The Last (Endling #1) by Katherine Applegate

Oct3

Byx is the youngest and most vulnerable member of the dairne pack in a world where dairnes are about to become extinct. There aren’t many of these dog-like but intelligent and communicating creatures left in the world, and Byx doesn’t know whether to believe the legends and rumor that other dairne packs exist in the far off north or not. When Byx loses her own family, she goes on a journey to find the other dairnes, the ones who will keep her from being the endling, the last of her kind. Will she find them, and will the humans and other creatures that have joined her on her quest be her new family or will they betray her to the evil dictator, Murdano, who wants to destroy the dairnes and any other creatures who will not obey him.

This book has a lot of newly coined words and newly imagined creatures: dairnes, wobbyks, raptidons, felivets, and others. It reminded me of the Warriors and Bravelands series of books by Erin Hunter and of The Guardians of Ga’hoole books by Kathryn Lasky. Anthropomorphized animals or animal-like characters and a quest to save the world or the species or both make for good plots to hang a story upon. And The Last is a good story.

I did face the never-ending frustration as I was reading of realizing that I was about twenty pages from the end of the book, and the loose ends were numerous and the miles to go on the quest that forms the impetus for the plot were barely begun. So, this story wasn’t going to end neatly or even at all. That said, the ending wasn’t too bad; no one was hanging from the edge of a cliff, literal or figurative, at the close of this first volume.

The tone was rather dark. Extinction looms for the dairnes and for other species. Humans are taking over the world and running roughshod over the other governing species. In fact, humans are portrayed as greedy and power-drunk and traitorous liars, most of the time. The dairnes, on the other hand, never lie and always know when others are not telling the truth, a useful and rather dangerous skill in a world where a murderous dictator is trying to consolidate his reign over the other species. But this devotion to the truth doesn’t keep Byx from telling herself that since she may be the endling, perhaps her death would be better than living in a world where she is the only dairne left.

I feel as if this series can only improve as it moves into future volumes, but of course, that remains to be seen. Could this series be another Animorphs?

Amazon Affiliate. If you click on a book cover here to go to Amazon and buy something, I receive a very small percentage of the purchase price.
This book may be nominated for a Cybils Award, but the views expressed here are strictly my own and do not reflect or determine the judging panel’s opinions.

The Language of Spells by Garret Weyr

Oct2

A dragon first spends fifty plus years trapped as an enchanted teapot. Then, as World War II is ending, the dragon, Grisha, is freed from his teapot spell entrapment, and he follows the rest of the dragons to Vienna where he is again trapped in a dead-end job at a castle and not allowed to leave the city. When Grisha meets Maggie at the Blaue Bar, the two of them embark up on a quest to free the dragons who have been put to sleep and imprisoned in an underground space. Maggie and her father, Alexander the poet, are two of the very few people who can truly see Grisha and the other un-imprisoned dragons, except that the tourists can see Grisha, too, and ask him questions in his day-job as a tour guide at the castle.

I found this one to be really odd. I kept wanting to read it as allegory, in the way that C.S. Lewis insisted his Narnia books were NOT allegorical, but I couldn’t make anything fit. Maybe it’s just my way of reading. Is it a book about the Holocaust? No, although there are elements that evoke a persecuted and misunderstood minority. About the industrial revolution and modernity and its effect on faith and whimsy and beauty? Maybe, kinda sorta. About Communism and it’s effect on Eastern Europe? Not really. It’s set mostly in an alternate history fantasy Vienna. It’s not really any of those things, just odd, and contemplative and a little slow. But I wasn’t sure what I was supposed to contemplate or think about.

And the rules of the story or the world in which it was set kept shifting in a disconcerting way. The cats are evil. No, not really evil. Well, maybe. Most people can’t see the dragons, but the tourists can see and talk to the dragons who work as caretakers and tour guides at old castles. Magic requires a price. So, it’s kind of cruel. But we want to go back and live in a magical world anyway. Nostalgic longing for the days of magic abounds. Memories are malleable and fragile. Memories are the most important part of who we are. I guess it did make me think, but I’m still not sure what I think about the book as a whole. (I did find the couple of times that Maggie’s father uses God’s name in vain to be disconcerting, annoying, unnecessary and perhaps out of character.)

It’s a decent book, but I’m not sure who would like it enough to stick with it. Amazon says it’s about “the transformative power of friendship”, and I did like the friendship between Maggie and Grisha. However, that wasn’t enough to really pull me into the story and make me believe in magical Viennese dragons.

