Librarians from the Ocean County Library system are meeting on Sunday, January 9 at 5:30 p.m. to select our 2011 Mock Newbery winner/honor books from the following list:
Hansel had crawled out of the oven while the baker woman was crawling in. He looked at her – pink and mean and sweating, sitting in the enormous oven.
“Hey!” she shouted at him. “What are you doing?”
Something dim flickered in his food-addled brain. “I’m saving myself and my sister,” he said, “from another terrible parent.” And then he closed and locked the door (p 47).
A Tale Dark and Grimm tweeks and spins elements from original Grimm Brothers’ Fairy Tales, some well-known and some obscure,to tell the true and bloody (and consequently ‘awesome’) story of siblings Hansel and Gretel.
In the introductory tale/chapter, the pair are beheaded by their father! Not to fear though, their heads are soon reattached, though the children are not happen to learn what happened. They deem their parents unfit and run away. So begins their search for good parents.
Over the course of the next several tales/chapters, the children meet various adults, evil and otherwise, until their course points home to the land of Grimm.
The actual tales are fabulous. I’m a fairy tale junky, never satiated. And I love the slew of reimagined fairy tales that have been published in the last decade, though some have been awful (I’m looking at you Beastly). This is, hands down, one of the best. In the vein of Reckless, this story is brutal. The kids are not perfect but they aren’t evil (though the tale “Brother and Sister” has me suspicious about Hansel’s nature).
What I didn’t particularly enjoy was the narrator. This narrator introduces the story [I was immediately reminded of the introduction to the picture book Twelve Terrible Things by Marty Kelley], warning – almost daring – the reader but promising an exploration through the darkest zones to discover the brightest beauty and most luminous wisdom. Of course, it will involve a lot of blood. The narrator will often interrupt the story to forewarn, build suspense and provide interpretation:
Are there any small children in the room? If so, it would be best if we just let them think this is really the end of the story and hurried them off to bed. Because this is where things start to get, well… awesome.
But in a horribly, bloody kind of way (p 16).
These interruptions are not always detracting. I like that it clearly tells the reader what to expect, builds suspense and oftens provides humor:
“I’m going to eat you up!” And she said it like she meant it.
Has a parent ever said something like that to you? Most parents say that kind of thing all the time, you know. It’s totally normal. Just be careful not to let them actually taste you (p 43-44).
However, sometimes, the narrators commentary was intrusive. As the story progressed I became more involved and appreciated the distraction less.
At the conclusion the narrator wraps up with a rather post-modern tiarade about the book’s themes, motifs and meaning. This caused me to think, “This narrator is talking to adults!” Now, this thought first crossed my mind when the narrator suggested sending the little ones from the room or hiring a babysitter. But I dismissed the idea because it was clearly meant to hook the kids into reading more. When I read the narrator’s concluding remarks, it was like he knew the adult reader would be analyzing and critically reviewing the book, and he wanted us to know he knew!
That didn’t sit well with me. I felt manipulated. I thought the narrator was asking questions the kids needed to ask on their own. they were probably already questioning as they read but didn’t realize it. Whatever the case, it was simply too much and I like book a little less for it, I think. I want to lobotomize some sections!
Fuse #8 Production has a rather comprehensive review on SLJ. Becky’s Book Review raved about it. Eva’s Book Addiction also reviews it. Adam Giwitz has a great FAQ page that helped soften me on the aspects of the book I didn’t particularly like.
Everyone thinks children are sweet as Necco Wafers, but I’ve lived long enough to know the truth: kids are rotten. The only difference between grown-ups and kids is that grown-ups go to jail for murder. Kids get away with it (p 3).
It’s 1935 and Turtle’s mom has found a job housekeeping for a lady who doesn’t like children. So eleven-year-old Turtle is sent to live with her Conch relations in the Keys.
Mama told me that Conchs are what folks in Key West call themselves. A lot of them originally came from the Bahamas, where they fished for conch (p 37).
