Atlanta, Georgia, feels as foreign as the moon for Upper East Side native Ruth Robb.  At first, the 16-year-old can't help comparing everything about her new home to New York City, where her family was complete and happy.  Living in her grandparents' guesthouse in the sweltering South sans her beloved father, whose sudden death has left her numb with grief, will never feel right.  Still, Ruth finds that she desperately wants to fit in with the "pastel posse," a group of wealthy debutantes whose lives revolve around weekly etiquette lessons, shopping for the perfect tea dress, and vying for the honor of being crowned Magnolia Queen.  Ruth's mother and older sister eschew such frivolous frippery; is it so wrong that Ruth longs for that life with every beat of her shallow little heart?

It's 1958 and one thing stands in the way of Ruth "passing" as a member of this exclusive club—she's Jewish.  Keeping her secret under wraps becomes more and more difficult as Ruth's eyes are slowly opened to the ugliness that lurks beneath the pastel posse's genteel veneer, a snake in the magnolia bushes that mirrors the tension simmering all over the South.  With increasing demonstrations of discrimination, hate, and violence against Negroes, Jews, and other minorities happening all around her, Ruth finds herself caught between two worlds.  When push comes to shove, which one will she choose?

In the Neighborhood of True by Susan Kaplan Carlton is an atmospheric, affecting YA novel that teaches some effective lessons about the dangers of conformity, the necessity of compassion, and the power of crusading for what is right.  With plenty of fascinating historical details, the setting comes to vivid life, helping the reader really feel the tension, hypocrisy, and confusion reigning in Ruth's world.  The characters are complex, the plot engaging, and the prose skilled.  I whipped through this engrossing novel in a matter of hours, eager to know what was going to happen next.  Not only is the story absorbing, but it's also relevant and thought-provoking.  I enjoyed it.

(Readalikes:  No specific titles are coming to mind.  You?)

Grade:

Marlee Nesbitt never says much. It's not that she doesn't have an opinion, it's just that she can't seem to push the words out of her mouth without tying them into a hopeless knot. So the 12-year-old stays quiet. Most people let her be and Marlee's (pretty much) fine with that. Then, Elizabeth Fullerton swishes into West Side Junior High. The new girl is confident, fearless and never afraid to express herself. She's everything Marlee's not and yet, by some crazy miracle, Liz wants to be Marlee's friend. Turns out, they can teach each other a thing or two - Marlee tutors Liz on holding her tongue while Liz helps draw Marlee out of her shell. It doesn't take them long to become bosom buddies.

When Liz disappears, Marlee gets a shock: the rumor mill says Liz was kicked out of school because she's a "colored" girl trying to "pass" as white. Which simply can't be true - Liz is as white as Marlee. It's only when Marlee ventures into the colored part of town that she confirms what everyone else is saying: Liz really does come from a black family. Even though she looks white, she's not. Meaning Liz can't attend a white school. Meaning Liz and Marlee can no longer hang out together. Meaning Marlee's about to lose the best friend she's ever had.

The 1958-59 school year is a tense one in Little Rock, Arkansas. All high schools in the city - white and colored - are closed to prevent integration. Despite Brown v. the Board of Education. Despite the courageous actions of the Little Rock Nine. Despite the well-intentioned protests of WEC and STOP campaigns. The result is a city rife with anger, emotion and fear, a city where supporting educational equality can be not just dangerous, but deadly.

Marlee knows all this, she just can't understand it. Why should she be kept away from a girl as nice and fun as Liz, just because of the color of her family's skin? It's not fair. And Marlee refuses to accept that "that's just the way it is." Now, the girl who never says a thing is going to take a stand. If only she can find the words. If only she can find the guts. If only she can find the voice that's been eluding her her whole life. If only.

