Hold Fast

I wish I could remember who mentioned Hold Fast first.  I read a lot of blogs that mention children's literature, and I apologize for the fact that I can't remember who it was.  But they mentioned that the book was about homelessness and that it was written by Blue Balliett.  I read both Chasing Vermeer and The Wright 3 when they came out, but I hadn't read anything since then.  I thought this book sounded like it was something I wanted to try.  So I put it on hold, and then finally picked it up at the library.

The reason it appealed to me especially was because of its subject matter.  My cubicle at the MT Office of Public Instruction is quite close to our State Coordinator for Homeless, Neglected and Delinquent Education's desk.  I've heard her advocate for homeless children over and over again.  And I was hoping this book would make this situation real for children all over, while also being something children who are currently homeless would also be able to relate to.  I think Balliett scored on both points.

The book begins with the Pearl family.  There is Dash (Dashel) - the father, Sum (Summer) - the mother, and Early and Jubilation.  Early is in fifth grade, and Jubilation (who is mostly called Jubie) is still at home with Sum at four years old.  The Pearls' life is not easy - there is only one income, and that isn't very much.  Dash works at the Chicago Public Library as a Library Page.  Balliett says "The Pearl family rents the biggest apartment they can afford.  It is one room." (p. 8)  There isn't much there, but what is there is crucial to their growth and survival - words and books.  Dash often says to his children "'Words are free and plentiful'" (p. 6).  They use their library to its fullest extent - checking out books upon books and absorbing them.  They are learners.

But money is scarce, and when Dash is asked to do a side job, for which he's paid in cash, he agrees.  It's book-related, but has an air of mystery about it.  And then, one day, on his way home from work, Dash disappears off the street.  All that's left is his bicycle, a notebook, and a bag of groceries.  What could have happened to Dash?  Is he even still alive?

While Sum and Early are trying to find out what happened to Dash, they are visited by people claiming to be the police.  The "police" break down their door and rip apart all of the Pearl family's belongings.  Oddly, the "police" take all of the family's books, except one that got pushed under the coffee table.  It's rescued by Early - it is a book her father saved for her, Langston Hughes' The First Book of Rhythms.  At this point, the family doesn't feel safe in their home any longer (and the apartment is totally destroyed).  A neighbor tells Sum "' You and the babies shouldn't be where they can find you again.  No place near.  You best get you to a city shelter..." (p. 60).  The family has nowhere else to go, and any money they had was taken by the criminals.

I don't want to give away the plot's twists and turns because they are intricate and well-done, just like all of Balliett's books.  What interested me about this book were its two main themes - homelessness and books/reading/words/libraries.

The family's time in the shelter is difficult, for sure.  When they first arrive, they are placed in a large room of bunkbeds, called a cluster, crammed with families.  Balliett is compassionate in her descriptions, but realistic too.  The rules are laid out in a matter of fact way by the director" "Know where your kids are at all times, and never leave the shelter without them... You can use the shelter phone to make fifteen minutes of calls anytime between nine A.M. and four P.M....patience and politeness go a long way.  Everyone's call is important." (p. 82-3).  There is no privacy, but there are shelter residents who hold fast to their kindness and generosity, even in bad situations.

The shelter tests the Pearl family's strength.  Already frazzled beyond the breaking point and worried about Dash, Sum is trying to make calls - both to notify people of their whereabouts and also to try and find some job to sustain them.  But even after Sum waits in the endless phone line, she quite often has to leave messages, and there is no way for anyone to call her back.  The family is required to eat meals at specific times, and if they miss a meal, there is nothing else to eat, so the Pearl family also has to shuffle errands around their meal times.  It is constantly noisy, even at night.  Sum is beginning to shut down, and stop functioning.

Early and Jubie are the ones who "hold fast" - to their belief in finding Dash, and to their belief that they will get out of this shelter.  As Sum begins to give in to her depression, the Pearl children, particularly Early, encourage Sum to hold fast and keep fighting.  "Hold fast" comes from a Hughes poem in The First Book of Rhythms.  The words of that poem inspire Early to dream: "Dig down, fly high, remember where you want to go, and one day you'll get there: Roots + Wings + Dreams = Home!" (p. 42-3).  She, like many children, is resilient enough to take this experience and use it to propel her forward, instead of collapsing under its weight.

Of course, as a former librarian, I love any book that incorporates books and reading into its pages.  But this one does so much more than that.  It is instilled in almost every word of this book, and Balliett does that with such love and tenderness.  Reading is what saves this family over and over again.  Balliett writes about their relationship with words and books so beautifully.  "Dashel Pearl offered words to his kids from the day they were born.  A man who loved language almost as much as color or taste or air, he explained to his daughter, Early, that words are everywhere and for everyone." (p.6)  "This was a family of important words and their important histories." (p. 15)  This family has little besides words, but to them, words are all that matter.

This book is sad, joyous, scary and thoughtful.  It is chock full of energy, compassion, misery and struggle.  But most importantly, it is full of reading, learning, and the love of words all wrapped up in a mystery.  Don't miss it.

