A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts-- Ying Chang Compestine

I succumbed to A Banquet for Hungry Ghosts for its unique exploration of historical and contemporary China and eerie supernatural theme. It seems sort of wrongly creepy to also have recipes in the book, but at the same time a fitting tribute to the traditional Chinese means of feeding of those who return from the afterlife.

From Compestine's interview in the San Francisco Gate:

"When I was growing up during the Cultural Revolution, I would fantasize that ghosts would eat up all the kids who picked on me at school and the people who put my father in jail," she recalls. "I wished a ghost would take revenge on them, that there was this invisible power that could come and help me. Then one night last year, I read a story about mistreated mental patients in China, and I thought, who would help them? Then I thought: the ghosts, naturally."

The stories are brief with unexpected developments (and this coming from someone who was OBSESSED with traditional ghost stories as a kid), touching on everything from the building of the Great Wall and the politics of powerful families, to organ donation and corruption in monasteries.

The endnotes at the end of each story give a nice context, adding a bit of substance to what is otherwise just ghosty fun. I won't lie, the recipes make for a weird fusion (e.g. one of the tofu recipes comes a story about a lobotomizing surgeon eating live monkey brains), but it's a great way to present these themes to reluctant readers in small, ahem... bites.

(Also, the pictures are very scary!)

The Skin I'm In-- Sharon G. Flake

Friends, it has been so great to get your recommendations! I have a whole new stack of books from the library and I am very excited to dig in. The wonderful L passed on this recommendation to me from some kids she works with (thanks L... and kids!).

There are certain books that every teen seems to have read, like the Twilight and Hunger Games series. After I read a book, I look it up on online to add the cover design to the blog and check out reader ratings. I am ashamed to say I had never heard of Sharon Flake, but there was unequivocal praise for The Skin I'm In, and almost all of it from young readers themselves. Why is there not a reading campaign for this book?!

The Skin I'm In speaks deeply to those adolescent fears of standing out, not being accepted. Maleeka, the protagonist, is so easy to identify with. I am sad to say that I think this book hasn't gone mainstream on account of race issues-- Maleeka is harassed by her classmates on account of the deep blackness of her skin, a point of self-consciousness that might not resonate with some readers. The book's themes, however, are universal. Maleeka sees herself as ugly, ill-dressed in her homemade clothes, pushed around by her "friends" and put down by her classmates. In Maleeka's journey towards self-acceptance, the book shines a light on what teasing is really about: envy and control. Meanwhile, Maleeka grows to recognize her own potential, stand up for herself, and see who her true friends are.

The themes in this book were so powerful, it only occurred to be later that this would be great for reluctant readers. A strong recommendation for all the middle-reading girls in your life-- at that age, everyone can use a little push.

I Rode a Horse of Milk White Jade-- Diane Lee Wilson

I never would have picked up this book if I had known it was a horse story. I am not a horse girl. I don't understand horse girls (no offense, horse-loving friends; you just keep doing your thing). So why someone would enlist in Kublai Khan's army on account of a horse blows my mind. (My dear brother, a bottomless pit of miscellaneous knowledge, lectured me on the incredible importance of horses in Mongolian culture. Thanks, A, for that. Even so, this seems a little extreme.) Also, why does homegirl bring a kitten with her? I'm just sayin'.

Anyway, as Super Grover would say, on to our story...

Our heroine, Oyuna, is all bad luck. When she was two, she was injured by a horse and has been crippled ever since. Her mother later dies in a tragic accident. No one wants to marry her. She gets to choose a horse of her own, and even she doesn't fully understand why she chooses an old, injured mare. Shaman grandma comes to visit and Oyuna admits that she hears the horse talking to her. Grandma tells Oyuna to prepare for a journey, and then disappears. When the Khan's army comes for the family's horses, Oyuna decides to go with them. Quest ensues. Oyuna makes chit-chat with the Khan (which just seems weird to me) and ultimately gets the swift horses of her dreams. Maybe, thinks Oyuna, it's possible to make your own luck. (In this book, that last point is about as subtle as a whack with a baseball bat.)

This book is all plot. The characters are flattish, and the cultural context seems contrived. That said, it's very fast-paced and readable for age 10-12.

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.

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.