five stars, and heartstopping, not in the way other books on this shelf are, not in the way i meant heartstopping in my 20s, when i was drunk on fresh words and insights, roiling with potential, but heartstopping in the way of being known, being seen, being felt, feeling yourself on the page, the lump in your throat not because this is new but because it is familiar.
more tomorrow, but i guess all i'll say now is: if you're a woman; if you were in high school around y2k; if you have ever taught high school; please read this.
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okay i am back but i'll keep it brief:
Among many other things -- a phenomenal Canadian-Y2K-adolescence time capsule, a celebration of Indian culture outside of India, a brightly important addition to the conversation about sexual power and abuse, a nuanced and honest portrayal of millennial adulthood -- this is the best media representation of high school I've ever encountered.
That is: the best of all of it. Being a teenager and hating class but also falling in love with constructed facsimiles of your teachers. The pain (in this case, very deep) of realizing those facsimiles are real. Hazy, half-educational overnight trips to bigger cities (I can't express how realistic the Toronto band trip is --- absolutely spot the fuck on, like so much of this book). Obsessive friendship and the cycles of its loss.
And being in front of a classroom and hating yourself but also falling in love with constructed facsimiles of your students you're trying to convince yourself are real. The absolute pain when a class is just silent; the hard truth that a magic class is one of the best feelings you'll ever experience but that it also has nothing to do with you, is sheer luck. Second guessing everything, trying to protect everyone. The incessant drive for external validation, primarily from teenagers who can only validate what you represent to them. The grind, the unbelievable consumptive grind, of constant work that if you haven't taught, you frankly just can't understand. And so much more, just so much more, it almost hurts ---
I've typed this paragraph a few times and I just can't get to the point so --- the passages, the sections, where Nina is debating leaving teaching and then decides to go ---- I lived all of it, and I've never seen it expressed more truly and more devastatingly. Teaching is an impossible profession, and it is also the reason for many of the most alive moments of my life. I have lost all perspective on whether I was a good or bad teacher, if I ever had any, but I would not trade the experience of teaching high school for anything. And I would never go back.
Substance captures all this teaching and learning and schooling -- from the entire spectrum -- from the subtly changing voice of a girl growing up. My bias is pretty glaring, I realize, but I'll repeat pretty firmly that I've never encountered anything that's hit so firmly home before, in all the high school nostalgia media we all consume so frequently.
Whatever you feel or think about the book or the author: just don't doubt its realism, and don't doubt that Shashi Bhat is a fucking talent to have been able to capture it so gracefully.