Long Season of Rain-- Helen Kim

The Long Season of Rain starts out rather in a rather unassuming fashion. A young boy is orphaned when a mudslide buries his home and family. Junehee's grandmother brings him to their house until they can find a home for him. The family's dynamics unfold for the reader with a powerful subtlety until it's clear that this book is not about the orphan at all.

Based on the reviews, it seems that younger readers responded very well to the depiction of life in Korea in the 1960s. There is certainly a richness of detail that, in fact, dominates the early narrative. But as an adult, this book struck me as an incredible testimony to the struggles women and female children face in their own homes. The mother is depicted indirectly through her daughter's observations, and yet she becomes the book's most compelling figure.

Though the narrator, Junehee, is 11 years old, I would recommend this book in a heartbeat to older readers.

Born Confused-- Tanuja Desai Hidier

Born Confused is the open-hearted book about South Asian identity that I have been looking for. The book problematizes issues of first and second generation identity beyond the tidy "self-acceptance = yay" that I have now (sadly) come to expect from many of these books.

Dimple Lala is in the summer before her senior year. She lives in the shadow of her beautiful, blonde, spotlight-loving best friend Gwyn, and behind the lens of her beloved camera. These days, Gwyn is busy with her boyfriend, leaving Dimple in her darkroom with all the images of life once-removed. Things start to change when Dimple reconnects with her cousin Kavita and meets suitable-boy Karsh, who introduce her to the young desi scene in New York. Dimple slowly discovers a sense of connection-- to her parents, whose history she is uncovers; to Kavita, who keeps a secret; to her roots and innermost self. But when Gwyn falls for Karsh, Dimple feels herself losing both of them.

As conventional as some of the plot points are, I insist they are handled more beautifully here than in any comparable book. The NYU connection allows Hidier to introduce Dimple to things outside her suburban world-- academic discourse, reconciliation of cultural and personal identity, and more than token treatment of LGBT desis. I love how it's embracing but critical at the same time, proffering a lot of questions and no easy answers. It also seems very fair and right to treat Gwyn's identity struggle on par with Dimple's-- there is more to "finding yourself" than just the color of your skin. The book also breaks the mold in not resolving all identity issues then and there; really, how many young people completely find themselves in the course of a single (albeit formative) summer?

The writing is fabulous and, at times, very funny (the scene were Dimple comes home stoned is hilarious). The book is full of moments that I love-- Dimple's shots of the crowd at an underground/ bhangra dance party, the notes her dad sent her as a kid, the photographic correspondence she had with her departed grandfather, pictures of the beautiful Zara putting on her makeup. The prose is lush and energetic, and Dimple is a 100% genuine article.

Personal note: Dimple's revelations are an echo of my seismic internal shift after learning about this amazing organization and attending their South Asian summit. They do so much for all us ADs (B and C optional).

The London Eye Mystery-- Siobhan Dowd

As a kid, I loved mystery novels. Whenever our librarian highlighted a title with "mystery" in the title or "mysterious" in the plot description, I swear I trampled the other kids to get it to the checkout desk first.

(Ok, maybe I wasn't that aggro. But my enthusiasm for the genre is not to be under-emphasized.)

The London Eye Mystery totally had me squirming in my seat with suspense, much like the last mystery I read and loved. In much the same way, this one also has a lot of other great stuff going on in addition to the compelling plot.

Ted and Kat take their cousin Salim to ride the London Eye, and just can't refuse the free ticket offered to him by a stranger. They track his pod all the way around; when it comes back down again, everyone gets off-- but not Salim. The grown-ups commandeer the investigation into Salim's disappearance; although Ted has some "interesting theories," no one will listen to him except Kat. They decide to conduct an investigation of their own.

Ted-- with his formal dress, BBC accent, and obsession with meteorology-- is an excellent character and a great young detective. He takes everything literally (a manifestation of his Asperger syndrome), which makes for some very funny moments. His system for recognizing other's emotions, and his tics indicating his own feelings, add unexpected dimensions to his narration. He is used to being written off by people and doesn't have many friends; young readers need not have autism to identify with his outsider status. In an addition, there is some very astute observation of family dynamics and racist bullying that gives the story serious substance.

I thought I had the plot all figured out in the first two chapters, but then I realized there was a whole other side to the mystery I hadn't considered. The last bit of unraveling was unexpected; it seems unlikely that the kids would piece it together, but there's no underestimating Ted.

A Step From Heaven- An Na

When I went hunting for contemporary young adult novels about immigrants' experiences, An Na's name came up everywhere. A Step From Heaven is her first book. I thought I'd start there.

