I wrote this in August 2012: This is a very moving book by Calvin College English Professor Gary Schmidt that should be up for Printz and National Book awards. It's about the redemptive power of art in the face of trauma. It's also about the healing power of teaching, and about writing; all the characters are sharply etched, the dialogue is spot on, it's wrenchingly sad and also very funny, but is especially moving as Schmidt examines (through the teaching of an artist-librarian) the composition of some Audubon bird drawings that serve as a model for the mc to reflect on both art and life. This process of seeing and drawing in this book is especially moving, touching, at times thrilling. I have problems with a couple events I don't quite believe, but Schmidt is great after having convinced us of the power of artistic composition, that we see HIS composition, how all the parts fit, how they speak to each other. A central character here we really fall in love with, too. Great book, highly recommend.
In June 2015 I reread it with a YAL summer class, so I'll say a bit more (but maybe don't read my review until you have read the book, I'd say); in a way it's more note-taking about what the book means for me:
I forgave Schmidt the first time through for what I saw as a tiny "mistake," his having American liberal anti-war types spit on legless Chris as he returns home, saying they are happy he is disabled, having done the same to VietCong babies, and so on. I thought that was a mistake and I still do. Or, I disagree with him, having lived through that period, that this would have happened, and maybe I'm just more liberal, but I also just don't believe it. It's a small thing in the book.
In the improbability category I can also list a few other things, but I feel differently about them: A drunken father so cruel he has "Mama's Boy" tattooed on his son's chest; myriad improbable human turnarounds (how is it abusive Dad suddenly changes, and why, and is this consistent with what we know about him as a character and about abuse in general?), and just how is it Lil, a girl with no acting experience, gets a plumb part in a Broadway show where she plays a character from Jane Eyre much like her own story!, and how is it, when on opening night Lil goes ill, does Hero Doug get to play the part of this same girl and does it to thunderous applause? And also Joe Pepitone, Doug's 60s Yankees hero, shows up for his one performance??! Come on! How can I justify saying a book like this book is still awesome?!
I'll answer that question, and take my sweet time, thank you. I'm willing to accept such apparent narrative silliness because these moments and moves happen in the context of Doug, our narrator, reading 19th century gothic melodrama Jane Eyre, with all of its elements of romance, comedy and tragedy. The centerpiece of the book is Doug's exploring with artist-librarian Mr. Powell principles of composition in drawing through analysis and imitation of Audubon's (19th century) Birds of America, drawings of birds that apply almost equally to his (Schmidt's/Doug's) own craft of writing a somewhat comically melodramatic children's novel. Such principles include a repetition of language and images: A precise balancing of structural elements that identify it as genre; elision (leaving things out so the reader/viewer can create her own images in the text), analogical thinking (vs. "objective" analysis; both Audubon and Schmidt invite us to emotionally engage with their art, to read the world/Doug's life/our bodies/our lives through what we experience).
The analysis of each drawing (which appear at the beginning of each chapter) is often like the drawings themselves breathtaking in their details and connections to life. Very moving, almost always. Sometimes downright breathtaking. I'm not lying, as Doug says. The art and Doug's engagement with it is the centerpiece of Doug's experience, his reclamation, his turn from jerk to good, and this is the book's centerpiece for us as well, the site of Schmidt's central teaching about reading art and literature. This writing has no silliness or improbability in it whatsoever. Jane Eyre, Birds of America and Okay for Now have this in common, that they are grounded in 19th-century romanticism and are great works that honor that tradition. Or maybe call it fantasy, a hope for a world where these things may indeed happen.
So, Okay for Now operates in the context of 19th century melodrama. Doug reads emotional excess in Audubon, and I think it is there, but it is surely there in Jane Eyre, which Doug is reading in English class. The text he "writes," as first person narrator of this tale, imitates Bronte's tale in form and content and it draws on Audubon's dramatic drawings of birds. Schmidt, a medievalist in his scholarly life and a teacher still of British literature, urges us to read such texts closely, caring about the forms in which they are written, but also teaches us to read with one's life in part through these texts.
Direct addresses to the reader are a dimension of Bronte's text that deliberately invite us to imagine and live in that story--"And reader: I married him"--and Schmidt does the same with his story. "Dear reader, I kissed her. You know what that feels like?" Schmidt shows us that the best romantic tales invite us into the story. We are meant to be part of them, emotionally.
Bronte's story is less comic than Okay For Now, of course. Okay, like Eyre, has plenty of painful and melodramatic and even tragic elements, but it is balanced in Okay by the comedic on almost every page. We balance painful realism with hope throughout. This is the kid book aspect of it, too, of course, but it helps see how a British lit scholar can also be a kid book author. Just when we think Schmidt is being too harsh, too graphically bitter in his depiction of Doug's life, we are treated to something wonderful, fabulous, some moment of goodness, his mother's magical smile, just spectacular.
In the end of the book great and terrible things happen rapid-fire, as in any melodrama or comedy or fantasy, but we accept these events, we celebrate them, we laugh, we cry, because that's what happens in such books that remind us of hope and beauty as both real even in the face of real tragedies. Yes, there are fantastical elements in gothic romances, but also in children's books, and fantasy, that are essentially acts of hope. They can change us even loosely tethered to "reality," (whatever that is).
Yep, dear reader, I wept, and in reading a children's book, and several times, though less about Doug's sad life than his encounters with beauty, which as a reader and writer and teacher of literature I found beautiful and true. This book is about what the world is like because the world is inhabited by terrible things like war that takes your brother's legs, terrible people (like Doug's Dad, and the many high school kids that bully and beat Doug up), but it is also what we hope the world can become through love and attention to beauty.
One narrative compositional balance: Throughout Doug observes that just when things are going pretty good, something bad starts to happen. But of course that means the opposite is also true in this story, and this little roller coaster ride about the ups and downs of life is ultimately structurally satisfying and beautiful. Doug's relationship with Lil is also a romance, like Jane Eyre, though also like Jane Eyre this romance has its ups and downs. Some romances are happy, some sad, though both directions can satisfy in their own ways. You think it's sappy? Well, you need to see this story just as any story in the context of principles of composition within a genre, including children's literature, and YA romance. This book teaches without being didactic, and what it teaches about genre, and historical context, is in the best sense of what it might mean to learn about the world and art and literature. It's as all good books and art are, about the importance of close and passionate reading and interpreting the world. Oh, and this is a book about Doug's becoming a reader of art and literature as we are becoming that as Schmidt teaches us to read.
Doug, in making the (okay, somewhat improbable) and "romantic" effort to restore the Audubon book to its original form, operates according to another principle of composition: The attempt to restore wholeness, which also applies to attempts to mend broken lives like Doug's. To seek beauty in whatever forms we might find it and to understand that this is an aesthetic and life goal is to live with humor and hope. To choose to be good versus choosing to be a jerk in this world is not a trivial pursuit. Goodness matters, empathy matters, as we proceed through increasing crises on this planet.
Reading and art are not trivial pursuits, either. Okay for Now teaches us to pay attention, as all great art and literature does. It teaches us to care about the ways we go about crafting our art and life in useful and meaningful ways. Finally, I think this is a classic children's/tween/YA/all ages book (like all the greats, like Wrinkle in Time--does an age category finally matter?) one of the very, very best works I have read. I'm not lying.