“Wonder” by R.J. Palacio

When “The One and Only Ivan” won the Newbery Award there was a good deal of chatter that this book, “Wonder,” should have won.  Ironically, “Wonder,” which is a very good book with a plethora of starred reviews and raves, came up empty at award season … not even winning a Schneider Award, which it is aptly suited for.  My take is this:  “Wonder” is terrific.  “The One and Only Ivan” is terrific.  Both pull at your heart-strings a-plenty.  Both humanize protagonists who are ostracized and stared at.  “The One and Only Ivan,” however, is a more literary book, and the Newbery has always been an award about literary quality – and notably not about popularity or even stories that are particularly engaging (I refer to “Criss-Cross” here…among others).  Nonetheless, I agree that this book should have been given some award somehow.  “Wonder” is the story of August, a boy born with tremendous facial deformities.  After a childhood spent in multiple surgeries and lengthy recovery periods, he enters a public school for the first time in the 5^th grade.  As imagined, Auggie’s road is a little rough, given his looks and middle school mentalities.  The book is not a “downer” however, and is very much about perseverance – Auggie’s spirit is indefatigable, and his determination to live his life clearly makes him a “Wonder.”  This could almost be a regular old “school story.”  Auggie’s reflections, and the interactions around him, are not substantially different from the many tales of pre-teens trying to fit in.  Told in short chapters (our reading teacher used it as a read-aloud), the point of view is mostly that of August, but from time to time the POV switches to others around him.  I use the term “around him” very literally.  Like all children with significant health issues, the siblings tend to be ignored.  Auggie’s sister notes that he is the sun, while she and the rest of the family orbit around him.  Each “part” that signals a change in narrator recreates the cover image of a face with one eye – changing the hairstyle or other details to indicate different people.  It visually highlights the fact that each person talking is reflection of Auggie’s world.  The only flaw in the book, IMHO is that there are some minor inconsistencies in these break-out sections and some questions left unanswered.  If judges were picky (they would have to be) this small issue may have kept the book out of medal contention last winter.  Who knows?  Set in New York city, this 11 year-old boy seems more mature than average, but that fits given the setting and the trials he has had to endure.  With tremendously supportive parents, the story  is very warm and fuzzy.  On the whole, it is a feel-good tale.  There is even an amusing appendix, complete with a “precepts” assignment given by one teacher.  The only lasting mystery is R.J. Palacio, who is the author but the name is a pseudonym.  Is it possible that this is the real sister of the fictional “August”?  Possibly.  In any case, the novel is told with love, and that shines through every page.  Enjoy.

“The False Prince” by Jennifer A. Nielsen

Mmm.  Yummy.  This was one I stayed up late at night to finish, and unlike so many of the series books I preview, I am eagerly awaiting a chance to read the next installment.  Classified as a fantasy, it is fairly un-fantasy-like.  Neither a wizard nor a dragon graces these pages … no magic or mythical beasts here.  Instead, count on palace intrigue, action, mystery and a twist or two you may or may not see coming (I did, but it didn’t ruin the story).  Sage is one of four orphans taken by a nobleman to train for a ruse that could topple this medieval kingdom (yeah, it’s not hard to guess at, given the title).  Told heavily in first person, internal narrative, the story is dark but not too dark.  Sage has serious attitude but it isn’t off-putting.  He is clever and quick – I enjoyed his efforts to “play” the adults around him and his refusal to bend to the will of others.  His iron will, not unlike my own, made him a very strong, real character.  The tale moves slowly, but not too slowly, making me ache to read the next chapter.  The writing is good without being overly literary.  Yes, I'm using a lot of qualifiers here -- to be honest it is hard to say exactly why I liked it so much (many student readers do, too).  Showing up on a good number of “recommended” booklists this year, I think the the characters are engaging and the story well-told.  It’s simply “good” with only one flaw in the entire book (IMHO).  The ending, both wrapping up threads from this round and preparing for the next in the series, seemed a little rushed and slightly convenient … but there were lots of hints along the way, so readers shouldn't be surprised.  “Runaway King,” book two of this series, is already out.  I may have to use the public library to get it – I can’t wait to see what happens next. 

“The Girl Who Circumnavigated Fairyland in a Ship of Her Own Making” by Catherynne M. Valent