Louisiana’s Way Home by Kate DiCamillo

Oct1

From the ARC I read in early June:

“Now, for the first time ever, Kate DiCamillo is returning to the world of a previous novel to tell us more about a character who her fans already know and love. Louisiana’s Way Home picks up two years after the events of National Book Award Finalist Raymie NIghtingale to unravel the story of Raymie’s friend and beloved ranchero, Louisiana Elefante. . . . Readers will also love the opportunity to spend more time with Louisiana as she uncovers difficult truths about her past—and makes choices that will determine her future.”

To be honest, I didn’t actually care for Raymie Nightingale that much; I found it a little too cute. And this one is chockfull of precious and cute, too. But, contrary reader that I am, I loved it, especially the voice and personality of Louisiana Elefante, who finds herself taken against her will from her Florida home and friends, headed for Georgia with her unstable, cursed Granny. And things only get worse as Granny becomes more and more undependable, and Louisiana must fend for herself—even as she finds that her entire past history and identity have been based on a lie.

There is truth here about making good choices and finding a way to forgive the unforgivable. Louisiana is poorly taught, but adorable nonetheless. There are instances of stealing, lying, and other bad behavior that go uncorrected, for the most part, but that lack of correction felt true to the story. And author Kate DiCamillo stays true to the voice and thought life of her narrator, Louisiana, even when those thoughts are uncomfortable for readers, and especially when adult characters (by extension, readers) are being judged for their lack of compassion and kindness.

Of course, some of the adults in the story are good guys. As Louisiana says, “There is goodness in many hearts. In most hearts.” In Louisiana’s story, several people show up to help out: the pastor of the Good Shepherd Lutheran Church, a mother and baker named Betty Allen, three generations of Burke Allens, and others. Nevertheless, it is Louisiana herself who must decide who she is and how she is going to handle the dissolution of her past history and the abandonment that has happened to her both in the past and in the present.

The book deals with some hard things, “terrible things,” according to Pastor Obertask. But the abandonment, lies and neglect that Louisiana experiences are tempered by the kindness of strangers and met by Louisiana’s own strength and gumption. While Louisiana’s problems are not minimized, they are met with hope, and some righteous anger. Author Kate DiCamillo, out of her vast experience of writing for children, strikes just the right balance in tone between wretchedness and optimism, leaving plenty of room for faith in Louisiana’s future.

Wizardmatch by Lauren Magaziner

Sep17

We all have such different senses of humor. What to me is just silly may be laugh out loud funny to you. What is witty and fun for me may be boring to another person. So, when I say that humor in Wizardmatch just didn’t tickle my funny bone, that’s not to say that it won’t poke yours or that it shouldn’t. A chocolate pudding swimming pool, a boy whose magical talent is burping out birds, a wizard grandfather who is a spoiled brat—these just weren’t very humorous to me. But you—or your kids– may find them to be hilarious.

“Mortimer de Pomporromp—the oldest, most powerful, most celebrated wizard in his entire family—had the sniffles.”

Now, that’s a promising first line. I liked the name, Mortimer de Pomporromp. I liked that Mortimer’s granddaughter Lennie, the actual protagonist of the book, was half-Filipina. I liked Mortimer’s sensible assistant, Estella. I liked the persnickety cat, Fluffles aka Sir Fluffington the Fourth. I liked the eventual emphasis on forgiveness and family unity and teamwork.

I didn’t care for the constant sparring and fighting that went on between all of the characters in the book. I just didn’t like any of them very much. I didn’t like the snot/barf/gross motif that wove its way throughout the story either, although I realize that repetitive emphasis on bodily functions wasn’t written in for my benefit. Authors think middle graders in particular love that kind of stuff, and they write down to them, IMHO.

Then, there were some things in the book that just didn’t make sense. Lennie thinks her grandfather may be favoring her brother Michael over her partly because she’s a girl but also because she’s part Filipina. However, Poppop Pomporromp does favor Michael, who’s also half Filipino. When the villain of the story is trapped in a supposedly inescapable sticky trap, it turns out that it is escapable after all. And all of the adults in the story are horrendously bad at being mature adults; they’re more childishly competitive and bickering than the children. (Maybe that’s not so unrealistic as I wish it were.)

Final word: I didn’t care for it. You may like it better than I did. It depends on your sense of humor.

