Creeping Cults: The Culting of America by Daniella Mestyanek Young and Amy Reed

 The Culting of America: What Makes a Cult and Why We Love Them by Daniella Mestyanek Young and Amy Reed

The Culting of America book cover

Author Daniella Mestyanek Young

Author Amy Reed

Many thanks to Otterpine and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of The Culting of America: What Makes a Cult and Why We Love Them by Daniella Mestyanek Young and Amy Reed. I’ve noticed more and more books focusing on cults, examining them from different perspectives. Not just the lurid, true crime or primarily academic type books that seemed to analyze some of the more notorious cults from the past 50 years or so (The Manson Family, The People’s Temple); rather books like Amanda Montel’s Cultish (which Mestyanek Young and Reed frequently reference) and Jane Borden’s Cults Like Us take a more nuanced approach to examining the issues of cults and how many groups and institutions in our lives closely mimic cults. Borden’s book argues that America’s founding was itself based on the cult of the Protestant Ethic, among other religious beliefs that have gradually become part of many American’s identities. Mestyanek and Reed make similar claims while developing their own aspects of group dynamics, drawn from research and scholarship, to investigate and examine the practices of various groups and institutions. As the authors acknowledge, its sometimes hard to determine what a cult is, and with Mestayanek’s own personal experiences growing up in a destructive religious cult and serving in the US Army, she identifies elements of these group dynamics in both. Furthermore, I appreciated their advice to readers to move beyond binaries, looking at whether a group is a cult or not, or thinking about good or bad outcomes, with a call to think about the complexities of belonging and more importantly leaving these groups. What costs might members entail with exiting the group, whether they are social, financial, or professional. Also like Borden’s book, Mestyanek and Reed also reference the more recent political and social events in America to examine how instability, lack of connections and relationships, and mistrust and resentment can fuel the rise of cults as a means of filling a void for these connections and beliefs.

Both Mestyanek and Reed use real world examples from well-known cults, institutions and groups, as well as lesser-known examples, to highlight and identify the ways these groups align with their group dynamics. Furthermore, both authors include their own personal examples of participation with cults, institutions and groups to provide further evidence of the seeming benefits and potential drawbacks of membership within these groups. I also appreciated how the authors make use of both scholarly sources and more popular literature like Montell’s book, as well as other first-hand accounts from cult survivors and escapees. It lends a sense of authority and expertise, while also making the content relevant and accessible to a general audience. Furthermore, despite a rather dark and tragic topic, the authors use humor and sarcasm at appropriate times to lighten the mood. The book is filled with many relevant examples that help to highlight the specific practices of these groups and institutions to attract and sustain members. I think it is interesting to see how fine a line the nature of members is for some of these groups like the military and Alcoholics Anonymous, groups which typically are held in high esteem, but also display elements of cult-type membership and potential high-costs for members leaving. I can also understand the pushback that the authors received, but I think they are raising important points about the nature of the groups and their attempts to sustain members, not necessarily arguing that they are inherently bad. However, in reading these examples, we can see how others may misuse or misconstrue some of the elements of these groups to make false promises or to build on more familiar institutions to attract followers and those who are in need of some kind of change or future goal. In particular, Chapter 6, “Distinguishable Vernacular,” was one of the more fascinating sections since it deals with the language of cults and groups. While this was the focus of Montel’s book, Mestyanek and Reed examine some different examples and show how shared language can alter our sense of identity and belief, creating a unique bond among members. I think this is true of almost any group, whether it is a friend group who shares specific slang or a work group that may use specific acronyms and terms to define and solve problems in the field. I know that whenever I’ve started a new job, acclimating to new language, specifically to acronyms, takes almost as much work as learning software or systems.

