The Black Pearl by Scott O’Dell

Oct21

I just finished reading The Black Pearl, a Newbery Honor book published in 1967. I’m trying to decide what I think. It takes place in Mexico, Baja California, and it’s very Catholic as would be appropriate for the setting. In the story, which is something of a fairy tale about a boy and the Monster Manta Diablo, the Madonna of the Sea is a direct representative of or substitute for God Himself, which bothers my Protestant brain. But it’s a good and well written fairy tale or folk tale about the dangers of pride and hubris and the mystery of God’s (or the Madonna’s?) will and working in the world.

The protagonist, Ramon Salazar, is sixteen years old and concerned about becoming a man. The coming of age theme is huge in this story. The Black Pearl, or the Pearl of Heavens as it is also named, is something of a MacGuffin, sought, found, given away, stolen, lost again, and replaced, all over the course of 140 pages of the book. The real story is about what’s going on inside Ramon, and his father, and Ramon’s enemy, Gaspar Ruiz the Sevillano. Ramon wants to go pearl diving, something his father has never allowed him to do, and he dreams of finding the largest and most valuable pearl of all, the Pearl of Heaven. (In fact, I think the book should have been called The Pearl of Heaven instead of The Black Pearl, but they didn’t ask me.) Diving for pearls is dangerous, however, and one of the most dangerous creatures in the sea is the manta, also known as a manta ray or devilfish.

We are told that the manta, especially The Manta Diablo, is a huge monster creature that has the power to swallow up an entire ship and that it is a “creature of beauty and of evil whom only two have seen with their eyes.” Ramon tells the reader in the beginning of the story that he is one of the two who have seen The Manta Diablo.

This book reminded me of Steinbeck’s The Pearl and of The Old Man and the Sea by Ernest Hemingway. But the similarities in setting and tone are superficial, I think. It’s been a long time since I read The Pearl. I don’t know exactly what I thin of this one. I sort of liked it. It’s about how the intent of the gift matters. A sacrifice or offering given out of spite and and in an attempt to buy God’s favor is wrong. But a gift given in adoration and gratitude is accepted. That part rings true. I wouldn’t suggest it for middle grade children, but older teens might enjoy puzzling out the meaning of this tale and engaging in the adventure.

Ben’s Trumpet by Rachel Isadora

Oct20

This Caldecott Honor book has the most beautiful black and white illustrations of musicians from the jazz era and a little boy who imagines himself playing the trumpet with them. The illustrations capture the feeling of jazz music and African American jazz musicians and the city, probably New York City, where its origins lie. Rachel Isadora was a professional ballet dancer in her youth before a foot injury redirected her interests into art and illustration. I think because of that experience as a dancer she has a feel for music and for the souls of musicians. That feeling comes through in the artwork in Ben’s Trumpet.

The story is rather simple. Ben, a young Black boy in the city loves to listen to the music coming from the Zig Zag Jazz Club near his home. He especially loves the trumpet, and he imagines that he is playing his own trumpet. When the other boys make fun of him and tell him that he doesn’t have a real trumpet, Ben is embarrassed and quits playing his imaginary trumpet. But the trumpeter from the Zig Zag Jazz Club comes to the rescue and becomes Ben’s mentor.

A few of the pictures in the book didn’t bother me, but might offend some. The men in the jazz club and in Ben’s family are shown with cigarettes and alcohol and playing cards, presumably gambling. And Ben’s naked baby brother sits on the couch in one picture, full frontal nudity. But he’s a baby, and babies do sometimes run around naked.

I am told that there is an audio version of this picture book that includes musical interludes and accompaniment appropriate to the story. The audiobook would probably enhance the reading of the book, but the illustrations are not to be missed. So ideally you should purchase and read both together.

Two of my favorite pictures from the book:

All Thirteen by Christina Soontornvat

Oct10

All Thirteen: The Incredible Cave Rescue of the Thai Boys’ Soccer Team by Christian Soontornvat. A Robert F. Sibert Honor Book. An Orbis Pictus Honor Book. A Newbery Honor Book 2021.

“On the soccer fields of Mae San, Thailand, it sounds like a typical Saturday morning.”

