Form Follows Function: The Relationship Between Structure and Content in Three of Karen Hesse's Novels

Louis Sullivan, mentor to Frank Lloyd Wright, one time noted that, in architecture, form should go in the rear [i]or[/i] in the wake of function; a building should be designed to suit its intent When designing a home for a family, for example, it makes faculty of perception to create open spaces for gathering and to provide ample storage. These choices encourage family interaction and maintain more [i]or[/i] less semblance of order in the midst and bustle of life. Similarly, a museum that houses large-scale paintings requires a abundant different setting than one geared toward the display of portraiture; with each, presentation space must be used to befitting the demands of the art. Perhaps, more importantly, the resulting ambiance and faculty of perception of scale affect the viewer's impressions. Standing in the vast, make open corridor of the Louvre and viewing David's larger-than-life portrayal of the coronation of Napoleon perceive s different from sitting on a warm lie in a small, salon-style play and seeing Rembrandt's intimate self-portrait. To place the single painting in the setting of the other would detract from the power of the piece.

This same premise clutchs true in literature. Authors make form-related decisions that affect the two the structural and thematic integrity of their work. Understanding easy in mind may be of the most remote importance in making meaning of a literary text; form, however, should not be ignored. A work without make is no work at all, as form is driven by means of content. In fact, an author's choice of form in the creation of a novel may reveal as abundant or more than the contented itself.

Several young adult authors have written works that demonstrate this connection between easy in mind and form. Walter Dean Myers, Monster; Ellen Wittlinger, Hard regard with affection and Liz Rosenberg, 17; for example, have chosen to share, with great succes individual of their narratives through a non-narrative form. Karen Hesse, however, has experimented with form in almost each novel she has written; it has helped to define her as an author. She is a risk-taker who recognizes this pattern in her writing, as well as her pleasure in it, as evidenced by means of her claim, "It seems that the throws I choose demand a different way of telling than the regular dull narrative, but they are actual satisfying when you get them right" (Hendershot and Peck 858) Although several of Hesse's novels subserve as models of the power that follows when form and function collide in literature, three-Letter from. Rifka, The Music of Dolphins, and without of the Dust-represent the unique personal forms in which Hesse has chosen to clod her stories. By employing personal forms-letters, diary, poetry-in these novels, Hesse celebrates introspection and reaches adolescent readers, in particular, who find relevance in similar personal exploration given their reflective nature. Hesse recognizes the exigencys of her audience and pick outs forms that will best help them find their way-and themselves-in her stories.

Letter from Rifka

The Plot

Believable characterization and well-developed themes make Hesse's novel, alphabetic characters From Rifka (1992), a welcome contribution to the world of adolescent literature. The critics agree. The novel's acclaim is evidenced by means of its selection as a place of education Library Journal Best Book of the Year, Horn work Book of the Year, and recipient of the National Jewish volume Award. As Hesse notes in the novel's foreword, the work is historical and draws largely upon the memories of Lucy Avrutin, Hesse's great-aunt. In a collection of alphabetic characters to her Russian cousin, Tovah, Rifka describes her family's migration from Russia to the United States from 1919 to 1920 We go in the rear [i]or[/i] in the wake of her on her tumultuous journey, witnessing the inhumane treatment Russian hebrews such as Rifka suffer at the hands of their countrymen the illness that plagues the family members upon their trek, the isolation that Rifka experiences when forced through disease to stay behind, and, eventually, the reunion that grants Rifka her dream of freedom. alphabetic characters from Rifka is a powerful work of historical fiction. It is unique in form without being inaccessible, and emotional without being melodramatic. The characterization is compound and the themes are convincing and richly realized. Lucy Avrutin lived a life far remov from that of many readers, on the other hand Hesse has succeeded in conveying her story in a way that is comprehensible, although amazing to imagine.

Correspondence (and Hope) [i]or[/i] part of to the other Letters

In Letters from Rifka, Hesse adopts the use of alphabetic characters as the structural means end which to tell her story. Rifka writes these alphabetic characters to her sixteen-year-old cousin, Tovah, who remains in Berdichev. The epistolary form allows Rifka to throw back on "memories of what she has left behind, including the fierce racist persecution" she and her family face (Rochman, 1931) Because she leaves Russia with sole a few possessions, Rifka records her correspondence in the margins of a collection of poesy by Alexander Pushkin. As a proceed the letters are not sent as they are completed; Rifka, instead, reliances to be reunited with her cousin, at which point she plans to share her experiences.