Karla and her brother Jamie are spending a summer at their late uncle's cottage in Maine, and Karla can't cope with all the death around her. Her brother's problems are more immediate: an abusive and bullying father who sees his son as a complete failure. Mom sits on the sidelines and tries to cheer everyone up. This being a middle school book, no one is going to go through serious emotional trauma but there is a fair amount of self-discovery and tears.
This story had tremendous potential to become something hard hitting, but Mills steps back at each point that things get heavy. And even the fairly dramatic climax comes out of nowhere and departs pretty much without having changed much in the lives of its characters. It makes for an OK read, but one wishes that Mills had put more teeth into the story.
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
Monday, May 30, 2005
Changing Tunes, by Donna Jo Napoli
I had picked up this book because I had had another book by Napoli (Sirena) recommended to me and the synopsis of this one actually looked more interesting.
Changing Tunes is about a ten year old girl named Eileen who has to deal with her parent's divorce. An only child, Eileen doesn't have a lot of sources of comfort: she can't bring herself to tell her best friend Stephanie that it's even happened, every time she brings up the subject with her parents, they tell her to "accept it," and her piano has been taken away by her father. Throughout the story, piano playing is a constant theme that Napoli comes back to to explain Eileen's feelings and discoveries.
The story is a bit jumpy and the narrative tends to drift -- partially a result of having too much going on (a subplot about babysitting really doesn't add much to the story) and partly because this is a middle-school book, designed with shorter chapters and for shorter attention spans. Napoli has some of the lyrical poetic quality of Seven Kisses in a Row, but there's a lot going on here and it is a bit distracting.
Changing Tunes is about a ten year old girl named Eileen who has to deal with her parent's divorce. An only child, Eileen doesn't have a lot of sources of comfort: she can't bring herself to tell her best friend Stephanie that it's even happened, every time she brings up the subject with her parents, they tell her to "accept it," and her piano has been taken away by her father. Throughout the story, piano playing is a constant theme that Napoli comes back to to explain Eileen's feelings and discoveries.
The story is a bit jumpy and the narrative tends to drift -- partially a result of having too much going on (a subplot about babysitting really doesn't add much to the story) and partly because this is a middle-school book, designed with shorter chapters and for shorter attention spans. Napoli has some of the lyrical poetic quality of Seven Kisses in a Row, but there's a lot going on here and it is a bit distracting.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
Alice On Her Way, by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor
The Alice series was one of the first YA books I read when I started my adult rediscovery of children's books....
The charming part of the series is that Naylor takes us very slowly through the life of a young woman growing up in Bethesda, giving us the continuity of her experiences and friends, and doing so at only a few months at a time. Counting the prequels, we've watched Alice grow from 8 to 16, and this is simply the latest continuation of her life.
In Alice On Her Way, Alice McKinley takes a school trip to NYC, falls in love with Sam and then decides to break up with him, goes through a church-sponsored sex education class, and gets her driver's license. There's some realizations of her new life with a step mother and watching her older brother grow a more independent life.
When I first started reading the books, they seems so amazingly revealing and revolutionary, but I really didn't know much about the genre. Now that I've read more, they are not nearly as appealing anymore. Naylor, like Judy Blume, has a big mission to talk about sex as much as she can. And while teens are interested in the subject, Naylor really has a crusade on -- one which even her protagonist seems to find a bit over the top! And while Naylor has her story up to date (with the girls IM'ing each other, for example), there's a certain flat innocence to the story. In Alice's world, there are no metal detectors in schools and no drugs. There is sex, of course, but it has an innocence to it, that belies reality even in a posh suburb like Bethesda. Again, YA lit has gotten grittier and it is hard to imagine teens reading these books. Maybe for the pre-teen market, Alice would still be fun.
The charming part of the series is that Naylor takes us very slowly through the life of a young woman growing up in Bethesda, giving us the continuity of her experiences and friends, and doing so at only a few months at a time. Counting the prequels, we've watched Alice grow from 8 to 16, and this is simply the latest continuation of her life.
In Alice On Her Way, Alice McKinley takes a school trip to NYC, falls in love with Sam and then decides to break up with him, goes through a church-sponsored sex education class, and gets her driver's license. There's some realizations of her new life with a step mother and watching her older brother grow a more independent life.
When I first started reading the books, they seems so amazingly revealing and revolutionary, but I really didn't know much about the genre. Now that I've read more, they are not nearly as appealing anymore. Naylor, like Judy Blume, has a big mission to talk about sex as much as she can. And while teens are interested in the subject, Naylor really has a crusade on -- one which even her protagonist seems to find a bit over the top! And while Naylor has her story up to date (with the girls IM'ing each other, for example), there's a certain flat innocence to the story. In Alice's world, there are no metal detectors in schools and no drugs. There is sex, of course, but it has an innocence to it, that belies reality even in a posh suburb like Bethesda. Again, YA lit has gotten grittier and it is hard to imagine teens reading these books. Maybe for the pre-teen market, Alice would still be fun.
