"The Rock and the River" by Kekla Magoon

There was something in the timing of this book. I had just attended the dedication of the Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial and had been thinking a lot about how it must have felt to grow up as a child of the famous preacher (two of his children spoke at the ceremony). Not three days later, I picked up this book to read for an upcoming conference. It is the story of Sam and his brother, Steven ("Stick") who are the sons of a famous (but fictional) civil rights leader in Chicago. It is 1968 and while their father preaches nonviolence, both boys struggle with questions about the right path to follow, particularly as the Black Panther Party grows in strength and numbers in their inner city neighborhood. Unlike "Patterson Heights" the cover art is accurate. Sam is 13 and the image on the book looks like a 13 year-old. For the most part, Sam acts 13, struggling to find the right words to say to a cute girl he likes and idolizing his older brother. Unfortunately, this first novel for the young author Kekla Magoon is a tad inconsistent in "voice." When bad things happen, and they did in this period of history, Sam pops out of being a kid to being a mouthpiece for Magoon's literary skills. Take this passage, "On the left wall, surrounding the windows, hung a huge curtain of African-print cloth. Deep blue swirled among lighter shades, like ocean draped in sky. The room had a voice of its own, a scream of outrage, a whisper of truth, and in the corner, a murmuring cry." It's beautiful, even prophetic, but it isn't consistent with the thoughts of your average 13 year old. There are many ways this could have been addressed -- Sam could have been made older, or the narrative could have been third person instead of first person, giving the opportunity for a meta-voice behind the story. Ms. Magoon could have split the narrative between Sam and his older brother, a popular trend these days, to give a variety of perspectives. As it is, the novel didn't really work for me. I didn't feel the book was bad but it was distracting. Every time the narrative began to wax poetic I felt a disconnect from the character. The end result is that this book came off more as one of those 1970 message novels than a compelling story. "The Rock and the River" is a parable -- one that gets repeated in some form three times in the book. On one hand, it's like we are being beaten over the head "This is the MORAL," but on the other hand, the full parable is never explained (nor could I find it on Google) so it was frustrating on multiple levels. My general "ehh" feeling on the book is a rarity. It has won numerous awards and is considered a notable title. So give it a shot, particularly if you don't get stuck on little minutiae like me.

"Ghosts of War: The True Story of a 19 Year-Old GI"

This is not an anti-war book. It is not a pro-war book. It is not a policy essay nor a social commentary. It is the story of a young man who loses his innocence -- and loses it in a far more profound way than most. Ryan Smithson was a high school student who joined the military after watching the twin towers fall. At 19 he was sent to Iraq. This is a nonfiction account of his 12 months there. Told in short vignettes, the story is dry and to the point. He doesn't load in sentimentality or opinion, just tells tale after tale of the boring days, the hard days, the scary days. There are laughs along the way, and a lot of detail on what a soldier might do other than "capture cities." Ryan is an equipment operator who helps to pave roads, fix bridges, shore up barriers. In his words, there is nothing glamorous about the work, nothing that will get him and his fellow brothers-in-arms on the news, but their efforts are vital to the day-to-day operations in the war zone. The matter-of-fact style of the book actually makes it more powerful. It's clear from the beginning that Ryan's stoic narrative is about his need to distance himself emotionally from the events surrounding him. When he finally does have to face the struggles he experienced, I cried with him. Specialist Smithson did not write this book to make a statement, he wrote it as catharsis. It is powerful, well-crafted and may be a good insight into how the soldiers on the ground are coping with the war that will not end. Ryan is not making a political statement, he is making a personal one. The choice to serve was personal, the experiences were indelible, and he should be thanked for working so hard not only to share this part of his life, but to help the reader truly understand. Stunningly good and worth the read. Bravo, sir.

"Patterson Heights" by Felicia Pride

Avery Washington is a good kid. Living in Baltimore's inner city, he is part of a gifted program at school, goes to church on Sundays, idolizes his older brother, Rashid, and has two parents who have scraped and saved to start a college fund for the boys. Avery's life changes in an instant, when his brother is killed by a senseless act. It is a story oft-told about young black men in the city, and we rarely get an inside look into the realities of what life is like in the months following such an event. Echoing both "Speak" by Laurie Halse Anderson and "The Year Without Michael" by Susan Beth Pfeffer, the grief here is palpable. Avery goes silent. Unable to speak through his sadness, his thoughts and insights border on the poetic. His strong family falls apart and he finds himself living like a shadow in a small apartment with a mother and father who are as distant as strangers. While he doesn't realize it initially, he is lucky. People come into his life who end up being different kinds of supports at this difficult time. The writing is strong and the character compelling. You truly want Avery to find his way back from the gloom. However ... this is a very different world, complete with a different vocabulary. In many books of this kind, the author tries to give the reader context to understand what they are reading. In Walter Dean Myer's "145th Street," for example, the language is true to the setting, but he creates narrators or contexts that allow the reader to enter into that world. That is not the case here. In many ways, it feels like this book, part of the "Kimani Tru" series, is written solely for inner city kids. I'm not sure how I feel about that. I mean, last month I read about a teenage girl who discovers, in Nigeria, that she is part of the "Leopard People." It was a completely alien civilization, but the author provided enough context for me to get it. Here was a story about good old America, and yet, I felt that some of the language and sociology being portrayed was shutting me out, that I was unwelcome as a reader because I didn't fit the demographics the series shoots for. This, of course, is my take. It would be interesting to see if my students feel the same. My only other beef is with the cover art, which makes Avery look like some hot 20 something, instead of the slightly geeky 15 year-old he actually is. Never a fan of misleading folks with cover art. Despite the complaints, the story is compelling and the emotion real. It's worth a read, even if you don't get all the references.