With a lot of Lewis Carroll, a little L. Frank Baum and clear homages to C.S. Lewis and Tolkien, it is easy to see why so many reviewers are enamored with the literary quality of this little book, but also why it has taken dedicated readers to delve in and enjoy it.  Told in the third person with a narrator who steps out of the action to make arch comments (a la Kate DiCamillo and Lemony Snicket) this is the tale of “September,” a precocious 11 year-old living in Omaha, Nebraska.  Unhappy with the state of things (her father has gone off to war, her mom works in a factory doing mechanical things) she longs for adventure and something different.  By page two of our book, she has been whisked away by the Green Wind and his Leopard to go to “Fairyland” – a place neither here nor there, but very much everywhere.  The adventures are plentiful, with each chapter titled to indicate the struggles of the moment, as in “Chapter II, The Closet Between Worlds … In Which September Passes Between Worlds, Asks Four Questions and Receives Twelve Answers, and Is Inspected by a Customs Officer.”  The book is rich in allusion and symbolism, drawing heavily on the works mentioned above and on philosophy, religion and folklore.  At 247 pages, it should have been a fast read, but it was not.  The vocabulary is not only high-level, but the sentence structures dense, forcing the reader to slow down their reading to fully appreciate the weaving of the story.  There are known mythical creatures and others that seem to be the fanciful creations of the author.  For those with mild OCD, such as myself, it is a challenging book, since almost every inanimate object encountered has a personality, name and story (the opening of the book has a listing of “Dramatis Personae”).  There is even a creature made of bits of leftover soap mashed up together -- that character nearly stole my heart.  I enjoyed this very rich book, but didn’t relish it initially – the unfortunately side-effect of talking “about” September is that it can take a while to warm up to her.  According to the narrator, the girl is a “somewhat heartless” child.  Like all fantasies, however, September makes boon companions of odd folks who cross her path and her loyalty to them ended up endearing her to me a bit.  The ending also had a twist or two I didn’t see coming, which was refreshing.  The artwork, by Ana Juan, is quite delightful, and clearly designed to evoke memories of John Tenniel’s original artwork for “Alice in Wonderland” (more in substance than style).  In any case, the images complement the story well, and heighten the emotional tone of each section.  While the book deserves the chatter it has received, I’m not sure how to market it.  The character is 11 but much like “Alice in Wonderland” this isn’t really a child’s book.  There are bloody battles here and there and a kind of patience required to meander through … a quality not typically present in our current teen population of Millenial Multitaskers.  Even the title is arch.  September doesn’t spend most of the book in a sailboat circling Fairyland, as one would presume; rather, the title uses a chapter or two in the tale as a metaphor for the child's internal journey.  In many ways, the story is a throw-back to a time when delving into a book like this was a whole experience in and of itself.  Hopefully, a sensitive reader or two will seek it out and talk it up to their friends.

“Splendors and Glooms” by Laura Amy Schlitz

People seem to think that the Victorian era was all about wholesomeness and light, given the image of a very “proper” Queen and the proclivity at the time to change the endings of Shakespeare’s tragedies.  As this brilliant novel shows, the Victorian times were really about filth and degradation and darkness and death, and particularly about DRAMA.  There is actually a hilarious exchange, early on, when one character “plays out a scene” with a housekeeper having a fit.  Remember … this was the Industrial Age, replete with shadowy figures like Jack the Ripper, Jekyll and Hyde and a Christmas story which begins with a horrific ghost.  With faint echoes of “Seraphina” by Rachel Hartman and Cornelia Funke’s “Thief Lord” this rich and complex book includes a witch named Cassandra, dying of old age, and perhaps magic (“Magic always comes with a price” – sayeth the producers of OUAT); a puppet master named Grisini, whose very name evokes “greasy”; an orphaned girl named Lizzie Rose; her workhouse companion, Parsefall; and a sad little rich girl, Clara.  Taking the title from the Shelley poem, “Adonais,” the novel weaves storylines in ways you almost never see coming and has writing that is mature and layered.  There are enough description to paint a detailed picture but the narrative is in no way dragged down.  Rather, it sucks you in.  Take this example:  “…the frozen lake reflected the colors in the sky:  gray and lilac, pale rose and flaxen yellow.  The trees on the shore cast deep shadows onto the ice, rimming the lake in black.”  A literary delight, the author employs many devices that other writers are unable to pull off – such as a constantly changing point of view – but is deft and careful with her tale, spinning it out in a way that makes you feel as if you are there.  I did spend much of the book somewhat confounded.  “What is this about, and where is it going?” I wondered, but with a delicious sense of anticipation.  It is one of those rare books where I simply had to know what happened next, but was unwilling to see it end (it is, thankfully, NOT a part of a series).  With little actual blood, there is morality here.  In discussing the loss of one of the villains, Ms. Schlitz writes that the character “was a monster, but she would not deny him the hospitality of a grave.”  Fascinating to read that on the same day as the headlines blare that no cemetery in the U.S. will give the body of suspected terrorist Tamerlan Tsarnaev a place to rest.  It made me think, but then, this is a book that does that.  With a complex vocabulary and a childlike but chilling cover, I’m not sure who might pick it up.  That’s a shame.  This 2013 Newbery Honor was hands down one of the best books I’ve read this year.  Make the time and escape into a truly wonderful story.

“Anya’s Ghost” by Vera Brosgol

Anya is an unhappy teen.  Daughter of a Russian immigrant, she prides herself on her lack of an accent, rejects her mother’s home cooking and avoids all contact with another Russian student who is “fresh off the boat.”  She is snarky, angsty, moody, and nearly friendless (her one companion is more frenemy than friend).  Going out for a surreptitious smoke one night she falls into a deep hole – and discovers a ghost.  A strange relationship develops between Anya and the ghost which ranges from barest tolerance to appreciation.  All is not what it seems, however, and the tale took a far darker twist than I ever could have imagined.  In retrospect, this is definitely not a “comic book for little kids.”  It is, in fact, fairly creepy.  The graphic novel has a pleasing purple background behind black and white drawings.  Use of this one muted color palette creates an appropriate feel for the book and fits well with the diverse settings.  Panels scan easily and many are wordless, making for smooth flow and underpinning emotional tones.  Anya and the ghost are the major characters, everyone else – including her family – seem to barely register.  Teenagers are, in fact, very often “in their head” – this book seems to epitomize that.  One odd note is the friend, who is clearly female, but dresses in a masculine manner.  There is no indication of why this is allowed at a private school where girls must wear those hideous plaid skirts.  It was the only element of the story that distracted – not sure what it was or why it was there.  That being said, the “messages” of the book are subtle but healthy.  In the beginning, there is the typical teenage crush.  Anya’s reaction to the reality she then discovers shows her inner moral self.  In the end, how Anya reacts to the horrors she faces gives you a sense of what she might become.  A fast read (in one or two settings) this was a “hand-to-hand” book which a student requested before I got it back on the shelf.  Although it didn’t receive any notable awards this year, it had some buzz.  I can see why.  Neil Gaiman’s quote on the cover is just a hint that this one is worth the look.

