"Miss Peregrine's Home For Peculiar Children" by Ransom Riggs

This is an odd little book.  For years, I had it in a library for 6th to 12th graders, and just assumed from the cover and the little print that it was for High School.  It also showed up on the NY Times Bestseller list.  Not for kids.  But then, my Middle School students were checking it out ... a lot!  So, when I couldn't sleep one night recently, I finally started to read it.  On one hand, it's not nearly as creepy as I thought, on the other hand, it does have an element of freaky and a dash of horror, although I found the horror elements to be light (and I'm a total baby, so if I wasn't too scared, it can't be that bad).  It's kind of like "Harry Potter meets a teen version of a horror story".  Don't want to give too much of the plot away, but it is an interesting spin.  Ransom Riggs is a filmmaker, not necessarily a writer for youth.  He is fascinated with the visual image, and collected/found a large number of older photographs, many from the turn of the last century -- a time when photography was new and mysticism was extremely popular.  Mix a strong belief in the supernatural with the curiousity of budding photographers and you get a lot of pictures which are clearly manipulated, and only slightly odd.  Riggs took these photos and wove them into a narrative, doing some pretty impressive world-building along the way.  Yes, there are criticisms.  The lead character reads young.  Some of the editing is sloppy (at one point there are kids hiding under some stairs yet climbing that the same time) and an argument can be made that the narrative is stretched to wrap around the photos -- some of the photos he tries to pull together for a lead character don't actually look like the same person.  Overall, however, I was willing to forgive these minor transgressions for a tale which is whimsical, and, while drawing on some classic archetypes, is creative and fresh.  I couldn't predict where it was going to go, and I always like that.  Bottom line is that it was enjoyable, page-turning, and not what I expected.  Which is always a good thing.  (PS Coming to a Theatre Near You -- and likely to be much scarier in a darkened room)

"Crenshaw" by Katherine Applegate

In most cases, this would echo those awful 1970s "problem novels" written for YOUNG PEOPLE and would be preachy and didactic.  Katherine Applegate avoids that by dealing with homelessness in a soft, gentle way, as voiced by our engaging protagonist, Jackson.  Ms. Applegate doesn't overstate things, or hammer them in, she simply lets the voice of Jackson speak, and his voice feels real and warm.  The choice to include a touch of magical realism here is also delightful.  It may be symbolism or metaphor, but whatever Crenshaw actually is, or isn't, doesn't really matter.  The point, which is subtle, is that we all struggle, and with that struggle comes some universality, namely that we all need help from time to time.  Did I wish, every now and then, that the prose was just a touch less sparse?  Well, yes, but this book, as it is, will be very accessible to anyone who might want to approach the subject of homelessness in a way that even younger children will understand well.  It's sweet without being saccarin, charming without being overt.  It's a fast read you can get through in one or two sittings and it is the kind of story kids may want to read more than once.  Brava.

"Keep Curious and Carry a Banana -- Wisdom From the World of Curious George" by Justin Martin and Liza Charlesworth

This little book joins a host of others in the market of "smile and move on."  Much like "The Blue Day Book" and the like, it uses illustrations to emphasize pithy aphorisms, the twist here being that they use images from the actual Curious George books to make their points.  Sometimes it works, sometimes it seems forced.  It did pull at my heartstrings, just a bit, given that Curious George harkens back to a special, gentle time in my life, a very long time ago.  For kids, an actual Curious George book might be better.  For adults, it's part of a novelty trend.  Not the best, not the worst of this kind.  Think "nifty gift" for someone having a significant birthday above the age of 45.

"Booked" by Kwame Alexander

The comparisons are inevitable.  When one writes a book as lauded as "Crossover" was, the follow-up will be compared, whether the author intended it to be, or not.  "Booked" is, and isn't, the same as "Crossover."  Both are verse novels with similar graphical layout provided by the publisher.  Both have Middle School boys who love sports and like girls.  Both have rivalry between the boys and their brother or friend, and both have boys who seem somewhat more mature than their Middle School ages.  After that, however, there are differences.  "Crossover" is about twin brothers who excel at Basketball, "Booked" is about a boy obsessed with Soccer.  Both are family tales, but very different families.  In "Crossover" it's an essentially strong family which is ripped apart, while in "Booked" it's a family with a lot of fault lines which are only temporarily repaired.  I saw the ending of "Crossover" coming, I was surprised by "Booked."  The nice rhythms and subtle humor are still there, but there are fewer concrete poems in "Booked."  That being said, "Booked" has some interesting and unique takes on how to create new literature from old -- blacking out words and phrases to create secret messages.  The whole book is very much a play on words, something that can bring readers back time and again and motivate them to create something themselves.  "Booked" didn't have the emotional impact of "Crossover" but then that first book by Mr. Alexander felt visceral and personal -- this one is mostly fun with a good dose of the reality of human complexities thrown in.  It's an engaging read, and should satisfy those who loved "Crossover."

