Middle Grade

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

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For me, this book falls into the “important but very painful to read” category. It was depressing, disheartening, and yet an important look at race relations in the south in the 1930s.

The basic story is a year in the life of the Logans, as told from 9-year-old Cassie Logan’s point of view. She and her family live in Mississippi, north of Vicksburg, on a former plantation. Her family is different than the other tenant farmers in their area: they own 400 acres of their own land. It was a fluke: a Yankee had bought some after the Civil War and ended up selling some to Cassie’s grandfather. Yet, it’s the land — and owning it — that allows Cassie’s family a measure of freedom that the other families don’t have.

The interesting thing (to me) is that the other black families don’t hold it against the Logans do what they can to help out their neighbors and work hard at making ends meet. It’s the white people that claim the Logan’s are putting on airs, getting uppity and the like. In the end, it’s the land that both dooms them and saves them. (Which sounds ominous, I know, but really that’s the way it happens.)

Mildred Taylor doesn’t spare any one or anything. When Cassie disobeys, she gets whipped. She gets humiliated for just being black, and manages to get her “revenge”. It’s very much a world of get and try and give back. The children get splattered every morning on their way to school by the white bus going by (on purpose), and they take their revenge. Which sets off a chain of events. I think more than race relations, this book is about consequences. The consequences of choices, of decisions, of being black (or white) in Mississippi. There’s a strong sense of family, too. The Logans deeply care for their children, wanting what’s best for them. They are also concerned for their safety, navigating the difficult path of what’s right versus what’s best.

It was a very powerful book, one that I’m sure will stay with me for quite a while.

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!

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In a word: delightful.

Other words to describe this: gem, fascinating, funny, captivating, beautiful.

Amazing.

It’s amazing how much information Laura Amy Schlitz packed into 81 pages. There are 22 captivating characters, each one with their own story, separate, yet interconnected. It’s a well-researched (but never dull) peek back in to Medieval times, the harshness of it, as well as the simple little joys. I liked that Schlitz didn’t glamorize the lives of these children, but I liked that she kept it accessible to kids of today. I liked that much of it was poetry: beautiful, simple, powerful. (And this is from someone who isn’t necessarily a fan of poetry.)

I want to own this book. I have a feeling that M and C will enjoy it, too. I can even see them putting on one or two of the plays themselves. It’s a treasure, and well worth the Newbery it won this year.

Moxy Maxwell Does Not Love Stuart Little

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I’m really reading The Omnivore’s Dilemma (and enjoying it), but last night after all the girls were in bed, it really wasn’t what I wanted to curl up with.

So, it’s a good thing — on a recommendation from Becky — that I picked up this book, the first by Peggy Gifford, at the library the other day. It hit the spot: short, cute, and very funny. Just right for the evening of a stressful day. In fact, I think you could safely call this book adorable. (Though I’m not sure Moxy would like being called that all that much.)

Moxy Maxwell, 9-year-old, almost-fourth grader has had all summer to read Stuart Little. But there never seemed to be enough time. Until it’s come down to this: the last day before school starts, the day of the “Goodbye to Summer Splash” show where she’s 1/8th of a swimming daisy, and an ultimatum: read the book or don’t go.

Simple. And it works. Moxy is an amusing main character, coming up with all sorts of ways to get out of reading the book. But when she finally does, it’s — like many things we are “forced to do” — love. But that’s another story. This story is her adventures in getting out of reading the book. And it’s a winner. (I’m passing it on to C, who I’m sure, will just love it as much as I did.)

Faeries of Dreamdark: Blackbringer

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I have come to a conclusion: I have to stop reading. I’ve made up a best-of list, and I’ve been putting off publishing it, mostly because I’m a completest, and the year’s not technically over. [Update: but then I accidentally went and published my list today. Bleh. That’s what I get for blogging with a 20-month-old on my lap.] But, I’ve stumbled on to one of those blessed runs where every book I read is so good, my list keeps changing. Take this book, for example. It’s the first novel from the woman who made this (which I still covet):

But aside from that (which I think is pretty cool), Blackbringer is a fabulous fantasy book. The world which Laini Taylor has created is intricate and magical, and completely sucked me in. I could not put this book down.