Mestyanek and Reed examine how often the beliefs that groups adhere to can often spiral into extremism, and how technology like social media and the internet can accelerate belief to action through disinformation and isolation. Mestyanek provides an example from her ex-husband’s radicalization, along with reminders of Q-Anon and the January 6^th Insurrection to further show how seemingly regular people, our neighbors, community members, and friends can all be susceptible to the tricks and deceptive practices of cult leaders. However, this book provides an awareness of these practices, along with some useful checklists and references to “culty things.” I think, though, that one of the most important takeaways in the book is reframing our thinking around cults, shifting from binary, either/or thinking, to examining ideas of membership and belonging in a more complex and holistic manner. In one of the final sections written by guest author Rebecca Slue, also known as The White Woman Whisperer, “The distinction between ‘group’ and ‘community’ is a matter of foundational values and relational truth. Groups are built to be functional, often around a cause, a mission, or a leader.” This last section was also incredibly important in not only reaffirming our sense of belonging to communities and not just groups but also affirming our sense of agency in seeking out these communities and ensuring that they remain communal and democratic. While sharing decision making and responsibilities (and accountability) can be time consuming and tiring, it is essential for the health of the community to involve all. Although frequent references to more notorious groups and cults are found in this book, the authors also frequently reference how more and more work situations can become cult-like, blurring the boundaries between work and belonging. Furthermore, they note how some careers are considered a calling and offer members a strong sense of identity and belonging. While I feel grateful to have a career where I don’t necessarily experience that level of creeping cultiness, I have had jobs where there has been that kind of pressure to work outside of proscribed hours, and I feel like this book offers an important message to many people, not just those interested in cults, psychology, or current events. Rather this book has important insights and ideas about belonging, community, and working, and shares these ideas with research and anecdotes, making the ideas and insights more accessible and understandable. Highly recommended. 

Excavating the Past in Larissa Pham's Discipline

 Discipline by Larissa Pham

Discipline book cover

Author and artist Larissa Pham

Big thanks to Random House and NetGalley for sharing Larissa Pham’s new book Discipline. I previously read and loved Pham’s book Pop Song, a thoughtful and creative collection that played with genre in a unique and heartfelt way, examining Pham’s interests, passions, and love. What I found most compelling about her book was how full of emotion it was, and how candid and in tune she was in connecting her emotions to art, whether it was painting, films, or writing. Discipline finds Pham charting similar territory, but in fiction this time. There’s a scene at the end of Part I where Christine is in a paleontology museum in New Mexico, when she spots a huge piece of rock, looking “as though someone had just been working on it and stepped out.” Christine steps closer to look for a fossil, but realizes she doesn’t even really know what one might look like. I loved how Pham used this metaphor of excavating the past but still being unsure of what Christine is looking for in her past. We learn that Christine has just published her first book, but it came at a cost-the dissolution of her relationship. Her writing, which helped her navigate her own feelings after abandoning painting in grad school, has enabled her to find some sense of professional identity, but she still has more interrogation or excavation to do. This deep dive into her past, questioning her motives and actions, as well as those of her mentor, led her to keep her book from her boyfriend. It’s at this point in the book that the fossil seems to awaken her own questions about how her struggles to excavate her past caused this kind of fracture with her boyfriend. Additionally, I loved that each chapter in the first section of the book focused on a stop on Christine’s book tour and was connected to a meaningful painting. Even the Edward Hopper painting in the bar that Christine encounters allows her to reflect more on the model, Josephine Hopper, the artist’s wife who became “a secretary, a dancer, a woman waiting for an order of chop suey. But it’s always her.” Christine’s own reflection on this painting challenges our own perceptions of artists and their subjects, as well as the identities of female artists, since we learn that Josephine gave up her own career as an artist. In many ways, I saw Christine’s focus on the female subject and how women were like faceless supporting roles in Hopper’s painting like Christine’s own struggles to define herself through her art. It always seemed like the men in her life were trying to assume her roles rather than allow her to define her self or seek out her own identity. In addition to encountering meaningful art at these stops, Christine also re-connects with some old friends and loves, giving her the opportunity to revisit the past, while noting how much has changed. I loved this structure, and how Christine struggles with nostalgia and narratives, harboring a kind of resentment or jealousy at times for her friends and lovers who “learned how to package…previous suffering into neat narrative.” I feel like this is such an apt description of those kinds of mixed feelings young adults feel as their lives progress, and we’re left trying to make sense of our past decisions and choices. I really enjoyed how Christine’s book tour unfolded and each stop brought her in touch with art and past friends, which evoked these mixed and slightly uncomfortable feelings about her writing and her art.

