You probably know what your animal sign is (calculator here, if you don’t), and wikipedia does a reasonable job of summarizing each animal’s characteristics. Although I have only a passing curiosity in astrology, I began to wonder what zodiac animal Mary Quinn is. Although her precise date of birth is unknown, she was born in 1841, making her an Ox. (Probably. If she was born before January 25, 1841, though, she’d be a Rat.)

So if you’re a believer in Chinese astrology, you’d say that Mary Quinn should be “dependable, ambitious, calm, methodical, born leader, patient, hardworking, conventional, steady, modest, logical, resolute, and tenacious. Can be stubborn, dogmatic, hot-tempered, narrow-minded, materialistic, rigid, and demanding” (description from wikipedia). Hm. I don’t see “impatient” in that list of traits…

As for James Easton, he was born in the summer of 1839, making him a Pig. (Mary could have told you that the first time they met, right?) Apparently, pigs are “honest, gallant, sturdy, sociable, peace-loving, patient, loyal, hard-working, trusting, sincere, calm, understanding, thoughtful, scrupulous, passionate, and intelligent. Can be naïve, over-reliant, self-indulgent, gullible, fatalistic, and materialistic.” Again, the description misses one of James’s main characteristics: arrogance. Tsk, tsk.

What’s your astrological sign, and how accurate do you think it is?

In this world, however, we have six bookcases and they are crammed. There are stacks of books on the piano. There are more in the bedroom. There are yet more in the living room, and have I mentioned the study, the bathroom (repository of magazines), and the kids’ room? It’s time to purge.

Happily, books have more lives than cats. A few of mine will go to friends and neighbours. Most will go to my local library’s Neverending Book Sale, which fundraises for the library. But still, it hurts.

I love paper books because they contain powerful memories of when I acquired them (I’ll never part with the first book my husband ever gave me – Middlemarch – although I have 2 other editions of the same book), my priorities at the time (a hideous and battered 1970s paperback copy of The French Lieutenant’s Woman reminds me how tight my budget was as I began my fourth year as an undergrad), and where I read them (a train ticket from Manchester to London is a bookmark that reminds me of what I was reading on our last trip to England).

Some books are easier to shed: literary theory that I held on to, because I couldn’t quite believe I’d escaped the academy; books I haven’t thought about in years; books I know I’ve read but whose content has leaked from my brain. But for the most part, getting rid of books feels like an eviction. I hope the little darlings (even the ones I disliked and disrespected) don’t take it personally. And I hope they find new homes soon. But they’ve got to go.

How do you manage your book collections? And how do you feel about getting rid of books?

All around the mulberry bush

The monkey chased the weasel.

The monkey thought it was all in fun,

Pop! goes the weasel.

A penny for a spool of thread,

A penny for a needle,

That’s the way the money goes.

Pop! goes the weasel.

But then I got thinking about the British version, which is the one my husband grew up singing:

Half a pound of tuppenny rice,

Half a pound of treacle.

That’s the way the money goes,

Pop! goes the weasel.

Up and down the City Road,

In and out the Eagle,

That’s the way the money goes,

Pop! goes the weasel.

If you’re as history-obsessed as I am, you will found yourself looking for meaning even in traditional children’s songs. The explanation I like best involves, coincidentally, the Victorian period. If you know that “pop” is a slang term for “to pawn” and that “weasel” is Cockney rhyming slang for “coat”, then the lyrics suddenly make sense. This isn’t just an odd little nursery rhyme featuring lively weasels; it’s about grinding urban poverty. Go ahead, check it out!

This grittiness makes me like the song even more. How about you?

Anyway, this week’s blog post, Rebels with a Cause, is part of YABookReads’s Historical Fiction vs Dystopia showdown. Among other things, I argue that “History is about competing stories, rival interpretations, and detective work.” Much as I enjoy dystopia, I think we all know which genre will prevail.

And look! It’s an Agency collage!

by Zoë Lehoux, age 11

I love that Zoë sought out an image of Mary’s jade pendant (near the top, left of centre). What do you think? Is it like you imagined? Thank you for letting me share your hard work, Zoë!

Commenter [about Pink’s video “Stupid Girls”]: Stupid girls? I hardly think girls choosing to conform to society’s norms are stupid. It’s their choice whether they wish to lead or be led. That’s a point of character not everyone thinks like you. And I don’t see girls brooding over the fact that they have to wear tights as fashion dictates. They seem to actually like being part of the normal fashionable crowd. And from what I’ve heard from a teacher and girl, they wear it to attract boys.

