#TheList, No. 811: The Witch of Blackbird Pond

I've abandoned my randomly generated list in order to tackle some of the more Halloween-y appropriate books this month.  Last week was Violet Park's Me, the Missing, and the Dead.  This week, I revisited one of my favorite books I read for class in the fifth grade: Elizabeth George Speare's Newbery Medal-winning novel, The Witch of Blackbird Pond.

After her grandfather's death, Kit Tyler, sails from Barbados to Connecticut to live with her only living family members.  While Kit knows she will be welcomed into the family, she does not anticipate the strict religious beliefs governing every move in her new Puritanical home. Kit struggles to adjust to the Puritan lifestyle while maintaining her own beliefs. Her often unconventional behavior immediately arouses suspicion throughout the town and it is only made worse when she befriends a Quaker woman whom many believe to be a witch. 

There's a lot to work with in this piece of historical fiction: the value of hard work, the pressure to adapt to change, the right to education, the right to independent beliefs, the need to accept others with varying viewpoints, etc. My favorite is how the strength of women is explored in both positive and negative lights. Kit is a positive force - resisting conformity through charitable actions for those deemed unworthy. The "witch," Kit's family, and Prudence are also positive reflections of women's strength. But throughout the novel "women's talk" is used as a weapon against those who are different. It saturates the town and becomes powerful enough to drive a woman into hiding and bring another to trial. It's a realistic portrayal of the fanaticism that really existed during the witch trials and it's interesting to contrast it to the actions of the other positive female characters in the novel.

A few of the students have seen me with this book and have exclaimed that it's one of their favorites. That makes me happy.  Sure, the ending might be a little too happy than realistic, but it's still a great way to introduce children to the actual events of that time period. 

In Wonder Show, Hannah Barnaby tells the tale of a young girl's search for family.  Portia grows up in a world full of laughter and stories with her family of gypsies, but one by one they leave until she has only her aunt.  Her aunt, unable to handle Portia's active imagination, sends her to a boarding home for wayward girls. Desperate to reunite with her father, Portia escapes the evil Mister of the home.  She hides with a traveling sideshow, hoping all the while that she will see her father's face in the crowd.  There, while outcast as a "normal" amongst the "freaks," Portia finds the true meaning of family and what it means to leave one behind.

The freaks at the sideshow are inspired by real attractions found in the Barnum & Bailey circus and sideshows during the depression era.  The description of the family element that they share reminded me of the "peculiars" in Miss Peregrine's Home for Peculiar Children.  That got me thinking of bouncing these two books off of each other in a book club and exploring their similar themes.

Wonder Show has a few references to some nude Siamese twin dancing, but because it's not incredibly explicit and Portia's reaction to it is important to her growth, I'd say that this novel would be great for middle school readers and up. 

#TheList, No. 551: The Wolves of Willoughby Chase

A 5th grader asked me for a "bunch of suggestions" on what to read over winter break.  So we walked around the fiction section picking out books at leisure and talked about them until she had a sizeable pile.  It was a slow day in the library, I wish that this was a daily occurrence.  It would be heavenly.  During our stroll through amazing books, she grabbed Joan Aiken's The Wolves of Willoughby Chase and told me it was one of her favorites.  She talked about 55 mph about it so I promised her I would check it out over the winter break.

I felt guilty that I didn't like it as much as she so obviously did, but I can see the appeal: adventure, good vs. evil, smart, brave children, fantastical good relationships between the rich and the help, and, my favorite, symbolism!

A pair of cousins, with the help of friends (servants), take down their evil governess and her scheme to take over the family's estate and create a school for the elite in order to steal their money. Also, there are wolves all over the place. The book starts off as (for me at least) a bit of a snoozefest. Once the parents are removed, the plot considerably picks up pace.

