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2021 MGF: Once Upon a Camel by Kathi Appelt

First of all, I have a prejudice in favor of books set in Texas, as long as the Texas culture and history is authentic. Once Upon a Camel, set in my native West Texas, is spot on. Secondly, I absolutely loved Kathi Appelt’s The Underneath and thought it should have won a Newbery Award a few years ago. However, not everyone agreed with me. So you may or may not agree with me that Once Upon a Camel is in the top tier of middle grade fiction published in 2021.

The novel is similar in style to The Underneath, but as I said, it’s set in West Texas, not East. And it features an aging, storytelling camel and a family of kestrels caught in a haboob, a giant, overwhelmingly destructive, dust storm. I loved the storytelling and the way it was woven into the greater story. I loved the kindness and courage exhibited by the animal characters.

The animals are anthropomorphized, but they also stay true to their animal nature for the most part. Zada, the camel, is sometimes loud, nurturing as an honorary auntie, and fond of racing (at least, she was a racer in her youth), and not so fond of horses. The kestrel couple, Pard and Perlita, are fierce and loyal and persistently loving. The baby kestrels, Wims and Beulah, are, well, they are babies, much like human children, quarrelsome yet tender with each other, impulsive, prone to getting into trouble, yet definitely lovable. Even the mountain lion, Pecos de Leon, is only a little bit scary and ominous, and he, too is susceptible to the calming influence of a good story.

Zada’s stories come from her history, and they’re the kind of stories that humans would tell in family groups or in communities. They are family stories, and the book is yet another iteration of the theme that “stories will save the world.” In the author’s note at the end of the book, Ms. Appelt writes:

“In these days of so much anger and division, it’s more important than ever that we take time to share our stories, which at their most basic level tie us to each other in fundamental ways. After all we’ve been gathering around campfires and kitchen tables for thousands of years and doing just that. We are, all of us, story beasts, made to tell stories, built for them.”

p. 321

I highly recommend that you make your acquaintance with Zada, the camel, and that you read her stories and the story of the haboob and how Zada and her friends survived in it. We’ve all been experiencing our own massive “dust storms” through the past couple of years, and perhaps a fictional West Texas camel can help us find our own survival strategies. And even if there are no profound lessons to be learned from Zada, a little humor and a light story never hurt in the midst of a storm.

Heidi and Toasted Cheese

For our Cultivating Beauty and Truth study feast, we’re reading Heidi by Johanna Spyri. It’s not the first time I’ve ever read Heidi, but it has been a long time since the last time I read it, probably out loud to my now-adult children. I am savoring the story and the characters and the scenery.

From The Storybook Cookbook by Carol MacGregor: A delightful variation of this Alpine treat, Heidi’s Toasted Cheese Sandwiches:

INGREDIENTS:

2 eggs

3/4 cup milk

1/2 tsp. salt

8 slices of Swiss cheese or 8 slices of American cheese

8 slices of bread

4 Tbsp. butterCurrant jelly (optional)

1. Crack the eggs on the edge of a bowl or piepan and drop them into the bowl. Beat the eggs slightly with a fork. Stir in the milk and the salt.

2. Make the cheese sandwiches by putting two slices of Swiss cheese or two slices of American cheese between two slices of bread. (American cheese has a stronger flavor.)

3. Put a frying pan on the stove and turn the heat to medium. Melt 2 tablespoons of the butter in the pan, but do not let it burn. 

4. Dip the sandwiches on both sides in the egg-and-milk mixture. Let them soak a minute. When the butter is hot, brown 2 of the sandwiches on both sides, turning them with a spatula. Add the rest of the butter to the frying pan and brown the last 2 sandwiches. A teaspoon of currant jelly on top each sandwich makes them even tastier.Makes 4 sandwiches.

I’ve never made grilled cheese sandwiches with soaked in an egg mixture nor have I ever put any kind of jelly on top. But it sounds as if it could be good. So, other than an appetite for grilled cheese and fresh goat’s milk, what do you remember about reading Heidi?

Admiral Byrd of Antarctica by Michael Gladych

Another Messner biography, published in 1960, Admiral Byrd of Antarctica is a solid, decent read, but not as enthralling or inspiring as other Messner biographies I’ve read. Gladych characterizes Byrd, who explored both the Arctic and the Antarctic, as resourceful, persistent, brave and somewhat driven by a desire to do something important and noteworthy.