“The Last Apprentice, Revenge of the Witch” by Joseph Delaney

Started out “okay,” quickly went to “ehh” and ended as a “blah.”  The first of the ever-growing Wardstone Chronicles, it’s telling that I have no interest in reading the next book in the series.  A boilerplate fantasy, this one is ostensibly placed in a kind of late middle-ages England.  Young Thomas Ward is the seventh son of a seventh son and is tapped to apprentice under a “Spook” whose occupation is the ridding of ghosts, goblins, and ghouls in neighboring villages.  While the pen and ink drawings and large, unique font make it visually engaging, I was less impressed with the storyline and prose.  Maybe it’s a British thing, but the pacing seemed inordinately slow and the overall tone was pedantic and plodding.  Much like the last book I read, the action scenes dragged and I had little interest in turning the page to see “what happens next.”  Thomas is supposed to be 13 but comes off as a flat, too-eager-to-please 11 year-old.  He is naïve and a goody-two-shoes.  There is also a troubling undertone of women being “difficult” which I didn’t care for.  The witches in this book are all of the bad kind and “Spook” warns Thomas off from women in general quite early in the narrative.  Thomas is supposedly his mother’s favored child and he holds her in great esteem, but she reads decidedly non-maternal.  She is depicted as stern, demanding and limited in affection (maybe it’s a “Gibbs” thing??) so the childlike affection he professes seems misplaced.  Lastly, there is gory violence that is far out of spec for this otherwise tame tale.  The “Ranger’s Apprentice” series by Australian John Flanagan began about a year and a half after this book was published and there are tremendous similarities, but, IMHO, Flanagan did it better.  Reviewers have painted this as the next Farthest Shore Trilogy, with deep moral issues to plumb, but personally, I don’t feel the writing here is anywhere as good as in LeGuin’s books.  Boy-friendly, most of the young men who have read it say it is “okay” but haven’t stuck in for the long haul (also, like Ranger’s Apprentice, this series is stretching into double digits).  If a younger reader can stomach the queasier parts (“meat cakes” with a mystery ingredient is one example) then it may appeal.  As for me, I’m off to stronger fantasy fare (when, oh when, will Patrick Rothfuss finish the Kingkiller Chronicles?)

"Heat Rises" by Richard Castle

If anything proves that these books, produced by ABC in conjunction with the “Castle” TV show, are written by a variety of authors, this third novel in this series is it.  While still good, it is very clearly written by a different author from the first two titles.  All of the books are stories within stories to a degree … the characters in the books are extrapolations of the characters on the TV show.  On the show, writer Richard Castle follows around Detective Kate Beckett and her cohorts, Esposito and Ryan.  In the books, these characters become writer Jameson Rook, Detective Nikki Heat and sidekicks Ochoa and Raley.  The books often use snippets of storylines found in the show, but they weave new tales.  The novels go further than the TV show with somewhat steamier, more violent content appropriate to the hard-boiled detective novel genre.  This particular book has a priest murdered in an S&M studio, a Latin civil rights organization that may or may not be fronting for drugs and weapons smuggling, a political minefield at Police Headquarters, an old case surrounding a celebrity’s spiral into drugs, a military hit squad that may or may not be connected to a private black ops group, and enough bad leads and suspects to make your head spin.  Whoever wrote this book was consistent – the characters remain the same, with language and flow nearly identical to the first two books.  This author, however, is different in the level of detail and specificity he brings to the writing.  Every single instant is explored.  While this sometimes gives a strong image (so important to figure out all those clues!) it also drags down action sequences a bit.  The two “big” battles in the book seem to go on forever (IMHO).  The detailed prose is evident in the length of the book, which is a full hundred pages longer than the first in the series.  There are plusses to this new writer, however – more humor, for one; and at least two Firefly references that I was able to catch.  Whoever wrote it clearly did his homework – watching the show and probably reading the first two titles (“Heat Wave” and “Naked Heat”).  Fans of the show will find lots of little Easter Eggs here to smile at, including the Castle character’s self-congratulatory preen in the first season of the TV show, stating “I am ruggedly handsome, aren’t I?” as well as a subtle homage to Stephen J. Cannell’s “21 Jump Street.”  In any case, like the first two books, this one is selling well and rose to #1 on the New York Times Bestseller list in its debut week.

