I have a confession to make - I am probably a small town girl at heart. Or possibly a medium city girl at the most. This might surprise those of you who know that I lived in San Diego until I was 21. Or those of you who know me from my time living in Phoenix - both big cities. I do love the benefits of living in a big city - the shopping (an actual mall!), the arts (very few bands make Helena a tour stop!)! But I also really appreciate many of the things this small town showcases. And I'm comfortable here. When I was in college, I took a train from Virginia to Massachusetts. I had to switch trains in New York City. Granted, I never left the actual station, but even that experience intimidated me. I've never wanted to go back. So I feel a lot of admiration for books with characters who treat New York City so casually - who have, indeed, conquered it. It's one of the things I mentioned in my review of Starry Night. And that confident independence (something I could never imitate) is what strikes me about Lost in NYC: A Subway Adventure.
It begins like any other school day for these tweens. They emerge from the subway, thinking about the field trip that day. And then there is Pablo, whose parents are hovering over him, worrying because it is his first day at this school. He tugs away from them to enter school on his own, saying "Please just go away!" But in true mom fashion, his mother gets in the last word, announcing loudly and in public that she's packed Pablo's teddy bear into his backpack in case he gets lonely. I can feel Pablo's cringing embarrassment from all these thousands of miles away.
Pablo is part of the class going on the field trip, and Alicia volunteers to be his partner for the trip. It starts off poorly, with the other kids teasing them. Then the teacher engages the class in a discussion of their favorite subway trains, since they will be traveling on one to the Empire State Building. When all the other students rattle off their preferred subway lines, Pablo takes a calculated risk and volunteers the X train. That starts the rest of the class off into giggles again, since everyone else knows there is no X train. Pablo has attracted the wrong sort of attention.
But their teacher smoothly moves on from Pablo's mistake, giving lots of facts about both the construction of the subway system and the Empire State Building. As the class makes their way down to the subway platform, Alicia asks Pablo where he's from. Pablo replies "Nowhere. My dad has to move a lot for his job." Alicia asks Pablo "But where is HOME for you?" He replies angrily "NOWHERE!", and Alicia states the obvious "Then I guess New York is your home now!" Pablo huffs "Whatever." You can already see their emotions about the day in this exchange - Pablo is overwhelmed and negative; Alicia upbeat and positive.
As they enter the platform, the teacher is explaining the difference between express and local trains. The platform fills with commuters - talking, walking, checking their phones. Alicia takes the opportunity to show Pablo a map, so he can familiarize himself with the subway system. Just as she drags him over, though, the rest of the class boards a local train (which makes additional stops). In a moment of panic, Pablo grabs Alicia to rush her to the train. But they have rushed onto the wrong train. The teacher gestures wildly at them, hoping that they will get off at the next stop the two trains share. In the meantime, Pablo and Alicia argue over whose decision got them separated from the rest of the class.
The panicked decision-making from Pablo and Alicia only continues throughout their travels. They are impulsive and worried, jumping from train to train. At this point in the story, this mother was worrying about their safety. But at least Alicia is a city kid, comfortable with the maze of subways. Pablo has the sheer determination to conquer the new school and the subway. The thing they need to succeed in reuniting with their class: each other. Can they work together and maybe even become friends?
As much of the story fascinates me, being as far from my children's life experiences as can be, what amazes me about Lost in NYC are the layered, thoughtful illustrations. The series that TOON Books began publishing last fall is called TOON Graphics for Visual Readers, and I think Lost in NYC is one of the best examples of this series. Let's start with the endpapers.
The front set of endpapers shows a cropped section of the NYC Subway map, including parts of Manhattan, Brooklyn and Queens. It has the stops marked in bold black font and the trains in different colors. The subway lines interweave on the map, showing how commuters get where they need to go. It's a traditional subway map - one that is most likely available at any stop to stash in your pocket. It is the same map posted on the wall in the subway station where the class loses Alicia and Pablo. On the back endpapers, the students' trip is shown. The scale is off - the children are as big as buildings - but this is purposeful. You can spot Alicia, Pablo, and their class throughout this map as they travel. It's whimsical and suits the story perfectly. Pablo, for instance, enters a subway car at one height, then in the next car, he fills the car completely, looking a little scared and out of his depth. It also shows Alicia, the class and Pablo all converging on the Empire State Building. I like this slightly different perspective on the map of their journey - it feels a little more emotional. It gives readers a unique view of how they all got to their destination.