While most books about school integration focus on the tumultuous year of 1957, the year nine brave African-American students integrated Little Rock Central High School, Kristin Levine takes a unique approach. Her novel, The Lions of Little Rock (available January 5, 2012), unfolds in 1958-59, a time known as "the lost year." While I've heard all about the Little Rock Nine, I think I've always assumed that they marched in, integrated the schools, and that was that. Well, as Levine proves in her vivid, well-researched story, that was not it at all. While the issue of school integration was batted about by voters, protestors and politicians, teenage students missed an entire year of instruction. Families were torn apart over the polarizing issue, property was damaged, people were terrorized and Little Rock became known as a hotbed of racism. Through the eyes of Marlee Nesbitt, we see it all, experience it all. Most of all, we feel it all - the injustice, the irony, the hypocrisy - through the heart of a young girl who just wants a friend. Marlee's earnestness makes her story warmhearted, meaningful and, most of all, memorable. I loved it.

(Readalikes: Jericho Walls by Kristi Collier, Flygirl by Sherri L. Smith and With the Might of Angels by Andrea Davis Pinkney)

Grade: B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for violence, mild language, and racial slurs

To the FTC, with love: I received an ARC of The Lions of Little Rock from the generous folks at Putnam (a division of Penguin). Thank you!

In With the Might of Angels, a new addition to Scholastic's excellent Dear America series, Andrea Davis Pinkney uses the made-up diary of a fictional girl to tell an honest, compelling story about one of the most important events of the Civil Rights Movement. Many of us are familiar with the story of Ruby Bridges, but Pinkney's quick to point out that hundreds of other African-American children took equally courageous steps, some singlehandedly integrating schools in their areas. Dawnie represents all of them. She's an engaging narrator - smart, spunky, and completely sympathetic. Intertwined with the book's main conflict are several subplots that lift the tension, offering lighthearted moments which allow the story to feel both realistic and hopeful. Fans of historical fiction, especially those with an interest in the Civil Rights Movement, won't want to miss this one.

Following the rules isn't Jo Clawson's forte. The 11-year-old knows how she's supposed to behave - prim and proper, as befitting her position as a preacher's daughter - but she just can't seem to mold herself into the demure Goody-to-Shoes everyone expects her to be. She'd rather look for adventures in the woods, dance to Elvis and sip vanilla Cokes at the diner than sit around and read her Bible. Moving to tiny Jericho, South Carolina, means a new start for restless Jo. She vows to fit in this time, promising her parents no more schoolyard brawls, no troublemaking and definitely no trouble-seeking. Easier said than done. Jo has a knack for getting herself into sticky situations, and this time, she may not be able to pry herself loose.

Jo's never seen a black person before, let alone hung out with one, so she's not quite sure what to make of Lucas Jefferson. He's a loudmouth, that's for certain. He's also gentle, fun, and her only real friend. So what if he lives in the colored quarters, a place she's definitely not supposed to be anywhere near? Who cares if she can't tell a soul about her newfound buddy? It's worth it, isn't it, to have a friend like Lucas?

In the 1950s South, Jo and Lucas' clandestine friendship is not just scandalous, it's dangerous - for both of them. Especially when Lucas makes the bold decision to stand up for his rights. Torn between supporting her friend and keeping her promise to stay out of trouble, Jo must question her loyalties, as well as her own sense of justice. She's practically pinky sworn not to fight, but aren't some things in life worth the battle?

While Jericho Walls by Kristi Collier tells a familiar story, it's the voice of its narrator that makes the book really stand out. You can't help but love Jo - she's vulnerable ("I decided then and there that being alone and friendless was something that sounded romantic in books, but in real life ... wasn't that great at all" [109]), but spunky enough to quote the "the wickedest verses I knew of in the whole New Testament" (156) to a roomful of church men. Gentle Lucas provides the perfect counterpoint to spirited Jo, although he's got too much of his own pluck to let a skinny little white girl get anything over on him. It's natural to root for this pair, to want their easy friendship to endure despite all the odds stacked against it. Although stories about the Civil Rights Movement are rarely warm and fuzzy, Jericho Walls manages to be both heartwarming and true. I adore it.

(Readalikes: a little like To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee)

Grade: B+

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for mature themes (racism, interracial marriage, etc.)

To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find