Å·±¦ÓéÀÖ

Sympathy
Paul Laurence Dunbar

I know what the caged bird feels, alas!
When the sun is bright on the upland slopes;
When the wind stirs soft through the springing grass,
And the river flows like a stream of glass;
When the first bird sings and the first bud opes,
And the faint perfume from its chalice steals�
I know what the caged bird feels!

I know why the caged bird beats his wing
Till its blood is red on the cruel bars;
For he must fly back to his perch and cling
When he fain would be on the bough a-swing;
And a pain still throbs in the old, old scars
And they pulse again with a keener sting�
I know why he beats his wing!

I know why the caged bird sings, ah me,
When his wing is bruised and his bosom sore,�
When he beats his bars and he would be free;
It is not a carol of joy or glee,
But a prayer that he sends from his heart’s deep core,
But a plea, that upward to Heaven he flings�
I know why the caged bird sings!

Reread most recently on the cusp of the twentieth anniversary of the book's publication, for my fall 2018 YA class, also with Anderson's graphic novel version of the book, illustrated impressively by Emily Carroll.

If you haven't read this book and don;t know why it is Melinda doesn't speak (much, except in the journal of her ninth grade year, which is the novel Speak, you may not want to continue reading this review.

Perennial fave in my YA course, and an important moment in the history of Young Adult Literature. Published in 1999, it features a girl, Melinda, who was raped at a party by an upperclassman in the month before her ninth grade year at Merryweather High School. She calls 911 but then, traumatized by what has happened to her, something she was too young to fully understand, she largely stops talking about what happened, which gets most people in school to hate her. Many books on (teen) rape now exist but few are also witty, filled with snarky teen humor, and so alive with a real vibrant central character, and so well written, with such great insights into teen experiences of adolescence. Should a book on this topic also be funny? Well, this one is, and you will laugh out loud at many observations the darkly acerbic Melinda makes about her school and the teachers and students in the school. And underneath that surface humor is the Act that can never be Un-Acted, the horror compounded by social isolation and misunderstanding.

Melinda rarely actually speaks in this first year, because she is resented for calling that cops at that party. They don't know why she called the cops, though, and no one seems to really care to ask. She loses friends and is bullied. Another issue? "It" (the rapist) is a student at her school, and still a threat to her and others. Her parents's marriage is in trouble, so they have no time to ask her what is going on.

One resource for her is Art class, and the cool art teacher, Mr. Freeman, who doesn't intrude but makes space for her to explore her obvious experiences. Her year project, the topic of which she pulls out of a hat,is a tree. It's a cliche, maybe, but Melinda is urged throughout the year to try and try again to express herself through that simple image. The power of art to redeem is important in this story, as is the power of telling one's story. This is not a perfect story (I have some small issues with the resolution of the story, which conveniently involves a field hockey team in the right place at the right time), but it is an important one for schools and those who work with young people, and teens---both boys and girls--who need to know what rape is and what speaking truth to power is all about.