Magpie is a faerie, but an unusual one. She’s the granddaughter of the West Wind. Her clan is a group of crows. She’s a devil hunter, capturing the ones that humans (mannies) accidentally let out of their bottles. But when she comes across one that leaves nothing in its wake — swallowing its victims whole — she knows she’s a bit out of her league. She heads back to the place of her birth, Dreamdark, to find and wake up the Magruwen — the head djinn, the creator of this world — in hopes of saving the world from the evil that is hunting the faeries.

Usually, when a world is so developed as this one is, the rest of the book suffers. But in this case, Taylor has developed a strong and remarkable heroine in Magpie. She’s feisty and determined, at time fragile, yet there’s no doubt that she won’t succeed in what she does. And Magpie makes the book work. That, and there’s myriads of secondary characters, who captured my imagination: Talon, the Prince of the faerie guardian band; Poppy Manygreen, who can speak to plants; Vesper, the impostor queen; Bellatrix, the heroine of old; and various imps and other faeries that are too numerous to name. It also helps that Taylor has a knack for writing adventure. There was more than one time when I was biting my nails, wondering how Magpie was going to get out of the mess she’d gotten herself into. And because of all this, the world of faeries and mannies and the history Taylor infuses into the book comes together almost seamlessly. It’s a perfect meld between world-creating and plot and characterization.

I can’t ask for anything better from a fantasy novel.

Gilda Joyce Psychic Investigator

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This book, by Jennifer Allison, is a lot of fun. It’s not deep, it doesn’t aspire to be anything other than a little ghost story with a friendship story thrown in. But it’s a lot of fun, for one reason: Gilda Joyce.

I loved the main character in this book. Gilda was funny, sassy, quirky, easy to like. That, and she reminded me (very much so) of C. In the first few pages, 13-year-old Gilda’s sitting in the last English class of the year, and her teacher asks her what she’s going to be doing for the summer. Going to San Fransisco, she replies.

“And what will you be doing there? A vacation with your family?”
“I’ll be writing a novel.” Why did she tell Mrs. Weinstock that?
Gilda’s pale, freckled complexion turned pink with embarrassment, and Mrs. Weinstock peered at her suspiciously. Gilda had been known to make up stories in the past, and she knew Mrs. Weinstock regarded most of her comments with a degree of skepticism. “Writing a novel is a pretty ambitious plan for a girl your age.”
Mrs. Weinstock obviously didn’t want to believe that an eighth grader could write an novel, even if it was Gilda, who had a unique talent for witting in a voice well beyond her years. In fact, because Gilda had used vocabulary words like specious and trenchant in some of her assignments, Mrs. Weinstock had unfairly hinted that she thought Gilda had plagiarized on several occasions.
“I’ve already written a few novels,” Gilda replied, “so it’s no big deal.” This statement was partly true; her bedroom closet was stuffed with bizarre stories that she hoped would someday make her famous.

She had me hooked.

The plot develops from there… Gilda actually does make it to San Francisco (her letter inviting herself is quite ingenious — and funny) to visit her mother’s second cousin, Mr. Splinter. It turns out that Mr. Splinter has a daughter named Juliet, and they live in a haunted house. The “psychic investigator” part comes in because Gilda takes it upon herself (with Juliet’s begrudging help) to figure out why (and whether) Mr. Splinter’s sister, Melanie, killed herself by jumping from the tower (and in the process, figure out what those late-night ghost noises are). It’s mostly, though, a series of adventures and intrigues and embarrassing situations that Gilda puts herself in to. And they’re mostly very amusing.

My only caveat to this story is the whole psychic thing. It’s not for those who have a strong aversion to it, though I think it’s all handled very tactfully (I normally don’t go in for seances, Ouija boards and the like, but it didn’t bother me). In fact, the seance that Gilda conducts is quite amusing (though she does come up with some answers…) I also think, though this one is considered middle grade fiction, that it’s for the older end of the age group. C was interested in it from reading the back blurb, but I think I’d rather she wait until she’s a bit older. M, on the other hand, is enjoying it thoroughly.

One last side note… I was puttering around the web looking for more information on Jennifer Allison (the book’s missing the author blurb — which I always read for some reason), and I discovered her web site. On it, she says that she’s from a “small town in Michigan” and listed among the review blurbs there’s one from The Saline Reporter, my home-town newspaper. In my experience (which is admittedly a bit out of date), the Reporter doesn’t normally do book reviews, especially ones of middle grade fiction. Which leads me to wonder: is Allison from Saline? Did we attend the same high school? (Did I actually *know* her? I don’t recognize her picture, but then people change from high school.) I have to admit that it would be really cool… and that would give me just another reason to recommend the book.