Hold Fast.  Blue Balliett.  Scholastic Press, 2013.

borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Abe Lincoln's Dream

Abraham Lincoln has been the topic of much discussion lately. Of course, there was the multiple-Oscar nominated movie, with its Oscar-winning best actor.  I've already blogged about Looking for Lincoln, a book which gave facts about Abraham Lincoln a new, postmodern twist.  And here at the Murray house, Abraham Lincoln has taken on a great deal of importance since Presidents' Day.  Frances' teacher told her Kindergarten class some of Lincoln's biography, and she's been talking about him ever since.  We see a ramshackle wooden shed on the side of the freeway, and that is Lincoln's childhood log cabin home.  I've heard many times that his mother died when he was nine years old.  A few days ago, we were on our way home from dinner, and Gloria wanted me to turn on the car's interior light so she could color.  I explained that it was against the law, and Frances piped up and asked whether Abraham Lincoln made that law too.  Clearly, Abraham Lincoln is an important historical figure to Frances!

This picture book begins with the dogs.  The narrator mentions that three of last century's presidential dogs would not enter "that room".  The afterword explains that "that room" was the Lincoln Bedroom.  The narrator goes on to say that people saw his ghost on February 12th, but everyone was wearing stovepipe hats and beards (although astute readers will easily pick out the ghost peering out from behind a curtain).  Then a young girl named Quincy slips away from her school tour and sees the ghost of Abraham Lincoln poring over the Gettysburg Address.  They really see and acknowledge each other.  He tells her a couple of corny jokes and she politely laughs.  Lincoln admits during their conversation that he continues to have the same dream, over and over again: "It's always the same.  I'm on a ship sailing repeatedly for some shore I know not where."  Lincoln has been pacing through the White House while they've talked, with Quincy scrambling to catch up with his long legs.  He apologizes for being so restless, but tells her "...there was so much to do beyond 1865.  Our union was so fragile, so uncertain.  Like that ship on the rocky sea."  Quincy (and the reader) realizes that Lincoln has stayed because he doesn't know how things have turned out in history.  Quincy takes Abraham Lincoln on a flight around the world (Lincoln doing the flying), giving him updates along the way.  Later that night, the narrator says, Quincy herself has a dream.  "She dreamed of a man, a tall man in black, on a boat moving rapidly toward the rising sun."  It is, of course, Abraham Lincoln, with his worries and burdens now lightened, who is sailing off towards the sun.

This book is clever in a number of ways.  One of the ways I find it most clever is very subtle, and in fact took me several readings to discover and appreciate.  The book is titled Abe Lincoln's Dream, but his name is never mentioned in the text.  The President is referred to only as "he", or once as "the ghost", although he is described in all the traditional ways we've come to associate with Lincoln: the stovepipe hat and beard, tall, dressed in black.  The narrator comments the first time Quincy sees Lincoln: "He was dressed in black from hat to boot, but she wasn't frightened; he had a long face that made her feel sorry for him."  These descriptions are all things we know about Lincoln.  And of course, there are other textual references to his history as President.  The jokes, the references to 1865, his admiration of the Gettysburg Address and his question about whether the states are united all point to his identity without Smith having to name him at all.  And because of the preponderance of textual and illustrative clues, I can't help but wonder how many readers actually fail to notice that the ghost is unnamed.

Of course, Lane Smith's illustrations also help identify Lincoln.  Smith does an incredible job of walking the fine line between evoking the actual man himself and creating a character for this story.  His tall black stovepipe hat, his grasshopper-like legs and neatly trimmed beard all echo the portraits of Abraham Lincoln we can all call to mind.  The facial expressions, though, are pure Lane Smith.  My favorite one is when Abraham Lincoln throws his hand to his forehead, eyes closed, head bent back in a dramatic fashion.  The text at that moment is serious, but the look makes readers smile.  Similar to John, Paul, George & Ben, Smith takes a historical figure and pokes a little fun at him.  There is a lightness to much of this book that contradicts the sadness in Lincoln's long face.

Lane Smith is comfortable creating in that gray area between fact and fiction.  As I mentioned previously, the first pages of the book include several dogs owned by other presidents.  Smith cites each of the dogs, their Presidents(and which President they were), giving authenticity to the picture book.  But the most stunning fact of all is the fact that the morning of his assassination, Smith tells us, President Lincoln told members of his cabinet of a disturbing dream he'd had - the one he described in the text to Quincy.  It is an incredible connection for readers and re-emphasizes the fact that this dream kept the fictional character trapped in the Executive Mansion all these years.  It is truly an amazing book - enough fact to ground readers in information, enough fancy to help readers soar.  All I could wish for were some citations for Smith's afterword, but really it feels authentic without that information.  While this is a picture book, and a story, it is based in fact, and again straddles that gray area in between. 

As always, the book design (done by Lane Smith's wife, Molly Leach) is impeccable.  The book is a mix of historical and modern touches.  Quincy, Lincoln and the narrator all speak in different fonts which adds to the interest on each page.  But all of the fonts are clean and crisp, so the page never feels too cluttered, even with all three speaking on the same page.

I think the last thing I would like to mention about this book is its audience.  While Frances, a kindergartener, was interested in this book, I believe this book also rewards a more sophisticated, older reader.  This is the kind of book that appeals to Kindergarteners with its basic narrative thread.  They would enjoy Lincoln's silly, old-fashioned jokes.  A fifth grader would have learned more about Lincoln and the history of the United States and could appreciate some of the things  that aren't said here.  And a high schooler would also be familiar with the history here, and would not feel as if the narrator talked down to them.  It's a flexible, entertaining book, good for multiple levels and audiences.  I wish I had time to compare it to other books with characters flying through the sky, seeing the world around them, such as Tar Beach.  There are lots of ideas that come out of a well-written book,  Pick this one up, not to learn more about the facts of Lincoln's life, but to experience history through his eyes.

