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Criss Cross, by Lynne Rae Perkins

I started this book, didn’t think I’d like it, and put it down. Then, in about a month, I started it again. And, of course, I liked it. Because my first impressions of books are usually completely wrong.

I suppose you might say there are two main characters in this story. First, there’s Debra (Debbie), an imaginative, wishful and thoughtful girl. Some of her favorite pastimes are helping elderly Mrs. Bruning around the house (and consequently meeting and falling for Mrs. Bruning’s handsome grandson, Peter Bruning, later in the book), hanging out with her neighbourhood friends, and speculating over things (usually nothing at all).

Then, there’s Hector, a slightly pudgy adolescent boy who sees a guitarist and is inspired to learn how to play. Taking lessons from a Presbyterian minister with a few others is how he meets a young girl named Meadow and develops a hopeless crush on her, hopeless because the striking, football-playing Dan Persik is interested in her as well.

Debbie loses her necklace, which is found by a few different people, all of whom make an effort to get it back to her, but in the end of the story…

Well, now you’ll have to read it.

I really enjoyed this because of the different perspectives of all the different characters. The author didn’t just stick to following Debbie and Hector around, but decided to bring their friends more into the story. Just the way the book was written was intriguing.

I liked this book and hopefully anyone who reads this review will want to read it as well.

The Hot Zone by Richard Preston

I spent the day yesterday, unexpectedly, in the emergency room at a nearby hospital. (Everybody’s OK now, but emergency rooms take t–i–m–e.) Of course, I had to take some reading material along, and I chose a book I’ve been meaning to read for a long time: The Hot Zone by Richard Preston. The book is a nonfiction thriller about an outbreak of Ebola virus in suburban Washington, D.C. Did I mention that it’s NONfiction?

As I read about Ebola, maybe the nastiest virus yet discovered, and about how 60-90% of people infected by the virus don’t survive, and about a hospital in Africa that was literally wiped out by an outbreak of Ebola virus, I was sitting in the emergency room listening to a baby crying and people groaning, and I was wondering what kinds of germs, bacteria, and nasty viruses were floating around in the air. The emergency room nurse saw what I was reading and reassured me that “most of those hemorrhagic fevers stay in Africa or Asia, hardly ever here in the U.S.” Since I was reading, at that very minute, about how monkeys from the Philippines carried Ebola to Reston, Virginia in 1989, I was not convinced that the danger was as minimal as the nurse seemed to think. In other words, “hardly ever” isn’t good enough. Do we really need to import thousands of monkeys into the U.S. each year for medical research, anyway? Can’t the researchers go to the monkeys, if it’s really necessary?

Philosophical and practical questions aside, The Hot Zone is well-written, informative, exciting, and scary. The book was best-seller back when it was first published over ten years ago (1994). So some of you have probably read it. If you haven’t and you’re looking for a plot device for your terrorist thriller or apocalyptic dystopian novel, you could probably find it in this book. I can only imagine what that emergency room would look like if one of the viruses in this book managed to get loose in Houston. A long wait would be the least of our worries.

Keith Green, b.1953, d. July 28, 1982

Also on this date in 1982 singer, songwriter, and man of God, Keith Green died in a plane crash which also killed his two of his chldren, pilot Don Burmeister, missionaries John and DeDe Smalley and their six children.

Now there are plans to re-release many of Keith Green’s songs in a sound-enhanced version and to release much music that has never before been available.

That was 25 years ago. Now Green’s work is about to be rediscovered.
EMI/Sparrow Records is painstakingly going through recordings saved by his wife, Melody. An iTunes release with music never before heard by the public is planned for August. More material will be released next year, said Bryan Ward, director of artist development with EMI Christian Music Group.
The July 28, 1982, accident doused one of the brightest lights in the Jesus Movement, a youthful Christian counterculture. The bushy-haired evangelist with a distinctive tenor voice was posthumously inducted into the Gospel Music Hall of Fame.

I’ve written about Keith Green before here and here. I miss his prophetic and musical voice.

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born July 19th

Edgar Degas, artist, b. 1834.