As we all know, there are millions of people in New York City, Sanchez has the challenge of drawing the crowd of people surrounding Pablo and Alicia throughout the book, but to also keep the readers' attention. Many people are dressed in muted colors, so that Alicia (dressed in pink and green) and Pablo (in blues) stand out. But the commuters also have lots of individual details that draw the eye - absorbed in their phones as they wait, shuffling along in single-file lines, listening to headphones, reading - there are lots of terrific details when the reader pores over the illustrations.
One of the other very cool things about this book is the way it incorporates photographs and New York City history into the graphic novel format. When the teacher begins to give information to the class in preparation for their trip, the class is shown on a map of the subways (again, much like the one in the front of the book). The teacher explains how the subways were constructed at the turn of the century, which included digging trenches for the trains. As he describes the construction process, the students perch on the edges of newly dug trenches. This double-paged spread is also filled with historic photographs of the subways being built - another way for students to visualize what happened then.
Finally, this book does not disappoint in back matter either. TOON always has great information in its back matter, and Lost in NYC is perfect. There is a fascinating behind-the-scenes section about Sanchez's trip to New York City and how he found all the details included in the book. There are also pages on the subway system's history and the subway system today. Finally, there is a brief history of the Empire State Building and of course, a bibliography. It is especially helpful that the books in the bibliography are provided with age ranges to help guide readers.
As always, these books are quality products, elegantly designed, but with an appeal to children. Even here in our little town of Helena, Frances and Gloria have read and re-read Lost in NYC. I hope you will too!
Lost in NYC: A Subway Adventure. Nadja Spiegelman and Sergio Garcia Sanchez. TOON Graphics, 2015.
sent by the publisher for review
I have been an Isabel Gillies fangirl for a long time. When I was separating from my husband a few years ago, I discovered her memoir, Happens Every Day. Even though the circumstances were very different, I took solace in her words. Even though I knew I was doing the right thing, she too had felt that odd heartbreak and grief in saying goodbye to what she believed her life would be and greeting something very different. She felt like the much cooler older sister that I never had, whose wisdom and pain I could learn from. I reread Happens Every Day earlier this year, because I had just read her newer piece, A Year and Six Seconds. I put them on hold at our library, and it was then that I discovered that she had just published a young adult novel. I put that book on hold immediately, hoping I would love it just as much.
When it came in, I started it right away. I quickly realized that I had another problem. I couldn't stop reading it, yet didn't want it to end. It has some of my favorite elements of young adult fiction in its pages - romance and school - along with fascinating characters, an amazing setting, and parents who are cool but also know how to set boundaries with their children. It feels like a big, giddy whoosh of a book, but it also has the pinprick of real emotions. I couldn't get enough!
The story centers on Wren Noorlander. At 15, she seems to be sailing through life on the outside. She has a very tight-knit group of friends - Vati, Reagan, Farah, and Charlie. Wren is an amazing artist with a blossoming talent. She is secure in her place at her private girls' school, knowing she has a great talent, but still having to work very hard in other subjects. Wren has an older brother, Oliver, who is a senior in high school. Despite the fact that he is getting older, and beginning to become slightly unknowable, he still has a strong relationship with Wren. And their younger sister, Dinah, is a pre-teen with a cooking show on Food TV. But all three siblings are also quite normal. The next quote is a little out of context, but it illustrates Wren and Dinah perfectly: "...then the door at the top of the stairs flung open to reveal Dinah, still in her uniform, hand on her hip, head cocked to the side. 'You are going down!' she announced, not looking surprised at all that Nolan was standing there. I glared at her. 'Is Mom home?' I whispered loudly as I trotted up. 'Oh yeah, she is, and she's on fire. She had to start knitting because you are so late! It's a total ten.'" (p. 157) This sample is so big sister-little sister that it still makes me laugh.
