Archive for the 'Children’s Books' category

Review and Kids’ Book Giveaway: Lost Trail: Nine Days Alone in the Wilderness

Jan 27 2012 Published by under Children's Books, Reviews

Like all Maine children, my boys have read Lost on a Mountain in Maine, the true account of a 12 year old boy, Donn Fendler, who, in 1939,  survived alone on Maine’s tallest mountain, Mount Katahdin, for nine days. My younger son, age 10, likes novels, but likes graphic novels even more. When we found out that a graphic novelization was published in late 2011 by Down East Books, I emailed them and asked for a copy. They were gracious enough to send it the next day, and I’d like to give it away to a random commenter.

Fendler’s story is one of resilience, fortitude, hope, luck, and faith. In an interview at the end, Fendler says he believes his faith in God was the most important component of his ability to endure the weather, dehydration, hunger, and, worst of all, black flies. But he also thanks his Boy Scout training and his will to live.

My son says “it’s a good book”, “an enjoyable read.” When asked to compare it to the book, he says it is “much better.” When asked why, he gave me an example. In the graphic novel, early on, Donn promises to bring his mom back a souvenir from his camping trip to Maine. In the middle of his ordeal, he finds a “souvenir.” Then, he loses it. In the original book, my son says, “the time is completely scrambled … the things that happen even before the trip happened when he lost the souvenir in the novel.”

My son thinks the illustrations are “very well done.” Unlike some of his favorites, such as the Bone series and the Amulet series, Lost Trail is drawn completely in black and white, but he says the graphics are just as good. The artist, Ben Bishop, is based in Portland, Maine. A third contributor is Lynn Plourde, a Maine children’s book author. I am no expert, but to me the graphics look more like manga than, say, straight comics like the Bone books. The images perfectly match the pace of the story, and really emphasize the emotional component. I also liked the way the manga influence seemed to take the story a little bit out of Maine, not with the big manga eyes and pert noses, but with the composition, the shading, the lines. I also think the graphic novel form works great for action stories with strong central characters, so the fit is perfect. My sons both say that the graphic novel version is much more exciting than the longer format.

But I am no expert, so here’s my photo of one page to let you be the judge of what drawing style it is:

 

I’m delighted that this beloved Maine story has been reworked in a graphic novel form, without losing what made the original so special. Judging from the reaction in our house, it’s a big success. As Stephen King has said, “Donn Fendler’s story of survival is both terrifying and uplifting. It’s wonderful to see it in a format that will introduce it to a whole new generation of readers. Here’s a graphic novel about a real American superhero.”

If you’d like to be entered to win (U.S. only) this book, please make a comment below before Friday February 3 at midnight EST. I’ll use Random.org to pick a winner and send it right off.

7 responses so far

Review: The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland In A Ship of Her Own Making, by Catherynne M. Valente

Oct 01 2011 Published by under Children's Books, Reviews

Valente is a writer of fantasy novels for adults, as well as poetry and critical essays, but found her audience keenly interested in a children’s story she hadn’t really intended to write. As she explains,

The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making began as a book-within-a-book in my adult novel, Palimpsest, a part of the protagonist’s childhood, a strange novel for children written in the 1920s, about a young girl spirited away to Fairyland by the Green Wind, and her adventures there, battling the wicked Marquess, befriending outlandish creatures, and growing up. As I traveled to promote the book, readers asked me one question more than any other:

Is it real?

And I said no, no, it’s fiction, just part of the world of the novel. And then, every time, the next question would come:

Are you going to write it?

And again, I said no. It’s impossible—a YA book hidden in a very much not-YA novel. No one would publish it.

Valente posted GWCF in installments on her website (she has since removed the final chapters, at the request of her publisher). There, she explains that difficult family circumstances led her to post chapters on her blog and ask people to pay what they felt it was worth. Having read it, I am totally unsurprised that she found success beyond her wildest dreams. As she writes, “Word spread fast, and help came. We were literally saved—because of a book, and a story, and a tribe of wonderful people who spread the word, and donated, and took care of my family in this New Depression everyone is getting to know.”
Continue Reading »

9 responses so far

Merry Christmas! What We Did and Which Books We Exchanged

Dec 25 2010 Published by under Children's Books, Navel gazing

I hope everyone has a wonderful day today!

We celebrated last night at my mom’s house, who lives down the street. Until 2005, Mom had lived her whole life in southern New England. After we had the kids, she would leave work on Fridays, get on a 5 hour bus, and arrive here at 11:00pm. Then she would help us all weekend with the kids and the household chores, and get back on the bus at 6:00pm on Sunday night to be back for work Monday morning. She did this for about two years, before realizing that she didn’t want to miss everything that happened Monday to Friday. So, about 5 years ago, she  retired early and moved to Maine. The kids go to her house every day after school, she makes us dinner on nights we are too tired to do it, and we haven’t had to hire a sitter in five years.

