Adventures with Waffles by Maria Parr

Sep2

Lena is Trille’s best friend, but he’s not really sure if he is Lena’s best friend. Lena reminds me of The Cat in Miranda and The Cat; she’s independent and feisty, full of ideas, not so prone to intimate confidences and expressions of affection. Lena is also reminiscent of Pippi Longstocking; she’s a bit of a rebel. Of course, the Scandinavian setting recalls Pippi, too. (Adventures with Waffles is from a Norwegian author, while Pippi Longstocking is Swedish. But the setting is similar.)

This book is funny, and I think there is dearth of truly funny children’s books being published these days. Lots of great quests and problem novels and bathroom humor crowd the shelves, but to find a good, funny read-aloud-worthy story, you almost have to go back to Ramona Quimby or Homer Price or Sid Fleischman’s western adventure stories (By The Great Horn Spoon, The Ghost in the Noonday Sun). What all of these disparate books have in common is a sense of humor that depends on ordinary, everyday absurdities instead of shock value and silly talk.

The book also deals with sadness and loss. A favorite character in the book dies, and at a certain point in the story Trille thinks his friendship with Lena is over. Both losses are told about in a compassionate and realistic way that would help readers to identify with Trille, the protagonist, in his grief. And there’s lots of trouble as Lena’s ideas for fun and adventure are not devoid of ridiculous and even dangerous consequences. A picture of Jesus becomes a sort of talisman for remembering what has been lost in terms of family and friendship and for renewing the relationships that remain.

I have been told by more than one friend that Ms. Parr’s other middle grade fiction book, Astrid the Unstoppable is even better than Adventures with Waffles. So, I plan to check that one out as soon as possible. In the meantime, I recommend Adventures with Waffles to fans of Ramona Quimby and Pippi Longstocking and Anne of Green Gables and other spirited and slightly wacky fictional girl characters.

Miranda and the Cat by Linell Smith

Sep1

Once there was a Cat. He was not a fat cat. He was not the lap-sitting kind of cat. He was a thin cat; so thin that you could count his bones. This Cat was marked with the scars of many battles. He lived in a turned-over box behind a garbage can in the alley of a big city. In fact, he was an alley cat. And proud of it.

Miranda and the Cat is the simple story of a girl who finds and befriends a cat, an independent, feisty, alley cat. The Cat is never named in the book, perhaps because The Cat doesn’t ever belong to Miranda or anyone else. No one has the right to name him or contain him. He’s The Cat.

Nevertheless, Miranda and The Cat do become friends, friends with boundaries, but friends who love and care for each other in times of need. Miranda and the Cat is just a lovely 44 page story of how two of God’s creatures can be friends–with both respect and love.

Linell Nash Smith, the author of this little story, was the daughter of poet Ogden Nash. Linell actually illustrated a couple of picture books of Ogden Nash’s poems. But for this book there is a separate illustrator. The illustrator, Peggy (Margaret Frances) Bacon, did such a good job of capturing the personality and moxie of The Cat. I’m glad someone decided have her illustrate the story. I’m going to be pushing this little book at all of the cat lovers who come to my library from now on.

Camel Express by Olive Burt

Aug23

Camel Express: A Story of the Jeff Davis Experiment by Olive Burt is one of the many books in the Winston Adventure series, “a series of tales based on the little-known incidents and nearly forgotten lives of unsung heroes that helped shape history.” Several of the characters in the book were actual people who were key figures in the so-called camel experiment.

Our main protagonist is Obed Green, sixteen years old, newly arrived in Texas at Matagorda Bay from a voyage on the U.S. Navy ship Supply to Turkey and North Africa in search of camels to purchase for the U.S. government’s use on the frontier. Obed goes as assistant to the ship’s veterinarian, Albert Ray, and on the way back Obed learns from the Syrian camel driver, Haj Ali (called Hi Jolly by all the Americans), how to care for camels, and even how to love and appreciate the ungainly and temperamental animals.

Yes, in 1855, Congress appropriated $30,000 to carry out a scheme of Secretary of War, Jefferson Davis, to purchase camels for use in the American desert. There’s a foreword in the book where Ms. Burt tells readers the history of Jeff Davis’ camel experiment, but let it suffice to say, the importation of camels to frontier forts was not a raging success. And then came the Civil War, and the camels were mostly lost or forgotten.

And that’s why, in one of my favorite children’s books from last year, we get a story-telling camel living in the wild in West Texas. Once Upon a Camel by Kathi Appelt is a fantastical story with anthropomorphized animals, and Camel Express is a western adventure story, so the two are very different in tone and genre. Nevertheless, I feel as if the two books would make a good pair, read together, and discussion would ensue. Just the idea of camels roaming the country of my birth, West Texas and parts west, makes me smile. If you read either or both books, let me know your smile quotient.