Wednesday, May 25, 2005
Faultline, by Janet Tashjian
Having enjoyed Multiple Choice, I looked up other tashjian books and found this one about dating violence. It's hard to read the book without comparing it to Sarah Dessen's Dreamland (one of my all-time favorite books).
Becky Martin is a high school senior in San Francisco, working on a budding career in stand up comedy, when she meets Kip, a very talented young comic with issues. Before she knows it, she's swept away into a torrid relationship with him that becomes emotionally abusive and eventually physically abusive as well. But Becky is no passive victim and she has the strength to break off the relationship as it goes bad, until she finds out that she isn't as strong as she thought she was.
The story is a powerful one of course, but I wish that Tashjian had kept the focus more on Becky's feelings and emotional state (which is basically how Dessen treated the story) and less time on the side story of Becky's comedy career (which is more of a Joan Bauer-esque way of handling the story). There is too much going on in this thin book (transvestite nanny, comedy practice, being a tour guide) and it keeps distracting the reader from the meat of the story itself.
Tashjian does make the powerful decision to include Kip's personal musings at various points through the story. As she relates in the afterward, she does this to avoid demonizing the boy. This adds a degree of subtlety to the book that other abusive-boyfriend stories have lacked.
A mixed review then. Excellent potential, strong writing, but needed a tighter focus.
Becky Martin is a high school senior in San Francisco, working on a budding career in stand up comedy, when she meets Kip, a very talented young comic with issues. Before she knows it, she's swept away into a torrid relationship with him that becomes emotionally abusive and eventually physically abusive as well. But Becky is no passive victim and she has the strength to break off the relationship as it goes bad, until she finds out that she isn't as strong as she thought she was.
The story is a powerful one of course, but I wish that Tashjian had kept the focus more on Becky's feelings and emotional state (which is basically how Dessen treated the story) and less time on the side story of Becky's comedy career (which is more of a Joan Bauer-esque way of handling the story). There is too much going on in this thin book (transvestite nanny, comedy practice, being a tour guide) and it keeps distracting the reader from the meat of the story itself.
Tashjian does make the powerful decision to include Kip's personal musings at various points through the story. As she relates in the afterward, she does this to avoid demonizing the boy. This adds a degree of subtlety to the book that other abusive-boyfriend stories have lacked.
A mixed review then. Excellent potential, strong writing, but needed a tighter focus.
Sunday, May 22, 2005
Honey, Baby, Sweetheart, by Deb Caletti
Sometimes, there is too much of a good thing....
This is the story of a young woman sucked into the sphere of a Bad Boy, in a relationship that goes from risky to dangerous to harmful. Bordering on an abusive relationship, Ruby's infatuation with Travis takes her into a minefield of dependency that even her mother has not managed to overcome.
This is a richly poetic book, chock full of metaphors and allusions, and colorful observations about life and love. It addresses at least one of my recent concerns -- the portrayal of parents in YA lit. In this one, the mother (while a real human being who must sometimes make decisions in Ruby's best interest) genuinely cares about her daughter and works with Ruby to overcome her issues. Ruby does rebel and Mom is not always perfect, but this is a story of a mother and daughter working together...and that is a beautiful thing.
So, why do I have a luke warm feeling about the book? I think the primary issue for me is that the writing is SO dense that it is a very slow read. At one point, I began to observe just how dense -- nearly every page had at least two pithy observations or clever sound bites. I began to feel that Caletti was just dumping a journal-full of these quotes into the book, finding a place to slam as many as she could. It gets overwhelming. And in the end, it makes for a pretty turgid read. I love Sarah Dessen's writings for her ability to bring out these lyric moments, but restraint is a blessed thing. There can be too much of a good thing.
This is the story of a young woman sucked into the sphere of a Bad Boy, in a relationship that goes from risky to dangerous to harmful. Bordering on an abusive relationship, Ruby's infatuation with Travis takes her into a minefield of dependency that even her mother has not managed to overcome.
This is a richly poetic book, chock full of metaphors and allusions, and colorful observations about life and love. It addresses at least one of my recent concerns -- the portrayal of parents in YA lit. In this one, the mother (while a real human being who must sometimes make decisions in Ruby's best interest) genuinely cares about her daughter and works with Ruby to overcome her issues. Ruby does rebel and Mom is not always perfect, but this is a story of a mother and daughter working together...and that is a beautiful thing.
