Welcome to Camp
Green Lake
When the readers open the book hoping to find an
actual camp with a nice lake, they will probably be deeply disappointed that
they actually found themselves in a barren wasteland in the middle of nowhere.
That’s what happened to me. As I read the words “There
is no lake at Camp Green Lake.” Irony got the hold of me.
That’s what happened to Stanley as well as he walked
down the steps of the bus which brought him to Camp Green Lake Juvenile
Correctional Facility.
“Stanley looked out of the dirty window. He
couldn’t see a lake. And hardly anything was green.”
If you haven’t met him yet, it’s Stanley Yelnats IV.
He was named Stanley –so was his father and grandfather and great-grandfather– because
of the cool fact that the name is spelled the same frontward and backward.
The only common thing between the Stanleys’ isn’t just
that they have the same name; the skills of having low luck and high
perseverance are also inherent to the Yelnats’. Also every one of them knows
who the reason is for their tough luck and their being at the wrong place at
the wrong time.
“It was all because of his
no-good-dirt-rotten-pig-stealing-great-great-grandfather!”
According to a family legend –which turns out to be
true btw–many years ago Stanley’s great-great-grandfather Elya Yelnats stole a
pig from a one-legged Gypsy; therefore, she cursed him and his descendants.
In the Camp Stanley meets the strange camp guard with
the even stranger name Mr. Sir and other persecuted boys who call each other
with interesting nicknames such as Armpit, X-Ray or Zigzag –not mention that
they call the male counselor “Mom”. And they’re all supposed to dig
holes to build character.
“You are to dig one hole each day, including Saturdays and Sundays. Each hole must be five feet deep, and five feet across in every direction. Your shovel is your measuring stick. Breakfast is served at 4:30.”
That’s all for now, will keep in touch. And don’t
forget btw:
“You’re not
in the Girl Scouts anymore.” –Mr. Sir
w:352
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