Spindrift and the Orchid by Emma Trevayne

Sep14

spindrift: “(more rarely spoondrift)usually refers to spray, particularly to the spray blown from cresting waves during a gale. This spray, which “drifts” in the direction of the gale, is one of the characteristics of a wind speed of 8 Beaufort and higher at sea.” (Wikipedia)

Called Spindrift because she was rescued from the sea after a shipwreck that killed both of her parents, the girl who lives with her grandfather in the apartment above his shop of magical curiosities has only one keepsake from her childhood. Spindrift has a clear glass ball that has always only been a plaything, a reminder that someone cared enough to set her adrift, wrap her in a blanket, and place the glass bauble beside her in the boat. Now, though, things are starting to change. A mysterious man is looking for a black orchid. Spindrift’s grandfather has begun to share with her the letters that her mother sent to him long ago. And the glass orb has become something more, something powerful, something magical.

Maybe you should quit here if you’re going to read the book because the rest of this post may include spoilers. Is it a spoiler to say that I was reminded of Gollum and the One Ring as I read about Spindrift and her black orchid? I liked the friendship between Spindrift and her two besties, Clemence and Max. I liked the loving relationship between Spindrift and her grandfather. The plot was logical and made sense, but it wasn’t completely predictable. And I especially liked the ending.

I read a book, The House of Months and Years, by Emma Trevayne last year, and I wasn’t too impressed. This one is much better, and I plan to recommend it to LOTR fans, N.D. Wilson fans, and others who like magical quest stories.

Outlaws of Time: The Last of the Lost Boys by N.D. Wilson

Sep12

Outlaws of Time: The Legend of Sam Miracle, Book 1
Outlaws of Time: The Song of Glory and Ghost, Book 2

I wrote of the first two books in this series that they were confusing, violent, headache-inducing, and fascinating. I want to like Mr. Wilson’s series about a boy named Sam Miracle and his sidekick(?) or maybe companion(?) or maybe better half, Glory Hallelujah. I want to understand or even just appreciate the books. But I just can’t keep up. And I can’t decide if that’s my fault as a reader or Mr. Wilson’s failing as a writer.

This third book is about the fall and rise of the son of Sam Miracle and Glory Hallelujah, Alexander Miracle. I think. Or maybe it’s about a Korean American girl named Rhonda who learns to be brave and walk through darkness. Or maybe it’s about how Sam and Glory sacrifice themselves to save their son.

The thing is N.D. Wilson writes delicious prose. His sentences are at times mesmerizing. Examples:

“Darkness wasn’t possible with smooth blankets of snow on every horizontal surface, and jagged rime frost armoring every pole and wire and fence post. Light, any light, bounced and bounced and lived on in such a white winter, but it also arrived in stillness, with none of the traffic and chatter of day.”

“And when she and Sam were deep in that oily and foul nothingness, she even sang. And while it helped Sam’s memory when an unbroken song straddled two different times, he knew that Glory didn’t just sing for him. She threw her voice through that outer darkness as a call to the ones she had loved and lost, and she hoped they would hear it, and know her voice, and be stirred.”

“It was like a magic beanstalk of flame. How high could it reach? Where was the ceiling in this place? Would it walk away like a tornado or would it sit here growling until there was no more oily air to burn? And how long would that be? He could see tendrils of darkness being swept up in the cyclone, slithering across the stone floor and groping through the air like his own hands had been only moments ago. The spinning inferno slurped it all in as it grew.”

See, the man can write. He’s definitely got the word picture thing going.

But . . . I have time travel whiplash. And Death keeps happening in these books, but it gets undone, or something. People go back in time and die over and over again, but they manage to change the timeline. And they don’t die or they don’t stay dead? So. what use is it to try to kill the villains in the piece if nobody really stays dead? On the other hand, it seems as if some of the villains are really, truly dead and gone. Have I mentioned that I’m confused?

If you’re going to read these books, and if anything I’ve written about them intrigues you and even piques your curiosity, I’d recommend that you read them in order: The Legend of Sam Miracle, The Song of Glory and Ghost, and then this one, The Last of the Lost Boys. I don’t know if this book is the last in the series, or if there will be another book in which Sam’s and Glory’s son, Alexander, learns to travel through time and “wield power without rage.” But the ending does leave the latter possibility wide open.

