Chains

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by Laurie Halse Anderson
ages: 10+
First sentence: “The best time to talk to ghosts is just before the sun comes up.”

Isabel is a slave. But this is not a plantation in the Civil War South; it is 1776, and New York is bristling with the news of an impending British invasion. Isabel and her younger sister Ruth’s former master died, and instead of being set free, like they thought they were, they are sold to a couple of Tories: Mr. and Madame Lockton, and taken to New York, where they are caught in the middle of the revolution. It’s just a matter of time, and circumstances, before Isabel decides which side she will be on. And what price that will cost her.

First: this book is beautiful. I’m not usually a tactile reader, but in this instance, I kept looking at the more-than–perfect cover, stroking the pages, and loving the font. Especially the blurb on the back cover. I could tell much care was taken with the design of the book. And I, for one, appreciated it.

Moving on…

In the interview at the back of the book, Anderson says that the whole slave issue cannot be broken down into “good guys” and “bad guys”. Which is an understatement. There are sympathetic characters on both sides of the revolution — while the politics of the revolution play a role in this book, it is not an indicator of character. (Nor should it ever be.) Chains is thoroughly complex and unflinching, presenting the issues at hand — freedom, slavery, revolution — with honesty. Anderson doesn’t write down to the reader; the book is quite brutal at times. That’s not to say the book is harsh. Rather, interspersed with all the brutality are moments of absolute poignancy. The book just about ripped my heart in two at parts. Isabel as a character is not just compelling, she’s strong and captivating, and honest. I felt for her, I adored her, I cheered for her.

In short, it’s historical fiction at its finest. But then, it’s Laurie Halse Anderson.

(And yes, I do need to read her other books. I know that. Which one to start with, though?)

As John Green Would Say: This is Made of Awesome

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I was happy to find out via Fuse #8, my go-to place for all kidlit news, that there’s now a central web place for the kidlit blogging community: Kitlitospehre Central. The general aim is “to provide a passage to the wonderful variety of resources available from the society of bloggers in children’s and young adult literature.” I think this is incredible, and I’m not just saying that because I’m on the list. (I did a happy dance, though… 🙂 Thanks, Pam (and the rest of the board; you’re awesome), for setting this up: it’s an amazing resource, one I hope to make use of regularly.

(Though I think what we need now is a little logo button we can all stick on our blogs…)

Library Loot #4

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This week’s haul: (Okay, so I decided that I was being anal about the surprise factor…)

The roundup is over at A Striped Armchair.

For A/K:
Pig William, Arlene Dubanevich
Liberty!, Allan Drummond
Fin M’Coul: The Giant of Knockmany Hill, Tomie de Paola
The Seven Voyages of Sinbad the Sailor, James Riordan and Shelley Fowles
Snoring Beauty, Bruce Hale/Illustrated by Howard Fine**
The Sea Serpent and Me, Dashka Slater/Illustrated by Catia Chien**

For M:
Shield of Stars, Hilari Bell
Sword of Waters, Hilari Bell
Dear Julia, Amy Bronwen Zemser*
Ranger’s Apprentice: The Sorcerer of the North, John Flanagan*
Cybele’s Secret, Juliet Marillier*

For C:
Utterly Me, Clarice Bean, Lauren Child
The Last Dragon, Silvana De Mari
Gregor the Overlander, Suzanne Collins (M really liked this series; I thought I’d see if C wanted to give them a try.)

For me:
Indigo’s Star, Hilary McKay*
The Adventures of Boone Barnaby, Joe Cottonwood
The Bermudez Triangle, Maureen Johnson

*Ones that M finished
**Picture books we really liked.