So, why do I have a luke warm feeling about the book? I think the primary issue for me is that the writing is SO dense that it is a very slow read. At one point, I began to observe just how dense -- nearly every page had at least two pithy observations or clever sound bites. I began to feel that Caletti was just dumping a journal-full of these quotes into the book, finding a place to slam as many as she could. It gets overwhelming. And in the end, it makes for a pretty turgid read. I love Sarah Dessen's writings for her ability to bring out these lyric moments, but restraint is a blessed thing. There can be too much of a good thing.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
The Earth, My Butt, and Other Big Round Things, by Carolyn Mackler
Another really good book (I seem to be doing better these days!).
Life in upper class Manhattan for Virginia Shreves is a hell-hole of low self-esteem, living up to brilliant siblings, and dealing with cluelessly abusively parents. The book, as is almost predictable in a book of this genre, is about Virginia coming out of her shell and changing her life, with some help from her friends and a few third-parties.
More like Meg Cabot than Sarah Dessen, Mackler ties things up a bit too neatly at the end, but at least some things are left open (Virginia never quite conquers her eating compulsions, for example). It's a good read and leaves you cheering at the end. It might even make a great movie, if Hollywood could ever get itself to make a teen movie with an overweight heroine.
But let me digress on something I've noticed a lot of in YA lit that bugs me: the depiction of parents. Now, my own parents were utterly clueless in many ways and I certainly had my reasons for disliking them, but parents are overwealmingly portrayed as either permissive or arrogant. Either the parents let the kid get away with EVERYTHING or they cut their children off and punish them for expressing themselves. Are there parents that fit this mold? Certainly! But how many more parents are there out there who try to reach their kids but don't know how to do it? It's a cheap shot to always have such two-dimensional parents. Should I ever write YA (one of my dreams), I'd like to write a story where the parents are trying, but just not getting it. Sure, they can do something mean (for dramatic effect), but let's give them some depth. I think young readers would appreciate that.
Life in upper class Manhattan for Virginia Shreves is a hell-hole of low self-esteem, living up to brilliant siblings, and dealing with cluelessly abusively parents. The book, as is almost predictable in a book of this genre, is about Virginia coming out of her shell and changing her life, with some help from her friends and a few third-parties.
More like Meg Cabot than Sarah Dessen, Mackler ties things up a bit too neatly at the end, but at least some things are left open (Virginia never quite conquers her eating compulsions, for example). It's a good read and leaves you cheering at the end. It might even make a great movie, if Hollywood could ever get itself to make a teen movie with an overweight heroine.
But let me digress on something I've noticed a lot of in YA lit that bugs me: the depiction of parents. Now, my own parents were utterly clueless in many ways and I certainly had my reasons for disliking them, but parents are overwealmingly portrayed as either permissive or arrogant. Either the parents let the kid get away with EVERYTHING or they cut their children off and punish them for expressing themselves. Are there parents that fit this mold? Certainly! But how many more parents are there out there who try to reach their kids but don't know how to do it? It's a cheap shot to always have such two-dimensional parents. Should I ever write YA (one of my dreams), I'd like to write a story where the parents are trying, but just not getting it. Sure, they can do something mean (for dramatic effect), but let's give them some depth. I think young readers would appreciate that.
Sunday, May 15, 2005
What Every Girl (except me) Knows, by Nora Raleigh Baskin
Gabby Weiss is stuck with a annoying older brother and a no friends at school, but worst of all, she has no mother, so she must spend her time observing women to figure out all the secrets that a mother tells their daughters to make them ready for the real world. But over a year, Gabby makes a special friend, nearly gains (and then loses) a step-mother, and learns that the secrets of adulthood cannot be neatly placed on a list.
An absolutely stunning and beautiful book. To begin with, the story itself is delightful (albeit with some of the typical cliches of YA novels), the writing is strong and poetic (with plenty of insights and observations), and the characters are interesting and even fun. Partly, I suppose, it is nice to read a book that takes place in a familiar setting (New Paltz NY), but the characters are truly interesting and real.
Maybe not one of my all-time favorites, but a stellar read nonetheless.
An absolutely stunning and beautiful book. To begin with, the story itself is delightful (albeit with some of the typical cliches of YA novels), the writing is strong and poetic (with plenty of insights and observations), and the characters are interesting and even fun. Partly, I suppose, it is nice to read a book that takes place in a familiar setting (New Paltz NY), but the characters are truly interesting and real.
Maybe not one of my all-time favorites, but a stellar read nonetheless.
Thursday, May 12, 2005
Forever, by Judy Blume
Finishing up the survey of Judy Blume (for now) with a really steamy entry...
Forever is the story of Kath and Michael (and Ralph!) and their first love -- a very hot torrid physical relationship. The story recounts everything from falling in love, to having sex, to dealing with separation, and to the eventual breakup.
