Sunday, January 31, 2010

Dogeaters-- Jessica Hagedorn



OK, I made a mistake here. Dogeaters is probably not a young adult book, despite the fact that one of the protagonists is a 10 year-old girl. I have been reading off the beaten path here, and I knew this was bound to happen at some point—I just didn’t imagine it happening quite in this way.

Dogeaters takes place in the Philippines in the 1950s. Said 10 year-old protagonist, Rio, is a great character. Her relationship with her grandmother (“Lola Narcissa”) is particularly touching. Lola would rather spend her time with the servants, eating peasant food, than attending the family’s lavish dinner parties with powerful businessmen and generals as the guests of honor. Rio’s family enjoys a life of privilege, while other characters do what they need to in order to survive. Their lives intersect in a series of events that explore dynamics of power—political, sexual, and cultural.

There is some content here that I think a mature highschooler could handle: one of the chief protagonists earns his living as a prostitute, and there is a particularly disturbing scene involving abuse of a female political prisoner. Also, the writing style is such that I would probably need to re-read the book to fully appreciate it, preferably after doing some independent historical research.

Despite these reservations, Dogeaters is a concentrated wonder of a book. Hagedorn’s writing is rich and evocative, narrated from multiple perspectives and full of vignettes. Her style brings to mind those of authors Gabriel Garcia Marquez and Salman Rushdie—authors who are frequently read in advanced high school and pre-college curricula. I think Dogeaters might be an interesting addition to the reading diet of such readers, who (like me) will find it challenging but also rewarding.

Friday, January 29, 2010

The Cricket in Times Square - George Selden

Have you ever wondered what it would be like to be hanging around a picnic, trying to steal some liverwurst, when all of a sudden you find yourself in the bottom of the picnic basket being squished by the roast beef? And then you realize that you're on a train, and heading very far away from where you were?

Chester the cricket can tell you. You end up in the subway station under Times Square. Fortunately, the Bellini's have a newsstand, and they take you in.

This book is a classic, and I don't know why I've never read it before. It's not very deep, but it was really cute. Definitely a good transition book, most appropriate for 1st through 5th graders. I really enjoyed it though.

Diary of a Whimpy Kid - Jeff Kinney

Greg Heffley is kind of a jerk. He takes advantage of his best friend, who is slightly more of a geek than Greg. He picks on his little brother. He's a little bit whiny. But Greg is in middle school, so I guess that explains everything.

Diary is a quick read, but is probably way more entertainin for 7 to 12 year olds than it was for me. I don't really have anything else to say about it. I read it, but I didn't really like it. However, I know lots of kids who really like these books, so I'm guessing it's just me.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

A Taste of Salt-- Frances Temple



Haiti has been in the news, and in the minds and hearts of many, since the earthquake earlier this month. My wonderful friend E— a middle school teacher and social activist— loaned this book to me, and we had a discussion about how she plans to use the book to give her students some context.

Quite honestly, I struggled with A Taste of Salt, and I wondered if younger readers would also. It certainly gives a vivid sense of place, but its historical perspective has not aged well. (I suppose this is the price someone pays for trying to write about emerging democracy—so much for “new chapters.”)

A Taste of Salt takes place amidst the events leading up to Haiti's first free election in decades. Soon-to-be President Jean-Bertrand Aristide’s inspiring words are the so-called “taste of salt”— the legendary cure wakes zombies from their trance and restores them to life. Aristide first appears in the story as the founder of the home for street children where Djo lives. Later, he is the pastor who delivers the sermons that give Jeremie her political awakening.

Djo and Jeremie’s stories make for interesting reading. We see childhoods in a street boys’ home and a neighborhood built on a garbage dump, the religious education system and bonded labor in the Dominican Republic, a firebombing and riots. Destiny, wrought here rather heavy-handedly, designs that Djo and Jeremie will become part of this new era in Haiti together.

That last bit was the rub for me, considering the turn that history took after A Taste of Salt was published in 1992. Basically, if hope is this story’s lifeblood, the whole thing is eviscerated by the corruption, the human rights violations, the coup, and Aristide’s exile to South Africa. The narrative is possessed a sense of history we know to be dead. It is (yes!) a zombie, but there's no waking it-- Jeremie, you should have thought twice before turning down that scholarship to the Sorbonne.

On a much more compassionate note, you can still support the ongoing relief effort-- you can find a great roundup of links here.

Sunday, January 24, 2010

Peak - Roland Smith

Oh. My. God. This story is...fascinating, terrifying, frustrating, awe-inpiring and brilliant. Peak Marcello is a climber, and at the beginning of the story is caught climbing a skyscraper in Manhattan. Instead of being sent to jail, he is "rescued" by Joshua Wood, his famous mountain climbing father.

It comes to pass that Wood has brought his son to Everest, hoping that Peak, at age 14, will be the youngest person to ever reach the summit, thereby saving Wood's ailing mountain climbing business and netting him millions of dollars.

This book blew my mind. I read for sport, you know; it's a hobby, something to pass the time, and while I will get sucked into whatever story I'm reading at the moment, it's very rare that a book will truly impress me. I finished this late last night, wrote down my thoughts so I could post today, and went to bed. Where I could. not. sleep. I kept turning the book over and over in my mind.

Peak was definitely written for the young adult set; the story and language are fairly simple, and the story is narrated by the 14-year-old Peak. However, the subject matter and setting will make this a fantastic adventure for anyone who cares to read it.

This book is definitely going on my "to recommend" list. Ages 10 and up.

PS: Roland Smith lives in Oregon. Go buy more of his books, and support this wonderful Northwest author.

Saturday, January 23, 2010

Ramona Forever - Beverly Cleary

I have fond memories of reading the Ramona books as a kid. Beverly Cleary really gets kids; the way they think, why they do what they do.

Ramona is spunky and spirited and a great role model for little girls everywhere. She doesn't always behave, but she's never really bad, and she almost always has good intentions.

Reading this book brought back many happy memories for me. It was like going back in time to when I was first reading "big girl" books, and discovering a little girl who was a lot like me.

I would recommend these books to anyone. Especially appropriate for grades 1 through 5.

Flight of the Dragon Kyn - Susan Fletcher

When Kara was very young, she had an illness that no one thought she would recover from. Her family left her near a cave inhabited by dragons, and she was taken in and nursed back to health with the milk from a mother dragon. Kara has no memory of this, but when she recovers she can call birds from the sky. She is an outcast among the people of her father's steading.

King Orrik wants to use Kara to call the dragons that have been plaguing the land, so he can kill them and win the hand of his beloved.

I really liked the second half of this book. Kara meets the dragons, and helps them escape annihilation. She stands up to the king, and is able to get everything she wants.

There is a happy ending, and I understand this is the first of a series. I'll read and review the next in the series sometime this year.

This is a good book for 11-18 year olds.

Monday, January 18, 2010

1001 Cranes-- Naomi Hirahara



Over the course of this year, I hope to come to peace with the so-called “middle reader” novel. These books are rather awkward things, much like the age group for which they are written—mature readers as young as 10, up to 14 years. The language of these novels must be relatively simple, but the story itself must speak to the vastly different experiences within this age group. Four years is an eternity when you consider how much your world can change between sixth grade and your freshman year of high school.

I remember thinking that the protagonists of these books were ridiculous, because as ridiculous as the actions of 12 and 13 year-olds may seem to an adult, they were beyond what I as a 10 year old could relate to. I also found them annoyingly predictable. Yet, as an adult, I have a theoretical respect for what middle reader books attempt to do—that is, to sustain an interest in reading and guide young people from picture books to young adult novels. I think of middle readers novels as a long, rickety bridge between Chris Van Allsburg and J.D. Salinger (although there is also the route taken by the precocious M, who headed straight for Stephen King). I have respect for authors that embrace the challenge and write stories that speak to the difficult realities and inner turmoil of their young readers.