The most celebrated event of Byrd’s life came in 1934 on his second Antarctic expedition when he spent five months alone gathering meteorological data in a base station during the antarctic winter. He almost died of carbon monoxide poisoning from a poorly ventilated stove. He later wrote an account of his experiences when isolated and on his own in his book, Alone. Gladych quotes Byrd saying about his motivation for manning the station by himself:

“There comes a time in every man’s life when he should take stock of himself—sort of check on his navigation, so to speak. . . . You see, it has taken me a long time to get where I am today. And we are all like aircraft on nonstop flights, with time like precious fuel which we cannot replenish. God alone knows how much time-fuel I have left, and I’d like to check my course—make sure that where I am headed is where I should be going. I can do it best alone—out there.”

p.156

I don’t know if that’s an actual quote from Admiral Byrd, or a paraphrase of something he said, or entirely made up by author Gladych. However, while the idea of checking your course by way of an extended retreat is a good one, I think it could have been accomplished with less drama and danger, to Byrd and to his compatriots who eventually had to come to his rescue. But, then, what do I know about polar exploration or the compulsion to adventure and challenge the unknown?

Admiral Byrd was one of the most highly decorated Navy officers in U.S. military history. He also got all kinds of awards and commendations from various non-governmental organizations. But the fact that his wife, Marie, stayed married to him and raised their four children by herself for a good bit of their marriage seems like the best commendation of all. She must have seen something in him. He did name a region in Antartica after his long-suffering wife, Marie Byrd Land.

Some other books about Admiral Byrd and his adventures:

  • Black Whiteness: Admiral Byrd Alone in the Antarctic by Robert Burleigh. Picture book about Byrd’s famous near-death experiment in solitude.
  • Something to Tell the Grandcows by Ellen Spinelli. Picture book. Hoping to have an adventure to impress her grandcows, Emmadine Cow joins Admiral Richard E. Byrd on his 1933 expedition to the South Pole. I have this book in my library.
  • Alone: The Classic Polar Adventure by Richard Evelyn Byrd.
  • Explorer: The Life of Richard E. Byrd by Lisle E. Rose. An adult biography of the explorer published in 2008.
  • Richard E. Byrd: Adventurer to the Poles by Adele de Leeuw. A children’s biography from the series by Garrard Publishers, Discovery biographies.
  • Byrd & Igloo: A Polar Adventure by Samantha Seiple. A narrative account for children of the daring adventures of the legendary polar explorer and aviator and his loveable dog companion draws on letters, diaries, interviews, newspaper clippings, and expedition records.
  • Admiral Richard Byrd: Alone in the Antarctic by Paul Rink. Original title: Conquering Antartica: Admiral Richard E. Byrd.
  • We Were There With Byrd at the South Pole by Charles S. Strong. Juvenile fiction set during Byrd’s first Antarctic expedition.

The Horse Without a Head by Paul Berna

Paul Berna was the pseudonym for French journalist Jean Sabran who wrote children’s books in French during the latter half of the twentieth century. The Horse Without a Head (French title: Le Cheval Sans Tête, 1955) was also published in English with the title A Hundred Million Francs, and it tells the story of a gang of poor working class French children who own one treasure: a headless horse on tricycle wheels that carries them on dangerous and thrilling rides down the narrow streets of Louvigny, a small town in northwest France. The story takes place just after World War II, and there are a few references to leftover bomb craters and deserted warehouses that were abandoned during or after war.

I was reminded as I read of the movie, The Goonies. The ten children in the self-styled “gang” are all under thirteen, street savvy, but also honest and innocent. Their leader, Gaby, “purposely kept the numbers down and never accepted anyone over thirteen, for as he said, ‘When you turn thirteen you get dopey, and you’re lucky if you don’t stay that way for the rest of your life.'” Each child has a distinct personality, but the central figures in the story are Gaby, Fernand, the original owner of the headless horse, and Marion, a somewhat mysterious dog whisperer and amateur vet.

To an adult reader, the book is obviously a translation and of a different era. Some of the dialog is awkwardly phrased in English, and the transitions in the action and logic are sometimes abrupt and difficult to follow. At one point in the story, one of the children brandishes an old rusty revolver and says that although he knows it won’t shoot, “I don’t feel so frightened when I’m holding it.” This bit of business, not at all vital to the plot, would certainly be excised by any editor nowadays. The crooks in the story actually shoot real guns at the children, but of course no one is injured. This is an adventure story, not a treatise on violence and gun safety. The horse rides themselves are quite dangerous, described as going forty or even sixty miles an hour (probably exaggerated) downhill and involving inevitable crashes and spills along the way. The adventures of the children are not meant to be imitated at home, although they very well may lead to some experimentation with wheeled vehicles.