There actually isn't much more story than that, although Blume does fit in teen suicide, teen pregnancy, birth control, and even drinking and drug use. There's a lot going on in this book and it is pretty explicit. In fact, it's basically NC-17 (or XXX to use the jargon in which the book is written). As before, there are lots of moments that date this book (most notably, that this group of 18 year olds go to a bar and have drinks). The most dangerous dated reference (having sex without a condom) is actually addressed by Blume in a new forward to the book.
There are certainly lovely moments in the book, like recounting the awkward physics of having sex with a new partner or the cuteness of pet names (although I used "Richard" instead of "Ralph"), but again it is a rushed book. And like so many of her other books, Blume is on a crusade and it shows. Kath is so comfortable having sex and so uninhibited (as, in fact are the adults) that it is surreal. Even for adults, it does not go that smoothly. But in the end, the whole experience is just so clinical -- Blume is basically trying to show young readers that sex is awkward and wonderful -- that the story is hollow and empty. To have written a book about how beautiful young love and passion can be would have made a fantastic read. Instead, we have a clinical and political manifesto....and one that left me feeling a bit dirty.
Forever is the story of Kath and Michael (and Ralph!) and their first love -- a very hot torrid physical relationship. The story recounts everything from falling in love, to having sex, to dealing with separation, and to the eventual breakup.
There actually isn't much more story than that, although Blume does fit in teen suicide, teen pregnancy, birth control, and even drinking and drug use. There's a lot going on in this book and it is pretty explicit. In fact, it's basically NC-17 (or XXX to use the jargon in which the book is written). As before, there are lots of moments that date this book (most notably, that this group of 18 year olds go to a bar and have drinks). The most dangerous dated reference (having sex without a condom) is actually addressed by Blume in a new forward to the book.
There are certainly lovely moments in the book, like recounting the awkward physics of having sex with a new partner or the cuteness of pet names (although I used "Richard" instead of "Ralph"), but again it is a rushed book. And like so many of her other books, Blume is on a crusade and it shows. Kath is so comfortable having sex and so uninhibited (as, in fact are the adults) that it is surreal. Even for adults, it does not go that smoothly. But in the end, the whole experience is just so clinical -- Blume is basically trying to show young readers that sex is awkward and wonderful -- that the story is hollow and empty. To have written a book about how beautiful young love and passion can be would have made a fantastic read. Instead, we have a clinical and political manifesto....and one that left me feeling a bit dirty.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
Lifted Up by Angels, by Lurlene McDaniel
OK, so I give up on this one. The first book in the series was borderline, but my suspicions were bourne out in the second installment...
This is the continuation of the story begun in Angels Watching Over Me and picks up six months after Leah's stay (and recovery). Longing for her Amish friends (and her love Ethan in particular), Leah spends the summer in Napannee IN, near where the family lives. She learns a lot more about the Amish and has a few adventures. A dramatic tear jerker ending that comes out of nowhere will elicit a sob or more.
The writing style grows more stilted in this book, with such amzingly bad prose as "the rose fingers of dawn" and some amzingly bad dialog. McDaniel gets her style from adult romance novels and this is basically one of those, with a slightly younger heroine. The man is a wooden figure, his stoic boring nature explained away as being Amish. Leah's swooning, recounted repeatedly through the book, never quite seems justified or real.
The book came on a recommendation from a young reader, and maybe if you hadn't read a lot of romance novels yet, this would be appealing, but the story has little to do with growing up or learning to become an adult (like a decent YA novel) or with young people coping with disease (as the author claims her goal is).
This is the continuation of the story begun in Angels Watching Over Me and picks up six months after Leah's stay (and recovery). Longing for her Amish friends (and her love Ethan in particular), Leah spends the summer in Napannee IN, near where the family lives. She learns a lot more about the Amish and has a few adventures. A dramatic tear jerker ending that comes out of nowhere will elicit a sob or more.
The writing style grows more stilted in this book, with such amzingly bad prose as "the rose fingers of dawn" and some amzingly bad dialog. McDaniel gets her style from adult romance novels and this is basically one of those, with a slightly younger heroine. The man is a wooden figure, his stoic boring nature explained away as being Amish. Leah's swooning, recounted repeatedly through the book, never quite seems justified or real.
The book came on a recommendation from a young reader, and maybe if you hadn't read a lot of romance novels yet, this would be appealing, but the story has little to do with growing up or learning to become an adult (like a decent YA novel) or with young people coping with disease (as the author claims her goal is).
Tuesday, May 03, 2005
Lizzie at Last, by Claudia Mills
Elizabeth is a math whiz, with a penchant for wearing Victorian dresses, writing poetry, and imagining that she would be better off in the time of Emily Dickinson. Her quirkiness gets her labeled as a "nerd" by her classmates, but her academically-minded parents don't get Lizzie's desire to become "normal" and popular as she enters seventh-grade.