"The Thing About Jellyfish" by Ali Benjamin

When I was in the 5th grade, the most popular girl in school died in a car accident.  While it was not my first experience with death, it was the first time I had experienced that sudden, unexpected, out of the natural order kind of loss.  It changed my life.  A phrase I've heard a good bit lately is "she gets it".  What people mean when they say this is that someone understands a thing on a deep, complex level.  They understand it fully.  They "Grok" it, for all you SciFi fans out there.  In the case of this book, Ali Benjamin "gets it."  She understands grief, and Middle School, and the autism spectrum disorder.  The main character, Suzy, is so dimensional and fully drawn that she seems to leap off the page.  The story is sad, but not too sad, and the writing is exquisite and gentle.  We careen between Suzy's mind, seeing a vibrant "inner life" and flashbacks in 2nd person.  The use of this rarely-used style makes the tale more personal, and even more powerful.  The progression is meaningful, the story lovely, and overall it is very easy to see how this enchanting, engaging novel made it to the finalist round for the National Book Award.  Brava to Ms. Benjamin on a first novel that "touched my heart."

"Echo" by Pam Munoz Ryan

A boy in 19th century Bavaria stumbles upon a fairy tale while lost in the forest.  In 1933, a young German boy's father struggles to hide his anti-Hitler sentiments as his unique son fights the rising tide of hatred.  In 1935, a pair of orphaned brothers work to stay together as they seek a home beyond a brutal orphanage in Pennsylvania.  In 1942, an American-born Mexican girl deals with a sudden move from Fresno to Southern California, her older brother leaving their family to serve in the war, and the racism surrounding her.  These stories are woven together like the music which prefaces each section.

This startlingly beautiful, powerful book represents the growing talents of Ms. Ryan, whose lyricism and brilliance really began to shine through with The Dreamer.  Clever, complex, and with unexpected plot turns, the story pulls on threads of very different types to create something that is new in many ways.  Critics who have called the resolution "pat" or unrealistic miss the point -- that there is a connection between people similar to the way disparate notes in a song can talk to each other.  In my humble opinion, this was a worthy novel of the Newbery Honor it received.  While long and not particularly fast-paced, it was a page-turner because the story-telling is rich, the characters compelling and well-drawn, and the "beats" of the story echo humanity.  Hence the title?  A delightful read.  Enjoy.

"Between the Devil and the Deep Blue Sea" by April Genevieve Tucholke

This was one of those out-of-the-blue picks, where I knew absolutely nothing about the book, which can be fun.  To be honest, I began reading it with kind of a "huh?" sense -- was this Gothic Romance, Horror, or something else?  Turns out it's Gothic Horror, kind of, and another one of those "on one hand, on the other hand" books.  On one hand, it's decently written.  Take this phrase, "Dawn was taking off its clothes, kicking up its pinks and purples on the horizon."  Most of the book isn't that lyric, but there is a flow to the text.  There is enough detail to "see" things and a nice tension/sense of creepiness throughout.  On the other hand, the description gets wieldy after a while -- every meal and every bit of clothing is described in great detail.  The allusions to "Wuthering Heights" and other literary influences isn't subtle, either.  They get referred to ... a lot.  In my mind, these references and the detail drags down the narrative.  I kept asking myself, "Do I need to know this in order for the story to be told?"  The answer, in most cases, is "no."  My biggest issue was with the arch of the book.  It builds well with a very good sense of anticipation, and the denoument also has nice rhythms and a poetry of a kind.  It was the actual peak of the action I didn't like.  The book goes from being somewhat PG (Violet gets naked with a boy but nothing really happens and the worst four letter word is "Da**") to being seriously R in the turn of a page.  There is blood, and more blood, and lots more blood, and an implied rape or two and then everything kind of goes back onto an even keel.  For me, the tone of the peak action didn't match the tone of the rest of the book.  Like a bad mystery, a critical element was left out, barely hinted at along the way, and then introduced at the important moment for no other reason than to spur a sequel.  There is also bad-boy lust, but when the bad boy is a serial killer, I started disliking our heroine. Ironically, a new TV show, "Lucifer" has similar characters, but, IMHO, they do it better.  Finally, on a minor point, another issue I had were the missing parents.  I know it's very YA to have MIA parents, but in this case, given some of the things that happen, you really have to push that "willing sense of disbelief" to its farthest edge.  In any case, this started out as a good book for those who like to be chilled without the gore, but then there is gore, so I really don't know what to say about it.  Happy reading ?!?!