So, who wrote them?  And why am I calling the writer a “he?”  Well, I enjoy being a bit of a detective myself, and have surmised that Stephen J. Cannell wrote the first, and most likely second books (Cannell sadly passed away from  Melanoma in 2010).  I’m familiar with his extensive body of work, and the books just “read like him."  Also, under the author picture of Nathan Fillion aka “Castle” on the back of those two books, there is a quote attributed to Cannell praising the writing.  This newest book has no quote under the photo, but all of the books have congratulatory quotes on the front – the first is James Patterson, the second is Mitch Connelly and the third is Dennis Lehane.  All three have appeared as guests on the TV show and ABC producers shyly hint that the author is, in fact, someone who has been "seen on the show.”  I’m betting on Lehane.  I’ve read Patterson, and don’t feel the specificity in this book is his style.  I haven’t read Connelly or Lehane, but Mr. Lehane's bio reads as the kind of “writer’s writer” that might have produced this piece of work.  We’ll see.  Likely, we will not know for sure until long after the TV show has left the air – which will probably not happen anytime soon, as the ratings continue to soar for the alphabet network.  In the meantime, happy reading.  And TV watching.

"One of Those Hideous Books Where the Mother Dies" by Sonya Sones

Poetry novels, a growing trend in recent years, have really hit their stride. An excellent example is this clever book by Sonya Sones. Yes, the book is told in poems and yes, the mother is dead. Like most of the good poetry novels, I found myself sucked in from the beginning, as our lead character Ruby begins her huge transition to a very different life. Ruby’s voice is that of a really interesting and witty young woman. The writing isn’t overly deep, but it is engaging, and the characters feel real (a nicely unexpected turn, given the Hollywood setting). A clean and simple story, the details really “make it”. Page graphics start as planes and become palm trees, showing the transition for Ruby, and the subtle notes are the ones that make you smile as you read this. The surprises are interesting but expected – I knew two of them long before they happened, but it is the warm and fuzzy feeling I got with this book that makes it one of the more enjoyable I’ve read of late.

“The Unwanteds” by Lisa McMann

A student in my bookclub suggested this one and I couldn’t have been happier.  Advertised as “The Hunger Games Meets Harry Potter” it is a nice little book which echoes Harry Potter (and Percy Jackson) but not so much the death and depression found in “Hunger Games.”  It’s more like “Matched,” “The Giver” and other dystopian worlds which look clean and shiny on the outside and are corrupt and morally bankrupt on the inside.  SPOILER ALERT.  You only spend about five minutes in that ugly world, though, with much of the story focused on a world of magic, color and freedom.  The characterizations are great.  Alex, our lead, is a very typical young boy (having just turned 13).  He is creative, curious, outgoing, moody, shy, angry, thoughtful, and everything in-between.  His companions include a kid he doesn’t get along with, and this creates a nice tension as the two boys try to redefine themselves in their new setting.  Creativity is also present in the blending of human and animal, household objects and war weapons.  Somehow, you just gotta love an Art teacher with eight arms (I won’t say more for fear of spoiling it).  One librarian mentioned her concern about this book being placed in the “kids” section.  Never fear.  It is as G-rated as it is delightful.  And yes, like many teen novels these days, it hints at a sequel, but fortunately wraps things up so nicely it could also be a stand-alone.  (UPDATE:  Yeah, it’s a series – book 2 is out, book 3 is coming).  The writing is consistent, solid and literary, but not overbearing.  Chapters move quickly and chapter headings are both clear and funny.  Artwork and fonts are extremely reminiscent of Harry Potter (intentional, I’m sure) and it is a tale that hits on a real chord for many – being a teen who doesn’t fit in.   In any case, it’s been a while since I was able to tear through a 390 page book so quickly, and it was a complete joy, like Spring on a dark winter day.

"Beautiful Creatures" by Kami Garcia & Margaret Stohl

After reading two very dark depressing books I had to escape a bit.  When I heard a newscaster state that the “Beautiful Creatures” movie was “like Twilight, but good,” I knew I had to read it.  This supernatural romance is, indeed, far better than Twilight in terms of literary merit.  Right from the beginning, I was engaged – it has a male protagonist (very unusual for this type of book), quick pacing, and actual descriptions and sentence structures that lend flow and understanding to the storyline!  As time went on, however, I found myself having a kind of love/hate relationship to the novel.  There is a lot to love:  a complex tale with unexpected turns, a lead character who you want to see succeed, subtle humor and excellent research which gives authenticity to everything from the Civil War themes to the Latin/Welsh translations.  There is herb-lore, a Harry-Potteresque style library and realistic portrayals of what people face when losing a loved one.  All of which make this a deep-level book far more enjoyable (to me, anyway) than some of the other popular titles out there.   That’s the good news.  On the down side, the book is written by two people.  Unlike other books written by a duo (“Will Grayson, Will Grayson” or “Sorcery and Cecelia”) this is a single narrative voice, which means there is some inconsistency in pacing and some “circular” writing – which is why the novel stretches to 563 pages when it really doesn’t have to (it is also one of three books in a series … the next two books are equally as weighty).  Descriptions go from rich to wordy, even Dickensian now and then.  Time is important here, and in one instance a five minute period stretches over 30 plus pages.  There is also the tired and somewhat bigoted supposition that those with Southern accents are ignorant and stupid.  And yes, as readers of my blog know, I’m not a huge fan of romance. I don’t mind the lovey-dovey stuff when incorporated into a larger tale, as this is most of the time, but I have little tolerance for the angsty “I love you but disaster awaits and I can never be with you” stuff.  About a third of the way in, Lena’s character got so whiny I wanted to kill her myself.  She’s not a wimp who needs to be saved all the time, but clearly, there are “issues.”  The book starts well and ends well, however, so some mushiness in the middle isn’t horrible.  I’m told the film is “very different” and have qualms about the fact that the crew was specifically told to “avoid reading the book.”  This is never a good sign.  One reviewer mentioned that the outstanding cast makes it a good movie, but it bears so little resemblance to the novel that it is likely to be unsatisfying to those who have read it.  Fortunately, or not, the masses are increasingly seeing films based on books they have never heard of, so perhaps it isn’t an issue.  If I ever get around to seeing the movie, I’ll write up my take.  In the meantime, it’s back to dark, depressing, “downer” books for me.  For those seeking a new series with romance, magic and a sort-of, kind-of vampire, dig in.

