by Eugene Yelchin
ages: 9+
First sentence: “My dad is a hero and a Communist and, more than anything, I want to be like him.”
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Sasha lives in Moscow, in Stalinist USSR, and wants to be exactly like his dad, a member of the State Security. The first step, of course, is joining the Young Pioneers.

Except, on the day when he was supposed to be inducted and everything was supposed to go just perfectly, Sasha’s world falls apart. First, his father gets arrested in the middle of the night; but Sasha figures it’s just a mistake. Then, his aunt won’t take him in. But at school, things get really weird. It doesn’t help that he accidentally breaks the nose off a Stalin statue — a federal offense, punishable by death — in the hall, which sets off a chain of events that leads to a basic revelation: maybe Stalin isn’t all that Sasha thought he was.

On the one hand, I can see how this is an important book. Instead of showing the horrors of Stalinism (and there are many) from the concentration camps (see Between Shades of Gray for that), it shows what it was like for an ordinary Soviet citizen. One who thought himself, and his family, to be in Stalin’s good graces. And who, like many ordinary Russians back then, got caught up in a web of conspiracies and lies that wrecked his life.

This should have been a powerful story. One of courage in the face of hopelessness and helplessness. Except, in many ways, this slim novel (which was gorgeously illustrated, by the way), it just didn’t live up to its potential. If was was being uncharitable, I would say that Yelchin didn’t quite know how to  handle a tough topic like this for younger readers. But, I’m not sure that’s what it is. See, this is really a confusing little book; as a reader, you never know quite what to believe or whom to trust, and I think that was done intentionally. It felt like Yelchin wanted to capture the sense of confusion, of suspicion, of mistrust that existed in the USSR back then. In that, he succeeded, though I’m not sure how well.

I’m not sure how much sense I’m making. The bottom line is this: I get what Yelchin was trying to do with his book, but I’m not sure 9-year-old kids will. However, this one will be the jumping point for a lot of discussion, not just on the USSR and history, but on following the crowd versus doing your own thing.

Which makes it very much worth your time.

by Richard Unger
ages: 11+
First sentence: “I can’t stop crying.”
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Review copy provided by my place of employment.

Caleb steals things.

Not just anything: artifacts from history.

See: he works for Uncle as a time snatcher, someone who goes through history procuring important artifacts for clients.

On the one hand: this is way cool. The idea of time travel for theft is a clever one, and Unger comes up with some pretty neat technology to make it happen. In addition, Unger finds some great minor moments in history to feature in the book.

The hitch: Caleb doesn’t do this by choice.

He and all the other snatchers in Uncle’s employ — including Caleb’s love-interest, Abby, and his arch-nemesis (we need a nemesis?), Frank — are orphans, and Uncle is, shall we say, less than a kind benefactor. Caleb and his fellow snatchers are there until death, pretty much. There is no way out. 

And this is the other hand: it all sounds quite grim and hopeless. This book is one bit of drama on top of another: Frank is stealing Caleb’s snatches out from under him, he’s being groomed to be the next Uncle, and then he kidnaps (for Uncle, of course) a kid — Zach — Caleb befriended on one of his snatches. That’s not even mentioning the fact that Caleb thinks that Abby like-likes Frank. It’s not a happy book. It’s not a light book. And while the premises is a good one, it’s not even a fun book.

So, of course, Caleb has to risk everything to get Zach back to his family. It’s the only human thing for Caleb to do. And here we come to my real problem with this one: it just petered out. I’m not sure how it could have done anything else, but a good third of the conflict that was introduced wasn’t resolved. Which I don’t mind, generally speaking, but it kind of seemed pointless.

And in the end, I didn’t like this one as much as I hoped it would.

(Just for the record: because this is a Cybils nominee, I’ve been asked to make sure y’all know this is my opinion only, and not that of the panel.)

by Maryrose Wood
ages: 9+
First sentence: “‘Lumawoo, look.'”
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Others in the series: The Mysterious Howling, The Hidden Gallery

The best thing about this one is that finally (!) some of the questions I’ve had are finally being (slowly) answered.

See, Lord Frederick’s mother and her suitor, Admiral Faucet, show up at Ashton Place, with an ostrich. (Seriously.) The ostrich gets looks, and Admiral Faucet, intrigued by the Incorrigible’s tracking skills, takes them into the woods to find said runaway ostrich. Of course, their governess Penelope — somewhat daunted by the idea of taking the children into the woods, where there are scary bears and other animals — comes along.

Once in the woods, Strange Things happen. Penelope sees where the Incorrigibles were living before they came to Ashton Place, and discovers their relationship with the wolf, Mama Woof. Additionally, she learns of Admiral Faucet’s Grand Plan, which involves taking the Incorrigibles on the road as a freak show. After he squanders the Ashton fortune, of course. To stop him, Penelope turns to her friend Simon to hold a seance for Lord Frederick’s mother.