"To Sell is Human" by Daniel Pink

Once upon a time, I got a degree in Theatre Performance.  Many of the parents of students in my graduating class had disowned their kids for pursuing something so frivolous.  Not my mom.  She knew that the skills I learned in acting classes would support me no matter what career path I took.  The ability to read a room, adjust on the fly and present well to a group were "critical life skills" as far as she was concerned.  She could not have been more correct.  Daniel Pink picks up on this theme in his book, To Sell is Human, with the premise that we are all salesmen, in that we all have to "convince, cajole, persuade" and otherwise "move" people from one place to another regardless of the work we do.  He outlines the new "ABCs" of marketing in pithy prose, using engaging, personal stories throughout to emphasize his points.  In 230 quickly read pages he lays out not only his premise, but a series of activities and surveys designed for readers to understand themselves better and apply these techniques to their workplace routines.

Like all authors of these pop-psych, pop-sociology, pop-economics style books, Mr. Pink is good at what he does.  The book is accessible, even fun.  I giggled here and there and had a few "a-ha" moments, which is what he was going for, I'm sure.  At a discussion of this book recently, there were people who didn't agree with the premise and weren't convinced by his arguments, but everyone was able to "get" what he was saying, whether they came on board or not.  The Forbes review on the cover says "Vastly entertaining and informative".  I couldn't agree more. Whether you are looking for ideas or amusement (or both), this book is a worthwhile read.

"Becoming Mary Mehan" by Jennifer Armstrong

Originally marketed as two novellas, "The Dreams of Mairhe Mehan" and "Mary Mehan Awake", these stories have now been combined into a short book.  As a librarian, I tried to market the two original publications, and failed.  Having finally read them (yes, librarians push books they haven't read -- it's kind of inevitable when you have 15,000 books), I can see why they didn't appeal.  Which is not to say they are bad -- they aren't.  But they are significantly more adult-like than expected, given the length.  They are also quite different from each other in tone and style. 

The first half is about Mairhe Mehan, an uneducated Irish immigrant girl living in the slums of Washington, D.C. just before the start of the Civil War.  The text is rich and full of imagery, one might even say "James Joyce light", as Mairhe appears to have near psychic visions of the lives around her, particularly her brother.  The tale isn't so much linear as it is flowing.  Much like the lace Mairhe toils over, the narrative is full of weaves and weft and poetry.  In many ways, it is something to "experience" more than something to follow.  Ms. Armstrong's impressive research also comes into place.  She paints a detailed picture of place and time, right down to street names and ghetto smells.  The characters are fully drawn and the dialect perfection (although challenging to read at times).  In this book, Mairhe comes off as an ethereal creature, one that the author herself describes as an "unreliable narrator."  The appearance of Walt Whitman in the tale is surprising, but well done, and his presence creates a king of anchor for Mairhe, as well as a lyricism to the Irish tongue heard throughout (poets appreciate poets).

The second half is about Mary after the war.  I found it interesting that the most intense part of the story is avoided by the author.  We see the girl before, and the shattered young woman after, but the events in between are only seen as nightmarish flashbacks Mary tries to overcome.  Her new position is working in a household off of Lake Ontario for a good-natured naturalist and his wife,.  This part of the tale is much more linear, with everything spelled out, rather than alluded to.  The symbolism, however, is immensely powerful, as Mary, made into a ghost by her trauma, must find her way to the surface of life again. Plot descriptions say this part of the story is about love transforming her, but those who dislike romance need not fear.  This isn't a syrupy, drippy, "OMG I love you" tome.  It is far more subtle than that.  In my humble opinion, this isn't a tale about love making the difference, but about love being there when Mary is finally ready to live again.  In any case, this story, too, has a beauty, but it is more about clarity than the haunting, dark atmosphere of the first tale.

A short read, I deeply enjoyed it.  I hope you will, too.

"Drowned City: Hurricane Katrina & New Orleans" by Don Brown

One of this year's award winners, "Drowned City:  Hurricane Katrina and New Orleans" by Don Brown, is a triumph.  It is a great example of how graphic novels can transmit complex concepts, well researched with high level vocabulary.  It is so well researched, in fact, that I learned a number of things I didn't know -- and I am one of the thousands of people who went down there to rebuild in the years after the disaster.  This isn't a textbook, however.  This is a story, where fact and emotion blend to create a powerful narrative.  It unfolds in a very linear way, with artwork showing the storm's formation in Africa, it's travel to the U.S. Coast, formation in the gulf, even the communities wiped out before New Orleans was impacted.  The art isn't just good, there is a tremendous emotional impact, with swirling blues and blacks spreading across double pages, evoking a sense of the open space being closed off, as the citizens of the city were, by the power of the hurricane.  Unlike AD:  New Orleans after the Deluge, the details of the days following are not glamorized nor played down.  This is the power of a really good graphic novel.  The words tell the story in clinical detail, while the images portray the pathos, desperation and agony of the human toll.  It is an excellent book, one that reminds us of a massive failure of our nation to respond to this tragedy, and one we should not forget.