It's a bit of a hackneyed plot, with the predictable self-discovery at the end that has Lizzie deciding to be true to herslef rather than what people want her to be. However, it's lightened on the way by Mills's ability to recreate Junior High in wonderful technicolor. Again, the book suffers from being written in the third person, but Lizzie emerges nonetheless as a three dimensional character, albeit a bit of a stereotype.
Still, anyone who grew up quirky (like me) will appreciate some degree of familiarity in Lizzie's personality.
The book itself is part of a series which includes stories of several of her classmates as well. That is bound to be fun, but a bit lost on me as I'm joining the series mid-way.
It's a bit of a hackneyed plot, with the predictable self-discovery at the end that has Lizzie deciding to be true to herslef rather than what people want her to be. However, it's lightened on the way by Mills's ability to recreate Junior High in wonderful technicolor. Again, the book suffers from being written in the third person, but Lizzie emerges nonetheless as a three dimensional character, albeit a bit of a stereotype.
Still, anyone who grew up quirky (like me) will appreciate some degree of familiarity in Lizzie's personality.
The book itself is part of a series which includes stories of several of her classmates as well. That is bound to be fun, but a bit lost on me as I'm joining the series mid-way.
Sunday, May 01, 2005
Angels Watching Over Me, by Lurlene McDaniel
Now, I venture into Christian-romance territory....
The first of a trilogy about angels, McDaniel's book is about Leah, a young woman who spends a week alone in a hospital (her mother is away in Japan on a Honeymoon) with a broken finger that becomes a diagnosis for bone cancer. Her roommate, an Amish girl, and her roommate's family teach her a number of lessons about simplicity and faith in God. Along the way, there is a strange mystery visitor who no one else knows of and who the book strongly suggests (but avoids outright stating) is an angel.
I get a bit scared with books with strong religious undertones, but I have to admit that this one (I'll reserve my judgment on the next two installments) was pretty good about keeping the preaching to a minimum. Stories about Amish (I'm thinking of Plain Girl) can be great fun so I enjoyed that part of the story.
It is a bit hard that the book is written in third person. As a rule, I prefer the first-person style for YA literature. Written this way, the author has distanced us from the main character. Overall, the style is more adult romance novel than YA literature as well. There is some obligatory references to adolescence, but everyone seems terribly grown up here, and so I may eventually lose interest with the story if we don't return to some more age-appropriate action.
The first of a trilogy about angels, McDaniel's book is about Leah, a young woman who spends a week alone in a hospital (her mother is away in Japan on a Honeymoon) with a broken finger that becomes a diagnosis for bone cancer. Her roommate, an Amish girl, and her roommate's family teach her a number of lessons about simplicity and faith in God. Along the way, there is a strange mystery visitor who no one else knows of and who the book strongly suggests (but avoids outright stating) is an angel.
I get a bit scared with books with strong religious undertones, but I have to admit that this one (I'll reserve my judgment on the next two installments) was pretty good about keeping the preaching to a minimum. Stories about Amish (I'm thinking of Plain Girl) can be great fun so I enjoyed that part of the story.
It is a bit hard that the book is written in third person. As a rule, I prefer the first-person style for YA literature. Written this way, the author has distanced us from the main character. Overall, the style is more adult romance novel than YA literature as well. There is some obligatory references to adolescence, but everyone seems terribly grown up here, and so I may eventually lose interest with the story if we don't return to some more age-appropriate action.
Saturday, April 30, 2005
Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret, by Judy Blume
OK, now we're in true classic territory in my survey of Judy Blume books.
This is the story of Margaret Simon, daughter of a Jewish father and Christian mother, who struggles with determining what religion (if any) she believes in. As far as the title and the synopsis is concerned, that's basically the plot. But of course, the book is really about buying her first bra and waiting for her first period, and other classic traumas of sixth-grade femininity.
Like with the other books by Blume I've been reading, I have mixed feelings about this one. This was landmark stuff when it came out and it manages to avoid getting too pedantic at the difficult moments. But, once again, Blume is on a mission to deliver a message and the plot and the characters are pretty incidental to that mission. And then, there's the unmistakable style that she has whereby Margaret sounds like every other character from a Blume novel (even like the boys). That gets a bit tiring. I'm reminded of Phyllis Naylor's Alice series and of the smart move that Naylor made at just having the same character throughout, thus avoiding any problem with having so many allegedly different kids sound the same.
This is the story of Margaret Simon, daughter of a Jewish father and Christian mother, who struggles with determining what religion (if any) she believes in. As far as the title and the synopsis is concerned, that's basically the plot. But of course, the book is really about buying her first bra and waiting for her first period, and other classic traumas of sixth-grade femininity.