It’s been an incredible blessing to have her here. Not to mention the fact that she’s my best friend, and I can stop at her house and know I will have a nice cup of coffee, or, amazingly, a 5 course meal (somehow, despite having a tiny kitchen, she is always ready for any possible food and beverage need), and a great conversation.

It’s Italian American tradition where I am from to have a big meal and open presents on Christmas eve, so last night, Mom made lasagna and meatballs, and we had a long discussion about the proper proportion of pork to beef (25 to 75%), and about how to prevent the lasagna noodles from splitting (dunk them in cold water, pat dry). She is an amazing cook, having learned from her mother-in-law, who hailed from Pisa.

My mom started a food club back when that wasn’t fashionable, and it became so popular the state newspaper covered it. Growing up, my parents actually had a second house on our property just for parties. It was a converted barn, with a bar, a dance floor, wall to wall red shag carpet, two kitchens, his and hers bathrooms, and poker tables. This was the 1970s. I tell anyone who wants to know about my childhood to watch Ang Lee’s movie The Ice Storm.* Swap out the Connecticut WASPs for Providence Italians, and that’s pretty much it. Nostalgic for those heady days of real parties, Mom and I spend probably way too much time complaining about the way Mainers entertain (it usually involves store bought mayonnaise, overcooked chicken, and lamentably bad white wine, sometimes in terrifying combinations).

[*Alas, no one has ever actually asked me to tell them about my childhood, but I feel it is important to have a handy movie reference just in case.]

Anyway, from her, I received two cookbooks as gifts:

My husband got a subscription to Wine Spectator, which he is thrilled with, although we discovered this morning that even subscribers have to pay to use their website, which is ridiculous, if you ask me.

The kids also got books. Mom’s a big reader, and I grew up with books everywhere. We had books in the dining room, the kitchen, the bathroom, in little stacks (but nothing hoardish, don’t worry). Looking back, I think I got the message that there wasn’t just one room or one place or one time to read. And it stuck.

We have a great little children’s book shop in downtown Bangor called The Briar Patch, where my mom got these:

David and Max is about the Holocaust. Our boys haven’t “gone there” yet in fiction, so it will be an education for all of us to read and discuss, it.

My older son’s “big present” was a 3rd generation Kindle. Very exciting! Of course, I had to get out my own second gen Kindle and compare. The new Kindles feel so much smaller and lighter. I love the “home” button on the new Kindle, and find it easier to navigate, with faster page refresh and crisper contrast. I don’t like the tiny page turn buttons, or the lack of a number row of buttons.

Anyway, we immediately loaded the gift card he had gotten for Hanukkah from his other grandparents, and he bought two books:

Of course, we also bought a couple of books for my mom:

I swear, she asked for Old Maine Woman!

This isn’t always the easiest time of year for everyone, myself included. Without bringing the whole tone of the post down, I felt like I wanted to mention the people who experience loss, estrangement, or just interpersonal tension most keenly during the winter holidays. If this is a difficult time for you, know you are not alone, and consider yourself virtually hugged.

I converted to Judaism many years ago, so we’ll be celebrating Christmas the traditional Jewish way today, with a movie and Chinese food. I am working my way through Jennifer Crusie’s backlist as I write a paper on “emotional justice” and the romance novel. So look for a lot of Crusie reviews next week.

Whatever you are up to, I hope you get at least a few minutes to read and relax.

Merry Christmas!

19 responses so far

Mother and Son joint Review: Ghostopolis, by Doug TenNapel

Dec 11 2010 Published by under Children's Books, Reviews

Ghostopolis is a 272 page graphic novel for middle graders published in 2010.  It’s the story of Garth Hale, a boy who is dying of an incurable disease, who gets accidentally plucked out of bed and sent to Ghostopolis by a ghost hunter named Frank Gallows, a downtrodden officer from the Supernatural Immigration Task Force. Garth has to survive in Ghostopolis, an afterlife populated by loads of imaginatively rendered creatures, and ruled by the terrifying Vaugner, with only the “night mare” Skinny as his guide. Meanwhile, a horrified Frank is summarily fired, and tracks down his ex girlfriend, Claire Voyant, who has built herself a plasmapod designed to travel between this world and the next. Who will Garth meet on his journey across Ghostopolis? If he gets home, will be survive his illness? Will Frank and Claire get back together?

I bought this one as a Hanukkah present for my nine year old, and he loved it. In fact, he’s already read a second TenNapel graphic novel, Gear. I then had to wait for my eleven year old son also to read Ghostopolis before I got my chance. Here’s what the younger guy had to say:

Jessica: Max, how did you like this book?

