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Kadooboo by Shruthi Rao

Jan9

Kadooboo: A Silly South Indian Folktale by Shruthi Rao. Illustrated by Darshika Varma. Page Street Kids, 2024.

The word “silly” in the subtitle signals to the reader not to expect anything too profound from this adapted South Indian folktale, but the fact that it’s a folktale, passed down from grandmother to granddaughter, means that the story certainly has some significance and meaning. And it’s fun. Fun is not twaddle, and comedy is not useless. Therefore, classify this one as a humble living book.

Anya’s Appa (dad) is making kadooboo, “pouches of dough filled with sugar and grated coconut.” (Yes, there’s a recipe in the back of the book.) Anya’s friend Kabir is asked to take some home to his Amma (mom). As he runs home, hurrying to beat the impending rainstorm, Kabir collects other friends who come along to share the kadooboo and to get in out of the rain. But Kabir also becomes more and more confused about the name of the treat he is carrying. Is it bookoodoo? Dubookoo? Duckooboo?

This picture book just tells a sweet little story. Yes, silly, but the wordplay and the multiethnic cast of friends elevate the story into more than a simple misunderstanding or joke. The illustrations and the names of the children that Kabir meets show that this is set in South India where all kinds of ethnicities share the same Indian subcontinent, but there’s nothing in the story that preaches “diversity”. It’s just a show-and tell story with funny words that children will repeat and try to remember themselves. The pictured children remind me of Dora the Explorer, so it’s a colorful, 21st century sort of picture book.

This story would be perfect for reading aloud, but the read aloud-er might want to check the ending before attempting the final word in the story. And of course, the story cries out for some homemade kadooboo as an after-story time treat. The ingredients are not too exotic or hard to find, and the recipe instructions a fairly straightforward, although adult help and supervision is required (kadooboo pies are fried in oil).

“The story is a modern retelling of a South Indian folktale my grandmother used to tell me when I was a child. In the original story, a man eats kadooboo at a feast. He hurries home, excited to tell his wife about, and repeats the word over and over so as not to forget it. . . . The kadooboo in this story is a fried dumpling.” ~Author’s Note

I Cheerfully Refuse by Leif Enger

Jan3

My eldest daughter saw this book on my bedside table and asked to take it home and read it. So she read Leif Enger’s newest novel before I even opened it. When she brought it back I asked her how it was, and she said, “Well, it’s good, but it’s rather dark.”

Dark indeed. I Cheerfully Refuse is the story of a man, Rainy, who becomes a fugitive, innocent of any crime, but pursued by a villainous lawman in a dystopian world that has traded law and order for despotism and chaos. It was unclear to me whether nuclear war or climate change or something else or a combination of things made the setting, in and around Lake Superior in Michigan and Canada, so degraded and oppressive. However, something happened to the country and then something else to Rainy in particular, and Rainy is caught in a hellish predicament, not of his own making. So he sets sail in a dilapidated old sailboat to escape the bad guys and find the good.

It is a doomed quest, but Rainy doesn’t give up. He meets with people and situations both good and evil in his journey. And (SPOILER ALERT), he does, after much suffering, win through to a semi-hopeful ending. There’s a bit of magical realism and some futuristic dystopian fantasy as the story winds through the islands and shores of Lake Superior. The plot, however, is not the best part of the book. It’s the words. Mr. Enger is a master at manipulating and communicating with words. He verbs a few of the nouns, and nouns some adjectives and verbs, and mixes up the syntax and casually drops in the metaphors and similes just enough to keep a reader on her toes, reading carefully and slowly, and going back to savor and make sure I didn’t miss something along the journey.

Enger in this book writes lovely sentences like these:

“You’re a man who stops and listens. If that’s not the definition of friendship, it’s close enough for now.”

“Words are one way we leave tracks in the world, Sol. Maybe one day you will write a book, like Olaus did, or Molly Thorn. And people will read it, like I’ve been reading to you. And they will know that you were here, and a little about what you were like.”

“. . . our job always and forever was to refuse Apocalypse in all its forms and work cheerfully against it.”

“[I]t began to resemble what I once imagined church might be like, a church you could bear, where people laughed and enjoyed each other and did not care if they were right all the time or if other people were wrong.”