Abe Lincoln's Dream.  Lane Smith.  Roaring Brook Press, 2012.

borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Bambino and Mr. Twain

Years and years ago, soon after I got my master's degree in library science at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill, I went back to school again.  I decided to get a second master's degree in English literature, from Virginia Commonwealth University.  I went part-time, at night, so my class choice was a little limited.  But I loved learning more about critical writing, and reading more literature.  I found most of my classes really interesting.  One of the classes that ended up being an unexpected favorite was a class that focused on the writings of Mark Twain.  I'm sure I originally thought it would only cover his most famous works, and that I could look more closely at The Adventures of Tom Sawyer and The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn.  I thought reading those two books again would tie in nicely with my love of children's literature.  Instead, I gained a far more rounded understanding of both Mark Twain the writer and Samuel Clemens the man.

So when Bambino and Mr. Twain showed up on the Cybils Nonfiction Picture Book nomination list, I was definitely looking forward to reading it.  This story takes place in 1904 and 1905.  Mark Twain is a famous, well-loved writer; Samuel Clemens is dealing with his grief over the loss of his wife, Livy.  He is reclusive, staying in his New York City home and not interacting with the public and reporters who wait outside.  He only talks to his housekeeper, his daughter Jean, and his cat Bambino.  The winter drags on, cold and dreary, as Clemens drowns in his sorrow.  Then as spring begins, a window is opened, and Bambino darts out.  Clemens is heartbroken and the family puts an ad in the newspaper, along with a reward for Bambino's return.  The response to the ad is completely overwhelming.  People bring cats of all kinds and descriptions to the Clemens house to help with this newest loss.  They just want to help their beloved "Mark Twain".  When Bambino finally returns, days later, the episode causes Samuel Clemens to realize that "there's a whole world outside of this house to enjoy."  He begins to return to life and his public, all due to his cat.

I found this book really interesting from my own adult perspective.  When the book opens, the entire family is in mourning for their wife and mother.  As I mentioned, Samuel Clemens is the one grieving.  He sees a huge chasm between his writerly persona, Mark Twain, and his own broken heart.  He says to Bambino, "' Everyone wants to meet witty Mark Twain,"..."' would they want to meet sad, old Samuel Clemens?'"  His daughters are also in the midst of their grieving - Clemens' daughter Jean is "growing old before her time." and his other daughter, Clara, is in a clinic, "too upset by her mother's death to be with them."  They are isolated, sad, and falling apart.  The cat is the only sign of energy and life in the home.

And because everyone is so beaten by their emotions, the cat's personality really shines.  Bambino is everywhere, providing distraction and comfort to the family.  When Clemens takes  to his bed, Bambino curls up on papers next to him.  When they half-heartedly celebrate Clemens' birthday, it's Bambino who eats the ice cream.  Bambino is clever, sassy and energetic.  Maltbie does a terrific job depicting the cat - his behavior is familiar to all cat-lovers.  Bambino's personality also gets at the core of the human-cat relationship.  Readers can tell how much Bambino cares for Clemens.  He accompanies Clemens everywhere, including playing billiards with him.

In the author's note at the end of the book, Maltbie explains that while Bambino was the Clemens' family cat, and did go missing in the spring of 1905, "whether Bambino's return really had anything to do with Sam's decision is something only Sam and Bambino would know."  So what Maltbie is indicating here is something discerning readers may have already wondered about: that at least part of this story has been fictionalized.  There is also quite a bit of dialogue in the book, which has also most likely been created by the author, since there are no citations.  Even though the story has been created, there are facts behind it, including that Bambino really did go missing.  So does the fictionalization make this story any less impactful?  I don't think so, in this case.  It is still a very vivid portrayal of grief and a family trying to move forward with their lives. It still rings true, both in their sadness and in the depiction of mischievous Bambino.  I appreciate Maltbie's author's note, with its clear explication of fact and fiction, to help readers distinguish between them.  Maltbie also includes a bibliography of adult biographies, which might help older readers continue to learn about Samuel Clemens and Mark Twain, including one written by his daughter, Clara.

This leads me to my thoughts about the audience of this book.  It is a nonfiction picture book, and it seems at first glance to be appropriate for children in younger elementary grades, just by looking at the length of the text.  However, most young children wouldn't know who Mark Twain was and would be confused by the duality of his personas - both Mark Twain and Samuel Clemens.  Also, the writing is fairly subtle and young readers will miss the grief and the loving relationship with the cat.  It seems like this book might be better used in a classroom where Mark Twain is being studied in-depth.  I also would have loved to have used it when I was taking my graduate-level seminar on the works of Mark Twain.

I haven't addressed Miyares' illustrations at all yet, and they do a terrific job of bringing this story to life.  The combination of mixed media and digital illustrations gives an unusual twist to the feel of this book.  They feel historically accurate and yet modern.  Everything that needs to be historically correct, is - including houses and clothing.  But the rest of the colors and details feel modern and a little more abstract.  The combination works well for this story, combining fact and fiction.  Again, Bambino's personality shines through.  When he returns to the Clemens' house, there is an illustration where the housekeeper scolds Bambino.  His tail quirks, questioning and unrepentant.  As any cat owner has experienced, he is sorry, but not that sorry.

This book is thoughtful and graceful.  It is a real treasure, both for Mark Twain fans and cat owners alike.  Explore it for yourself - it is worth the read.