In this 229 page somewhat over-sized book, Christina Soontornvat, an American writer with family in Thailand, tells the story of the 13 members of the Wild Boars soccer team who were trapped in the cave Tham Luang Nang Non, the Cave of the Sleeping Lady, for eighteen days while thousands of people came together from all over the world to effect their rescue. Soontornvat uses narrative, photographs, diagrams, and informational sidebar inserts to tell the story of the boys and how they survived and of the rescuers who worked to save them.

I already knew the outlines of the story of the cave rescue from watching the movie, Thirteen Lives. But reading about the cave rescue made me appreciate even more the miraculous nature of what was accomplished in rescuing these boys. Vern Unsworth, one of the many key players in the rescue, said, after the boys were safely out of the cave, “I still can’t believe it. It shouldn’t have worked. It just should not have worked.”

There is much information in the book about caves and cave exploration, about Thai culture and soccer and about Buddhism and Buddhist practice. Soontornvat is respectful and unbiased in her presentation, recognizing that there were cultural differences that hindered communication between the Thai rescuers and authorities and the outsiders, mostly, British and American, who came to help. These differences in communication style and in expertise were sometimes difficult to navigate, but also the differing approaches became strengths as the rescuers learned to work together.

All of this story is presented in narrative form and in language that is accessible to children ages eleven or twelve and up. As an adult reader, I was nevertheless fascinated and enlightened by this “children’s book.” The information boxes are thankfully kept to a minimum and contain interesting supplemental information about such subjects as hypothermia, Buddhism in Thailand, and specialized breathing equipment used by the rescuers. There are a few references to climate change (as a reason for heavy rainfall that trapped the boys in the cave) and evolution as an agent in the formation of limestone, but these are not obtrusive.

The story focuses mainly on the thirteen boys and their will to survive and it is compelling and well told. The book would be a fine supplement to studies of Southeast Asia, caves, diving and underwater rescues, Buddhism and world religions, or more specifically Thailand. Give it to kids who are interested in soccer, survival stories, or exploration stories. And I highly recommend both this book and the movie Thirteen Lives.

The Puppets of Spelhorst by Kate di Camillo

Oct9

I said in a recent review that fairy tales tend to be odd. Kate di Camillo’s newest book, The Puppets of Spelhorst is a fairy tale, and it is indeed odd. It’s the story of five puppets: a girl, a boy, a king, a wolf and an owl. The puppets become the possessions of a lonely old man who dies. Then, they go on a journey, become separated and have separate adventures, then are reunited to put on a play. The puppets seem to live in their own world or dimension where they can talk to one another, but the humans who own and play with them cannot hear them. The puppets, however, can hear and learn from the people. And it’s all very mysterious.

The king tries to be kingly and give commands, but no one responds to his commands. The boy knows that he has a destiny to do some great deed. The girl is the only who one who truly sees the sun and the moon and the stars and the whole big world. The wolf is obsessed with his own sharp teeth. And the owl speaks in wise platitudes and wishes to fly. As I said before, it’s odd.

Is it a metaphor? Are we all puppets trapped in the darkness and longing for freedom and flight and love and purpose and sight? Nah, as C.S. Lewis would say, it’s not an allegory. Is it a story about the power of stories? The puppets themselves feel and are told that they are destined to be part of a shared story. But that’s very meta for a children’s fairy tale. I don’t know. It’s just and odd and intriguing little story that will either draw you in or not.

The Puppets of Spelhorst is the first book in a projected trilogy of Norendy Tales, “each illustrated in black and white by a different virtuoso illustrator.” The illustrations in this one by Julie Morstad are rather eerie and give the impression that the book is scary or dark, but while it’s a somewhat mysterious tale, it’s not really frightening or spooky.

I was reminded of The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry or of the bittersweet fairy tales of Oscar Wilde and Hans Christian Andersen. If you like those, The Puppets of Spelhorst may be a good read for you. If not, you should probably skip it.

Mei Li by Thomas Handforth

Oct6

We keep a dog to watch the house,

A pig is useful, too,

We keep a cat to catch a mouse,

But what can we do

With a girl like you?

