Book Club Activity: 'Three Word Review' Video.

Another Book Club activity idea! The members in the book club I help run are aged 11/12. Older, surlier teens might not get wildly enthusiastic about this one.  

What you need:

• A Camera

• Squares of paper/Bright Felt tips

• Willing participants!

• A computer with basic movie editing software installed onto it. Most Windows and Apple laptops come with pre-installed programs. If you don’t like these, there are a few great alternatives – Google search (or y’know…Bing search. Whatever) ‘Free Movie Editing Software’.

So the idea was originally to video the students shouting out three words they felt would best describe their favourite book we’ve read so far. However as the microphone wasn’t brilliant on the camera I had, I took photos of them holding up a piece of card with a word on it instead. So three cards in all, per student (although some chose to do less). See an example below:

Sorry for the quality, it's mega zoomed in to edit out the student holding it!

For the more camera shy members in the group, I took a picture of their handwritten ‘single-word review’ card with the book that they had chosen to ‘review’. One pupil helped me with the photo-taking too. There’re lots of jobs for everyone, and if you did it with a tech-savvy group, you could off-load the editing job over to them too.

So I finally have all these photos. I download some suitably funky music – in this case ‘You can’t stop the Beat’ from Hairspray and, using a basic movie maker software, insert the photos so that they play in time to the music. I insert a little stop motion introduction, completed by myself, and some credits, making sure to include everyone who took part, not just the ones in the photos, and voila! One video!

It’s surprising how much they appreciated it. They all loved seeing the pictures of each other, and having a giggle at the dramatic members who had posed very stylishly, and I even got a round of applause at the end! If you run a book club, you should suggest doing something like this, as it’s quite simple to put together and is a good thing to watch for a more chilled out session. Whilst taking the photos, make sure you record what book each of the students are reviewing – otherwise you’re left with a load of pictures and no idea which book anyone is talking about!

Happy filming!

Over and out.

Hot off the Shelf: What I'm reading - 'Trainspotting' by Irvine Welsh.

No spoilers. Explicit Language.

I thought I'd enjoy this in the same way I enjoyed A Clockwork Orange. Interesting language devices, violence, drugs, an antihero that makes you really think about the human society etc.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. What's the book about? Well in a nutshell, it's almost a collection of short stories, revolving around the lives of a group living in Edinburgh who are all either on heroin, have other addictions. or are affected by those addicted. It covers all the typically associated - alcoholism, violence, HIV etc. It's mainly from the perspective of Mark Renton, or Rents, who tells us about his daily existence - on heroin and off - and about his interactions with his friends, other 'classes' of society and himself. However the story does occasionally switch to the POV of other characters, who are often introduced to the reader without any backstory or warning. This can get a little confusing. You have to be on the ball with this book. Not least because of the dialect.

As with the Nadsat in Orange, once you get into the Scottish dialect of Trainspotting, it's fairly easy to read. It just looks daunting initially. Top tip: Put aside at least half an hour to begin the book. It's not something I found easy to just 'dip into'. I needed time to get used to the way it was written, then I was away. A random example below:

"Naw but, listen the now. You jist think aboot it. In the army they dae everything fir they daft cunts. Feed thum, gie the cunts cheap bevvy in scabby camp clubs tae keep thum fae gaun intae toon n lowerin the fuckin tone, upsetting the locals n that. Whin they git intae civvy street, thuv goat tae dae it aw fir thumsells."

That's a fairly easy example. It's actually very clever and I wish I had the skills to be able to pull something like this off. Reading this book feels like your emotions are getting slapped with a wet, very Scottish, fish. You'll feel disgusted, you'll laugh, you'll feel actual scorn and hatred, you'll want to punch something and you'll want to hug the characters all within half an hour.

So what's got me essentially feeling a bit...meh, about Trainspotting. After all, it's hailed as a cult classic, "the voice of punk, grown up, grown wiser and grown eloquent". Danny Boyle made a film about it in 1996. I think I'll watch the film, as it will be interesting to see how some of the scenes play out onto screen. Fans rave about it the world over. So what on earth is my problem?