I found the book to be quite a nice escape on a rainy Monday evening, and I would recommend it, if you can get past the Frenchiness and playing with guns. My Scholastic paperback edition from 1964 carries a price of 45 cents on the cover, and I surely got at least 45 cents worth of entertainment from the story. (The price has gone up to about $10.00 for a used paperback, more than twenty for a used hardcover copy.) I thought as I was reading that The Horse Without a Head would make a good movie with some editing and rearranging, and I see that Walt Disney made a movie based on this book; it’s available to rent from Amazon Prime video. Has anyone seen the movie? Or read this little French gem?

Reading Lolita in Tehran by Azar Nafisi

Reading Lolita in Tehran: A Memoir in Books by Azar Nafisi

This book is one that I might have enjoyed more had I discovered it on my own rather than hearing about it for ages before I finally tried it out for myself. Published in 2003, Reading Lolita has gotten rave reviews, has been recommended widely and repeatedly, and was a best selling memoir. Maybe it was just too inflated for me to appreciate the book for what it was.

Reading Lolita starts out well. In the fall of 1995, the author is meeting with a group of students, all female, in her apartment after she resigned from the university where she was a professor of English-speaking literature. One of her former students reminds her: “She reminded me of a warning I was fond of repeating: do not, under any circumstances, belittle a work of fiction by trying to turn it into a carbon copy of real life; what we search for in fiction is not so much reality but the epiphany of truth.” This rather pithy statement seems like a good truth to keep in mind, but in this book there is a fine line between reality, epiphany, and truth. And the line, to extend the metaphor, gets really blurred by the end of the story.

Next, the author introduces her girls, the group who have come to discuss literature in a place where they can do so openly and honestly and without veils and chadors that hide not only their bodies but also their ideas and dignity as persons. Eight women including the author herself. Ms. Nafisi describes them vividly: Manna the poet, Mahshid the sensitive lady, Yassi the comedian, Azin the fashionable divorcee, Mitra the artist, Sanaz the conformist, and Nassrin, the one that the author calls a Cheshire cat.

But after the introductory chapters, maybe even within the first few chapters, the book becomes scattered and sometimes incoherent. The narrative moves from the Thursday morning literary society to insights on Nabakov and The Great Gatsby to the history of Ms. Nafisi’s feud with the Islamic purity police to someone that the author calls her “magician.” The Magician is a sort of literary hermit who’s decided to withdraw from society as long as the Islamic Republic of Iran continues to shame and persecute intellectuals, but who also wields great influence as entertains carefully selected guests in his apartment and gives them advice and counsel? He’s a shadowy figure, and I never was sure whether he was an imagined character (for some literary purpose?) or whether he was real.

The timeline of Nafisi’s narrative jumps around like a cat (yes, on a hot tin roof), and the book is structured around the books and authors that the women read and discuss together: Lolita by Nabakov, The Great Gatsby by F. Scott Fitzgerald, Daisy Miller by Henry James, and Pride and Prejudice by Jane Austen. Although Nafisi mentions and sometimes discusses other books and other authors these four define the four sections of the book. I’m not sure why these four, but I suppose it’s because these are the books that resonated with Ms. Nafisi’s students. Of the four I’ve read Austen and Fitzgerald, and dabbled in Henry James (but not Daisy Miller). Of course, I found the allusions to and commentary on the books I have read more illuminating than those I haven’t. (Nabakov just sounds tawdry and distasteful.)

I had trouble keeping the women and their individual stories straight in my mind. I had a hard time figuring out the chronology of Ms. Nafisi’s life and story. I sort of understand why the women identified so strongly with Lolita; like women in the Islamic Republic, Lolita is a victim of misogyny and abuse and entrapment. But why Daisy in Great Gatsby or Daisy Miller? Both of these ladies are rather careless exploiters of others, rather than being helpless victims or overcoming societal expectations.

Maybe I read too fast. Maybe I wasn’t patient enough to tie the narrative together and mine the diamonds out of it. Nevertheless, it just won’t go on my personal list of all-time great memoirs.

