America starts the chapter by waking up after having a dream about  her and her boyfriend.  So…yeah, we can check that one off the “bad romance cliché” checklist.

“America,” Mom crowed, jarring me from my dreams.

The mom-hate is taking over.  Mom can’t even wake America up in a neutral fashion. 

Moving on.  Mom wakes up America with a proposal.  If America enters the Selection drawing, Mom will let her go on jobs by herself and keep half of what she earns at those jobs.

Uhg, MIDDLE CLASS!  Look, if the family occasionally worries about when their next meal is, sometimes can’t make the bills, and is constantly worried about becoming ‘destitute’ then YOU DON’T CUT ONE OF YOUR REVINUE STREAMS IN HALF.  Seriously, she is sixteen in a family with two younger children.  The family needs every cent.  Taking money away from paying the bills and feeding the kids should not be a bargaining chip.

Plus, she’s sixteen.  Mom, just tell her to do it.

Plus, IT’S A FUCKING LOTTO DRAWING AGAINST THOUSANDS OF OTHER GIRLS!  What sense does this make to be taking food out of the mouths of your children so that one little spoiled brat will enter herself for a one-in-a-thousand chance?

This is so middle class.  This is the act of a middle class family, trying to bribe their daughter into doing something that ultimately doesn’t matter, using a bribe that also ultimately doesn’t matter.  Only instead of that second ‘doesn’t matter,’ replace it with ‘food for your children.’  It makes no sense!

“Of course. Sooner or later you’d go out on your own anyway. And being responsible for your own money will be good for you. Only, don’t forget your family, please. We still need you.”

“I won’t forget you, Mom. How could I, with all the nagging?”

Nagging?  Nagging?  This woman has small children to feed and America has repeatedly said that work is hard to come by and money is ‘tight as a high wire.’  This should not be a thing.  This should not be a consideration.  She shouldn’t be keeping her money, because they shouldn’t’ have any money to keep.

AND BEING CONCERNED ABOUT FEEDING YOUR SMALL CHILDREN IS NOT ‘NAGGING.’

And Mom needs to take a statistics class.  Or get some common sense.

America agrees without telling her mother that she’d already decided to do it.  Oh, I’m sorry, without telling her mother that Aspen had already decided she would do it.  Apparently men can just order her to do something, but mom has no authority and has to resort to bribes.

She agrees because she wants to have some money to throw a ‘small’ party when she and Aspen get married.  Because, yeah, that’s totally worth taking money your family can’t afford to spare.

I figured it wouldn’t take very long for us to save for that once we decided we were ready, but Aspen wanted more. Maybe, finally, he’d trust that we wouldn’t always be strapped if I did some serious work.

First, Aspen has six younger kids and frequently goes hungry.  No, he will not be able to save money, much less do it in a timely manner.  Second, if America marries Aspen and moves down a caste, will she still be singing for her supper, or will she be servant-ing?

Then America whines because she has A CLOSET FULL OF CLOTHING, but they aren’t pretty enough.

A CLOSET FULL OF CLOTHES IN HER PRIVATE BEDROOM.  Fucking middle class BRAT.  Who cares if they are all boring colors.  You have clothes.  You have more than one set.  Do you know how incredibly lucky you are?

Fives mostly wore bland clothes, as the artists covered everything with smocks and the singers and dancers only really needed to look special for performances.

Why is ‘covering it up with a smock’ a reason not to wear colors?  No, really, why?  Is it just impossible to wear pink under your smock?  Does the smock leach out all the color in your clothes?

The only reason for a poor person to not wear colors is if those colors are expensive.  This is set in the future, so unless some technology/resource disaster happened, colors should not expensive.  The other reason would be because the higher castes forbid it, but that’s also different from ‘cover everything with smocks.’

Also?  Dude, there’s more to art than singing and painting.  What about the performance arts?  What about fashion designers?  What about beauticians?  What is your definition of art, anyway, since it clearly doesn’t include authors?