"George" by Alex Gino

This short award winner details the story of George, a child who is, without a doubt, a girl.  The prose is simple and heartfelt, drawing in the reader to the challenge faced by so many.  A fourth grader, George hopes that she can get the role of Charlotte in the school play.  She believes that by appearing as a female in front of all, they can see her as she sees herself.  Throughout the first part of the book, there are aching moments, a sense of her personhood being denied, as no one around her seems to see what she knows at the core of her being.  Imagine being out in the world and treated as if no one really sees you as the person you are.  It would be like being invisible, or like living inside of a costume day in and day out.  Or both.  There were a good number of moments I simply cried at the pain she felt.  George is lucky, however, in that she has a great friend, Kelly, who is tremendously supportive of all of George's struggles, even when she is unable to articulate them.  I remembered, while reading the book, a student I knew who went through this.  First, for longer than I imagined, I struggled with the pronoun issue.  Not in what I called him, but in that moment before I referred to him, when my brain had to consciously make the change.  Then, one day recently, I saw him and there was no question.  The minute I laid eyes on him, my mind said "him."  A triumph for all.  That happens a good deal in this book, as George refers to herself with a female pronoun, while the world refers to her using male references.  It is just a small taste of the dissonance that George faces every minute during her existence.  There were a number of other things I really liked about this book -- it is real in the sense that the reactions are not what you would think and nothing is particularly clean.  The bullies aren't done away with, and George's family reacts in ways that may be unexpected, but are, in their complexity, fully human.  It's a great story, and one that nearly everyone who reads it will "get."  Brava, Alex Gino.  So glad that a person like George can come into the light.

"A Street Through Time: A 12,000-Year Walk Through History" by Steve Noon

This was a holiday gift from my mother, and, in that sense, it evokes so much that I loved as a child.  The historical element, of course, but more than that, detailed pictures and stories within stories.  Mr. Noon's artwork is "okay" but the subtle humor is terrific.  Much of the content in these complex images is explained, but some isn't.  I laughed out loud when I saw the shovel coming up through the floor of the modern day bank.  He ties one age into another through the basics -- housing, trade, eating and bathrooms.  Yes, there are images throughout showing how people of each age relieved themselves (more naughty than obscene).  It's a good tactic.  Kids always ask those sorts of questions.  The darker sides aren't glorified, but they aren't glossed over.  Heads of enemies are displayed in the far distance of one scene, rats swarm the village during plague times.  Noon also engages the reader by hiding things in the pictures -- including a time traveler that these old eyes couldn't catch, but young ones might.  This is a DK book, and like all DK titles, it is accessible, packed with facts and visually stimulating.  There is a glossary at the end as well as an index, although the best learning may come from curiosity raised within each image.  Layout is thought-through, and the progressions make sense.  My only real complaints are that the gutter sometimes obscures the image as the street becomes more crowded, and there are white lines "outlining" some of the characters and images as the tale unfolds, which seems unnecessarily artificial.  That being said, this book did "take me back" to one of my favorite activities as a child -- finding the hidden pictures in the Highlights magazines at the doctor's office.  This is one of the few books that is good to buy, rather than borrow.  Kids will be able to look, and look again, for a long time.

"Last Stop on Market Street" by Matt De La Pena, Illustrated by Christian Robinson

Well, the annual awards have to come with some controversy, and a big one this year was the Newbery committee awarding the top honor to a picture book, something they haven't done since A Visit to William Blake's Inn back in the 1980s.  Note that the book also picked up Caldecott and Coretta Scott King honors, so clearly, it is well-appreciated by many.  So, the question is, do picture books merit an award given purely for literary quality?  And if so, does this book meet that literary bar?  The answers are ... I'm not sure.  Much like a graphic novel, a good picture book must have a kind of symbiosis, a marriage, between the image and the word.  Neither should be able to stand alone and the two, together, should create more than the whole.  So, yes, the words and pictures are dependent on one another, but can't that be considered a kind of literature?  Don't we talk, all the time, about Media Literacy?  What is that, if not about understanding something at a deeper level through imagery?  Then, there are the words.  Does this have the best words ever?  No, not in my humble opinion.  But they are good.  There is a flow and rhythm to this tale, a lyricism, a poetic feel without the poetry.  The back and forth between the Grandma and the boy has a rhythm, too, and that rhythm is a big part of why the story "sticks."  There is imagery in the words, as well, imagery which is echoed and reinforced by the pictures, slightly evocative of Jacob Lawrence in their simplicity and social commentary.  All of this is to say that critics seem to be dismissing this book at face value, but one must look more deeply to see the subtleties that make it a rich tale which the award committees appreciated.  Look at the messages within the messages -- the personalities on the bus, the fact that even though this pair has less than others, they still give their time to help those who are worse off.  It is America's story.  This is a book written by a Hispanic man, illustrated by an African American man, which shows the diversity of life that is typical in the inner city.  How could the committees ignore such a tale?  If you aren't a fan, look again, and look deeper.  This one requires multiple reads to truly see all the layers in a book that is far more than just an easy read.