Max: I thought it was a very good book, even better than Bunnicula.

Jessica: Why?

Max: Because it had lots of things going on that all ended up into one. And it had lots of action. And mystery.

Jessica: Do you think it is scary?

Max: No, but there are some gross parts. Like when they had the mummified elephant poop. And there is one character who is scary.

Jessica: Would that be Vaugner? The evil overlord of Ghostopolis?

Max: No, but I can’t tell you who because it would be a spoiler.

Jessica: Spoiler? Where did you learn the word spoiler?

Max: I learn things and I have no idea where I learned them.

Jessica: What does “spoiler” mean?

Max: It means it ruins the surprise.

Jessica: That’s how I see it too. Okay, what was your favorite part?

Max: I like the part that was sort of a spoiler.

*spoiler alert*

Max: It was when they found Joe in the Bone Kingdom. Joe is sort of like a god. He built the place.

Jessica: Why is Joe like a god?

Max: Because in the story it said it took him “six days” to build Ghostopolis, which some say it took God six days to build the world.

Jessica: Wow, You were really listening in Hebrew School, weren’t you?

Max: Yes. And when it shows Joe, he has holes in his hands, which is like Jesus.

Jessica: Wait a minute. They didn’t teach you that in Hebrew school. Have you been watching Davy and Goliath again?

Max: *shrugs*


*end spoiler*

Jessica: Is there anything special about Garth?

Max: Yes, Garth has an ability to make a streak of lightening come from his body.

Jessica: Is there any fighting in this book?

Max: Yes, especially at the end where the have they big fight.

Jessica: I liked that there was no blood or gore. Very imaginative fight, visually. Who was your favorite character?

Max:  Probably Skinny, the night mare. I like Skinny because he is in a lot of the book, and Garth cares a lot about him.

Jessica: Who would you recommend this book to?

Max: Well, I was eight when I finished it, but I was almost nine. So, I think you should be nine to read it. I think some younger kids might be bored of the romance.

Jessica: Did you know they are making a movie based on this book, starring Wolverine, I mean, Hugh Jackman, as Frank Gallows?

Max: No. I don’t think I should go see that movie. Because a lot of people I know said, if they make a movie off of a book, the book is better. And that was true for Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs and The Grinch who stole Christmas.

Mom’s take (with spoilers):

This is a pretty complex book, with several subplots, that do, as Max said, come together in the end. Garth meets his grandfather in Ghostopolis, who is estranged from his mother. Ghostopolis’s evil ruler actually dated Clair Voyant. And Frank’s boss has an unexpected secret that involves Vaugner as well. The illustrations, even of the humans, very compelling, but they are not pretty. Many different kinds of creatures populate Ghostopolis, as the image above shows, including skeletons, mummies, bugs, aliens, and fairies. I loved the drawings, and felt they told the story much better than the words, which were at times quite crude and clunky.

Looked at one way, this is a very “heavy” read, in terms of death, dying, and the afterlife. But there’s a lot of death and dying in super hero comics and films, too, and romance as well (Spiderman, for example), and it’s all pretty superficial. I would rather have those things treated with a little seriousness, as they are here, than glossed over. On the other hand, I was a little confused about the some aspects of the story, like whether everyone there once lived on earth, and whether Ghostopolis is a way station or a final destination, and for whom, and why.

The one genuinely moving aspect of the story, to me, was the quasi-religious one, which Max alluded to in the spoiler section above. It gives a glimpse of what benevolence really looks like. The god of Ghostopolis, Joe, is a black Tuskegee airman. I loved that.

5 responses so far

Review: Bunnicula, by Deborah and James Howe

Oct 25 2010 Published by under Children's Books, Reviews, Vampires

Bunnicula (98 pages, NY: Simon & Schuster) was published in 1979. Since then, several more Bunnicula books have been published, and there are over 8 million in print. My eight year old son, Max, the better one (<—– Max added that), read it, and he asked me to read it too. I did, on a flight to San Diego. I laughed so hard that the flight attendant asked me if anything was the matter. It wasn’t. I was just enjoying an incredibly funny, heartwarming, and wise children’s story. Now that we’ve both read it, I’m going to ask Max a few questions:

Jessica: Ok, what is this book about?

Max: Vampire bunnies.

Jessica: Can you say more?

Max: No.

Jessica: MAX!!

Max: What?

Jessica: You have to tell people about a book if you are going to review it.

Max: Oh.

Jessica: So, tell me more about this book. What happens? Who is in it? That kind of stuff.

Max: One question at a time.

Jessica: *sighs* Okay, then. What happens in this book?