The best thing about these, still, is the narrator. Long, hilarious asides explaining words and meanings. Nudges to the reader about the characters. Silly, silly plot twists. I’m still not sure how many kids will like/get this one, but I sure find them enjoyable. Bring on the next installment.

by Lloyd Alexander
ages: 9+
First sentence: “Taran wanted to make a sword; but Coll, charged with the practical side of his education, decided on horseshoes.”
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This is one of the titles I remember having fond memories of as a kid. I don’t really remember the act of reading it, though I know I must have: I remember talking about it with friends, especially after the Disney monstrosity of a movie came out. (We were purists, if you can’t tell…) I know I’ve reread the story before this, but I don’t have any record of it, so it’s good that I was asked to reread it again (and write up a lengthy review…)

Taran is just an Assistant Pig Keeper at Caer Dallben, charged with taking care of the oracle pig, Hen Wen. He longs for adventure, and then one day, quite unexpectedly, he gets it: the Horned King and his minions (in service of the Big Baddie, Arawn — yes, that does remind me of Lord of the Rings, thanks for asking) make Hen Wen uneasy and she escapes her pen. Taran, because he’s just impulsive that way, takes off after her, falling in with Prince Gwydion for a bit before they get separated and Taran is on his own.

But he’s not alone: he collects a rag-tag band of friends:the half-animal, always hungry Gurgi; the headstrong Eilowny; the ever-exaggerating bard Fflewddeur Fflam (who will always be “flewder flam” instead of “fleoothur flam”); and the grumpy dwarf Doli. Together they find their way back to Gwydion, fight the Horned King (though Taran rightly asserts in the end that he didn’t do anything worthy of being called a hero), and realize there’s no place like home.

On the one hand, the book is really simplistic: boy leaves, boy has adventures, boy comes home a Wiser and Better person. And yet, I found it to be incredibly compelling. Perhaps it was because I loved it as a kid, but I don’t think that’s entirely it. I think it’s because Alexander is a master storyteller, and he knows how to create characters that we can relate to and root for, ones that are flawed even in a black-and-white world.

And that is really the best kind of middle grade book. And yes, I am going to make the time to read the rest now.

by Jacqueline West
ages: 9+
First sentence: “Everyone who lived in the big stone house on Linden Street eventually went insane.”
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Others in the series: The Shadows

As a result of events in the first book, Olive is no longer able to get into the paintings — the doorway to Elsewhere — on her own. She needs the help of the cats — Horatio, Harvey and Leopold — to get in and out. And, increasingly, they are unwilling to help her. That, and her friend Morton is getting more and more cantankerous because Olive can’t find a solution to get him out of the painting for good.

Then a boy moves in two doors down, and starts asking questions he shouldn’t (or, rather, Olive doesn’t want to answer), but he puts an idea in her mind: if she can find the grimorie (book of spells), then maybe she can figure out not only how to get to Elsewhere by herself, but maybe she can figure out how to get Morton out.

Except, things don’t go the way Olive wants them to.

The best thing about this one is that it’s delightfully creepy. There’s a point when you, as the reader, know something bad HAS to happen, and yet West drags it out, bit by bit (but not in a painful way), stringing us along just enough for us to sit at the edge of our seats, wondering when the resolution will come.

And come it does.  (It’s quite satisfying, too.)

While it’s a continuation of the previous book, it’s also a stand-alone story of its own. You don’t really need to have read the first one to enjoy this one, and there really isn’t any threads left undone (well… not entirely true, but the undone thread isn’t entirely relevant to the story). And that truly makes this a winner of a series.

by Jacqueline West
ages: 9+
First sentence: “Ms. McMartin was definitely dead.”
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Eleven-year-old Olivia, the daughter of two absent-minded mathematicians, has lived her whole life in boring apartments. That is, until her parents by a creepy, old, drafty, mysterious stone house on Linden Street. It’s not only got character, it’s got paintings that Olivia swears are moving.

Not to mention the talking cat.

Soon, Olivia discovers a pair of old spectacles (great word, that), and finds that she can climb into the paintings. Once there, she discovers something more sinister: not only are these paintings in Elsewhere real, the people were once real people. They’ve been trapped there. And, inadvertently, Olivia has let free the person who trapped all these people — including her new friend, a 9-year-old boy named Morton. How is she going to set things to rights?

The jacket flap compared this one to Neil Gaiman and Roald Dahl, and I have to agree: there is the same dark undertones, same sense of foreboding that you get with Gaiman, and the same sense of the unusual you get with Dahl (not to mention the same underwhelming parental figures). But it also has a feel of it’s own: it won the Middle Grade Science Fiction/Fantasy Cybils for 2010 because they liked the pacing and humor and world building. I have to agree: I read this book quickly not just because it was a breeze to get through, but because I didn’t want to put it down.

And I can’t wait to see what other adventures Olivia and Morton will have.