Those Kids From Fawn Creek by Erin Entrada Kelly

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

“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.

The Rent Collector:Adapted for Young Readers by Camron Steve Wright

This book tells a great story, but adapting it for young readers, which is all the rage right now, was a bad call. Sang Ly lives with her husband and baby at Stung Meanchey, the largest garbage dump in all of Cambodia. Ki Lim, the husband, picks recyclables out of the garbage to make a living for the family. Sang Ly does some trash-picking, too, but mostly she takes care of baby Nisay, who is sickly and small with chronic diarrhea.

The story develops as Sang Ly becomes friends with the grumpy Rent Collector, Sopeap, and Sopeap teaches Sang Ly to read and to appreciate literature. There are some lovely moments in this story as Sopeap’s character and mysterious past are revealed and as she shares her love of literature with the illiterate Sang Ly. However, I feel as if most of those moments and insights would pass right over the head of the middle grade readers to whom this book is being marketed. Instead, they would remember the dump and the poverty and the dangers of trash-picking and the death and disease. The picture on the cover (supposed to be Sang Ly?) is misleading. There are a couple of minor characters in the book who are children, but mostly this book is about adults with adult concerns and problems. I would possibly give this book to young adults, high school and up, but it’s just not a middle grade novel.

The original adult novel was based on a true story, a film documentary called River of Victory. I wouldn’t mind watching the documentary, and I also wouldn’t mind reading the full, adult novel. The writing is good, and the story itself is inspiring. I just don’t think it should have been adapted for middle grade readers.

Anybody Here Seen Frenchie? by Leslie Connor

Eleven year old Aurora Petrequin has a best friend, Frenchie Livermore, but it’s Aurora who does all of the talking for the pair. Because of his autism, Frenchie doesn’t speak, but he communicates with Aurora with his eyes, his attention, his tweets, and other nonverbal cues. Aurora, on the other hand, is almost Frenchie’s opposite: active, loud, and impulsive. And while Frenchie loves birds, Aurora is a rock hound.

Frenchie and Aurora both find it difficult to make friends with other people, but as Aurora begins to develop friendships with other girls her age, will Frenchie get left behind? Not if Aurora can help it. Until one day Aurora does forget about Frenchie for just a minute, and Frenchie disappears. As the story progresses, the whole town turns out to help find Frenchie, a child that not many of them noticed much before he turned up missing.

Author Leslie Connor has written some vivid and memorable characters in Aurora and Frenchie. I feel as if she met her goal stated in the Author’s Note: “I was determined to get these characters right.” Aurora, with her loud voice and her habit of interrupting and blurting out her thoughts, makes the reader just the least bit uncomfortable, at least this reader. And that little bit of discomfort made me realize that loud, hyperactive children can come across as rude or out of control when they are really trying to be their best selves. Frenchie, on the other hand, because he is nonverbal, truly does seem to “disappear” from the narrative at times, only to pop up with an insight (the author shares Frenchie’s thoughts from time to time) or an action that shows him to be a person with as much to share as anyone else in this world.

I felt this book was a good one to put on the “diversity list.” It doesn’t try too hard, doesn’t make anyone a villain, and all is well in the end. Frenchie and Aurora are good examples of the diversity of gifts and abilities that are present in all of our children–and adults. And the adults in the story are present and good and all trying to help find Frenchie. Even without a villain in the story, the tension that makes a good drama is there: has anybody seen Frenchie?

Meriadoc Homeschool Library June Newsletter

It’s summertime, and whether you’re doing school or taking a break, summer in Houston is prime reading time. Read at the pool; read at the beach; read at home in air-conditioned comfort. But do stay cool and read! 

I want to share some opportunities and resources with you in this June newsletter, but some of you who are library members need to come by the library on Monday, Tuesday, or Friday to choose new books for summer reading. And some of you have yet to join or visit Meriadoc Homeschool Library, but you are cordially invited to do so this summer. If you are interested in scheduling a library visit, you are welcome to email me at sherry.pray4you@gmail.com to set up a day and time for a library tour. Come on down!

And here is a list of those resources and opportunities that I promised.