Diary of a Wimpy Kid

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This book, by Jeff Kinney — another one for my cousin — took an hour to read, and had me in stitches pretty much the whole time. It’s conceit is simple: it’s the “diary”, or journal, rather, of Greg Heffley during 7th grade. It’s done in cartoons (it’s subtitled “a novel in cartoons”) and prose… and is completely hilarious.

I wish I could scan the cartoons (but I won’t; copyright and all that) but here are some of my favorite bits:

I’m sure Dad would dismantle my game system if he could figure out how to do it. But luckily, the people who make these things make them parent-proof. (followed by a cartoon with Dad saying, “Dag nab these fancy gadgets!”)

Roderick’s band is REALLY awful, and I can’t stand being home when they’re having rehearsals. His band is called “Loaded Diaper,” only it’s spelled “Löded Diper” on Roderick’s van. You might think he spelled it that way to make it it look cooler, but I bet if you told Rodrick how “Loaded Diaper” is really spelled, it would be news to him.

This one’s my favorite, but I think it’s only because I’m a mom. A bit of set-up’s necessary, though. Rowley is Greg’s best friend, though Rowley’s a bit, um, dim. He also has over-protective parents, who are really into personal safety for Rowley. For Halloween, Rowley’s mom gets him a really cool knight costume.

Rowley showed up around 6:30 wearing his knight costume, but it didn’t look ANYTHING like it looked yesterday. Rowley’s mom made all these safety improvements to it, and you couldn’t even tell what he was supposed to be anymore. She cut out a big hole in the front of the helmet so he could see better, and covered him up in all this reflective tape. She made him wear his winter coat underneath everything, and she replaced his sword with a glow stick. (Trust me, the accompanying cartoon is hilarious.)

There are other fun moments in this book: the Wizard of Oz play (and subsequent play disaster), the Cheese Touch, wrestling in PE… My only initial complaint is that the book got a bit serious at the end and tried to have a plot. But, as I thought about it, I realized it made sense. Life is like that: mostly boring with occasional spurts of excitement and a little conflict along the way.

I even got M to read this book. It’s been sitting on my dresser for a while, but she had no interest. It wasn’t until I opened it up and started reading passages to her that she got interested. In fact, for a while last night, we were sitting on the couch together reading it. (Ah, one of those mother-daughter bonding moments. So what if it happens over a goofy book?) Hubby even had to see what we were laughing about.

This book is contagious. Kind of like laughter. Makes sense.

Chasing Vermeer

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I kind of liked this little mystery book by Blue Balliett. The only problem was that I often felt like I was missing something. Maybe it’s because the ending caught me completely by surprise, though all the clues were there (in that case, I really was missing something). Maybe it’s because I just don’t put things together well (the whole book was about putting things together well). Maybe it’s one of those adult/kid things (M really liked the book).

The basic premise: a Vermeer painting — A Lady Writing — has been stolen. Demands that Vermeer’s paintings be reassessed have been issued as a ransom. Two sixth grade students — Calder and Petra — start looking at information in new and unique ways, taking no coincidence for granted, and solve the mystery finding the painting and catching the thief in the end.

Now that I write that out, maybe it’s just too unbelievable to make for a good story for an adult. I mean, really, could two 11-almost-12 year olds put all this together? Probably not, but I guess it’s kind of fun to think so. At least for the kids reading it. I mean, who wouldn’t want to be the big hero and solve the big mystery and get their names in lights (there was a nice bit about just that in the book)? So, call it an escapist-fantasy-mystery book. Great for 10-12 year olds. Probably a bit much for their parents.

Boston Jane: An Adventure

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I really liked this book by Jennifer L. Holm. It’s a great girl book. An awkward 11-year-old goes to refinement school in Philadelphia because she has a crush on an apprentice of her father’s and then goes out to Oregon Territory (this is late 1800s) to marry him only to find that he’s abandoned her (because of the time it takes for the mail to get there…). So, she learns to survive. And the beauty of it all is that it’s really, truly believeable (at least to me). You laugh at her, you cheer for her, you want her to succeed. And she does (of course). It’s actually the first in a series and now I’m sorry I didn’t checkout all three at once. I can’t wait to see what she does next.