“The One and Only Ivan” by Katherine Applegate

This year’s Newbery was one I predicted, for a change, as chatter had it on the short list as early as last summer.  It gained a bit of notoriety, however, as many felt “Wonder” by Palacio deserved a nod and was overlooked.  I haven’t read “Wonder” but did like this book, which was delightful, sweet and endearing with strong overtones of “Charlotte’s Web.”  The sad tale of a gorilla living in a small cage in a run-down roadside tourist spot; it is the kind of story that makes all of us animal lovers reach for the Kleenex (and yes, there is the pre-requisite loss of life, because there always is in these kinds of stories).  A faster read than the 305 pages would indicate, I got through it in an afternoon.  Told in sparse phrasing and short chapters, it borders on poetry without all the flowery stuff and actually makes for a fabulous read-aloud.  Applegate gets props for creating characters, animal and human, who are layered and three-dimensional.  Based on real events (how I want to go visit Ivan now!!) it could become one of those Lassie/Old Yeller/Black Beauty books that is kept and read over and over again through the years.  The twist here is that Ivan needs to rescue someone, but it isn’t necessarily the someone you would think it is.  Highly accessible (not so for many Newbery picks) this is one of those “warm your heart” stories – or, as Applegate states, in the voice of Ivan, “I like colorful tales with black beginnings and stormy middles and cloudless blue-sky endings.”  Me too!  A great little book that should make for a family favorite.  Enjoy.

“In Darkness” by Nick Lake

The Printz winner for this year, “In Darkness” is a brilliant, disturbing and very dark tale (yes, pun intended).  It is, in fact, one of the darkest books I have ever read.  Unlike “My Friend Dahmer,” which hinted at horror, this book spells it out – all of it – in painful detail.  “Shorty” is a child of the Haitian ghetto who is deep into gang life.  At 14, he has killed many and has recently been shot.  Recovering from his injuries he finds himself in the rubble of a collapsed hospital during the earthquake of 2010.  Lost in the blackness, surrounded by crushed bodies and death, he recounts his brief life even as he struggles for sanity and survival, drinking in bodily fluids to sate his growing dehydration.  In the midst of this he travels back in time and bonds with Toussaint, a former slave facing his own nightmares as he tries to end slavery and unite a nation.  Nick Lake, a British national, clearly did his homework and the novel abounds with specifics on actual events but the telling is neither prosaic nor pedantic.  He does an outstanding job of getting into the heads of these two characters and making them real.  Lake also didn’t let history dictate the story, tweaking Toussaint’s life just enough to make the novel work.  At no point does this feel like a textbook accounting but rather the very real struggles of individuals against impossible circumstances.  These are characters you feel for and I felt ripped apart inside as these two men fought to move through their ugly, sad worlds.  It is a brutal beauty here.  Mr. Lake is a subtle writer and uses the two storylines in a parallel fashion to softly emphasize major points.  Chapter to chapter, each tale reflects something discovered by the “other half” of this duo.  Even the dialog is subtle, set off by dashes instead of quotes, blending back and forth between what is said and what is thought.  Lake has a lyric touch, even when using the foulest of language, as he describes scenes that many of us can hardly bring ourselves to imagine.  There are dead infants throughout, and shocking incidences (true) of UN forces treating the poorest of Haiti not unlike the Nazis did to the Jews.  First, they walled them off in a miserable section of Port-au-Prince, starving the people there from food (the residents sometimes resort to eating pies of baked mud),  job opportunities and medical services.  Then they went in with guns … ostensibly to kill the inevitable drug-lords that surfaced … and killed civilians in violent, late-night attacks that were indiscriminate in their targets.  That this did not make the news here in America is appalling.  That it was tolerated by the government of France, who was a major force in these actions, is even more so.  While very difficult to read, kudos should be given to this author for this powerful novel and for raising awareness of a people too often forgotten.  Shocking and painful, this isn’t so much a book you might want to read, but it is one you should.