Eve Merriam, b. 1916, d. 1992. She is the author of the picture book A Gaggle of Geese and also a poet, writing mostly poems for children and young adults.

John Newbery, b. 1713, d.1756. (According to Wikipedia, he was baptized on July 9th, not the 19th, birthdate unknown.) Newbery was one of the first booksellers and publishers to specialize in children’s books. His best-selling and most popular children’s book was called A History of Little Goody Two-Shoes. Newbery’s motto, printed on his books, was “delectando monemus” (instruction with delight). Oh, by the way “Newbery” is spelled with only one “r”. I learned this useful spelling rule in library school at the University of Texas, and it has served to make me feel like a real librarian ever since; every time I see someone write about the “Newberry Award,” I feel oh-so-librarily educated. The poet Christopher Smart married Mr. Newbery’s step-daughter.

Marika by Andrea Cheng

A few months ago I read another book by Andrea Cheng, Eclipse, the story of precocious eight year old Peti, the talkative son of Hungarian immigrant parents. Marika, the book I just finished, is narrated by a girl character, a little older than Peti, eleven rather than eight, but it has the same feel of a very serious story about adult problems being told from a child’s point of view.

I’m not sure, judging from the two books I’ve read, that Ms. Cheng is really a juvenile author. I think she writes adult or young adult books with child narrators, told in a child’s voice. The subject matter in the two books includes child abuse, adultery, genocide, and rape (mentioned), and I’m just not convinced that elementary school children would appreciate the rhythm or the content of either book.

That said, however, Marika is a great novel. The blurb in the back of the book says that Andrea Cheng is the daughter of Hungarian immigrants and that Marika, the character and the book, are loosely based on her mother’s story. Marika, the character, is a young Hungarian girl who happens to have three Jewish grandparents. Her family is culturally Catholic, but they can’t escape their Jewish ethnic identity in World War II Budapest. Marika’s struggles to understand this identity and what it means to be Jewish even though you don’t believe in the Jewish religion, even though you don’t want to be Jewish, from the core of the story.

Here’s a sample of Marika’s voice, on the day she is rescued by her father from confinement in a Jewish prison:

“I sat by the window and looked down at the Danube below, flowing so peacefully along its banks. Lots of people wrote poems about the Danube. We had to memorize one in fifth grade about the wind blowing off the water. I recited it to myself, and when I was done, I sobbed.”
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That’s the tone of this book: serious, sad, flowing, yet childlike. Marika does mature over the course of the novel, and that growth is reflected in the way she writes about her experiences. However, as the novel ends, and the reader finds out how the war ended for each of the characters in the story, the feelings continue to be mixed. Some survive the war and the Holocaust, and others, of course, do not, a very adult and true lesson to learn about life.

The Loud Silence of Francine Green by Karen Cushman

“It was probably just a silly rumor, but I’d heard that nuns had their heads shaved, and I was afraid they relaxed by taking off their veils and running around bald, something I certainly did not want to see.”

A lot of this book reads like a “silly rumor”. However, some of it is true-to-history, and how is a young adult reader to tell the difference? Were Catholic schools and Catholic nuns back in the 1950’s really repressive and threatening? Probably some were. Were some people blacklisted for Communist sympathies in Hollywood during the so-called “red scare”? Yes, some were. Did those who were blacklisted become so intimidated and frightened by the questions and the pressure from the FBI that they committed suicide? Not unless they were already disturbed and depressed. (The author’s note in the back of the book says that “at least two” of those Hollywood types who were blacklisted committed suicide, but I can’t find any names or independent verification of this fact.) Did children really learn to fear The Bomb and the Reds so much that they worried that airplanes flying overhead might drop a bomb on them? I’m sure some imaginative children did.

Author Karen Cushman lived in California during the late forties/early fifties. I didn’t. She attended a Catholic school. I didn’t.
She says she was taught to “duck and cover” in case of a nuclear attack. I wa taught to go out into an interior hallway and cover my head in tornado drills, but by the time I went to elementary school in the 1960’s, no one was talking about nuclear attacks or fallout shelters to schoolchildren in West Texas. At least, not to me.

