Historical fiction underscores pain of discrimination and intolerance
Published Feb 11, 2008In a book written with a teen-age audience in mind, author Libby Sternberg projects an “unsinkable Molly Brown” quality in the protagonist, 15-year-old Carl Matuski, whose contagious energy is certain to maintain the interest of today’s multi-tasking young adult readers.
At the same time, there’s much in this book, “The Case Against My Brother,” for not-so-young adults to encounter—specifically the political and social environment leading up to a referendum passed in the 1920s in Oregon, prohibiting the existence of Catholic and other private schools.
Readers might shake their heads in disbelief over the possibility that such a movement would prevail in 20th century America, yet nearly a century later issues of unwillingness to accept the immigrant and intolerance for another’s faith continue to spread poison, like venom from a snake.
Sternberg paints a gray wash of grimness over Portland’s working class neighborhoods and balances it in a palate of warm colors that spring from the affection of Carl for his sometimes wayward brother, 17-year-old Adam.
The boys, homeless after their mother dies, are forced to leave the comfort of a very Catholic Baltimore and find their way to live with an uncle in Portland, where the post-World War I atmosphere is charged with bigotry aimed at their Polish ancestry and their religion.
A couple of stereotyped characters —the cop consumed with ignorance, the hooker with a heart of gold and an over-glamorized “ace” reporter—don’t detract from what makes this story shine. The fidelity and devotion on the part of young Carl for his brother, his unswerving loyalty, the beautiful innocence of brotherly love and the faith-filled forgiveness should put this book on the first shelf.
The ability to simultaneously sustain a sense of mystery with a purveying sadness, while preserving a surprise ending are three key elements that put Sternberg’s writing style in a class with other talented writers in this genre. This book is recommended for a junior high and high school social studies reading list and would fit nicely into religious education class discussions.
Meanwhile, readers might hope to hear more in the future from Sternberg about the Matuski brothers.
E-mail
|
Print
|