“One shelf became two. Then a wall. Then eight-foot rolling racks from a shut library in Hayward, Wisconsin. Maudie suggested changing the shop name to reflect its inventory. Bread and Books. Loaves and Lit. Pulp and Provender. Lark laughed off the idea. She said all of it was bread.”

So, I Cheerfully Refuse is a good book, but dark. In times of chaos and uncertainty and change, it might be good to read a book about man living through similar (but much worse) times. Or it might not. I enjoyed the book, but your mileage and ability to stay cheerful may vary.

“I am always last to see the beauty I inhabit.”

The Best Nonfiction I Read in 2024

Jan2

I see that none of these nonfiction books is a biography, although a couple are memoirs and some are biographical, telling a part of the life of one or more persons. A couple of the books are rather controversial, but I found those to be readable and true to my own experience of life in these controversial and adversarial times. I recommend all of the above, but The Three Owls by New York City librarian Anne Carroll Moore was the most comforting and illuminating of the dozen books, taking me out of this time and place to a children’s literature culture of 100 years ago. If we can’t recapture or recreate those times and that culture, we can at least live in them for a little while by reading about the books of that era. The Three Owls: Third Book is a compilation of “contemporary criticism of children’s books, 1927-1930, written and edited by Anne Carroll Moore.” I would very much like to own books 1 and 2 as well.

Links are to reviews here at Semicolon or elsewhere. Starred books are available for library patrons to borrow from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

The Best Middle Grade Fiction I read in 2024: A Baker’s Dozen

Jan1

My children’s fiction reading this year has been influenced a lot by two projects: my project to read and evaluate current day middle grade fiction published in 2024 and my other project to read and evaluate the middle grade fiction of 60 years ago, published in 1964. I found more gold in ’64 than I did in 2024, but there were a few good ones from this past year. I also spent a lot of time with one particular children’s author from the past who deserved all of the awards he received. Links are to reviews of the books here at Semicolon or at Plumfield and Paideia.

Indeed, it was the year of good books from 1964, and the year of Meindert DeJong. If you’ve not read any of DeJong’s award-winning books, and if you like animal stories, you should definitely try one of Mr. DeJong’s heart-warming tales.

Mystery in the Night Woods by John Peterson

Dec26

Peterson, John. Mystery Mystery in the Night Woods. Illustrated by Cindy Szekeres. Scholastic, 1969.

I went to a library book sale a couple of months ago, and I found eight or ten old Scholastic paperbacks for sale for fifty cents apiece. I grabbed them all with plans to read them and see if they would fit into my library. Mystery in the Night Woods definitely makes the grade.

However, let’s deal with the possibly offensive parts first. Flying Squirrel, aka F.S., and his friend Bat are introduced in the first chapter, and right away we can tell that F.S. is a proud and self-centered squirrel. He tells Bat, “When I do something, I want to do it the best!” and “that’s why I’m a success!” So, it’s no surprise that when F.S. falls for Miss Owl and asks her to marry him, he is not willing to take “no” for an answer.

It is a bit disconcerting to present-day sensitivities to discover what F.S. does about his unrequited love for Miss Owl. He kidnaps her and refuses to let her go until she promises to marry him. This abduction is the part that a couple of Amazon reviewers found offensive, but I didn’t read it that way. Of course, the kidnapping is wrong, indeed criminal, but Miss Owl is for the most part unharmed. F.S. is arrested, sentenced by the Night Court, and made to pay for his crime. And eventually he becomes a much more humble and helpful squirrel.

So, it’s a story of “pride goeth before a fall” and “crime doesn’t pay” and “all’s well that ends well.” I believe in repentance and forgiveness as well as justice, and that’s what the book models with anthropomorphic animal characters. I daresay had the characters been human adults doing the same things, my take would have been different. But really, a lovesick flying squirrel kidnaps an innocent Miss Owl, but then repents and helps solve a mystery and foil a major crime spree? It feels like something from the cartoons that entertained me on my childhood Saturday mornings.

“Weasel stuck his head out of the window and whistled. A dark cloud came out and floated past him. Bat looked on from his hiding place. He could hardly believe what he had seen. What was the dark cloud? Where did it go? Bat was sure of only one thing–Weasel was up to something crooked again.”