While I loved the first part, I had some reservations about the surprising turn that the second part takes. I won’t get into it, but I really struggled with trying to rate this book. I ultimately gave the book 5 stars, but at first I rated it as 4 stars, averaging the rating between the two parts. However, I realized while the second part has some questionable decisions from Christine, I actually couldn’t put the book down. Although the dialogue is different—it felt shorter and choppier than the more in-depth conversations that Christine shares with her friends and new acquaintances in part I, I can understand how this dialogue takes a different tone. Furthermore, Part II is also part of Christine’s quest to excavate her past and search for meaning among the ruins and fossils. Furthermore, throughout the book, Pham’s poetic descriptions of the exterior and setting add to the mood and tone of the narrative. Those qualities of her excellent writing kept me engaged with Christine’s quest. It’s also why I highly recommend this book, and will probably revisit it at some point. I also think this would make a great book club pick since I would love to see how others responded to Christine’s own questioning of her decisions and choices, especially in the second part of the book. 

Tracing the History of Hijacking: The Revolutionists by Jason Burke

 The Revolutionists: The Story of the Extremists Who Hijacked the 1970s  by Jason Burke

The Revolutionists book cover

Author and Journalist Jason Burke

Big thanks to Knopf Publishers and NetGalley for providing me with an advanced copy of The Revolutionists: The Story of the Extremists Who Hijacked the 1970s by Jason Burke. This book is incredibly detailed and researched, providing a comprehensive history and analysis of the various left-wing movements that arose in the 1960s  and coalesced in the 1970s for different reasons, including political, celebrity and financial outcomes related to hijacking planes. Burke traces the history of the various movements around the globe including the Red Army Faction (Germany), The Japanese Red Army, and the various factions of the Fedayeen, as well as individual actors like Ilich Ramirez Sanchez, also known as Carlos the Jackal. I found Burke’s research and insight into these groups, detailing their backgrounds and formations, as well as the various actions they took against states to attain their goals to be well-researched, balanced, and critical. It’s interesting to consider how new technologies like satellite television, news reporting, and cheaper international flights with limited focus on security provided many of these groups with a platform and leverage to negotiate with states to release prisoners, extract money, or gain access to other countries that would be more receptive or sympathetic to their causes. Reading about these events in a post-9/11 world almost seems like a work of fiction; however, this was the reality of air travel and international terrorism in the 1970s. Burke notes that many of these hijackings aimed to limit casualties and harm to the captives. However, this changed with the 1972 Munich Olympics, which Burke details in the grisly and tragic results. The recently deployed satellites allowed ABC news to broadcast the unfolding drama to live audiences around the world, while Israel’s determination to not negotiate with terrorists further added complications to the attempts to rescue the remaining captive Israeli athletes. Some of the book focuses on the fallout of this event and Israel’s pursuit of vengeance to eliminate those suspected or tangentially involved in the attacks. It was interesting to learn more about those who were involved, especially “The Red Prince,” also known as Ali Hassan Salameh, who was involved in negotiating between the PLO and the CIA to establish a non-violent wing of the PLO advocating for statehood. Beyond providing insight into the history of these movements and groups, Burke’s book also helped me better understand the various groups that have been advocating for Palestinian statehood in both political and violent means for many years. I hadn’t realized the many different attempts to broker peace and Arafat’s movement towards politics after abandoning violence. It also helped me understand the involvement of other countries in the region, including Jordan, Lebanon, Syria, and Egypt.