Naomi Hirahara’s 1001 Cranes, had me thanking my lucky stars that I was no longer 12 years old, but it’s one of the better middle reader novels.

Angie Kato arrives in the L.A. suburb of Gardena to spend the summer with her mother’s parents and sister. In the beginning, she longs for the familiar world of her northern California home—her friends, the leisurely afternoons, and her parents. Instead, Angie’s world is full of unfamiliar people, days in the family shop folding paper cranes, and occasional phone calls from her mom and dad as they prepare for a divorce.

In the typical narrative arc of these “formative summer” books, a crush plays itself out towards heartbreak, the protagonist learns that she is more like her mother and grandmother than she originally thought, and her relationships with others become more responsible and emotionally engaged.

The book involves some interesting identity issues. Angie has difficulty identifying with Japanese-Americans; she describes her trips into San Francisco’s Japanese community as part of her “weekend life” as opposed to her “real life.” Observations such as these might be close to home for some readers, insulting to others. Angie has uneasy relationships with other people in general, and she finds the Japanese church-going neighbors, youth group kids, and her culturally knowledgeable grandmother particularly intimidating.

Angie’s family histories are a major highlight of the story: her parents participated in sit-ins in their undergraduate days at Stanford (Angie is named after Angela Davis), her grandmother Michi grew up in an orphanage for Japanese-American kids, and her grandfather was interned in Arkansas during WWII. The Inui family’s experiences allude to the diversity of experience in the Japanese-American community, which may be an interesting introduction to young readers.

Friday, January 15, 2010

Blue Boy- Rakesh Satyal



My father is out playing tennis with a family friend. My mother is singing bhajans as she stirs daal. The master bathroom is all mine. Involuntarily, I sputter the theme from Mission: Impossible. But this mission is far from impossible; I have succeeded at it time and again, so the only impossible mission seems to be not wanting to put on makeup.


Kiran’s parents ignore the oddities that, combined, constitute his charming personality; his classmates shun him altogether. Kiran is accustomed to amusing himself: putting on his mother’s makeup, playing with the Strawberry Shortcake dolls he secretly buys with his allowance, and practicing ballet in the kitchen. But when Kiran tires of the painful isolation, he concludes there is higher purpose to his difference—that in fact, he is an incarnation of Krishna, an avatar of the god Vishnu. He decides to emulate the habits of the revered deity and realize his full potential in life-- a noble endeavor that involves blue eyeshadow, a recorder, and a tub of Country Crock.

The writing is delicious--adept, playful, and clever. So much so that you don’t realize your heart is breaking until it’s too late.

We should have seen it coming. Heck, Kiran should have seen it coming. His peers are incredibly cruel. His parents are not perfect, as much as they love their son. Kiran cannot suppress his differences, or his mortal wishes for love and acceptance. But while other books have left me wondering “why the hell did he do that?” after the protagonist does something stupid, Kiran often admits that he should have known better but he just couldn’t help himself. And, frankly, as a sensitive, closeted, second-generation Indian sixth-grade boy at a mostly-white school in the midwest, his survival is such a thing of wonder that one cannot question his methods.

This book is extraordinary, both for the affection-inspiring main character and the assuredness and flair of his narrative voice. I also appreciate the cultural backdrop of the story, which neither exoticizes nor exploits.

Although Kiran is a sixth-grader, this book is recommended for an older audience on account of a description of, among other things, a Hustler centerspread.

Thursday, January 14, 2010

The Eyes of the Dragon - Stephen King

I discovered this book by accident. As a young teenager (before I hit my pretentious period) I read a lot of Stephen King. I couldn't get enough of Stephen King. Seriously. So I found this book at the libary and brought it home, excited to read another scary story.

Ho boy was I wrong. See, Mr. King wrote this book for his daughter, who wanted a different kind of story. This story has kings, queens, princes, and an evil court magician. It's about love, hate, loyalty and wrongs being righted. It's a simple story where good triumphs over evil, and family and friends win out in the end.

It's definitely written for the younger set, but it's a lovely story that holds up well, even after 20 years. And the illustrations by David Palladini are beautiful, and I always wants to color them in.

