“A Corner of White” by Jaclyn Moriarty

It’s funny how things work out.  First, I read a book by a UK author that seems to have been “Americanized” (much to my dislike) and the next book I pick up is written by an Australian, set in Cambridge, and about as British as it gets.  “A Corner of White” was completely delightful.  Always great to read a book that makes you really want to pick it up and see what happens next.  Like many of the Australian works gracing YA shelves today, this book was challenging, unexpected, clever, rich, literary and very “fresh.”  I don’t know what it is about the “down under” crowd, but they have a gift at coming up with tales that seem totally new.  In this complex novel, there are two stories.  One is that of Madeleine, a girl thoroughly of the modern world.  Dealing with family issues and a drastically changed life, she sludges through the “grey” of Cambridge, missing her iPad, doing internet research for her homeschooling and struggling with the vagaries of teenage friendships.  In the parallel story there is Elliot Baranski, a citizen of the Kingdom of Cello, trying to solve the mystery of his father’s disappearance and help an ailing town pick itself up.  Cello is an interesting place – having both cars and dragons (supposedly).  Madeleine and Elliot are both a bit lost, desperately needing answers to questions and both seeking something they are unsure of.  Inexplicably, their worlds mesh.  It isn’t about worlds colliding, though – but kind of “bumping up against one another.”  Their interaction, like much of the tale, is gentle and subtle.  The voices of both characters are grippingly real.  You find yourself envisioning them as friends or colleagues.  The story paces and builds well, creating that critical page-turning quotient, but I had to force myself to slow down frequently to get all the little details.  “Deep” doesn’t begin to describe a book with so many threads that you may find yourself flipping back from chapter to chapter in order to be clear on how they connect.  History and Science also weave into the tale in unexpected and wonderful ways.  The first in a trilogy, this novel can stand on its own and has a satisfying resolution, but the next book should be fabulous if it measures up to this one.  My only two beefs (very minor) are the cover art (don’t I always complain about this??), which makes it look like a romance; and the ages of Madeleine and her friends.  They are supposedly 15, but read younger … which is highly unusual for a teen book (typically, it’s the reverse).  They aren’t out of bounds, though.  Fifteen is such a strange age … no longer kids but not quite as savvy as older teens.  It’s an age when parents think you are “grown up enough” to hear some truths, even though hearing them makes one want to curl up with a blankie.  It’s a betwixt and between age, which, I’m guessing, is what the author was going for.  A very satisfying read and one which definitely sated the palate.  Brava.

“Samphire Song” by Jill Hucklesby

For once, the cover art is to-the-point on the nature of the book.  This is a novel about a teenage girl and a horse.  Like all books with this theme, it has a girl with some personal issues sinking herself into the world of equines and finding solace there.  The writing is good – lyrical even, if you find the shining of tack and the green grass of a paddock lyrical.  I did like the emotional tone in terms of caring for a difficult, abused animal, having been there myself.  I also liked that the family structure is pretty solid.  Mom and brother are both loving, fun and supportive.  Jodie (our protagonist) is a nice young woman whose only real world is spent with her family or in the stables.  The 16 year-old’s school life barely factors in.  The novel is “okay” without being brilliant.  It’s not a bad book – it pulls at all of your heartstrings as expected -- it’s just hugely predictable and the story structure pretty basic.  The tale doesn’t flow so much as it stops and starts with each chapter.  There were absolutely no surprises, including the pre-requisite horse-race which seemed superfluous to the storyline by the time it finally happened.  I was slightly perplexed by the lack of British-isms, however.  Clearly set in England, the book appears to have been “revised” for American audiences … changing out dollars for pounds, states for districts, etc.  In some ways, this added to the general blandness of this novel by making the setting and character dialogue ambiguous.  In the end, those who love a good horse story will *love* this tale (or is that “tail”?)

"Life After Life" by Kate Atkinson

I read this one because several colleagues remarked that this was "one of their favorite books this year."  It also has outstanding reviews, with many comparing it to "Code Name Verity."  Like many experiences these past few weeks, however, the book was sadly a disappointment.  It's not ~that~ bad, just not “fab,” as I had expected.  The issue may be more about my tastes than the novel itself, but it was not a joy to read.  It is literary with a capital "L.”  Just in case you don’t get the deep meanings and symbolism, nearly every page has a literary or philosophical quote to reinforce the narrative.  You'll find everyone from Shakespeare to Nietzsche here.  The premise is fascinating -- if you could go back in time and repeat your personal history over and over, would you be able to "get it right?"  The problem, in my mind, is the execution.  Among other things, this is a very, very "British" tale.  What does that mean?  It's dry, emotionally muted and Dickensian in description.  It doesn't race, it meanders.  Every random thought is explored, every character’s full history delved into, regardless of the role they play in the tale.  Despite the tremendous stakes (the book begins with an intriguing page in which our heroine, Ursula, points a gun at a young Hitler) little seems to actually happen.  After the brief intro we have some 500 pages with Ursula living and re-living her young life focusing on her quaint country home with foxes, rabbits, tea, roast beef and a great number of puddings.  She dies a few times, is reborn a few times, there are more tales of foxes and rabbits and tea and then she finally starts growing up.  Eventually, there is a good deal of sex ... rape, extramarital affairs, unwanted pregnancies, all related as bloodlessly as everything else, given no more weight or tone than the digging through of rubble and bodies after the London Blitz.  Ursula doesn't feel great passion other than having overwhelming déjà vu, she has little motivation until the end and when the whole thing wraps up it is more with a fizzle than a bang.  I would have put the book down ... I tried, but kept hoping that all the "threads" would come together with some sort of great meaning.  I was left scratching my head, instead, wondering why so many inconsequential plotlines were included -- many of which for no seeming purpose whatsoever.  I thought back to the people who had loved this book so much.  A few things are likely:  a) they are most likely faster readers than me, b) they may enjoy books that meander, rather than careen c) they probably have not read nearly as much Science Fiction as I have.  That last point is important, because it means I have something to compare it to.  Time travel is heavily used in the genre.  Issues of ethics and our role in the greater picture are constantly explored.  In other words, I've seen it done better.  This ain't "Code Name Verity" and for me, anyway, it was a dud.  Patient readers, enjoy.  I'm off to find something a tad more lively.

"far far away" by Tom McNeal

With a lot of chat in professional library circles, this TAB title reminded me of recent reads "Splendor and Glooms" and "A Tangle of Knots."  It isn't a little kids book but there is an innocence to the characters and a level of class and gently literary writing that elevates it beyond much of the current YA fare.  Clever, soft, funny and touching, it is the story of "a girl, a boy and a ghost" in a semi-mythical 1970s era Texas town, called "Never Better."  Much of the tone of the tale comes from the ghost, an omnipresent narrator who draws heavily on the stories and lives of the Brothers Grimm.  It is a great book with eponymously named characters, laughs, a dash of romance, serious undertones, a mystery or two and a villain that you either do or don't see coming (yeah, I did, but it didn't ruin the novel one bit for me).  It was something I looked forward to reading -- a smart page-turner with a very satisfying ending that left me grabbing for a tissue and feeling slightly verklempt.  It's got darkness ... this is, after all, in the style of Grimm ... but there is  beauty, too.  In all, utterly satisfying.  If I can get kids past the "blah" cover, I suspect we will have a winner.