Translated from the Chinese by Isaac Victor Headland

This Caldecott Medal winning book begins with this Chinese nursery rhyme and a picture of Mei Li (pronounced MAY LEE) playing with her mother. Thomas Handforth, the author and illustrator, was inspired by a neighbor girl named Mei Li while he was living and working as an artist in Beijing, China. The plot is simple: Mei Li runs away with her brother San Yu to go to the New Year Fair in the city. While she is there Mei Li experiences many adventures and tries to puzzle out her role as a girl in Chinese culture. The story ends with Mei Li happy to be home, and the Kitchen God appears to tell her that she can be a princess in her own home.

I do think the vivid black and white illustrations of Chinese life and people are the best part of this book. Hence the Caldecott Award. The message of “girls are meant to keep house and rule the home” will be offensive to some. Mei Li, however, is content with her brief adventure and return home. “Mei Li sighed happily, ‘It will do for a while, anyway.'” I would at least show the book to children who are learning about China as an example of how the Chinese people lived 75 to 100 years ago. And Mei Li’s excursion to the city might actually fascinate children who are interested in China and Chinese culture.

Seven Simeons by Boris Artzybasheff

Oct5

Fairy tales and folk tales are often quite odd. Unexpected things happen. It’s not always obvious who are the good guys and who are the bad guys. The reader is left with questions. Seven Simeons, a Russian tale retold and illustrated by Boris Artzybasheff, is no exception to the weirdness rule. It’s an odd story, and if you’re looking for a moralistic fable, look elsewhere.

King Douda is rich, wise, powerful, and very good-looking. He’s also unhappy because he can’t find a “worthy maiden for a bride, a princess who would be as good-looking as himself.” So far we have Adam looking for his Eve. But when King Douda does hear of a princess who might match his exceptional beauty, it is a disappointment because she lives on an island so far away that it would take twenty years to go and fetch her and bring her back to marry King Douda.

It’s clear that only a miracle can help King Douda claim his bride. And that’s where the seven Simeons come into the story, seven peasant brothers all named Simeon who have been instructed by their father to work hard and each learn a different trade. Their “trades” are more like magical skills, similar to those of The Five Chinese Brothers (or seven in some versions), and the rest of the story is about how the seven Simeons serve King Douda and help him to gain his bride, the beautiful Helena.

The language in this tale is fairy tale/folk tale language, and the illustrations are quite Russian with peasants in blousy Russian costume and Russian boots and beautiful red and green ink prints of ships and castles and birds and fish and all sorts of wonders. The story ends, of course, with a wedding feast, but not before the seven Simeons show off their miraculous trades and abduct the princess, who promptly falls in love with the handsome King Douda. The couple ask for forgiveness from Princess Helena’s father, which is granted. “Let the fools go. I forgive them. It must have been God’s own will that my dear daughter should marry King Douda.”

If you’re still looking for a moral in all of that, it might rather lie with the seven Simeons, not with the handsome King and his bride. The seven Simeons, one of whom is a talented thief, remain hard-working peasants even when they are offered rich rewards. They only want to go back to their wheat fields, and probably they are the ones who truly live happily ever after. But this tale isn’t really meant to teach a lesson. It’s not teaching that you should name all of your sons the same name and instruct them to work hard and learn a trade. Nor is it saying that it’s acceptable for kings to kidnap their prospective brides. Or that thieves should be rewarded. It’s just an odd little Russian story with Caldecott honor winning illustrations.

Perfect by Kiri Jorgensen

Sep15

Finding the perfect snowflake could solve the perfect crime.

“Saloma Hammond is not your typical twelve year old. Sal counts her steps between classes, wears a school uniform that isn’t required, and prefers to stay locked inside her tightly controlled OCD world. But when the lure of the perfect snowflake entices her to join the Weather Club, her anti-social shell begins to crack. At the same time, dozens of phones have gone missing, and her classmates are getting suspicious. If Sal can unlock her pattern-driven mind to identify the workings of the real thief, and then set an irresistible trap at the Science Fair, she may just learn how powerful friendship can be.”

This middle grade novel about a girl with OCD who learns to make friends and analyze snowflakes and solve crimes is the first of several middle grade books released by a new small press, Chicken Scratch Books. The mission of Chicken Scratch is “to be a company whose focus is quality literature for kids.” You can read more about that mission here. Suffice it to say, the publisher has made a good start with Kiri Jorgensen’s book, Perfect.