“Level Up” by Gene Luen Yang, Art by Thien Pham

“Level Up” is a significantly different graphic novel than Gene Yang’s “American Born Chinese.”  That book, using three interwoven metaphorical tales to address immigrant experiences, is drawn in bold colors with sharp lines.  This work still has symbolism and mythos but is more serious and subtler overall.  Drawn with soft lines and highlighted in watercolors that wash over and beyond the images, this is a pseudo-autobiographical story of a boy named Dennis.  Attracted to computer gaming (which nearly sinks his college career), Dennis struggles to meet the high ideals of his parents.  Dennis is haunted, literally, by spirits who follow his every action in day-to-day living.  Fighting the stereotypical Asian ideal of becoming a doctor he seeks a meaningful and purposeful life, eventually coming to a surprising conclusion after many “re-boots.”  The book is very thoughtfully laid out.  Childhood sections are a wash of blue, remembrances are sepia-toned.  Each “level up” (mimicking any number of computer games) represents a new world and maturation point for Dennis to try and conquer.  Even when Dennis finally gets what he wants he is not happy, as evidenced in a striking two-page spread that makes the point beautifully (side-note – check out the shape of the tears when Dennis gets to his breaking point).  I stated that this is pseudo-autobiographical in that I can see a lot of parallels from Gene Yang’s life, but his opening dedication “… to our brothers Jon and Thinh, both of whom work in the medical field, for being the good Asian sons” is downright poignant when you read the book.  Makes you think.  It was a good, one-sitting, read, although not nearly as fun as “American Born Chinese.”  And the angels are creepy.  But it is a well-done novel, and worth dipping into.

“My Friend Dahmer” by Derf Backderf

What a strange thing to go from a medieval fantasy to this dark and disturbing tale.  First and foremost, this is an excellent book.  That being said, it is not an easy graphic novel to read.  Longer and more in-depth than many graphic novels, the author explains that this is a second attempt to capture his unusual connection to Jeffrey Dahmer and that this time, he did extensive research before diving in.  The efforts show and make this an obvious choice for the many awards now being placed on it, including the “Alex” Award from ALA.  Many things about the novel struck me, in no particular order:

• The title is a tad misleading, but “My Acquaintance Dahmer” would not have had the same ring to it.  Using the term friend implies that this is someone one cares about.  There is no indication that Backderf (real name John) was a friend to Dahmer, or that Dahmer was really able to make the connection you would call friendship.  Rather, Dahmer was an oddball who was taken in by a group of teen boys kind of like a pet.  The boys alternately tolerated and were amused by Dahmer’s antics but they didn’t invite him to parties or social activities, just sort of used Jeffrey as a running gag.  Nonetheless, Dahmer said this period in his life was the closest he ever got to being happy.
• Backderf is torn, emotionally, about this relationship.  In an extended intro and in the detailed notes afterwards (worth the read) he tries to articulate this complexity of feelings.  He doesn’t succeed, in my humble opinion, but then how can you?  There is pity, anger, grief, horror, unspoken-yet-clear guilt … but then this is an attempt to understand that which most of us will never be able to fully comprehend.  John feels badly for Jeffrey, who was obviously struggling, anger at the many adults who clearly turned a blind eye, and tries to draw a hard line as to when the sympathy and blame to others ends.  The reality is that Jeffrey Dahmer, at 15, was most likely already battling inherited mental health issues, including depression, alcoholism and sociopathic tendencies.  Trying to determine, at this point, what could have made a difference is an exercise with no happy solutions.  Hindsight, as they say, is 20/20, but we don’t live our life in re-wind.  Backderf does not pull his punches when showing the callousness of his youth, and that of his comrades-in-arms, and I felt like I went with him on this journey; experiencing the tale more on a visceral than intellectual level.  While very linear, this isn’t so much a story as a kind of purging of conflicting feelings.  It reads like a tremendously sad elegy.
• Backderf and his friends ridiculed many, and he apologizes to one man who had cerebral palsy in the notes section of the book.  He doesn’t apologize, however, to a character he repeatedly refers to as a “loser” and the “class psycho,” even going as far as initially thinking that it is this person, not Dahmer, who committed the horrific crimes once they are discovered.  For an adult looking back, it is interesting to feel that he still bears a good bit of animosity to the “Figg” character.  I don’t know what to make of that.  Backderf and friends were not at the top of the high school social ladder, however, and perhaps he is exhibiting that basic human need to find someone below himself to raise himself up.
• Since I know the history of this true story, and most of my students do not, I wonder how much creepiness I brought to the reading.  It was literally hard to turn the page at points.  I wonder how my students would react to the book knowing little or nothing about Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes.
• Reading this book so shortly after yet another shocking mass shooting is strange.  How do Jeffrey Dahmer’s crimes, which were beyond awful yet private, stack up to the killings we see today, which are so incredibly public?  Both kinds of acts shake me to the core, but does one outweigh the other?  (I don’t suspect this is a question I can answer).

Getting back to the review – Backderf’s choices in “framing” the story graphically are top-notch.  In black and white pen drawings, he took time to have wordless panels.  Pages with Jeffrey Dahmer walking down a road, focusing on his own feet, or staring out a bus window set a strong tone.  Even the arch of a hill or the busy-ness (or lack there-of) of the background helps set the stage.  As Jeffrey’s descent into oblivion is chronicled, the backgrounds of the panels become pitch black.  Backderf manages to create a kind of glassy, disconnected stare so reminiscent of men who commit these crimes, but also limits the number of times we see Dahmer’s eyes … the artist increasingly places glare on Dahmer’s glasses to block out the eyes entirely.  This is eerily reminiscent of a photo included in the book – one of a joke yearbook shot where Jeffrey Dahmer stands in the back, head slightly tilted, a white bulb flash on the lens of his glasses.  Backderf saves the worst of  Dahmer’s crimes from the reader, using intimation to touch on the nastier parts.  There is little blood, just a sense of omniscient threat as the images zoom in, a single drop of “something” coming out of a car trunk, and then a quick fade-out.  The artwork (which Backderf says is the best he has ever done) creates blocky, pudgy profiles that work well for re-creating 1970s era teens, but falls a tad short on female characters, who all seem a bit masculine.  It is a minor complaint in an otherwise excellently executed tale.  I particularly liked the use of bold text in word bubbles to articulate subtleties, like sarcasm, and the tremendous accuracy Backderf took in recreating the 1970s and a highway sign for Washington, DC.  I always get cranky when they get details about “my city” wrong.