"Yummy: The Last Days of a Southside Shorty" by G. Neri, illustrated by Randy DuBurke

This fast-reading graphic novel tells the story of "Yummy" an eleven year-old boy shot to death in Chicago's ghetto after committing numerous crimes, including murder. The story is told from the perspective of the fictional character, Roger, a neighborhood boy trying to resolve the unsolvable ... was Yummy a victim or a predator? The book has garnered numerous awards and is a nice, succinct retelling of a short life, but it doesn't stray much from the source material, namely the news reports that swirled around the 'hood in those final days. It is almost factual in the dispassionate presentation, although the black and white ink drawings manage to convey some of the emotions pouring out of the community. The drawings are both good -- they use close-ups with detailed hatching for emphasis; and bad -- both Yummy and his grandmother are drawn inconsistently, giving me double-takes from time to time as to who the character was. One thing that nagged at me was why our narrator, Roger, would have a brother in the same gang as Yummy when his home life seemed quite stable. I couldn't help but feel it was an artificial device used to make a point. Other than that, the subject matter was terrific, the story-telling clean, but the overall effect for me was "okay."

"Half Brother" by Kenneth Oppel

It's 1973 and Ben Tomlin is not a happy camper. His parents just made him leave the bustle of Toronto to live in a farmhouse in Victoria, and now his mother comes home with a new baby brother. He has to make new friends, figure out how to get a girl to like him and his parents seem to forget his 13th birthday. The twist is -- the new baby brother isn't human, he's a chimp. Ben's parents are researchers and they are attempting to teach his brother, "Zan" sign language. A fictional tale that draws heavily on an actual experiment ("The Chimp That Learned Sign Language" http://www.npr.org/2008/05/28/90516132/the-chimp-that-learned-sign-language) this is a story that is engaging and warm. Ben is a normal kid, going through typical teen trauma -- the bully kid, the girl he likes who may or may not like him, a father who can't connect. But Ben is more than that, he is a young boy bonding with a "younger brother" who is unique. Early on, I saw the inevitable issues arise. Somewhat more intense than your average Lassie story, this one goes down the path you might expect, and breaks your heart along the way. Through the last third of the book, it was kleenex central. You can't help but come to love Ben and Zan, and realize that there really is no place for them to "be" as a family. Minor complaints about a lack of editing (Ben's reactions to stress become repetitive and make him occasionally feel a little whiney) and no author's note (given that this is a barely fictionalized account of a real event, details on the actual experiment should have been provided) are not enough to ruin an otherwise excellent tale that should have broad appeal. Despite the historical setting, the characters come off as contemporary and real, young people that most teens could relate to. The book also provides an excellent discussion point -- was this experiment ethical? Are any animal experiments of this type worth it?

"Hate List" by Jennifer Brown

The really good authors excel at "what if?" What if a teenage girl, used to being bullied, turned to a boyfriend for solace, and the two of them created a list of all the people they wished would "go away?" What if the boyfriend shows up at school one day and began killing all of those on the "hate list?" What if the girl lived? Then what? Much like the Walter Dean Myers book "Monster," this novel explores a horrific act from the viewpoint of someone at the center of the storm. Valerie is a girl in crisis. She doesn't know who she is and desperately needs to understand whether she is hero or villain. The solid writing doesn't answer these questions directly, but lets the tale spin out as it should, leaving the reader to interpret and, perhaps, judge. Told in brutal detail, if this were a movie it would be filmed nearly entirely in close-up. Broken into four parts, the story swings from one time period to another in the initial part, mirroring Valerie's state of mind as she attempts to comprehend events that seem almost surreal. As she gains clarity, the timeline locks into the present. Newspaper clippings reflect a societal viewpoint, while teardrops of varying degrees of darkness open each chapter. The book ends as it should, with only one small sentence jumping out at me as being overly optimistic. It is an excellent novel, and one that will be talked about ... but it was terrifically hard to read. Much like "Lovely Bones" this is not a title I would have selected for myself, but one I read in anticipation of attending a book discussion. Emotionally, it left me totally wrecked. Maybe, as an educator, it was too painful to think about. Maybe, as a person who could see where Valerie was coming from, it was too close to home. There are bright spots in the fog of Valerie's life, but not many. Needless to say, I will be choosing to follow up with something that doesn't leave me with bad dreams. This is a great read, it's just not particularly fun. Brava to Ms. Brown, a young woman who created a stunning debut novel.

"Marcelo in the Real World" by Francisco X. Stork

"Be in the world but not of the world." A biblical quote with tremendous meaning and weight in regard to this book, Mr. Stork has provided us with another story of Asperger's Syndrome. Like "Mockingbird" and "The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time" this tale gives the reader a very up-close look into the mind of someone who sees the world through a different lens. Unlike those other novels, this one has a lighter tone, and is more about day-to-day living than any specific tragedy (although there is a mystery of sorts). Marcelo is a 17 year-old who takes us into his reflections in a roundabout way, often using a third person narrative to describe his life. His "special interest" is religion, and religious themes play a nice counterpoint to the ideas and concepts addressed as Marcelo attempts to navigate a new path. Marcelo is very real and very compelling. It didn't take long to care about a young man who honestly wants to do the right thing. In the end, it was a book I stayed up late at night to finish because I simply had to see how things would turn out for him. The novel was another winner of the Schneider Family Award, given to books which detail those living with the disability experience. Marcelo would want me to say that a) he is not disabled and b) he does not have Asperger's, he has an undiagnosed condition that most closely resembles Asperger's. Marcelo is nothing if not specific. The book is a lovely story of discovering the wider world and of gaining insight along the way. It is easy to see why it has been given honors and awards. Take this journey with Marcelo.