Note: I am on the Cybils Nonfiction Picture Book panel, but this blog post does not represent the committee's thoughts about the book.  It only represents my personal ideas and thoughts.

Bambino and Mr. Twain.  P.I. Maltbie; illustrated by Daniel Miyares.  Charlesbridge, 2012.

borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Alice the Brave

I remember the exact moment I was first introduced to Alice.  I was commuting from library school at the University of North Carolina at Chapel Hill to work in Williamsburg, Virginia, on the weekends.  It was my last semester of graduate school, and in order to maximize my time, I tried to listen to as many audiobooks as possible to fulfill my children's literature requirements.  I had always loved children's books, and I had been preparing to become a children's librarian.  But listening to Alice's worries and fears in Alice the Brave made me connect with the book in a way I had never previously connected with children's literature.  I heard one particular conversation between Alice and her father, and it resonated with me.  In this last semester, I was struggling with relationships, and something that was said felt unbearably wise.  This really formed part of my overall theory of children's literature, which is that children's literature can speak to anyone, regardless of age.  It also helped me form an ongoing relationship with Alice herself, which I have blogged about here.  This is the book, for me, that started it all.

Interestingly, I had not ever actually read Alice the Brave, only listened to it.  And although it was such a formative book for me, I'd never actually re-read it after that first time.  So getting ready to read it again, I had to take a deep breath and see if I could re-discover what had made it so impressive for me in the first place.  And I did.  I'll quote it later.  But suffice to say the advice is just as wise today as it was then.

In this book in the series, Alice and her friends are getting ready to start eighth grade.  Alice is part of a close group of friends, both boys and girls, and they have spent the summer primarily at one of the group's family pool.  Every time they go to the pool, Alice grows increasingly anxious.  She is hiding a big secret - she's afraid of swimming in the deep end, and she has been hiding this secret from everyone she knows, including her family.  Even worse, the boys in the group have begun sneaking up on the girls and dumping them into the pool.  And Alice is sure her turn is next.

Even though this is a fear Alice hasn't previously disclosed to readers before, there are themes that have continued throughout the whole series.  One of those themes is growing up.  Alice has two best friends - Elizabeth and Pamela.  Pamela is always a little ahead of Alice in relationships and life.  She knows how the social scene will be in each grade and what they should all do to be popular, including whether or not they should have boyfriends.  And Elizabeth is the exact opposite.  She is very embarrassed about anything having to do with sex or boys.  Elizabeth's mother is pregnant, and Elizabeth cannot even stand to think about how that happened.  Alice is squarely in the middle - she has an on-again, off-again boyfriend, Patrick.  Even when they are "off" they are best friends and continue to confide in each other and spend time together.  But Alice is nowhere near as sophisticated as Pamela either.  She tends to follow Pamela's lead (which has gotten her into situations she isn't ready for in other books), even when she isn't sure of what might happen.

During this book Alice and Patrick are back together.  Even considering how close they are, Alice has not told Patrick about her fear of the water.  He has been gone much of the summer, so it is easy to conceal.  But it is almost too much to explain, especially when he asks her to join the swim team with him as a fun school activity that fall.  She thinks Patrick won't understand her fear, that he will not want to be seen with her because of her inability to swim.  When the whole incident finally comes to a head, Patrick is not there.  So Alice has to risk rejection and explain her anxiety to him.  Unsurprisingly, Patrick supports Alice and encourages her, telling her they will just have to find something else to do together if they can't join the swim team.

One of the other ongoing themes in these novels is Alice's sense of family.  Alice's mother died years ago, before Alice can even remember.  But she acutely misses the idea of her mother.  Especially as she grapples with growing up, Alice wonders how having a mother in her life would have changed her: "I went up to my room and wondered if it was times like this a mom would come in and sit beside you.  Put an arm around you and, no matter how you were feeling, say she'd felt like that once when she was your age." (p. 75)  Alice, no matter how she feels about her mother, does have a great amount of support from her father and her brother Lester, who is 21.  When Alice confides in Lester that she is afraid to swim in the deep end, Lester comes through for her.  He takes her to a friend's pool, where no one else will see them.  Lester works with Alice, giving her confidence little by little.  It is a sweet moment, and while Lester is a lot older than Alice, he understands her worries, and helps her solve them without giving her all the answers.

Alice, very wisely, eventually realizes that her anxiety about swimming is hurting all of her summer, not just the time she spends at the pool.  After all, what seems fairly simple affects everything she does on a daily basis.  She observes "If parents knew everything that goes on in their kids' heads, they'd be really surprised, I think.  Dad had no idea that I always said 'love you' before I went to Mark's pool so that if that turned out to be the day I sank to the bottom the last thing I would have said to my father was 'love you'" (p. 79).  This anxiety and panic really has her in its grip.  Again, this is a feeling even adults can relate to, especially the way Alice articulates what she is feeling.  She realizes that "There was plenty I could do about mine [my situation], but I was too afraid to try. " (p. 90).  She has to, finally, work up the courage to take her fear and face it squarely, and she does.

