Claverage Middle School might as well be Mars for 13-year-old Capricorn Anderson. Raised on an isolated farming commune, he's wholly unprepared for the noise, the bullying, the chaos that defines junior high. But with Rain, his grandmother and guardian, in the hospital, Cap really doesn't have a choice - it's either Claverage (dubbed "C Average" by the student body) or a group home. He'll take Claverage, even if it embodies everything that's wrong with the "money-hungry rat race of modern society" (4) from which Rain has tried so hard to shield him.

Schooled by Gordon Korman tells the story of tie-dye wearing, peace-loving Cap, as he navigates his way through the alien world of C Average. His hippie clothes, scraggly hair, and complete innocence (When a teacher accuses him of being a regular Jerry Seinfeld, he replies in all seriousness, "You must have me confused with another student. My name is Capricorn Anderson." [19]) make him the perfect target for some good, old-fashioned bullying. Because he's never experienced meanness in his life, Cap can't understand why he keeps finding spitballs in his hair, why kids direct him to classrooms that don't exist, or why he's suddenly been elected eighth grade class president.

For Zach Powers, the most popular boy in 8th Grade, Capricorn Anderson provides the perfect opportunity to prove exactly who's boss at C Average Middle School. As the Big Kahuna on Campus, it's his right to find the biggest nerd around, electing him class president, and watch him stumble through the job like an idiot. Cap's too perfect - when Zach informs him that the class president has to hold press conferences in the geography lab, the hippie kid searches the school for the fictional classroom. When Zach tells him the president has to know the name of every kid in school, Cap memorizes the yearbook. Cap's utterly guileless, and it's irking Zach to no end. It's just no fun picking on a kid who has no idea he's being picked on. The worst part is, some of his posse actually feel sorry for Cap - weirdly enough, the oddest kid ever to walk C Average's halls, is quickly becoming Zach's biggest rival.

Capricorn Anderson hardly realizes there is such a thing as a middle school hierarchy, let alone his changing place in it. All he wants is to get back to the commune, where he can breathe fresh air, harvest his fruit, and live in perfect harmony with nature and the one person who really understands him, his grandma. Zach wants nothing more than to grant him his wish. What happens when the Kahuna and the hippie kid collide? Well, Bob Dylan's immortal words describe it pretty well: The Times They Are A'Changin'. With Capricorn Anderson in the house, C Average will never be the same again.

Fresh and funny, Schooled provides a unique take on the familiar subject of identity. Capricorn Anderson - a boy who's too pure to be anything but authentic - shows readers exactly what it means to be true to oneself. Never preachy, the story's simply different, fun, and entertaining - with a message that comes across loud and clear. I adored it.

Grade: A

If this were a movie, it would be rated: PG for some junior high-type humor (nothing really crass, just a lot of talk about wedgies and such).

Generations of Beth Hayes' family grew up on the shores of Sullivan's Island, South Carolina. Their rambling old beach house - Island Gamble - has seen all their tragedies, triumphs and downright disasters. As much as Beth loves the old house, it's really her mother's refuge, not hers. So, when she's asked to housesit for a year while her mother flits off to Paris, she grumbles. A lot. Not only has she just graduated from Boston College, but Beth's got plans to attend the Iowa Writer's Workshop. Now, the family's asking her to put her life on hold to babysit their crumbling house of horrors. True, there are worse places to write than the beach. But, still ...
In Dorothea Benton Frank's Return to Sullivan's Island, Beth Hayes does just that - returns to the island where she's spent countless days roaming the dunes, searching for crabs, and watching the tide roll in from the Gamble's back porch. With the relatives pursuing their various dreams in faraway locales like France and California, Beth has the place to herself. Well, kinda. She has Lola, her miniature Yorkshire - plus all the cranky dead Hamiltons who just can't seem to pass peacefully to the other side. Beth's not about to put up with all their antics - slamming doors, creaking floors, creepy turn down service - but the spirits aren't necessarily cooperating with this uppity new generation.

With characteristic (inherited?) aplomb, Beth sets about making a life for herself on the island. Her job search yields opportunities for friendship, even career advancement. It also leads her into the arms of handsome Max Mitchell, a developer who's determined to introduce Sullivans Island to the modern age. Sure, he's a little distracted, but it's not long before Beth's imagining what their kids would look like. Her new friend, Cecily, who also happens to be the granddaughter of Livvie Singleton (The Hayes' beloved Gullah maid), cautions Beth against falling too hard. But, it's too little too late. Soon, she's got so much going on even she can hardly keep things straight - with two jobs to work, a man to keep, and a family of haints to appease, her hands are full to overflowing. Then there's her family - her cousin's drinking heavily; her Aunt Allison seems to have gone off the deep end, and Aunt Sophie just doesn't sound like herself. Beth, always the responsible one, must handle it all. But, what about her own needs? When is her life ever going to begin? Is there really a place for her on Sullivan's Island?
Sullivan's Island (which I reviewed here) charmed me with its Southern magic, but its sequel just doesn't have the same juju. The new characters aren't nearly as appealing (except for Cecily, who sparkles, just like Livvie did); even those from the first book seem duller somehow. I spent a lot of the book asking, "When did Beth turn into such a brat?" It was only toward the end that she started growing on me. A little. Frank's wild swings in point of view also drove me crazy - the majority of the book comes straight from Beth, but occasionally, Frank would linger in another character's head, giving his/her POV. I hate that. Plotwise, Return to Sullivan's Island is generic and predictable, even a little boring. I still love the authenticity of the setting, with that hint of Gullah magic in the air, but it doesn't leap off the page like it did in the first book. Conclusion? I wanted more from this sequel, and it just didn't deliver. Sorry y'all, but the magic's gone 'eah.
Grade: C
If this was (were?) a movie, it would be rated: PG-13 for some language, some sexual content, some violence, and references to drug use and underrage drinking.
This review is part of Dorothea Benton Frank's virtual tour with MotherTalk. For more opinions, check out this page.

... 'cause I snagged an award. The lovely Katie over at 101 Books in 1001 Days bestowed this on me: