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Newbery Boy Appeal

Around Newbery Award time I heard a lot of buzz about the middle grade/young adult novel Okay for Now by Gary Schmidt. Mr. Schmidt had already received two Newbery honors for his books Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy and The Wednesday Wars. So people who really liked Schmidt’s most recent book thought it was time for him to win a Newbery.

Come January and the Newbery announcements, Okay for Now won . . . nothing, zip, not even a mention. Nor was Okay for Now among the finalists for the Cybils, even though it was nominated in the YA fiction category. If I had read the book before the award season started and ended, I would have been pulling for Mr. Schmidt with all my might. Okay for Now is an award-worthy book, and a book worth reading.

So, how to describe this novel? It’s got: drawing lessons, juvenile delinquency, child abuse, Jane Eyre, junior high school angst, libraries, literacy training, John James Audubon, returning Vietnam soldiers, baseball stats, Apollo rockets, ice cream and Coca Cola, horseshoes, Percy Bysshe Shelley-hatred, a cranky playwright, redemption, hope and change. Oh, and my favorite actor, Jimmy Stewart, makes a non-speaking cameo appearance. What more could you ask?

The narrator and protagonist, Doug Swieteck, has a voice that is both memorable and endearing. He’s something of a bully as the novel begins, and I wasn’t sure I was going to like him or the book. But then, sign of a really good author, Gary Schmidt managed to enlist my sympathies by slowly revealing the secrets and influences that have come together to make Doug the boy he is: a survivor. I was drawn into the story and into sympathy with the main character almost imperceptibly. And that’s only part of what makes Okay for Now a great book.

Here’s an article about Gary Schmidt.
Review of Okay for Now by Elizabeth Bird at Fuse #8 Production. (Ms. Bird does longer, more thorough reviews than I do, and I like and agree with what she said about this novel.)

The book that actually won the Newbery, Dead End in Norvelt by Jack Gantos, was, I suspect, trying to be the same kind of book as Okay for Now: historical fiction about a boy growing up in a rather quirky small town, lots of boy-appeal. However, whereas Okay for Now has many humorous moments and characters, it’s essentially a serious book about a boy surviving a traumatic childhood. Dead End is essentially a comedic novel about a boy living in a town full of crazy people. The boy who narrates and lives the story is named Jack Gantos, so I assume the novel is somewhat autobiographical.

The problem with Dead End, for me, was that I didn’t laugh. I didn’t even smile much. I mostly got that quizzical look on my face that you get when you wonder what in the world these people are thinking or doing???? Poison the rats in your basement with doctored chocolates? Really? Gather mushrooms in the wild to make meals for the elderly? Really? Sneak into an old lady’s house dressed as the Grim Reaper to see if she’s still alive and hope you don’t scare her to death? Really? Mow down your mom’s cornfield when you know she’s going to be really mad, just because your dad will be mad if you don’t? Really? And those are only a few of the minor plot points I had trouble suspending disbelief for.

Dead End in Norvelt gets an E for effort, but we each have our own sense of humor. Mine just wasn’t susceptible to Mr. Gantos’s brand of comedy.

Then, there were the plot holes. (These questions may include spoilers.) Five or six (I lost count) murders and no one even figured out till the very end that the deaths were not natural? Jack’s dad learns to fly an airplane in two or three easy lessons? Why did Jack’s mom ground him in the first place when he was only doing what his dad told him to do? Because she’s crazy? If anything in this book didn’t make sense, it was chalked up to the idea that “they’re all nuts.”

Checking in again at Fuse#8, Ms. Bird says Dead End in Norvelt is “weird” and “may also be one of the finest he’s (Gantos) produced in years.” She obviously liked it better than I did. I’m also not as observant as Ms. Bird because I ddn’t notice until she pointed it out that the two books have very similar cover pictures.

Dead End in Norvelt gets a few points for a more evocative and memorable title, but Gary Schmidt was cheated out of a Newbery-award as far as I’m concerned.