This is a great book for grades 4 through 12.

An Acceptable Time - Madeleine L'Engle

I found this book to be a rather poor companion to the Time Quartet. Polly is Meg's and Calvin's teenage daughter, and is spending some time with her grandparents, the Murrys, because she is too smart for school.

Polly has the genius of the other Murrys, but lacks the dysfunctional charm of the others. Polly is smart and pretty, but doesn't have any flaws to balance that out. Meg was grouchy, Charles Wallace was weird, and Sandy and Denys were, well, ordinary. And frankly, with all the weird crap that happened to that family during the course of the other books, I find it hard to believe that Mr. and Mrs. Murry could not or would not believe that Polly had found a time overlap that eventually trapped her 3000 years in the past.

This book was a disappointing follow up to the beloved L'Engle books of my childhood.

Grade D-, Ms. L'Engle.

Monday, January 11, 2010

Marley & Me - John Grogan

Oh man, I LOVED this book. Mostly because it's about a doggie, and it reminded me of my old doggie.

Marley is a crazy, out of control yellow lab who is so "bad" he was kicked out of obedience school. He ate everything, destroyed furniture, drapes and even walls, and was terrified of thunderstorms.

At the end, the author realizes that above all Marley was a mentor to him, teaching him to live each day with "unbridled exuberance and joy" and to enjoy the simple things in life.

This book made me think a lot about Oscar, my dog that had to be put down in 2008. Oscar ate everything, from silicone ear plugs, to lip balm, to an entire bottle of doggie advil (chicken flavor).

This book is excellent for anyone who loves dogs. Or animals. Just make sure you have a box of Kleenex for the end when Marley succumbs to old age.

Does My Head Look Big In This?- Randa Abdel-Fattah



There is a scrappy little girl who you know and love. Perhaps she is your little sister, your cousin, or the neighborhood kid you used to babysit. She’s feisty, opinionated, and principled, but perhaps a little defensive in the face of criticism. Sound familiar? You’ll see her literary twin in the heroine of Does My Head Look Big in This?, Amal Mohamed Nasrullah Abdel-Hakim (“You can thank my father, paternal grandfather, and paternal great-grandfather for that one. The teachers labeled me slow in preschool because I was the last child to learn how to spell her name.”).

Amal is a second-generation Palestinian Australian Muslim who has just made the decision to wear hijab on a full-time basis. Immediately, she learns that she is doing more than defending her personal beliefs—she becomes spokesperson for Islam at her elite private school. Those who have found themselves in that uncomfortable position will appreciate Amal’s story.

The writing style makes this book seem like a guilty pleasure—it’s sweet, chatty, and engaging. Amal’s tone seems immature for an 11th grader, but it's highly readable. The story has its predictable elements: Amal’s underestimation of her classmates’ acceptance, her friend’s victory over body and esteem issues, the inevitable crush trajectory. But there were also unexpected plot developments and dimensions in characters, giving this book substance that I would not expect in average teen chick-lit.

The issue with Amal being a spokesperson, obviously, is that it’s an easy way to spell out a lot of things about religion and culture for the reader. The critique of popular images of Islam, particularly following the Bali bombings and the one-year anniversary of 9/11, is—pardon the expression—thinly veiled. It’s no coincidence that Entertainment Weekly called this book “a fascinating look at Islam” when the story is really about one girl’s spiritual journey.

I am, however, recommending that all my friends get this book for the young female readers in their lives. It's validating for kids who have had to defend or explain their religious beliefs. It's identifiable for young hijabis. But more fundamentally, it treats diversity as a norm. In the world of young adult literature, this is revolutionary. It is not a big deal that Amal’s friends come from different backgrounds—everyone is struggling with their own personal issues, and only some of them cultural.

Even more notable, there are no two Muslim families alike in Amal’s social circle. There arranged and love marriages, converts and “cultural Muslims,” assimilationists and conservatives, all Muslims and all trying to raise their second-generation kids in the best way they know how. While Amal might be the face of Islam at her school, the reader quickly learns that no one person can represent the Muslim community. I have been waiting for a book like this to come along-- alf shukr, Ms. Abdel-Fattah.

