Books

Modern Romance

Rainbow Rowell Pisses Off Conservatives and Thrills Young Readers

Modern Romance
+ Enlarge this Image
+ Enlarge this Image

Rainbow Rowell is having a hell of a year. The Nebraska author was banned from an appearance at the Anoka County Library in Minnesota because her young adult novel Eleanor & Park, which was published earlier this year, contains instances of the word "fuck." It's not just that the so-called Parents Action League got the library to pull Rowell's speaker's fee—Rowell told the Omaha World-Herald that she offered to do the event for free—but she was flatly told not to come. The League went on to complain that the book was, according to the World-Herald's Erin Grace, "'pornographic,' 'sexually explicit,' and too controversial for even a teenage audience."

Of course, that kind of talk inspires people to really, really want to read the book.

Turns out, Eleanor & Park isn't nearly as salacious as the Parents Action League would have you believe. It's a fairly innocent romance, a story of a single year in the very first relationship between two Nebraskan high-school outcasts. In fact, Rowell's writing could use a bit more Judy Blume–style oomph: Her novels suffer from the weird 21st-century American Puritanism that's permeated popular culture, wherein it's fine for characters to behave in a sexy manner and to drop the fuck-word with impunity, but actual scenes of actual human sex never actually happen.

If Rowell continues to accumulate eager teenage readers—more about them presently—she owes it to those kids to be earnest and honest about sexual matters. Wouldn't any thinking American rather have children learn about sex from books than from movies? Didn't Blume teach several generations to be more honest, more generous, and more intelligent about sex than ever? Maybe most importantly: Wouldn't frank descriptions of what it's like for a pair of kids to have sex for the first time really drive regressive pricks like the Parents Action League right up the fucking wall?

Setting that large and surly quibble aside, there's a lot to love about Eleanor & Park. Everything about the burgeoning romance rings with the awkward and beautiful resonance of truth. Eleanor is a believable outcast, not a Hollywood-style beautiful quirky girl who just needs to take off her clunky glasses to reveal herself as prom queen. And her relationship with the similarly ignored Park begins believably: They read comic books together, forging chains of nerdy love. (The book is set in the 1980s, when nerds are still treated as pariahs if they're spotted in public with Star Wars paraphernalia.) Those who were embarrassed by the treacly swooning of Twilight will find a lot to love here.

Rowell doesn't shy away from darkness. Eleanor is on the cusp of homelessness, and her mother is dating an abusive jackass. The secret that threads itself through the story eventually brings the whole romance crashing down as Eleanor's situation becomes dire. This isn't feel-good tragedy tourism; it's honest and avoids pat conclusions, which is exactly what young adult fiction should be.

Rowell's newest novel, Fangirl, is about a young woman named Cather who heads to college with her cooler twin sister, only to ostracize herself from pretty much everyone. She's afraid to ask where the dining hall is, so she makes do on protein bars, she worries about how her single dad is doing back at home, and she increasingly relies on the only real success she enjoys, as a popular-but-anonymous fan-fiction writer specializing in a Harry Potter–ish analogue. Cather struggles with authenticity as a writer whose most original creations use characters borrowed from another author. Mental illness, substance abuse, and, of course, the quest to find love are addressed along the way, with the same careful consideration that Rowell showed in Eleanor & Park.

But maybe the most exciting thing about Fangirl is the reception it received. Earlier this fall, the book was chosen as the first selection in Tumblr's Reblog Book Club program. Reading through reader responses on the central site, reblogbookclub.tumblr.com, demonstrates how Rowell inspires young readers. Book club members respond to Fangirl in the emotive language of social media ("OKAY. That's just freaking adorable. Rainbow Rowell is so good at making me feel all giddy at little moments like these. I. CAN'T. EVEN. RIGHT. NOW.") Sometimes, they react by uploading GIFs of Darth Vader, Ryan Gosling, and Benedict Cumberbatch acting out the emotions the book has inspired in them. They talk about fanfic, and whether it's a legitimate art form. They post drawings of Fangirl's characters. They interact with the author. They highlight their favorite quotes and take pictures of themselves drinking Cather's favorite coffee drink. The blog goes on for 49 pages like that, full of creativity and criticism and conversations and outright fangirling. I'm not going to pretend this sort of reaction to and interaction with a text is new, but it is gloriously, proudly public. Compared to the small-minded, hateful actions of a handful of regressive jerks like the Parents Action League, the love shown by these readers for Rowell's words feels joyous, like a happy ending. recommended

 

Comments (6) RSS

Oldest First Unregistered On Registered On Add a comment
Indighost 1
I'm going to commit a sin here and judge a book by its cover. Brace yourself.

I've heard great things about Rainbow Rowell's writing. I've also read a plot summary of "Fangirl". And I agree with her main point, fanfiction is derivative, inferior to original work, and will always be a little pathetic in a way. But here's my concern:

The book seems like a didactic lesson: Don't be a geek, nobody likes them, because their hobbies are unpopular, and sooner or later geeks have to grow up or else they'll just be losers.

If pop culture followed some set of rules aside from raw popularity, then maybe she would be right. But ultimately I don't think that's the case. Popular stuff like golf, football, romantic comedies etc. is just popular by chance.

Perhaps it conveys a raw social relatability advantage to abandon one's nerdy hobbies in favor of popular pursuits. But it is better absolutely?
Posted by Indighost on November 22, 2013 at 1:17 PM · Report this
2
Parents Action League. Homophobic, racist, neanderthals. If only families would sit down and have discussions about religion and politics and growing up in a disfunctional political environment, only then will we have the young voters that can make up their own minds about how they want their country to be.
Posted by longwayhome on November 22, 2013 at 8:29 PM · Report this
Supreme Ruler Of The Universe 3

Sounds like a job for Flirty Harry:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=76I0EgVTr…

Posted by Supreme Ruler Of The Universe http://www.you-read-it-here-first.com on November 24, 2013 at 3:16 PM · Report this
4
Paul, I think you might like her first novel - Attachments - as well. Another relationship story, but told via multiple perspectives, many digital. Similar in that form to "Where'd you go, Bernadette", but a much sweeter style.
My daughter turned me onto her - another bonus of having her. Great kid and I love that she loves reading.
Posted by DawginExile on November 24, 2013 at 3:40 PM · Report this
5
I Found this novel to be incredibly refreshing in in it's frankness. Sure we didn't get a front row seat to any copulation but there were plenty of moments where we witnessed an honesty about teenage life that is even more absent from YA fiction than sex. Race, weight, family, sexual dynamics that felt more authentic than anything I've read in YA fiction in some time. Recommended for any thoughtful child who is entering middle school who wants to see how the big kids roll.
Posted by jnonymous on November 24, 2013 at 5:13 PM · Report this
6
I don't agree that Eleanor & Park was marred by pop-culture Puritanism. Not all high-schoolers are ready to have sex or do have sex (others are and do). Rowell made it plausible to me that mere physical contact was mindblowingly intense for these particular characters and they would not necessarily have had sex at that point in their lives (in Eleanor's case, especially given the sexualized creepiness that was one aspect of her stepfather's abuse).

Just because a Puritan streak exists within our culture does not make teenage sex more realistic than the alternative, or oblige an author to write teenage sex scenes. I want to read books with characters behaving in recognizably human (i.e., psychologically plausible) ways, not books contrived for the purpose of driving random scolds up the wall.
Posted by Pierrot Lunaire on November 26, 2013 at 12:41 PM · Report this

Add a comment