I just...didn't really get the point. Nothing had really changed by the end for most of the characters. I understand the message that the image of a classless society is a false one. I understand that it's making big points about reality and image. Everyone associated with Rents is messed up somehow. I understand the points it made...I just didn't care. Which sounds horrible. But there was no plot. No resolution, apart from the notion of escape at the very end. But it doesn't even put that across fully, as Rents will never really be free, because of the actions he performs at the end of the novel. I didn't care because a lot of the time, the character of Rents made me not care. I thought I'd feel the same way about Rents that I did about Alex in Orange- emotionally tied - thinking about the bigger moral picture. Maybe that's my problem, I'm trying too much to compare it to Orange. I just can't help it. They're similar, but Trainspotting just didn't leave me as thoughtful afterwards. I didn't really care what happened to Rents. He was a very selfish character. And I think that's what got to me the most. There was nothing to like him for because he cared for nothing and no-one really apart from the big H.

One thing I did like about Trainspotting was that it painted a very real, bleak and sometimes pure gross image of what taking drugs can do to a person. We're talking grim here. It didn't sugar coat anything. The times Rents talks about how heroin is the best thing since sliced bread:

“take your best orgasm, multiply the feeling by twenty, and you're still fuckin miles off the pace”

are really shot down by the picture painted of the aftermath and effects. If you're teen has just read Junk by Melvin Burgess and thinks that there's not really anything too bad that can happen if you take hard hitting drugs, because everything will turn out okay in the end, get them to read Trainspotting and they'll probably run a mile if offered.

Blah. This has been a very ranty review. I'm finding it difficult to put across my feelings for this one. I think it's worth a read. Because it will make everyone feel different things. It didn't offend me, it just wasn't my cup of tea. So, onwards we read.

Over and out.

Comics Unmasked at the British Library

A couple of Friday's ago I visited the British Library, to have a looksee at the ‘Comics Unmasked’ exhibition.

I can’t consider myself a comic fanatic. My experience thus far into comics includes Brian Lee O’Malley’s Scott Pilgrim series, a few Manga, Marjane Satrapi's Persepolis and more recently Neil Gaiman’s Sandman series (which by the way, is excellent).

I am a huge fan of the Batman/X-Men/Iron-Man/Avengers movie and game releases and would love to begin reading some of these in their original ink and paper format. I plan to research where to even begin with these and where I can source the comics from cheaply [or for free: *library dance*] over the summer.  

So what did I, as a comic-amateur, think of the exhibition?

It was great. The exhibition was interestingly broken up into various themes, such as gender, politics, violence etc with an area on sex that was curtained off slightly, so you could bypass it if you visited with children, or were likely to find it offensive. When you first enter you’re met with a series of quotes speech-bubbled along the wall from various famous people, my favourite of which is below:

 

Sorry about the quality - it was very dark and I was trying to be sneaky.

 

These were great as the quotes were not all favourable of comics and it introduced the idea right away the comics have always been a controversial topic.

Unfortunately you can’t take pictures inside the exhibition so you’ll have to imagine: A dark high ceiling that gave each illuminated display an almost stage-like quality. Looming from the shadowy corners were groups of mannequins, each sporting  V’s mask from V for Vendetta (a graphic novel written by Alan Moore – although the film version is possibly more well-known), giving the eerie impression I was being followed by a collective hidden gaze as I shuffled around.  

Some of the series I’d heard of, so it was really interesting to learn more about them – they had Judge Dredd’s mask, worn in the most recent film by Karl Urban (I think the mask was from the most recent film!) and it was amazing to see Neil Gaiman’s handwritten letters and sketches for the Sandman series, and learn about his earlier Punch and Judy works (very creepy).  But what was really great was discovering just how far back comics go. They had works from the Victorian times, and even prior to that! Some in huge, bound volumes and some that would have appeared simply in newspapers. Simple sketches and bold black and whites ran alongside intricate, detailed colour work.

Looking at the themes of gender and race through comics was especially fascinating for me. People tend to associate comics with white, male writers, but this exhibition showed examples of when this began to change and who was writing what, when Britain was undergoing different political and cultural shifts. The exhibition remained very central to Britain’s history which was great as well, as again, people tend to associate most comic work with American writers.

There was some thoroughly disturbing viewing to be had in the Sex section, including Penis monsters, anthropomorphic testicles and an almost scarring take on Rupert Bear. I would suggest no-one younger than 15/16 venture there.

Apart from an embarrassing moment, where I leant so close to the glass casing that I smacked my giant forehead on it, it was an excellent trip. A great way to spend an hour or so, even for comic-book novices. In fact, afterwards, I could recommend heading to Tottenham Court Road tube station, as from there it’s easy walking distance to Foyles Bookstore (they have dedicated manga and graphic novel sections) and the Forbidden Planet London megastore – their basement is any comic book or graphic novel fan’s heaven.