Alone on a Wide Wide Sea by Michael Morpurgo

Aug19

This middle grade or young adult novel, by the author of War Horse and Private Peaceful and many other excellent titles, takes place in Australia—and on the ocean. Part 1 of the book is The Story of Arthur Hobhouse, a British orphan who at the tender age of six years old is sent to Australia to live with foster parents in an orphanage in Cooper’s Station. Arthur’s story has its ups and downs, some of it quite harrowing. There’s child abuse, and outback survival, and the sad death of one of the main characters, which is why maybe the book is more for older teens and adults. But it’s a good and ultimately hopeful story, and I liked the fact that almost none of the characters in the book is all good or all bad. They are a mixture for the most part (except for the main villain with an appropriate name, Piggy Bacon).

Part 2 is The Voyage of the Kitty Four, the story of how Arthur’s daughter Allie takes the boat her father built for her and sails from Australia to England, alone. It’s an ocean adventure, reminiscent of one of my favorite true life adventure stories, The Boy Who Sailed ‘Round the World Alone (aka Dove) by Robin Graham. Allie’s story also has ups and downs, not just on waves, but also in her emotional state as she faces the dangers of sea by herself and learns to rely on her own resources.

There’s some hostility to religion and Christianity in the book since Arthur’s first experiences of “Christianity” are horrifying and anything but Christlike. There’s also a bit of superstition—because if you can’t rely on God then you might tend to look for signs and wonders, right? But these things all made the book more rich and understandable for me. People do have bad experiences with abusive, religious people, and sometimes an albatross could be a sign of God’s love and protection. Allie and Arthur both have a deep love for Colerige’s The Rime of the Ancient Mariner, so that’s a thread throughout both stories.

Good book by a very good author. I’ve enjoyed all of the books by Michael Morpurgo that I’ve read.

Out of Range by Heidi Lang

Jul26

3 sisters: Abby, Emma, and Ollie McBee.

A months-long feud, trading pranks, insults, and put-downs, culminates in the girls being sent to Camp Unplugged. Their parents hope that some time together, away from internet, cell phones, and other distractions, will help the sisters to re-unite and forgive each other. But it’s not working. Abby, the oldest sister, has found a new friend at camp, and Emma and Ollie feel just as angry and left out as they did at home. So the malicious pranks–a frog in the tent, honey in the sleeping bag, and more–continue, and the girls’ camp counselor, Dana, is just as exasperated with them as their parents were.

So, Dana takes the girls on an all day disciplinary hike up a nearby mountain, and then when the three sisters are separated from Dana, they get lost and and injured. And they have to outrun a fire and navigate a raging river. And they meet a bear, and there may be a mountain lion stalking them. Can the sisters learn to work together, forgive each other, and survive?

The author shows the tangled relationships between these three sisters, their fears and their hopes and their growing pains, so well, as they trade insults and yet come to realize how much they really care for each other and need each other. It’s not an immediate or complete change that happens just because the sisters are in crisis mode. Abby is still the somewhat bossy and superior older sister, twelve years old and responsible but not sure she’s up to the responsibility. Emma is still the middle sister, ten, caught between Abby and Ollie, afraid of strong words, somewhat anxious, and longing for everything to go back to the way it was before the sisters broke up into “sides”—The Youngers against Abby. Ollie is still the baby (who isn’t really a baby any more), stubborn, impulsive, and slow to apologize. There are layers of personality and relationship and sisterhood here that are revealed a little at a time, like peeling an onion, as the three sisters come to know each other and themselves so much more deeply.

I liked this book a lot. The sisters have been rather cruel to each other, but they eventually, and realistically, find a way to forgive each other and move forward. I’m going to be recommending this books to sisters and to brothers, all siblings, who are forging their own sibling relationships, probably in less challenging circumstances than those the McBees face. I always told my kids when they were growing up that friends come and go, but family, sisters and brothers, are forever. Those sibling relationships are an important training ground for life, and sometimes they have to be mended–because we all say and do things to hurt each other.

Good book.

Hana Hsu and the Ghost Crab Nation by Sylvia Liu

Jul18

Hana Hsu can’t wait to be meshed: her brain tied into the multiweb by means of a neural implant that will enable her to communicate with everyone, thought to thought, brain to brain. AND she will be able to choose one of three areas of giftedness to be enhanced: intelligence, sensory powers, or physical strength. However, there are, of course, problems. Hana can’t get meshed for another year, not until she’s thirteen. And Hana feels she is losing touch with the rest of her family, especially her older sister and her Ma, both of whom are already meshed. Then, there’s Hana’s grandmother, Popo, who’s beginning to lose her memory. The only way Hana can see to help Popo and regain her family’s closeness and bond is to get meshed as soon as possible.