Ying: The idea of freedom of choice is a tricky one. We consider ourselves to be independent, thinking individuals with a range of options. Yet we don’t choose in a vacuum; we’re influenced by thousands of factors in our environments, our histories, and our characters. People (not just girls) may choose whether “they wish to lead or be led”, but that apparently simple choice is deceptive. We choose (or are influenced) at every moment; not every choice is conscious; and although we can justify our “choices” as much as we please, it’s foolish to deny that we’re influenced by our surroundings. I think that’s what Pink is getting at, in a crude way. One can “choose” to act/dress like a so-called “stupid girl”, but whatever the decision, the “stupid girl” image exists and it is powerful.

And “they wear it to attract boys”? A lot of girls – “stupid” or not – would disagree with this. Many would say that they’re doing it for themselves, not others. We’re back to the problem of “choice”, all over again.

C: [about Katie Makkai's poem, "Pretty", included in the "Pretty Pink Girl" post] That Katie Makkai person seems to be going through PMS, because I don’t see why the faults of a single mother should indict our society and media as brainwashing the youth.

Y: Three points, here. First, Katie Makkai is a performance artist and in that video she’s performing anger, not going off on an uncontrolled rant. This is key. Second, the accusation of PMS is based on crude stereotypes and bad science. Not all women experience PMS; of those who do, it doesn’t necessarily manifest as emotional imbalance. Third, Makkai is making a point about physical perfection. Her poem is less about a specific mother and more about the pressure to be pretty – however one defines and tries to achieve it. The mother in the poem is a symbol.

C: Were educated enough to see through [media brainwashing], if anything my one blaring memory of high school was our teachers warning us about the evils of media. Were well informed to make our own choices, if some girl or guy decides to start obsessing about attaining some picture of perfection in her head then that’s her fault for not having the sense to see through it.

Y: Again, we consider ourselves sophisticated and media-savvy but studies continue to demonstrate that we fall for marketing guff all the time. It works. That’s why marketers spend so much money on it. When blaming individuals “for not having the sense to see through it”, we’re blaming the victim – a person who is clearly less savvy than we consider ourselves. Do we just leave the naïve to fend for themselves and congratulate ourselves on our superior intelligence? I hope not.

C: But I’m kind of envious of women, you certainly have more choices that us guys that’s for sure.

Y: That’s something that needs to change, too. I want to live in a world where men and women have equal numbers of genuine choices.

C: Men on the other hand well…you can say the days of male domination are at an end.

Y: The statistics – on salaries, on domestic violence, on gender imbalance in positions of power – say otherwise. Have you seen the Daniel Craig/Judi Dench short film commissioned for this year’s International Women’s Day?

C: Though I don’t mind homosexuals I’m just not comfortable with them, which I think is the norm among men. It’s just not natural (And hence why I’m a part of the bigger problem too, lol). I can see my ignorance but I can’t deal with it, its just the way things really are.

Y: It’s difficult grappling with prejudice, and acknowledging one’s ignorance is the first step in dealing with it. But the idea of something being “natural” is itself an illusion. There’s a long list of things that were formerly thought “natural” – from the sun orbiting the earth to white-skinned people being more intelligent than others – that we now know to be utter nonsense. What we consider “natural” is specific to our time, place, and culture.

Whew. And now back to you, readers. I look forward to your comments.

In this case, a Facebook friend shared a link to a terrific slam-poetry performance. Then I read Peggy Orenstein’s Cinderella Ate My Daughter. After that, generous friends gave us 3 enormous bags of sweet, tasteful, hand-me-down clothes.

And you know what? Our girl isn’t even born and I’m already experiencing Pink & Pretty overload. I avoid the pink aisles in children’s stores. I know that Barbies, Bratz, and yet more bumptious dolls await. And I’ve noticed that clothing for small girls is relentlessly – even furiously – feminine: pink and purple, frills and tucks, flowers and hearts. Depending on the day, I sigh, shudder, or rant.

What I’m less certain of is why this bothers me so. Little boys are equally stereotyped: blue and more blue, trucks and dinosaurs, “action figures” (can’t call them dolls, or society will collapse!) and toy guns. But to me this seems less dangerous, less toxic, less generally loathesome. Also, less compulsory. Am I under- or over-estimating boys, or being unfair to them in some way?