Entrance!

The exhibition at the British Library is open until the 19th August 2014. It’s £9.50 for adults and £5 for concessions. For other prices and to book tickets follow the link here.  

Over and out.

The Prison Book Ban

I’m actually hoping, whilst studying for my masters next year, to undergo a fieldwork placement in a prison library. Whether this is actually possible is a different kettle of fish. I won’t go into the reasons for wanting this, but I do often look around prison librarian blogs, news and related affairs and this caught my eye recently. Chris Grayling, conservative and current Lord Chancellor and Secretary of State for Justice has been rattling cages recently with his ban on books being sent into UK prisons.

His defence, as I can gather from the various articles, seems to be, in short, that books can be used to smuggle in contrabands. Prisoners have access to reading material through their prison library or can earn money to buy books. Prisoners are allowed up to and including twelve books in their cells at any time.

Now, even to me – a person with limited knowledge of the prison system - that seems like weak reasoning.

According to politics.co.uk most ‘entry’ level or ‘standard’ level inmates will earn no more that roughly £15 per week. Most will earn less. Now even I, an admitted bookworm, wouldn’t be spending my £15 per week on books, if I was in prison. As a child or partner of someone in jail, it would upset me that I couldn’t send any gifts, as the ban covers more than books, and I imagine it would impose restrictions on any charities sending in supplies to aid rehabilitation through reading etc.

Inmates are allowed access to the library, good behaviour permitting, for 30 minutes per week. In reality understaffing can often limit this. Again it boils down to money: If public libraries are struggling with cut-backs, then I imagine prison libraries are experiencing the same troubles. I quote from an article in the telegraph:

Prison libraries are funded by an agency of the Ministry of Justice, which gives the money to the prison’s local public library authority, which in turn provides a library service to the prison. According to Ministry of Justice guidelines, the size of the stock should be 10 times greater than the prison population, and the stock should be replaced for wear and tear every five years. If this really happens, then prison libraries are as well-stocked as our public libraries.

Does this mean, with dwindling money for library services, that soon library authorities will have to basically decide which they put their money, their staff, their books and resources, into - our prison or public libraries? Which would you choose? It seems simple on the surface: prison inmates are in prison for a reason. Why should they be allowed library privileges over the general, law-abiding public? I understand this. It is a reasonable argument. However of the prison population of England and Wales, roughly three quarters cannot read or write (according to CILIP). There’s a great article from The Guardian that mentions that if a prisoner goes straight into a job upon release he/she has only a 10% chance of reoffending, compared to 90% if they don’t. Now, if you can’t read or write, what chance do you have of getting a job upon release? I don’t have a percent for that, but I bet it doesn’t involve double digits. To help rehabilitation through education whilst in prison, to help them learn basic reading and writing often requires books. Sometimes expensive books that £15 per week is not going to pay for. And an understaffed, underfunded library cannot afford either. Thus a stalemate is reached. Inmates serve their time, and go back into the world still illiterate, the figures against them that they’ll be back in soon enough, costing taxpayers more money to run the prisons they’re in. A fab quote comes from the BBC interviewing Mark Haddon on the subject: "Even prisoners in Guantanamo Bay can get given books as gifts"

It’s not a simple matter. And the points I’ve covered here don’t even scratch the surface of the issues facing libraries. But banning books being sent into prisons from the outside, to me, is just not helping. If you’re going to give an inmate any chance of improving their education level whilst serving time, and thus allowing them to come back to the public world with a better chance of finding employment and contributing to society (I hate that phrase) then allowing books to be sent into our prisons seems sensible. If I had £6.31 (minimum wage for anyone over 21), I’d rather pay someone for an hour to check thirty incoming packages of books from outside sources, than spend it on one book for the prison library that only one inmate at a time can have amongst his twelve books on his bookshelf.

I hope this makes sense. I have so many questions about prison libraries. But I wanted to write about this to begin to make sense of my thoughts and feelings on our prison libraries. Maybe one day I’ll get to experience them first hand.

I'll leave this with a link to a charity. The Shannon Trust aim to make every prisoner a reader. It sets up schemes that have reading prisoners teaching their fellow, illiterate inmates through a peer to peer reading scheme. They're active in almost every prison in the UK.

Over and out.