"Going Bovine" by Libba Bray

“A Wrinkle in Time” meets a marijuana-infused “Wizard of Oz” in this brilliant novel, the 2010 Printz winner by Libba Bray. Ms. Bray offers up a very different tale than her “Sweet Far Thing” series, this one focusing on a contemporary disaffected teen, 16 year-old Cameron Smith. Cameron is metaphorically dying in the conformity of his world, unaware that actual death is likely coming for him. When an unexpected diagnosis sends his brain into overdrive, we travel with Cameron on a life-changing journey. An early discussion of Schrodinger’s cat sets up the reader to understand that this journey may be real and/or may be metaphorical … but that doesn’t necessarily matter, does it? Cameron grows through his experiences, and many (many many many) fun allusions are made along the way (check out the names of the residents of the CESSNAB institute, or pages 216-217 regarding book banning …) Saying that this novel is both deep and clever is an understatement. If not for its significant length (nearly 500 pages) and a certain inevitable sadness, I could re-read it over and over and find something new each time. Ms. Bray’s relatable style continues with characters that are full-fledged and interesting. She somehow manages to put in surprises even when you know where things are going, and the story is a page-turner with a tremendously compelling storyline … I saw much of it playing out in my head like a film. This is definitely a worthy winner of the Printz Medal – and has the kind of mature content that leaves it utterly ignored by the Newbery folks. Their loss. I’ve already seen this book circulate a good bit and I’m not surprised. Once word gets out, I suspect it will not see the shelf much. The great irony is that, like the Newbery winner, this one deals with the “possibilities” of Physics. Which leaves me to wonder, are we a society in need of escape? Alternate realities and futures? The chance to change our fates? There certainly is a theme out there, and it does make you wonder. (PS, read the opening acknowledgements ... hysterical.)

"When You Reach Me" by Rebecca Stead

This year’s Newbery, like many of them, has a true sweetness to it. Easily a 6th grade book (the protagonists are sixth graders), it is a fast and fun read which I was able to get through in an afternoon. With similarities to Ellen Raskin’s “Westing Game”, it is, at its core, an homage to Madeleine L’Engle’s “A Wrinkle in Time”. If you were one of those people who read and adored the L’Engle book as a child, you will love Ms. Stead’s riff on the theme. If not, the book may come of as a “huh?”

Miranda is 12 year-old girl living in New York City in 1979. She goes to school near Times Square and has the typical ups and downs with friends, trying to navigate the changing landscape as boys discover that girls are actually a little different (!) I like the fact that unlike many of the books I have read recently, Miranda actually sounds like a 12 year-old. Her narrative voice speeds through thoughts and observes the world around her with a young girl’s confusion and sardonic humor (and much of my “laugh-out-loud” moments came from her takes on adult behavior). Miranda’s favorite book is “A Wrinkle in Time.” She reads it, and re-reads it, and re-re-reads it – carrying it around with her until the little paperback is near to shredded. While this book has a realistic premise, the denouement definitely harkens back to L’Engle and has a satisfying, if not surprising, twist. The writing is clean and straightforward and Miranda’s journey is engaging and delightfully “normal”. The home situation is not depressing (yay!) and much of it felt like the 70s I grew up in (unlike a previous Newbery winner, “Criss Cross”). Let’s hear it for a Newbery winner that should also have high appeal.

“Graceling” by Kristin Cashore

I am a bit perplexed by my reaction to this book. On one hand, I found it incredibly formulaic. A typical fantasy, there is a map of a mythical land in front and the tale of a “unique princess” who likes sword-fighting in the pages following. There are perilous journeys through forests and seas, the slightest hint of magic/mysticism and a good-looking prince who “irritates” the princess. All of which is pretty standard fare. Added to that a very convenient moment that occurs during one climax and the weighty 471 pages (there are lengthy, Dickensonian descriptions – no one “sits down”, they “sit in the chair next to her and lean sideways”) and you would think my reaction would be “eh”.

In fact, I loved it.

Yes, it is typical fantasy fare, but this is pretty much my favorite genre, so it wasn’t onerous. And no, I’m not a fan of romance, but they manage to keep things at a rough and tumble level (literally) for most of the book with very little “How can I ever be apart from you?” whining most of the time (yes, I did roll my eyes once or twice, but only once or twice). I think it is just fantasy done well. The language is formal enough to make you feel the different time/different place thing without being distanced by it (can I just say how much I hate fantasy books with contemporary language???) The adventure was compelling enough to make me want to turn the page – although the tramping about in the forest got a little old. But it got old for me in the Harry Potter books, too, so no big. The biggest draw was the richness of the characters. Yes, it is tremendously refreshing to return to a self-assured, kick-ass heroine like Katsa after struggling through the wimpy pity-party that is Bella, but she wasn’t the only character drawn in multi-dimensions. Every character, from love interest Po to random sailor, is given a physicality and style. It was easy to connect to people who felt real. The names are also cool – Princess Bitterblue being one of the more fun ones. And it is a deeper, darker book than you might expect for a fluffy fantasy. There is death here, and unnamed but easy-to-guess-at abuse. At least one injury took me by surprise. The sexual aspects of the story are covered with a bit more detail than I expected, although they seem to get fuzzy at exactly the right moments. Perhaps that is the great strength of the book – it has that perfect balance point. It’s not “too much” of anything but just the right amount of most things. In several ways, it echoed McCaffrey’s Pern books, and I kept remembering the thrill I had reading those – the rush as each new one came out. It is a sense of anticipation about a series I haven’t had in a long time. I read this book because the companion novel/prequel, “Fire” is showing up on most of the recommended lists coming out this time of year. I can’t wait to read it.