Alice is, of course, triumphant.  But this is not the only worry Alice has in this novel.  Alice's father has been dating Alice's sixth grade teacher, Miss Summers.  Alice is convinced that her father will ask Miss Summers to marry him.  Then it doesn't happen, which leads Alice to start asking questions about the adult relationships around her.  She asks her father about why he married her mother, hoping to get an idea about what he is looking for.  What he tells her at first - that he might have been happy with someone else besides her mother - scares her.  But he goes on to explain "Why did I marry her?  Because I knew that she was a woman I could love - that I did love...I had committed to the marriage, Al.  That's what makes the difference." (p. 123).  This next quote, although long, is what really resonated with me when I read this book the first time.  Incredibly, it is just as meaningful to me now.  "And suddenly my warm fuzzy feeling was back again, my armor for the first days of eighth grade, and all the other firsts in my life...It was the feeling...if any of the other hundred and one awful possibilities that lurked around the corner were to happen, I would take it....Because I had guts....Alice the Brave, that was me." (p. 123-4).  And she IS Alice the Brave.  It is a victorious ending for a wonderful, strong character.  I love her just as much today.  Who could ask for anything more?

Alice the Brave.  Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  Aladdin Paperbacks, 1995, 1996.

from my personal collection

Alice In-Between

So it's Mother's Day, for at least another hour here.  I'm finally posting a blog for the first time in more than a month.  Sorry for the long silence, but there have been some changes here, as well as some computer troubles that kept me from posting.  But I'm back!

And I am writing today about Alice, who actually lost her mother when she was very young. If you haven't read my other posts on this series, you can start here.  Alice begins this book at the end of her seventh grade year.  She has "the in-between blues" (p.86) as she tells her brother Lester.  Alice feels like she isn't young anymore, but she also isn't ready to become a grownup.  After all, she is only just turning thirteen.  And as those of us who have been thirteen year old girls can attest, quite often you don't know exactly what's going on.  You yearn for change, but when it comes, you aren't really ready for it and then want to go back to childhood.

This is exactly what happens to Alice.  She gets two glimpses of the adult world that giver her pause in this book.  The first comes after Alice's birthday.  For her birthday, she gets Lester to agree to take her out for a fancy (expensive) night on the town.  While Alice and Lester are out dancing, they run into Lester's sometime girlfriend, Crystal.  She has met a man at a club, and he has become aggressive with alcohol and won't leave her alone.  This man believes that Lester and Alice are husband and wife, and he willingly dances with Alice while Lester smuggles Crystal out of the club.  Alice marvels "I had only been a teenager for one week, and already I was being asked to help out in the romance department.  More than that, I might even be saving Crystal's life." (p. 24).  They make it out successfully, and the whole incident has a light-hearted tone.  None of them ever really feel in danger, and they all laugh about it.  After dropping Crystal off, though, Alice does ask Lester what she should do if it happens to her, and he tells her to call home immediately so he or their father can come get her.  But Alice is flattered by being seen as older by this man, and excited by the adventure of rescuing Crystal.

The next incident is even more threatening and scary.  Alice is invited to Chicago to visit her Aunt Sally's family with her two best friends, Pamela and Elizabeth.  As a side note, this friendship is another place where Alice feels in-between.  While Pamela loves to look more grown-up and to experiment with being adult, Elizabeth is prudish and young.  She doesn't want to talk about anything having to do with boys, marriage or sex.  Alice isn't quite ready to move full steam ahead like Pamela, is, but she isn't as slow to grow up as Elizabeth.
So off the girls go, via Amtrak from Washington DC to Chicago.  They are going to spend the night on the train, and Pamela ends up with her own tiny room.  A man sees her on the train, and asks her to eat dinner with him.  Pamela, not thinking of the consequences, agrees.  She tells him that she is getting ready to start college.  After dinner (with multiple drinks for the man), they go back to her room, but luckily Pamela is able to escape before anything really terrible happens to her (he does kiss and grope her).  The girls are lucky to have the conductor watching out for them, and he threatens the man to get him to leave the girls alone.  All three girls are very shaken by this incident, and during their time in Chicago, Alice notices that Pamela is reverting: "I swear she looked more like her sixth-grade picture than she did back in sixth grade." (p.115).  Not even Pamela is truly ready to become an adult.
As in most of the Alice books, Alice spends a lot of time thinking and wondering about her mother.  She misses her mother, and wonders how she would be different if her mother was alive.  And she sometimes feels a little lost with her father and brother: "One of the problems of growing up without a mother is that there's no one around who has any idea what it's like to be a girl." (p.2).  As Alice continues to negotiate her way through puberty, I can see this only becoming more important to her.

While looking for a poem to recite in a poetry unit at school, she finds a poem in a book belonging to her mother.  It's "Thanatopsis" by William Cullen Bryant, and a note in its margin tells Alice that it was one of her favorites.  Alice begins to work on memorizing the poem, and in turn, this connects her to her father's grief.  He helps Alice practice, and tells her how this poem helped sustain both Alice's mother and him while she was dying.  On the day Alice recites the poem in class, she begins crying as she speaks, thinking of her mother's life and love.  Later than night, she tells her brother and father about what happened.  Lester tells about a letter their mother had written him before she died, and how he thought he had lost it at school afterwards.  He tells how hard he had cried.  "Dad reached over and put a hand on Lester's shoulder, then stretched out his other hand to me...for a moment we just sat there, all holding hands.  Then Dad gave us a quick squeeze, and we went back to eating supper." (p. 85).  It's a poignant moment of enduring grief, but also enduring family strength.

