Some People Juggle Geese

A 27-year-old woman who as a teenager posed for a propaganda poster under the previous government is released from imprisonment on condition that she locate a missing girl who was snatched from her family a decade earlier. Her luminescent ocular device, no longer connected to the system that conditioned every citizen via instant monetary rewards and punishments, can nevertheless still be used to spy on her.

The story, told in present tense, explores themes of community and making the best of what you have, like City of Ember. But the world of Roth’s Poster Girl is not a world where anyone emerges triumphant. Mostly, it’s about loss and evil and culpability; not just looking evil in the face, but casting aside self-deception and admitting you carry it inside yourself.

In addition, we’re warned that technology can be misused; specifically that we’re infinitely better off if our data is siloed on scattered devices than if it’s in the cloud, because someday the government will likely get it all, and whoever controls the government will use it however they see fit… and so will the next government.

I read in a review of Childhood’s End that it’s dull because its only plot device is “the slow reveal.” While that’s not the only plot device of Poster Girl, it might partly explain the deflated feeling I had, sunshiny epilogue notwithstanding, when I finished reading it. The 288-page novel hinges on the dark secret at its heart. About which, no more.

Two things stood out when I read Passionate Persistence: The Life of My Mother, Ruth Chew by Eve Sprunt.

One is that all the dollar amounts mentioned for individual purchases, cars, salaries, etc. were really low compared to now, many decades later. I mean, of course I know about inflation, but appreciating these amounts, even with present-day equivalents given in the narration, is like having to think in another currency entirely. The past really is a foreign country, and reading a biography of anyone born in a previous generation is like traveling in time.

The other is that children’s authors aren’t necessarily good with their own kids. I would have assumed someone apparently full of entertaining stories for children would have been fully engaged with her own. It seems the truth is that Ruth’s offspring were expected to be as emotionally self-sufficient as the characters in her stories, who wander around having adventures with little if any interference from their parents.

The second-oldest of five, Eve has written a detailed account of her mother’s personal, professional, and family life, based on Ruth’s diaries and her own memories. She acknowledges Ruth’s challenges and successes, but also points out behavior that was negligent, self-indulgent, or biased and reminds us that we ought to pay attention to our impact on those around us.