young-adult-literature

"Enchanted Ivy" by Sarah Beth Durst and "boom!" by Mark Haddon

Thu, 13 Jan 2011 01:11:05 +0100

“Enchanted Ivy,” by Sarah Beth Durst, reads like a love letter to Princeton University. Durst acknowledges in her foreword that she is an alumna of the school, and that she wanted to write a novel that incorporated the many gargoyles from the campus buildings as characters. While she manages to do so, she fails to develop a believable plot for her characters. Lily, the protagonist, embarks on what she initially believes to be a “special” test to gain early admission to Princeton. In the process of her test, she discovers she is really half-dryad, that her mother is not crazy, and that gargoyles and magic are lively and well in New Jersey.

I have no problem with fantasy novels, nor do I usually fret about suspending disbelief, but Lily shifts too quickly from skeptical to accepting when it comes to the magic of the novel. Alliances are made and broken too quickly, people seem to recover too easily from their problems, and the magical realm that Durst introduces seems more dull than I would like it to be. I just never felt swept up into the world of this novel.

I had equal difficulty with accepting “Boom!” by Mark Haddon. This novel takes off on a familiar tack—“hey some of our teachers are space aliens!” Jimbo and Charlie bug the teachers’ lounge at their school in an effort to find out if Jimbo is about to be expelled. Instead, they hear two of their teachers speaking in a clearly alien language and behaving in strange ways. As they spy on their teachers, they learn enough to be dangerous—Charlie ends up kidnapped, and Jimbo has to turn to his sister Becky for help to find him.

In general, this novel is livelier and more engaging than “Enchanted Ivy,” but it still falls flat. Jimbo, Charlie, and Becky are believable characters, but they are stuck in a novel that just never really seems to come alive. I can almost hear the machinery of the novel creaking in the background. The characters are trying to play along, but the plot lets them down.

"Written in Bone:Buried Lives of Jamestown and Colonial Maryland" by Sally M. Walker

Fri, 02 Jul 2010 15:51:27 +0100

Sally M. Walker's "Written In Bone: Buried Lives of Jamestown and Colonial Maryland" provides a strong, compelling picture of the value of forensic archeology, written in an appealing and engaging manner. Walker makes good use of photographs and illustrations to explain how archeologists do their work. Her analysis goes far to make the case for why such studies matter.

Walker builds her analysis around three central questions that she asks of the archeological remains that she discusses:

Who were you?
How did you live?
How did you die?

Each of the skeletons that are discussed reveal interesting and engaging details about the lives of the people and their surroundings. Scientists can determine gender, race, age, area of origin, lifestyle in the colonies, and often the likely cause of death.The stories are incredibly moving and poignant. The people we learn about lived and died in diverse and varied ways: a ship's captain. a boy who died from an infected arrow wound, an indentured servant who likely was killed by his master and dumped in a garbage pit, the wealthy family buried in lead-lined coffins, and the slave woman who was treated with care after her death. In each case, Walker elaborates how the physical evidence reveals much about the lives and times of the people whose remains are examined.

I personally learned a great deal from this book. Walker's explanation of how archeologists set up a dig and manage it matched my own experience on a dig. Plus, her writing is lively and compelling--she makes this world, pardon the pun, come alive for the reader. I think many students in middle school and above would find this book fascinating. It provides a wonderful blend of science, story, and history that would make it a welcome addition to the study of colonial America.

"My Most Excellent Year: A Novel of Love, Mary Poppins, & Fenway Park" by Steve Kluger

Sun, 27 Dec 2009 19:54:06 +0100

Imagine a novel set in a high school, with three main characters: two boys and a girl. Now imagine that I told you it was in the style of a classic teen romance. All of these statements are true. But my guess is that you imagined it all wrong.

Kluger has written a terrific teen romance for the modern age. The two boys, TC and Augie, have called each other "brother" since they chose to become brothers at age six. TC is a rabid Red Sox fan, while Augie's taste runs more toward musical theatre. When Ale, a new student, arrives, she brings their whole world into focus.

Several things make this young adult novel a stand-out. Most importantly, it deals with gay and straight characters very matter-of-factly. Everybody but Augie seems clear that he is gay, including his parents. And his realization that he IS gay isn't earth-shattering--it is simply clarifying. Augie's incipient romance runs the same sorts of ups and downs as any other high school relationship. This detail alone makes this book an important one for school libraries to own.

The novel also emplys a time-tested, yet up-dated narration. Each of the main characters ( and to a minor extent, their parents and friends) tell their stories by way of journal entries in letter formats, IMs, emails, passed notes, and memos. The story unfolds in this classic epistlatory form, yet feels entirely modern with its multiple narrators and newer technological means of communicating. Each character has a clear, individual, strong voice that makes this novel a pleasure to read.

