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THE KIDS LOVE COMMUNISM THESE DAYS

When I began working on my novel, I Was a Teenage Communist, my teenage daughter said that it would be a big hit. “The kids love communism these days,” she told me. “All of those coming-of-age books for teens totally miss the mark. They don’t speak to what the kids are going through. We are concerned with social justice and reading books that tell us what other generations did to raise a voice.” I was heartened. Though I had my qualms, because even the word communism is slippery. All of the best books on communism from Das Kapital to The Romance of American Communism by Vivian Gornick leaves one wanting. Why? Because communism only exists as a utopian fantasy. Which is why I Was a Teenage Communist is a great book for young adults. It hits that sweet spot between righteousness and romance. The romantic notion that we could one day live in a classless society. Like what John Lennon sings in the song he wrote with Yoko, which she has only recently been credited with co-writing, the song Imagine. Nice song, nice dream. But let’s get real. Still, one can dream. This book is not written for teens, which is why they will probably like it. It is a book for millennials because they need a reason to dream.

It is a coming-of-age book for adults who need books with good love stories about outsiders and outcasts. Because we all used to be a teen at one point, and every teen is an outsider. But nowhere is one more an outsider than a punk pinko kid in Orange County, California during Ronald Reagan’s morning in America. The kids in this story find each other, find themselves, have awkward sex, flirt with rebellion, listen to great music from punk and new wave’s heyday, and glory in tweaking authority. The great books of literary fiction tell us something we didn’t know; they also tell us something that we knew but have forgotten.

I think a lot of people have forgotten what it was like to have that first orgasm. Or the moment when you found that thing about yourself, the missing element. And in that moment, you understood. You were this way. Not that. Not the way society expected you to be. But the way you were meant to be.