Reviewlettes

Do you remember the Sara Lee jingle? I was going to provide you with a commercial with the jingle compliments of your neighborhood YouTube, but I came across this one and had to share despite no jingle.



That's weird, right? Yeah, I thought so.

Anyway, the jingle. I used to think it was Nobody Does it Like Sara Lee? And then later found out it was Nobody Doesn't Like Sara Lee.  Really? That's just bad writing, people.

This elaborate lead-in is a way to credit Raych with the term reviewlettes.  Perhaps she didn't originate it, but Imma gonna credit her anyway. Nobody Doesn't Like Raych or Nobody Does it Like Raych - they're both true. And now, reviewlettes (because I've been a book-finishing fool lately and can't be bothered to properly review them).

A Clash of Kings by George R. R. Martin (aka #2 in The Game of Thrones series)

I was so physically drained by all the dark and cold after reading book 1 that I took almost a year before tackling book 2. This time, much better. It ends in a good spot, so I could pick up the next one right away or wait awhile. I'm not going to go into plot because I don't like spoilers, but I will say that there's much fighting and war-making among those clashing kings. And also it's cold. And winter is coming. I loved highlighting passages with my new kindle, and here's one for you:

The years pass in their hundreds and their thousands, and what does any man see of life but a few summers, a few winters?  We look at mountains and call them eternal, and so they seem . . . but in the course of time, mountains rise and fall, rivers change their courses, stars fall from the sky, and great cities sink beneath the sea. Even gods die, we think. Everything changes. (331)

That's the beauty of this series. It's compelling and fantastical and scintillating; but it's also lovely and thought-provoking.

Hitty, Her First Hundred Years by Rachel Field (1930 Newbery Medal winner)

This book is written from the perspective of Hitty, an antique doll looking back on her hundred years of experience. She takes us along on her many adventures, some more far-fetched than others (hello, doll as icon to island "savages"), but all are fascinating peeks into pieces of history. It was a perfect readalong for my child because it was interesting and smart and about a doll, while also being a bit more dense and with more advanced vocabulary than she's accustomed to. She's a wide and deep and constant reader, but she probably would not have finished this one on her own. Like so many of the earlier Newberys, it could be a rather difficult read, but it is a rewarding one.

Wild by Cheryl Strayed

When Mollie reviewed this one the other day, I walked right out of my office (in the library) into the stacks and grabbed it off the shelves. I'd heard of it, like the rest of the reading world, but I hadn't been compelled to read it until that review. Was it the Mary Oliver quote - one of my favorites? Or was it the reminder of how much we love to hike? I'm not sure, but I'm glad I pulled this one off the shelves. As you probably know, it is Strayed's memoir about her experience hiking part of the Pacific Coast Trail (PCT) a few years after her mother died. I'll admit it was not a perfect book. Some of the details (mostly of a sexual nature) seemed to me unnecessary, but they were central to her experience, so they had to be there. The hiking was good although I felt about her much the way I felt about McCandless of Into the Wild fame. Why, for the love of all things holy, did it take someone so long to help her lighten her pack? Why didn't she know to do it herself? It suits her personality, but it is almost impossible to imagine someone planning such a big experience without learning at least those basics. I mean, she knew how to use a water purifier but not how to pack her pack? Despite the small annoyances, it was a good book, and I especially enjoyed the way it got me moving on something we've talked about for years but haven't quite been ready for: our family is going to start a section-hike of the AT this year. So, thanks, Mollie. And thanks, Strayed. We've bought our map and will have our own grand adventure!

2011 Caldecott and Newbery Medal Awards and Honors

Regular readers of this blog know something of my mild fascination (see here or here or even sort of here for evidence) with these awards for children's literature.  Perhaps you assume it is because I have small children?  Though it makes perfect sense, my kids are not the root of my love of children's literature.  Perhaps it's because I'm a teacher? I did cultivate my particular leaning toward this body of work during my brief stint as a teacher of upper elementary and middle school students, but as I teach university students now, my job-related exposure to this works is practically nil.  Perhaps it's because I have always loved to read, and I read many of these as a child?  I think we're getting closer here because, certainly, the nostalgia factor can't be ignored.  I think, though, it is something more than nostalgia.  I think writing for a younger audience opens an author to create in a unique way, and when it is successful, it is supremely successful.

Consider E. B. White's Charlotte's Web.  I have gushed over this book before, about my children's responses to it.  But I believe wholeheartedly that this book is wonderful for more than just its appeal to children.  Adults everywhere will tell you how important it is (not just was) to them.  There are countless others, too.  Take a look at Brenna's post at Literary Musings about kids' books; the comments make my point for me. 