Seems there’s a form to fill out for this Selection thing.  I thought it was a lottery drawing.  Why do they need anything besides a “check here to enter”?  Well, America has to fill out a bunch of information.  Because this is the future, but technology is still the same, and apparently there’s not a database somewhere that has this already?  Seriously, I get an application for a credit card and it comes to me pre-filled-in, but untold number of years in the future and they’re still making her write her name on the entry form?

We had to list the highest grade level we’d completed, which could vary immensely, since only Sixes and Sevens went to the public schools

Whaaaaaaa…..?

This government sucks and being repressive.  They don’t need education if they are meant to just do menial labor.  Education is a sign of wealth.  Why only educate your lowest castes?  Why educate them at all?  And why don’t the higher castes have schools?  Private tutoring for everyone isn’t really a viable choice when there’s tons of little kidlets around, and organized schools are a much more efficient option.  That’s why we invented them, because they’re better than what came before.  And what about the middle castes?  If Fives are generally on the brink of broke, don’t tell me that they have the time and energy to devote to homeschooling their kids.  If so, then they should only be teaching them work-related things, because who has time for history when there’s rent money to be made and the baby needs new shoes?

“Do you think the ability to sleep in counts as a special skill?” I asked Dad, trying to sound torn over the decision.

“Yes, list that. And don’t forget to write that you can eat an entire meal in under five minutes,” he replied. I laughed. It was true; I did tend to inhale my food.

You’re a middle class brat who gets to sleep in and has food often enough and in great enough quantity that taking time to eat it is considered normal.

Brat.

Why is she listing special skills for a lottery drawing?  Is it a lottery drawing, or do they select from applications or they select which applications go into the drawing?  I’m so confused.

“She just wants the best for you, that’s all.” He leaned back in his chair, relaxing a bit before he started on the commissioned piece that was due by the end of the month.

“So do you, but you’re never so angry,” I noted.

Because Dad is the saint and Mom is the demon.  I hate you, book.  It’s pretty early, but I really, really hate you.

“America, if you loved an Eight, I’d want you to marry him. But you should know that love sometimes wears away under the stress of being married. Someone you think you love now, you might start to hate when he couldn’t provide for you. And if you couldn’t take care of your children, it’d be even worse. Love doesn’t always survive under those types of circumstances.”

All true, but…why is the man having to provide for her?  Why can’t she provide for herself, or they both provide for each other?

Guys, let’s have a history lesson.  Feminism….well, it’s great and all, but it’s a rich white woman issue.  Here’s why: you can’t be kept out of the work place unless your family is rich enough to not need your income. 

That’s not true – misogyny is deeply ingrained in our culture and covers far more than just employment – but…come on, only the upper classes of women have been told to stay in the kitchen.  Throughout history, poor women have done the same work as poor men.  In the middle ages, women serfs were in the field right alongside their husbands, sons, and brothers.  When factories popped up, poor women and poor young girls signed up for the jobs.  Only the rich were able to say “woman, get in the kitchen and stay there,” because only the rich could afford to live off a single income. 

For families at the level that America is describing (not the one she’s living, but let’s go with what she’s describing), then having your husband support you should not even be a thing.  If anything, it should be a goal.  It should be the dream of little Fives and Sixes everywhere to have a good enough income that one parent doesn’t have to work.  Because that would mean YOU HAVE MONEY and don’t have to skip meals so that the kids can eat or worry and fret constantly about losing your home.

I’m not talking about money enough to keep up with the Joneses, I’m talking about money enough to survive.  Surviving off a single income makes you rich by a global standard, and it certainly makes you richer than Aspen, who has to skip meals on a routine basis. 

“Go easy on your mother. She’s trying to do the right thing.” He kissed my head and went off to work.

Right.  America can’t realize this on her own and come to the conclusion that her mother isn’t some harpy.  No, she has to be told by her father to forgive the misguided female, not because she’s right, but because she’s trying and we should take pity on her.

We couldn’t afford the luxury of wants. We had needs.

lol, yeah right.  Like the ‘need’ to have a wedding party.  And spices.  And single bedrooms.

