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Showing posts with label Printz Award Challenge. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Printz Award Challenge. Show all posts
Wednesday, March 17, 2010
Printz Contender Like Good, Old-Fasioned Comfort Food: Warm and Satisfying
(Image from Barnes & Noble)
Virginia's read about stuff like this. It happens sometimes - a nurse accidentally hands the wrong newborn to the wrong couple. Obviously, this is what happened to her. How else could a short, plump blonde like her have ended up in a family full of tall, thin brunettes? Clearly, she was switched at birth.
Welcome to the world of Virginia Shreves, the 15-year-old narrator of The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things by Carolyn Mackler. In a family of beautiful overachievers who are dedicated to looking like beautiful overachievers, Virginia's a bit of a misfit. She's not super skinny like her older sister; she's not popular like her older brother; she's not a golf-toting club member like her father and she's certainly nothing like her gym-rat-child-psychologist mother. She's smart enough, sure, but she's also boyfriendless and lonely now that her only friend's been whisked off to Oregon by her vagabond parents. With no social life to speak of, she's been spending her time surfing the Web and downing Doritos, neither of which help with her biggest problem - her weight. Viriginia's not grossly obese, but she's chubby enough to get picked last for any kind of team in P.E. She's "heavy" enough that her calorie-conscious mother has to remind her about it every single day. Virginia's getting the message loud and clear: she is the fleshy blight on what is otherwise a perfect family.
Then, one night, the phone rings. And changes everything. The caller delivers horrifying, unimaginable news. While the rest of the Shreves are busy hiding the unsightly accusation behind their blemishless facades, Virginia's imploding. Facing the ugly truth about her flawless family means confronting the cold, hard facts about herself. As terrifying as the process is, it might just be the one thing that can free Virginia to be the only person she really needs to be - herself.
Virginia Shreves is one of those characters that girls recognize instantly. With all of her doubts, her self-loathing, and the tremendous pressure she puts on herself to look a certain way, she's an EveryGirl who will jiggle her way into the hearts of all girls, whether they're a size 2 or 20. She's the perfect antiheroine - funny, but self-deprecating; sweet, but sarcastic; sympathetic, but not pathetic; smart, but often clueless. Her story resounds not because it's terribly unique, but because her voice makes it so. While The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things didn't completely blow me away like other Printz Award contenders, it's still an appealing read. In fact, it's a lot like good, old-fashioned comfort food (something Virginia would no doubt appreciate): warm and satisfying.
(Readalikes: Reminded me of The Girl With the Mermaid Hair by Delia Ephron)
Grade: B
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language, sexual innuendo/making out/sexual references
To the FTC, with love: Another library fine find
Thursday, February 04, 2010
The First Part Last Unique, Tender, Touching
If there's anything girls need more in their lives than a devoted father, I don't know what it is. How do I know this? Because I have one. As do my girls. There's just something about the bond between fathers and their daughters. Something unique. Something special.My youngest daughter will grow up not knowing her birth father, but she'll know her real father. The one who snuggles her close, tickles her belly, and tells her every day how smart and beautiful she is. The one who looks nothing like her, who had no part in creating her sweet little features, but who adores every inch of her. Maybe someday she'll meet the man who helped give her life, maybe not. Regardless, she'll always have her dad - the man who's endowing her with confidence, joy and happiness. The man who just can't get enough of his bright-eyed, brown-skinned, curly-haired baby girl.
Why do fathers, especially black fathers, get such a bad rap? You've no doubt heard of The Absent Black Father - it's a cliche, but a prevalent one. I definitely know guys who seem to be doing everything they possibly can to uphold the stereotype, but I also know there are hundreds of thousands of good, supportive, present black dads out there. So, when a book like Angela Johnson's The First Part Last comes along (actually, it came along back in 2003), I get excited. Smashing through stereotypes in an honest, realistic, even touching way is a good thing. In this case, a very, very good thing.
Bobby's a typical teenaged city boy - he likes nothing better than hanging out at the arcade, scarfing down a slice at Mineo's, and playing hoops with his friends. On the day he turns 16, his girlfriend's announcement changes everything: She's pregnant. Bobby's not stupid - he knows about birth control, knows only a fool gets stuck like this. Yet, there it is. Nia's a basket case, vacillating between anger, guilt and shame. Bobby doesn't know what to do. He only knows that he will do right by his girl, and by his unborn baby.
The story alternates between Now and Then. In the Then, Bobby's a scared, confused boy who doesn't know how to deal with Nia's pregnancy. In the Now, he's a single dad juggling bottles, diapers, homework, and well-baby visits. He hardly knows who he is anymore. Saddled with the weight of responsibility, he misses his carefree childhood. He misses himself. The fact is, he's terrified:
This little thing with the perfect face and hands doing nothing but counting on me. And me wanting nothing else but to run crying into my own mom's room and have her do the whole thing.