And though there are detractors and areas of certain failing, the Newbery Medal and Caldecott Medal recipients often are excellent representations of the best of the best in children's lit.  January brought us the announcement of the 2011 award winners and honor books, and though I try to pay attention to these things, I was caught off guard by almost all the selections.  See the list below:

Newbery Medal - Moon over Manifest by Clare Vanderpool


Honors - Turtle in Paradise by Jennifer L. Holm
Heart of a Samurai by Margi Preus
Dark Emperor and Other Poems of the Night by Joyce Sidman
One Crazy Summer by Rita Williams-Garcia

Caldecott Medal - A Sick Day for Amos McGee by Phillip Stead, illustrated by Erin E. Stead

Honors - Dave the Potter: Artist, Poet, Slave by Laban Carrick Hill, illustrated by Bryan Collier

Interrupting Chicken written and illustrated by David Ezra Stein

I have read exactly none of these.  How humbling.  The Stein was on my radar at least, but I didn't consider it a contender.  The Vanderpool is a debut novel (What an amazing trip that must be!).  Turtle in Paradise has been highly recommended to me.  But to have read none of these books, even with weekly trips to the library and regular consideration of such things, is just evidence to me of the wonder and beauty of children's books.  That's why I love these awards.  Try as I may, I can't read everything, and I bet at least one of these will change me in some important way.  Had they not been granted this distinction, I might never have had the honor of reading them.  So, I have my list; I must go see what my libraries have available.  What about you?  Do you have comments on any of these?  What about past winners or honorees?  Do you have favorites?  Let's share some kid book love, people!

Another Newbery Medal Winner

I promised a commentary on Emma Donoghue's Room, but it is upstairs in the bedroom where my son is asleep, and I don't want to risk disturbing him to fetch it.  Also, I finished The View From Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg this evening, so I will provide a brief word on it instead and continue teasing about Room until another day.

Most who know me will recall that I have an unusual affinity for Newbery Award winners.  I own many and have read more than I own.  The complete list can be found through the ALA (American Library Association) website, and a quick look through them will undoubtedly bring to mind some of the favorite books of your youth.  Konigsburg's 1968 winner From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler was a great love of mine (although I want to reread it because I can't remember much about it at all), but I had never read her The View From Saturday.  I saw it during our regular Monday visit to the library and decided to pick it up for our trip.  With the t.v. invariably on and many competing conversations, I am rarely ever to sustain the proper attention needed for a "serious" book during these visits, so I thought a YA book would be just the thing.  Turns out, I was mostly right and almost wrong.

The View From Saturday introduces you (in fits and starts) to Noah Gershom, Nadia Diamonstein, Ethan Potter, and Julian Singh, New York sixth graders who unexpectedly find success in their state's academic bowl competition.  Also a major contributor to the plot is the kids' teacher: Mrs. Olinski, who is a paraplegic returning to the classroom for the first time in the 10 years since the accident that paralyzed her.  Konigsburg uses a familiar although always interesting technique of developing the story through the individual voices and stories of her main characters.  The stories overlap in unexpected ways, and there are definite undertones of magical realism to be heard.  This book was a quick and entertaining piece that kept me curious about how all the pieces would fall together in the end, so in that way, I was right.

How was I wrong then?  Well, I finished the book a few minutes ago, and though it is an accessible book for middle grades students, I still feel like I should reread to better understand what Konigsburg is doing.  Those pieces that kept me puzzling throughout didn't fall as tidily as I might have expected, so I feel like I missed something.  Perhaps I did need to be able to pay better attention?  Konigsburg has allowed enough chinks to remain in this story to lead the reader to interpretation, and I think she has done so intentionally.  The plot is satisfactorily resolved, but some of the philosophical, ethical, or mystical elements are left to the reader to tease out.  I would need more time and effort (and less Transformers movie in the background) to tease them out at this point.

The quiet triumph of these oddballs is likely a welcome voice of encouragement for many potential outcasts in the terrifying world that is Middle School.  And though I admired no small portion of Konigsburg's writing and imaginative storyline, there were definite things to take issue with.  First is the annoying absence of contractions.  It's not a strict rule as some "it's" and "you're" usages slip in.  But the lack of "don't" or "won't" leaves the reader with the oddly unsettling voice of a sixth-grader saying

Tell her.  I do not care.  She knows every other thing about me.  Tell her.  And do not count on me for breakfast. I do not want any. (50)

A single quote can't quite convey how odd this sounds coming from a teenager.  The repetition of it, though, makes you wonder if it was an intentional technique to further distance these kids from normal or if Konigsburg merely operates under the outdated opinion that contractions should be avoided most of the time.  I could see a kid reader being merely annoyed by it.  I also had difficulty believing these kids would so easily fall together over a simple afternoon tea.  That's where you have to begin accepting the magical elements, but if you stumble there, you will have a terribly hard time getting anywhere else in the book.  Let me be clear though: I liked this book.  Perhaps not as much as some other books for young people that have knocked my socks off, but enough to keep my admiration for all things Newbery intact.