Enter the Ghost Crab Nation, a loosely organized group of underground protestors who are trying to, well, Hana’s not sure what their aims are or whether or not she can trust Ink, the girl she met in the junkyard, or Wayman, the old man who wants her to spy on her Start-Up program to see if something nefarious and dangerous is going on. But the Start-Up program is Hana’s way to get herself meshed early, maybe if she does well in as little as three months at the end of the summer. Should Hana trust the leaders of her Start-Up? Should she trust Wayman and Ink? Is there a downside to getting meshed? The entire book is a mystery inside a science fiction dystopian fantasy, and the world building is well done.

Other pluses:

  • Hana is a great character, concerned for her family, ambitious, and curious. She does some rather dangerous things, but all in a good cause.
  • The theme of asking questions about what our reliance on the internet and our interconnectedness is doing to us as individuals and as a culture is certainly relevant, but it’s not a didactic or propagandistic novel. The idea are presented by means of story and on a middle grade level.
  • The action is well paced, and the plot is believable within the confines of the world the author has created.

But . . . a couple of caveats:

  • When meshed (or maybe enmeshed) people meet they get a feed in their brains that tells them some basic stats about the other person, name, age, education, family status, and pronouns? Really, pronouns, like he/him, she/her. Luckily, no weird pronouns appear.
  • One of the characters, Ink, is a girl in the real world, but he’s a boy inside this virtual reality video game that everyone uses not only to play but also to communicate and move around and share information. That wouldn’t really be a problem, a girl choosing a male avatar in a game, except that it’s made very clear that Ink could choose to be male in the real world, too, if he/she wanted to. At least I think it’s clear, although nothing about this whole gender confusion era that we’re in right now is really very clear.

Were it not for the caveats, I would recommend Hana Hsu as a great story and a vehicle for exploring ideas related to the internet and social media and its effect on young, developing brains. It’s also got ideas and questions about family and how you maintain family bonds and how you fight injustice and solve social problems and how much is too much to give up in order to serve the community. But there is already enough gender confusion in this world as it is without adding to the mix. I enjoyed it, but I’m not recommending.

The Diamond in the Window by Jane Langton

Jul14

Edward and Eleanor, brother and sister, live in a big old house in Concord, Massachusetts, with their Aunt Lily, a piano teacher, and their uncle Freddy, an addled literary scholar who deeply admires the Transcendentalists, especially “Waldo” Emerson and Henry Thoreau. The problem is a financial one: the bank is about to repossess and raze their home. This impending disaster sets Edward and Eleanor on a quest to find the hidden jewels and treasures that their long lost Uncle Ned And Aunt Nora may have received from an Indian prince, Krishna, and may have left behind when they disappeared as children. Clues in the form of a poem etched into an attic window guide Eddy and Eleanor to enter into dangerous adventures in the form of dreams that really happen, all to find enough treasure to save their home.

This book reminded me of Edward Eager’s books, Half Magic and others, and of Elizabeth Enright’s The Saturdays and Spiderweb for Two. The adventures of Eddy and Eleanor are both real and dreamlike, and the dreams are dreams with a meaning where the two children participate in a joint-dream but learn life lessons along the way. The dreams and the adventures are all intertwined with the writings and lives of Thoreau and Emerson and Louisa May Alcott as well as Oliver Wendell Holmes and James Russell Lowell in a way that is child-friendly and yet speaks on a different level to adults, too.

For example, in one chapter’s dream Eleanor and Eddy travel through a mirror, like Alice in Through the Looking Glass, and find themselves confronted with a long series of reflections of themselves stretching out to the left and to the right. The children must choose again and again which reflection to follow, and as they follow the sometimes more desirable but wrong path their choices narrow and narrow until the only reflection they can choose is a horrible, degraded and degenerate version of themselves. However, when they go back and choose the right path the land of reflections behind the mirror opens up into a multitude of wonderful choices of who each child could become.

Instead of two choices, there were many. They were unable to choose which was the best, so they picked one at random. And beyond that choice lay a hundred, and beyond the next a thousand. Just as the other maze had led them down a narrowing path until there was no choice left, this one opened out into wide and shining worlds of possibility.

And that scene in its turn reminds me of C.S. Lewis and The Great Divorce and Narnia and “further up and further in.” There’s another dream or vision that the children have at Christmas time of all of the light-bearers of history, from ancient times up through the present day, and one of them is Jesus, perhaps the brightest but only one of a multitude of greater and lesser “lights” who add to the accumulated light of the centuries. It’s not exactly right, but it’s close.