Alice is negotiating the difficulties of being a teenager fairly well.  At the end of this book, Alice seems to be back together with Patrick, her on-again, off-again boyfriend.  And she is coming into her own.  There will always be bumps in the road, but Alice's Aunt Sally sums it up best when she says "'Marie's little girl, almost grown.'...'She would have been so pleased.'" (p. 120)

Alice In-Between.  Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  Atheneum, 1994.
Borrowed from Lewis & Clark library

Juniper Berry

I am not a scary book reader.  I'm not fond of horror - I just don't want to imagine those scenes.  I have a big imagination, so if I read something scary, I tend to remember it and think about it again at the most inopportune moments.  Like when it's dark, late at night, and I hear a strange noise (gulp!).  That's part of why this book is so refreshing - it is creepy and scary, but it's nothing middle schoolers can't handle.  In fact, some of the creepiness comes from how ordinary Juniper's life seems from the outside.

Juniper Berry is 11 years old, and she has famous parents.  They are both famous actors, and when she was young, they were able to leave their work behind when they came home.  The Berrys had Juniper as the focus of their lives.  Lately, though, her parents are distracted, acting like she's not even in the room.  The nicest thing they say to her is "Go away."  The Berrys worry about not being famous enough, they panic over the roles being offered to others, they fret over their performances and their lines.  Juniper knows something is not right.  But their eyes tell her the truth - they are flat, empty, and emotionless.

Since Juniper's parents became so famous, Juniper has become more and more isolated.  She was already homeschooled, locked behind the gates of the home where fans flock all day.  So when she sees a boy wandering the woods behind their house, she runs to meet him.  Giles lives nearby, and he is worried about his parents as well.  They are famous in the music world, and suddenly things are not right with his family either.  The biggest giveaway is their eyes.  Giles has followed them in the dead of night to a specific tree on the Berrys' property.  And Juniper has noticed something about that particular tree, too - a raven who perches there constantly - the only one in the area.
Kozlowsky does an amazing job of ratcheting up the tension and suspense without making the book too frightening.  There are a couple of really yucky scenes, but most of the terror in this book comes from fear, not gore.  Kozlowsky has created a combination of adrenaline ride and thoughtful commentary on today's society.  I believe the ideas behind the book will stick in readers' heads much longer than the fear.

This is the author's first novel, and one of his gifts is description.  And the descriptions he creates are unusual, yet give you an immediate picture.  He describes Mrs. Berry this way "Her torso was also long and seemed to bend like warm rubber..." (p. 11).  And Juniper longs to touch Giles' wet hair, and when she does, it feels like "thick strands of yarn, or, Juniper preferred, waterlogged caterpillars." (p. 29).  Both descriptions are quirky but strong - you can see Mrs. Berry bending, you can feel Giles' hair as Juniper does.  These descriptions really heighten the tone of this novel, making it feel creepier and creepier.

You may have already guessed that Juniper and Giles' parents are in trouble, and maybe even that it has something to do with the fact that they are all famous.  I don't want to give away too much and spoil your experience of this novel, but I'll say that Kozlowsky does an excellent job of looking at the price of fame in a way that young readers will understand.  Juniper's parents are seen constantly evaluating their fame.  "'Juniper, dear, you go to all those websites, those gossip pages, posting boards.  Have they been mentioning me?'" (p.11)  Both Juniper's father and mother worry their best days are behind them.  They feel old, not attractive, not successful, even though people are constantly hounding them (even Juniper's tutor scours the house for the latest Berry gossip).  But it is never enough for them.

One of the things I find most interesting about this book is the parent-child dynamic.  In most teen books and many books for middle schoolers, the parents are absent in order to allow the younger characters to act without parental influence.  But in this book, Juniper's parents are present, physically there in front of her.  And yet she is still absolutely alone, horribly neglected.  Her biggest desire is to have her parents back with her, to continue to make that connection with them.  Where many books show characters who aren't connected to their parents  (separating from families as part of the coming of age process), Juniper and Giles both desperately need their parents.  Juniper particularly is a typical 11 year old - sometimes brave and strong enough to act decisively on her own, more often still longing for her parents' touch.  It is a sad consequence of her parents' actions.

I hope readers will take the message her to heart - all of the parents have enormous aspirations, and gave up things to gain shortcuts to fame and stardom.  While they do work at their crafts, it comes much more easily now.  I think Kozlowsky does a great job of couching this message in an adventure.  Students will read on to see what happens to Juniper and Giles, but I hope they will take away the idea that things that come so easily might not be reality.  I think that idea gives the terror substance - what would the reader do to achieve their own dreams?  Read it, think about it, and let me know.  I hope this story of terror and temptation doesn't come true for you.

Juniper Berry.  M.P. Kozlowsky.  Walden Pond Press: HarperCollins, 2011.

borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library

Alice in April

I've been reading my way through the Alice series for about 18 months now.  They aren't the only thing I'm reading, as you can tell from my other entries.  But every time I pick up a book from this series, I gulp them down in a very short amount of time.  As I read, I fold down the corners of pages I want to go back to.  When I'm done reading, there are usually many dog-eared pages throughout.  There are so many ideas about growing up that really resonate with me, both remembering life as a young teenager and looking at Alice as an adult.  That's why I'm always so pleased to share these with you - if just one teen reads this series because of my writing, I'll feel like I did my part!