At first, Florida is nothing to Turtle but a hot, sticky place where children run around barefoot, avocados are called Alligator pears and everyone has weird names like Beans, Pork Chop, Johnny Cakes and Slow Poke. But before too long, Turtle settles into the rhythm of life, making friends with the Diaper Gang (a group of boys who babysit the youngest members of the neighborhood for candy payment and zealously guard their secret diaper rash formula) and the town crank, Nana Philly.
Turtle is a wonderfully drawn character. She is one of those children that holds it together because her mother always seems to need taking care of. She’s wise to the world but still hopeful. She’s also young enough to easily let go of her disappointments.
Folks have always told me that I look like Mama. … Our eyes are different, though. I think the color of a person’s eyes says a lot about them. Mama has soft blue eyes, and all she sees is kittens and roses. My eyes are gray as soot, and I see things for what they are. The mean boy on the porch has green eyes. Probably from all the snot in his nose (p 17).
My only complaint is that our time together felt entirely too short.
Transporting readers to some time in the past and really having them feel that environment consistently without oppressing them can be tricky. But with subtle (Necco wafers) and overt (Shirley Temple) references, I always felt the place and time without it being forced.
I knew Holm’s was the author of Baby Mouse, which I’ve perused, but I had no idea she was such a talented novelist. Turtle in Paradise is a 2011 John Newbery Honor book.
It is the end of the world. Sounding like the explosions and screams in the D-day movies Mr. Gregg made us watch in history. It’s a herd of elephants. Wild cackling hyenas let loose. A stampede of all the jungle animals. Crackling, keening, bursting, pounding, the wind screeching like banshees. Sirens dooming sailors at sea. Rain whipping wood, whoosh, whoosh, whoosh, smacking the trees, beating out any sap. Like a thousand Kansas homes, not just Dorothy’s, were being swept up in a tornado (p 128-29).
When Lanesha is born, it is Mama Ya Ya, a midwife and healer, who releases her from the caul suffocating her. When Hurricane Katrina slams into her beloved New Orleans community, it is Lanesha who releases herself from the suffocating attic filling with water. With Mama Ya Ya’s ability to sense the storm coming and Lanesha’s wisdom to prepare, the two hunker down for one of the costliest hurricanes in US history.
The writing is unique and lovely. I believe this book also has a lot of kid appeal. Lanesha is a strong character but a loner because of her strange eyes that can see ghosts and Mama Ya Ya’s unsettling abilities. She is shunned by her mother’s family who live Uptown but her love for Mother Ya Ya more than makes up for this offense. The two have strong bonds and it’s a beautiful thing to read about.
And when I heard it was about Hurricane Katrina, I was instantly curious. The subject is handled brilliantly, with issues of community, family, bullying and love managed expertly through our twelve-year-old narrator. Even if it isn’t a strong contender for the Newbery, I hope it is discussed.
“It’s made from sassafras leaves,” Singe told her as she chopped up the okra and tomatoes, brought home fresh from the Tater Grocery & Market the day before.
Keeper loved loved loved that smell. “It smells scrumptious,” she told Singe. The spicy scent settled on her skin.
Keeper knew that the pot would sit on the stove top all day, simmering and stewing, and at the last minute, just before she served it, Singe would drop the crabs into a pot of boiling water, one at a time, and then add them to the gumbo (p 21-22).
With its use of repitition, with sound as well as word repitition, Appelt’s Keeper is like a song. Take the excerpt from above. The s sound slides off your tongue, a hiss fills air, and you can almost hear the gumbo cooking.
The story opens with Keeper sitting in a boat, waiting. And waiting some more. While she waits, we get an introduction of sorts. Keeper cleans surf boards for Dogie. She is methodical and her tenderness for Dogie is apparent.
But that pokie old blue moon is taking it’s time. Just as a mind with nothing to occupy itself will wander, the story wanders, taking us through Keeper’s day until we understand why such a young lass is sitting in a boat with only her dog for a companion. Waiting for the tide to take her out to sea.