It makes sense, of course, that that is where the book picks up.  The first rule of children's lit is "kill the parents."  With parents around, there are rules and expectations.  Once they're gone, the children can have adventures.  What's interesting about this book is that the opposite occurs.  The parents, particularly the father, is all about the fun.  He encourages his daughter, Bonnie, to be a rambunctious brat.  Once he's gone, the governess imparts strict rules upon Bonnie and her cousin, Sylvia.  Twist!

Oddly enough, it's these rules that allow the adventure to begin.  The girls rebel against the governess, get sent to an evil orphanage, escape, and take down the evil woman.  All with many compliments to each other for such smarts.  On top of this,

Not my favorite of children's lit, but the symbolic value of the wolves gets it some more points (the governess and her evil partners are like the wolves!).   I'd label the book as historical fiction and would definitely recommend this to a child who likes classics (like the girl who loves it so much).

#TheList, No. 904: The Ruby in the Smoke

First off, Happy New Year!! (or Happy No Year if you're a Friends fan).

Now, The Ruby in the Smoke, by Phillip Pullman.  I enjoyed it well enough, but I'm fuzzy on the details of the plot.  Allow me to paint a picture of my experience reading this novel.

I was flying to Virginia and had to make a connecting flight in Newark.  After my first flight out of Boston was delayed three times, I was actually delighted to be in the worst place in the US.  But then my connecting flight was delayed and delayed and delayed and finally canceled.

I feel ya.

Long story short, I spent 17 hours in the Newark airport, going almost 35 hours without sleep.  I read three books and listened to two iPods until they died (yes, I carry a backup iPod sometimes...).  But then someone incredibly awesome drove from VA to NJ and saved me and the rest of vacation was relaxing.

But The Ruby in the Smoke was the last book I read as I approached 30 hours of no sleep.  While I read this book, a seagull flew over my head.  I was inside the terminal.  Later, a pigeon stopped by.  Then a sparrow. Obviously, I was distracted as I read this novel.

From what I recall, in this mystery adventure, Ms. Sally Lockhart's father had died and she receives a somewhat cryptic message that leads her to find out secrets of her father's life.  During this adventure, she displays ridiculous amounts of business savvy, love for her pistol, and a sense of incredible calmness.  I think she's also 12.

But I liked it for some obvious reasons.  The lead is a young girl who knows how to take care of herself.  There's a mystery at hand.  The novel is historical fiction.  There's some humor, a little violence, and a pretty good ending (if I am remembering correctly).  With all of the novels for children and teens being released with strong female leads (or female leads in the case of Twilight), this a good book to fall back upon if those newer books are unavailable or already read.  Plus, the kids might find the author familiar if they enjoyed The Golden Compass series.

Book Review: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate

The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate, by Jacqueline Kelly, is an entertaining work of historical fiction.  It centers on the turn of the 19th century in a town near Austin, Texas.  Darwin's theory of evolution is still not accepted among the masses (just like today!), but it's the height of scientific discoveries.  This all happens while men and women are still separated into their distinct gender roles (just like today!).

Young Calpurnia doesn't want to be the typical young lady.  She's fascinated by the observations she makes about the plant and animal life that surrounds her.  Teaming up with her grandfather to discover mutations in species (or as she says moo-tations), she becomes more and more interested in pursuing a life of science, as well as more and more interested in distancing herself from the life her mother has planned for her daughter.

Kelly introduces each chapter with quotes from Darwin's Origin of Species, guiding the reader to apply scientific processes to Calpurnia's everyday life.  She evolves in the same way other organisms evolve, and readers observe her break free from the norm as she studies the potentially new "moo-tant" species.

My favorite part of Calpurnia is that she isn't completely anti-everything expected of young ladies.  She's a bit of a Liz Lemon:

She may put up a fight against knitting, but then she realizes she kind of enjoys it, and that's okay.  Being so completely against all of these things would make her character feel forced and give off a false indication of what a science-serious girl should be.

Bridging the gap between various subjects is a fun task for librarians, particularly school librarians, and Calpurnia Tate offers a lot of potential for English-Science, English-History, and/or History-Science pairings.  If anything, it could be used in a fiction section in a science or history display.  But if you're going for more elaborate programming, it's time to brush off your scientific classification skills, classify characters into different species, and invite students to do the same for other characters, either from Calpurnia Tate or elsewhere.