Max: A family finds a rabbit at a movie theater. They decide to bring it home and keep it. But the pets –Harold and Chester –think it is a vampire, and they want to get rid of it. Harold is a dog and Chester is a cat.

Jessica: What could possibly make them think that a cute little bunny rabbit is in fact a vampire?

Max: Fangs, sleeping at day, waking up at night, drinking juice out of vegetables…

Jessica: Drinking juice out of vegetables?

Max: Yes. The vegetable is white with two teeth marks in it.

Jessica: Can you tell us more about the other main characters, Harold and Chester?

Max: Chester the cat is really smart. He thinks of things immediately, He doesn’t give it a few minutes. Harold the dog is not that smart, but he still is a good pet. I mean, he doesn’t even know what a parrot is.

Jessica: What was your favorite part?

Max: When they try to put a sirloin steak through Bunnicula’s heart. Because Chester is reading a book about how to kill a vampire, and he confused “steak” and “stake.”

Jessica: What is Chester worried about? I mean, it’s just vegetables.

Max: But he says “Today vegetables … tomorrow the world.” He thinks Bunnicula will eat the whole family.

Jessica: Is this a scary book?

Max: Depends. It depends on what you think about the book. Do you think it is scary? Funny? Just a regular book?

Jessica: Well, what did you think?

Max: It was a good book. Three and a half stars out of five.

Jessica: Give me an example of a five star book.

Max: The Hoboken Chicken Emergency (we’ll review this one another time).

Jessica: Who do you think will like Bunnicula?

Max: I think anybody who likes to read will like this book.

******SPOILER ALERT*******

Jessica: Is Bunnicula really a vampire, in your opinion?

Max: Yes, because he still wakes up at night, has fangs, can get out of his cage without bending anything or opening any doors, and doesn’t like garlic.

******END SPOILER*******

Jessica: Thanks Max. Was this fun?

Max: Ayuh.


EXCERPT:

The little bunny had begun to move for the first time since he had been put in his cage. He lifted his tiny nose and inhaled deeply, as if gathering sustenance from the moonlight.

“He slicked his ears back close to his body, and for the first time,” Chester said, “I noticed the peculiar marking on his forehead. What had seemed an ordinary black spot between his ears took on a strange v-shape, which connected with the big black patch that covered his back and each side of his neck. It looked as if he was wearing a coat . . . no, more like a cape than a coat.”

Through the silence had drifted the strains of a remote and exotic music.

“I could have sworn it was a gypsy violin,” Chester told me. “I thought perhaps a caravan was passing by, so I ran to the window.”

I remembered my mother telling me something about caravans when I was a puppy. But for the life of me, I couldn’t remember what.

“What’s a caravan?” I asked, feeling a little stupid.

“A caravan is a band of gypsies traveling through the forest in their wagons,” Chester answered.

“Ah, yes.” It was coming back to me now. “Station wagons?”

“No, covered wagons! The gypsies travel all through the land, setting up camps around great bonfires, doing magical tricks, and sometimes, if you cross their palms with a piece of silver, they’ll tell your fortune.”

“You mean if I gave them a fork, they’d tell my fortune?” I asked, breathlessly.

Chester looked at me with disdain. “Save your silverware,” he said, “it wasn’t a caravan after all.”

I was disappointed. “What was it?” I asked.

Chester explained that when he looked out the window, he saw Professor Mickelwhite, our next door neighbor, playing the violin in hisliving room. He listened for a few moments to the haunting melody and sighed with relief. I’ve really got to stop reading these horror stories late at night, he thought, it’s beginning to affect my mind. He yawned and turned to go back to his chair and get some sleep. As he turned, however, he was startled by what he saw.

There in the moonlight, as the music filtered through the air, sat the bunny, his eyes intense and staring, an unearthly aura about them.

“Now, this is the part you won’t believe,” Chester said to me, “but as I watched, his lips parted in a hideous smile, and where a rabbit’s buck teeth should have been, two little pointed fangs glistened.”

I wasn’t sure what to make of Chester’s story, but the way he told it, it set my hair on end.

15 responses so far

Review: The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman (Mother and son joint review)

Sep 11 2010 Published by under Children's Books, Duelling/Joint Reviews

On the right is the US cover. I prefer the UK cover, left, which showcases Dave McKean’s wonderful artwork.

My 10 year old son and I enjoyed the movie Coraline, based on a 2002 book by Gaiman, but neither of us had read this author. So we read The Graveyard Book to see what all the fuss is about.

Jessica: How would you describe this book to someone your age?

David: This book is pretty advanced. It is scary and emotional. I wasn’t very enthusiastic about reading this book at first, mostly, well entirely, because I started this book last year but put it down. I was quite scared of it at first. It starts out with a man murdering an entire family, a notorious killer named Jack, not the ripper, just Jack. It’s the prospect of immediately jumping into a story where you look at the book and think, “what the,” that scares you.

