Ok, so you've probably heard that there's an idiot in Missouri who equates Speak with soft-core porn.* He then really goes off the deep end when he says "They have sex on Saturday night and then are goddesses at church on Sunday morning. The cheer squad also gets their group-rate abortions at prom time." I mean, you can misinterpret a book all you want, but don't go making things up that aren't even there. Where did that even come from?
In addition to Speak, he also objects to Slaughterhouse-Five and Twenty Boy Summer. I read Slaughterhouse-Five too long ago to refute his claims in the same way as Speak and I haven't read Twenty Boy Summer yet.
There have been several posts in the blogosphere that rather eloquently refute this guy (and some, like mine, that are just angry.) Reclusive Bibliofile has a great round-up of the reaction.
But, for a really good laugh, check out the Rejectionist's reaction. It focuses more on his writing skills than content, but it's an excellent and hilarious take-down.
*I try not to resort to school yard name calling, but this is the scene that he thinks is soft-core porn. If this gets you hot, call a mental health professional.
"Do you want to?" he asked.
What did he say? I didn't answer. I didn't know. I didn't speak.
We were on the ground. When did that happen? "No." No I did not want this. I was on the ground and he was on top of me. My lips mumble something about leaving, about a friend who needs me, about my parents worrying. I can hear myself--I'm mumbling like a deranged drunk. His lips lock on mine and I can't say anything. I twist my head away. He is so heavy. There is a boulder on top of me. I open my mouth to breathe, to scream, and his hand covers it. In my head, my voice is as clear as a bell: "NO I DON'T WANT TO!" But I can't spit it out. I'm trying to remember how we got on the ground and where the moon went and wham! shirt up, shorts down, and the ground smells wet and ark and NO!-- I'm not really here, I'm definitely back at Rachel's, crimping my hear and gluing on fake nails, and he smells like beer and mean and he hurts me hurts me hurts me and gets up
and zips his jeans
and smiles. (p135-136)
Links to Amazon are an affiliate link. You can help support Biblio File by purchasing any item (not just the one linked to!) through these links. Read my full disclosure statement.