The latter part of the book focuses on the 1980s, and we see the movement progress from political ideals to spiritual or religious beliefs and ideals, focusing on the Iranian Revolution that occurred in the late 70s, but actually had been simmering for many years as the Shah, an oppressive ruler who jailed and tortured political opponents, had been gradually losing power to the various factions fighting for more rights. It was interesting to see how communist and socialist student groups made the fateful decision to join with the religious clerics to oppose the Shah. I didn’t know much about the background of the revolution, except that the Shah was unpopular. Burke begins this section with a starting instance of violence committed on the Shah’s behalf, where theatergoers watching a popular, but controversial film, were trapped in the theater while it was set on fire. Burke later examines how the Ayatollah Khomeini condoned this kind of violence in the name of beliefs as a kind of divine punishment for transgressive behavior. Again, Burke notes how technology enabled clerics like Khomeini to reach illiterate and disaffected Iranian citizens with a message of hope, culture and identity that resonated with them. Khomeini used tape recordings to push out his sermons, sharing his anger and resentment towards the Shah, while calling for a new kind of revolution, using the language of politics that advocates for change. Interestingly, this revolution came on the heels of the Shah’s cancer diagnosis, which weakened him and caught America and much of the world off guard. I found this section of the book to be some of the most insightful and important to better understand the continued fractured relationships between the US and Israel and Iran. In addition to this section, Burke provides some insight into the roles that countries like Syria, Iraq, and Libya played in further destabilizing the region with violence through terrorism. The book ends examining how the Iranian revolution spread to other countries, especially Egypt and Saudi Arabia, where more groups sought more fundamentalist and theocratic approaches in society, viewing western influences as ruinous and harmful. Burke examines the Grand Mosque seizure in Saudi Arabia, as well the factors that led to the attack. Burke provides an efficient and helpful background on the Saudi royal family and its attempts to modernize the kingdom. However, we also learn that this event, along with the call to fight in Afghanistan, deeply impacted a young Osama bin Laden. Similar crackdowns on religious zealotry in  Egypt impacted a young doctor who would go on to infamy named Ayman al-Zawahiri, one of the leaders of al-Qaeda.

Burke’s book is a fascinating look at how the nature and goals of terrorism changed over time, moving from methods that involved press and publicity and used threats or the potential for violence to attain goals involving prisoner release or escape to more sympathetic lands, to increasing violence and destruction. Accompanying this shift from property and symbolic violence of destruction of corporate property like planes, we see how groups shifted from communist or socialist ideas to more fundamental religious ideas and goals, starting with the Iranian Revolution, and ultimately leading to the attacks of September 11^th. Burke’s history identifies the ideas of sacrifice and martyrdom, and how the war and violence in Beirut led to some of the most violent attacks on Americans in the 1980s. Burke not only provides a clear and detailed history of these groups and the events that shaped the conflicts of the 1960s and 1970s, but this book also helps readers better understand how these past events continue to reverberate and impact us today. Although Carlos features throughout the book, often collaborating with these various groups, Burke seems to place Carlos in a separate group that was more motivated by celebrity and money, seeking jobs to finance his expensive tastes in food, wine, cars, clothes, and women. It was interesting to see the contrast in how some of the groups often lived in harsh and impoverished conditions, readying themselves for battles, while Carlos and some other Europeans fought for different ideological motivations, often seeking more comfortable training stations. I really enjoyed this book and learned a great deal from it. The Revolutionists is a book that provides an incredibly detailed look at the various factions that shifted the nature of terrorism in the 1970s and 1980s, moving into more extreme actions to attain their goals. Highly recommended! 