And speaking of books for young people that have knocked my socks off: I finally got to see the latest installment in the Harry Potter films last night, and I was well-pleased.  A few inconsistencies and only one that I thought was a poor directorial choice.  Strangest thing about it?  I spent the first thirty minutes or so feeling I was going to cry at any moment, even though it wasn't particularly sad.  Feeling emotional over the end of an era?  So not like me.  Hmmm. . . . .

I Heart Newbery Medals

Several years ago, I taught at a parent cooperative (read: hippie) school where I was responsible for a class of 2nd-4th graders.  My second year, I took my class of then 3rd-5th graders to join up with the middle schoolers in the afternoon.  That year, I assigned a big project where each student had to read and respond to one Caldecott Medal winner and one Newbery Medal winner.  Though I had read many of these wonderful books over the years, I certainly had not exhausted the list, and of course, many of my students chose books I hadn't yet read.  So, I spent my spring reading their choices.  Though I did not love every one I encountered, I was consistently pleased with the quality and thoughtfulness of the selections.  These lists contain many wonderful, tremendous books, including some of my (and probably your) all-time favorites: Bridge to Terabithia, Dear Mr. Henshaw, Jacob Have I Loved, The Witch of Blackbird Pond, Sarah, Plain and Tall, and of course A Wrinkle in Time.  Raise your hand if you didn't love A Wrinkle in Time.  Now, run and hide because the rest of us are coming after you. 

A Wrinkle in Time is one of the most magical, transformative books of our time.  I earnestly believe that.  And if you've read anything else by L'Engle, you'll know that everything she touches positively shimmers.  I am a fan, to say the least.  So, imagine my delight when I learned that this year's Newbery Medal Winner, Rebecca Stead's When You Reach Me, was centered loosely around and definitely inspired by L'Engle's classic work.  Here is an interview where she (sort of) explains the connection. 

So, last night, after finishing the Baldwin behemoth, I picked up When You Reach Me just to read the first chapter.  To get a taste, if you will.  Imagine my thrill to find myself still dressed and sitting in the relatively uncomfortable office chair some 50 pages later.  I finished this afternoon, and I am once again happily crowing about the Newbery committee and their impeccable taste.  This novel is suspenseful, creative, thoughtful, intelligent, and compelling.  I (the one who got The Sixth Sense almost immediately) couldn't explain it all until the very end.  Truth told, I had only the mildest inkling about most of the suspenseful elements.  I was so wrapped up in the whole story that only a tiny portion of my brain was concerning itself with "figuring it out."  It just didn't matter if I knew.  The story was taking me there, and I knew I could trust it.  So, where was this story taking me?  Well, I can't (or won't) tell you much.  The basic frame is that Miranda, a 6th grader in New York City, lives with her mom and goes to school.  One day, her best friend Sal gets hit in the face by a boy neither of them knows.  For reasons she can't understand, Sal stops being friends with Miranda after that day.  She then has to deal with making new friends, missing Sal, helping her mom prep for the $20,000 Pyramid, and the mysterious notes that someone is leaving for her.  Someone needs her help, but she doesn't know how to give it.  That's all I'm going to give you; you're just going to have to take my word for it.

Funny side note:  at some point last night, I flipped to the back and saw a publisher's synopsis.  I didn't read the top of the page, assuming it was a summary of this book's plot.  It refers to the book as "an intriguing look at how global warming is affecting the arctic regions, deftly woven into a coming-of-age story."  I was momentarily puzzled because in the 70 pages I had read to that point, there was nothing about global warming or the arctic.  I essentially shrugged and assumed we'd get to that.  Then, later it started really bugging me.  How in the heck could this be about global warming?  And then: did they put the wrong synopsis on the back of this book?  This went on for some time, but I was too engrossed in the story to read the back cover.  When I finally looked again, I had to laugh at myself.  Of course they did not put the wrong synopsis on this book; the top of the page says "Praise for First Light," which is apparently Stead's first novel.  Nice one there, super sleuth.  Kudos to your incredible powers of discernment.

Anyhow, this book was a remarkable breath of fresh air after the slogfest that was Tell Me How Long the Train's Been Gone.  Beyond that, it was seriously solid literature.  Thanks again, Newbery.  What about you?  Have a favorite Newbery winner?