Breadcrumbs by Anne Orsu

“I believe that the world isn’t always what we see. I believe there are secrets in the woods. And I believe that goodness wins out. So, if someone’s changed overnight—by witch curse or poison apple or were-turtle—you have to show them what’s good. You show them love. That works a surprising amount of the time. And if that doesn’t save them, they’re not worth saving.”

Breadcrumbs is a surprisingly expressive and meditative tale in the tradition of the Chronicles of Narnia and of Rebecca Stead’s Newbery award-winning When You Reach Me. The story teeters on the edge of despair, and as in the ending to Tolkien’s The Lord of the Rings, not everybody necessarily lives totally and completely happily ever after. There is a price to be paid for the rescue of a soul from the clutches of cold and darkness, which is what this particular story is all about.

Ten year old Hazel has a friend named Jack. Hazel and Jack are best friends. But one day Jack rejects Hazel, and then he goes off with the White Witch/Snow Queen into the woods and into the far North. The story echoes Hans Christian Andersen’s The Snow Queen, and it also picks up on other Andersen tales such as The Little Match Girl, The Red Shoes, and The Wild Swans. The story also makes allusions to A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle, the fantasy novels of Philip Pullman, JK Rowling’s Harry Potter books, and other fantasy classics, comic books, and fairy tales.

Ms. Orsu’s novel is rife with points for discussion and even argument. How does Hazel keep going on her quest to rescue Jack when she has no hope, no inner strength, and thinks she is literally “nothing.” Where does Hazel get the strength to escape from the snares placed in her way by the world of the woods while others are entrapped forever? What does it mean that Hazel is willing at the end of the story to make new friends and let go of Jack to some extent?

I liked the novel very much, and I liked the questions it raised. Older children and young adults who enjoy thoughtful fantasy/science fiction, such as A Wrinkle in Time and the fairy tale novels of Donna Jo Napoli, will probably like this story of love, friendship, and perseverance.

Other reviews of Breadcrumbs:
Amy at Hope Is the Word: “Replete with literary allusions and even archetypes, Breadcrumbs hovers on the edge of meaning–growing up, friendship, selfhood, it’s all in this story, but it’s right under the edge. I think much of this might be lost on its target audience; I struggle with identifying it all myself.” (Me, too. I think it’s reflective of our times that the author was hesitant to spell out the exact meaning of the story. Andersen ended The Snow Queen with a verse from the Bible. One can hardly imagine a modern author doing the same and actually appealing to a broad audience.)

Sprouts Bookshelf: “Hazel never wavers from the notion that Jack, the real Jack is still in there, and that he needs her now even more than he ever has. Quite a commentary on growing up but not away, this one.” (Maybe that’s the key: it’s a novel about identity and friendship and hanging onto both. To rescue someone you have to know who you are and who he is and who the two of you are together.)

Bekahcubed: “Their friendship might not last through this adventure. Jack might be changed. Hazel might be changed. When Hazel sets out to rescue her friend Jack, she has no promises that life might return to usual. She might be able to rescue Jack, but she has no illusions that she’ll be able to get her friend back.” (Yes, this aspect of the story really spoke to me. Even fairy tales, maybe especially fairy tales, don’t always work out exactly the way you want them to, the way you had planned in your mind. Andersen’s tales in particular are sort of sad and not very happily-ever-after. But that’s the way things are in this world, and the world of fantasy and fairy tale isn’t really a different world at all: it’s only a reflection of the fallen world where we all live.)

Interview with Anne Orsu at Little Willow’s bildungsroman.

Interview with Ms. Orsu at The Reading Zone.

Girl of Fire and Thorns by Rae Carson

I can’t count this one for my North Africa Challenge, but the geography and culture of this fantasy world sort of felt like North Africa–or the American southwest: desert winds, adobe houses, camels, cowls and robes, a language related to Spanish or Portuguese.