And then there are Wren's parents. They have interesting jobs to start with - Wren's mom has a pottery studio, Wren's dad is the director of the Metropolitan Museum of Art. No big deal, just the Metropolitan Museum of Art! They are sophisticated, live in a large brownstone in New York City. But here's what I love about the Noorlanders: they don't take all the opportunities they are afforded for granted. They see all the amazing things they are lucky enough to give their children and they are clear about what those opportunities require of all of them. Wren tells readers about how Dinah gets her own cooking show: "...Bravo called to say they were interested in having Dinah host a thirty minute cooking show. Mom was repelled, but Dad, who is more relaxed about publicity and media and sort of everything, convinced Mom that it would only be good for Dinah. I remember him saying at dinner, 'Nan, love, it's a wonderful life experience for her. I don't see how we can stand in her way.' My mother protested, 'I can stand directly in her way, David. She is only NINE!'" (p. 27). I read quite a bit of young adult fiction, and the parents are primarily absent, physically or emotionally. Wren's parents may not know every single thing their children do, but they have a pretty good idea of what's happening in their lives. I really like how connected Wren's parents are to Wren. They may not always make the easiest or most popular choice for their children, and they are okay with it. They are always there to supervise what's happening and support their children when they need it. As a parent, I love their example. It's a hard road to follow, but they put in the effort.
It's funny to me that I have gotten this far in my review without summarizing the plot. One of Oliver's newer friends, Nolan, comes over to the Noorlander house after school one day. Oliver, Nolan, Wren and her friends (Vati, Reagan, Farah and Charlie) have all been invited to their first Metropolitan Museum of Art opening. It is a huge deal and the girls are besides themselves with excitement. Then Wren meets Nolan, and things shift dramatically. "' Who are you?' Now this might sound weird, but Nolan's 'who are you?' did not come out badly...it was more like he was asking because he was enchanted with me, so that was wild - and nobody had ever asked me who I was before, so I was way into it." (p. 88) And she's off, muddling through her first love. Wren and Nolan make some bad choices in their longing to be together, but those choices aren't totally terrible. The night of the opening, Nolan talks Wren into ditching the party (and her parents) to go to a club and go dancing. The consequences of that impetuous decision leaves Wren grounded and without a phone for weeks. But it also leads to sweet scenes like this: "'Isn't it weird, how yesterday we didn't know each other, and now we are each other's person?' Nolan mused as he walked through the gates into Central Park." (p. 154).
One character I haven't yet mentioned in this post so far is the city of New York. It is so interwoven into the story that it feels like another person. After the above scene, Nolan and Wren stand under the echo bridge in Central Park and share their experiences of the bridge. It bonds them - one of those initial moments in a relationship when everything seems to be identical in your lives up until you met. But Nolan and Wren's relationship takes place in front of the city's backdrop: "We rode the 1 train up Broadway and he told me about his parents' divorce as the train rocked and screeched into station after station all the way to Eighty-Sixth Street." (p. 116) "The air felt loaded in New York City. It was one of those days that you feel not only that the temperature will drop but that something tremendous is going to happen. It was a Monday in November and the sky was so blue it was violet, uninterrupted by clouds." (p. 4) It's an amazing setting for me, living in a small(ish) Montana town with not a subway in sight. For readers in most of the country, the teens' lives feel a little glamorous, full of a different sort of freedom that we ever taste as Wren and her friends casually move about the city. For readers from New York City, I suspect it feels very accurate and real.
One of Gillies' strengths as a writer is her knack for the small details that make up our lives. Wren describes her home like this: "There are Persian rugs running down the halls, and under those rugs the beaten-up floors are made from smooth, wide wooden planks. Photographs and paintings hang on the walls from the floor to the ceiling, all mixed up." (p. 50) Their home is eclectic yet cozy and you can feel its essence through Gillies' description. Her writing is very concrete and real.
What I also love is how strong Wren's voice is throughout this novel. Wren is often wrong about things, but she commits to a plan of action wholeheartedly. "I spent the next long time lost, feverishly drawing a barn owl rocketing into the night sky, shooting up, wings spread wide, soaring up up up and off the paper with one hundred of her feathers fluttering in the headwind. If Oliver came upstairs, I didn't know it. He might have come up and decided not to bother me. I was somewhere far away." (p. 170-1) Wren is full of giddy love, excitement, strongly held beliefs and emotions. She is so endearing, and as the story unfolds, my heart broke for her in several different circumstances.
There is one other thing about Wren that I wanted to call attention to in this review. In the beginning of the novel, while talking with her friends, Wren notes "I can never get names until at least ten minutes after I need them. It's one strain of my other learning disorder: dysnomia. I have that along with the dyslexia, dysgraphia, and a dollop of ADD." (p. 31). Wren's learning disorders are definitely not the focus of this novel, but they are part of her too. She has strategies to help her manage these: "...trying to zip up my backpack and go through the mental list that I am supposed to go through every time I leave the school so I don't space on anything." (p. 146). Wren is matter of fact about the side effects of these - her impulsivity and her ability to focus on just one thing like her art are two sides of the same coin. This story isn't about that struggle for Wren, but I like how it is presented here - as one small part of the whole.
