More and NOW: Michael Buckley’s (Politically Charged!) Undertow

The one thing I find above and beyond super fascinating with YA Lit is that it never ceases to amaze me. And by it, I really mean the masterminds behind it: the authors. I expected some intrigue and interest in this series in reading through the premise and the cover certainly holds allure. I absolutely did not expect to find anything so intrinsically and politically charged! YES!!!!!

Michael Buckley’s Undertow (apparently book 1 of a planned trilogy) was so engaging that I couldn’t put it down. No, seriously: I commute daily around Manhattan, and my commute is a lengthy one. Yet somehow I manage to waste somewhat obscene amounts of time on my cell phone while commuting rather than actually reading the book I’ve gone through the trouble of schlepping about with me. I know a book is really good when I actually make the effort (willingly!) and choose to absorb myself in it rather than phone games/email/texts/etc.

The premise itself is unique, though there are some fairly common YA elements in there. We have a strange, different type of people who look a little different, speak a different language, have a different set of culture/belief/religious/legal systems and have shown up out of nowhere on the beaches of the grand ol’ USA. In this case, they’re in the sketchily gross waters off of Coney Island, NY. I can attest to the fact that Coney Island has definitely seen better days. The people of the state are led by one crazy-delusional, interestingly named Governor Bachman (hmmm. . . very similar to Governor Bachmann of Minnesota . . . ). With the new people, called the “Alphas,” taking up residence in a tent camp on the beach, Coney Island has essentially been quarantined off from the remainder of the state. The humans in the quarantine have now found reason to avoid their inter-human differences (race, culture, language, beliefs, religion . . . oh wait. Basically everything that marks the Alphas as different, except place of origin) and join forces together against the Alphas.

Here’s where things get particularly exciting: the government has decreed that the Alpha have a mandatory right to education, and so have made the Coney Island school the first in a series of school integrations. So essentially we start at the idea of a Brown v. Board of Ed set up, but it’s actually not just Brown that’s being replayed. The ongoing debate over the inclusion of Alphas in the school system in many ways mirrors the ongoing debate about allowing illegal immigrants into the education system, too, and with many only lightly changed references to protest slogans, racist remarks and the like.

Buckley even adds the legal procedure question of which government agency takes control of this situation! We see questions of freedom of speech rights, issues of tolerance of protected classes, tests to freedom of peaceable assembly and freedom of expression. We see mockery of the legal process as well as a critique on the concept of vigilante justice.

Another layer of intrigue lies in the protagonist, Lyric Walker, who is coerced into helping the Alpha prince by a mysteriously persuasive man in black type who steps in the govern the school while the integration process is being adapted to. The school itself, while never a bastion of ivory tower prowess, does become an intriguing military state following the Alpha inclusion, with machine guns, soldiers, and arrests becoming an every day occurrence. Lyric herself is described as a social “chameleon,” and by her best friend as a “wild thing,” though her regularly occurring migraines keep her considerably more docile than she might otherwise be.

Underneath the politics of what’s happening around them out in the open, Buckley does an outstanding job of painting the intricate web of lies, deceits, half-truths and secrets that underscore the human relations, too. Bex, Lyric’s “wild thing” best friend, is white but lives in a clearly poverty-stricken, physically abusive household, and so spends a lot of time with Lyric’s family. Lyric’s other best friend, Shadow, is the child of an illegal immigrant himself. Lyric’s family, with her police officer father and hippy-ish yoga mom, is harboring their own major secret (that I’m going to try really, really hard not to ruin).

In the end, though, despite everyone showing their own worst sides, we still get the classic YA tropes. Yes, there’s forbidden romance. Yes, part of it’s a love triangle. Yes, there’s a doomed romance. Yes, there’s death and destruction. Yes, our protagonist will step in to save the day. (At least that day). Yes, we have a strange new type of people that previously only existed in fantasies.

But as the story continues, we come to realize that there is an impending threat coming to shore: literally. And it’s this threat that could either bring peace back to the nation or destroy it completely.

What I Liked About the Book:

1. THE POLITICS. One thing that seems missing from most YA Lit is a nod towards what’s actually happening in the political arena outside of whatever fictional world the author has created. Here, that’s definitely not the case. Buckley has embedded some of the deepest, darkest and most complex legal issues that are in debate today with only thinly veiled covers, too. It seems that politics in YA Lit is something that tends to be coyly played with: a little bit here or there; a slight nod yonder; nothing more. Buckley does an intriguing job of layering the larger issues at play–and their associated agencies–over the more secular, protagonist-focused ones.

2. The Alphas are intriguing. No, they’re not all mermaids. And no, they don’t follow human rules. They have their own beliefs and systems, and treat humans with annoyance and frustration that they don’t understand the Alphas. They’re completely different from any of the creatures I’m aware of springing up in YA lit, and here, different is excellent.

3. We follow primarily Lyric, but also her best friend, Bex. The girls live in two very different households, and Buckley does a good job of painting what “home” means in a safe, supportive environment v. what it means for Bex, in a clearly abusive, hostile home. However, he does this in a way that underscores the idea of humanity in each. The characters are not one dimensional; no one is all good or all bad, and this makes them pop in relation to so many YA characters–especially parental characters.

4. No, you really never have the full story–and that’s alive and well here. There are always alternative perspectives, new bits of information and human elements that impact how you’d respond to a situation, and Buckley definitely addresses this.

5. There is no suggestion by Lyric in the story that the place was once a fairy land of awesomeness. She acknowledges that the school–and Coney Island in general–is run down, dirty, with it’s own issues of social acceptance, governance and intense, interpersonal conflicts. I found this to be particularly important, in light of the overall political messages that are imbued in this work.

What I Didn’t Love:

1. That the next book hasn’t been released yet?

2. Well, I didn’t like how Lyric handles her on-again/off-again human love interest, Gabriel. Or, I guess to be honest, how he handles her. But the relationship works in light of other issues in the book, so it’s not a huge deal.

3. Not sure I understand the whole need for Lyric to keep a gun in a backpack in her room. Still not sure what the intended value there was.

Overall:

I can’t wait for the next book to come out. Not even entirely because I’m sold on the story of Lyric as much as I’m sold on the political critique hiding on these pages!

Anyone else out there have a chance to read this? Find any other political/legal hot points (I know I’m missing some!)?