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Sons from Afar (Voigt)
I am gonna finish this sequence. Someday. I really am. :)
This book, I think, has two different themes. The more explicit theme has to do with fathers and sons and biology — what does it mean to be a father, what does it mean to be a son, what does it mean in terms of ways you are similar or different from your biological parents? Sammy and James are so similar to their biodad, and so different; and some of those similarities have been evident since Homecoming, where (as mildred pointed out) James stole in an underhanded way… And which things do you have no power to change, and which things can you change? If the book gives any answer, I think it might be that we can't necessarily change the kinds of people we are, and what we're good at or bad at, but we can change the way we think about things — the narrative is, I think, primarily interested in those ways that James and Sammy think about things. Underscoring this (man, I can't believe I never noticed this before!!) is Sammy's school report on Phaethon and Apollo:
Well! Compare this quote from James, a little earlier:
That person being Frank Verricker, of course! So Sammy is not quite right: it's not all that different from what we think sometimes, only James is thinking it about genetics rather than about gods. And of course he's wrong, too; he may be the kind of person who does look for the easy way physically, and yes, maybe he does have the propensity to run out on hard things -- but -- he can decide not to do those things when they cross the threshold into being things that are not right for him as a person (and in fact he does so decide during the course of the book for important things like his French ideas, although he does not become magically better at weeding the vegetables by doing so). So interesting to see Voigt tackling these questions and coming up with these kinds of conclusions twenty years before Dweck started talking about fixed mindset and growth mindset!
The less explicit theme has to do with looking at things from different points of view, what people look like from other people's viewpoints; what is the truth of a person? Is it what the person thinks about himself, or what other people think of him? (Male pronoun because it's predominantly James and Sammy, and to a certain extent Frank Verricker, who are examined in this way.) Again, this is a theme of the cycle as a whole; the whole flipping cycle is about looking at various events, examining various things we thought we knew, from different points of view — but this is the book where Voigt really digs into it, with the chapters shifting between Sammy's and James' POV. (This is the only Tillerman book that has shifting chapter POVs; while others have prefaces or postscripts with a different POV, the main body of the book is always one narrator.)
This is a couple of chapters after we saw, from Sammy's POV, James totally bonding with and saying all the right things to a schoolteacher they were asking about their father, where he knew exactly what to say and the woman very much took to him (and not to Sammy, who dislikes the entire meeting). (Interestingly, that's followed up by a meeting with an assistant principal where James totally flakes and Sammy understands what to say — because it's a very different situation. James tends to do well in places he can use ideas and human connection, whereas Sammy has an intuitive understanding of, hm, masculine tropes, should I say?)
It's also an interesting book to me because while I viscerally identify hardest with Jeff, James is… the one who most reminds me of when I was in high school, in a lot of ways, and so I identify emotionally and intellectually very much with him. (Though I was more of a math/science geek than James, who primarily seems to be a literature-based geek.) I did some things in early high school (I don't think anyone reading this would know about these) that I'm not very proud of, because I wanted to fit in — it's probably a really good thing no one ever asked me to cheat for them.
I was struck by this bit:
because it's so similar to how I feel — okay, well, I don't feel exactly like that, but I've found it very comforting to think that certain things were the result of probability, a roll of the dice, that there's nothing personal in it. This is not the norm for (say) my religious community, where most people take a lot of comfort in things being God's will. Anyway, I get James :)
The interesting thing, too, is that Sammy feels very differently and doesn't get James, and that's OK: "What was so great about not being important at all? Sammy was pretty important to himself."
Meanwhile, it's interesting to read this after Come a Stranger, because in this book we get a lot more in the way of the Tillermans having an established (though continually changing) community, if less dense than Mina's — Mr. Lingerle is a fixture, Sammy makes friends with the Nortons, Toby and Custer are established as friends (or former friends) of long standing.
Various random items:
-I really feel for Toby. You can that Toby has some unfortunate social tendencies but is self-aware enough to try to curb them. In Seventeen, Toby, Celie, and James are close friends — I'd sort of like to see Toby and Celie get together. (Okay, this is partially my contrarian tendency to like ships different than the one I think the narrative might be trying to push on me, which I kinda thought was James/Celie — but Voigt is continually surprising me, so she might also be Toby/Celie, or Celie/no-one-in-these-books, who knows.)
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mildred_of_midgard, you were right, there's nontrivial fat-shaming. One of the very few places where it suffers from being read twenty years later — I do remember in the 80's everyone thought that if you had enough self-discipline you could of course lose weight. Though even there there's some nuance; James realizes that he would have a lot of trouble if he had to eat less and exercise more. And though Sammy thinks being fat is a problem with Mr. Lingerle, we have some clues (and learn in Seventeen) that it's not actually hampering him from having a satisfying life romantically as well as otherwise.
-Speaking of which, this time around the bit where Sammy and Gram (not so much James, which, go James) try to matchmake Maybeth with Mr. Lingerle bothers me less than it has in the past, because it's so clear from Seventeen that it's a really stupid idea.