There were moments when I grew impatient with Appelt’s repetition, especially as I was nearing the finale. Some part of me is a little disappointed at such a happy ending but the rest of me loves every aspect of the magic. My heart just about broke when the origin of Keeper’s unusual name was revealed.
Is it distinguished though? The Newbery Committee has their work cut out for themselves!
“Go quickly, all of you,” the teacher said, his voice low and urgent. “Into the bush. Do you hear me? Not home. Don’t run home. They will be going into the villages. Stay away from the villages – run into the bush” (p 6).
It is 1985. The Sudanese civil war, begun in 1983, has just reached eleven-year-old Salva’s village of Loun-Ariik. He flees with many others east, toward Ethopia. But first, they must cross war-torn Sudan, the Nile, and miles of desert.
It is 2008 in the Sudan. Nya must walk miles back and forth to the pond for water. Every day. Her sister gets sick from the dirty water and they must decide to walk to a distant doctor or let her fragile body rest and hope for the best.
Nya is a fictional character but Salva is based on the experiences of Salva Dut, who was born in the Sudan. I don’t want to say any more about his life story because I didn’t know it when I started. Linda Sue Park tells of Nya and Salva in alternating chapters. At first, they seem like separate stories, taking place years apart. But they come together so beautifully at the end.
This is deceptively short, coming in at 128 pages but packed with a lot of punch. The war for water in the Sudan is like the war for oil in ‘developed’ countries. It is precious. Those who don’t have it, covet it. Tribes fight over control of it for generations.
Salva’s trek to various refugee camps are fraught with hardship, loss and cruelty so brutal you will rise up in your seat with concern and outrage with the inhumanity of it. Park compliments her subject perfectly with raw prose that neither exaggerate nor overly adorn. The ending contrasts the excess found in America with the want for basic needs in much of Africa.
Another contender for your Mock newbery 2011.
This is a review of an advance reader copy provided by the publisher. It is slated for release in November 2010.
Books are not like people. Books are safe.
The librarian won’t let you take the Physicians’ Desk Reference home even if you hide it in the middle of thirty-two books. She says you have to leave it in the reference section so others might enjoy it. I know I will enjoy it. But she says that is not the point. She never does tell me what the point is but Devon says sometimes you just have to do what a teacher or librarian says even if you think it’s stupid. Also, he says you shouldn’t tell them out loud that you think it’s stupid. That’s a secret that stays in your head only (p 34).
Of all the children’s and YA books I have read that feature or include children who are differently abled, this is the first that moved me to tears. Erskine has crafted a remarkable novel, so fine in it’s delivery that I forgot myself at times and suffered and struggled along with her characters.
Caitlin has Aspergers. Her older brother, Devon, had always explained the world to Caitlin in terms she could understand. But now Devon is dead, shot through the chest during a school shooting by a classmate.
Her mother died several years ago. Her father is lost in his grief. But when Caitlin read the definition of Closure, she believes she has found a way to fix things.
There are many things I love about this book: the consistency of its unique voice, the pacing, and the characters who are all perfectly portrayed whether the appear briefly or often.
Some books irk me when the writer relies heavily on a previously written work of fiction (When You Reach Me for example). While this book often refers to the movie adaptation of Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, it doesn’t phase me in the least. I just feel the need to handle the book with more delicacy now that I’ve read and loved it.
The one aspect I do question is the perceived need to have differently-abled people adapt to ‘our’ world, to behave as society would like them to behave. It seems as though this only succeeds in making the person uncomfortable so ‘normal’ people don’t feel uncomfortable.
I’m not questioning the need to help people with disabilities perform to the best of their abilities (as Mrs. Brook is doing by helping Caitlin understand empathy) but rather the assumption that their natural and comforting impulses should be stifled so society doesn’t feel awkward. I have to think on this more…
Definitely a strong piece of literature that deserves a place on your mock Newbery lists.
Jake Kincaid was known as the dowser. With a forked branch, he’d made his way from the Arkansas Territory to Missouri, stopping at farms to find water for new wells. His plan was to raise enough money so he could do what he wanted and never pick up a branch again. But the dowsing was a gift. ANd a gift might be abandoned, but it will always be there, waiting to be claimed (p 1).