So, I’m giving the events in this book the benefit of the doubt. Nevertheless, I found it difficult to read as a straight story. It felt more like a series of caricatures: the angry nun teacher, the poor Jewish liberal actor blacklisted as a consequence of his compassion for the poor and downtrodden, the friend who speaks out and gets herself into trouble, the pious goody-two-shoes who wants to become a nun, the empty-headed teenage sister who’s only interested in fingernail polish and boys, and the bumbling dad who can’t figure out what to do to protect his family from godless Communists and atomic bombs.

Only the narrator, Francine, felt like a real person. Francine is conflicted; she wants to be friends with Sophie, the afore-mentioned outspoken defender of lost causes, but she doesn’t want to get in trouble. Francine is a self-described coward. She’s become accustomed to being overlooked and ignored, and some part of her likes to be unnoticed. The nuns at school and her family at home never ask for her opinion on anything, so Francine isn’t even sure she has any opinions of her own. Francine’s supposed to be a representation of the American public, silent in the face of McCarthyism and persecution of Hollywood Communists. But Francine is more than a symbol. As a character, she insists upon being more complicated and interesting, just as I’m sure the politics and culture of the 1950’s were more complex and multi-layered than this simple presentation would indicate. And the ending is confusing and would be epecially so for those “imaginative young people” to whom I would think this book is targeted. What happened to Sophie and her father? Did the Big Bad FBI put them in a dungeon somewhere? Did they emigrate to Russia? Did they just decide to move and start over elsewhere? The uncertainty is realistic, but annoying, perhaps giving young people the idea that America in the 1950’s was a place like Chile in the 1970’s where people just disappeared never to seen again except as bodies in a mass grave somewhere.
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It’s a middle school/young adult novel of one author’s experience of the 1950’s, the red scare, and growing up to become a person with thoughts and ideas of one’s own. There’s some humor in the vein of the opening quotation, a decent plot, and one very engaging narrator. In Texas idiom, I’d call it “fair to middlin”.

Reviewed, much more favorably, by Fuse #8.

Yellow Fever: America’s Plague

An American Plague: The True and Terrifying Story of the Yellow Fever Epidemic of 1793 by Jim Murphy.

Fever 1793 by Laurie Halse Anderson.

The American Plague: The Untold Story of Yellow Fever the Epidemic That Shaped our History by Molly Caldwell Crosby.

I read the nonfiction 2003 Newbery Honor book for children and young adults by Mr. Murphy first. All I knew, or thought I knew, about yellow fever before I read it was that it’s carried by mosquitoes, it’s common in the tropics, and Walter Reed figured out about the mosquitoes. It turns out that yellow fever isn’t confined to tropical climates, it is spread by mosquitoes, and Walter Reed had a little help. Oh, yes, and by the way, yellow fever hasn’t been eradicated, and there’s no cure. Treatment consists of rest, fluids, and time. You may or may not survive if you contract the disease. Thousands of Philadelphians in 1793 didn’t. Of course, many of them may have been bled to death by Dr. Benjamin Rush and his colleagues—who also believed in dosing patients with strong, nearly lethal, purgatives to make them vomit and eliminate all the “bad blood” collected in the digetive system. Rest, fluids, and time are starting to sound good, aren’t they?

The American Plague by Molly Caldwell, a nonfiction book for adults, focuses on two events: the yellow fever epidemic in Memphis, Tennessee in 1878 and the work of the Yellow Fever Commission in Cuba in 1900. Over one hundred years after the 1793 epidemic, doctors were still arguing about what caused yellow fever and how to prevent or to treat it. For prevention, some public health officials argued for a quarantine during the summer months if any cases of yellow fever were reported; others favored better sanitation and waste removal. Treatment came back to purgatives, quinine (good for malaria but ineffective against yellow fever), rest and fluids. Over five thousand people died in Memphis during the yellow fever outbreak of 1878 —more lives lost than in the Chicago Fire, the San Francisco Earthquake, and the Johnstown Flood combined.

