Monday, November 30, 2020
Sunday, November 29, 2020
Saturday, November 28, 2020
She has to win the contest. First of all, the grand prize is a $25K cash prize and Libby wants more than anything to help her older sister and her husband out. They are in a financial tight spot and Libby knows that the money would make a world of difference, helping them to make a down payment on a new home. But there is another even more important reason: to prove that she can do it.
Libby has Turner Syndrome, a chromosomal deficiency, which causes numerous physical challenges for her. Through medication and therapy, she struggles to have a normal day. Facing bullying from classmates because of physical deformities makes things even harder. But Libby has learned to persevere and keep positive, summoning up examples like Cecilia Payne to get through the day.
This warm and inspiring story of a girl carrying a whole set of challenges with which to deal but a heart of pure gold hits all of the right spots. The pitch can stray a bit as she gets pedantic and teacherly, but there is something endearing about Libby's book smarts. Well read, but socially awkward (there's some intimation that she may be on the spectrum), she uses her knowledge bank to maneuver bravely through situations that she doesn't quite understand. She makes a few mistakes along the way and is prone to exaggerating her impact on other people's problems, but these flaws is largely sympathetic failings. With her big heart, Libby shows readers how to be kind without being a pushover, how to be smart without being a snob, and how to be brave without lashing out against others. While she may not always win her struggles, she's a pretty impressive runner up. As is this book.
[Fun side note: There's an excellent biography of Cecilia Payne with the same title for more advanced readers who want to learn more about Libby's inspiration]
Friday, November 27, 2020
From the start, Hannah obviously seems the least stable of the pair. Already struggling with staying clean, she befriends a drug dealer at school, who turns out in the end to be a pretty good guy (and gives up dealing along the way). Her role in the story is to attempt to stay sober, broken up periodically by relapses that throw the rest of the family into turmoil.
In comparison, Mae's the shining star. With an excellent academic record, she's heading to Annapolis to become a fighter pilot, a test pilot, and (eventually) an astronaut. But while Hannah's problems threaten to derail her, Mae is actually less in control than she imagines. The loss of her parents (and her father in particular) and the cruel reality that she might not be able to save her sister is nearly impossible for her to accept and this makes her ultimately the least stable of the sisters.
Along with the grieving process, family secrets come out that threaten the image of perfection that the girls had about their parents. Neither one of girls is particularly adept at handling this reality.
The result is a very long (and emotionally painful) novel that explores the many ways that hurting people can hurt each other further. It's not a particularly redeeming trip and one wonders if some of their issues couldn't have been resolved quicker with a pet or a good project to distract them and give them some purpose. Because, while their aunt and uncle encourage them to find things to do, it is obvious that Hannah prefers her drugs and Mae prefers having her sister to take care of. That makes for a pretty tiresome read. With lots of room to work with, the characters are really well developed and identifiable. I just didn't have much interest in them in the end.
The story is well written, with lovely philosophizing on topics ranging from Yoko Ono to the nature of the universe. But when your story is basically about two people trudging through grieving with nothing much to say beyond the fact that it's tough, you just don't have much of a literary purpose.
Wednesday, November 25, 2020
Meanwhile, the children have grown up. Tim has taken over Commander Melanoff's confectionary business, but that has fallen on hard times as the American Dental Association has managed to get candy outlawed. With possession of Lickety Twists now considered a felony, the fortunes of the family are about to collapse.
Tim's son, Richie has every toy one could want, but is lonely. He finds friendship next door with the impoverished (and aptly named) Poore children. Their father, an unsuccessful encyclopedia salesman has left the family with no means of support. To eke a living, they open a B and B which brings in some special guests. All these various chaotic pieces end up well enough in the end, in a way that Willoughbys always seem to do.
Sadly, the sequel is not nearly as charming as the original installment. The same rude Lemony Snicket-style humor of the original is present, but the clever satire is missing. In its place, the theme seems to be encyclopedias and a criticism of the modern obsession with technology, but this is neither very funny nor terribly original. In particular, Lowry has a peculiar notion of how much/little has changed in the past thirty years (microwave ovens and bed and breakfasts, for example, were already well known thirty years ago). The original's send-up of classic children's literature and it fancy archaic lexicon was timeless and done in love. This seems tired and less inspired.
