XD but Christianity in these books is handled very well), and I just finished the second one, Pagan in Exile, this morning. Pagan is an utterly delightful narrator - he's a Christian Arab who was born in Bethlehem and grew up as an orphan in a monastery from whence he ran away at the age of ten, and he's a sarcastic, streetwise, completely realistic down-on-his-luck kid. The first-person narrative is done in a really interesting style. It's comprised of snatches and bits of imagery: what Pagan sees, hears, smells, feels, thinks. Spoken words are usually peppered with his sarcastic inner monologue. This evokes medieval Jerusalem very effectively along with putting the reader right inside Pagan's head. It's also a vivid and - I imagine - realistic way to describe the frenzied battle scenes, for example.
Pagan in Exile is even better. In the first book, Pagan and his knight, Lord Roland, unfold as complex and compelling characters, and their depth only increases in the second book. There's a particular element in this one that I wanted to talk about, but I'm going to put it under a cut even though I'll still be as vague as possible, to avoid spoilers. It's a subject that's very important to me personally, especially in YA books.
There's a gay character in Pagan in Exile, or "gay" as far as such identification can go in a medieval setting. The revelation that he was gay came pretty close to the end, and I think it was supposed to be quite a surprise, but I suspected it almost from his first appearance. He acted differently than the other characters expected him to act, and one of the subplots was the mystery of why. All I could think of, even before the narrative cues of "something is going on here", was "Wow, it really sounds like he's attracted to [other male character]." However, I'm prone to thinking that even when that's not what's intended. But this is the weird thing: I found myself hoping, while I was reading it, that he wouldn't turn out to be gay. I mean, what's the matter with me? I should always want to see more gay characters, especially in YA fiction, and especially in stories where the main focus is something else! But I was afraid - I was terrified - that if he did turn out to be gay, he would be portrayed as disgusting and lecherous and cruel. Considering this character, even apart from any sexuality, these were not entirely out of the realm of possibility. I was so afraid that it would turn out that way. I love these books, I really seriously love them, and I would feel so betrayed by something like that. The plot had plenty of "red herrings" that could realistically explain his actions, and I hoped it was one of them.
When it was finally revealed that he was, in fact, attracted to [other male character], I just kept thinking "Please oh please don't let [other male character] be disgusted and horrified, please don't let him try to force [other male character] or take revenge on him for however he reacts."
And it was handled almost better than I could have hoped. Instead of disgust, the reaction was more of... not pity, exactly, but sudden understanding of why this character always seemed so miserable. Acknowledgment of what a hard, dangerous lot "people like him" had been given. The other male character even thanked God he hadn't been made like that. When I say it now, it sounds insulting, but it's based on the integral idea that (according to the religious architecture of this book) God made people the way they were. It's not a choice. That's such an important concept to me. It was realistic enough to medieval thought to convince me - I didn't feel it was anachronistic or had a too-modern idea of individuality - and it wasn't condemning. Thank you, Catherine Jinks.
In short, thumbs up :3
Pagan in Exile is even better. In the first book, Pagan and his knight, Lord Roland, unfold as complex and compelling characters, and their depth only increases in the second book. There's a particular element in this one that I wanted to talk about, but I'm going to put it under a cut even though I'll still be as vague as possible, to avoid spoilers. It's a subject that's very important to me personally, especially in YA books.
There's a gay character in Pagan in Exile, or "gay" as far as such identification can go in a medieval setting. The revelation that he was gay came pretty close to the end, and I think it was supposed to be quite a surprise, but I suspected it almost from his first appearance. He acted differently than the other characters expected him to act, and one of the subplots was the mystery of why. All I could think of, even before the narrative cues of "something is going on here", was "Wow, it really sounds like he's attracted to [other male character]." However, I'm prone to thinking that even when that's not what's intended. But this is the weird thing: I found myself hoping, while I was reading it, that he wouldn't turn out to be gay. I mean, what's the matter with me? I should always want to see more gay characters, especially in YA fiction, and especially in stories where the main focus is something else! But I was afraid - I was terrified - that if he did turn out to be gay, he would be portrayed as disgusting and lecherous and cruel. Considering this character, even apart from any sexuality, these were not entirely out of the realm of possibility. I was so afraid that it would turn out that way. I love these books, I really seriously love them, and I would feel so betrayed by something like that. The plot had plenty of "red herrings" that could realistically explain his actions, and I hoped it was one of them.
When it was finally revealed that he was, in fact, attracted to [other male character], I just kept thinking "Please oh please don't let [other male character] be disgusted and horrified, please don't let him try to force [other male character] or take revenge on him for however he reacts."
And it was handled almost better than I could have hoped. Instead of disgust, the reaction was more of... not pity, exactly, but sudden understanding of why this character always seemed so miserable. Acknowledgment of what a hard, dangerous lot "people like him" had been given. The other male character even thanked God he hadn't been made like that. When I say it now, it sounds insulting, but it's based on the integral idea that (according to the religious architecture of this book) God made people the way they were. It's not a choice. That's such an important concept to me. It was realistic enough to medieval thought to convince me - I didn't feel it was anachronistic or had a too-modern idea of individuality - and it wasn't condemning. Thank you, Catherine Jinks.
In short, thumbs up :3
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Date: 2011-10-23 05:53 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2011-10-23 05:55 pm (UTC)http://www.fordham.edu/halsall/pwh/gaymidages.asp
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Date: 2011-10-23 09:53 pm (UTC)no subject
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Date: 2011-10-29 07:18 pm (UTC)