These questions churned in my brain as I read Cinderella Ate My Daughter. The pretty/pink conundrum torments Orenstein, too, as you’ll see if you read her book (I recommend it). And here’s where I think Orenstein really gets it right. She says:

It would be disingenuous to claim that Disney Princess diapers or Ty Girlz or Hannah Montana or Twilight or the latest Shakira video or a Facebook account is inherently harmful. Each is, however, a cog in the round-the-clock, all-pervasive media machine aimed at our daughters – and at us – from womb to tomb; one that, again and again, presents femininity as performance, sexuality as performance, identity as performance, and each of those traits as available for a price. It tells girls that how you look is more important than how you feel. More than that, it tells them that how you look is how you feel, as well as who you are.

That’s it, right there – the core of my anxieties, uncovered.

And the slam-poetry performance I mentioned earlier? It’s Katie Makkai’s “Pretty”. I think all girls should hear it – as mine will, one day. (Thanks, Coco.)

—

On a completely different subject, The Agency: A Spy in the House was recently shortlisted for an Agatha! These are readers’ choice awards (yes, named for Agatha Christie) and the members of Malice Domestic will vote for a winner at their April convention. (Check out the full shortlist here.) I’m so very honoured. Thank you, mystery fans!

Basically, I’m suspicious of the medium. Dedicated e-readers look frumpy, cumbersome, fragile. When I look at them, I think, “Landfill.” Smartphones are sleeker and newer iPads have some green credentials, but they’re still not that sustainable. Analyses vary, but the number I hear most is that you have to read at least 40 ebooks a year to outweigh the environmental cost of the same number of new paper books. (That’s if you believe the most-quoted figure.) For how many years? More than it takes to get the next generation e-reader, for sure.

I already spend my days on a laptop, drive a car, fly long distances to visit family, and eat for pleasure rather than sustenance. Sometimes, I slip carrot peelings into the garbage instead of the composter. And without going all Willy Loman on you, I’m putting off buying a dishwasher because new ones are designed to last only 6-8 years. I think I’m turning into a cranky hippie but basically, I dislike stuff.

So today, I’m thinking of things that need to happen before I’d want an e-reader or smartphone. My first device should:

- last more than 5 years

- be made without sweatshop labour

- be recyclable (and not just in theory)

- cost less energy to produce than, say, 25 paper books (roughly the number I bought new last year)

- be beautiful

And that’s excluding all the readerly functions I’d want: huge range of titles, full-text searchability, linked index, ability to turn more than one page at a time, proper illustrations.

What about you? What are your criteria for getting an e-reader? If you already have one, what persuaded you it was worthwhile?

In brief, though, lots of readers appear to believe that illegal downloads are “like a library card on the Internet”. There are lots of problems with this assumption and today I’m just going to pick at the 3 most basic:

1. Libraries buy books and lend them as a community service (paid for with your taxes). “Free ebook” sites steal books for personal profit.

2. When you borrow a library book, you agree to return it after a short period. You are under no obligation to return a stolen ebook.

3. Authors are paid for their work when libraries buy their books. Authors earn nothing from pirated ebooks.

Basically, downloading illegal copies of ebooks is theft. Authors who can’t get paid for their work may soon be out of work. Publishers who can’t earn back the cost of producing books may reduce the number of books they publish.

This is extremely simplistic, of course, and I hope you don’t feel personally patronized. But for much of yesterday’s Twitter discussion, this was the level of discourse and so I started with the basics.

And now I’m tired, and jaded, and these specious comparisons of book-thieves to librarians make me want to soothe my spirit at a real library: one with ebooks and traditional books, one staffed by smart, bookish people with plenty of great recommendations, one that’s a vibrant part of my community. I hope you’ll join me.

It’s true that Spy was first published in 2009 in the UK. But it was such a theoretical debut. I never saw it in the shops. I didn’t do any events because I was, well, here. So this is the year that things became real. The year I became, officially, a novelist. And oh, I’m sorry to see it go.

This is the year I met so many passionate readers and writers of YA fiction. The year I found an online community of bookish souls. The year I made friends with other working writers. The year I first read aloud my own prose to a crowd of people (then joked about it to the same crowd, just for fun). The year I received fan mail. The year someone looked at me in a store and asked, “Are you Y S Lee?” (True! It happened just this week.) The year I felt confident answering the “What do you do?” question with, “I write books.”

It’s been a rich, hectic, tumultuous, joyful year in so many other ways. I have tons to celebrate and even more to look forward to. But I’ll never have another year quite like this one. And right now, that feels bittersweet.

What did this year mean for you? And what are you looking forward to in 2011?

P.S. My last blog post of the year will be next week at the Book Smugglers and I’ll be running a little contest to celebrate. Join me then!