"The Mysterious Benedict Society" by Trenton Lee Stewart

Took me a long time to get to this uber-popular book, but I didn't want to take it out of the hands of the devoted readers, and it does take me a good long while to read something of this length.  I can see the appeal.  It is a very complex story, which works on many levels, and the writing is strong.  Compare it to any number of books, Westing Game, Greenglass House, Splendors and Glooms, and there are similarities, but it is completely unique as well.  Four unusual children are tapped to solve a mystery which has a bit of life peril involved.  While not exactly a page turner (although chapters are nicely short), the stakes do go up (and up and up) so, for me, it was about seeing if the children triumphed through their adversities.  The characters are also very engaging.  Every single character is drawn with depth and most of the main characters are the kind you would either identify with or want to be friends with.  Despite the fantastical circumstances, these people felt very real.  There is an "otherness" to this book which makes it feel like a different world.  I often associate this with books written in England or Australia, but this is purebred American.  The drawings at the beginning of each chapter reinforce the unreality with a style that is more caricature than real, but this only adds to a sense of light amusement which plays throughout.  The chapter headings are arch, and there is some serious satire of modern society -- government, news organizations and more -- embedded in the plotline.  Not sure that every reader will get all of the subtext, but it means a wide range of readers can appreciate the story regardless of age.  A real winner.  I can see why it became so hot, so fast.

"If I Stay" by Gayle Forman

WAAAHHH.  This was the closest I've come to putting a book down in a long time.  Not because it is bad, it's actually kind of brilliant, but I haven't been this emotionally wrecked since I read "Code Name Verity."  For once, it was fortunate that I only have time to read in short bursts.  While I felt compelled to drive through it, it was helpful to take emotional breaks.  Get a full kleenex box out as moments in this tale are gut-wrenching.  In short, Mia has a decision to make.  She is at death's door, has lost so much of a life that was pretty good, and she must make a decision -- to stay or go.  This much, I kind of knew before I read the book.  What I wasn't prepared for were the graphic details of the incident which lands her at this point, the really personal, engaging writing which hits you in the heart with gentle, simple prose and stories which have a universality.  They say that life flashes before your eyes in the moments before death.  In this case, Mia sees many of her life "moments" crystallized as non-judgemental lessons, wrestling with a kind of subtle spirituality throughout. Ms. Forman gets a lot of things right.  Nurses are the humanizing factor in the antiseptic settings of hospitals, love often happens when you aren't expecting it, and the most painful funerals are the ones where the reality of a person's life is denied by their family.  The biggest lesson of all, stated by Mia, is that living can be much harder than dying, but the pull of life is very strong.  It's a page turner which will have you guessing until the very last sentence.  A powerful, poignant story, and one I'm glad I stuck with.   

"Whistling Vivaldi: How Stereotypes Affect Us and What We Can Do" by Claude M. Steele

Even though I cannot make it to the book club this was selected for, I very much wanted to read it.  The premise of the book (and accompanying research) is that the stereotypes for our particle group (or groups) hold us back from achieving our full potential.  The idea is intriguing.  After reading the book, I can say I was impressed by the studies which were done, but as a book, my take is very mixed.  Much of this review is "on one hand, on the other hand". 

On one hand, the cover is very misleading.  This book focuses heavily on African Americans, women, and, somewhat, on white males.  There are passing references made about Asians, the mentally ill, and, in one instance, the different social classes in France.  Indians, teens, gays and Latinos, listed on the cover, are all but ignored.  In that sense, this book was very disappointing.  I have read heavily on the issues surrounding African Americans in this country, in terms of disadvantages and achievement gaps, but was really hoping to see something on Hispanics, which is a large and growing group who seem to be ignored in professional literature.  On the other hand, the conclusions Dr. Steele draws are powerful, and do lead the reader to believe that we may be looking at this whole thing wrong.  He doesn't dismiss the societal inequities blacks face, but he only raises that issue, and that of prejudice, in the final chapters.  If anything, he seems to act as an apologist for the avoidance behavior of whites around blacks, repeatedly showing how the expectation of saying or doing something which might confirm a racist attitude as the reason for whites being reticent in mixed groups.

The book itself is written by a researcher.  On one hand, it was infinitely more readable than "Diversity Explosion" which was almost nothing but numbers.  Dr. Steele humanizes his exploration by introducing each researcher in terms of how he met them, their background, even their physical descriptions.  I simultaneously found this to be odd and endearing.  In some cases, it seemed to break the flow of the narrative, but, again, when placed next to "Diversity Explosion" it did make the material more readable, which was important.  This is dense stuff.  It took me a long time to read through the book, as I had to review several sections over and over.  Most of the 11 chapters are broken up into subsections, with each subsection describing a different experiment.  This is where the book was challenging at times.  Dr. Steele doesn't just like the Scientific Method, he LOVES it, and, to some degree, each chapter kind of goes "down the rabbit hole" rather than rise to a climax.  On the other hand, he's not wrong.  He correctly asks question after question, drilling down after each run on a theory.  "If this worked in this setting, what would happen if ...", "and does that mean ..." are the kind of questions which clearly haunt him at night, and make his methodology pretty compelling, since he clearly is not a "one and done" guy.