The story itself reminded me of Dune, not just the desert setting but also the political intrigue and war strategy. Dune is, if you’ve read it, a bit more sophisticated than this book, but then again while author Frank Herbert (Dune, Dune Messiah, and many sequels) overdid the philosophical and political complications to the point of farce, the world of Girl of Fire and Thorns feels more believable and down to earth, if one can use that term in reference to a work of fantasy.

Our protagonist, Princess Elisa, second daughter of King Hitzedar de Riqueza of Orovalle, feels fat, useless and unloved. Then, when she is rushed into an arranged marriage with King Alejandro of the neighboring country of Joya d’Arena, she feels even more disregarded and unappreciated. Alejandro won’t even announce their wedding in his own kingdom for some reason, and the marriage remains unconsummated. Elisa carries the Godstone, the special gifting that only comes into the world once in a generation, but her special gift doesn’t mean anything when she doesn’t know what her service is supposed to be or how to find out.

Religion plays a big part in this story, another aspect reminiscent of Dune. Elisa prays and receives answers to her prayers, assurance of God’s presence through the Godstone which turns warm in the midst of prayer and praise and icy cold in the face of danger. The religious practices and tenets in the world that Ms. Carson has created for her debut novel are not really like any one religion that exists in this world, although the “Sancta Scriptura” that is quoted sounds a lot like the Hebrew psalms in English translation. Anyway, it’s good to see religious practice integrated into a fantasy novel instead of its being jettisoned in favor of a modern, evolved consciousness or vague spirituality.

The moral dilemmas and the coming of age of the main character are all a part of the novel, too, making it a classic fantasy with the usual themes. But Girl of Fire and Thorns is fresh and compelling. Without its becoming a feminist tract, the novel has a strong female protagonist who deals with her own weaknesses without becoming dependent on a man for her salvation and her growth as a character. Elisa is a well-rounded character, sometimes weak and self-indulgent, but finally reaching within herself and looking to God to find the strength she needs to carry out the task assigned to her for the sake of the people of her country and of her world.

The final plus for this novel is that it’s self-contained. It has a perfectly adequate ending, and although I see the wiggle space for the sequels in a planned trilogy, I didn’t feel cheated or teased by a cliffhanger ending. I appreciate that kind of respect shown by the author for her readers, and I will reciprocate by reading the next two books in the series, if they’re anywhere near as good as this one.

100 Valentine Celebration Ideas at Semicolon.

Love Twelve Miles Long by Glenda Armand

How long is a mother’s love for her son? Twelve miles long. Frederick’s mama must walk twelve long miles to visit her son who lives in slavery in the master’s Big House while his mother toils far way in the fields. Mama measures her journey in twelve miles of forgetting, remembering, listening, looking up, praying, singing, smiling, dancing, giving thanks, hoping, dreaming, and loving. And she tells Frederick the story of her twelve miles so that he will know who he is and how much she loves him.

Love Twelve Miles Long is illustrated with the beautiful paintings of artist Colin Bootman. In fact, here’s a link to a couple of desktop background illustrations from Love Twelve Miles Long. The story is based on stories from the 1820’s childhood of abolitionist, escaped slave, writer and public speaker Frederick Douglass. In his autobiography Douglass wrote that his mother taught him that he was not “only a child but somebody’s child.”

The love and encouragement of a parent, mother or father, can give a child confidence to rise above difficult circumstances and become more than his background would indicate that he can achieve. I can picture a mother and child reading this book together and using that reading as an expression of love and support.

Four brave employees from LEE & LOW BOOKS set out to see what it is like to walk twelve miles through the streets of New York City from Zuccotti Park to Frederick Douglass Circle in Harlem to the New York Public Library. It turned out to be a long walk.

Mama had told him that there were things he could not count or measure: there were too many stars, the ocean was too wide, and the mountains of corn were too high. But there was one thing he could measure. Frederick knew with all his heart that his mama’s love was twelve miles long.