#TheList, No. 913: The Devil’s Arithmetic

The first thing I noticed when I set out to write this entry was how "The List" and the book's publisher (my copy is a Puffin Modern Classic) recommend this book for completely different age groups.  If you haven't read Jane Yolen's The Devil's Arithmetic (I hadn't) or don't know what it's about (I didn't), the book is about the Holocaust and the age group determination mainly has to do with this subject matter rather than any potential reading difficulties.  Alright, maybe some of the Yiddish would trip up a young reader, but that's what dictionaries or Jewish bosses are for!  My Jewish boss is conspicuously absent on this sunny day of work though...

"The List" recommends this title for children/young adults 12 and up, but the publisher stamps it with an 8 and up.  Deciding when this book is appropriate depends on the child's ability to handle some pretty traumatizing history. 

Quick plot summary: Hannah is a 12 year old girl who doesn't understand why remembering the past is such a big deal.  She's bored with her family's Passover celebrations and is jealous that her friends get to eat jellybeans on Easter (apparently this book was written before Reese's Peanut Butter Eggs were the big Easter hit) and basically have fun.  But while Hannah is going through one of her family's rituals, she's suddenly transported straight into the 1940s, where she is called Chaya and witnesses firsthand the horrors of the Holocaust.  At first, she is able to hold onto her memories, but soon her new present overwhelms her and she needs to live [survive] in the [horrible] moment until she learns why it is so important to remember her family's past. 

I wasn't a huge fan of Yolen's Briar Rose, which has a similar topic, but I loved The Devil's Arithmetic.  Having Hannah, a girl from the present, directly thrown into the action makes a great impact.  The immediacy of the action makes the material easier to digest, as opposed to Briar Rose when the main character just listens to a story.  Even the idea of a present day girl going back in time adds a lot to this book.  Books that simply take place during this time period can hinder a reader if they don't already possess background knowledge.  This setup helps a reader new to this topic understand the history before diving in. 

So who's right with the age recommendation?  No one is right.  Everyone is different. But if I had to place this book somewhere, I'd say it'd fit nicely in a 5th-6th grade history curriculum.  There are so many books with similar topics for this age range - - Number the Stars, The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, Milkweed, etc. - - that it'd be easy to assign one book to a group of students and have them present it to the class along with a history lesson that ties into their book's theme(s).   The book would also be a great gateway into this topic, especially because a lot of children either don't know the history or don't understand why something that happened years ago could still be so painful.   

Review: Briar Rose

This novel, a different take on Sleeping Beauty, was...not what I expected.  I was expecting more of an Ella Enchanted type of fractured fairytale, which is how it was presented to me in the review I originally read.  It's not so much an indirect retelling of Sleeping Beauty; instead, Yolen uses Sleeping Beauty directly to discuss the Holocaust.

On her deathbed, an elderly Polish woman who is convinced she's a fairy tale princess asks her granddaughter, Becca, to trace her family history.  After she passes away, Becca, who just happens to be a super liberal reporter, decides to jet off to Poland to find out what her grandmother (Gemma) kept hidden about her past.  All she has is a box of documents that was hidden for years, some background research, and the memories of all the times Gemma told her the story of Briar Rose, with some minor changes.  

The structure of the novel is really effective.  Every other chapter is a memory of Gemma telling the story; each flashback progresses the fairy tale a little bit.  In between the flashbacks, Becca completes her research on her Gemma's past.  She discovers the horrors she lived through during WWII and can finally understand why Gemma believed she was Briar Rose.

However, the narration was awkward: I noticed a few times that the 3rd person narrator would comment on Becca's thoughts, and then Becca would just say what she's thinking.  Also, the subplots regarding her struggles with romance and her sisters felt unnecessary and took away from the search for her family's past. 