Saloma is a great protagonist, sweet, kind, a rule-follower, and someone who lives inside her own tightly drawn boxes, but thinks outside the boxes of others. It’s fun to read about how she manages to shift and change over the course of a school semester and all because of snowflakes and the Weather Club. The book references lots of meteorological science, and my very nonscientific brain was intrigued. It made me want to go back and reread Snowflake Bentley by Jacqueline Briggs Martin, a biography of the scientist Wilson Bentley who first developed a way to photograph individual snowflakes.

Chicken Scratch Books has only been in existence for about a year, and they have already published several middle grade fiction novels. I’ve only read Perfect, but if it’s an example of the kind of work this publisher is putting out, I’m all in, so to speak. I will be reading more books from this start-up publishing company.

A Bit of Earth by Karina Riazi

Sep11

The Secret Garden, with a bit of Daphne du Maurier’s Rebecca, some neurodiversity, and Middle Eastern/Bengali culture thrown in—for middle grade readers. If that sounds like a strange mix, it is, but it works pretty well. The author is a “diversity advocate and an educator” with an “MFA in writing for children and young adults from Hamline University.” That resume doesn’t exactly appeal to my instincts for choosing a good story, but I was pleasantly surprised by how much I enjoyed the book.

There is one basic problem: the main character, Maria (pronounced MAH-ria, not ma-RI-a) is distinctly unsympathetic. Like Mary Lennox in The Secret Garden, Maria is an orphan with a bad attitude. Unlike Mary Lennox, Maria seems to have been born with, or at least believes she was born with, her grumpy, oppositional defiant personality, and she doesn’t so much change over the course of the story. Instead, Maria just persuades everyone else to accommodate her difficult and rude demeanor. She’s described as “grumpy”, “prickly”, “unpleasant” and many more such adjectives, and her words and actions certainly bear that description out.

And yet . . . I grew to rather like Maria. Maybe I’m a sucker. I’m not sure I could be as loving and forgiving and patient as the adults in the story are if I had a Maria to deal with in real life. But I wanted to be patient with this child who had lost her parents and been wounded by life in many ways. I wanted the secret garden in the story to redeem and renew first Maria, then Colin who is the second grumpy, unlikeable character in the story. And it does . . . to a certain extent.

All that to say, I had mixed feelings about A Bit of Earth. It’s an intriguing retelling of Frances Hodgson Burnett’s classic story, and Maria did worm her way into my heart despite her angry and sullen appearance (which is not reflected in the cover picture of a beautiful and pleasant-looking Maria). Nevertheless, I did want her to see that she could be more than just a grumpy old Oscar the Grouch, that she could let her guard down and be vulnerable and still survive and even thrive.

If you read A Bit of Earth, let me know what you think about the story and the characters. One mark of a good story is that it gives you ideas to think about. And this middle grade fiction story did indeed make me think.

Captain Cook Explores the South Seas by Armstrong Sperry

Sep9

Captain Cook Explores the South Seas by Armstrong Sperry. World Landmark #19.

The book’s title is a bit of a misnomer: James Cook didn’t explore just the South Seas. He went almost everywhere: starting in England, then Canada, the Arctic, the Antarctic, the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii), Tahiti, Cape Horn, the Cape of Good Hope, Alaska, Melanesia, Micronesia, New Zealand, Australia, and all points in between. He went on three voyages of exploration, and boy, did he explore. And he started out as a farmer’s son and ended up as captain of his own ship and leader of the three afore-mentioned expeditions, gaining fame and glory and all sorts of scientific information, maps, charts, botanic specimens, paintings, and other discoveries on behalf of the Royal Society and the British Admiralty.

All of the Landmark books that I have read are well written, but I think this one is one of the best in terms of excellent writing and storytelling. Cook’s adventurous life and rags to riches story lends itself to the creation of an adventure story, and Sperry’s telling of the story does not disappoint. He begins the tale as thirteen year old James Cook leaves his home to take up an apprenticeship that will bring him near the sea:

“That August morning in the year 1741, the early sun was as bright as a promise of good fortune. It cast a light of gold over the rolling moors of Yorkshire, on fat sheep grazing in the fields. It lay warm as a blessing on the shoulders of the boy who followed so eagerly an empty road that stretched forever away from Great Ayton.

