Tuesday, October 20, 2009

The Cat Ate My Gymsuit, Paula Danziger

I found this book lacking, despite the quirky title and a sarcastic teenage narrator. Marcy Lewis, narrating in first person, paints a picture of her crappy junior high life what with obesity, friendlessness, hating gym class, boring writing assignments, and a verbally abusive father. Then a new English teacher comes and changes her world. Unconventional Ms. _________ is a hippy, doesn’t teach by the curriculum, but inspires in her students the aptitude to get to know their true selves and to use the English language with witty metaphors. Marcy’s crush, Joel, begins to notice her and admire her for her intelligence, and their friendship begins with many quick-witted exchanges.

All very promising, right?

Unfortunately, Ms. __________ gets suspended for her rebellious teaching methods and the book turns into a battle for justice. Marcy, Joel and their friends team up to undermine the principal, and Marcy’s “put upon” mother rallies against their father to help. There’s a lot of household drama and too many blatant messages about “I don’t need to be/dress/act like everyone else.” Caring parents (it also bugged me that Marcy and her mother were both weepy, and hugged one another a little too much — not all moments of affection need to be documented in a novel!) tell their children how much they’ll learn from the experience, unsupportive parents are utter jerks. Realistically, Ms. _______ wins her hearing, but resigns out of personal principle. I’m thankful that Marcy and Joel don’t have a hackneyed fairytale ending. Marcy’s mother is empowered to escape her father’s clutches and get a job.

I’m thinking of Budge Wilson’s short story, “The Metaphor”, which is a similar tale of a life-changing English teacher. Wilson’s story, though, is a simpler and more sophisticated — in “The Metaphor,” the narrator encounters her favourite teacher again in high school but is too embarassed to acknowledge her, because most of her friends found the said teacher uncool. To me, that’s a far more tragic and appropriate expression of growing up, change, and self-realization.

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