It's not going to happen, and my heart aches as I straighten out her hands and trace the delicate lines. Then kiss them. Her hands are translucent and warm. Baby hands. Warm, sweet-smelling baby hands. And all I can d
o is kiss them and pull her closer so she won't see my face and how scared I am (15).All Bobby knows is that when he looks at baby Feather, his insides turn to warm honey. He can't give her up, he can't let her down. Despite all the exhaustion, all the worry, all the mistakes, he knows only one thing:
Afterward I always kiss her, my baby, and look into her clear eyes that know everything about me, and want me to be her daddy anyway (81).
Johnson does a whole lot of things in this book to create a uniquely powerful story. First, she tells a familiar tale from a new perspective. Then, she deals with the issue honestly - she doesn't glamorize teenage parenthood for a second, but she allows that a young black father just might be able to do it with some success. She doesn't preach - both abortion and adoption come up in the story - she simply shows the consequences of choices made. Most importantly, she paints a very realistic portrait of teenage parenthood without sentimentalizing. Except when she does. Johnson's tactic is brilliant, perfectly reflecting what every parent goes through when dealing with the reality of a screaming, pooping, barfing baby. The reality's not pretty, but then the baby smiles, and suddenly, it's worth every second.
I've watched my husband cradle both of my daughters in his big hands. I've seen him press their soft faces into his strong chest. That father/daughter bond - so precious, so tender - is why I sniffed through all 131 pages of The First Part Last. It moved me in a way few books have. Whether you are - like me - an avowed daddy's girl or a father who adores his girls or a woman who just needs to believe it's possible, this book is for you.
Note: I didn't realize this when I picked up The First Part Last, but it's actually a prequel to Johnson's Coretta Scott King Award-winning novel, Heaven (which I'm putting on hold at my library now).
Grade: A
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language and mature themes/situations
To the FTC, with love: Another library
finefind.
Grade: A
If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for language and mature themes/situations
To the FTC, with love: Another library
Saturday, October 17, 2009
A Northern Light: Historical Fiction That Has It All
(Image from Barnes & Noble)
Drudgery [druhj-uh-ree] - noun, plural -er-ies. Menial, distasteful, dull, or hard work. Synonyms: backbreaker, chore, daily grind, elbow grease, gruntwork, labor, menial labor, rat race, slavery, struggle, sweat, toil, travail, workout. (from dictionary.com and thesaurus.com)
For a girl like Mattie Gokey, who thrills in the discovery of new words and ideas, life cannot get much crueler. With her mother fresh in the grave, she's stuck looking after her grieving father, three rambunctious little sisters, and her family's deteriorating farm. Between cooking, cleaning, milking, tending the crops, and caring for the children, Mattie's got little time for studying. It's 1906 and she's 16, well beyond the age most girls leave school. Still, she's determined. She will finish school, go to college in New York and become a writer. It's the only way to escape the drudgery that rules her life. There's just one problem: She swore to her dying mother that she would take care of the family. Pursuing her dream means breaking that promise, while keeping her vow guarantees a future of hard work and crop talk with her unsophisticated husband-to-be.
Even with her acceptance letter to Barnard College in hand, Mattie knows it's not to be. Her father can't farm 60 acres by himself. Her biggest supporters - her best friend, Weaver, and her teacher, Miss Wilcox - encourage her to go to New York despite her family's protests. Instead, Mattie gets a job at the Glenmore Hotel, a nearby resort catering to wealthy tourists. It's here that a packet of letters is thrust into Mattie's hand by a distressed young woman by the name of Grace Brown. Although Grace insists that she must burn the notes, Mattie forgets about them. Days later, Grace's body is pulled from Big Moose Lake - her fiancee, with whom she went rowing, is missing. As if she doesn't have enough on her mind already, Mattie now has to figure out what to do with Grace's letters. The whole situation is suspicious - should she turn the correspondence over to the police? Reading them seems a breach of privacy, but Mattie can't help herself. As she delves into the young woman's thoughts and dreams, Mattie ponders her own. Is she, like Grace, willing to give up everything she's ever wanted for a man who doesn't appreciate her? Is she destined to live a life of obscurity because she's not brave enough to take a chance? Will duty keep her from living the life she really wants? And then there's the question to which everyone wants an answer: Who killed Grace Brown?