And there you have the teaser for the rest of the story. It’s a good mystery for the 8-10 year old crowd. Leave it at that. I wouldn’t pay a lot for the book, especially since it’s only available in a paperback edition published in 1969. MY copy happens to be in very good condition, but it won’t last forever. Still, if you come across it, pick it up and give to a child you know who is not too jaded to enjoy a simple animal story mystery.

John Peterson was a successful children’s author who published quite a few best-selling books including Terry’s Treasure Hunt, The Secret Hide-Out, Enemies of the Secret Hide-Out, and the series of books about The Littles, a tiny family who live in the walls of a human-size family’s house. Cyndy Szekeres, the illustrator for Mystery in the Night Woods, is well known for her tiny animal illustrations, and the ones in this book are charming.

Patron families can check this book out from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.

2024 Middle Grade Fiction–Not Recommended

Dec20

Here’s a list of 2024 middle grade fiction books that I’ve read or partially read and do NOT recommend, for various reasons, mostly because they contain gratuitous and unhelpful sexual references, lies about gender and sexuality, crude language and/or just bad writing:

  • Shark Teeth by Sherri Winston
  • The Secret Library by Kekla Magoon
  • A Game of Noctis by Deva Fagan
  • Impossible Creatures by Katherine Rundell
  • Unstuck by Barbara Dee
  • Keep It Like a Secret by John David Anderson
  • The Wrong Way Home by Kate O’Shaughnessy
  • The Misunderstandings of Charity Brown by Elizabeth Laird
  • Jamie by L.D. Lapinski
  • Just Shy of Ordinary by A.J. Sass
  • Gooseberry by Robin Gow
  • Linus and Etta Could Use a Win by Caroline Huntoon
  • Murray Out of Water by Taylor Tracy
  • Crushing It by Erin Becker
  • The Truth About Triangles by Michael Leali
  • Puzzleheart by Jenn Reese
  • The Flicker by H.E. Edgmon
  • Tig by Heather Smith
  • Max in the House of Spies by Adam Gidwitz
  • Splinter & Ash by Marieke Nijkamp

Faker by Gordon Korman

Dec18

What would it be like to grow up with a conman for a father? A conman who swindles your friends’ families out of large sums of money and convinces you that it’s all just part of “the family business”?

In Faker, Gordon Korman, a prolific middle-grade novelist, explores this intriguing premise through the eyes of Trey, a young boy who has been hustling people with his dad and younger sister for as long as he can remember. The family moves from town to town, conning wealthy people out of their money, and then disappearing when the heat gets too intense. As soon as things start to unravel, Trey’s dad calls a “Houdini”—a quick escape—and they vanish, only to reappear later in a new place with a new scheme.

Despite the fact that this is a story about a family of criminals, Korman does a good job of showing that Trey is more than just a product of his environment. As the story progresses, Trey begins to question the rationale his father has always fed him about their lifestyle, grappling with his maturing conscience. I also appreciated that Trey’s father, while clearly a thief, isn’t painted as entirely villainous. He’s a complex character: a criminal with a good heart. In fact, he might be a bit too good a dad to be entirely believable, but this adds to the book’s emotional appeal.

As I read, I found myself thinking, “This is not going to end well,” especially when Trey’s dad uses him and his sister to establish relationships with the wealthy parents of their schoolmates. But Korman manages to craft a surprisingly hopeful conclusion, one that, while somewhat improbable, avoids the darker turn the story might have taken. While the book offers some redemption and resolution, the narrative doesn’t shy away from difficult questions about right and wrong. Trey may come to understand the ethics of his actions, but his father’s repentance and reformation remain more ambiguous.

If you’re looking for a squeaky-clean story with no lying, stealing, or moral dilemmas, Faker is not the book for you. However, if you’re looking for a thought-provoking story that raises important questions about ethics, theft, and deception, this is a great choice. The book offers an opportunity to discuss complex topics like whether it’s okay to steal from the rich, the nature of heroes and villains, and whether criminals deceive themselves about their own motives. Pairing Faker with a version of the Robin Hood stories would make for some excellent discussions about the ethics of stealing from the rich and living outside the law.