Life Among the Bunnies: Violence and Creation in Mona Awad's We Love You, Bunny

 We Love You, Bunny by Mona Awad

We Love You, Bunny book cover

Author Mona Awad

Big thanks to Simon and Shuster and NetGalley for sending me an advanced copy of Mona Awad’s We Love You, Bunny. I haven’t read Bunny, Awad’s first book in this series that was wildly popular. I have previously read Rogue by Awad, which I absolutely loved. It was an atmospheric and mysterious book that dealt with grief and identity in creative and compelling ways. We Love You Bunny is described as both a prequel and a sequel, so reading Bunny first isn’t required, and I’m actually not sure how much it might enhance the reading of this book. I found We Love You, Bunny to be an enjoyable and entertaining book on one level, but it was also like a novel of ideas that uses symbolism, allusion, and satire in many ways to question the nature of writing, creativity, and even celebrity and success. I also felt like Rogue, this book also examines questions of identity, image, and violence, but in a much more explicit way. Nevertheless, Awad’s book is a great read that left me thinking and questioning about many of these themes and ideas, while also reminding me of many of the literary reference points throughout the book. It’s definitely not a book for everyone, but I think that English majors, fans of literature, those who work in higher education, and fans of horror will find much to enjoy with this book.

We Love You, Bunny tells the story of the hive mind of Bunnies, several women who are in an MFA program and have abducted one of their peers who published a book that seemed to satirize their program. Awad’s ability to create and convey the differences between these individuals who seemingly share a mind creates an interesting dynamic. I really appreciated her ability to create these nuanced differences and learn more about these characters, how they both conform to the Bunny hive mind, and how they deviate from it, seeking to differentiate themselves and find their voices, or as their writing teacher Ursula might say, tap their wounds to bleed out a story. Although I was never an MFA student, I could appreciate how these kinds of group dynamics unfold in a graduate program, especially one where the goal is to produce a master work. Another strong point of Awad’s book was her lampooning of the various styles and modalities as well as the different factions that arise in these programs. The differences between the Fictions and the Poets was humorous, although I wondered why the Poets were all men, and most of the Fictions were female. My favorite genre was Viktoria’s “Proems,” which were etched in glass. I only wish there were some sample Proems to read, but I suppose the medium is also integral to the meaning. Regardless, Awad’s characterization and how the fine line between admiration and jealousy arises during these intense moments of study is well done. I was reminded of Erikson’s ideas about identity and groups in adolescence, and how we often seek out groups and conform to these groups and lash out at differences to those who are different for a sense of security during these kinds of transitions. The Bunnies seem to find security in their group, and struggle with accepting those who are different. Furthermore, they see threats in patriarchal figures like Allan, their teacher whose critiques are too much for the Bunnies to bear. As a result of these critiques, the Bunnies develop their ultimate creation- Aerius, a man they’ve seemingly conjured and they can shape to fulfill their needs.