At the Sign of the Golden Compass by Eric P. Kelly

Eric P. Kelly‘s historical novel, The Trumpeter of Krakow, won the Newbery Medal in 1929. At the Sign of the Golden Compass was published ten years later in 1938, and it has a lot in common with Mr. Kelly’s earlier award-winning novel. Although Golden Compass begins in London in 1576 with the nineteen year old printer’s apprentice Godfrey Ingram being accused of crime he didn’t commit, the main setting is the European continent, specifically the city of Antwerp, Belgium. Spain and Holland are at war, and rebellious and undisciplined Spanish troops are quartered in the Flemish city of Antwerp, threatening violence and pillage to the citizens of the city at any time. Or perhaps the Dutch troop will fight the Spanish in the very heart of the city itself.

Godfrey Ingram, after fleeing to Antwerp, finds himself in the middle of not only a war between the Spanish and the Dutch, but also an intellectual battle between medieval astrologers, sorcerers, and assorted fakirs who fear the spread of knowledge and of literacy and the progressive printers, authors and translators who are working to educate and illuminate by the power of the written word and the printing press. Godfrey finds sanctuary and begins work at the printshop of Christopher Plantin, who is memorialized at the Museum Plantin-Moretus in Antwerp to this day. Other actual historical characters who make an appearance in the novel are philosopher Justus Lipsius, Governor of Antwerp Champagney, Phillip II of Spain, and the painter Peter Paul Rubens.

The central antagonist in the novel is a famous astrologer and sorcerer (as in The Trumpeter of Krakow), and the book shows the controversy between the new ideas brought to the public by means of the printing press and the old superstitions that held men in bondage before the advent of mass printing. In fact the two main characters, Godfrey Ingram and Christopher Plantin, discuss the allure and power of printing toward the end of the book:

“I would far rather be a master craftsman in this trade than posses a doctor’s gown. Yea, I would rather print fine books than own a hundred ships that bore treasures from the Americas or the East.”

The Master’s eyes brightened. “You have it, too,” he said. “The fatal fascination of the press. I sometimes think that ink is a curse, that it lures men on when nothing else in this life interests them. I, indeed, am one such, caught in this folly. Yet, I would not have it otherwise. Write, I cannot. The gift of words has not been given me. But I have the desire, the madness–call it what you will–to print the words of others. To keep alive in the world the thought of thinking men, to spread abroad ideas that enliven and elevate.”

p.189-190

Eric P. Kelly’s style of writing is somewhat florid and overly dramatic; however, he is dealing with dramatic events: the rise of the printing press, the evil of deviltry and superstition, and the sack of Antwerp in 1576, also called the Spanish Fury and known as the greatest massacre in Belgian history. If you’ve read The Trumpeter of Krakow, the style of writing in this book is much the same as in that earlier book. It was off-putting at first, but as I persisted, I became quite engaged in the narrative. It’s not a time or series of events in history that I knew anything about, and I’m glad to have read about it in Mr. Kelly’s book.

Scots and All Things Scottish on Robbie Burns Day

I thought I’d link to some old posts about books set in Scotland and plan to read a few new ones in honor of Robert Burns Day, b. January 25, 1759.

  • I’d like to read some of the books from this list:
  • Scottish Chiefs by Jane Porter.
  • The Master of Ballantrae by Robert Louis Stevenson. Set in Scotland during the Jacobite Revolution of 1745 and its aftermath.
  • Mrs. Tim Gets a Job by D.E. Stevenson.
  • The Fields of Bannockburn by Donna Fletcher Crow.
  • Martin Farrell by Janni Howker.
  • Waverley by Sir Walter Scott. A young English dreamer and soldier, Edward Waverley, is sent to Scotland in 1745, into the heart of the Jacobite uprising.
  • Rob Roy by Sir Walter Scott. I read about half of this one, but found it hard going.
  • Valiant Minstrel: The Story of Harry Lauder by Gladys Malvern. Sir Harry Lauder was a vaudeville singer and comedian from Scotland.
  • Sir Gibbie by George MacDonald.
  • Highland Rebel by Sally Watson.
  • The King’s Swift Rider by Mollie Hunter.
  • Scottish Seas by Douglas M. Jones III.
  • The Flowers of the Field by Elizabeth Byrd.
  • In Freedom’s Cause: A Story of Wallace and Bruce by GA Henty.
  • Meggy MacIntosh: A Highland Girl in the Carolina Colony by Elizabeth Gray Vining.
  • Mary Queen of Scots and The Murder of Lord Darnley by Alison Weir.