I haven't even scratched the surface of the events of this novel, or the emotions contained within it. But I'll encourage you to read this, to hear more about the Noorlander family and Wren's group of friends. And I'll beg Isabel Gillies to keep writing about Wren and her friends, because I never want to leave their world.
Starry Night. Isabel Gillies. Farrar, Strauss & Giroux, 2014.
Borrowed from the Lewis & Clark library
I recently found an old email recommending several good picture books from 2007. While I was familiar with the authors of all three books, I wasn't familiar with the books themselves, so I interlibrary-loaned them. The one that I loved the most of this set was Old Penn Station by William Low. Perhaps it struck a chord because of its format - it is definitely a nonfiction picture book. Nonfiction picture books are more important to me these days because of my current work as a Cybils panelist. But whatever the reason. I want to share it with you.
Low includes an author's note at the beginning of the book, explaining why he was so interested in Old Penn Station. He began to create the paintings for this book as part of a thesis project. Low had always loved New York City and its history, and Old Penn Station is evocative of both of these.
Low takes the history of this station and distills it into sentences that are easily accessible for even kindergarten students. There are only one or two sentences per page, but they give you the feel of the station as it was built, and, eventually, torn down. For those of you who may not be familiar with it (like me), the Pennsylvania Railroad Company created the original Penn Station to have a station presence in New York. It was designed to make a grand statement, and no expense was spared in its creation. Eventually, however, as commuting changed, people were not using trains and the gorgeous Penn Station was torn down. It was replaced by the current underground station.
Low used oil paintings to depict the station in all its facets. One of the things that Low mentions about his own work on his website and in a video located on the website about the making of this book) is his love of light. He looks for places to include light sources, and in this book the use of light is amazing. Light and shadows are everywhere - making you realize how truly beautiful the old station was. The most jaw-dropping picture to me is the title page painting. Workers pose in front of a stone sculpture at the station, and half the painting (and half the group) is in shadow, the other half bathed in warm light. It's almost as if a drop cloth is being pulled off a sculpture or painting, exposing it to the light. It is a magical effect.
One of the themes Low emphasizes in this book is work and the pride workers took in what they had created. There were many, many people who toiled to create this station. There were tunnel workers who burrowed under the Hudson River, stone masons who carved sculptures and hundreds of construction workers involved. Once the station was built, there were still many workers involved in a traveler's experience within Penn Station. Low highlights these workers as well - the shoeshine man, the porter, the wait staff, the conductors. The expressions on their faces show their pride, their dedication to their work. You can see how much they love working in the station. It is not only a history of the station, but also a history of work as many of these jobs are no longer as prevalent.
Another thing Low does in this book is make the concept of historical preservation understandable for very young readers. We see many of the stone sculptures that stone masons carved throughout the book. But Low focuses on one of the stone maidens throughout the destruction of Penn Station. As the text describes the Pennsylvania Railroad Company's belief that the old Penn Station needed to be torn down in order to modernize it, you see the stone maiden over and over again. Readers admire her luminosity and grace in the beginning of the book, along with admiration for the hard work of the stone mason. Then as the stone maiden is hauled away to rest unceremoniously in a dump, readers become aware of the loss and sadness in this process. You feel palpable sorrow as the maiden is hoisted off the building. Low talks in his video about his anger at the destruction, but there is also grief in the paintings. Low goes on to describe the founding of the New York City Landmarks Preservation Commission and its importance in protecting the rest of the city's historical landmarks. I think this is a perfect place for teachers to draw connections between New York City and their own towns, It is so important to preserve history and to make children aware of what history can teach us.
Low includes a bibliography at the end of this history, so teachers can extrapolate more information to use with their students. Unfortunately, it seems that the majority of these sources are adult books, but there are always ways to use the photos and other primary sources.
This book has come from Low's heart, and it is especially rich for all of his emotion about Penn Station. I hope you will take time to admire this glorious book and honor this part of New York City's history.
Old Penn Station. William Low. Henry Holt & Co., 2007.
borrowed on interlibrary loan