Recommended podcasts:

The Literary Life. “Where we believe that stories will save the world! Join your hosts Angelina Stanford, Cindy Rollins and Thomas Banks as they explore all aspects of a life cultivated by books and stories. Together they discuss what makes stories so powerful, how stories shape us as individuals and as a culture.” Right now they are reading and discussing The Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Grahame.

Read Aloud Revival. The latest episode, #207, of Sarah Mackenzie’s podcast on the joys of reading aloud with children is all about “how to fall back in love with reading this summer.”

The New Mason Jar. “The New Mason Jar with Cindy Rollins is a place to explore the atmosphere, discipline and life of a Charlotte Mason education for all. Our hope is that you will be inspired to enter the large room that Charlotte spread before us and find peace, hope and joy in your educational endeavors, however imperfectly.”

Stories from the Ashes. A brand new podcast (only three episodes so far) in which Ambre and Amanda discuss books and life together.

To purchase books for the summer or for the next school year:

(To borrow books, come to Meriadoc Homeschool Library, of course.) However if you want to purchase books for your own home library, my sister Judy has a great private book sale group, Seize the Book, on Facebook where you can join and find lots of quality used books at great prices. 

Local (SE Houston) events and opportunities:

Gulf Coast Christian Home Scholars Beta Club is sponsoring a 2022 Homeschool Curriculum, Classes, and Co-ops Fair. This event is restricted to vendors with used curriculum, homeschool classes, and co-ops. The event will take place at Trinity Fellowship Church on June 11, 2022 from 10 am to 2 pm. Admission is free to the public, and you can find out about co-ops, classes, and other homeschool events at the fair as well as have the opportunity to purchase used books and curriculum from other homeschooling moms.

Selah Academy for the Arts high school musical class is performing Les Miserables this Thursday, Friday, and Saturday, June 2-4, 2022 also at Trinity Fellowship in Friendswood. This is a beautiful story of redemption, and the students are doing an incredible job. Link to order tickets.

Summer class for moms:

I will be participating in this online encouragement and discipleship opportunity along with moms from around the country and the world. I did it last summer, and It is worth the cost.

Morning Time for Moms Summer Discipleship Class (Online with Cindy Rollins)

I have lots more ideas and resources to share with you in person or in future newsletters. I hope your summer is full of joy and full of good books!

The Last Mapmaker by Christina Soontornvat

Christina Soontornvat, author of Newbery Honor book A Wish in the Dark, has written another middle grade fiction novel with an imaginary world setting, and this one is also set in a place that feels southeast Asian or Asian Pacific but is in fact completely imaginary. Sai, our protagonist, is a girl from the slums who is pretending to be an educated, middle class girl with a chance at a future. However, in the Kingdom of Mangkon, future prospects depend on lineage, the number of respected and verified ancestors that one can claim, and Sai not only has no money, she also has no lineage, only a criminal for a father and a mother who disappeared when Sai was a child. Sai managed to finagle her way into becoming Assistant to Mangkon’s most celebrated mapmaker, Paiyoon Wongyai, but when she doesn’t get a “lineal” on her thirteenth birthday, everyone will know that Sai is an imposter and a usurper. Her only chance is to go with Master Paiyoon on an expedition to the south seas, discover the fabled Sunderlands where the dragons live, and come back a heroine.

Sai is a typical middle grade fantasy protagonist, a poor and challenged child with special talents, looking for a way to move up in the world. She is interesting insofar as she makes some bad choices but manages to come through in the end, and she never discovers that she is anything other than the poor child of criminal and often absent parents, although her father does have some saving character traits in the end as well. I like the idea that Sai doesn’t have to discover that she’s really a princess in disguise to become a worthy and productive member of society.

There’s also a touch of anti-colonialism in the story as Sai learns that discovering a new territory and annexing it to the kingdom of Mangkoon, sometimes means exploiting that new place and oppressing its people. And she finds a way to undermine that move toward colonial exploitation without having the story become didactic and heavy with messaging.

Christina Soontornvat is fast becoming one of my favorite contemporary authors of middle grade fantasy fiction, and I can’t wait to read more of her work. I’m especially interested in reading her other Newbery honor book, the nonfiction All Thirteen: the Incredible Cave Rescue of the Thai Boys’ Soccer Team.