Unit studies and curriculum uses for Love Twelve Miles Long: Biography, Black History Month, Frederick Douglass, Family Traditions, Heroism, Mothers, Christian Heritage, Slavery, United States History.

100 Valentine Celebration Ideas at Semicolon.

Desert Elephants by Helen Cowcher

“In Mali, West Africa, the last remaining desert elephants follow the longest migration route of any elephant in the world. THeir largest circular route is 300 miles long across harsh land just south of Sahara desert. When the dry season begins, they start their journey for water. Their lives depend on it.”

This 2011 nonfiction picture book tells the story of the desert elephants of the Sahel. These elephants live in a area called the Gourma in central Mali. The tribes that live in this same area are the Dogon, Fulani, and Tuareg peoples. The book tells how the elephants migrate to find water during the dry season and during the rainy season, and it also tells about the tribal peoples’ efforts to live in harmony with the elephants and to not disturb them.

The illustrations are lovely, showing the beauty of the elephants and of the people that live near them. the vibrant colors in the people’s clothing and environment will help to dispel the image of desert Africa as a land of sand-colored tents and fabrics and not much more. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Ms. Cowcher says, “These dramatic textiles are another way of communicating. Designs can include popular goods like fans, phones, stoves, or water pumps or more traditional symbols like hands, fingers, or eyes.”

The book also shows the importance of radio communication in the parts of the world where many of the people are illiterate and are spread out over miles of territory. “The radio tells people about how to protect the land they share with the elephants, gives them advice on health and education, and broadcasts programs about women’s issues. . . Radios also play soap operas and music.”

Curriculum and unit study uses for Desert Elephants: deserts, elephants, mammals, Africa, North Africa, West Africa, the Sahel, the Sahara, Tuareg, Dogon, Fulani, Black History Month, environments, conservation, water.

Nonfiction Monday, a round-up of reviews of children’s nonfiction books is hosted to day at Capstone Connect.

The Romeo and Juliet Code by Phoebe Stone

I like reading books that are re-imagined versions of Shakespeare’s plots, and that’s why I checked out The Romeo and Juliet Code. But it’s not that sort of book at all.

Instead, The Romeo and Juliet Code plays into another interest of mine: World War II and spies. Felicity Bathburn Budwig is a very, very British eleven year old girl who ends up in Maine at her estranged grandmother’s house by the sea. The year is 1941, and London, Felicity’s former home, is in the midst of The Blitz. When Felicity’s parents, Danny and Winnie, leave her to live with Danny’s American family–Uncle Gideon, Aunt Miami, and The Gram—Felicity is sure that Danny and Winnie will soon come back to get her and take her home, to England, where she belongs.

Felicity has a stuffed bear named Wink who reminded me of Paddington for some reason. And her American family is odd enough to people the pages of a fantasy novel rather than the straight historical fiction that this story purports to be. Then, there’s also someone named Captain Derek who may or may not live in a secret room upstairs. And there are secret letters, and a code, and an island and a lighthouse, and Aunt Miami who’s obsessed with Romeo and Juliet. All put together it’s the sort of story an imaginative girl could concoct in perilous times, and the point of view feels right. Strange, but right.

The problem would be finding the right readers, those who would enjoy a spy story that’s not very fast-paced or danger-filled, or a quirky family story that turns out to be quite realistic, or a historical fiction novel that has a lot of precious-ness mixed in with the history. If any of that admixture sounds like your cuppa, you might want to check out this Brit-comes-to-America-and-finds-a-home story of a girl nicknamed Flissy. Just know that Romeo and Juliet play a rather small part in the whole gallimaufry.

12 Best Children’s and Young Adult Novels I’ve Read in 2011

Some of these were actually published in 2011; some were older but good-er.

The Rise and Fall of Mount Majestic by Jennifer Trafton. Semicolon review here.

How to Save a Life by Sara Zarr. Not reviewed yet.

The Berlin Boxing Club by Robert Sharenow. Semicolon review here.