Jack still has one more person to kill, the baby. He walks in to the baby’s room, but the baby has escaped.

The baby ends up in the graveyard. The ghosts see him and argue, but eventually take him in as an orphan and, more importantly, give him The Freedom of the Graveyard (the book will tell you more about that). They name him Nobody Owens, but he goes by Bod. The killer is still tracking Bod down, yet at the same time he has to cope with the fact he is not a regular boy.

Jessica: Was this an exciting book?

Yes. It started right at the beginning with action, and stayed action-packed all the way through. I really like that. I don’t like to wait a long time in a book for the action to start, like in the The Cargo of the Madalena, which I didn’t finish reading.

Jessica: What was the best part of the book?

The Ghoul Gate, the area where the ghouls get in to the graveyard from their own world. The ghouls end up taking Jack through the gate, and it’s a very scary place and a very exciting part of the book.

Jessica: Did you know the ghouls took the names of their first human victims?

No, but that’s irrelevant.

Jessica: In what ways was Bod’s life unusual?

He was raised by ghosts, in a graveyard. I already said that. He did not go to school (except for a little bit). He didn’t have homework. Lucky. He didn’t have a younger brother. Lucky. He didn’t have anything that humans that are regular would have. He didn’t even have clothes. He wore a sheet.

Jessica: In what ways was Bod’s life like a regular boy’s life?

He is alive. He has parents. He played like a kid.

Jessica: Which characters did you find the most interesting?

Jack, because he didn’t seem human. Silas was interesting. He was a protector of Bod. He was different from the graveyard ghosts. I didn’t get him that much. He wasn’t dead like the ghosts but not alive like Bod.

Jessica: Did you know Silas is a vampire?

No, not until you told me. I just thought he was a regular guy, but weird.

Jessica: Were there any parts of the book that you didn’t like?

Well, there was a big sort of festival or parade in the town. I thought it was irrelevant.

Jessica: Would you recommend this book to others?

David: Yes, of course. I really liked it. People who don’t like ghost stories may not like it, though. And I think you should be about ten years old to read it because of the scary parts.

Jessica: David has run off to play soccer, so I will just add a few of my own impressions:

1. It’s amazing how many different emotions Gaiman can evoke, even just in the first chapter, which veers from terrifying to cozy. I was shocked by the beginning, but then I remembered that many children’s stories begin with the orphaning of the protagonist. And the violence … well, we’ve been reading Grimm’s and this was nothing compared to some of those stories.

2. I spent a lot of the book wondering — and fretting over –  how nonphysical beings interact with the physical world. Perhaps nonphilosophers who read this book will not have quite that problem. Then again Descartes didn’t solve it, so why should I expect Gaiman to?

3.  I knew immediately that Silas was a vampire when he erased Jack’s memory in the first chapter.

4. In some ways this book reminded me of Buffy the Vampir Slayer (the TV show) or Harry Potter in the sense that the story works so effectively on two levels: the supernatural and the literal. Bod is a regular boy with many of the same problems that any real boy has — fighting for independence from his protectors, making friends, making impulsive bad decisions, etc. — but his situation is completely fantastic.

5. The Graveyard Book is episodic, sometimes to a fault. I agree with David about the festival chapter, and there are a few other subplots that seemed not to fit in all that well, as enjoyable as they were to read.

6. The writing is lovely. Gaiman’s voice is very unique, at least to my reading ears. Kind of comforting and horrifying at the same time. Here’s an excerpt from the fist chapter:

The toddler’s room was at the very top of the house. The man Jack walked up the stairs, his feet silent on the carpeting. Then he pushed open the attic door, and he walked in. His shoes were black leather, and they were polished to such a shine that they looked like dark mirrors: you could see the moon reflected in them, tiny and half full.

The real moon shone through the casement window. Its light was not bright, and it was diffused by the mist, but the man Jack would not need much light. The moonlight was enough. It would do.

He could make out the shape of the child in the crib, head and limbs and torso.

The crib had high, slatted sides to prevent the child from getting out. Jack leaned over, raised his right hand, the one holding the knife, and he aimed for the chest . . .

. . . and then he lowered his hand. The shape in the crib was a teddy bear. There was no child.

The man Jack’s eyes were accustomed to the dim moonlight, so he had no desire to turn on an electric light. And light was not that important, after all. He had other skills.

The man Jack sniffed the air. He ignored the scents that had come into the room with him, dismissed the scents that he could safely ignore, honed in on the smell of the thing he had come to find. He could smell the child: a milky smell, like chocolate chip cookies, and the sour tang of a wet, disposable, nighttime diaper. He could smell the baby shampoo in its hair, and something small and rubbery – a toy, he thought, and then, no, something to suck – that the child had been carrying.