Tuesday, November 24, 2020
An enormously tongue-in-cheek send up of classic children's literature, this short and clever satire is small parts Lemony Snickett and Edward Gorey, but mostly knowing winks. Highlights include the story's convoluted plot which comes together in the end through ridiculous coincidences that combine together the endings of a dozen classic novels. Throughout, various asides and non-sequiturs provide the opportunity to reflect upon deep matters like why helpful nannies are so easy to find and Swiss people are so helpful. The glossary of fancy words at the end and a hilarious annotated bibliography of the source material is worth the price of the book many times over. Brilliant satire and utterly wasted on modern children.
And now, after twelve years, with a sequel....
Monday, November 23, 2020
Neither girl has much trust and faith in adults, but while Suki hides and lays low, Della wants to take on the whole world. She's eager to testify in court against their abuser and she even fights back against a bully in school who is touching the girls inappropriately. She can't understand why her sister won't fight as well.
As a middle grade reader, this story of drug abuse, sexual abuse, and self-harm is pretty intense subject matter, but the book could find its audience with some guidance. The book contains a series of talking point questions at the back that could help adults guide children through this. Moreover, the story is full of supportive adults, which will help younger readers deal with the scary parts, but is also a problematic aspect of the book. Della and Suki's good fortune in finding grownups willing to fight for them isn't as common of an experience for young victims as we would like and seems mildly implausible. It's a fine line between wanting to make make this story appropriately reassuring for young readers, while still maintaining authenticity.
It's certainly powerfully written. I especially liked the idea of bring in the classroom bully as it pulls the story down into a microcosm that is easier to understand. A ten year old boy who doesn't comprehend why his fun is harmful makes a poignant contrast to the grownup bogeyman of the adult molester (who we never - thankfully - encounter in the story). The boy's mother's incomprehension of the danger of her son's behavior is chilling but sadly not explored. The overall message about the need to bring childhood sexual abuse into the open is well presented and the fact that it will make many readers uncomfortable is probably the most convincing argument for the importance of this book.
Sunday, November 22, 2020
Downstairs, in the apartment that they rent out, is Sawyer and his mother and little sister. Veronica knows Sawyer but they are not on good terms. Sawyer's part of a popular clique and he and his friends delight to tormenting Veronica and her friends. They shouldn't even be talking to each other, but Veronica has an intuition about him. When she finds herself needing a partner for their senior project, she reaches out to him. Sawyer, for reasons that mystify his friends, accepts.
But as far as surprises are concerned, Sawyer turns out to be much more complex than even Veronica could imagine. He's covering for his mother's erratic behavior, justifying her drinking, and trying to make everything look normal. Things are far from normal. Sawyer's getting injured and hurt, and the truth is that he's inflicting it on himself.
A girl with her mind set on dying and a boy being driven to self-destruction make a complex and powerful couple. The novel, which adds supernatural and historical elements (a diary written by a young woman dying of TB in 1918 plays a part) to its tale of addiction and learning to let go, is ambitious. Parts of it work well, others do not. It is difficult initially to see much of a connection between the two very different struggles that Veronica and Sawyer face, but it eventually comes together powerfully. The attempt to draw pathos from the historical tie-in to the diary and a nearby abandoned TB hospital falls resoundingly flat and contrived. It's not an easy read and may not be to many people's tastes, but I found it interesting, challenging, and ultimately rewarding.
Thursday, November 19, 2020
Aussie YA is seemingly always a challenge for me. For reasons I can't really explain, I leave more Australian YA novels unfinished than I complete. Usually, the storylines simply don't engage. It isn't so much the cultural differences but really the overly dense style that seems to predominate. This novel is no exception. I struggled throughout to track the action which jumps through a large number of parties and dramatic interactions with decisions and actions that don't instinctively make sense. But what made the book ultimately work for me was Natalie herself. I stopped worrying about what she was doing and spent more time listening to her.
Natalie is ostensibly as much of a navel-gazing angst-ridden teen girl as you will ever find in YA, but the extent to which she self-doubts and owns that doubting is adorable and outright hilarious. Natalie's fumbled seduction attempt on Alex had me in stitches. The best part of being witty and self-deprecating at the same time is that we can sympathize with her flaws and easily admit to the ones that we resemble far too closely. So, while I have only a vague sense of what the book was actually about, I loved the heroine!