A Northern Light by Jennifer Donnelly tells the parallel stories of Mattie Gokey and Grace Brown, although it's really the former's tale. Mattie's the kind of narrator who's easy to identify with - she's sympathetic, believable, engaging and, most charmingly, word hungry. The reader feels her longing, her desperation, her desire for something beyond the dreary confines of her world. Her voice is so compelling that it makes her story burst into vivid life. And what a story it is. Filled with family drama, mystery, romance and humor, it's one of those historical novels that just has it all. Both entertaining and evocative, A Northern Light is not to be missed.
**
While there are plenty of deep, contemplative passages in the book, as well as fun bookish lines the following are neither. They're a little risque, but so funny that I couldn't help myself:
"I knew a lot of words - a lot more than Belinda, who giggled all the time and said things like "swell" and "chum" and "hopelessly dead broke" - but not the right ones. I kept my eyes on the furrows for a while, but that got to be boring, so I stared at Royal's backside. I had never really noticed a man's backside before. Pa didn't have one. It was as flat as a cracker. Momma would tease him about it and he'd tell her the lumber bosses worked it off him. I thought Royal's was very nice. Round and proud like two loaves of soda bread. He turned around just then and I blushed. I wondered what Jane Eyre would have done, then realized Jane was English and proper and wouldn't have gone around eyeing Rochester's backside to begin with" (53).
**
"[Momma]'d sat me down at the kitchen table ... and told me that I was a grown woman now, not a girl anymore, and that a woman's virtue was the greatest treasure she possessed and that I must never, ever give mine to any man but the one I married.
'Do you understand me, Mattie?' she'd said.
I thought I did, but I wasn't sure. I knew what virtue means - goodness, purity, and excellence - because it had once been my word of the day. But I didn't think men wanted to get ahold of those things because Fran told me all they want to get ahold of is your bosoms" (301).
**
Grade:
A
If this were a movie, it would be rated:
PG-13 for some sexual content
Monday, May 12, 2008
Brilliant Speak Has Lots to Say
For a book about silence, Laurie Halse Anderson's Speak has a lot to say. It's the story of Melinda Sordino, a teenager who begins high school with "seven new notebooks, a skirt I hate, and a stomachache" (3). The last comes from her anxiety over facing the friends she betrayed when she called the police and broke up an upperclassmen's summer party. Now, she's Public Enemy #1. Friendless, she's reduced to slinking through the halls, hoping to float under the radar of bigger fish in the 
treachorous pond that is her high school.Melinda hears whispers from the other students - she's a weirdo, a freak, a nark - but no one understands what really happened the night of the party. No one knows the horrible truth. Melinda wants to tell, but her throat turns to cotton every time she tries. So, she clamps up, speaking only when absolutely necessary. But, the secret she hides tears Melinda up inside. When she sees her former best friend at risk, she knows it's time to choke out the truth, but will her confession be enough to save her friend? Will anyone believe her? Most importantly, will speaking up be enough to save her from self-destruction?
The plot of Speak is deceptively simple. It's only when you peel back its many layers, that you see the complexity of this novel. Masterful use of symbolism, metaphor and language in general imbue it with power and meaning. Still, the most finely crafted element in the novel is, without a doubt, Melinda herself. Her voice rings with authenticity, even as it drips with sarcasm and disappointment. She's surprisingly real, someone who is alternately funny, awkward, scared and confused. Melinda Sordino's inner dialogue will make you laugh, seethe, grit your teeth and pray for this brave girl to find the courage to Speak.
To prove how engrossing Melinda's voice is, I offer you some of my favorite passages from the book:
Older students are allowed to roam until the bell, but ninth-graders are herded into the auditorium. We fall into clans: Jocks, Country Clubbers, Idiot Savants, Cheerleaders, Human Waste, Eurotrash, Future Fascists of America, Big Hair Chix, the Marthas, Suffering Artists, Thespians, Goths, Shredders. I am clanless. I wasted the last weeks of August watching cartoons. I didn't go to the mall, the lake, or the pool, or answer the phone. I have entered high school with the wrong hair, the wrong clothes, the wrong attitude. And I don't have anyone to sit with.
I am Outcast. (4)
My parents didn't raise me to be religious. The closest we came to worship is the Trinity of Visa, Mastercard and American Express. (29)
The first essay this semester was a dud: "Why America is Great" in five hundred words. She gave us three weeks. Only Tiffany Wilson turned it in on time. But the assignment was not a complete failure - Hairwoman runs the drama club and she recruitedseveral new members based on their performances as to why they needed an extension. (84)
See what I mean? Melinda Sordino is irresistible in all of her bitter, angst-ridden glory. Her story lacks warm fuzzies, but it is ultimately hopeful. I guarantee it will mesmerize you from its first word to its last.