Sunday, January 10, 2010

Interworld - Neil Gaiman and Michael Reaves

This book was a lot of fun, but really challenging. There are a lot of big words, and mathematical and pseudo-scientific concepts that are kind of hard to get around. I pretty much had to ignore a good portion of the book, just to get through the story.

Joey Harker is a Walker, though he doesn't know it at the beginning of the story. He's just a goofy kid, who constantly gets lost, even in his own house. Then he accidentally Walks into the InterWorld and gets in trouble.

This is a very visual story, and no wonder, since Gaiman and Reaves initially intended for it to be a television show. They were never able to sell the idea to studio execs, but the published novel is a hit.

The back of the book says 10 and up, and I suppose that's correct in terms of the story itself. Just make sure there is an adult or dictionary on hand to explain the big words. A great vocabulary builder!

The Silent Boy - Lois Lowry

This book was very sad, very short, and apparently belonged to someone named Clark.

Katy Thatcher is 8 years old, and wants to be a doctor like her father when she grows up. Katy is an only child until she is 8 years old, when her parents have another child.

Jacob is a young man, about 13 years of age, and in 1911, when the story takes place, the only words people have for what he is are "imbecile," "idiot" and "touched." Jacob doesn't speak or communicate with humans in any real way, but he has a special bond with all animals. He seems to know intuitively what they need.

The story is well written, and compelling. The ending is told from the viewpoint of pragmatic Katy, so what could have been horrific is merely sad.

Thursday, January 7, 2010

A Tree Grows in Brooklyn- Betty Smith



A Tree Grows in Brooklyn came with me on a cross-country flight. On the plane and in the airport, three different people came up to me and asked if I was enjoying the book, because they remembered reading it when they were young. For many, the book is not only about the experience of childhood, but part of childhood itself.

Not so with me. I first attempted this book as a 12 year-old; I abandoned it because the first scene was just too rosy—it opens on 11 year-old Francie enjoying a glorious summer Saturday. She buys penny candy (“oh! The glorious things I could buy with this nickel!”), checks out a library book (“I am reading every book in the library, starting at the beginning of the alphabet, oh how I wish I could read all the books in the world!”), and surveys her neighborhood from the fire escape of her home (“isn’t Brooklyn the most wonderful place you could ever imagine?”).

At the onset, I was irritated by Francie’s naivete. But then I felt like a huge jerk, because 50 pages in I realized that Francie’s childlike wonder was illustrated largely so readers could observe its near-instant evaporation. The charming father slowly drinks himself to death, the hard-working mother barely conceals her favoritism for the other child, and Francie grows up feeling painfully alone. She plays “North Pole” with the family when they have no more food in the house. She receives poor grades in school when she writes about her life and a teacher lectures her that “poverty, starvation and drunkenness are ugly subjects to choose.” She is nearly abducted by a rapist.

There is a hard edge to the narrative, but it is not without sweetness— the grim bits are folded in the golden honey of nostalgia, by turns poignant and cloying. Ultimately, I was won over by Francie—as the story wore on and she was faced the premature responsibilities and disappointments of adulthood, I was relieved when her old sentimentality and sensitivity bobbed to the surface. I was also touched by Francie’s complicated and yet kindred relationship with her mother, and their shared resolve to keep the family alive.

The most compelling character, however, is Brooklyn itself. The book offers a window into early 20th century New York City, the indignities of tenement life, the troubled diversity of immigrant neighborhoods, and the anticipation of the Great War. The horrors and wonders of Brooklyn are what make this book, particularly for those who know and love Williamsburg.

The ending of A Tree Grows in Brooklyn seems facile but, frankly, had the book ended 20 pages earlier it would have destroyed me. I am therefore willing to forgive the dubious/ highly convenient change in circumstances that allows Francie’s family to pull through. This plot resolution is essential, because otherwise this book would be called A Tree Tries Desperately to Survive in Brooklyn and Tragically Fails.