The Rule of Won

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by Stefan Petrucha
ages: 12+
First sentence: “Garish.”
Review copy sent to me by Bloomsbury/Walker Books. (Yes, I am branching out and actually reviewing ARCs on my blog. They have to go somewhere…)

Caleb Dunne is a slacker. Self-proclaimed, all he aspires to do is not work very hard. He got suspended for something he didn’t do (wrong place, wrong time), and now, at the start of a new school year, he’s feeling the results of that: no one’s talking to him, except for his girlfriend Vicky. And she wants him to come to this after-school club, the Crave, and read this book The Rule of Won. The idea is that anything can happen to you or for you if you only think about it hard enough and want it bad enough.

Everything’s fine and good for a while — they do a couple of immanifests (the visualizing and chanting that gets you what you want) that work out, and Caleb is flying high. Until… well, until a teacher gets into a car accident, a close friend attempts suicide and another acquaintance is beaten up and put in the hospital. The book is less about Caleb’s self-discovery and relationships, though that’s a big part of it, and more about the dangers of group-think, and the line between “club” and “cult”. On those levels, it works quite well. Caleb is an engaging character, humourous, slightly dense, earnest, and likeable. His own relationship with the Crave is an interesting one; it starts out being just for Vicky and then morphs into something more challenging, and, eventually, more dangerous. Pertucha did a fabulous job writing group think — the chapters that are the Crave’s message board get more and more creepy as the book goes along, as the members get more and more immersed in the mob-mentality — as well as making Caleb and some of the secondary characters extremely compelling.

But, I think the book falters because there’s this element of mysticism surrounding Ethan’s (that’s the Crave leader) younger sister. Can she do magic? Or all those coincidences? Really? In the end, it’s murky. I think we’re supposed to believe, on some level that Ethan’s sister is making things happen. On the one hand, that’s really quite cool (and the way she does it is very unique). On the other hand, I think it undermines the message (if there’s even supposed to be one) that there’s a fine line between achieving things, and achieving things at all costs.

Even with that teeny bit of misdirection, the bottom line is clear: Fanaticism is a bad thing. Even if you’re fanatic about something as simple (?) as a book.

The Geography of Bliss

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by Eric Weiner
ages: adult
First sentence: “My bags were packed and my provisions loaded.”

The premise: self-proclaimed grumpy journalist decides to visit happy nations (as determined by the World Database of Happiness that’s kept in Rotterdam, the Netherlands. He visits a handful of countries for several weeks, interviewing people and sampling the culture trying to figure out what, exactly, makes these people in these particular countries especially happy. And how does it all (can it?) relate to him and his own personal search for happiness?

It sounds trite, and on one level it is. How can a journalist, one who insists upon remaining professional aloofness at that, actually get to the bottom of what makes people happy? And besides, there are millions of people in any given country (more or less), and not all of them are going to be happy all the time, right? Well, yeah. But, I don’t think Weiner is going for depth. Sure, he draws conclusions from the places he visits, and he tries to put it all into some sort of happiness formula, but I think he was just out to meet people and experience things. Which is all good with me.

As for myself, I enjoyed the journey. Weiner is a funny writer — maybe not as good as Bill Bryson or Tony Horwitz at their best (admission: I picked up this book because there’s a blurb on the back by Tony Horwitz, and I thought, well Tony Horwitz liked it and I like Tony Horwitz’s stuff, so maybe I’ll like this…) — but enjoyable. My favorite quote, from his visit to Switzerland:

Our fondue comes in a large bowl, not orange, and it’s good. After a few helpings, the euphoria is gone, but I’m feeling, I think, very Swiss. Satisfied. Neutral. Maybe this explains Swiss neutrality. Maybe it’s not based on a deep-seated morality but a more practical reason. Fondue and war don’t mix.

And I have to admit that I enjoyed the travel aspect of the book. I’ve never been to Bhutan or Qatar or Switzerland or Moldova (not that I want to go there now), and I enjoyed seeing the world, even in a limited sort of way. I found his stops and the people he met interesting, and the conclusions he came to about happiness fascinating. Maybe not life-changing. But definately worth mulling over.