Then, here are some Scottish flavored books I’ve read but not reviewed here at Semicolon. I remember all of these as books I would recommend:
Immortal Queen by Elizabeth Byrd. Historical romance about Mary, Queen of Scots.


The Iron Lance by Stephen Lawhead.
The 39 Steps by John Buchan.
Beside the Bonnie Brier Bush by Ian MacLaren.. A collection of stories of church life in a glen called Drumtochty in Scotland in the 1800’s. Recommended.
The Little Minister by J.M. Barrie. I get this one mixed up in my head with The Bonnie Brier Bush because both are set in rural Scotland among church people, and both are good. Also recommended.
The Princess and the Goblin by George MacDonald.
The Princess and Curdie by George MacDonald.
The Queen’s Own Fool by Jane Yolen. Mary, Queen of Scots again.

Recommended by other friends and bloggers:
The Tartan Pimpernel by Donald Caskie. Reviewed by Barbara at Stray Thoughts.
Robert Burns’ poetry, highlighted at Stray Thoughts.
Thistle and Thyme by Sorche Nic Leodhas. I actually have this collection of Scottish folktales in my library.
Heather and Broom by Sorche Nic Leodhas.
Claymore and Kilt : Tales of Scottish Kings and Castles by Sorche Nic Leodhas.
The Scotswoman by Inglis Fletcher.
Guns in the Heather by Lockhart Amerman.
The Gardener’s Grandchildren by Barbara Willard.
Duncan’s War (Crown and Covenant #1) by Douglas Bond.
Outlaws of Ravenhurst by M. Imelda Wallace.
Quest for a Maid by Frances May Hendry.
Little House in the Highlands by Melissa Wiley.
Bonnie Dundee by Rosemary Sutcliff. “The beginnings of the Jacobite rebellion when King James fled to Holland.”
The Stronghold by Mollie Hunter.
The Lothian Run by Mollie Hunter.
The Three Hostages by John Buchan. Recommended by Carol at Journey and Destination.
Scotland’s Story by H.E. Marshall.

Movies set in Scotland:
Brigadooon. I like this one partly because of Gene Kelly, partly because it takes place in Scotland, and partly because Eldest Daughter was in a local production of Brigadoon several years ago.
Stone of Destiny. Recommended by HG at The Common Room. I enjoyed this movie based on a true incident in 1950 when four Scots student stole the Stone of Scone from Westminster Abbey and returned it to Scotland from whence it came back in the thirteenth century.
Braveheart. William Wallace and all that jazz.

Scots poetry:
Young Lochinvar by Sir Walter Scott.
From Marmion by Sir Walter Scott.
My Luve’s Like a Red, Red Rose by Robert Burns.
In the Prospect of Death by Robert Burns.
Lament for Culloden by Robert Burns.
Beneath the Cross of Jesus by Elizabeth Clephane.
O Love That Wilt Not Let Me Go by George Matheson.

Parsifal Rides the Time Wave by Nell Chenault

I found a copy of this 1962 boy and his dog story while I was in Tennessee a few weeks back. It’s a sweet tale about Colin who is sent a magical helper, Parsifal, because Colin’s need is great. Colin is in the hospital, and although his body is nearly healed from injuries sustained in a bad accident, he is still grieving the loss of his beloved dog, Lad, who saved Colin from being killed in the accident at the cost of the dog’s life. So, Parsifal the Poddley’s first assignment is to help Colin deal with his grief.

Then, by means of a magical time wave, Colin is able to travel back in time to twelfth century Scotland where he meets his hero Robert the Bruce. The time travel part of this simple book is easy enough to understand, but still quite magical. The story is suitable for young readers, ages five to nine, what we would now called a beginning chapter book, but the introduction to the historical heroes of Scotland is sure to inspire further and more challenging reading. The time period, reading level, and length of the story (85 pages) reminded me of the books by Clyde Robert Bulla or Gertrude Chandler Warner (The Boxcar Children), but the magical and time travel elements put this book in a class of its own.

I read some reviews on Amazon for this book in which the reviewers said that Parsifal Rides the Time Wave was a book they remembered fondly from childhood. It’s perhaps a forerunner of the Magic Treehouse books, but the lessons Colin learns are timeless and gentle in their application. (There is a battle scene in which Robert the Bruce fights and kills his would-be assassins, so if violence in books for young children is a problem for you, you might want to skip this one.) I’m glad I found this one, and I’m happy to add it to my library.