See how Gaiman evokes the wonderful smells of a baby– cliched smells, really, in fiction, with all the comfort those cliches provide the reader — within a horrifying context?

We enjoyed it very much and will certainly read more by Gaiman.

18 responses so far

Review: The Giver, by Lois Lowry (mother and son joint review)

May 13 2010 Published by under Children's Books

The Giver, a futuristic/dystopian/”soft” sci fi fantasy of about 175 pages, was first published in 1993. It won all kinds of awards, including the Newbery Medal, and is often assigned by US school teachers in middle school, although critical reception has been mixed. I started hearing about it when I moved to Maine. It turns out that Lowry is a Maine author of a sort:

My children grew up in Maine. So did I. I returned to college at the University of Southern Maine, got my degree, went to graduate school, and finally began to write professionally, the thing I had dreamed of doing since those childhood years when I had endlessly scribbled stories and poems in notebooks.

My students often ask me if I have read it  — it picks up some themes we address in Intro to Philosophy and Ethical Theory, especially as explored by Plato in the Republic and John Stuart Mill in Utilitarianism — but I never had, because I was out of college by the time it was published. My 10 year old fourth grader just read it for school, so it was a good time for me to do so as well.

Here is our joint review (He wanted pictures of us as we were writing it):

Goofing around

Finally, a decent one

Excerpt (Jonas, the main protagonist, and his little sister Lily, are having their evening chat about feelings after dinner with their parents):

[Jonas] listened politely, though not very attentively, while his father took his turn, describing a feeling of worry that he’d had that day at work: a concern about one of the new children who wasn’t doing well. Jonas’s father’s title was Nurturer. He and the other Nurturers were responsible for all the physical and emotional needs of every new child during its earliest life. It was a very important job, Jonas knew, but it wasn’t one that interested him much.

“What gender is it?” Lily asked.

“Male,” Father said. “He’s a sweet little male with a lovely disposition. But he isn’t growing as fast as he should, and he doesn’t sleep soundly. We have him in the extra care section for supplementary nurturing, but the committee’s beginning to talk about releasing him.”

“Oh, no,” Mother murmured sympathetically. “I know how sad that must make you feel.”

Jonas and Lily both nodded sympathetically as well. Release of newchilden was always sad, because they hadn’t had a chance to enjoy life within the community yet. And they hadn’t done anything wrong.

There were only two occasions of release which were not punishment. Release of the elderly, which was a time of celebration for a life well and fully lived; and release of a newchild, which always brought a sense of what-could-we-have-done. This was especially troubling for the Nurturers, like Father, who felt they had failed somehow. But it happened very rarely.

Jessica: Ok, how would you describe this book to someone your age who has not read it?

David: I would describe the book as about a perfect world that’s gone wrong. The main character’s name is a boy named Jonas. Jonas is eleven and soon he will be told what his Assignment is. That is his job. There is no pain, you can’t feel it. Everyone has the same birthday. There is no war. There is no hunger. No bad things that happen. It is a very civilized community.

Jessica: So what has gone wrong?

David: The whole community isn’t really the best community. You can’t have your own babies. That’s the birth mothers’ job. You don’t choose your own job. The elders choose it for you. You don’t choose your wife or husband. You take pills for your “stirrings”. You get a comfort object like a stuffed elephant. But they take them away from everyone at the same age.

Jessica: So what happens to Jonas?

David: Jonas is about to become a “Twelve”. He has been seeing things and is worried. The ceremony of the Twelves is the last age ceremony. After that nobody knows their age. And they tell you your assignment. Everybody gets a job except for Jonas. Jonas panicked because the elders never make a mistake. It is supposed to be perfect, a utopia. But after everybody else got their jobs, one of the elders says that Jonas has not been “assigned”. He has been “selected” to be the Receiver of Memories. Everybody gasps because this is so rare. There is always just one Receiver at a time in the whole community and it is an honor and a heavy burden.

Jessica: What does the Receiver do?

David: After that he goes to his training with the Giver, who teaches him about what the Receiver does. The Giver gives memories of the past to Jonas by touching him. Some of them are painful, of war and famine. It hurts Jonas to receive these memories. But some memories are nice, like of sun and snow. The Giver explains that Jonas has been seeing colors, which the rest of the community can’t see.

Jessica: Did you enjoy this book? How would you rate it on a scale of 1 to 10?

David: I would give it an “8″. It is not perfect because they just didn’t tell so much. The only action part came at the end. The book was quick, almost like an abridged version. I need an unabridged version that tells me all about this, or a prequel. How did this community come into being?

Jessica: What would you say the theme or underlying message of this book is, if there is one?