Finally, as an adult, I appreciate that not all the parents and teachers are depicted as dictatorial or clueless. TC's Dad and Augie's parents are aware and thoughtful. While Ale's parents are more problematic, they too come around in the end.

As a teacher, I would love to pair this novel with a more traditional romance, such as "Romeo and Juliet" or "Pride and Prejudice." It could spark some lively discussion on what has -- and has not -- changed in teenage life. If one foregrounded the fact that in Shakespeare's time both Romeo and Julilet would have been played by young men, the differences may further evaporate.

This novel is sweet, gentle, and wonderful. I would hope that libraries in both high schools and middle schools would feel comfortable offering such a delightful new spin on such an age-old topic.

"Charles and Emma" by Deborah Heiligman

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:51:34 +0100

“Charles and Emma: The Darwins’ Leap of Faith” by Deborah Heiligman provides an interesting contrast to the average biography for adolescents. Her subjects are not the latest pop or athletic stars, nor are they the people regularly assigned as projects in literature classes. Instead, Heiligman looks at the way that Charles and Emma Darwin, as a couple, negotiated their senses of religion and evolution.

Heiligman’s book begins with Charles Darwin’s list, in which he evaluates whether or not he should marry. Immediately we gain a clear insight into the mind of Charles, who believes that issues should be analyzed, categorized, and studied before deciding how to proceed. Yet he chooses, in this instance, to ignore the fact that the “Not Marry” side of the list is longer—he opts to propose to his cousin Emma Wedgewood.

His fears, as Heiligman outlines, are completely justified. Emma is thoughtful and analytical, but she also believes strongly in Christianity and the importance of faith. She worries that Charles may not go to heaven if he rejects religion completely. Yet his honesty about his uncertainty allays her doubts and she accepts his proposal.

The bulk of the book catalogues this unique and interesting relationship. Heiligman provides a great deal of primary material, from letters and notebooks, to show how these two people worked out their relationship and how they struggled with where their philosophies and beliefs differed. They chose to live in the country, away from the centers of science and learning, yet found the quiet of country life a better atmosphere for thoughtful consideration of scientific studies. They suffered through the deaths of 3 of their 10 children, yet they optimistically reared their children to be willing to stand up as individuals for what they believed. Throughout it all, their deep and abiding love shines through their words and their actions.

While I enjoyed this book a great deal and found it immensely illuminating, I find it difficult to imagine most adolescents choosing to pick it up. It would make an interesting assignment for classes that studying evolution, if only so that students could see how much Darwin thought about the controversies for which his work is still criticized. Heiligman does such a wonderful job of tracing how Darwin worked meticulously at his research, that this biography would serve as a reminder to students how careful and precise science needs to be.

I would recommend this biography wholeheartedly, but I would carefully choose which readers I would recommend it to. It isn’t difficult to read, but it very much reflects the era and the culture of its subjects.

“Into the Wild Nerd Yonder: My Life on the Dork Side” by Julie Halpern

Fri, 20 Nov 2009 21:49:51 +0100

The process of growing up requires just that—growing and changing and sometimes becoming someone completely new and completely different. In the teen novel “Into the Wild Nerd Yonder,” author Julie Halpern explores that metamorphosis, both for the good and the bad it can bring.

Our narrator is Jessie, a sophomore in high school who faces some awkward and difficult choices. Jessie is refreshing in part because her problems arise not from her family or any personal tragedy. (So many YA books involve death or life-threatening issues these days.) Instead, she has to figure out how she wants to relate to her two oldest and best friends, Bizza and Char. Jessie’s friends seem much more interested in cultivating connections with the band mates of Jessie’s older brother, Barrett, and especially with Van, a boy Jessie has had a crush on for years. Bizza and Char even go so far as to re-make themselves for the new school year as punk rockers, the better to fit in with the band.

Jessie is an interesting blend of self-reliance and uncertainty. She has a clear sense of who she is—she is working on making a different skirt for each day of the school year from fun fabrics that she finds on clearance. She likes school, she likes her family, yet she wants to fit in. After a final sense of betrayal from Bizza and Char, Jessie finds herself needing to recreate her own school identity.

The novel gives a realistic depiction of how difficult it is to seek out new people with whom you may have shared interests, and how hard it can be to leave behind those old friends whom you have outgrown. Jessie makes the effort to cultivate a new group of people to share lunch by reaching out to one of her classmates. But her biggest “risk”—at least in her own eyes—is accepting an invitation from a different classmate to join in a weekly game of Dungeons and Dragons. She weighs her discomfort at being labeled a “nerd” against her desire to do things and meet new people, and decides to forge ahead. In the process, she finds a new group of people who care about her and accept her as she is.