But, all in all, it's an interesting use of Sleeping Beauty and a unique way to discuss the Holocaust.  It's a quick read, obviously depressing, but ultimately uplifting.  Just don't expect an entirely new version of Sleeping Beauty if you choose to read the novel. 

The Help

I'm a huge book snob.  If a book I've read and loved becomes a movie, I want to hate the movie (though "Hugo" was surprisingly wonderful) and if a book I haven't read becomes a movie, I never want to read the book and appear as if I've jumped on the bandwagon.  It's tough.

I kept seeing people reading The Help on the T every day, and each time I could only think of the SNL Weekend Update bit with Tyler Perry (aka Kenan from "Kenan and Kel") where he says "Oh yes, 'The Help!' A film that teaches black women the lesson that if you work hard enough and hum loud enough, Emma Stone will come and save you."  And I would chuckle to myself and keep reading whatever children's book I had with me that day. 

But my grandmother, whom I love dearly, read and recommended The Help to me, and as someone who bought me give or take 1 zillion books when I was growing up, I always read what she recommends.  Plus, I'm a sucker for female empowerment stories, even ones where girls decide they don't want to complain about being single, but want to get a job and just complain about that instead. 

It's.So.Good.  A girl called Skeeter (because, why not?) wants to make it as a serious writer and needs a controversial topic to write about to break into the business.  She interviews black maids and writes their stories, as well as her own, in a book to exploit the horrors of segregation in Mississippi.  But by the end, of course, it's less about her finding success and more about her really wanting to help the women she writes about.

Without getting into the argument over whether or not a white author has the authority to present black point of views, the multiple point of views is the best part about the book.  The only addition that would make it better would be the perspectives of a racist character and a man so it'd be slightly more balanced, but still, it's effective.  Also, the romance bits sometimes seem out of place, but they help to highlight the severe flaws in most of the white characters. 

Who won't like this: Racists.  Sadly, they probably need it the most. 

Review: Al Capone Does My Shirts

This book is amazing.  Choldenko's book won the Newbery Honor in 2005, and though I haven't read the winner from that year, Kira-Kira, I want to say that this "Tale from Alcatraz" deserved the win.  Not that the win actually determines the worth of a novel.

Al Capone Does My Shirts is set in the Depression era, when everyone was dazzled by criminal antics.  The Flannagan family has moved to Alcatraz as a result of the father's new guard/electrician position\y.  Obviously, the job was hard to come by and it becomes necessary for the family to adjust to life on an island full of the most dangerous criminals in the country.

There is so much more to this story.  When I first picked it up, I thought it would just be a simple comedic story.  I mean, the title makes it seem like it's just silly.  The story starts off with a hilarious scheme to sell students in San Francisco the opportunity to have their shirts washed by Al Capone.  But the novel quickly becomes so much more.  Moose, the protagonist of the novel, has an autistic sister, Natalie, in a time where the usual treatment was institutionalization.  Throughout the novel, he goes to great lengths to protect her from their surroundings and from herself. 

The ending is wonderful.  I can't get over how much I loved the ending to this novel.  It reminds me so much of Richard Peck's A Long Way From Chicago, another work of historical fiction set in the Depression with a great ending.  The strong characterization is similar to Peck's award-winner as well.  The family is well-defined and the relationship between brother and sister is incredibly moving as the story progresses.  So why the use of Alcatraz as a setting for this novel about living with and attempting to hide an autistic sister?  Symbolism!  Moose is trapped from his previous life and Natalie is often imprisoned inside herself, just as the convicts are locked away in the actual prison.  Kids will eat this stuff up once they figure that out.  At least, the dorks like me who love symbolism will. 

So this novel can clearly be used in the classroom or the library for its historical and psychological elements.  It's a great discussion starter and can lead to further interest in works of historical fiction or even nonfiction accounts of the Depression.  I'd say this book is best for pre-teens (tweens) and young teens.  But honestly, it's a great novel and definitely worth picking up regardless of age.