Mark that boy well, Reader! For young James Cook–tall for his thirteen summers, and with all his belongings swinging in a bundle at the end of a stick–had set forth on a great adventure. Although in years to come he was to travel farther over the earth’s surface than any man before him, perhaps this first youthful journey was the most momentous of all. It set the pattern of his future.”

Armstrong Sperry, author of the Newbery award story, Call It Courage, traveled in the South Seas himself, and learned both French and Tahitian. Sperry was also a Navy veteran and interested in all things nautical, and he was a talented artist whose illustrations for this book about Captain Cook are exquisite and fully supportive of the lively narrative text. Sperry wrote two other books for the Landmark series, The Voyages of Christopher Columbus and John Paul Jones, Fighting Sailor as well as several other nautical-themed fiction books for children. I am eager to read some of his other books since the writing in this one is so very good.

A couple of content considerations: Sperry describes the “savages”, both of North America (Canada) and of the Pacific islands, in mostly unflattering terms. Cook described the islanders in particular as primitive, thieving, and unhygienic, reserving the term “handsome” for the Tahitians and the Hawaiians only. So that’s how Sperry describes them. And the life and travels of Captain James Cook do not end well. He gets into a dispute, perhaps a misunderstanding, with the king and people of the Sandwich Islands (Hawaii), and he is killed on the beach by a Hawaiian war club wielded by one of the king’s warriors.

Despite the content considerations, I highly recommend Captain Cook Explores the South Seas, maybe along with a book told more from the perspective of the native islanders. The Last Princess, The Story of Princess Ka’iulani of Hawaii by Fay Stanley is one possibility. Another Landmark about Hawaii (which I haven’t read) is Hawaii, Gem of the Pacific by Oscar Lewis.

The Ride of Her Life by Elizabeth Letts

Sep4

The Ride of Her Life: The True Story of a Woman, Her Horse, and Their Last-Chance Journey Across America by Elizabeth Letts

One of my fascinations is journey stories: Peter Jenkins’ A Walk Across America and The Walk West, Robin Graham’s The Boy Who Sailed ‘Round the World (aka Dove), Walking to Listen by Andrew Forsthoefel, Bold Spirit by Linda Lawrence Hunt, just to name a few that I’ve read and enjoyed. The Ride of Her Life is another entry in the “journey across America” genre, this time by horse.

Annie was 62 years old in 1954 when she decided to leave her Maine hometown of Minot and travel by horseback to California. She didn’t know where she was going in California; nor did she have a route picked out for getting there. She didn’t have a roadmap. She didn’t have a plan for what she would do when she got to California either. She had very little money, and her horse, a Maine trotter gelding named Tarzan, was at least as old (as horses age) as Annie herself. Annie Wilkins also had no family, no children, and no real ties to the town of Minot where she spent most of her life up until the age of 62. Her farm had just been taken from her in lieu of back taxes.

So she decided to ride Tarzan across the country to California and figured that by the time she reached the Pacific she would be almost old enough to draw from that new government program, Social Security, if she didn’t die on the way. Her Maine doctor had found a spot on her lungs that might have been cancer or tuberculosis, and he figured she had only a couple years to live. What better way to spend those years than as a tramp, which is what Annie decided to call herself, “The Last of the Saddle Tramps” or “The Tramp of Fate.”

I liked this book partly because Annie was about my age when she set out on her journey. I could never ride or walk across the country. I can barely walk around the block without stumbling or breathing hard, and I’ve never ridden a horse. But I do admire Annie’s tenacious spirit, and I would like to emulate her in some ways.

I also enjoyed all the extra information added by the author, Elizabeth Letts. Ms. Letts did a phenomenal amount of research writing this book. A lot of the book is based on Annie’s memoir, written with co-author Mina Titus Sawyer, called Last of the Saddle Tramps. However, Ms. Letts also traveled to all of the places where Annie stopped, found the newspaper articles that were written about her ride in local and national newspapers, and interviewed the few people who are still living and remember Annie coming through or staying in their neighborhoods and homes.

The book is just fascinating. Annie travelled through snow and ice and heat and desert and mountains and over rivers. And she found plenty of friendly strangers who cared for her along the way. She met Andrew Wyeth, Governor Robert Smylie of Idaho, Art Linkletter, and countless less famous folks who were all treated with the same friendly, unassuming, appreciative air by Annie, The Last of the Saddle Tramps.