Aerius is another bright spot in this novel, whose resemblance to the actor “Jacob Chamalord” presents some opportunities for others to recognize him on campus. I found Aerius’s encounter with a visual arts student to be one of the funniest parts of the book, as his cubist style represents Aerius like a violin throughout the book. Much of the book is told between Aerius’s and the Bunnies’ perspectives, allowing us to view the creation, subjugation, and education of Aerius from different perspectives. Aerius’s narration is also incredible. I loved his fresh view of the world, his unique language and descriptions of the Bunnies (Murder Fairy, Goldy Cut), and his encounters with others like the Poets. I’m still making sense of the book’s different themes related to creation, destruction, and violence, and it’s one of those books that would be ideal for a dedicated book club or a course where there are opportunities to revisit passages, events, and descriptions to further analyze their meaning. There are references to Poe and Shelley’s Frankenstein throughout the book, but there are also references to other iterations of the monster including the more popular Universal-Karloff monster and The Bride of Frankenstein. I could kind of see this as having to do with losing track of a creation, kind of like what happens with the Bunnies. I also wondered if there was some kind of meta-commentary on sequels and intellectual property, almost like this book is a sequel/prequel. It seemed like the Bunnies wanted badly to create something as great as Sam’s work, yet their own creation gets out of hand. It is both their own, but not their own, and they grapple with the new life it takes on, seemingly unable to accept its own actions and trajectory. I wondered whether Awad was commenting on how some writers might be driver to create products or something to generate continued acclaim rather than focusing more on authentic creation. As the Bunnies resort to magic for their creation, it seems like they are unable or unwilling to tap their own wounds, and maybe because of their privilege, they misconstrue this kind of message. The Poets were also funny as well, and Aerius’s interactions with their mentor were some of the funniest in the book. I also kept thinking about Ralph Ellison’s book Invisible Man, which also has to do with identity, and is itself a kind of novel of ideas that takes place in academia, although in the 1930s. As the narrator continues to encounter characters and situations that further shape his identity and social learning, we see how he gradually becomes exhausted with ideas of equality and academics, learning more from those outside of the school than within. Aerius also seems to learn more once he is free from his captors, but it seems like those within academia never really learn anything or are able to teach others. I wondered if there was some commentary here as well about the limitations of higher education, especially around creative areas like writing, poetry, and art. Maybe the references to American Psycho say something more about the desire for commercial or material success, as the future iterations of Aerius end up looking more like Patrick Bateman or some students from finance. There’s a lot to question and explore in this novel. I always enjoy reading those kinds of challenging novels that make me think and question, but I know that not everyone likes them. Nevertheless, Awad has written a unique novel that both challenges and entertains, that elicits laughter and gasps at some of the shocking violence and horror. It’s a great novel, but maybe not for everyone. It made me appreciate Awad’s writing much more since We Love You, Bunny is a much different novel from Rogue. However, this novel has also made me want to read Bunny even more to spend some more time at Warren among the Bunnies and learn more about Sam. Highly recommended! 

Contributing to the Godzilla Canon: Mothra Queen of the Monsters by Sophie Campbell

 Godzilla Legends-- Mothra: Queen of the Monsters  by Sophie Campbell

Mothra: Queen of the Monsters cover

Artist and author Sophie Campbell

Many thanks to IDW Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy Godzilla Legends—Mothra: Queen of the Monsters by Sophie Campbell. I was really excited to find this addition to the Godzilla canon, especially since the story adheres to many of the ideas from the original Mothra film, yet updates them in a compelling and creative manner. However, what sticks out most to me is the incredibly colorful and captivating artwork from Sophie Campbell and Matt Frank. The color scheme is apt- bright colors for the monsters, especially Mothra, while the evil monsters, Antra and Omegaguirus, have darker, gray hues with purple and red around their outer edges. Campbell also uses a dark, drab color scheme to depict the lack of life on Earth, and this is contrasted with the lush greens and blues seen in other periods of time where the sisters travel to retrieve a Mothra egg to bring back to the present. The story has a lot of dichotomous contrasts represented by the sisters’ opposing styles, as well as other dichotomies like the different time periods, the twin priestesses, and the good and evil kaiju. Furthermore, Mira, the more hopeful and excited sister, has been the caretaker for the Shobijin, the twin priestesses who have a connection with Mothra. As Mira explains, Mothra’s energy is dwindling, and if Mothra dies, the Earth, too, will suffer, being overtaken by the evil kaiju. The only hope is to travel back in time to retrieve the egg that will allow Mothra to continue to inhabit the Earth and defend people against the evil Kaiju. Furthermore, Emi and Mira, despite their differences and past trauma, must learn to work in harmony and accept one another to make their mission work and end up in the right places. I liked how these dualities operated in the story, how Campbell and Frank present them with contrasting color schemes, and how the sisters learn to work together despite their differences. However, I really enjoyed that this story adhered to the original framework of the Mothra story, yet cleverly integrated some new and interesting ideas to make it fresh and unique. In addition, Mothra engages in a series of training battles with other Kaiju, and these monsters are also creative and colorful.