Being picky -- because I am.  I fancy myself a minor wordsmith, and dislike the term "Stereotype Threat" which is used throughout the book.  While Dr. Steele clearly covers the decision making in using the term, I feel it belies the points he tries to make.  He states that people "feel a threat" which impedes their performance, but insists the threat is "out in the air" while simultaneously stating it is an "internal threat" linked to cultural identity.  The problem is that "threat" is a very loaded word, (much like "privilege") and people will connect to it on an emotional level, which means it can blot out the reasoning mind of the reader he is trying to reach.  Threat implies someone making a threat, so, for all of his research stating otherwise, the subtle message is that there is someone to blame out there making the threat.  I also disliked the overuse of "that" instead of "which", but this is an issue across the board these days, in everything I read.  Lastly, the side-path into telling the stories of Anatole Broyard and Amin Maalouf seemed off-point, in that they were not research based.  I think Dr. Steele was trying to provide more context to the research, but the chapter was awkwardly shoved into the middle of the book, making it more of a detour than a support.  The stated facts are also somewhat questionable -- Dr. Steele quotes a New Yorker article saying that "Broyard was black, that both of his parents were black, and that all of his ancestors were black as far back as the eighteenth century."  Everything I could find says that Anatole Broyard was Creole, with all of the mixed cultures one finds in that definition.  Which brings us to the one-drop rule -- which is far off base from the focus of the rest of the book. 

The bottom line is whether you accept his premise (for those who want to cut to the "...and What We Can Do" part, go to pages 181, 207 and the final chapter, although without context of the research, you lose the details needed to fully appreciate it).  On one hand, the research he does is unquestionably strong, so yes, he makes excellent points.  On the other hand, his assertion, near the end of the book, that our society is becoming less integrated in terms of diversity, is in direct conflict with research and statements in "Diversity Explosion" and "the Next America" so it makes me question how he shaped data around the result he expects to see.  It is a worthwhile read IMHO -- you read and decide.

"Emancipation Proclamation: Lincoln and the Dawn of Liberty" by Tonya Bolden

I recently heard Dr. Bolden speak.  It was an intelligent, reflective and challenging speech.  I liked it, a lot.  It made reading this nonfiction book more interesting, as I could see her perspective in it.  For the most part, the book is very good, although there are a few "odd" things.

As a nonfiction book, it is engaging.  The text doesn't "dumb down" anything but is very accessible.  I questioned Dr. Bolden's use of the term "John Hancocked" in the first chapter (to indicate signing a big, important document) but it fell in line with the reading age for the book, which would be higher than expected, given its look.  I would place it in the upper middle school, lower high school range.

The entire first chapter is told in present tense, using "we" ("we waited for word") which does engage the reader.  The choice, however, is odd, in the sense that this is no longer a factual telling, but an emotional one.  That being said, I have no doubt that the information conveyed is factual, as it is clearly ~~very~~ well researched.  The rest of the short book reverts to standard past tense, but then bumps back, very briefly, into that "present tense" a few times near the end.  Unfortunately, at that point, it became jarring. 

The images are fabulous, although I take minor issues with the layout -- I would have preferred the text to be more connected, as the images often break the flow of the narrative.  Publishers should take a hint from DK on how to add images in a way which enhances the words rather than distracts from them.

The point of this book makes for an interesting debate.  The title would lead you to believe it is yet another homage to Lincoln for signing a document which has been misconstrued by many.  The good news is that this is the first book I have read which looks at the complexity of both Lincoln and the decree he finally issued, and does so in a way which is very understandable.  It wasn't a straight path from Lincoln's election to emancipation, and much of the book is a clean, step-by-step review of the various players and how they influenced a President who was, himself, conflicted. 

In the end, Dr. Bolden asks whether Lincoln should be revered the way that he is.  A recent trip to the Lincoln Memorial left visiting relatives asking "Why him?  Why all of this?" as the DC Memorial is the largest and most prestigious (arguably) for any U.S. President.  The Memorial is listed as a "temple" on one of the inside quotes and elevates the man to the status of near god-hood.  The bottom line, as outlined by Bolden, is that this was a man who did not like the institution of slavery, but did not believe blacks were intellectual equals to whites, wanted to pay slave owners to "buy back" their slaves (and did so in the District of Columbia) and wanted to ship blacks off to another country, as he believed they would never get equal footing as a minority in a white dominated culture. 

And yet. 

Dr. Bolden makes the case, in the final pages, that Lincoln's legacy as the "Great Emancipator" is deserved, as his actions ended up making a profound and lasting change in this nation, whether he anticipated it or not.  I'm still not sure I'm convinced, but the argument is solid. 

A good, informative read which I was able to whip through in a day or so.  Worth the time.