Lord of the Nutcracker Men by Iain Laurence. Semicolon review here.

For Freedom: The Story of a French Spy by Kimberly Brubaker Bradley. Semicolon review here.

Divergent by Veronica Roth. Semicolon review at Breakpoint Youth Reads.

Daughter of Xanadu by Dori Jones Yang. Semicolon review here.

Trash by Andy Mulligan.

Ship Breaker by Paolo Bacigalupi. Semicolon review here.

With a Name Like Love by Tess Hilmo. Semicolon review here.

Invisible Inkling by Emily Jenkins.

Fallen Grace by Mary Hooper. Semicolon review here.

For more great children’s and YA literature of 2011, check out the 2011 Cybils Finalists.

With a Name Like Love by Tess Hilmo

Somewhere along the way, however, the good reverend decided a small town meant a poor town, and a poor town meant humble people. Ollie’s daddy was born to preach to those people. His daddy had been a traveling preacher, as was his daddy before him, all the way back to the time of Moses. The Good Lord ushered him into that long line of preachers, and then his parents gave him the name Everlasting Love.
It was everything he was.

A children’s novel with a father/preacher character who is not cruel, not confused, not pathetic, and not looney is a rare jewel. I can think of one, off-hand, Kate DiCamillo’s Because of Winn-Dixie. Now there’s a second.

And thirteen year old Olivene Love (Ollie), eldest daughter of Reverend Everlasting Love, is a PK who has no problem with being the daughter of a preacher; she just wishes he would settle down and preach in one place. The Love family spends three days holding a revival in one small town before moving on the next one: “[p]reaching, mostly—some singing and an occasional healing if the need arises.” Ollie is ready to stay in one place for a while, make friends, experience indoor plumbing and life in a house rather than a travel trailer.

I loved the characters in this book for middle grade readers. Ollie’s daddy gives her good advice:

“Be careful when you listen to people called they, Olivene. They often tell lies.”

“Some people are broken. They don’t know anything other than hatred. It’s like their heart gets going in the wrong direction early on in life, and they can never quite manage to bring it back around to love. It’s a sad thing and we should have compassion for them. Think of the joy they are missing in life.”

Ollie herself is a good girl, typical oldest child. Reverend Love says to her, “You are an example for your sisters in word and deed. I am blessed to call you mine.” Yet, Ollie isn’t perfect, not too goody-goody; she still gets impatient with her younger sisters, tired of living on the road, and sometimes a little too bossy for her own good. She reminds me of my eldest, whom I am also blessed to call mine.

Ollie’s mama, Susanna Love, is “like living poetry” as she welcomes the people who come to the revival meeting. Her sister, Martha, is the pessimist who’s always counting in her head to see who gets the most privileges or treats, but Martha is also the one who gets things done. Gwen, the third sister, is the spitting image of her father, and she wants to become a preacher just like him. Camille, sister number four, is “simple in mind”, but she almost has the dictionary memorized and has “an air of grace and dignity.” Ellen, the baby of the family, is friendly, a tagalong, and eager to please. Together, the Love family has a character and winsomeness all their own, rivaling other great families of literature such as the the Marches, the Melendys, the Moffats, the Penderwicks, or All-of-a-Kind Family. Actually, they remind me a little bit of the Weems family in Kerry Madden’s series Gentle’s Holler, Louisiana’s Song, and Jessie’s Mountain, maybe because of the time period (1950’s) and because of the way that each of the girls in the family has her own personality and way of coping with life in a preacher’s family.

With a Name Like Love is a good family story with a good plot (I didn’t mention the plot, but there’s a murder to be solved, friendships to resolve, and family decisions to be made) and excellent, heart-grabbing characters. Highly recommended.

What are your favorite families in children’s literature?

Saraswati’s Way by Monika Schroder

Twelve year old Akash sees patterns of numbers in his head. The village math teacher can only take him so far in math, bu he puts an idea in Akash’s mind of winning a scholarship to a school in the city. So Akash prays to Saraswati, the goddess of knowledge and wisdom, to make a way for him to hire a tutor to teach the math he needs to know to pass the scholarship examination.