This was a fun edition and addition to the Godzilla canon, adding some cool kaiju and a compelling story about Mothra, Queen of the Monsters. I really liked the dichotomies in the story, and how the story itself is a straightforward story about how people can come together to solve a problem to improve their world. What stands out most in this collection, though, is Campbell’s and Frank's excellent, colorful, and creative artwork. As I was reading Mothra, my daughter kept peeking over and was interested in Mothra’s bright colors and her transformation from larvae to moth, as well as her battles with the other kaiju. She also liked the focus on Emi and Mira as protagonists in the story. Godzilla Legends—Mothra: Queen of the Monsters is a fun and engaging story with incredible artwork that makes the story even more compelling. There are also some other illustrations by Matt Frank, Noah Cortez, Miki Ramirez, Nicole Goux, Elizabeth Beals, Roberto Rivera Padro, Jake Smith, Tom Whalen and Samantha Wright in this edition as well that are also great. I’m hoping that maybe these are indicative of future stories and adventures that Mothra, Emi, and Mira will have. Highly recommended! 

Combining Genres Godzilla Heist by Van Jensen illustrated by Kelsey Ramsay

 Godzilla Heist by Van Jensen, 

illustrated by Kelsey Ramsay

Godzilla Heist cover

Author Van Jensen

Illustrator Kelsey Ramsay

Many thanks to IDW Publishing and NetGalley for sharing an advanced copy of Godzilla Heist by Van Jensen and illustrated by Kelsey Ramsay. I was excited to find this graphic novel since I love a good Godzilla story, and I haven’t come across too many Godzilla graphic novels. This one particularly piqued my interest since it situates Godzilla in a crime caper. I wondered how exactly the author might synthesize two different genres of film- Kaiju monster movies and crime/heist stories, into one graphic novel series. This edition is a digital version that collects 5 issues of the story into one volume. The story follows Jai, a thief who primarily works alone and has developed a system of drones and has harnessed the power of neutrinos to capture Godzilla’s attention and might, allowing Jai to create distractions and destruction while he makes off with the loot. It’s a little far-fetched since it doesn’t seem like Godzilla can really be controlled, and Jai doesn’t seem to be in complete control of Godzilla, but nevertheless, he uses the King of Monsters to his advantage. Word gets around the criminal underground, and Jai is abducted by a mysterious group of mercenaries who only refer to one another by Greek alphabet names like Kappa, Pi, and Alpha. They have a plan to attack a highly secure and secretive site using Jai’s methods. This is where the story breaks down a little. For one, we don’t learn too much about this crew, and I found it somewhat hard to differentiate them. I wish there was more time to learn about their backstory or their motivations or at least have some of the characters stand out a little more than others. We do learn a little more about how Jai came to understand the power of Godzilla, but it also seems a little far-fetched and this backstory is not developed in depth. In fact, one of the issues starts with this backstory, although we aren’t told about its connection until later in the story. I found that kind of narrative disruption a little confusing. As other reviewers have mentioned, the story gets a little muddled with betrayals and crossings, but I ultimately wondered why the crew wanted to rob this site. Their motivations were unclear. It didn’t seem like it was monetary, but it also didn’t seem political. I wish there was more explanation and development of the crew to better understand their motivations for this heist. Although the story elements were underdeveloped, it’s still a fun read to envision Godzilla partnering with a thief to travel around the world, robbing lucrative sites. The artwork by Kelsey Ramsay is pretty good too, especially the panels that detail Godzilla attacking. I hope that there will be some more adventures or issues featuring Godzilla working with Jai. I wondered whether they will continue their collaborations, or if this is it for the big guy. The end of this edition includes some cool imagined Godzilla movie posters by Pablo Tunica, including some that look like a take on Reservoir Dogs, The Fast and the Furious, and Mission: Impossible. 