Like with the other books by Blume I've been reading, I have mixed feelings about this one. This was landmark stuff when it came out and it manages to avoid getting too pedantic at the difficult moments. But, once again, Blume is on a mission to deliver a message and the plot and the characters are pretty incidental to that mission. And then, there's the unmistakable style that she has whereby Margaret sounds like every other character from a Blume novel (even like the boys). That gets a bit tiring. I'm reminded of Phyllis Naylor's Alice series and of the smart move that Naylor made at just having the same character throughout, thus avoiding any problem with having so many allegedly different kids sound the same.
Monday, April 25, 2005
Multiple Choice, by Janet Tashjian
Wow.
Hadn't read a good book in a while. I mean, I really good book.
Multiple Choice is the story of Monica who suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder. She develops a game to try to help her overcome her compulsions but instead it makes her life much much worse.
There are a couple of things I like about this book. First of all, it doesn't have a happy ending, although it ends on an optimistic note. Not everything gets solved and her path to recpvery will definitely take longer than the story allows. Second, the subject matter is original and interesting. I felt a strong personal interest in the problem (I have some compulsions of my own so I could sympathize with her fears about making mistakes and her need to do things right all the time). I found myself being drawn into her issues.
And any book that draws me in and won't let me put it down is a definite keeper!
Hadn't read a good book in a while. I mean, I really good book.
Multiple Choice is the story of Monica who suffers from obsessive-compulsive disorder. She develops a game to try to help her overcome her compulsions but instead it makes her life much much worse.
There are a couple of things I like about this book. First of all, it doesn't have a happy ending, although it ends on an optimistic note. Not everything gets solved and her path to recpvery will definitely take longer than the story allows. Second, the subject matter is original and interesting. I felt a strong personal interest in the problem (I have some compulsions of my own so I could sympathize with her fears about making mistakes and her need to do things right all the time). I found myself being drawn into her issues.
And any book that draws me in and won't let me put it down is a definite keeper!
Sunday, April 24, 2005
Deenie, by Judy Blume
Having suffered through a mile case of scoliosis myself, I figured that I'd be able to relate to this story of a girl who has to go through the stigma of wearing a brace (although I thankfully never had to wear one). What I didn't realize is the real reason that people read the book.
Given that the book was written in 1973, mentioning masturbation in a children's book was pretty advanced stuff, and discussing it several times made it more than just a gratuitous inclusion.
Again, however, Blume's writing hasn't aged well. Putting aside the references to full-service gas stations and department stores, Deenie and her friends are just a bit too wide eyed and innocent for the 7th graders they are. Phyllis Naylor and her "Alice" series has covered the same topics in the midst of IM and email with a similiar innocence.
The problem I think comes down to putting adult thoughts into children's minds. On one hand, they are portrayed are these innocent creatures, but then they are also fairly technical and clinical about their bodies. It's an odd juxtaposition. Almost as if the author is saying "hey, here are the sexual facts stuff" rather than trying to portray how adolescents understand sexuality.
To some extent, that was Blume's attempt of course -- to give girls (mostly) a safe way to find out correct information about sex, but it makes for a pedantic story. Because, in the end, Deenie's curiosity about masturbation and sexuality really don't have much to do with the rest of the story. One could argue that maybe that just is the way life actually IS, but again I think YA lit has come a long way in 30+ years.
Given that the book was written in 1973, mentioning masturbation in a children's book was pretty advanced stuff, and discussing it several times made it more than just a gratuitous inclusion.
Again, however, Blume's writing hasn't aged well. Putting aside the references to full-service gas stations and department stores, Deenie and her friends are just a bit too wide eyed and innocent for the 7th graders they are. Phyllis Naylor and her "Alice" series has covered the same topics in the midst of IM and email with a similiar innocence.
The problem I think comes down to putting adult thoughts into children's minds. On one hand, they are portrayed are these innocent creatures, but then they are also fairly technical and clinical about their bodies. It's an odd juxtaposition. Almost as if the author is saying "hey, here are the sexual facts stuff" rather than trying to portray how adolescents understand sexuality.
To some extent, that was Blume's attempt of course -- to give girls (mostly) a safe way to find out correct information about sex, but it makes for a pedantic story. Because, in the end, Deenie's curiosity about masturbation and sexuality really don't have much to do with the rest of the story. One could argue that maybe that just is the way life actually IS, but again I think YA lit has come a long way in 30+ years.
Monday, April 18, 2005
Jacob Have I Loved, by Katherine Paterson
So, it's a classic. It won the Newbery in 1980 and a ton of awards. It's the story of Sara Louise, or "Wheeze" who grows up in a crab harvesting community in Chesapeake Bay in the 1940s. The book is largely about sibling rivalry with her sister Caroline -- the brilliant and talented.