Alice in April begins right before Alice turns 13.  One of the most dated plot points in this novel (this was published almost 20 years ago, in 1993) involves Alice's Aunt Sally.  Since Alice's mother died before Alice was even in Kindergarten, Aunt Sally is the closest thing Alice has to a mother.  Sally advises Alice that as she turns 13, she will need to become the Woman of the House (capital letters intended), to support her older brother and father.  Sally reminds Alice that Alice's mother was a homemaker.  When Alice questions what a homemaker is, Sally "said a homemaker just makes a better home." (p.29).  She also gives Alice a laundry list of tasks she needs to begin, including all of the mending.  Eventually Alice's father discovers Alice's worries about being the Woman of the House, and reassures her that he does all the mending, and that no one needs to start spring cleaning just yet.

It is difficult for Alice to remember her mother, so she relies on other people's stories and memories of her.  Often in the past Alice has told her father she remembers something about her mother, and it turns out she's really confusing her mother with her Aunt Sally, who helped care for Alice after her mother died.  This is always painful for her father, and of course it's painful for Alice, too.  She is constantly reminded that she is the one person who has no idea what her mother was like.  That sort of mistaken memory is mentioned in every book - sometimes matter of factly, sometimes sadly.  As readers, we have grown accustomed to this, and accept that Alice will not ever remember anything about her mother.  So in Alice in April it is such a surprise, and such a gift, when Alice does finally remember something involving her mother.  "The more I thought about that scene, the clearer it became.  Yes, it was definitely my mother, and I remembered hugging her legs as we sat on those steps...." (p. 51).  In the memory, a young Alice tells her mother that she will never marry, and stay with her mother forever.  Her mother replies that Alice will find someone kind to love her.  It's a little bit of throwaway wisdom that I'm sure Alice's mother never thought would become a treasured memory.

Alice has thought and talked about her mother's death in all of the books so far.  This series is realistic in depicting Alice's grief.  While her family moves on with their lives, they all feel their mother's absence.  But in all of the previous novels, Alice has looked at her mother's death from her own sense of loss and perspective.  In this story, Alice goes to get a physical, and has a shocking moment of recognition: "It was weird, but I suddenly thought about Mom just then - wondering if she'd been sitting in a doctor's office in a paper robe like this the day she found out she had leukemia." (p. 41).  Alice is growing up, and this is just one way Naylor demonstrates that.  It is only for a split second (just seven lines of text) that Alice puts herself in her mother's place.  But it is poignant and heartbreaking and all too real.  You really see her mother, sitting on the table.  She has always been a shadowy character, since we can only know what Alice knows, but here she comes into sharp, tearful focus.

This isn't the only heartbreaking loss in Alice in April.  Alice spends some time with Denise, who we originally met in Reluctantly Alice, two books ago.  Denise began as a bully, but eventually she and Alice have become tentative friends.  Alice knows that Denise's life at home isn't good.  Denise shows up unannounced at Alice's house one night, and stays the night because she doesn't want to go home.  When Alice's father can't reach Denise's family, he notifies the police that Denise is safe with them, but no one ever comes looking for Denise.  Alice can tell Denise is hit on a regular basis, but doesn't question it.  Denise shrugs it off, and seems to accept it.  She tells Alice that her mother "won't change.  That's the problem - no matter what I do, I can't win. (p.69).  Alice shows empathy and compassion for Denise, and supports her as best as she can.  But sadly, it isn't enough.  Readers will be as shocked as Alice is to find out that Denise has committed suicide.  I felt the impact of this act as I read - I hadn't seen it coming, as bad as Denise's life was.  The school is told about Denise's death in an assembly, but Alice is in total shock.  "He went on talking, but I didn't hear.  I found myself crawling down through the seats in the bleachers, pushing aside people's feet to make room." (p. 155).  For many students today, this is unfortunately something they've heard about either locally or on the news, but to see Alice experience it is still emotional and visceral.  It leaves readers shaken.

Denise's death happens at the end of the book, and Alice definitely isn't okay by the final scene.  She is contemplative, wondering what she could have done differently.  In the end, she realizes "...all we can do is be the best friends to each other that we can and hope it's enough." (p.159).  Growing up is never easy, and Naylor's willingness to share this struggle is just one of the things I love about this series.

Alice in April.  Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 1993.

borrowed from Lewis & Clark library

All About Alice

As you already know, I've been reading the Alice series for the past year or so.  I really believed that I had read a good portion of the series previously, and that many of these would be re-reads.  So far I've read seven books for this goal, and I hadn't read any of those before!  Here's the latest one in the series - new to me (and to you!) - All But Alice.

Alice's mother died seven years ago, when Alice was only five years old.  She doesn't remember much about her mother, and in fact she often gets memories of her mother and her Aunt Sally confused.  But even though she didn't really get to know her mother, her mother's death still affects her life every day.  This year (seventh grade is just starting at the beginning of the novel) Alice feels the loss of her mother very strongly.  She has felt for the past couple of books that the embarassing mistakes that she makes are mostly due to not having a mother or another strong female presence in her life.  But she does realize that there are lots of women, young and old, around her.  So to take advantage of all their wisdom and experience, Alice decides to join the Worldwide Sisterhood.

That sounds comforting and empowering, doesn't it?  Alice thinks she'll be safest following the sisterhood's lead.  But really the Universal Sisterhood isn't everything it seems.  For instance, Alice believes that sisters should put each other first.  So how can she balance the three women who are all in love with Alice's older brother Lester?  She knows Marilyn and Crystal, the two girlfriends Lester has alternated between, the best.  Alice likes them both for different reasons.  Then there's Loretta, who works at the music store Alice's dad manages.  Loretta seems older and more worldly than the other two, and Alice thinks that has its advantages, too.  "I felt as though I'd been admitted to the Secret Society of Sisters or something.  Whatever Loretta knew about life, she'd share with me, I was sure." (p. 25)  Who's a girl to support?