Sir Gibbie by George Macdonald

I got a rotten version of this book, or else George Macdonald wrote a dud. The story is there, and it’s a good one. But the “edited” version I read was tedious and much too explanatory, over-simplified and dull. Kathryn Lindskoog, a C.S. Lewis scholar and an author herself of literary and critical works, was the editor of the book I read, in the Classics for Young Readers series, published by P & R Publishing. She also edited several other classics for this series, including  Little WomenThe Little Princess, Robinson Crusoe, Hans Brinker, and Black Beauty. If they are all written in the style that I read in her version of Sir Gibbie, I would not recommend them. And honestly, I am not sure why any of those other classics need updating or editing in the first place. They were all readable and lovely in the original for me as a child or young adult.

I do understand why Macdonald’s work is often edited to translate the Scots dialect that is prominent in many of his novels, including Sir Gibbie. I’ve only compared the version I read with the original (from Project Gutenberg) in few places, but I’m fairly sure that a lot of the dialogue, instead of being translated into modern English, is just explained. And most of the descriptive passages are simply left out or edited down to near-nothings. The back of the book says that Lindskoog “stepped up the pace of each chapter.” Also it says “this edition is a winner of the Gold Medallion Book Award in recognition of excellence in evangelical Christian literature.” Ouch! I don’t know why this rather wooden and tedious retelling won such an award, but I’m just not a fan.

According to Wikipedia, Lindskoog wrote, about her edited versions of classics:

I’m as much of a purist as you. I absolutely love these authors. That’s why I’m hand-polishing them for today’s readers and performing what I call literary liposuction – removing flab and fat. I keep every bit of the original story, the style, and the values – even restoring parts cut out in other versions. I know my work would make the author happy; otherwise, I wouldn’t do it

Sir Gibbie, a mute orphan with a heart of gold, is an engaging character, and the plot, although somewhat convoluted, is interesting and even surprising at times. But again, I just couldn’t enjoy the story as it was told in this edited version. I plan to try the original at some point. What I’ve read of George Macdonald’s writing shows him as a much better writer than this “literary liposuction” version displays.

Wayward Creatures by Dayna Lorenz

I feel a little sorry for books published in 2020 or 2021. The opportunities for publicity and recognition and even borrowing from libraries was, well, restricted, as were all things by the Big C. Dayna Lorentz’s middle grade novel about a boy and a coyote is worth a look, even when most reviewers have moved on to the new books of 2022.

Wayward Creatures is about two wayward creatures: twelve year old Gabe and a coyote named Rill. Gabe is entering seventh grade with a family distracted by economic problems and friends who spend all their time on competitive soccer and have no time for him. Gabe, trying desperately to impress his erstwhile friends, does something very stupid and destructive and ends up having to pay the consequences.

Rill, a somewhat anthropomorphized coyote, does something stupid, too. She leaves her pack–father mother, younger sisters and brothers–because she doesn’t feel appreciated. Gabe’s life and Rill’s intersect when Gabe is cleaning up the forest as a part of the restorative justice process. The book is steeped in the ideas of restorative justice, and there’s an author’s note at the end that explains what that is and how it works. Nevertheless, the ideas of animal control and habitat preservation and anger management and restorative justice, while they are a major part of the novel, never get in the way of the story, but rather become a natural part of the tale of one boy and one coyote.

I tend to still think that coyotes are mostly pests, but I’m at least willing now to give them the benefit of the doubt. And I think the ideas of restorative justice, which I first encountered in the writings of Chuck Colson, are certainly a much-needed tool that can be used to improve our criminal justice system and should be more widely implemented. That said, this book is a good story, not propaganda, and I did like the Gabe parts better than I liked the Rill the coyote parts of the book. My attitude towards coyotes may have worked itself up to tolerance: if they don’t bother me, I’ll try not to bother them.

The Court of the Stone Children by Eleanor Cameron

The New York Times said of this book, back in 1973, that it was “not just a fine book but a brilliant one—and, in an age when writers are engulfing children with an almost gratuitous realism, it is exciting to read a story that glances back into the literary shadows of memory, fantasy and dream.” In 1974, The Court of the Stone Children won the National Book Award for Young People’s Literature. Eleanor Cameron, who also wrote the Mushroom Planet books, was indeed an accomplished writer, and The Court of the Stone Children is an excellent story, appealing to both adults and children.