It is a good book. But probably just not my type of good book. The writing is not outstanding in itself, although there are a few wonderful strong moments. And the story has a broader scope (travelling with Sara all the way through to her adulthood, marriage, and child). In fact, the story doesn't really seem to know how to end, and major characters are lost and forgotten about by the end. So, since I tend to derive my greatest satisfaction from strong characters who acheive some sort of change or development, I was left a bit disappointed.
That said, it is a good book. But not one that will move you in a strong emotional way. It simply is.
It is a good book. But probably just not my type of good book. The writing is not outstanding in itself, although there are a few wonderful strong moments. And the story has a broader scope (travelling with Sara all the way through to her adulthood, marriage, and child). In fact, the story doesn't really seem to know how to end, and major characters are lost and forgotten about by the end. So, since I tend to derive my greatest satisfaction from strong characters who acheive some sort of change or development, I was left a bit disappointed.
That said, it is a good book. But not one that will move you in a strong emotional way. It simply is.
Sunday, April 17, 2005
A Song for Jeffrey, by Constance M. Foland
This is a book in the American Girl Fiction series and, being part of that commercial line, I didn't have high hopes for it. However, it has a few good points.
First of all, it is a mildly educational book about muscular dystrophy and the troubles that children with it go through, both physically and emotionally. It is also a warm experience to watch how the heroine Dodie matures as she deals with the fact that her friend has MD and is dying. The author could have taken a lot of cheap steps to pull on heart strings and she avoided that.
The problem with the book is that it really tries to do too much. rather than focus on Dodie and Jeffrey's friendship, Foland also throws in the parental separation angle, as something of an oversight. This leads to several excruciating dialog scenes between daughter and parents about why her parents can't live with each other, and an overly sweet and tidy resolution (of sorts) to their problems.
And then there's the overly writing. Wonderful plot devices, great writing, until we get to the dialogue that just sounds flat and a bit fake. Too much preaching, vocabulary (and conversation) that's entirely age-inappropriate. Foland understands children and how they think, but she just doesn't get the way they talk down on paper.
A mixed review. Better than one would have expected, but suffers from the preachy and shallow nature of most AG works.
First of all, it is a mildly educational book about muscular dystrophy and the troubles that children with it go through, both physically and emotionally. It is also a warm experience to watch how the heroine Dodie matures as she deals with the fact that her friend has MD and is dying. The author could have taken a lot of cheap steps to pull on heart strings and she avoided that.
The problem with the book is that it really tries to do too much. rather than focus on Dodie and Jeffrey's friendship, Foland also throws in the parental separation angle, as something of an oversight. This leads to several excruciating dialog scenes between daughter and parents about why her parents can't live with each other, and an overly sweet and tidy resolution (of sorts) to their problems.
And then there's the overly writing. Wonderful plot devices, great writing, until we get to the dialogue that just sounds flat and a bit fake. Too much preaching, vocabulary (and conversation) that's entirely age-inappropriate. Foland understands children and how they think, but she just doesn't get the way they talk down on paper.
A mixed review. Better than one would have expected, but suffers from the preachy and shallow nature of most AG works.
Sunday, April 10, 2005
Catalyst, by Laurie Halse Anderson
Set at the same High School as Anderson's Speak, this is a somewhat similar (but different) story about a high school girl who has hit the success path with a grinding abandon that too many adults do. She works especially hard to be the "Good Kate" who excels at all her classes and extracurricular activities, until it all falls apart. And, of course, learns that there is more to life than excelling at education.
In a subtle moment, there is a gratuitous moment where the heorine of Speak and Kate actually meet and share a few words. But thankfully that moment is kept tastefully short. But the two girls are also surprisingly similar: overachievers with communication problems. They succeed at everything they do, except for talking about their needs with the people they love. That is sad (and a recurring theme of YA literature) and also discouraging because Anderson never shows her characters really overcoming their problems. They fix their immediate problems, but their fears that hold them back are never really overcome. That's the way modern novellists like to work (avoid the tidy ending) but in reading these stories you really wish the girls had grown in that way as well.
In this book, it is particularly frustrating: you really want things to work out somehow, but problems are unresolved at the end (with resolutions merely hinted at). I longed at the end for Kate to come up with some sort of summary about her experience and how she had changed.
But perhaps the fact that I wanted it so badly is indicative of the quality of the book. With too many other books, I could have cared less. So, I'd recommend this one and giving yourself a chance to get as frustrated over Kate's choices as I did.
In a subtle moment, there is a gratuitous moment where the heorine of Speak and Kate actually meet and share a few words. But thankfully that moment is kept tastefully short. But the two girls are also surprisingly similar: overachievers with communication problems. They succeed at everything they do, except for talking about their needs with the people they love. That is sad (and a recurring theme of YA literature) and also discouraging because Anderson never shows her characters really overcoming their problems. They fix their immediate problems, but their fears that hold them back are never really overcome. That's the way modern novellists like to work (avoid the tidy ending) but in reading these stories you really wish the girls had grown in that way as well.