Magical Realism as a literary genre is characterized by the matter-of-fact inclusion of fantastical elements in otherwise realistic novels.
The Water Seeker has several elements of magical realism. The most obvious is dowsing. In occultism, dowsing is the use of a forked piece of wood to detect such hidden resources as water, minerals and other treasures.
Jake inherited the ability to dowse for water from his father but turned to trapping to make a living instead. Seemingly resentful of his gift, he dowses for wells only when need be, as folks they settle west into North America during the early 1800s. Unbeknownst to him, Jake passes on this gift to Amos, his only son.
There are also magical elements surrounding Amos’s mother, Delilah, who dies in childbirth. Birds are ever-present around Amos, as they were for Delilah, appear in many pivotal scenes:
Delilah has just given birth to Amos, with her mother as nursemaid.
“Tell Jake I done my best. Don’t let the baby forget me.”
With that, she took her last breath. The cabin and the world outside the window grew silent. And every bird at Bittersweet Creek flew away (p 9).
Amos tries to swim and almost drowns.
Amos flapped his arms and kicked his feet. Somehow he managed to reach above again. He looked into the sun. Black dots circled in the sky. Just as he realized th dots were crows, he sank again (p 82).
When Eliza dies on the Oregon trail, a group of sparrows land nearby.
“Amos felt the need to strike something, and he sat up and swung at them. ‘Get out of here!’ (p 191)”
There are many more. The wise owl hoots when Amos learns the truth of Rebecca’s death (p 231). His Indian friends are Sparrow Hawk and Blue Owl.
Uncle Otts peers down at Drew and blinks. The sun peaks out from behind the as he slowly, painfully, recognizes Drew and salutes him back. “At ease, Private,” he says softly. His shoulders slump and tears crowd his eyes (p 43).
Franny’s life is beset by problems. It is 1962 and the threat of nuclear war permeates every part of her life, especially as her father is a military pilot. Her older sister, a college student, is keeping secrets. Franny’s best friend isn’t acting friendly and her crazy Uncle Otts isn’t helping her reputation by digging up the front lawn to build a bomb shelter and ordering her about like a soldier.
In this first of three companion books, Wiles has created what some are calling a documentary fiction. The book begins with photos, advertisements, quotes and other historical matter setting the stage for Franny and her family’s life just outside a base near Washington, D.C.
Franny’s story is frequently interrupted… by a 007 movie poster, a Nancy Drew cover image, a short biography of Pete Seeger and the like, painting a more complete picture of the world surrounding Franny and her family and adding greatly to the overall story.
I love that Franny enjoys reading out loud during class. I was the same way, always wanting the teacher to call on me. I love that Franny resents Judy because of her poor singing voice, that she adores her father and longs for her older sisters attention while simultaneously hating her. She is just a great, complete character.
If I were a middle school history teacher, I would send Wiles a Thank You card. As it is, I’m sure this one will garner attention by mock Newbery groups and bloggers (However are we to categorize these new, form and genre defying books? **I’m looking at you, Hugo**).
*UPDATED AUGUST 30, 2010*
Here are some snipits from our mock Newbery group discussion:
The inserts really amped up the tension.
Those who were in school during the 60′s didn’t remember Bert the Turtle (including one member who lived in D.C.).
Those who were in school during the 60′s recalled that the death of Kennedy and the resulting stree stuck in their memories more than the fear of nuclear attack.
Love the opening line of the book, “I’m eleven years old and I’m invisible.”
The mother in this story reminds one of the mother from Neil Armstrong is My Uncle and Other Lies Muscle Man McGinty Told Me.
Franny and her girlfriends model their behavior after their mothers.
What does the name Countdown signify/mean to you? What would a kids impression be from the title and cover? Take the flap off and look at the illustration on the hard cover. Powerful.
How will kids react to the inserts? Will it enhance the story or will they skip over it?
