Old Year, New Year

At some point this year, I made a semi-conscious resolution to read more books than last year. Quantity of books is kind of a ridiculous thing to consider. There were, at the time, no real limits on the kind of book or the length or the quality (although I like to believe that I always seek out quality literature). As the year progressed, a few guidelines crept in:

• I tried to hit a few of those titles that always show up on best-ever lists, including At Swim-Two-Birds, Things Fall Apart, Neuromancer, and Bless Me, Ultima.
• I was still (am still) rereading Shakespeare. I've been following the chronological order laid out in my B&N Complete Works and I've got about five plays to go. This particular project was abandoned temporarily due to the next two quests.
• The 40 Book Challenge, which all of my sixth graders are doing. I decided to fill one in, then I decided to get it done by Christmas break, which necessitated finding more poetry and nonfiction to read than I would read on my own (this is good).
• Last but not least, a push to read potential Newbery books. Since there are plenty of titles that have been placed on speculative lists, this has been a pretty considerable undertaking. And since a huge number of those titles arrived in our library on December 22, I've been reading furiously since break began. 
• (Also, I suppose, the Maud Hart Lovelace thing.)

Anyway, 133 books total. I'd like to do a breakdown, but that's going to take some work. Maybe tomorrow?

To close out the year, I'll look to Anne-with-an-E (specifically, Anne's House of Dreams):

They spent the old year's last hour quietly around the fire. A few minutes before twelve Captain Jim rose and opened the door.

"We must let the New Year in," he said.

 ...

"Welcome, New Year," said Captain Jim, bowing low as the last stroke died away. "I wish you all the best year of your lives, mates. I reckon that whatever the New Year brings us will be the best the Great Captain has for us - and somehow or other we'll all make port in a good harbour." 

 

 

 

The Final Four

I finished with the Maud Hart Lovelace books about a week ago. Let's jump into talking about the last four books and be done with this little project.

I really was pretty impressed by Marissa Meyer's Cinder. Sadly, I'm having a hard time remembering exactly why...that's probably not a great sign.

Okay. I can do this. First, the story frequently zigged where I thought it would zag. I mean, the broad strokes were easy to call - of course Prince Kai would fall for Cinder, of course Cinder is the missing Lunar princess, etc. But for a spin on Cinderella, the story doesn't ever follow the map most of us would be following (that of the Disney movie, of course). The world-building is good, Cinder is a pretty enjoyable character, and so on. All that said, a lot of what I read fell right out of my head when I put the book down and moved on. So.

Trent Reedy's Words in the Dust was another book where I failed at predicting what was coming. Which, in hindsight, was rather unfortunate; the end caught me entirely off-guard. But let's start at the beginning. I appreciated the fact that Zulaikha's education was given the same weight as fixing her cleft lip. I liked the (presumably authentic?) glimpses of Afghani culture. I liked the relationship between the sisters. But the end.

Look, I think it's important to talk about the way women around the world are treated by men and I totally believe that what happened to Zeynab has happened to young girls. But the way it went down just doesn't sit right with me as I reflect on it. I mean, the parallels made between Zulaikha's repaired lip and Zeynab's severe burns that split her lip open...it bugs me. I'm not sure exactly why. Also, the descriptions of her injuries were brutal. And again, this is a necessary conversation. It just seemed like Reedy maybe tried to do a little too much. Or something. I don't know. There's something I can't quite put my finger on that left a bad taste in my mouth.

Speaking of which, we have finally found my least favorite book in the bunch. So congratulations, Ghost Dog Secrets. I almost abandoned this book very early on, about the time a sixth-grade student says something about dogs not receiving "proper veterinary care" (or something equally stilted that would never come out of the mouth of a sixth grader). It got slightly better. But not a lot.

Let's talk about, for instance, the way Rusty's class learned about how to identify a meth lab (what?!) shortly before he did just that (by the ammonia smell, because of course he did). Or the pedantic descriptions of how Rusty goes to the library to research ghosts after seeing the titular ghost dog (that said, it did lead to a reference to the movie Ghost Dog: Way of the Samurai, so that's kind of entertaining). Or Rusty's game with his friend where they come up with alliterative groups of words that they describe as "threesomes" (again, what?! and they are dumb). Anyway, my students dig Peg Kehret's books and heaven knows, everyone loves dogs (and abusing dogs is clearly the worst thing you can do), so I'm sure there are kids that will like this one. But I am solidly not in that camp.

Which brings us to the final book: Margi Preus's Heart of a Samurai. Very good. It reminded me, inevitably, of Moby Dick, which I mean as a compliment. I love that it's based on a true story - what a life! The descriptions of Manjiro's time at sea were my favorite and I appreciated the lack of closure or truly happy endings; he was never really at home anywhere, which seemed incredibly honest.