"Brown Girl Dreaming" by Jacqueline Woodson

Can't believe it took me so long to read this award-winner, particularly because I count Jacqueline Woodson as one of my top 20 YA authors.  I met her once, a long time ago, and assumed she was much younger than me, given her vibrant energy and youthful demeanor.  She isn't.  According to this book, she is exactly three months older than me.  I've always felt a strange sort of kinship with her, however, through her work.  This autobiographical tale solidified that in many ways.  We were both born into an extraordinary time when the world, particularly in America, was changing very rapidly.  Like me, the history of her family plays an important part in her narrative, and both of us struggled with absent parents.  We listened to the same music on the radio and played the same board games on rainy days.  Our families were similar in make-up although roles are sometimes reversed.  I reacted to my brother's birth much like her brother reacted to her, and I was the bookish older sister who made my younger brother self-conscious with teachers who knew us both.  Ms. Woodson and I both had big gaps between our front teeth, spent time with grandparents bent on the way of faith, and had mothers determined that education would better us.  We are both "the same yet different."  There are real differences, of course.  Jacqueline Woodson is black and spent significant time in the deep south in the 1960s.  Not an easy time, or place, to be different.  She was a tomboy and hated to read and cook, although she enjoyed stories, words, and a good meal.  Her struggles with reading at an early age makes her skill as an award-winning adult writer even more impressive.  That being said, her normally fabulous prose is even more elevated here, where she uses poetry to convey the story.  The sparcity of words makes the message meaningful and striking.  Small haikus on "How to Listen" dot the various sections with strong imagery, while her struggle to find the right words, as a child, are a literary triumph in and of themselves.  The book begins before Jacqueline Woodson begins, with family history, and weaves through the early young years of this talented woman's life.  It isn't so much memory (she couldn't possibly remember some of the tales recounted here, given her age at the time), but rather a tapestry of life and family bonds.  It is a rich tale, a beautiful one, an ordinary one and a profound one.  Once again, Woodson hits the mark with a book fully deserving of the praise piled upon it.  Can't wait to see the "next chapter."  So much of her life is like mine, but I'm curious as to what happened as she grew up and had to deal with being different within her own family dynamics.  In any case, this is a writer with many years ahead.  She will undoubtably continue to enrich us.

"Beowulf" and "Romeo and Juliet" by Gareth Hinds

There is a lot to like in these two books by graphic artist Gareth Hinds.  There are also some things I didn't like.  The end result was ... mixed. 

"Beowulf", which  is the older of the two books, actually has much more sophisticated artwork than "Romeo and Juliet".  It is stunning design which really captured me.  There are variety of styles, good use of perspective, sophisticated technique and a lot of layers and depth.  Action sequences, for instance, are delineated by heavy use of line, drawn across images, to create a sense of extremely fast, powerful motion.  The violence is extreme and the "creep factor" well played.  Grendel first appears as a dark image in a dark forest, his outline blending with black trees.  In full appearance, he is truly terrifying, with "close-up" used to really drive points (and body blows) home.  Many body parts are ripped off, bodies are sometimes crushed in his grasp, and black blood pours out and stretches across panels.  The choice to make the blood dark is smart, and the effect is visceral. 

The artwork in "Romeo and Juliet" is actually far more simplistic, in comparison, which seems odd given that this book was created seven years after "Beowulf."  In terms of art, there is little that is notable about this book, in comparison, other than the same use of line to convey action and color to show a change in mood.  Overall, it seems a bit flat and two-dimensional.  Mr. Hinds does choose to make the cast interracial (Romeo is black, Juliet is Indian).  In the opening and closing notes, he mentions this, saying he wasn't trying to make a statement, just wanted to reflect the current world.  In that, he does well.  I'm not sure, however, how I feel about the half and half on costuming.  He sets the story in 16th Century Italy, but the dress is not unlike the CW's "Reign" -- kind of contemporary/old-fashioned.  Juliet's dress at the party ends just below the knee and her ensemble is completed with hip boots, while Tybalt runs around with Tudor pants but leaves his shirt off, presumably so that we can see his fabulous abs and extensive tattoo, drawn to perfection.  Hinds mentions the costuming in the end, discussing his choices, but much of the notes focus on the architecture, which, frankly, I didn't even notice.  This isn't really an "atmospheric tale" where the setting plays heavily into the main plot points.  Hinds is clearly better at action than the romance scenes, which are fairly static, and he doesn't change perspective much.  Almost the entire tale is told through a medium lens.  There are few long shots and no closeups until the end.  He also puts in "Thwonk" words during the fights -- which was simply distracting and reminded me of the 1960s Batman TV show and their "Zowies".  I don't want to rag on Gareth Hinds for a story I'm not wild about in the first place.  Many of my issues are, and have always been, the way most view this tale.  It's supposed to be the greatest love story of all time, but I wonder if that was what Shakespeare really intended.  Note that Romeo is teased, right from the beginning, for being someone who falls head over heels with every girl he meets.  People also forget that he goes to the Capulet party to meet ~~another~~ girl, and then forgets about her the minute he sees Juliet.  I can't help wonder if the real point of this story about love-soaked teens was to say that this "disease" is "full of sound and fury, signifying nothing."  The moral is clearly not about the duo, but about family feuds.  In any case, I digress.