In the fictional account of the Philadelphia 1793 yellow fever epidemic, Fever 1793, Laurie Halse Anderson illustrates the deadly nature of yellow fever and its effects on the community with a story about Mattie Cook, a girl of fourteen who lives above a coffeehouse that provides her family’s livelihood. Since Mattie’s father is dead, Mattie’s mother, her grandmother, and the black cook, Eliza, run the coffeehouse, and Mattie and the serving girl, Polly, help. At the beginning of the book in August 1793, Mattie worries about her mother’s temper and about how to get a little extra sleep and avoid as much work as possible. By the end of the story, Mattie has been forced to take on adult responsibilities: nursing, providing food for her family, repelling thieves and intruders, and running the coffeehouse, to name a few. The tone and the narrative voice of a young lady growing into a woman are quite similar to that of Ann Rinaldi’s historical fiction novels, anchored by specific historical people and events.

Interesting factoids:

Alexander Hamilton fled Philadelphia to avoid the fever in August 1793. He got it anyway, but recovered so tat he could die in his infamous duel with Aaron Burr ten years later.

George Washington also left the city of Philadelphia, which was at the time serving as the U.S. capital, but he neglected to take many of his important state papers with him. Nobody wanted to go back inot fever-infested Philadelphia to fetch the papers, and Madison and Jefferson contended that it was unconstitutional for Comgress to convene outside of the capital city anyway. So, the country survived without much government at all for the weeks that it took for the yellow fever to run its course in Philadelphia.

Dolly Payne Madison lost her first husband, Mr. Payne, and her young son to the yellow fever epidemic of 1793. Aaron Burr then introduced her to his friend James Madison, and she married Mr. Madison in 1794.

Dr. Benjamin Rush, a devout Christian and generally a good doctor, stayed in Philadelphia to treat the il, and at the height of the epidemic, he saw as many as 120 patients a day. Unfortunately, he truly believed the “cure” for yellow fever was to bleed and poison the fever out of his patients, and so he probably caused many of them to die. Dr. Rush himself fell ill with the fever during the 1793 epidemic, used his preferred treatment on himself, and survived.

George Washington laid the cornerstone for the U.S. capitol in Washington, D.C. on September 18, 1793 at the height of the yellow fever epidemic.

Portrait of Jennie by Robert Nathan

Unlike everyone else in the known universe, I hated The Time Traveler’s Wife. I thought it was way too long, way too confusing, and way too crude and sexually and violently graphic. This book, A Portrait of Jennie, is a much gentler, shorter (125 pages) book with a plot comparable to The Time Traveler’s Wife. I liked it very much.

A Portrait of Jennie was published in 1940; it’s out of print but available used from Amazon. In the story, it’s 1938, and the narrator, a starving artist, meets a little girl named Jennie. She’s a girl from the past, and she inspires a painting that captures the interest of an art gallery owner. As the girl re-appears in the narrator’s life, a bit older each time, she continues to inspire paintings and, finally, love.

Author Robert Nathan wrote many novels, a couple of children’s books, and some collections of poetry. According to Wikipedia, he had seven wives. You wouldn’t think he’d know much about romance and long term love and commitment, but A Portrait of Jennie is poignantly romantic.

A Portrait of Jennie was made into a movie in 1948 starring Jennifer Jones and Joseph Cotten. Nathan also wrote The Bishop’s Wife, a novel which was also made into a movie.

Quotation Time:

“I suppose most artists go through something of the sort; sooner or later it is no longer enough for them just to live —to paint, and have enough, or nearly enough, to eat. Sooner or later God asks His question: are you for me, or against me? And the artist must have some answer, or feel his heart break for what he cannot say.”

The Higher Power of Lucky and Another Place at the Table

Another Place at the Table by Kathy Harrison. Not a children’s fiction title, this book reminded me of the dozens of women I know who are just like author Kathy Harrison, foster moms and adoptive moms who are called and able to parent damaged and abused children who come to their homes via CPS with love, courage, patience, and realism. In fact, I know of a little girl right now who’s adopted and in need of a heart transplant. She’s four years old, and her adoptive mom is pouring out her life at the hospital, taking care of and praying for C. Would you say a prayer for them, too?