Which pretty much sums up the book: not life-changing, but definately worth paging through.

The Underneath

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by Kathi Appelt
ages: 11+
First sentence: “There is nothing lonelier than a cat who has been loved, at least for a while, and then abandoned on the side of the road.”

I wrote this back in December, in the middle of the Cybils shortlist discussion, but didn’t post it. I figured it was safe, now that it’s won a Newbery Honor. I admit that I’m not feeling the love that others have for this book, though I also think that Sarah might be on to something… perhaps it’s one (like The Tale of Despereaux) that really should be read aloud, and maybe if I got a copy of the audio book (or read it aloud to C), I would feel differently.

On with the review…

There are some books that intellectually I get: I can understand why it’s a good book, I can see the craft that went into it, and can understand why it’s getting the buzz it’s getting. But on a visceral, emotional, story-enjoying level, I find myself wondering if the book is all about the hype, the craft, the buzz. Because I couldn’t stand it.

The Underneath is one of those books. Done in a series of short prose-poems, hauntingly done, it tells the story of the friendship between one hound dog, a mother cat and her two kittens. And their trials brought about at the hands of a very disturbed, evil individual named Gar Face. There’s also a sub-plot about Grandmother Moccasin, a water moccasin-changeling, who is engulfed in hatred because her daughter, 1,000 years ago, chose love with a man over her mother. It’s a journey and discovery for both of the stories, enveloped in sorrow and adventure.

Unfortunately, even though I could recognize it’s beauty and sense where Appelt was going, and know that this one will at least get a Newbery Honor [I was right… wow!], I didn’t like it. At all. In fact, I found myself rolling my eyes and yawning. I was bored. Stiff. The pacing was horrible, and even though the language was beautiful, it wasn’t enough to keep me from cringing every time Grandmother Moccasin showed up. “Go back a thousand years…” Um. Let’s not and just say we did. The plot kept jumping between Gar Face’s past, the present with the dog and kittens and the long past with Grandmother Moccasin, which is all fine and good, but after about 100 or so pages of it, I’d had enough. Then there was the animal cruelty. This is not a book for weak stomachs. Or sensitive readers. Don’t give it to the girl who loves her kitty. Or, probably, the boy who’s a bit mean to the dog.

But, I’ve heard it’s a good read-aloud. So, maybe someday, I’ll get an audio version of this book and then decide I really like it. It’s happened before. It could happen again.

We’ll see.

Teaser Tuesday, January 27

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  • Grab your current read.
  • Let the book fall open to a random page.
  • Share with us two (2) “teaser” sentences from that page, somewhere between lines 7 and 12.
  • You also need to share the title of the book that you’re getting your “teaser” from … that way people can have some great book recommendations if they like the teaser you’ve given!
  • Please avoid spoilers!

    • The roundup is at Should be Reading.

    My teaser is from The Geography of Bliss: One Grump’s Search for the Happiest Places in the World, by Eric Weiner. This comes from the chapter on Iceland:

    “I smile, though Larus can’t possibly know why, can’t possibly know how please I am to hear the word ‘naive’ used as anythign other than a pejorative. Nearly twenty years ago, I had a run-in with the ‘n’ word.” p. 164.

    What are you reading this week?

    I’ve got to read this now

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    The Graveyard Book won this year’s Newbery. Congrats to Neil Gaiman!

    Three other shout-outs: Savvy won a Newbery honor (yay!), Frankie-Landau Banks won a Printz Honor, and Mo Willems got the Geisel Award (again) for Are You Ready to Play Outside? All made me quite happy…

    For a full list of all the awards, visit the ALA webpage, here. (The list should be up by 10 a.m. MST today.)

    Geeky Classics

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    This week’s Weekly Geek asks four questions, two of which I’m supposed to answer. Starting at the beginning…

    1) How do you feel about classic literature? Are you intimidated by it? Love it? Not sure because you never actually tried it? Don’t get why anyone reads anything else? Which classics, if any, have you truly loved? Which would you recommend for someone who has very little experience reading older books? Go all out, sell us on it!