Documenting the Trials and Tribulations of Adolescence from a Native American Perspective: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian

 The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian by Sherman Alexie

The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian book cover

Author Sherman Alexie

I just finished Sherman Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian, and I’m so disappointed that I only just read this book now. A good friend of mine had recommended this book several times, and I used to teach Alexie’s story “This is What in Means to Say Phoenix, Arizona,” but I cannot believe that it has taken me nearly 18 years to encounter this book. The short story was definitely one of the highlights of my short story unit, as the two characters Victor and Thomas, share a strange journey to retrieve Victor’s father’s body. There’s so much great dialogue and humor for a story about death and fractured family relationships. My students would often laugh at Alexie’s word play between the two characters and the critiques of history and racism he routinely lobs throughout the story. I didn’t even realize that this was the basis for Smoke Signals until I started reading the story to prepare for class. Nevertheless, there’s definitely some shared themes and tones between the story and the book. However, I kept thinking that Junior and Rowdy were the kinds of characters I would have loved to encounter when I was a younger reader, and I think this would be a great book to teach, especially for some reluctant male readers, who I would also imagine that they might identify with Junior’s thoughts and experiences throughout the book. I actually read it along with my son, who was looking for a book to read. I got tired of him reading the same Diary of a Wimpy Kid and Big Nate books. The book has some controversy about it—Junior is an adolescent boy who experiences a lot of challenges with his growth and development. Some of the passages were a little cringeworthy with allegations leveled at Alexie. Nevertheless, Junior’s story of leaving the Rez to attend a predominantly white and affluent school speaks to a lot of adolescents’ experiences with leaving the comfort of their family to search for their identity. However, Alexie’s perspective as an Indian allows readers to learn and attempt to understand how Junior’s own experience and the racism, both casual and overt, he experiences impacts his encounters with the white world. I loved his resilience and his continued efforts to be authentic, having others accept him as is. We also learn about Junior’s thoughts and emotions as he encounters some particularly challenging aspects of life that not all adolescents face. There are several deaths throughout the book, and as Junior notes, like many Indians, he’s attended more than 40 funerals. Despite all of these challenges, Junior faces them with humor and acceptance, often leaning on his community, whether it is his family or his newfound community of friends at Reardon, his new high school. One of the coolest points of the book is when Junior is confused about his feelings for Penelope, a popular and pretty white classmate. He asks another white friend, Gordy, to do some research about being in love with a white girl. Gordy’s search yields information about the Missing and Murdered Indigenous Women Movement, and it’s a great way to raise awareness about how society often overlooks crimes against women of color, and how there are so many missing and murdered indigenous women in areas like Washington state, as well as Mexico, where Gordy is researching. I loved how Alexie enables Junior’s presence to raise awareness and learn more about people and cultures that are often left out of headlines and textbooks. The sections detailing Junior’s basketball games and his friendship and eventual competition with Rowdy are also some of the best parts of the book, and it’s also some of the elements that will be most appealing to reluctant male readers. Alexie captures some great aspects of the games and presents them in an entertaining and exciting manner.

This edition comes with great illustrations that allow readers to better understand Junior’s worldview. I loved the illustrations and how they complemented Junior’s thinking and perspectives about the world he encounters. However, the 10^th edition that I read also included a moving note from Alexie about the inspiration for the character of Rowdy. I won’t spoil too much about it, but if you happen to be able to read this edition, please do read this bonus content, especially this note from Alexie about his friend Randy J. Peone, who inspired the character of Rowdy. It’s a beautiful, funny, and elegiac piece of writing that was both touching and sad to read after this book. I highly recommend Alexie’s The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. It’s one of those essential adolescent texts like Cisneros’ House on Mango Street and Saligner’s Catcher in the Rye, that presents the challenges and struggles of adolescence in a touching, natural and relevant manner, providing some reassurance for teens and some reminders to adults, parents, and teachers about what a difficult but important time this can be.