The last book I read, Words in the Dust, was set in Afghanistan and was very Muslim, and now this book, set in India, is very Hindu. Akash prays to Saraswati, goes to the temple, performs Hindu funeral rites for his father (Bapu) in hopes that his Bapu’s soul will be freed to go . . . somewhere good. If this honest and vivid depiction of Hindu religion makes you uncomfortable, as I must admit it did me to some extent, then maybe that’s a good thing. I tend to forget that there are people who live and die in the grips of what I would consider an enslaving and false religious tradition.

Akash becomes a child of the streets, living in the railway station in Delhi. He works and works to find a way to attend a school where he can learn more, especially more math. He makes some good decisions (saving his money and not sniffing glue) and some nearly disastrous ones (dealing drugs to make money). And in the end, the reader is left with only the hope that Akash might, just possibly, be able to go to school and get off the streets.

Author Monika Schroder says in her Author’s Note:

A boy like Akash has only a slim chance of fulfilling his dream in contemporary India. Yet I wanted to write a hopeful book about a child who, with determination, courage, and some luck, achieves his goal against all odds.

If you like this book about a street child in India and you’re interested in similar or related stories, I recommend:

Boys Without Names by Kashmira Sheth. Brief Semicolon review here.
Monsoon Summer by Mitali Perkins. Semicolon review here.
Homeless Bird by Gloria Whelan.
What Then, Raman? by Shirley Arora.
The movie, Slumdog Millionaire.

Words in the Dust by Trent Reedy

I found the story behind this book almost as intriguing as the book itself. In an author’s note at the end of the book, Mr. Reedy says he wrote the novel by accident. He planned to write children’s books set in small town Iowa, but he was sent to Afghanistan in 2004 as a part of an Army National Guard unit. At first, he hated his job providing security for reconstruction teams that were rebuilding Afghanistan’s infrastructure after decades of war and repression. He felt as if he were being cheated of his chance to repay the Al Qaeda terrorists for their actions on 9/11. Then, he began to meet and get to know average Afghan people, including a girl named Zulaikha who was afflicted with a cleft lip. American army surgeons were able to perform corrective surgery on Zulaikha’s lip and palate. And Mr. Reedy had a story that that he was anxious to tell.

“I have never been a girl and I am not an Afghan. Many would say that stories about Afghan girls should best be told by Afghan girls. I agree completely. I would love nothing more than to read the story of the girl who we helped in her own words. However, the terrible reality is that by some estimates, 87 percent of Afghan women are illiterate. . . Though progress is being made in Afghan education, too many Afghan girls are unable to get their stories out. In spite of this, or maybe even because of it, I believe it is very important for more Afghan stories to be told, as a greater understanding may foster peace.”

So, Words in the Dust is the fictional story of Zulaikha, a Muslim girl living in northern Afghanistan, based on the story of the real Zulaikha and on the stories of other people Mr. Reedy met during his time in Afghanistan. I thought the story was fascinating, true to life as far as I am able to judge, and somewhat horrifying. Some really, really bad things happen in Zulaikha’s life in in her family. So this book is not for young readers or tender minds. Mr. Reedy describes the bad stuff in a respectful, almost understated, way, but it’s still bad stuff.

So I would classify this book as Young Adult fiction, emphasis on the adult. Zulaikha is an engaging heroine, and again quite representative of what I would think Afghan girlhood is really like. The culture is very Muslim, very male-dominated, and the book ends with Zulaikha’s hopes for the future along with the word, Inshallah, “God willing”. Words in the Dust would be a good introduction to life in a traditional Muslim culture in a country that has been torn by war and nearly destroyed by Taliban terrorism and persecution of females.

I appreciated the story and the look into another way of life and the possibilities and problems that are present in Afghanistan even now.