    Ah, classics. I really didn’t read many growing up, except for the ones assigned in English class, and then I don’t think I really liked any of them, except Mark Twain. I’ve always liked Mark Twain (though, admittedly, I haven’t read any of his books in years…). Since then, though, I’ve discovered, while not a real love for classics a very big like for them. (Warning, approaching food metaphor…) I think they’re like the whole grains of literature. If you don’t read at least a handful a year, then you’re suffering from an unbalanced metaphor. However, I also think that if you subsist solely on classics (or whole grains, for that matter), you are missing out on some of the delicious things in life (if perhaps not that filling or even good for you). It’s all about balance, my friends.

    Some of my favorites (all older than 100 years, just so we’re on the same page):

    All of Jane Austen, of course, especially Persuasion and Pride and Prejudice: Her observations of relationships, personalities, and class are all still valid (and funny) today.

    Jane Eyre: Swoon. Really.

    Isak Dineson — I especially like her short stories (shock, I know) in Anecdotes of Destiny and Ehrengard: I read this years and years ago (time for a reread?), and remembered being moved by Dineson’s use of language and food, especially in Babette’s Feast.

    Room with a View (or E.M. Forester in general): We just watched the Merchant-Ivory movie version last week, and I was reminded how much I liked this book. Fun, light, silly, sweet… perfect Britishness.

    My Antonia: Another one that I remember being really affected by. I read all of Willa Cather’s stuff about 10 years ago, and I was really quite moved by this one. Wichita did a Big Read last fall, and this was the book. I never got around to rereading it, but now that I’m thinking about it, perhaps I’ll pull it out again.

    Dracula: Oh. My. Gosh. Fabulous.

    Huckleberry Finn: It’s the ultimate Mark Twain. Full of humor, social commentary, and a ripping good story. (Or at least as much as I remember. I can’t tell you the last time I read this one…)

    Daisy Miller: I’m not a huge fan of Henry James, but I found myself really liking this one. The only thing I could find on it on my blog was this, “A short novella – and an intriguing story about a young American woman in Europe and her lack of “propriety” that eventually leads to her downfall, of sorts. An interesting commentary on propriety and its place or lack of place in society.”

    Anne of Green Gables: I adore this book. (But only this one. I’m not much on the sequels.) Anne is impetuous, and darling, and crative, and just so much fun to read about.

    3) Let’s say you’re vacationing with your dear cousin Myrtle, and she forgot to bring a book. The two of you venture into the hip independent bookstore around the corner, where she primly announces that she only reads classic literature. If you don’t find her a book, she’ll never let you get any reading done! What contemporary book/s with classic appeal would you pull off the shelf for her?

    I’m terrible at this kind of thing. I’m better at one-on-one recommendations. But a couple of books that I thought of, off the top of my head…

    I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith: I searched, and I don’t have a full review for this one. That’s a crime. I remember being totally enthralled by it.

    My Name is Asher Lev (or any Chaiam Potok book, really): In my opinion, this is Potok’s best. A moving story about an artist and his relationship to his family’s Hasidic Jewish religion. Touching.

    Austenland: For Austen fans. Light and silly, and really quite fun.

    How Green was My Valley

    My Name is Psmith (not 100 years old, or it’d be in the classics…)

    The Orange Girl, Jostein Gaardner: It’s a wonderful little book. (Hard to find, though.) A letter from a (dead) father to his son (who’s 11 when he reads it), it’s the story of how he and his wife met. Just about perfect.

    The Chronicles of Narnia, C.S. Lewis: I know I don’t have reviews for this one, but as far as allegory goes, this one is a masterpiece.

    I don’t know if I helped anyone here… but I did discover a list of books that I’d like to go back and reread. So, for that, this was a completely worthwhile endeavor!