The Inventors at No. 8 by A.M. Morgen

Sep10

George, the Third Lord of Devonshire and the unluckiest boy in London, has a number of problems. Everyone who comes near him seems to die or at least suffer some sort of tragedy. He’s an orphan with no family left. He has sold almost everything he owns, but he’s about to lose his home anyway. His last heirloom, a map that’s supposed to reveal the hiding place of a treasure called the Star of Victory, is stolen. And his only friend and caretaker, his manservant Frobisher, has disappeared, presumably kidnapped.

Then, George meets Ada Byron, his neighbor across the street, and life gets even more interesting—and dangerous. Ada introduces George to Oscar, whose father is a long-absent pirate, and to Ruthie, the orangutan who is Oscar’s friend, and the four of them set out to find the map, the Star of Victory, and Frobisher. Will George’s notoriously bad luck jinx the entire quest? Is Ada really able to fly—and land—her own self-invented flying machine? Are Oscar and Ruthie a help or a hindrance in the mission to find the Star of Victory? Where and what is the Star of Victory, and can it help them rescue Frobisher? And is Ada like her estranged father Lord Byron, “mad, bad, and dangerous to know”?

At the end of this rather extravagantly nonsensical story, the author quotes Ada Byron Lovelace herself, who was a real person, really the inventive and talented daughter of Lord Byron, the poet. From a letter to Ada Byron’s mother:

“P.S. I put as much nonsense as I possibly can in my letter to you because I think it compensates you for the grave dry subjects of your letters, but I suspect the truth is it gives me pleasure to write nonsense.”

I suspect it gave Ms. Morgen much pleasure to write this fantastical adventure story, and it gave me some pleasure to read it. I did have trouble following the logic of the story, but that may be due to the lack of logic in some parts. The children, as children and adults are wont to do, often make assumptions and jump to conclusions that are unwarranted. If you are looking for a Poirot-type logical and sensible mystery story, this adventure isn’t it. But it is a romp. And the characterization is lovely:

George, the 3rd Lord of Devonshire, is a Puddleglum, pessimistic, superstitious, wary of Ada’s flights of fancy, and untrusting (with reason). But he works himself up to bravery in spite of his fears, and he begins to believe in impossible adventures by the end of the book.

Ada Byron is the Pied Piper, luring George into adventure, danger, and belief in the impossible. She is inventive, intelligent, and confident, everything that George isn’t and doesn’t believe he can possibly become. In the author’s note, Ms. Morgen tells us that twelve year old Ada Byron really did dream of building a flying machine, but it never quite got off the ground.

Oscar is bit less well-developed as a character, but he does add “character” to the ensemble, especially when he talks to Ruthie the orangutan using semaphore sign language.

Anyway, for the enjoyment of this particular fantasy, you will need to suspend disbelief and judgment and maybe logic and just go with the flow. Not a bad way to spend an afternoon.

The Splintered Light by Ginger Johnson

Sep4

Giving thought to how the world, the universe, we live in was created with so many varied elements of sound, light, taste, smell, invention, and shape is not a bad exercise in gratitude and appreciation for the vibrancy and diversity of our world. Ginger Johnson’s The Splintered Light leads the reader on a journey of pondering the immense creativity and inventiveness of a God who could create this world ex nihilo, out of nothing. And yet it’s a story, not a sermon, as Ishmael, the protagonist of this story, learns more about the Commons, a place where the different halls (schools) of Color, Sound, Gustation, Manufactory, Scent, Shape and Motion work together to create posticums, worlds for the colonization of their creators.

“Posticum means ‘back door.’ It’s a room for creation that opens up in the stone wall of the Commons. Back home is a posticum, too, but you’d never know it. Color Master told me it was one of the first. All the oldest posticums are worn out and run-down and only have oval sheep and round chickens. The sheep and chickens in the newer posticums are more refined. Plus, they have all kinds of other creatures as well. That’s how you know the age of posticums.”

Ishmael only left home to find his brother Luc and bring him back to help Mam and the family on the farm, but when he does find Luc in the Commons, Luc is unwilling to leave. And Ishmael himself is fascinated by the new sights and possibilities he glimpses in the many halls and schools of the Commons. The Hall of Hue, where Luc lives and works, also welcomes Ishmael as an apprentice of exceptional promise, but Ishmael is determined to return home and to bring Luc with him, after just one more day, and then another, and then another . . .

It’s hardly an insult to say of this debut novel that when I reached the end I was disappointed that there wasn’t more. I really would like to know what happened to Ishmael and his friends after the posticum closed and the stones rested. Maybe I should use my own creativity and imagine it for myself.