She sat there, stitching up a hem as May did her schoolwork in the shade of the tree house. Aspen used to complain about the strict teachers in the public schools. I seriously doubted any of them could keep up with Mom. It was summer, for goodness sake.

I keep thinking that there has to be a end to her brattiness, that she has to eventually reach the bottom of the well of middle class things to complain about.  And then she keeps going.  Vacations are a rich girl issue.  Nearly-destitute people are used to the idea of never getting a break, because taking a day off means not eating that day.  If anything, having time for homework is, in itself, a vacation.

On top of that, there’s no reason to take off school for summers.  We used to do it because we used to need the kids for work during the summer, and people got accustomed to the idea, so it stuck around.  However, there is no actual reason to take summers off.  Kids don’t need a break, they aren’t harmed by learning all year, and there’s been studies to suggest that taking summers off is pretty detrimental.  (There’s even one suggesting that rich school districts aren’t materially better than poor ones, BUT rich kids have academic summer activities that cost money.  They come back to school ready to learn more, and the poor kids waste up to two months relearning what they forgot over vacation.  I don’t think that study was conclusive because human learning is complex, but it was pretty interesting.)

And then that scene with her mother is over and she goes inside and sees her little brother.  He’s staring at a canvas, unable to paint on it, because he’s fucking seven years old.  Who expects a seven-year-old to paint on a canvas?

Seems Gerad is just not artistically inclined, but it’s actually illegal for him to do any other profession, because…reasons. *shrug*

One look at the battered soccer ball in the corner or the secondhand microscope we’d inherited as payment one Christmas, and it was obvious his heart just wasn’t in the arts.

Who takes a microscope as payment?  You can’t eat a microscope, and your holiday work has to pay for everything until the next holiday, because this society is fucked up and doesn’t like music any other time.  So…why take a microscope?  Why don’t these people use money?  Is this all done on a barter system?

And here’s a thought: WHY NOT SELL THE MICROSCOPE?  YOU CAN’T EAT A MICROSCOPE!

It really seemed unreasonable to limit everyone’s life choices based on your ancestors’ ability to help the government, but that was how it all worked out.

No, no, no, keep up with that previous thought.  It is unreasonable.  It makes no fucking sense.

Alright, it’s time.  Let’s talk a little about castes.  Castes suck.  The entire point of having a caste system is to keep the lower castes subjugated, to take power away from them.  You can’t invent a caste system out of nothing, because the guys at the bottom of the totem pole would fuck you with a rake and then go do their own thing.  These things evolve out of shitty situations, they don’t just get laid down all at once, and they only work if everyone involved can be convinced that it’s necessary to…I don’t know, stop the sun from falling out of the sky or what not. 

Once a caste system is in place, it’s a lot easier to keep it there, but that’s different from inventing one.  People do not take kindly to being told ‘in this new system, you’re going to be treated like shit.  That cool?’

On top of that, caste systems are inefficient.  They lead to things like brilliant thinkers being denied education while inbred assholes get a free ride to universities.  Limiting a person’s ability to work according to their skills is denying the culture that person’s skills.   We know this.  Right now, right now, we know this, and I don’t think people are going to forget this in the future.  It makes even less sense than the mono-industry districts in Hunger Games. 

ON TOP OF THAT, castes just don’t work when you make them so specific.  A caste of people who are artists?  Not happening.  These need to be broad categories and they need to be only loosely based on skill.  Farming can be a caste.  Shop keeping can be a caste.  These are things that can be taught to everyone.  If you suck at farming and hate doing it, that’s okay, because you can skill wind up with food at the end of the growing season.  Not as much as your neighbor, but still food.  If you suck at art worse than your neighbor, then no one gives you money.  It’s not that they give you less money, it’s that no one gives you money.  Or microscopes.  A crappy store owner will still get the occasional customer.  A crappy farmer will still grow food.  They can be crappy and eke out a living.  A crappy artist cannot. 