Library Girl by Polly Horvath

Dec13

I came across a critique of this story about an eleven-year-old girl, Essie, who has been raised by four librarian mothers in a public library. The critic argued that the story wasn’t believable. Well, of course it’s not. This isn’t a realistic, middle-grade problem novel; it’s a whimsical and exaggerated fairy tale with some real truths mixed in.

“Essie has grown up in the public library, raised in secret by the four librarians who found her abandoned as a baby in the children’s department. With four mothers and miles of books to read, Essie has always been very happy living there.”

Now that she’s eleven, her mothers decide it’s time for Essie to experience the world outside the library and gain some independence. They give her a Saturday allowance (like in The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright) and set boundaries for her exploration. But as Essie makes new friends—possibly enemies, too—including a boy named G.E., she begins to uncover surprising truths about herself and her past.

This book is a mixed bag. I enjoyed the references to children’s literature throughout; they were a fun touch. However, some of the books Essie reads or hears about, like Slaughterhouse-Five, are wildly inappropriate for an eleven-year-old. There’s a recurring theme of the freedom to read without censorship, which is one of the more realistic aspects of the story, especially given today’s library culture.

The narrative is generally clean, though there are a couple of instances where God’s name is taken in vain, which were unnecessary and spoiled the tone. That said, the story remains relatively wholesome. There’s a fair amount of deception and secrecy, but ultimately, the truth comes out. It’s amusing to watch Essie navigate the world of candy shops, novelty stores, and department stores when she’s never really experienced them firsthand, having only read about them in books.

And what about those “real truths”? After some misunderstandings and a bit of trauma, the characters do reach a happy ending—more or less. There are consequences to the characters’ bad and foolish choices, but the consequences are not too severe. Even the villain, Mrs. Matterhorn, the legalistic librarian who wants to kick Essie out of the library, finds her own place in a library that suits her better.

But this is also a story about how real life isn’t like a story. Not all characters undergo perfect transformations. The past can’t be changed, and the poor choices of the past do affect the present. Some characters remain flawed, and not every problem is neatly resolved. In the end, the story acknowledges that life is messy, and sometimes, the answers we seek aren’t so clear-cut, even after everything is revealed.

The Swedish Nightingale: Jenny Lind by Elisabeth Kyle

Dec12

Published in 1964. Biographical novelist Elisabeth Kyle published two books in 1964: Girl With a Pen: Charlotte Brontë, which I read and reviewed earlier this year, and this novel about the life of nineteenth century singer and celebrity Jenny Lind. Kyle also wrote several other “biographical novels,” including works about Joan of Arc, Mary Stuart, Mary of Orange, Queen Victoria, Clara and Robert Schumann, Edvard and Nina Grieg, and Charles Dickens, as well as numerous regular novels for both adults and children. If anyone has read any of her other books, I’d love to hear your thoughts. These two that I read were quite engaging and would be well-suited for voracious teen readers looking for clean, absorbing stories about real people.

As for Jenny Lind, the movie The Greatest Showman did her a great disservice. If she were still alive, I would advise her to sue for defamation of character. The real Jenny Lind was a deeply devout Christian who would never have tried to seduce P.T. Barnum, as the film implied. She was known for her “golden voice” by all who heard her sing, and she was a celebrity in the modern sense—hounded by fans and people eager to exploit her talent, including Barnum himself. Over the course of her career, Jenny Lind made a significant amount of money, most of which she generously gave away to family and charity.

I thoroughly enjoyed reading Kyle’s biography of Jenny Lind. In this portrayal, Jenny is depicted as strong-willed (her friends even use reverse psychology to guide her decisions), yet also kind and generous. Her childhood was tumultuous, with parents who were both neglectful and overbearing , yet after her career takes off, Jenny supports them by buying them a house. Though she initially resists leaving Sweden, she eventually travels to France for singing lessons, and later performs in England and America, including on the famous P.T. Barnum tour.

Jenny Lind herself was a fascinating mix of contradictions: talented yet shy, a child prodigy who almost lost her ability to sing in her early twenties, confident on stage but plagued by stage fright before every performance. She was plain in appearance but transformed by her voice into a beautiful star who attracted numerous admirers, including Hans Christian Andersen and Felix Mendelssohn. Over time, she reconciled all of these contradictions, eventually giving up her singing career to marry and settle in England with her husband and children.