At any rate, I’m looking forward to whatever might come next from this talented new writer, and I really like the fact that she sprinkles lines from one of my favorite poems throughout this book about the diverse and variegated world(s) in which we live and breathe and move and have our being:

Pied Beauty by Gerard Manly Hopkins

Glory be to God for dappled things –
For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow;
For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim;
Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings;
Landscape plotted and pieced – fold, fallow, and plough;
And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim.

All things counter, original, spare, strange;
Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?)
With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim;
He fathers-forth whose beauty is past change:
Praise him.

And this TED talk that I saw the other day seems to serendipitously belong alongside The Splintered Light:

Oh, today is the official publication date for The Splintered Light.

Hardscrabble by Sandra Dallas

Aug11

Hardscrabble takes place in 1910 in Colorado, and it would be an excellent book for Colorado/New Mexico/Kansas children to read when they are learning about their state’s history. This story of a family who leave their home in Iowa to prove up a homestead in Colorado has a Little House on the Prairie feel to it, but it’s about dry land farming and the “hardscrabble” of making a home in the barren but beautiful western prairie.

The Martin family move to Mingo, Colorado after losing their farm in Iowa. Since the only thing that twelve year old Belle’s father know how to do is farm, their options are limited. Belle’s mother wants her to get an education, and Belle’s sister, Carrie, is determined to finish her education and become a teacher someday. Belle herself isn’t much interested in school, but she does like to tell, write, and listen to stories. In the book, Belle tells the story of what happened to her large family as they came to Colorado and tried to tame the land and make a go of farming.

For those who are sensitive to such things, there are themes of death and courtship in the book. Both are handled tastefully but honestly. Death was a reality on the frontier, and there were not so many ways to avoid and paper over the subject as there are nowadays. Remarriage and the difficulty of finding a mate in a sparsely settled territory were also real issues. I especially liked the idea of a single woman homesteader who is a major character in the book. I hope this really happened as much as the book indicates that it did.

The Penderwicks at Last by Jeanne Birdsall

Jul5

This final installment in the Penderwick saga ends with a wedding, another wedding, and a hint at future wedding possibilities. The Penderwick clan gather back where it all started at Arundell from far and wide, Skye flying in from California, the others driving in from closer points east, west, north, and south. Jeffery is coming from Germany to manage the music for the wedding, and Cagney and his wife live on the premises at Arundell as caretakers. So all the old crew is back for this last hoorah—as well as some new characters.

Ten year old Lydia Penderwick, in the Penderwick tradition of the first four books about this family, is both innocent and precocious at the same time. Lydia, who loves to dance and who almost likes everybody she meets (with only a few exceptions), is a joy and a delight as she dances through the chaos of wedding preparations and a new friendship with Cagney’s daughter, Alice. The girls encounter spiders, ghosts, and the fearsome Mrs. Tifton—all with the same courage and adventurous spirit that made the other Penderwick children so much fun to read about in the other books in the series.

I must say that there were a couple of jarring notes to the whole book, which is mostly a paean to love and marriage and and family and friendship. Lydia’s friend, Alice, has a brother who spends most of the book in Canada, visiting relatives. Alice, however, is jealous of her brother’s trip to Canada and spends a great deal of time texting him competitive photos and challenges as to who is having the best summer vacation. I guess it’s realistic, but not as much fun as the feisty but good-natured family teasing and joking and encouraging that goes on between the Penderwick siblings. Then, Skye’s and Jane’s attitudes about marriage are aired, and I just wanted to tell them to grow up. Skye insists that “marriage is an outmoded social contract,” but her actions seem to belie her words. And Jane says she’s too busy becoming a novelist to think about marriage or boyfriends, as if one precludes the other. It all feels so twenty-first century and so-so feminist and liberated and pretentious. In a book that’s celebrating marriage, it’s out of place.

However, those are minor false notes in a book that’s mostly a lovely finale to the Penderwick symphony. If you haven’t read the first four books in the series, I would suggest that you begin at the beginning. You’ll appreciate it more that way. And if you enjoy the first book, do read through to the end of The Penderwicks at Last.

The other Penderwick books:
The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy
The Penderwicks on Gardam Street
The Penderwicks at Point Mouette
The Penderwicks in Spring

Semicolon

Books we must have though we lack bread.

Archives