Wednesday, January 6, 2010

The Invention of Hugo Cabret - Brian Selznik

This book is really cool for one significant thing - about 50% of the story is told with absolutely beautiful pencil drawings interspersed within the written story. The story itself was pretty standard: a young boy is alone in the world and carrying secrets, until he meets an old man and a girl. They dislike each other at the beginning, but come to know and love each other. The book takes place in Paris in 1931, and filmmaker Georges Melies (there should be two accents in that last name, but I don't know how to make them) is one of the main characters.

There is a lot of miscommunication and missed connections between the characters at the beginning, and a lot of the story is sad and anxiety-riddled. The end is happy, though, and I suppose that makes it all right. I feel like the real story is told in the drawings, and the worded parts of the book are there to give context. It was overall a fascinating read, and very quick. I read the whole thing in about 2 hours (which is why I'm doing a second post in as many days).

Because a large part of the story is told in pictures, the age range for this book is vast. There are some big words (automaton, anyone?) but the concepts are simple and the book itself is gorgeous. And the parts that filled me with anxiety would probably not bother most kids, or adults for that matter.

Special thanks to A and B (and their dad) for loaning me this book!

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Howl's Moving Castle - Diana Wynne Jones

I have vaguely remembered images from watching the anime version of this story, but aside from the castle that floats about the countryside, I didn't remember most of it. This is the story of Sophie, eldest of 3 sisters, and therefore destined to fail if she should ever leave home to seek her fate.

After their father dies, Sophie and her sisters are taken out of school and are given apprenticeships. The youngest goes to a witch in the country to learn magic, the middle sister is sent to the baker's shop. Sophie stays and works in her late father's hat shop, where she has a run in with the Witch of the Waste and is turned into an old crone. Sophie leaves home and becomes part of Howl's household. Adventures ensue, and Sophie learns to love - herself, as well as others.

This book is about feeling awkward in yourself, and discovering that even though you might make terrible mistakes and piss people off, they still care about you as you care about them. It is a good story, and I would recommend it, but it didn't really strike a cord with me. I found it very entertaining while reading it, but upon finishing it, my strongest impression was, "That was cute."

This is definitely a good book for strong 2nd grade to casual 9th grade readers.

Saturday, January 2, 2010

A New Year's Resolution

It's 2010 and everyone and their mom has a blog-- not literally, but very close to it. So here's our contribution to the interwebs: between the two of us, we plan to read and blog about 210 young adult novels in the coming year.

Why the No-Twilight Zone?

No disrespect to Ms. Meyer, but our goal is to highlight novels outside of this (and other) high-profile series. We may review new titles from our favorite childhood authors, or Newbery award winners, but we also hope to highlight books that might not be on everyone's radar.

Who are we?

MB

My love affair with books began at age 2. I have read and enjoyed fiction since I can remember. My only requirement is a good story. The big joke in my family is that my parents wouldn't let me watch R rated movies, but they would let me read the books they were based on.

When SB told me about this project, I immediately jumped on the bandwagon. My current average is 2-4 books per week. As an adult I read a lot of science-fiction and fantasy, but as a child I shunned it (with the exception of the lovely Ms. L'Engle). So for this project, my main focus will be the world of young adult sci-fi and fantasy. I will also be reading and reviewing some of my favorite young adult novels, and ones I wish I'd read as a kid.

SB

My childhood loves were reading and creative writing-- one sort of lead to the other, like inhaling and exhaling. I've been struggling for the past year to resume the writing habit, only to realize that I first needed to take a deep breath.

It's remarkable how much children's literature has changed since I was a kid; contemporary novels reflect even the darkest realities of young readers. I have a vague sense of what was missing from the libraries of my childhood-- multicultural voices, topics considered "off limits," books that challenged the limits of their medium. There's a lot for me to catch up on from the past 15 years, and I look forward to sharing my discoveries.

(That said, I have already started my first title of the decade, and it's a classic.)