“Gacha Gacha” Vol. 1 by Hiroyuki Tamakoshi

First and foremost, I must say I am not a fan of Manga. For me, the characters all look alike, the pacing is slower than a bad daytime serial, and I find it really hard to follow the through-line with the backwards paneling. Not that the plots are overly deep – most remind me of skimming across the top of a pond on a still, hot day … no levels to be plumbed at all. Lastly, I’m not wild about the seemingly constant sexualization of women, most coming off barely better than your average Barbie. All that being said, take this review with a grain of salt.

So, why review something I don’t like? Because there was a complaint. Not from our community, mind you, but from someone outside the program, who chose to make their concerns known via a so-called “anonymous” word to TPTB. TPTB decided that, gee whiz, as the librarian, I would know what was best. Thank you.

So, I’ve spent several hours of my vacation time reading over this dreck. By dreck, I don’t mean that this is trash to be thrown out, rather, this is trash one reads when one wants to read trash. The first book of the series sets up the general tone – a teenage boy, Kouhei, is attracted to a girl he has grown up with (Kurara), finding it increasingly difficult to ignore her maturing body and his natural responses. So far, so good. The first chapter came off not unlike any one of the several “American Pie” movies. But then, Kouhei discovers Kurara has a secret! Her behavior has become more and more bizarre and increasingly sexual. She is finally forced to confess that she has developed multiple personalities. One of them, “Arisa” is a slut. How very convenient. Kouhei spends the rest of the book trying to protect his friend from herself and from his (almost impossible to control) urges. The thing plays out not unlike a combination of “The Stepford Wives” and teen boy’s wet dream. Any attempt to assign some greater psychological meaning to the story is a stretch – I mean, you could see this as metaphor for the difficult paths trod by boys and girls as they try to understand the nature of themselves and their sexual roles with one another in the teen years, but my sense is that this is really just all done in fun. By volume #2, we discover that Kurara’s personalities are a result of a video game that her mother developed which accidentally created several artificial intelligences in her daughter. So, you have a lusty teenage boy, a hot girl and a video game gone wrong … needless to say, this has been a popular series. Will I keep it? Yes. If I were to throw out every book that offended my feminist sensibilities (“Twilight”, Piers Anthony, Gossip Girls) then the fiction section wouldn’t have much. I guess the question is, does everything we own have to be an award-winning piece of brilliant literature? Nope. And this one definitely balances the scale in that department. If it offends – well, good. Books should offend, and challenge, and show the diversity of who we, as people, are. And yes, some of that humanity is horny little teens. What a shock. How dare we expose some element of the reality of their lives in the books they read. And for the record, I grew up reading anything (and everything) I wanted. And I became a librarian. There are worse things.

"Al Capone Does My Shirts" by Gennifer Choldenko

Here’s the big secret: Librarians don’t read every book in the collection. With 15,000+ tomes, it is simply not possible. For the most part, we buy (and recommend) based on awards, publishers, authors, reviews. In the case of this book, it had won the very prestigious Newbery Honor, and the author’s previous work was also lauded. Using reviews that extolled the humorous nature of the tale, I recommended it to many as a “funny” book. This is a case where I should have read the book! It is a great story, well-written and accessible. It is not a “downer” as so many teen books are, and it does have some serious laughs (for me, one at the very end). But it is not a “funny” book. It’s a very well-done historical fiction book that has characters which ring true and interesting information I didn’t know.

Moose Flanagan is a twelve year-old boy whose family has moved to Alcatraz in 1935. His father, an electrician, needed work and gets a job at the prison. Moose is not happy about leaving his friends and family and has typical struggles making new friends among the families living on the island. What makes Moose stand out (other than his appropriate name) is his sister Natalie, who has autism at a time before such a condition was able to be diagnosed. Virtually every character (minus a few prerequisite bad guys) is fully developed, and the historical information is woven in so seamlessly that it feels deeply contemporary. The shenanigans of the kids and Moose’s desire to just play baseball among his various responsibilities come off as real. The story was fun (if not “funny”) and enjoyable. I blasted through the book in two hours and would happily recommend it to most readers.

My one complaint, if there is one, is that the character of Moose seemed somewhat older than his years. This could be a function of having to grow up and be the “older sibling” before his time, but the dissonance between his 12 year-old behavior and the internal monologue which drives the book did bother me at times. I don’t see this being an issue for teen readers, but the given age of the lead character could turn off older readers who might otherwise like this book.

There is a succinct epilogue provided by the author to clarify the historical elements of the book and it did a nice job of wrapping up this snap-shot like moment in time.

TAB Reviews!

JR writes:

“The Possibilities of Sainthood” by Donna Freitas – I loved it because it is a real girl speaking to you (at least for me). But I could totally relate to her and what she did.

“What World is Left?” by Monique Polak
It’s very sad but very true. It makes you give thanks for what you have.

“Beware, Princess Elizabeth” by Carolyn Meyer
The best thing about this book was the “epic-ness” and suspense.

“Loving Will Shakespeare” by Carolyn Meyer
The best thing about this book was how it portrayed a simple English girl, also the romance that took place in the book.