Tana French is a phenomenal, literary mystery writer and my mom, brother and I have enjoyed all of her books. I read her third, Faithful Place, earlier this year and for some reason never wrote about it, but still find myself thinking about these words from the final page:
"All that night...I went looking for the parts of my city that have lasted. I walked down streets that got their names in the middle ages...I looked for cobblestones worn smooth and iron railings gone thin with rust. I paid no attention to the shoddy new apartment blocks and the neon signs, the sick illusions ready to fall ...In a hundred years they'll be gone, replaced, forgotten."
I'm in the middle of our last unit of the year, Reading and Writing Through the Literary Genre of Coming of Age. We are obviously focusing on the adolescent coming of age, but I have found that life continues to spiral me through many comings-of-age. We read 8 short texts of a variety of genres together and they are all reading a coming of age novel of their choosing. We are having two class-wide discussions, dividing the books in half. This means that this week discussion revolved around struggle and we have watched all of our characters wrestle with the fact that growing up is equated with pain and finding ways to cope and survive when the safety and blissful ignorance of childhood is pulled away.
This is what brought me back to these words from the protagonist of Faithful Place, because I think to survive well means to have a life rooted in things that last. The imagery that French employs is so poignant to me--especially the "sick illusions" that call me to temporary, shallow wellness, which is what we are seeing in class from our adolescent protagonists on their way to finding something deeper and real. I cannot wait to talk about hope next week and the kinds of things that bring resolution from life's messes. It never ceases to amaze me the way that talking about literature with 13 year olds on a regular basis always brings me back to truth.
No comments:
Post a Comment