-So many wonderful minor characters in this one! Toby, Celie, Dr Landros and Dr O'Hara (would love to learn more of their backstory! I mean, we get some of it, but I bet it could be a whole book),
This book, I think, has two different themes. The more explicit theme has to do with fathers and sons and biology — what does it mean to be a father, what does it mean to be a son, what does it mean in terms of ways you are similar or different from your biological parents? Sammy and James are so similar to their biodad, and so different; and some of those similarities have been evident since Homecoming, where (as mildred pointed out) James stole in an underhanded way… And which things do you have no power to change, and which things can you change? If the book gives any answer, I think it might be that we can't necessarily change the kinds of people we are, and what we're good at or bad at, but we can change the way we think about things — the narrative is, I think, primarily interested in those ways that James and Sammy think about things. Underscoring this (man, I can't believe I never noticed this before!!) is Sammy's school report on Phaethon and Apollo:
"So that, in a way, the people were helpless, and everything that happened was the gods' idea. So you can see it's different from what we think." Now he was really off the track. But he'd never thought of that before, the way believing that the gods had all the power kept you helpless.
Well! Compare this quote from James, a little earlier:
That was the kind of person he [James] was. The kind of person who would run out on somebody, looking for the easy way, rather than sticking around to help with responsibilities that were of his making. Like four kids.
That person being Frank Verricker, of course! So Sammy is not quite right: it's not all that different from what we think sometimes, only James is thinking it about genetics rather than about gods. And of course he's wrong, too; he may be the kind of person who does look for the easy way physically, and yes, maybe he does have the propensity to run out on hard things -- but -- he can decide not to do those things when they cross the threshold into being things that are not right for him as a person (and in fact he does so decide during the course of the book for important things like his French ideas, although he does not become magically better at weeding the vegetables by doing so). So interesting to see Voigt tackling these questions and coming up with these kinds of conclusions twenty years before Dweck started talking about fixed mindset and growth mindset!
The less explicit theme has to do with looking at things from different points of view, what people look like from other people's viewpoints; what is the truth of a person? Is it what the person thinks about himself, or what other people think of him? (Male pronoun because it's predominantly James and Sammy, and to a certain extent Frank Verricker, who are examined in this way.) Again, this is a theme of the cycle as a whole; the whole flipping cycle is about looking at various events, examining various things we thought we knew, from different points of view — but this is the book where Voigt really digs into it, with the chapters shifting between Sammy's and James' POV. (This is the only Tillerman book that has shifting chapter POVs; while others have prefaces or postscripts with a different POV, the main body of the book is always one narrator.)
He wasn't sure he wanted to go in for an interview. He didn't know what they would ask him, he wouldn't know what to say, and people didn't take to him, so an interview would probably mean he wouldn't get the job.
This is a couple of chapters after we saw, from Sammy's POV, James totally bonding with and saying all the right things to a schoolteacher they were asking about their father, where he knew exactly what to say and the woman very much took to him (and not to Sammy, who dislikes the entire meeting). (Interestingly, that's followed up by a meeting with an assistant principal where James totally flakes and Sammy understands what to say — because it's a very different situation. James tends to do well in places he can use ideas and human connection, whereas Sammy has an intuitive understanding of, hm, masculine tropes, should I say?)
It's also an interesting book to me because while I viscerally identify hardest with Jeff, James is… the one who most reminds me of when I was in high school, in a lot of ways, and so I identify emotionally and intellectually very much with him. (Though I was more of a math/science geek than James, who primarily seems to be a literature-based geek.) I did some things in early high school (I don't think anyone reading this would know about these) that I'm not very proud of, because I wanted to fit in — it's probably a really good thing no one ever asked me to cheat for them.
I was struck by this bit:
He felt, like night lifting off the sky, the shame and depression lifting off his shoulders at the thought that he really didn't matter, whoever he was.
because it's so similar to how I feel — okay, well, I don't feel exactly like that, but I've found it very comforting to think that certain things were the result of probability, a roll of the dice, that there's nothing personal in it. This is not the norm for (say) my religious community, where most people take a lot of comfort in things being God's will. Anyway, I get James :)
The interesting thing, too, is that Sammy feels very differently and doesn't get James, and that's OK: "What was so great about not being important at all? Sammy was pretty important to himself."
Meanwhile, it's interesting to read this after Come a Stranger, because in this book we get a lot more in the way of the Tillermans having an established (though continually changing) community, if less dense than Mina's — Mr. Lingerle is a fixture, Sammy makes friends with the Nortons, Toby and Custer are established as friends (or former friends) of long standing.
Various random items:
-I really feel for Toby. You can that Toby has some unfortunate social tendencies but is self-aware enough to try to curb them. In Seventeen, Toby, Celie, and James are close friends — I'd sort of like to see Toby and Celie get together. (Okay, this is partially my contrarian tendency to like ships different than the one I think the narrative might be trying to push on me, which I kinda thought was James/Celie — but Voigt is continually surprising me, so she might also be Toby/Celie, or Celie/no-one-in-these-books, who knows.)
-
mildred_of_midgard, you were right, there's nontrivial fat-shaming. One of the very few places where it suffers from being read twenty years later — I do remember in the 80's everyone thought that if you had enough self-discipline you could of course lose weight. Though even there there's some nuance; James realizes that he would have a lot of trouble if he had to eat less and exercise more. And though Sammy thinks being fat is a problem with Mr. Lingerle, we have some clues (and learn in Seventeen) that it's not actually hampering him from having a satisfying life romantically as well as otherwise.-Speaking of which, this time around the bit where Sammy and Gram (not so much James, which, go James) try to matchmake Maybeth with Mr. Lingerle bothers me less than it has in the past, because it's so clear from Seventeen that it's a really stupid idea.
-So many wonderful minor characters in this one! Toby, Celie, Dr Landros and Dr O'Hara (would love to learn more of their backstory! I mean, we get some of it, but I bet it could be a whole book),