On my own, I would not seek out a book on a serial killer but I did feel compelled to read this before putting it on the shelf.  For me, it was best to take “breaks” while reading it.  In the end, I appreciate its brilliance, but am very glad to move on.  Let this review be your warning label. 

“Seraphina” by Rachel Hartman

Much like the Philip Pullman “His Dark Materials” series, this book grew on me – but the winner of this year’s Morris Award is not an easy novel to slide into, or one where you are likely to careen from one chapter to the next.  Easily one of the most complex, dense stories I have read in a good deal of time, I found it was important to slow down and allow myself to be enriched by this world.  Take 14^th Century Verona Italy, heavy-duty religious overtones, the racism of America’s 1950s, a dash of Zen Buddhism and a twist on dragonlore I’ve never seen before and you have the ~beginnings~ of this tale.  Throw in a *lot* of SAT words (perspicacity, calefactive, ventrum) and you have a medieval story that could almost be historically accurate … if not for the dragons.  Seraphina is a girl of questionable background.  Born into a world where the church is as much of a presence as the ruling nobility (who have intrigues of their own), Seraphina is a girl of musical gifts and tremendous secrets.  The pacing is not quick.  For several weeks, I covered a few chapters at a time, each day, until the middle of the book, when suddenly I began to crave “what happens next.”  The ending is rich and satisfactory (and could be the build-up to a sequel, although the novel stands on its own just fine).  There is a love interest, but like all elements of this story, it is subtle and tricky (have you ever heard lovers declaring their feelings using the term “prevaricated”?)  Like the Pullman books, Ms. Hartman has succeeded in creating a world with many levels and many surprises.  Just when you think you’ve got it all figured out (a bad habit of readers like me) there is an element you didn’t see coming.  This is a “book” book – literary and engaging, something you could re-read several times and see new sides of.  It is a story that lingers – days later I’m still thinking about it.  I can understand the Morris Award, given to a “fresh voice” in YA publishing.  Unlike many first-time authors, Ms. Hartman most certainly has the chops.  It will be interesting to see what comes next for her.  In the meantime, take some time to enjoy.

"Beneath a Meth Moon" by Jacqueline Woodson

An excellent addition to books like "Go Ask Alice" and "Smack," "Beneath a Meth Moon" is Jacqueline Woodson's ode to young people fighting addiction.  The main character, Laurel, is a scant 15 years old but has suffered tremendous loss in her young life.  Seemingly naive, or perhaps undereducated, her descent into Meth addiction is swift and devastating.  Told in a lyric style that borders on the poetic, Laurel attempts to write an elegy to honor and then let go of her past.  The story flows like water, with water and waves being major themes in this tale.  Snapshots emerge with each of the short chapters, told in a nonlinear style, and fill in a picture of a normal life that is upended by Mother Nature.  Although it is never confirmed that this is a tale of Hurricane Katrina it could be.  The novel shows ripples created by such a storm (there's that water metaphor again) and how they can echo across people's lives for years to come.  There are also numerous echoes of faith.  While not heavy-handed, Laurel comes from one of those rural sections of our nation where life is slower and God is found in all things.  Laurel's grandmother echoes this in her musings.  Laurel's sing-song speaking style, written with exquisite specificity by Ms. Woodson, adds to the rhythm of the telling.  Even spoken words are italicized here, rather than put in quotes, perhaps to make sure this is smooth reading or to add an ethereal quality to the whole thing.  In any case, it is yet another brilliant book by the hugely talented Jacqueline Woodson and reaffirms her status as a lifetime achievement writer, an honor bestowed on her by the American Library Association.  Ms. Woodson may be one of the youngest recipients of this prize but her extensive body of work shows that it is talent, not years, that makes a writer truly worthy.

"Sita's Ramayana" by Samhita Arni and Moyna Chitrakar

"Sita's Ramayana" is a graphic novel retelling of one of the more famous folktales of India, focusing on the tragic love story between Sita and Rama.  Full of twists, turns, monsters and magic, it makes the works of Homer seem downright simplistic.  For those unfamiliar with Indian myth, be prepared for anamistic plants and animals, more battles than you can throw a stick at, and very large, complicated familial connections (it's kind of like a bunch of Irish Catholics at Easter ...)  In any case, the authors provide a set of genealogies at the beginning and some information on Indian story-telling traditions at the end of the book.

The tale is told as succinctly as possible (which pretty much means:  love, death, escape, capture, hope, hopelessness, battle, battle, battle, etc, betrayal, estrangement, and more death).  Images (which came first, according to the notes) are painted in primitive style, with bold colors, disproportionate figures and expressions which don't change much, but are rotated in such a way as to make them more vertical or prone depending on their circumstances.  The text almost seems to be an intrusion into this, as the images flow like Indian music -- on a single, unending path (see the term "Raaga" for an explanation) but the words are fairly staccato.