David: If you strive to be perfect you might be doing more harm than good. But you’re blind to that. Also, a world with choices is better than a world without choices. Even if you make wrong choices, it’s your choice. You should have a say. Even George Bush.

Jessica: What?

David: I said “even George Bush.” [pause] What, you don’t want to get political on your blog?

Jessica: No …  it’s just [can't hear self think over loud chicken clucking noises made by 10 year old] Fine. It stays. Now, what’s the title of a book or two that you really loved?

David: Fellowship of the Ring by JRR Tolkien, and The Name of This Book series by Pseudonymous Bosch (check out his really cool website here :lol: )

Jessica: Ok, time for bed. I am going to add a few comments now.

David: What comments?

Jessica: Just some adult observations.

David: What adult observations?

Jessica: You can read it tomorrow. Now go to sleep!

I think David hit it when he said this book read like an abridged version. I was drawn in at first, especially by the simplistic but evocative language (as in the excerpt, “newchild” for infant, “released” for euthanized, etc.) but there was a point when the suspension of disbelief became very difficult for me to maintain. Like, how did they get rid of perception of color? Of the sun? Of strong emotions? Of animals? And how can humans even function without those things? In Brave New World, to which this is often compared, you got a sense of the mechanisms — genetic engineering, pharmacology, and behavioral psychology — by which obedience was achieved, but we get nothing in The Giver.The book crossed lines between between fantasy and allegory that I found jarring.

I also had problems with the way memory was portrayed. Memories of the type explored in The Giver (episodic) are always someone’s. How can one person have first person experiences of things he hasn’t experienced? Also, memories are portrayed sort of like they are in the Harry Potter series. Remember Dumbledore’s pensieve? Each memory is a discrete thing, unconnected to everything else in mental life. That’s not how it works — “memory” is really a folk name for a set of cognitive capacities, not little drawers in our brains that hold Polaroids. I’m not asking for a neurologically accurate account of memory, but to not even explain a little how it is that one human mind can hold the world’s memories going back generations, how it is that such memories are transferred to the Receiver, and how exactly it will happen that if they are not successfully transferred they “go into everyone”, were gaps even my 10 year old noticed.

Books like this always work a little better for me when the attractions of the futuristic world are actually attractive. To me, the community in The Giver — devoid completely of close personal relationships, including familial ones, as well as romantic love and sex, creativity (no artworks, including books), and so many other things, not to mention color and weather!  — was hard to reconcile with anything I know about human desires or visions of the good life. To my son, though, it was attractive, so maybe that’s the problem with reading this book for the first time at my advanced age.

The novel ends abruptly and ambiguously. In my reading, the ending was very, very bleak, and as such, it was the thing I liked best about the book. In her Newbery speech, Lowry said:

Those of you who hoped that I would stand here tonight and reveal the “true” ending, the “right” interpretation of the ending, will be disappointed. There isn’t one. There’s a right one for each of us, and it depends on our own beliefs, our own hopes.

I like that idea, that Lowry has written choice and freedom into the book as a kind of meta-reinforcement of the theme the book.

Unfortunately, from what I gathered by looking at reader comments on Goodreads, this is the first of a trilogy, and subsequent books foreclose the pessimistic reading I prefer.

Gender, race and sexual orientation are interesting in this book. Jonah’s mother, more intelligent, is in the Justice department and his father is a Nurturer, a kind of gender reversal. It’s slightly odd that sexual reproduction still takes place in that community (where are the clones?). In the era of “Sameness” there are no colors, so apparently no races or ethnicities. But what does that mean exactly? Lowry has said she conceived the world devoid of racism and other social ills. Do we have to get rid of race and ethnicity to get rid of racism? Finally, non-hetero sexualities do not exist.

I’m glad I read The Giver. I can now see why my students mention this book so often in my philosophy classes. I think it is possible to get into some interesting questions raised by The Giver, like the tradeoff between freedom and security, the individual versus the collective good, the relationship of the experience of suffering to true joy. But I do not think this book has very interesting things to say about those questions. I liked the prose, the setup, and the plot. I just wish, like David said, there was more of it.

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Beloved Children’s Books of Maine

Mar 03 2010 Published by under Children's Books, Reviews

We moved to Maine when my oldest child was 6 months old — almost a decade ago. We discovered a thriving literary culture here of readers and writers, across the spectrum of genres, from Stephen King to Tess Gerritsen to Terry Goodkind. We discovered quickly that this literary culture extends to children’s books. There are certain children’s books that were either written by Mainers or are about Maine that are so beloved and widely read here that they constitute a kind of mini-canon.

