Camel Rider- Prue Mason

Interesting. A book called Camel Rider that isn't about riding camels. There are a few scenes that involve camels. There is a young camel rider in the book, though he doesn't drive the narration as much as his co-protagonist. So, why did Prue Mason title her book thusly, and why did the publisher put a camel on the cover? Let me guess-- to sell a book about the Middle East. Wouldn't be the first time.

So what is it really about? It's mostly a long chase scene set in a fictional country, presumably based on one of the Emirates. There's a fictional war, too. Bratty expat kid Adam is home alone when his neighborhood evacuates. He decides to go back for his dog because, well, I guess he's young and impulsive and it seems like something a brat would do. Meanwhile, Walid is a camel jockey from Bangladesh who rebelled against his employers and is running away. Their paths cross, and they must rely on each other to escape/ get home safely. They don't speak a common language and they come from different backgrounds, so this is where we get the HEY EVERYBODY THIS IS A CROSSCULTURAL NOVEL.

The plot is pretty thin and the characters on the pithy side, but Mason has done something interesting in talking about these disparate communities living in the UAE. The dialogue involving Walid's cruel masters has a surprising ring of authenticity-- I say surprising, because the book hits that mark better than it does Walid's characterization.

I didn't know what to do with this book. Perhaps it would be interesting to kids who like action-based plot, but it seems like it's all about the "small world" themeology (hey, you have a pet? I have a pet! you like chocolate? I like chocolate!) above anything else. Certainly well-intentioned, but this isn't a book I'd recommend. And to say it's about camels totally misses the point.

Kiffe-Kiffe Tomorrow-- Faïza Guène

I had high hopes for this book. I am seriously obsessed with the dysfunctional construct that is French multiculturalism. I read a lot of Franco-Maghrebi literature in college. I am deeply interested in the narratives of immigrant youth. On all fronts, I should have loved Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow.

False logic. I was disappointed because Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow is really just another story about life in the projects. I use the word "story" very loosely here because nothing happens over the course of the book. Doria lives in the suburbs of Paris with her mother. Her alcoholic father returned to Morocco to marry someone else in hopes of having a son. Doria fails out of school, her mother is underemployed, the neighbors have it rough, cousin goes to prison, the social workers just don't understand, etc. Mom learns to read, Doria goes to hairdressing school and gets over her crush on the drug-addict neighbor, optimism replaces some of her cynicism. Fin.

Guène, raised in the projects she writes about, was only 19 when she wrote Kiffe Kiffe Tomorrow. Girl keeps it real, which I admire. The narrative voice is sarcastic and has a young feel to it-- I'll bet it's delightful to read in French. That said, I found the story itself uninspiring and uninspired. I can't say how many books there are like this in France, but I can see why it got a lot of attention if there is nothing richer to compare it to.

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.