“I wasn’t certain of anything anymore, except that New Orleans was a faithless friend and I wanted to leave her.” Out of the Easy, by Ruta Sepetys
“Decisions, they shape our destiny.” Out of the Easy, by Ruta Sepetys
“Some choices, once you make them, they stay made. And I had my reasons.” Orleans, by Sherri L. Smith
It’s always interesting to find books that seem destined to be read together, as if they were always meant to be part of the same conversation. I find it fascinating when those books are published in the same year, and approach their common themes and subjects in ways that beg comparison, not for which is better or worse, but for the different perspectives each offers to the analysis.
Two books out this year definitely beg to be read together. One is set in 1950 New Orleans, examining the implications of gender, class and race through the compelling narrative of historical New Orleans. The other is set in what is left of New Orleans in the year 2056, after the storm and illness ravaged delta region has been walled off, its remaining inhabitants written off. Roughly 60 years in our past and almost 60 years in what could be our future, and in both the unique geography and history of New Orleans creates a lens through which to examine the intersection of gender, socioeconomic class and race, and how our greater society often exploits to its own advantage the uniquely vulnerable at the center of that intersection.
Set in the simmering French Quarter, Ruta Sepetys’ Out of the Easy (Philomel Books, February 2013) provides readers with a heroine to cheer for. Seventeen-year-old Josie Moraine is known to locals as the daughter of a prostitute. Despite her mother’s neglect and the dangers of being a poor but independent young woman navigating 1950 New Orleans, Josie is a fighter determined to escape the cycle she feels is pulling her toward her mother’s life, or a life spent on the brink of poverty. Her plan is a good one — college, though setting her sights on Smith might be a bit more than the daughter of a French Quarter prostitute can pull off. But when Josie becomes entangled in a murder mystery, and the eventual criminal investigation, all her dreams and plans start to slip away. Sepetys draws readers in to Josie’s world with vivid details of 1950 New Orleans and interesting secondary characters that add dimension to the story. But it’s her ability to make us root for Josie, to want her to defy all the odds, even as the danger mounts, that makes the story a page turner. And yet, intertwined with Josie’s story and the mystery are the very real implications of being a poor young woman of questionable parentage in New Orleans, and beyond, at that time.
In Orleans, by Sherri L. Smith (Putnam Juvenile, March 2013), sixteen-year-old Fen de la Guerre is also a survivor. Delta Fever is rampant in the walled off ruins of Orleans (the New having been dropped long ago), and the best way to slow its spread and lessen the severity of its course is to keep to your own kind – blood kind. As an o-positive, Fen’s blood is attractive to the blood hunters and members of other tribes who want her blood to help them survive. That is, if she hadn’t burned her own arms to make herself a less attractive target. When circumstances result in Fen being entrusted with an infant, she must navigate the dangerous swamps and streets to get the baby to safety, knowing that almost everyone she meets would benefit from the infant’s as-yet-untainted blood, and many would kill for it. Fen is fierce. She is also fallible. And if she sometimes escapes danger a little too easily, readers might be so relieved that she and baby girl escaped that they might not care. And when Fen’s story intersects with Daniel, a young scientist from beyond the wall searching for answers to fight the fever, they both gain a powerful ally and measure of hope. Smith paints a realistic and compelling look at one possible, if devastating, future for New Orleans, and for us all. And she offers within the story plenty to consider and discuss about how race and gender and poverty have affected Fen, and how the historical roots of poverty and race in New Orleans combined to contribute to the fate of Orleans and its people.
Both books give readers a main character to cheer for, to fear for, to empathize with and to wonder about. Both Fen and Josie are survivors, defined by their times if not their circumstances. Both young women fight for more, in worlds that are far from fair. And both Sepetys and Smith give their readers plenty to consider about gender and poverty and exploitation, never sugar coating reality, but also never destroying the essential hope that makes us dream and fight for better over and over again.