It’s a sort of a ghost story. Only Dominique, nicknamed Domi, the girl that Nina meets in the French Museum in San Francisco, isn’t really a ghost. It’s also sort of a time travel story, but Nina doesn’t really travel back in time, except in dreams, and Domi, a French girl of the early nineteenth century, just continues to live a semi-ghostly existence in order to stay close to the objects of her childhood home and perhaps to clear her father’s name. Domi’s father was executed as a traitor and murderer during the reign of Napoleon, and Domi needs Nina to help prove his innocence.

The French Museum that Nina falls in love with, along with museum life in general, is a key component of the story. Anyone who is fascinated with museums and how they work would love this book. And Nina’s growth from an immature and unhappy girl who was forced to move to San Francisco against her will into an understanding seeker of beauty and truth is also a part of what makes the novel shine. The way Ms. Cameron ties all these themes and storylines together—the love of beauty and the past, the search for truth, the nature of reality, the complications of making friends and loving family—all these things make for a beautiful and memorable story that children will carry with them into adulthood.

One minor issue didn’t bother me, but I’m sure it would some readers: in the past, early 1800’s, a fifteen year old girl falls in love with a thirty-five year old man, and he with her, and the two are betrothed to be married. This romantic relationship is presented as somewhat unusual, even for the times, but ultimately wholesome and good. Nothing explicit, or illicit, is described or even hinted at, and although I wouldn’t condone such a relationship nowadays, times were indeed different over two hundred years ago.

I thought The Court of the Stone Children was an excellent book, deserving of the National Book Award and worthy of its place in my library.

I Must Betray You by Ruth Sepetys

First of all, Ruth Sepetys is an excellent writer. I read three of her books, Between Shades of Grey, Out of the Easy, and Salt to the Sea, and her ability to place vivid fictional characters within an historical event and context was impressive. The first book, Between Shades of Grey, came out of Sepetys’ own Lithuanian American background and is set in Stalin’s Lithuania and Siberia. The other books, including this latest one set in Ceausescu’s Romania, show evidence of extensive historical research and an ability to create an atmosphere in reading the book that mirrors the cultural ambience of the times.

The place and time of this book are not a good place to be immersed in. In reading about a high school boy, seventeen year old Cristian Florescu, who is attempting to understand how to live in 1989 Romania, I felt a small part of what the people of Romania must have felt: claustrophobia, fear, entrapment, and suspicion. Ceausescu, his family, and his Securitate (secret police) control everything and everyone. And alongside the official apparatus, there are the civilian informers. In her Author’s Note at the end of the book Sepetys says, “It’s estimated that one in every ten citizens provided information.” All of these spies and informers generated thousands and thousands of pages of reports on the daily activities of every citizen, and each page added to “Romania’s perpetual sense of surveillance.”

This story is one that needs to be told, needs to be repeated. I see and hear people in the United States and in Europe flirting with communism, calling themselves “Marxists” or “socialists.” They think that such ideas are “just a better economic system”, that they won’t lead to tyranny or to a cult of charismatic leadership or to poverty and slavery. But everywhere—Cuba, Venezuela, Russia, Lithuania, Latvia, Vietnam, East Germany, and Romania—that’s exactly what communism has produced, has been used to produce. And the stories needs to be told again and again, both as cautionary tales and as a monument to the very real people who suffered under the horror and brutality of life in what was meant to be “just a better economic system.”

Cristian and his friend Luca and his girlfriend Liliana live through the fall of Ceausescu and his regime, but the story doesn’t really have a happy ending. Communism didn’t end in Romania until fifteen years after the death of the Ceausescu’s. And there are still many unanswered questions about what exactly happened in Romania during the rule of communism: who killed whom, and who gave the orders, and who benefitted and how it all came to be. All of the answers to these questions are perhaps buried in tons of records and files and reports, or perhaps just buried, destroyed. I Must Betray You is one attempt to illuminate through story what it felt like and what it required to live in a certain time and place, Bucharest, Romania, 1989 under the communist regime of Nicolae Ceausescu.