Monday, November 16, 2020
Things don't start off propitiously. Everyone seems to know everyone else and queen bees Eleanor and Reese take a profound dislike towards her. Saving the day, moody dreamboat Maddox has eyes for her, although Eleanor is a jealous ex- and tries to keep them apart. That said, nothing is all that simple. Eleanor is blackmailing Maddox and hiding secrets from just about everyone. As the contest creeps closer, a sudden death sends everything into a frantic and tense conclusion.
While rooted in tired YA tropes (unsupervised summer campers get in big trouble while awkward and inexperienced girl gets an A-list boy to fall head over heels for her), the augmented reality stuff is kind of fun. InstaLove, combining Instagram and PokemonGo sounds plausible enough to make a fresh foundation. The story is paced well and the mystery largely maintained with a lot of distracting false leads to keep us off track. However, the ending gets rushed and overall I just didn't find Nora interesting enough, boy toy Maddox sexy enough, or Reese and Eleanor bad enough to make this worth recommending.
Saturday, November 14, 2020
When a contest in announced in LA for contestants in a new Korean entertainment competition, Skye is so psyched to be in it, but her mother won't even allow her to take part (her father has to step in to give permission). But sixteen years of being bullied and fatshamed has toughened Skye and she is determined to prove her mother, a bullying judge, and all the doubters in the world that fat girls can dance and sing and do it well! Along the way, she wins the heart of the cute boy and makes a great group of friends as well.
Its a story told in a rich cultural context. Not knowing much about K-pop, I surmise that the author has done her homework (and/or is a serious fan). She name drops plenty of real groups and songs, and tirelessly notes what makes particular songs significant. A similar love is given to Korean food and culture. For outsiders, this culture lesson is really the best part and is effortlessly delivered alongside the winning storyline.
In sum, this is a feel good romance about body positivity. There's no end to the trials that Skye endures ranging from thoughtless comments to outright emotional abuse, but Skye is a poster child for standing up for herself. One wonders exactly where she got this strength, but Lee's not terribly interested in exploring the sources for Skye's strength as she is in promoting the healthy result. There's a similar approach to the mother's cruel emotional abuse, which is ultimately and disappointingly side-stepped. The mother's behavior goes far beyond Tiger Mom stereotypes into darker spaces, but this is far too lighthearted of a book to dwell on anything truly serious. A rousing climax complete with song and dance and a curtly dismissed villainess wraps up the adventure satisfactorily.
Thursday, November 12, 2020
Searching for her mother, she ends up at a repurposed campground with people who have different ideas about how to live -- ideas that shock Ami and open up her horizons at the same time. The stories she was told growing up turn out to not be so true and the principles she has lived by turn out to not be so useful. Life is very much more complex than she ever imagined.
Like Ami's struggle with her perceived reality, my notions of what the template for a dystopian novel should got really shook up by this novel. I expected ruined towns, anarchic bandits, and some big final showdown with the family she left behind. Some of that happened, but not quite as I expected. No guns are fired. No zombies or enemy armies. No one dies in the entire book. And the bad guys are profoundly ineffectual and inconsequential. What I totally did not count on was the human coming-of-age story for Ami. Rather than action and adventure, the drama of the story comes a very sweet romance and a complex coming to terms between Ami and her mother. Both provide depth to this novel that takes the dystopian framework and crafts a profound story about exercising freedom of choice.
Monday, November 09, 2020
When Ben gets there he learns that Ani's been raped, but she can't remember what happened. Everyone else seems to know, however, and soon afterwards the rumors start spreading around the school. About what Ani did and how much fun she had doing it. Ben knows these are lies but they still hurt to hear. He wants to defend Ani and take care of her, but she won't let anyone help her. Instead, she closes off and pushes away all of her friends. And Ben watches helplessly as her life spins out of control, taking him down with her.