    WSR Challenge Roundup #3

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    This week’s quote was provided by bigsis, from the book Vampire in Moscow by Richard Henrick. She described it this way: “An ancient sarcophagus has been unearthed and sent to Moscow to be studied. There are many interested groups and already, and one-third into the book the characters’ lives are entwined…”

    Brother Nicholas, you have been chosen to travel to the capital city. Because the time of release is near, you will not go unarmed. Two thousand years ago, our order’s beloved founder received a weapon cut from the very cross on which the Ascended Master was crucified. The divine spear has been kept in our midst for a millenium, when the Beast last walked among . Protect it well, for it is the only device on Earth that can do injury to the unholy creature, whose flesh is impervious to mortal weaponry.

    I’m still looking for quotes from the books you’re reading for the challenge; leave them in the comments or email them to mmfbooks AT gmail.com. Oh, and you can find all the reviews here.

    On with the roundup:

    Erin‘s first book was Garlic and Sapphires, a yummy (and fun) look at Ruth Reichl’s experiences as a food critic in New York. Erin writes, “I don’t think there is a single item of food Ruth wrote about that I would be interested in eating. Her descriptions of tastes and textures were fabulous.” Check out her review for a delightful bit of irony…

    Amira checked in with another four (I’m at a loss for words…): Swallows of Kabul (she felt mostly the same way that Jeska did), Hundred Secret Senses (liked it, but not as much as Joy Luck Club), Driving Over Lemons (good; better than another book I’ve never heard of), and Persepolis 2. She wrote, “One of my favorite scenes in the book is when Satrapi points out that it is difficult to be an art student while wearing impractical clothing and is allowed to redesign the acceptable clothing for art students. We hear so much of what is wrong with Iran that it’s good to hear that sometimes, there is at least a little reason (although you can certainly argue that even the redesigned outfits are pretty unreasonable).”

    Lily read Chocolat — mmmmm, sounds delightful — and wrote “Chocolat is a small book, but just like a little chocolate truffle, it held a lot of delicious flavors. The writing is truly poetic, I did feel like I was eating my favorite dessert.” I really do need to read this book…

    J.C. read one by one of my new favorite authors, Girl at Sea by Maureen Johnson. She complains about the cover, saying it’s nothing like the character Johnson created, writing, “This cover is so generic that it short-changes what’s inside. I’m glad I didn’t judge this book (or 13 Little Blue Envelopes) by its cover. If I had, I likely would have assumed the novel would have been another formulaic teen romance drama. Which it definitely is NOT. Girl at Sea has a great pace and likable characters. There’s a bit of everything here: mystery, romance, drama. It was a great book to read while stuck in winter misery.”

    Tricia read the classic A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, noting that while the plot wasn’t that captivating, “it’s told so beautifully that there were passages I actually pored over. It’s a story of love, grief and survival that I certainly recommend.” Another one I need to read.

    Our stop in China this week is provided by Corinne with Serve the People: A Stir-Fried Journey through China, Chinese-American journalist Jen Lin-Liu’s look at modern-day China through food. Corinne writes, “Her cooking experiences and the people she meets are fascinating and all the while she is teaching us Chinese history, culture and legend, usually through the personal experiences of the chefs and waitresses with whom she crosses paths. Explanations about the variations in Chinese cuisine and food preparation based on geography were particularly compelling, probably because the cuisine of the culture I’ve grown up in feels infantile compared to the dishes I read about.”

    And lastly, but not leastly, Nicole checks in with Animal, Vegetable, Miracle, another book that I’ve been meaning to read for a while. (Hmm… do you sense a theme here?) She writes, “Reading this book inspired me to take a personal field trip to my grocery store to see what I could buy from Arizona. I was shocked to discover that if I was going to go on the Kingsolver diet, Corey and I would have to survive on chocolate milk, bread, and honey.” An interesting diet, to say the least.

    Here’s to another good week!