In both stories, Hinds uses adapted versions of the actual texts (in the case of "Beowulf", a translation) and this is where I took some issue.  I know "Romeo and Juliet" very well and could follow the story, and recognized where liberties were taken, very easily.   The editing of the text is  a bit questionable, however -- he cuts out most of the Nurse, but leaves in the Friar's monologue to his garden.  He defines some terms throughout, but it seems to be random -- defining some more simple terms while ignoring more complex ones.  I also don't agree with one of the definitions, where he states the (obscene) term is "Cupid's Blunt Arrow" -- um, no.  Shakespeare was making a very (very) dirty joke here.  In the case of "Beowulf", which I do not know very well, I understood the overall bones of the thing, but got fairly lost on the details.  In the end notes to that story, Hinds mentions the sage/oracle.  I was "huh?"  I had no idea who the oracle was, and couldn't figure it out, even when flipping back through it.

Bottom line for both books:  Hinds, who is clearly an artist, but not a writer, often switches between dialogue and images to tell the tales, rather than marry the artwork to the narrative.  It makes for a good visual, but a fractured experience as far as a story through-line is concerned.  In "Beowulf", he also gets a teensy bit preachy, showing an image of the NYC twin towers from 9/11 when the old King warns Beowulf of the destructive power of pride.  (That being said, he also apologizes, by name, to the students he bullied in high school in his end notes.  That was a first).  My sense is that these books (and others by Gareth Hinds) will engage young people in classic literature, and do a great job balancing the classic language with a contemporary feel, making the tales accessible.  "Beowulf", in particular, has artwork that will have students re-reading it and discovering something new on the second pass.  As for me, they were "serviceable" but didn't knock it out of the park.

"Proxy" by Alex London

Every once in a while, you find a really good phrase in this book, like "It reminded him of all the other beatings he'd ever taken, his memory filled with the echo of wounds."  Unfortunately, those are few and far between.  I tried to find the parts of this book that make it so popular.  Teens love it.  But I have to say, I felt like I was slogging through it, more focused on what was wrong than what was right.  Let's start with the writing.  It's very inconsistent.  There are phrases like the one above, and really lame, unrealistic dialog.  There is first person, third person and who knows what kind of narration.  It starts with the voices separated by chapters -- first, the voice of Knox, then, the voice of Syd.  As their lives cross, however, their voices do, too.  Next thing you know, the perspective changes every paragraph, with that of other characters (such as Egan and Marie) thrown in for good measure.  Then, there are the themes.  I get why teens like them.  There is a good deal of "put upon" teen angst, along with a lot of "us against the overlords" kind of thing, but, in contrast with other popular post-apocalyptic/dystopian fiction, this just doesn't hold up.  For one thing, it feels dated.  One of the main themes is reminiscent of the Occupy Wall Street/We are the 99% movement.  "Corporations bad" and technology, feeding on every capitalistic action we take, is worse.  The point is hammered (and hammered, and battered) in, over and over again, until you just don't care.  And, I'm sorry, Occupy Wall Street is so 2011.  Then, there is the blatant racism, bigotry, etc.  Syd is constantly treated a certain way, and hassled (along the lines of the F word -- the other F word), because he is gay.  He is hassled for being brown-skinned.  His friend is hassled for being Jewish.  Yes, racism still exists today.  Yes, there is a backlash to the openess we are seeing in society these days, openly discussing those things that used to be taboo.  But this novel supposedly takes place in the way, way future.  Given where we are now, and the predictions of race mixing in the coming years, and the perceptions of the Millennials about race and gender, it feels like this book takes place in 1982, not 21-whatever.  If you want a good book about being gay in America, check out David Levithan's veritable masterpiece "Two Boys Kissing."  While reading this one, I couldn't help but think it was more about the author's youth than a future that was in any way possible.  Lastly, I didn't like the characters much.  The most appealing character is Syd, but he, like Thelma and Louise, trods a path of liberation not by choice, but because he is forced down one road after another.  It's more like fate than character development.  The same goes for Knox.  He is a character without one single redeeming value, until the very end, with a twist that I saw coming from the very beginning of the tale.  There is Egan, whose role ends up being kind of pointless, and Marie, whose passion is denigrated by others as a "cause girl."  The previews, at the end of the book, didn't do much to make me want to keep reading.  The "prequel" is basically the story I just read, with a lot more exposition, and the one chapter of the next story isn't enough to get a real taste (although, in Liam, there might be a character I like).  In any case, if you eat up every dystopian novel, go for it.  For me, it was just a moralistic, preachy mess.