Grade: A
Saturday, May 10, 2008
The House of Scorpion Stings With Power
(Image from Wikipedia.org)Whenever I read, I take notes. For a mystery/thriller, I will maybe use one page of my small yellow legal pad. Literary fiction, classics and non-fiction usually garner 2-3 pages. The fact that I jotted down 4 pages of notes while reading Nancy Farmer's The House of the Scorpion tells you just how much this young adult novel preyed on my mind. As I peeled back each of its many subtle layers, I found more and more to ponder. Don't worry, action fans, it's not as cerebral as I make it sound. In fact, it's one of those books that has it all - action, mystery, adventure, and even a little romance.
The hero of the tale goes by the name of Matteo Alacran. When the story opens, 6-year-old Matt is living in an isolated cottage in the middle of a vast poppy field. His caretaker, Celia, works at the "Big House," home of the legendary drug lord who owns all the fields, which supply the opium he exports all over the world. Although Matt has lived on the estate all his life, he has never ventured beyond the cottage's front door. Celia warns him to stay safely inside, "hidden in the nest like a good little mouse" (5), but he can't help being curious about the outside world. When a trio of children come traipsing through the fields, Matt can't help himself. He has never seen other children, and he longs to play with them. Escaping from the cottage requires him to smash a window and leap to the ground; in the process, he slices his legs, prompting the other children to drag him to the Big House. Foggy from pain, Matt hovers on the edge of consciousness as a team of maids rush to extract glass from his wounds. When they discover the tattoo on his foot, proclaiming him "Property of the Alacran Estate," the servants recoil in horror. Despite his injuries, Matt is whisked away and dumped roughly outside.As Matt lies abandoned on the ground, he learns the truth of his existence from the children who discovered him. They say he is a clone, created in a lab for El Patron. Cloning happens regularly in the futuristic world of the Alacrans, but clones' brains are always destroyed at birth. Matt is the exception. Elderly El Patron wanted Matt raised as a real boy, but insisted his existence remain a secret. The children view him as a freak of nature, except for Maria, who sides with any suffering creature. The Alacrans' servants know better than to dismiss anything of El Patron's, but they refuse to acknowledge Matt's humanity, locking him up in a filthy room where he sleeps on sawdust and plays with cockroaches and chicken bones. When Maria, who visits the estate only on vacation, learns of Matt's deplorable situation, she runs straight to Celia, who rats out the other servants to El Patron. Outraged, the old man esconces Matt in a luxurious apartment, where he receives care from Celia. El Patron also appoints Tam Lin, a Scottish outlaw, to guard Matt against the rest of the household, who view him as a filthy animal.
Once Matt learns the truth about himself, he starts to see all of the ugliness around him. He finds that the numerous field workers are really eejits - people who have had computer chips inserted into their brains to keep them docile enough to perform long hours of back-breaking labor. Matt's horrified to discover this "mindless army of slaves" (171), who will starve themselves unless told to eat. Likewise, Matt sees that many of the Big House's occupants have become just as dazed by consuming opium and alcohol. His most startling discovery, however, concerns himself, and the true reason El Patron protects him so savagely.
As Matt struggles to come to terms with the cruel world he inhabits, he must also come to terms with himself. Is he really an animal like everyone says he is? Or is the truth more in line with Tam Lin's belief that "No one can tell the difference between a clone and a human. That's because there isn't any difference. The idea of clones being inferior is a filthy lie" (245). Or is it the way someone is treated that truly makes them an animal? Who is more human, after all - the boy who "nailed frogs to the lawn so they could be devoured by herons" (213) or the one who confesses to a crime he doesn't commit so he can save the girl he loves from feeling more pain than she has to?
When Matt finally sees the Alarcans as the scorpions they truly are, he knows it is up to him to save the land and the people he loves from their violent rule. He embarks on a brave journey that will take him through the dangerous borderlands, into hells of all sorts, and back into the treachorous Alacran estate where he must make a final stand against the very people who gave him life.
A quick synopsis simply doesn't do justice to this chilling, multi-layered novel. On one level, it's a straightforward sci fi mystery/thriller; at its heart, however, it's a haunting reminder of what happens when one group of people tramples another. El Patron's hateful treatment of the eejits recalls both American slavery and Hitler's annihilation of Jews during WWII. The House of Scorpions decries intolerance and demands individual courage as well as freedom over mind-numbing substances. It's a powerful book that will chill you to the bone and haunt you long after you've finished it. Despite its hopeful conclusion, the book remains a troubling testament to the great inhumanity of which man is capable.
The House of Scorpions deserves every award it has received. It's masterful, complex, and powerful. The characters ring true, the plot races along, the ending satisfies - in short, it's an excellent book. Personally, I prefer warmer, fuzzier stories, but this one deserves top marks despite its bleakness.
Grade: A
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