Though Kyle only briefly mentions it, Jenny’s strong Christian faith seemed to be a key factor in preventing her from becoming a spoiled diva. It’s a shame the filmmakers behind The Greatest Showman either didn’t see—or chose to ignore—this aspect of Jenny Lind’s life and character. Jenny Bicks, one of the screenwriters for The Greatest Showman (and a writer for Sex and the City), was likely part of the reason the film’s portrayal of Jenny Lind strayed so far from reality.

In any case, Elisabeth Kyle does a much more faithful job of novelizing Jenny Lind’s story. I wonder how she would have portrayed P.T. Barnum if she had written a book about him?

White Stallion of Lipizza by Marguerite Henry

Nov29

The magnificent white Lipizzan stallions, bred for hundreds of years to dance and delight emperors and kings, captivated Marguerite Henry when she saw them perform in the Spanish Court Riding School in Vienna.

Now she makes this unique spectacle the focal point in her story of Borina, one of the most famous stallions of this famous breed. It was Borina who, at the height of his career, took a fling in the Viennese grand opera. And it was Borina who, as a mature school stallion, helped train young apprentices riders, and thus became known as the Four-footed Professor.

What a delightful story that could lead to any number of delight-directed studies and pursuits! After reading about Hans, the baker’s boy, and his overwhelming desire to become a Riding Master, to ride the famous Lipizzaner stallions at the Spanish Riding School in Vienna, Austria, I was impelled to look up and read more about the Lipizzaners and the school and the history of these horses who entertained the elite society of Vienna. I also became curious about Xenophon and his book The Art of Horsemanship, the earliest known work on the horse and his care. And I developed a bit of an urge to visit Vienna and see the castles and statues and maybe even the Lipizzaner stallions that still perform their acrobatics in Vienna and across the world in dressage shows and competitions.

I also discovered that Disney made a movie about the Lipizzaners called Miracle of the White Stallions. The movie is not based on Marguerite Henry’s book, but rather it tells the story of how during World War II the U.S. Army under General Patton rescued the Lipizzans and other valuable horses that the Nazis had moved to Czechoslovakia at the beginning of the war. Of course, that movie, as well as a 1940 film called Florian, also about Lipizzaners, is another rabbit trail for me to follow up on, soon.

Getting back to the book, the illustrations by Wesley Dennis are a treat in themselves, both the tiny black-and-white pictures that adorn the margins of each page of the book as well as the full color one and two page spreads the show up periodically. These beautiful drawings and paintings should speak to both horse lovers and artists and draw them into the story alongside the text.

Ms. Henry’s story takes place in the early 1900’s, about the time the horse and cart were giving way to the motorized vehicle. Hans has a horse named Rosy and a cart to make bakery deliveries, and he always stops to watch the Lipizzaners come out of their stable to walk to the riding school in the early morning. (Later in the story, Hans’ bakery gets a truck to make deliveries.) Hans is fascinated with beauty and skill of the Lipizzaner stallions, and his nearly impossible dream is to someday be rider who partners with these magnificent horses to bring that beauty to the people who come to watch the performance at the Imperial Palace. Hans’ journey toward that dream is a series of miracles and disappointments that require initiative and perseverance on his part until at last he succeeds in learning the lessons that Borina, the most famous of Lipizzaner stallions, has to teach.

The “moral” of the story is embedded in the text, as Colonel Podhajsky tells his apprentice riders:

“Here in the Spanish Reitschule . . . the great art of classical riding is brought to its highest perfection. This art is a two-thousand-year-old heritage which has come down to us from Greece, Spain, Italy, and of course, France. . . Our Reitschule is a tiny candle in the big world. Our duty, our privilege is to keep it burning. Surely, if we can send out one beam of splendor, of glory, of elegance into this torn and troubled world . . . that would be worth a man’s life, no?”

I am not a horsewoman or a performer, but that quote speaks to me. It reminds me of what I hope my library can be: a beam of splendor, of glory, of elegance in this torn and troubled world. What a lovely thought that can be applied to anything good, and true, and beautiful that God has called us to do, not matter how seemingly small and insignificant.

This book can be borrowed by patron families from Meriadoc Homeschool Library.