These are the books that are handed out by pediatricians at well child checkups, that school teachers read aloud to their classes, that are adapted into plays and put on in local theaters. These are the books that many born and bred Mainers have been passing down for generations, the books that they have extra copies of at their “camps” (Maine speak for summer cottage). And they are books that have been important in the “literary culture” of a certain funny looking white house in Bangor Maine.

Here are they are:

Goodnight Moon was published in 1947. Margaret Wise Brown lived in Connecticut and New York, but she had a summer home, called “Only House” in Vinalhaven, Maine. This is a sweet, simple story of a bunny saying good night to the different things in his room. Our children’s museum here in Bangor has the “Goodnight Moon room”, a 5 and under play area which looks identical to the room in the book. Illustrated by Clement Hurd, discerning readers will notice that the position of the moon and the lighting changes as each page turns. Another favorite by Brown is Runaway Bunny, but I always felt that one was a bit ominous (the little bunny threatens to run away and the mom pledges to hunt him down if he does).

Robert McCloskey wasn’t born in Maine but was living in Deer Isle, Maine upon his death in 2003. Make Way for Ducklings (1941), was his first and most popular book. It features baby ducks in line behind their mother waddling down busy Boston streets to find a home in the Boston Garden. Our family’s favorites are Blueberries for Sal (1948), in which a little girl and a bear cub each accidentally follow the other’s mother while gathering berries on a hill, and One Morning in Maine (1952), in which Sal loses her first tooth. Our children’s museum has a life size model of Burt Dow’s boat, with rain gear, rubber boots, and plastic fish.

Published in 1982, this story follows the life of Miss Rumphius from childhood to old age. I love it because Miss Rumphius, after hearing her grandfather talk about the exotic places he’s visited, chooses a nontraditional life of study, travel, and beauty. I like it that the oddness of her choices — remaining single and childfree — is reflected in the society of the book, where local children sort of don’t know what to make of her.

I also love it that Miss Rumphius scatters lupine seeds once she settles into her seaside home. This book is frequently put on as a play in our area. Lupines are prevalent in northern Maine and the eastern provinces of Canada. Whenever children see lupines growing wild on the side of the road after reading Miss Rumphius, they just might consider what they can do to make the world a better place.

The author, Barbara Cooney, who died in 2000 at her house in Damariscotta, Maine, considers this book semi-autobiographical. I believe the original paintings for her books set in Maine (this one and Hattie and the Wild Waves) are on display at Bowdoin College.

This book, based on the lovely “Garden Song” by Maine folk treasure Dave Mallett, is a family favorite. I cannot read it without singing it.  The Garden song is one of the most popular folk songs in the US, covered by Pete Seeger, Arlo Guthrie, John Denver, Peter Paul and Mary, you name it. You can see a video of Dave Mallett  performing it here (click the first video). My children have seen Mr. Mallett perform at their schools. He has been a wonderful contributor to the arts in Maine.

Here are a couple of newer books that our family considers classics:

Counting Our Way to Maine

This fun book, published in 1995, follows a family from its city home to a vacation in Maine. Each page counts the items they bring and see along the way. We start with “one baby” and end with  the “twenty fireflies” the family catches on its last night in Maine. The pictures are so detailed, you can linger over them for hours. The author isn’t from Maine, but she captures the feel of summertime here perfectly.

This book has special resonance for me, because our friends bought it for us when we were living, very unhappily, in Florida. I used to read it to my then newborn and dream of moving back to New England. It was a prophetic gift!

Thanks to the Animals

Maine is the  least racially diverse state in the US, with 95.3 percent whites (although there are other kinds of diversity). Author Allen Sockabasin is a Passamaquoddy, a part of the Penobscot Tribe, of which there are 3000 members in Maine. Adjacent to UMaine, where I teach, is The Penobscot Indian Island Reservation, with about 500 residents.  It would be hard to overstate the importance of Native American culture to Maine.

In this 2005 book, set in 1900, Little Zoo Sap and his family journey from their summer home on the coast to the deep woods for the winter. They travel on a bobsled pulled by big horses through the snow. When Zoo Sap falls off of the sled, the forest animals help him until his father returns to find him. The theme of humans as a part of the natural world is very Native and readers learn a little Passamaquoddy (the names of the animals) to boot.

We found out about this Maine author by attending a signing. Atwell’s illustrations have been described “a sort of Currier & Ives meets Grandma Moses.” In addition to its lovely illustrations, this quiet but enthralling book teaches a valuable lesson about the potentially devastating — ad restorative — effects of humanity on the environment. Atwell says: “There are so many talented children’s artists and authors that it is difficult to carve a niche truly one’s own in the world. My aim is to intrigue the child’s mind with a story they can’t predict, and do my best to make pictures that hold their attention. All the intangibles, I just hope for.”

That last line is a wonderful writer’s philosophy, isn’t it?

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