The most common categories in caste systems?  Religious figures, nobility, traders/merchants, skilled workers, and unskilled workers.  And there’s some actually mobility between those bottom two, because skills can’t be inherited.  ‘Skilled workers’ doesn’t even mean art.  You can build houses or lay bricks and be considered a skilled worker, because those are skills, they’re just easier to teach. 

Making a law saying that certain people and all their future progeny have to paint, sculpt, sing, etc is hands-down the stupidest thing I have ever heard, and I have seen some failtastic world-building in my time.  It is not a system that anyone with an ounce of common sense would invent, and if some evil dictator tried it, it wouldn’t last past the first year or two without massive revolts.  Not just from the lower castes, too.  I bet the upper castes would get suck of all the crappy art and be all kinds of in favor of getting rid of that dumber-than-fuck law.

Long story short: why didn’t the Eights just stab everyone in the neck when this system was first put in place?

(And we still don’t know what 8, 7, 4, 3, and 2 do.)

The worst part of all this?  America isn’t angry.

But I knew it wasn’t okay. It wasn’t okay at all.

She keeps saying shit like this, but she doesn’t seem to realize that it’s an artificial situation.  It’s not something that fate created, it’s not something that just sort of happened and isn’t fair.  There are specific people making America’s life suck and she can’t bother to be more than mildly put out about it.

Sorry, making Gerad’s life suck.  America is an awesome singer.  Because fuck everything, that’s why.

America and her mother go to some local office in order to turn in the application, and there’s a whole bunch of other women in line. 

Every girl in the province was signing up. I didn’t know whether to feel terrified or relieved.

Both.  Relieved, because your chances go down with more girls and you don’t want to be picked.  Terrified, because this many women actually need that money enough to sign up, and that’s a sign of stuff gone seriously wrong.

America’s mother is named Magda.  Yay, she finally has a name!  They meet up with Aspen’s mother and sisters, who apparently took the day off to come do this.  Well, guess the little kids aren’t eating today, since there’s not going to be money for food.  (Also, the twins are 16.  Can they not do this alone?)

“Yes.” Aspen’s mom spoke in a hushed voice. “I was cleaning at one of the magistrates’ houses yesterday. This lottery isn’t much of a lottery at all. That’s why they’re taking pictures and getting lots of information. Why would it matter how many languages you spoke if it were random?”

That had struck me as funny, but I thought that was all information for after the fact.

Oh good god.  And you’re our main character.  We’re stuck with this level of reasoning skill for the rest of the book, aren’t we?

You know, it was bad enough when I thought the author just forgot she’d used the word ‘lottery’ in the previous chapter.  But no, she has such a low opinion of her readers that she thought we were that stupid.

Seems there’s going to be a picture portion, so a lot of the girls are all done up in their best to look nice for it, except for the lowly ones who didn’t get the heads up. 

Her muddy boots might not make the picture, but the dust on her overalls probably would.

Dust on overalls?  What is it with authors who don’t understand how dust works, or that it’s different from things like dirt?

I looked decent, but I hadn’t gone to any such lengths.

You spent a whole page whining about your clothes and pointing out that you put on ‘just enough’ make up to look good.

Blah, blah, blah, everyone talks about how the main characters are so ‘naturally’ pretty, while everyone else is ‘trying too hard.’  Fuck this book.

Then Aspen’s mother gushes for a while about how Aspen has a secret girlfriend and it’s making him so happy.  He’s even setting aside money.

I couldn’t believe it. Here his family was, trying to make ends meet, and he was putting away money for me! I didn’t know whether to scold him or kiss him. I just … I had no words.

Scold him.  SCOLD HIM!  IT IS NOT ADMIRABLE TO KEEP MONEY WHEN YOU NEED IT FOR FOOD FOR YOUR SMALL SIBLINGS!  SCOLD HIM!  YOU FUCKING MIDDLE CLASS BRAT, THIS IS A BAD THING!

America is so happy about hearing that Aspen is happy that she smiles extra-happily for her picture.  Who wants to be that’s why she gets picked?

I think the tag line for this book should be “fucking middle class brat.”