Paul Zindel must have felt compelled by an irresistible force to expose a childhood that reads as well in a biography as in his novels. Paul and Betty could well have been John and Lorraine, just as Nonno Frankie became Angelo Pignati. Staten Island becomes as familiar as home, just as the streets and avenues are noted in our memories like the carvings on the desks we saw 280 days of each year in our own schools.
Zindel’s family problems mirror those of John and Lorraine, but other less personal problems, such as racism and poverty (if they can be considered less personal than family), erupt with the clarity and lucidity of a punch. . The combination of the two families under one roof is unusual, but not unheard of, just as the portrayal of small-town residents as zombies is obviously hyperbolic, but, to some extent, believable.
Nonno Frankie’s concern for the life of the apple tree symbolizes the deepest truths that form the foundation of moral behavior and stands majestically as a tribute to the enduring permanence of integrity that transcends the passing changes that take hold of children in their quest. of identity and meaning of life. His incessant humor revives memories of the immortal and childish frivolous, so necessary for the creation of bonds of friendship between children. Something has to make up for the constant onslaught of disappointment and pain that comes from the novelty of growing up in a strange and threatening environment. Nonno’s pranks to wake up the zombies were analogous to John’s antics in the classroom, mischievous behavior that should be expected from normal and growing young adults.
Sometimes the truth is stranger than fiction. If you were to include more than twenty Lassies in a story, it would be considered awesome. Goal, i did be twenty Borzois in one go; therefore, the prospect is not inconceivable. The life of Paul Zindel, as described, supports the belief that one should write based on experience. But that does not undermine the potential for extensive creativity that extends the imagination beyond the threshold of belief through the voluntary suspension of disbelief. Fiction knows no limits.
Assessment: This biography is not essential to understanding the novels that emerged from the experiences of Paul Zindel, but it helps to understand the mind that created the Man Pig, who in turn personifies a universal ideology. The reading level is lower than that of the novels and much easier to understand. Therefore, I see this narrative as a good basis for teaching characterization, setting, and dialogue, as well as the idea of ​​biographical sketches. The tone is simple and reading-friendly with enough humor to make reading a pleasure rather than a chore.
Recommendation: For the slow reader, this would be a motivating piece to offer tasty bits of humor, philosophy, adventure, and emotional involvement that are more widely offered in Paul Zindel’s novels. I would use it even for non-readers as a tool to break the shell of apathy, as it would work well as storytelling material. It is not so much an autobigraphy as a preparatory statement to give relevant background to answer unavoidable questions.
Teaching: For advanced readers, I would use this as additional information that confirms the principle that good writing comes from real experiences. For less motivated readers, this text and styles lend themselves well to emulation, so minimal success will pay off more.