Not much to say about this one, I'm sad to say. It's a lot easier to talk about the bad stuff and I have little to complain about with Heart of a Samurai. Outside of maybe wishing Preus had found a way to work in something about how the whaling industry decimated (and continues to harm) worldwide whale populations, though I acknowledge that would probably be rather awkward.

So here we are. Since this is a competition (which I can't actually participate in), it seems proper to close with a ranking (based on how I feel right now; it seems important to note that 2-6 and 7-11 could probably be ties and could certainly jump around depending on the day - the only two I'm sure of are my top and bottom). So, from worst to best...

12. Ghost Dog Secrets by Peg Kehret
11. Wild Life by Cynthia DeFelice
10. Words in the Dust by Trent Reedy
9. Chomp by Carl Hiaasen
8. My Life as a Book by Janet Tashjian
7. Breathing Room by Marsha Hayles
6. Cinder by Marissa Meyer
5. Heart of a Samurai by Margi Preus
4. Liar and Spy by Rebecca Stead
3. The False Prince by Jennifer A. Nielsen
2. Belly Up by Stuart Gibbs
1. Icefall by Matthew J. Kirby

Maud Hart Lovelace, part 2, or, I remembered!

First, Stuart Gibbs' Belly Up. At the moment, I think this is my favorite of the MHL books. It's very funny - I laughed out loud when Theo, the narrator, armed zoo chimps with water balloons to throw at zoo visitors (who, to be fair, started it), then explained when chastised that, sans water balloons, they would have thrown feces. Also hilarious - the climactic chase scene, which culminates in a hippo coffin falling from a crane, with the dead hippo inside exploding all over a crowd of mourners. Good stuff. The mystery is also appropriately mysterious, although I would have appreciated some clues dropped along the way. My only real problem is the way this book (and Chomp, which I'll be getting to) depict overweight people as inherently stupid and slow. Obesity does not go hand in hand with stupidity and it's irresponsible to teach kids that it does.

Next up, Marsha Hayles' Breathing Room, a historical fiction set in a Minnesota TB sanitarium during World War II. I am always partial to books set in Minnesota, so this book had that going for it. I also appreciate when authors don't shy away from the gravity of a situation and, in killing off quite a few primary supporting characters, Hayles certainly checks this box. That said, I didn't find Breathing Room to be terribly memorable (it's middle grade historical fiction - it's fine) and I found the rather awkward insertion of a Jewish character to be rather heavy-handed. Of course, what do I know? I overheard a couple of 7th graders talking about this book and both proclaimed it to be "awesome."

Matthew Kirby's Icefall was a story I really liked. I loved the discussion about the power of stories that was threaded throughout the book. Solveig talks about using words and stories as weapons and medicine, to give hope and take it away... in that and in the way it showed, obliquely, how myths are born from truth, it reminded me a little of Watership Down. I also really liked the way the traditional Norse myths were incorporated. I've always liked Norse mythology, but it is so frequently overshadowed by Greek and Roman, so it was nice to see it take a starring role. I loved the relationship Kirby built between Solveig and Hake, Asa's betrayal caught me off-guard, and Alric's sacrifice gave me chills. My only real complaint is one I also had for Belly Up - I want these mysteries to drop a few subtle clues. I don't need to be able to solve it ahead of time, but I love looking back at mysteries and seeing the breadcrumbs.

Finally, Carl Hiaasen's Chomp. Unexpectedly exciting, even if I rolled my eyes a bit at the coincidence of Wahoo's group, Derek Badger, and Mickey Cray and that drunken idiot all winding up on the same island. But let's back up. Given what we would have been learning about Bear Grylls about the time Chomp came out, I'd say this is a pretty good takedown of reality television survivalists. Derek Badger is cartoonish, but probably not far off from a lot of reality stars. Unrelated, I appreciated Tuna's arc. As I said above, the thing I had a problem with was the depiction of obesity. Derek's overeating is emblematic of his many character flaws; likewise for Sickler. Hiaasen, like Gibbs, uses being overweight as shorthand for being inept, selfish, and stupid. 

Next time, the final four: Cinder, Ghost Dog Secrets, Words in the Dust, and Heart of a Samurai.

Maud Hart Lovelace, Part 1

New job, new challenges.

I've inherited sets of this year's Maud Hart Lovelace Book Award titles (the Division II titles, to be clear). They're all a few years old, but since most of my YA reading has skewed older, most of these books are new to me. But I like to be thorough and I like to be knowledgable in my recommendations, so I've taken it upon myself to burn through the eleven books I haven't already read (that one I have read being Rebecca Stead's Liar & Spy, which I liked, though not as much as When You Reach Me).

Enough of the exposition. Let's talk about some books (spoilers abound).

Right now, Jennifer A. Nielsen's The False Prince has my vote. It's exciting and well-written and has a fairly well-concealed twist that, in hindsight, is really well set up. This was the read-aloud book in a classroom I did some clinical stuff in, so I had heard a few of the later chapters and knew that Sage was Jaron, though knowing that didn't lessen my enjoyment of the story. In fact, I was impressed with the number of hints that Nielsen sprinkles throughout.