Oh, it looks as if there’s another book about Parsifal the Poddley and time travel that came before this one, just called Parsifal the Poddley. Unfortunately this first book about Parsifal seems to be a unicorn, priced at over $100 on used book sites that I checked. If you come across a copy at thrift store prices, I would grab it. From the review at Kirkus Reviews:

Eight-year-old Christopher of Butterfield, Vermont, is badly in need of a Poddley, the special creature who comes to serve lonely little boys. And Parsifal the Poddley, on his first mission shows himself to be ideally suited for Christopher. Not only does he educate him to be more thoughtful, but he takes Christopher back in time to 1659 and introduces him to Vermont in its pioneer period. Christopher participates in a conflict between the Indians and settlers and arrives home just in time to find a neighbor and friend in the person of a new little boy whose family has just moved next door.

The Girl and the Ghost by Hanna Alkaf

For the kids who are afraid—whether it’s of bullies or ghosts or grumpy moms, first days or bad days or everything in-between days. You have more courage than you know.

Thank you to my parents, who never told me “this book is too scary for you.”

~Dedication at the beginning and Acknowledgements at the end of The Girl and the Ghost by Hanna Alkaf

Well, my first reaction is to tell all but the most intrepid readers that this book is too scary and dark and psychologically twisty for you. This is not a Casper-the-Friendly-Ghost sort of story. It is instead a story steeped in Malaysian folklore and culture about a witch grandmother who bequeaths to her granddaughter a pelesit, a ghost-monster-demon that lives to serve and obey its master but also survives by sucking a bit of its master’s blood every month during the full moon. Yeah, it’s called a blood-binding, and yes, this is a middle grade fiction book.

Suraya is the granddaughter, and she lives in rural Malaysia with her widowed mother and the pelesit that Suraya names Pink. Pink is Suraya’s only companion and only friend, and even though Pink is a rather dark and brooding presence in Suraya’s life, he’s certainly better than nothing—until Suraya makes a real friend, Jing Wei, who is wealthy, happy, and obsessed with Star Wars. Pink becomes jealous, and essentially goes over to the Dark Side.

Other than Jing Wei and her sunny and heedless personality, there’s not much in this book to lighten the darkness. Bullies, demons, an evil exorcist, and tortures (think: nightmares, blood, and insect infestations) inflicted by one’s erstwhile best friend are the main aspects of the plot and characters, and the sort of happy ending doesn’t really make up for the nightmare inducing remainder of the book. I was strangely fascinated and at the same time repelled by this story. I wouldn’t recommend it to any middle grade readers I know. But there may be some who would enjoy it and identify with the deeper themes of betrayal and family dysfunction and overcoming the darkness within ourselves and our own families.

Before the Sword by Grace Lin

Written as a sort of prequel to Disney’s Mulan (movie), Before the Sword takes Hua Mulan on a journey with the healer Jade Rabbit to save Mulan’s sister, Xiu, from dying from the bite of a poisonous spider. It turns out that the spider is more than a simple spider, and even Mulan herself might be something more than a clumsy, persistent, horse-loving, and unconventional village girl.

I’ve never watched the movie Mulan (can you believe it?), so I can’t say how well the book meshes with the characters and plot of the movie. However, Ms. Lin, a best-selling author of middle grade novels, easy readers, and picture books, with Disney’s permission and imprimatur. So, someone must have thought it paired well with the franchise.

The book read a lot like Ms. Lin’s previous non-Disney character middle grade novels—Where the Mountain Meets the Moon, When the Sea Turned to Silver, and Starry River of the Sky—which all have short legends and stories embedded in between chapters that tell an over-arching story. Before the Sword not only has short legends and folktales that illuminate and explain the main novel’s story, but it also switches point of view from time to time to tell the story from the perspective of the enslaved servant, the Red Fox, of the villain of the piece, who is Daji, the White Fox.

Fans of Ms. Lin’s previous novels of Chinese folklore and culture will enjoy this one, too. I actually liked it better than the others she has written because it seemed more approachable from my own cultural background. Maybe it’s more Westernized? Or maybe I’m just getting better at understanding how a story from a Chinese/Asian culture works? I’m not sure. At any rate, with the live-action movie version of Mulan already streaming on Disney+, this book should get some traction and should please a number of young readers.