It's not that I disliked this book, but it takes effort on the part of the reader to engage.  This book is truly "Indian" -- with Indian creators and publishers.  It is one of many new books I have purchased to appeal to the burgeoning Indian population here in the states, but in many ways it feels foreign to those of us unaccustomed to this kind of literature.  In other words, if you know nothing about Indian culture, don't start here.  If, however, you know your Bhangra from your Bollywood, you might enjoy dipping your toe into this full-fledged homage to the female perspective on the Sita/Rama legend.

"Ranger's Apprentice, Book One: The Ruins of Gorlan" by John Flanagan

I finally had the time to dip into this very popular series and it was a satisfying entry.  "Ranger's Apprentice" is pretty standard fantasy fare without heavy-duty magic.  Think more along the lines of Lloyd Alexander and less Madeleine L'Engle.  There is the young boy without a sense of where his life is going; an older, if not mysterious, mentor; a growing sense of purpose and a good number of fights along the way to the big uber-battle.  The attraction of boys to this series is easy to see.  With lots of action, a few valuable life-lessons, and only the slightest hint of "girls" this is one has enough blood, yet enough intelligence, to appeal to a broad range of male readers.  John Flanagan is one of the growing number of Australian authors gracing bookshelves these days.  For the most part, he writes well.  The story has the nuts and bolts found in all fantasy novels but is original in the details.  The characters are fully drawn and the lead character, "Will" is both appealing and accessible.  Mr. Flanagan keeps the action moving but puts in enough specifics to get a substantial feel for the world that he creates.  Perhaps my favorite element in his writing is the relative depth to both characters and plot-lines.  Nothing is simple or clean.  Things progress as they should (and, at a couple points, exactly as I expected them to) but there are edges to each event and the reader can easily see any element of the tale fleshed out to include stories upon stories (which is why, I'm guessing, that this series is now up to 12 books??)  The only two hiccups for me were relatively minor.  First, there was no map!  Which was mostly just curious, since all fantasy novels of this type seem to include them.  Keep in mind that there is always an external journey in these things, which is typically reflective of the main character's bildungsroman (don't you love fancy words?)  Anyway, it wasn't a big deal, just a bit surprising, as I had to imagine all the "travels" into mountains and far-off lands.  Since books are about using one's imagination it shouldn't be a reach to picture it all in your head.  More off-putting was the author's habit of changing point of view from paragraph to paragraph (sometimes sentence to sentence) which slowed me down a bit in reading speed, as I had to double-back more than once to keep track of who was thinking what.  The overall story, however, was short and engaging enough for me to get through in under a week, so the narrative voice(s) were not a major issue.  In a word, this was a very "solid" first book.  Glad to have it in the collection and feel more comfortable than ever recommending it to a wide base of readers.

"Swords" by Ben Boos

The full title of this book is "Swords -- an Artist's Devotion."  Mr. Boos makes a point (actually, twice ... at the beginning *and* the end of the book) that he is not an expert on the topic, just an artist and a devotee.  You should take him at his word.  The images are stunning and rich, reproduced in deep colors on silky, thick paper.  The work is so good that one could mistake some images for photographs.  For any fan of swords (as I am), the close-up details are interesting and greatly appreciated.  For all of the "pretty" nature of this book, however, the text is deeply lacking.  Despite his protestations that he is "not an expert" Mr. Boos clearly did his research (there is a good bibliography in the back) yet writes in a haphazard, weak style.  The annotations range from information-specific (Scottish swords have a "braid" inside them that creates a ripple effect down the center of the sword) to hopelessly vague (there are 10 kinds of Viking hilts ... drawn but not described or named) to randomly subjective (in a discussion on female warriors he states "These brave and noble women are written into the sagas and histories, and they prove beyond doubt that the sword in the hand of a war maiden is as fearsome as the sword in the hand of any man.")  He also includes information I would consider incorrect ... that medieval peasants had access to a plethora of large knives ... not likely for serfs -- or that wild boars would willingly impale themselves because of "bloodlust."  More likely, this large wild animal running fast towards a target couldn't turn around in time (they aren't particularly known for their mobility.  Think "bull" with shorter legs.)  In any case, it's a nice "coffee table" book -- gorgeous to skim through.  I wouldn't recommend it for research, however -- as the author emphasizes, time and time again.

"Set to Sea" by Drew Weing

The back of this graphic novel describes it as a “ballad told in visual rhyme.”  While correct, it could also be described as haiku – with short, specifically chosen images and spare words conveying tremendous meaning.  The tale itself is symbolism and metaphor.  A would-be poet struggles to write flowery verse about life on the sea – from a tavern.  Failing, miserable and drunk, he is shanghaied into service with a rough and ready crew.  As the years pass, he experiences the life he struggled to write about, seeing a wealth of realities he never imagined.  This gives birth to a satisfying and appropriate conclusion – one might even call it ironic.  Drawings that remind you of the “Popeye” cartoons are nonetheless detailed and specific, hiding gentle humor throughout (for instance, the tavern where the story begins is “The Angry Kitten”).  The artistic style, combined with the black and white line drawings, make it easy for the reader to harken back to the time period, very roughly set in the period of tall sailing ships.  A brief read, I was able to get through the book in less than 10 minutes.  Like Shaun Tan’s book, “The Arrival,” however, it is one of those stories you should slow down for.  This is poetry, and it is important not to rush through it but to take each image and word for their full meaning.  A neat little book, it is easy to see why it has “buzz” going into awards season.