One of the other problems that Alice is trying to solve is the problem of popularity.  When several other girls in the seventh grade, including her best friend Pamela, decide to get their ears pierced, Alice wants hers done too.  After all, one of the best things about the sisterhood to Alice is solidarity.  This means, Alice believes, doing everything the same, looking the same, to show how strong they are together.  The girls become popular together, including spending most of their free time together, trying to decide what they will wear and how to coordinate their clothes with their new earrings.  But in becoming popular, Alice excludes one of her long-time best friends, Elizabeth.  Elizabeth has decided not to pierce her ears, and doesn't become popular.  At first, Alice doesn't even notice.  She is too busy feeling loved and comforted by her young sisterhood.  Alice needs help getting her first pair of earrings in, and her group is there to help her.  "After that, I felt terrific just thinking about the way the girls had fussed over me there in the restroom, the way they'd helped and encouraged me.  I'd been surrounded with Sisters..." (p.49)

So what does being a Sister really mean?  Alice has to come to terms with the fact that being in the sisterhood doesn't mean being a pod person.  This means valuing herself and her friendships, both with boys and girls.  Alice is an original, and that's what great about her character.  She's not perfect, and her mistakes in life are just as genuine as her desire to do the right thing for her sisterhood.  Alice is scattered, but excited about life and what's ahead for her.  At the beginning of the book, she muses "Only a day or so ago, I'd been thinking bulletin boards and now I was thinking pierced ears.  What would I be thinking about the day after tomorrow?  Being twelve, almost thirteen, meant all kinds of wonderful surprises..." (p. 16).  Alice keeps us guessing.  What will happen next to Alice?  We'll have to keep reading in this series to find out!

All But Alice.  Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  Atheneum Books for Young Readers, 1992, 2011.

my own copy

Alice in Rapture, Sort Of

“Somehow life seemed to be rushing ahead faster than I was ready for.  I’d barely get comfortable with one thing, and then – bam!- something new was happening.” (p. 122-3) 

This quote, to me, is the core of the appeal of the Alice series.  Don’t we all feel like this?  It serves to remind us adults that we aren’t the only ones who feel like life is always changing.  And it helps comfort girls who feel like they are the only ones among their group of friends who aren’t ready to have things change.

If you’re a regular follower of my blog, you know that the character of Alice McKinley has really struck a chord with me since the first book I read in this series many years ago.  I had read various books in the series over the years, but I decided I wanted to start Alice’s journey from the beginning of her preteen years.  I’ve already started blogging about the series here, hereand here.

This is the summer between Alice’s 6^th and 7^th grade years, and at the beginning, Alice feels that it is going to be a great summer.  She has two really great friends, Pamela and Elizabeth, and a boyfriend, Patrick.  Pamela’s cousin from New Jersey told Pamela that they need to start junior high with boyfriends in order to be accepted, so this becomes “The Summer of the First Boyfriend” according to Alice’s father.

And having a boyfriend requires a whole new set of social skills for the girls.  Since Alice has had all year to grow her friendship with the other girls, Naylor uses this novel to help Alice find her way with Patrick.  These are still young girls, so the most that goes on here is French kissing.  But each girl has a boyfriend during this summer, and they all make different relationship decisions.  Patrick and Alice see each other almost every day, mostly spending time on her front porch talking and holding hands.  Elizabeth believe that she shouldn’t even kiss a boy (because her parents have told her she is not allowed to date) and Pamela’s mother has threatened to cut off Pamela’s extremely long hair if she dates anyone.  Pamela decides to risk her mother’s anger and keep her boyfriend, but Elizabeth’s boyfriend breaks up with her when she won’t kiss him.

Patrick and Alice do lots of things together, including a supervised vacation at the beach, a fancy date at the country club and lots of time spent hanging out with their group of friends.  In other words, this is an appropriate romance for young teens – there is no pressure to do anything uncomfortable at this point in the series, and the teens are having a good time together without getting into trouble.  And when Alice decides that she would rather not have a boyfriend at the beginning of school, they downgrade to “special friends” without too much fuss.

One of the biggest topics in this series is Alice’s mother, who died when Alice was five.  Alice is always evaluating her mother’s absence and her impact on Alice’s life.  There are some real bittersweet moments in this novel.  Alice discovers a box of her mom’s memorabilia in their attic while looking for some clothes.  This brings her closer to her mother as it triggers some of Alice own memories (she hasn’t remembered much about her mother previously).  It also helps Alice begin to know her mother as a woman and a mother.

However, as a motherless girl, there are times when Alice really feels left out.  In this book she begins to find that there are substitute mothers in her life – her Aunt Sally and cousin Carol, who give her advice on what to give Patrick for his birthday; a neighbor who happens to show up when Alice is home sick with the flu; some of her older brother’s girlfriends…Alice isn’t alone.  And in fact, she has many strong women in her life to help her.  She just has to know where to look.

This series is so rewarding.  Every time I dive into one, I read it within an afternoon.  They are comforting and also address the anxiety of change.  It is a feeling we can all relate to, and that’s part of the reason I keep coming back.

Alice in Rapture, Sort Of.  Phyllis Reynolds Naylor.  Atheneum, 1989.

Borrowed from Lewis & Clark Library