The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron. I read these two books back to back, by chance, and they meshed well. Another Place is nonfiction about one couple’s experience as foster parents in Massachusetts. The Higher Power of Lucky is Newbery Award winning fiction about Lucky, a young resident of hard Pan, CA (pop. 43, whose guardian is Brigitte, her father’s first wife from France. Lucky’s mom died in an accident, and Lucky is just as insecure about her place in the world and her future as are many of Mrs. Harrison’s foster children. The Higher Power of Lucky should be comforting and familiar for children like Lucky who live in fosterhomes and other insecure situations, and it mught just help the rest of us understand those children a little better. On top of that, it’s a good story and one which will add new words to some vocabularies (scrotum, crevice, commodity, cremation).

I recommend Another Place at the Table for anyone considering foster parenting or foster-to-adopt. ALso, people like me who are interested in children and in mental health issues should be able to learn something from Mrs. Harrison’s account of her experiences, both good and bad, in the foster care system. I recommend The Higher Power of Lucky for its quirky characters and setting and its true-to-life description of the thoughts and feelings of a kid trying to survive in a family and in a community that are both a little shaky and unstable at times.

Quirky Quotations:

“Lucky had a little place in her heart where there was a meanness gland. The meanness gland got active sometimes when Miles was around. She knew he knew he had to do what Lucky wanted, because if he didn’t , she’d never be nice to him. Sometimes, with that meanness gland working, Lucky liked being mean to Miles.”
(Don’t we all have one of those glands? I believe Christians call it a sin nature.)

” . . . the valve that kept secrets locked up in Lucky’s heart was clamped shut.”

“It made her feel discouraged, like if you took the word apart into sections of dis and couraged. It was getting harder and harder to stay couraged.”

“The sky arched up forever, nothing but a sheet of blue, hiding zillions of stars and planets and galaxies that were up there all the time, even when you couldn’t see them. It was kind of peaceful and so gigantic it made your brain feel rested. It made you feel like you could become anything you wanted, like you were filled up with nothing but hope.”

So, in spite of death (her mother) and desertion (by her father), Lucky’s got “a sense of hope.” And I, for one, am a lot more concerned about that aspect of a children’s book than about any scrotal references.

Best of the Best

The Carnegie Medal people have come up with a list of the 10 Best or Most Important Carnegie Award winning books of the past 70 years; Fuse 8 one-ups them with her own list of the 10 best Newbery Award winning books.

I’m going to choose my ten best from both lists combined:

Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes. Newbery Award, 1944.

The Borrowers by Mary Norton. Carnegie Medal, 1952.

The Last Battle by C.S. Lewis. Carnegie Medal, 1956. (Even though I don’t think this one is the best of the Narnia books, it’s the one that won the Carnegie. And C.S. Lewis on a bad day is better than most anyone on a good day.)

Tom’s Midnight Garden by Phillippa Pearce. Carnegie Medal, 1958.

The Bronze Bow by Elizabeth Geroge Speare. Newbery Award, 1962.

A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle. Newbery Award, 1963.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg. Newbery Award, 1968.

Watership Down by Richard Adams. Carnegie Medal, 1972.

Bridge to Terebithia by Katherine Paterson. Newbery Award, 1978.

Dicey’s Song by Cynthia Voigt. Newbery Award, 1983.

I probably chose more Newbery books than Carnegie books because
a) I’m American and
b) I’ve read more of the Newbery books.

My list is heavy on the fantasy/sci-fi genre with five titles. Two historical fiction titles and three contemporary realistic fiction titles round out the list. I don’t have anything after 1983 because, honestly, I haven’t read as many of those newer books.

However, after I finish my Newbery project, I might change the list. Or maybe I’ll start a Carnegie Medal book reading project.

For lots of reviews of Newbery Award winning books from several contributor points of view, try out Sandy’s Newbery Project.

The Carnegie organization has a Living Archive with more information on the Carnegie Medal books.