This novel, while mostly affirming, does get into some problematic areas. High school students are seen facing issues revolving around oral sex and STDs, for example. As a result, I think this novel might fit best in a high school library. I can think of some 8^th graders who might be mature enough to handle the subject matter, but I would not put it in my K to 8 school library because many students would not be able to handle it.

Overall, Halpern provides excellent insight into how a high school girl might try to navigate the ebb and flow of self-definition. I would highly recommend this book for most readers in that age group, but especially for girls.

"Stone Voice Rising" by C. Lee Tocci

Mon, 14 Sep 2009 15:16:51 +0100

"Stone Voice Rising," by C. Lee Tocci shares much with a recent crop of fantasy novels for middle readers to young adults. It is set in what feels like the present time, but with protagonists who are engaged in an important, but somewhat hidden or secret battle to save the world. I found myself thinking of both the Harry Potter series and the Gregor the Overlander series while reading this book. And like the initial books in those series, this book leaves much open at the end to be resolved in future installments.

The novel opens with the intertwining stories of Lilibit, a little girl with a special ability to talk to and understand rocks and stones, and Todd, a boy who has similar capabilities with birds. Both are presumed orphans (hmmm, like Harry Potter and most other protagonists in children's literature who are going to have adventures...) and both are encouraged to ignore or hide their abilities.

Lilibit is cared for by her "aunties" and eventually by a special guardian whom she calls "Tree." As Tree, more formally called Keotak-se, attempts to take Lilibit for protection to Kiva, they are attacked by agents of some sort of mega-corporation and both disappear temporarily from the scene.

Todd has the misfortune of ending up in an intensely unpleasant foster home, but with other children with whom he generally feels a strong bond. This group and their interactions evoke the children from the Narnia chronicles--one protective, one a bit sneaky and problematic, one in need of protection, etc. When they are threatened, though, they are able to pull together to act as a team.

Not surprisingly, the two threads of the story reconnect when Lilibit shows up at the foster home, a mere shell of her former self. She begins regain her memory after a series of disasters, and is the catalyst for the journey that these children pursue on their way to escape their bleak and hopeless present for the promise of safety and security at Kiva.

Tocci does a good job of pulling the reader into her story by creating characters that are believable and well-rounded. Each character has faults, and each has redeeming value. This story follows a basic quest format, and it sets up the books that are sure to follow. The villains, while perhaps a bit more dark and soulless than I would prefer, do fit this age group's preference for clearly delineated categories of Evil and Good. I have included it here as a YA book in part because parts of the novel could be pretty scary to readers that are too young.

I especially enjoyed the setting in the desert Southwest of the United States, with the references to aspects of Native American mythology and spirituality. In all, this book is one I will certainly recommend to those voracious fantasy readers at my school as another thoughtful, well-written adventure into imagination.

So-Called Young Adult Literature

Sat, 08 Aug 2009 19:46:41 +0100

Okay, I know that this title is a bit challenging, but it gets at an issue I want to address. As a librarian for a PreK to Grade 8 school, I spend a good amount of time screening books that get labeled "young adult" or "adolescent." In part, I like to make sure the subject matter is appropriate for our middle school aged children. Some books deal very frankly with information that is completely appropriate for high school students, but much less so for 7th and 8th graders. Sometimes, I am screening out the worst of the ever-popular spate of books on "My parent has a terminal disease and I feel guilty about wanting to have fun" or on "I am suffering from some dread secret, problem, trauma, etc., and need to share how I feel."

But I have discovered something completely unexpected in these voyages into young adult literature. I am finding books that I am reading, as an adult, with pleasure and curiosity. Often, I find myself wondering, why has this particular book been classified as "young adult"?

The answer is still in the process of emerging for me. I found "The Book Thief" to be an engrossing and engaging book, truly worthy of an audience beyond just the adolescent one. Yet it regularly shows up in classifications as a young adult book. While students in 7th and 8th grades could certainly read it and understand it (albeit that its length might be somewhat daunting), and while Amazon describes as for "Grades 9 and up," it is a book that is just as appropriate for adults. In fact, every adult that I have recommended the book to has read it through, and has found it compelling and moving.

So why the label? The best that I can figure is that publishers have decided that such books that are not easily classified as a recreational adult genre (mystery, romance, thriller) and which have plot lines that are explored in a primarily chronological fashion (not artsy enough for the reader of literary adult fiction), must by default be for young adults, especially if there are none of those danger markers (usually sex) that will get the book challenged by parents.

And such labeling is unfortunate. While I am glad that middle and high school children will read this book (often in a classroom), I find it sad that the wider adult audience may never stumble upon this book and gain its insights into the human condition.