Anyway, I loved this book, and I’m pleased to see that there is are sequels, in fact eight books in all about the Hall family of Concord, Massachusetts, one of which is the Newbery Honor book The Fledgling. I’ve actually read The Fledgling a very long time ago, but all I remember is something about flying and perhaps geese? Anyway, The Diamond in the Window is the first book in the series (Hall Family Chronicles), and the second book, which I hope to read soon, is called The Swing in the Summerhouse. The other books are:

  • The Astonishing Stereoscope
  • The Fledgling
  • The Fragile Flag
  • The Time Bike
  • The Mysterious CIrcus
  • The Dragon Tree

I actually have The Fledgling and The Time Bike in my library. I purchased The Diamond in the Window from Purple House Press, so I have that, too. But it looks as if the others in the series are out of print, so I’ll have to find them used or from the public library if I want to continue reading about the Hall Family and their escapades.

De and No: A Poem by Sherry Early

Jul7
After we have
      debunked
      deconstructed
      degraded
      demythologized
      destroyed
What then?
What is left?
How then shall we live?
Will it indeed be a brave new world?

No, boundaries, no definitions,
No constraints, no constants,
No men, no women,
No logic, no dialectic
      No. . . a world of no.

Those Kids From Fawn Creek by Erin Entrada Kelly

Jun20

Fawn Creek, LA is a very small town–so small that the school has only 12 kids in the seventh grade class, and those kids have known each other pretty much all their lives. So, when a new kid comes to town, and she’s mysterious and stylish, with the name “Orchid”, everyone is immediately paying attention. Orchid Mason comes to Fawn Creek direct from Paris, or maybe New York City, and she has the most interesting stories to tell. And Orchid wants to be friends with Grayson and Dorothy, who feel like the misfits in Fawn Creek’s seventh class and in their own families.

This book was decently written, but it left a bad taste in my brain. The author, who grew up in Louisiana, seemed to have an axe to grind about small towns and small town life. The kids all call their little town “Yawn Creek”, and Grayson is ostracized and ridiculed because he is more interested in style, clothing, and fabric than he is in going hunting. Grayson’s own brother calls him “little sister” and worse names. Grayson’s father denigrates him and doesn’t understand him, even though the dad does sort of come through in a good scene towards the end of the book. Grayson’s best friend, Dorothy, is an only child who feels invisible, and her parents are uncommunicative and just odd. In fact, none of the parents in the book are very kind or helpful or in touch with their children’s needs or concerns, except maybe Grayson’s mom who grows some as a character.

I guess the gist of the story is that small towns are ugly and full of bullies and weird religious fanatics. There’s a group of three seventh graders who call themselves the “God Squad”, so poorly characterized that I never could remember which girl was which. There are also a couple of “mean girls” and some jock boys. It was all rather dingy and unpleasant, and I was glad to close the book and escape from Fawn Creek. If I lived in a small town, like Fawn Creek, I wouldn’t choose this book to help me see the good aspects of community. But it might make me even more anxious to get out.

The Patron Thief of Bread by Lindsay Eagar

Jun17

“Fished from the river as an infant and raised by a roving band of street urchins who call themselves the Crowns, eight-year-old Duck keeps her head down and he mouth shut. It’s a rollicking life, always thieving, always on the run—until the ragtag Crowns infiltrate an abandoned cathedral in the the city of Odierne and decide to set down roots.”

Now the leader of the Crowns, the fearless Gnat, wants Duck to apprentice with the local baker, Master Griselde, and use her position of trust to steal both bread and coin for the Crowns. As Griselde becomes a friend and a mentor, even getting a tutor to teach Duck to read, the choices become more and more difficult for Duck. Will she remain loyal to the Crowns, the only family she’s ever known, or will she become someone new, a respectable and honest apprentice baker? Can she start a new life, or will the old one pull her back into the gang?

I really enjoyed this story and felt as if it had a lot say about loyalty and forgiveness and the possibility of change. However, in some chapters that alternate with the ones that tell Duck’s story, the voice and narrative are that of a frustrated gargoyle who lives on the roof of the unfinished cathedral, unable to fulfill his destiny of being a rescuer and a protector. The stories do intertwine and come together in the end, but I never cared or wanted to read about the gargoyles. And I don’t think I can put the book in my library, even though it’s a good story, because the chapters told from the viewpoint of the gargoyles portray them as profane and prone to insults and salacious gossip. Also the gargoyles are just ugly, mean, and sad. I wish Ms. Eagar had left out the gargoyle chapters.I sort of get what she was going for–a parallel story of identity and redemption–but it just didn’t work.

Lindsay Eagar also wrote Race to the Bottom of the Sea, which I added to my list of 50 Best Middle Grade Novels of the Twenty-first Century. She’s a good writer, but The Patron Thief of Bread could have done without the gargoyles or with better gargoyles or something.