That said, a couple of complaints. 1) The story takes place over two weeks. It's just entirely unrealistic that illiterate and unskilled orphans could be given the education needed to pass themselves off as a prince in two weeks. Is this a little nit-picky? Perhaps. But something about it just screamed "middle grade reader" at me, and not in a good way. 2) There's a chapter near the end where the narrative perspective shifts from Sage/Jaron's standard first-person to what seems to be a third-person omniscient. It was weird and unnecessary and, again, maybe not something a middle schooler would complain about, but it took me out of the story.

Book #2 is Janet Tashjian's My Life as a Book, with illustrations from her teen-age son Jake. The story is pretty light, but I have to admit, more affecting than I would have expected. The room got a bit dusty when Derek's mom decided to allow Mrs. James to keep her illusory version of how her daughter died. I don't have strong feelings one way or the other about the illustrations - they're fine and they give kids something to look at, but they're hit or miss when it comes to actually defining the words they intend to define.

No real complaints about MLAAB. One of the blurbs describes it as a kinder, gentler Wimpy Kid, which seems about right, although the illustrations serve a slightly different purpose.

My final book in this entry is Cynthia DeFelice's Wild Life.

It's fine, I guess. I'm certainly not the target audience, although a lot of Erik's story is pretty familiar. I grew up on the prairie; while I'm not a farm kid, I'm only a generation removed and I spent a lot of time as a kid at my grandparents' farm. My dad hunts a little (deer), as do some of my uncles and cousins. Given the number of kids around here who can identify with at least some of what Erik does, I think this book might find an audience. That said, it's fairly predictable and almost entirely lacking in danger or suspense - kind of a problem in a survival story. Erik never seems to be in great danger and it's obvious upon meeting Big Darrell that Erik's presence, or lack thereof, will soften him up by the end of the book. About the only surprise is that Erik doesn't get to keep Quill, but even this blow is softened considerably by his complacent (I suppose some might call it stoic) acceptance.

Next time: Breathing Room, Belly Up, and Icefall. (And maybe one other - we'll see.)

Broken Record

I know. I go away for ages and then I come back and talk about being a terrible blogger and how I will be better, I promise, this time will be different...and it isn't. So no promises. And no self-flagellation over my blogging habits (or lack thereof). Let's just talk about some books.

There have actually been a lot of books in the last year that have made me want to share them here. Not sure what exactly it is about the following trio - except for the fact that they are a trio, one that was entirely unplanned - that actually got me to do it, but here we go.

I am, once again, in the process of moving. At the beginning of the summer, with the knowledge of this impending move on my mind, I started buying and borrowing books and setting them aside, a TBR pile that wouldn't get packed up with the rest of my library. By the time my summer trip to Seattle (a couple weeks ago) rolled around, I was down to about 5 books. I can never travel with only one book, so I packed three, not realizing until I cracked them open, that every single one was set in the Pacific Northwest. Ah, serendipity, you did it again.

I started Winger on the plane (after wrapping up Neuromancer in the airport). I really had very little idea of what to expect - I just knew that it had been pretty well-received critically but was probably too "mature" for our junior high library. And wow. It was funny and real and occasionally kind of magical, with vivid characters and an absolute punch to the gut that managed to come out of nowhere and yet make perfect sense. It had me in tears on the plane, which I was trying very hard to be discreet about.

Seattle connection: the title character goes to boarding school in Oregon and spends a memorable weekend on Bainbridge Island.

The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender is, indeed, strange and beautiful. It is magical realism, almost immediately bringing to mind Gabriel Garcia Marquez. Characters turn into birds, fade away, intuit things through smell, and have wings. How many ways can I try to explain how much I loved this book? It is gorgeous and atmospheric and I just want to read it again, because I tried to read slowly and I couldn't. It sucked me in and held me rapt. Books like this make me a little sad about heading to my new middle school library post - it's not right for middle schoolers, but I would recommend the heck out of it if I had high school kids as a captive audience.

Seattle connection: Ava's grandmother, Emilienne (the names, by the way, are fabulous), moves with her husband (who she won't love, because the three times she was in love before she met him all ended badly) to Seattle from Manhattan, where he opens a bakery (which goes on to produce some of the more mouth-watering treats in literature).

Where'd You Go, Bernadette is not YA (although it's narrated by Bernadette's eighth-grade daughter, Bee, and would probably be enjoyed by high school kids). It is wonderful. I know. I sound like a broken record. And I know that this one has been around for a couple of years and plenty of people have said, more eloquently than I, I'm sure, how awesome it is. So let me just say that, among the many other feelings it made me feel, this book also rekindled my desire to visit Antarctica (sparked by Madeleine L'Engle, the first time I read Troubling a Star).

Seattle connection: Bernadette and family live in Seattle and her many issues with Seattle and Seattle-ites and Seattle culture make for some hilarious, ranty reading.