Dark and depressing with an ending that left me deeply unsatisfied, the novel is hard to like. I appreciated the nuanced portrayal of Ani and the depth of Ben's feelings. His struggle between acknowledging his own pain and the need to be supportive of Ani felt very immediate and sympathetic. Ben is a bit too much of a tough guy jock for my tastes, but he you feel for how he is way out of his depth. Not that any of his efforts really matter because Ani is pretty determined to be her own worst enemy. And that's largely what makes this book so hard to take. The story is not ultimately about rescuing Ani but about rescuing Ben, and I didn't really care as much about him.
Sunday, November 08, 2020
Chiswick has a large foreign student contingent, made up mostly of the children of diplomats. These golden kids flaunt their privilege and their unique ability to weasel out of trouble. It's diplomatic immunity, both in the literal sense or simply from the ability to invoke the names of their powerful parents to get out of tight situations. For scholarship kids like Piper, it all seems terribly unfair.
And then suddenly Piper realizes she has her story. Ingratiating herself with Raf, the son of the Spanish ambassador, she slips into the private world of expat parties, where alcohol and drugs flow freely. But as Piper collects her material, she finds herself growing close to Raf in a distinctly non-professional way. She realizes she has to choose between her ambition and her heart.
A well written, but mostly by-the-numbers YA romance. Nothing really shouts out in this story. The characters are fine but break no major new territory. The romance has some nice moments but doesn't particularly heat up. The scandal and action are slow moving. It reads fast but doesn't deliver any notable punch.
Saturday, November 07, 2020
Meanwhile, it doesn't take long until some of the students in her school track down her past and soon the harassment resurfaces. The attacks spread beyond her to encompass her friends and her family. As they do, Anna is struck by the similarities between her situation and that of the subject of her study. A series of historical flashbacks help make the parallels clearer. The school, unable and unwilling to help Anna, allow the bullying to continue until Anna and her mother finally stand up to it. The witch fares less well.
British YA tends to be pretty heavy handed, especially with hot button social topics like this, but I was actually pleased at how few polemics were in this story. While I am shocked at the ineffective adults and the non-existence of law enforcement (does Scottish law tolerate child porn more than the US?), it does permit Anna to defend herself, which is ultimately more fulfilling. The juxtaposition of Anna and Maggie (the accused witch) is surprisingly effective. It lack historical integrity, but serves its literary purpose quite well providing a stark parallel in how latent misogyny tends to emerge in mob rule situations. No real surprises in other words, but if it fires up a couple young readers, then no foul! Helpful discussion questions provided at the end of the book for those young people who are forced to read this instead.
Wednesday, November 04, 2020
I Love You So Mochi follows Kimi's trip to Kyoto, ostensibly to meet her maternal grandparents and get some distance from her mother, with whom she is currently fighting. The love interest is Akira, a young man helping his uncle sell mochi balls, but who dreams of studying to become a doctor. Kimi doesn't know what she wants to do with her life, but she does know that she doesn't want to be a painter, even though she's been accepted to an art school. That decision, with surprised both her and her mother, is why things have grown so tense between them. But what else could she do when it was clear that art did not bring her joy?
As far as her actual desires are concerned, the only thing that Kimi really likes doing is designing outfits for herself and her friends. Why this doesn't occur to her as a career choice until half-way through the book is a mystery, but it at least provides a pretext over which Kimi and Akira can bond.
The story is full of lots of cultural detail and given some emotional punch by the strained dynamics between Kimi, her mother, and her grandparents, but one can't escape a sense that this is playing safely by a formula. Family conflict, romance, and the requisite cultural detail are all inserted at the right spots and worked through appropriately. Grandparents are charming, boy is amazingly supportive, and BFFs at home are peripheral. It's a charming read, but there are no surprises and, aside from the local flavor, not much value imparted.
Monday, November 02, 2020
A poignant and often painful novel of a young girl with a serious self-esteem problem. While I'm hardly an expert in African-American YA, Colorism is a delicate and uncommon subject and I liked the treatment here. For me, it opened a window on a world I have never seen. For young readers of color, it could possibly mean even more.
Genesis can be a bit hard to take. She often is her own worst enemy in her harsh self-judgements. She's makes poor decisions and has trouble accepting responsibility (a trait that she insightfully realizes is learned from her father). She's often not as kind or as loyal as she ought to be. But she has a great sense of inner strength and stands up for herself. Her journey from self-loathing to qualified acceptance is realistically portrayed and fulfilling to share.