Young Ju is only four when her family leaves her beloved grandmother, their comfortable home, and Young Ju's best friend behind to move to the United States. Young Ju believes the US is heaven, where she will be reunited with her deceased grandfather and there will be no more arguments, but her family's life as immigrants is full of new challenges. Young Ju works hard in school and at home to make her parents proud, but nothing can change her father's stingy praise or violent temper.

This slim novel is incredibly powerful, told by the protagonist in a series of vignettes spanning Young Ju's childhood in Korea to her senior year of high school in the United States. The protagonist's younger years are full of particularly delightful sensory imagery. I was struck by the way in which each scene captured so much in terms of the family dynamic and Young Ju's innermost feelings in just a handful of words.

Swimming in the Monsoon Sea-- Shyam Selvadurai

Swimming in the Monsoon Sea is billed as an LGBTQ book for young adults, but I think it's got something much more universal at its heart. This is very much a book about that dark, irrational place where we live at some point in our young lives. This particular book is about being 14, being alone, being a young man, having stuff in your life that needs figuring out, and not being totally in control of how you think and feel.

Amrith is adopted at the age of 6 by his mother's best friend when both his parents die in a freak accident. He loves his Aunty Bundle, Uncle Lucky, and adopted sisters, and it's clear that they love him too. But Amrith does not have anyone of his own-- no friends, no flesh-and-blood relations. He is estranged from his parents' families until his cousin Niresh shows up for a visit. Amrith's affection for Niresh is even stronger than he anticipates, and Amrith soon discovers depths of himself he didn't know existed--love, but also jealousy. (In an effective albeit not-so-subtle allusion, Amrith's drama society is performing a scene from Othello.) By the end of the book, Amrith has started to reconcile some of his complicated feelings about his past, his family, and his identity.

The metaphor of the monsoon sea is perfect for adolescence-- after a monsoon, the ocean becomes muddy and turbulent, with strong currents that can pull you under. Amrith is a good kid, but at times he is possessed by malice and anger, capable of hurting the people he loves the most.

The writing is simple but highly evocative. Selvadurai sets the scene in his childhood home-- Sri Lanka circa 1980-- complete with his fond memories of the place. Very low on plot action, which might be a deal-breaker for some, but the emotional side of this book is incredible.

American Born Chinese-- Gene Luen Yang

I intended to post this book in honor of lunar new year. Oops. Happy Year of the Tiger!

American Born Chinese is one of my few re-reads planned for this year, but frankly it's so amazing that I can't keep quiet about it. At first, Yang's graphic novel appears to be three separate stories, influenced respectively by Chinese folk tales, memoir, and stereotypical sitcom. These individuals stories were enjoyable enough, but when they started to converge into a single story, that was it-- no one could have pried this book out of my hands. Some parts had me laughing; at other times, I felt like I'd been socked in the stomach.

An incredible book about coming to terms with identity.

Also, I had the opportunity to check out some of Yang's original drawings on a visit to this fantastic museum-- highly recommended for visitors to and (residents of) the Great Northwest!

P.S. It occurred to me later that the stereotypes in the "sitcom" narrative were familiar to me at this age, but I am not sure if I would have understood them when I was younger and I am not sure how dated these references are. I would be interested to know what young readers take away from that part of the book.

When You Reach Me-- Rebecca Stead

I knew something was up when two staff at my favorite book store listed When You Reach Me (a young adult novel!) as one of their Top 5 books for the year, and every single review I saw was favorable. I ordered it and by the time it uh, reached me, it had won the 2009 Newbery Medal. I don't have many award-winners on my reading list, for reasons previously mentioned, but I was so intrigued by the reviews-- purposely vague, but enticing-- I didn't think twice about picking up this book.

There is so much going on in When You Reach Me I can’t describe it, and it’s done so flawlessly that I won’t do the book the disservice of trying. It’s a mystery involving a sudden attack on a friend, a missing housekey, a series of unsigned notes, and the growing feeling that something terrible is about to happen. It’s suspenseful and deeply, surprisingly emotional at the same time. It also alludes heavily to my mom’s favorite book ever; it freaked me out a little bit because I felt the book was written especially for me, but I think other readers will feel the same way.

The best thing, the absolute best thing about this book, is that it totally made me feel like my childhood self. Reading it was electric and effortless. I think when I was younger all books seemed like that to me, but it’s been a long time since I’ve finished a book in the course of a single weekday. I structured that day around reading time. I positively tingled with anticipation during my non-reading hours. I stayed up late at night to finish it, and when I finished it I got scared when I turned off the light. It made me feel uncertain about reality in a way that I thought could only happen when your mind is inexperienced and malleable.

You'll have to experience it for yourself.

What are you waiting for?