In this book, it is particularly frustrating: you really want things to work out somehow, but problems are unresolved at the end (with resolutions merely hinted at). I longed at the end for Kate to come up with some sort of summary about her experience and how she had changed.
But perhaps the fact that I wanted it so badly is indicative of the quality of the book. With too many other books, I could have cared less. So, I'd recommend this one and giving yourself a chance to get as frustrated over Kate's choices as I did.
Monday, April 04, 2005
Then Again, Maybe I Won't, by Judy Blume
Continuing the survey of Judy Blume books....
This little book is a ways off of my usual. First of all, the character is a boy and he's not a terribly insightful character. Secondly, the book is terribly dated (references to fancy hard top cars, expensive $30 baseball gloves, etc.). The book is about a teenage boy, but the problems he faces are terribly quaint in retrospect.
This is an early Judy Blume book and one of her attempts at trying to write about growing up from a boy's perspective. Some of the material rings true (being embarassed about getting erections during school) but some of it is just out there. The kid lives a fairly sheltered charmed life where kids still call adults "sir" and "ma'am". The most traumatic thing that happens to this kid is that his friend shoplifts. This send our pretty perfect boy into such a fit that he has an ulcer and has to spend ten days in the hospital (you can tell this was long before managed care!).
Perhaps I'm just not as interested in boys, but I think this one just falls flat. Young Tony just isn't very insightful about his life or his feelings -- not an inspiring picture for kids looking for role models in much more complicated times.
This little book is a ways off of my usual. First of all, the character is a boy and he's not a terribly insightful character. Secondly, the book is terribly dated (references to fancy hard top cars, expensive $30 baseball gloves, etc.). The book is about a teenage boy, but the problems he faces are terribly quaint in retrospect.
This is an early Judy Blume book and one of her attempts at trying to write about growing up from a boy's perspective. Some of the material rings true (being embarassed about getting erections during school) but some of it is just out there. The kid lives a fairly sheltered charmed life where kids still call adults "sir" and "ma'am". The most traumatic thing that happens to this kid is that his friend shoplifts. This send our pretty perfect boy into such a fit that he has an ulcer and has to spend ten days in the hospital (you can tell this was long before managed care!).
Perhaps I'm just not as interested in boys, but I think this one just falls flat. Young Tony just isn't very insightful about his life or his feelings -- not an inspiring picture for kids looking for role models in much more complicated times.
Saturday, April 02, 2005
Missing May, by Cynthia Rylant
I guess that I get so used to "issues" stories, that I forget that YA literature is full of simple beautiful stories about...well, not very much. Missing May is one of those simple stories. A lot like Patricia Maclachlan's books, this story takes on the grieving process. Summer is a young girl whose elderly stepmother has died. She and her stepfather, along with a kooky neighbor Cletus, discover how to "turn the buggy around."
The story is set in West Virginia and felt very familiar. Not that I grew up in poor Appalachia, but the culture is similar to what I did grow up with so I recognize the lingo and the mannerisms.
It's a short sweet tale, the type that has me choking back tears. No major life lessons here, but wonderful lyrical material.
The story is set in West Virginia and felt very familiar. Not that I grew up in poor Appalachia, but the culture is similar to what I did grow up with so I recognize the lingo and the mannerisms.
It's a short sweet tale, the type that has me choking back tears. No major life lessons here, but wonderful lyrical material.
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Blubber, by Judy Blume
Continuing my survey of Judy Blume novels...
I actually read Blubber at the age of 12 or so but I don't remember much beyond the ending for some reason. I blocked out the obnoxious little brother or the subplot about vandalizing the mean man's mailbox. I remember the humiliations though. Strange what we remember.
This is of course a classic. Probably one of the better books about peer pressure and the sheer meanness that kids can express to each other. It struck home very hard when I was little since I had been in Blubber's place when I was a kid and struggled with the desire to be a tormentor instead of a tormentee.
Blume never really gives any advice for dealing with the problem and I know I was frustrated by that. To this day, I wonder if there wasn't a better way of dealing with teasing and being teased.
I actually read Blubber at the age of 12 or so but I don't remember much beyond the ending for some reason. I blocked out the obnoxious little brother or the subplot about vandalizing the mean man's mailbox. I remember the humiliations though. Strange what we remember.
This is of course a classic. Probably one of the better books about peer pressure and the sheer meanness that kids can express to each other. It struck home very hard when I was little since I had been in Blubber's place when I was a kid and struggled with the desire to be a tormentor instead of a tormentee.
Blume never really gives any advice for dealing with the problem and I know I was frustrated by that. To this day, I wonder if there wasn't a better way of dealing with teasing and being teased.
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