Joslyn's Book Blog

Weekly reviews of children's/YA books for my INFO 5420 class.

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Module 15: The Perks of Being a Wallflower

Book Summary

Stephen Chbosky’s 1999 epistolary coming-of-age novel features an introverted teenager, Charlie, as he struggles through his first year of high school.

Written as a anonymous series of letters, the reader learns about Charlie from a first-person and near-stream of consciousness perspective. Shy and unpopular, Charlie thinks unconventionally and is extremely intelligent. Throughout his year at a Pittsburgh suburb high school, he befriends two seniors, Patrick and Sam, who are step-siblings. Patrick is dating a closeted football player named Brad, and Charlie immediately falls in love with Sam.

Meanwhile, Charlie’s sister is dating an abusive boyfriend. After agreeing to keep it a secret, he eventually tells his teacher/mentor Mr. Anderson who tells the parents.

As the novel progresses, Charlie deals with his sexuality, friendships, the dating world, drug use, and the Rocky Horror Picture Show.

At the end of the book, Charlie fears losing his older friends, especially Sam, as she goes to a college-prep program. Charlie helps her pack and admits, again, his feelings for her. Sam kisses Charlie and the two begin to have sex, but Charlie stops her as he feels uncomfortable for some reason. Charlie realizes later that his sexual encounter with Sam reminded him of being molested by his favorite aunt when he was a child.

Charlie is in catatonic shock after his realization and is admitted to a mental hospital. Two months later, he is released and visited by Sam and Patrick, who take him driving through a tunnel where Charlie proclaims he is “infinite.” After this, he decides to “participate” in real life and stops his letter writing.

APA Citation

Chbosky, S. (1999). The perks of being a wallflower. New York, NY: Pocket Books.

Impressions

I’ve wanted to read this book since high school, but the book was banned from my school library. It’s often banned from schools because of drug use, homosexuality, suicide, sexually explicit scenes, and strong language. However, this book is important and relevant for teenagers who are dealing with introversion, building friendships, a growing sexuality, potential drug use, and the social shame of homosexuality.

In spite of the book’s success (even on screen), Charlie’s introversion and sensitivity is overused in YA lit. His angst can sometimes be suffocating and annoying. Additionally, the author uses Sam merely as a plot device for Charlie to discover his own self instead of being a fully developed character on her own.

The problems in the book are not to say it is not an enjoyable read; Chbosky’s writing is fantastic and becoming the recipient of Charlie’s letters is crushing, fun, interesting, and difficult. I would only recommend this book for older high school readers.

Professional Review

Aspiring filmmaker/first-novelist Chbosky adds an upbeat ending to a tale of teenaged angst—the right combination of realism and uplift to allow it on high school reading lists, though some might object to the sexuality, drinking, and dope-smoking. More sophisticated readers might object to the rip-off of Salinger, though Chbosky pays homage by having his protagonist read Catcher in the Rye. Like Holden, Charlie oozes sincerity, rails against celebrity phoniness, and feels an extraliterary bond with his favorite writers (Harper Lee, Fitzgerald, Kerouac, Ayn Rand, etc.). But Charlie’s no rich kid: the third child in a middle-class family, he attends public school in western Pennsylvania, has an older brother who plays football at Penn State, and an older sister who worries about boys a lot. An epistolary novel addressed to an anonymous “friend,” Charlie’s letters cover his first year in high school, a time haunted by the recent suicide of his best friend. Always quick to shed tears, Charlie also feels guilty about the death of his Aunt Helen, a troubled woman who lived with Charlie’s family at the time of her fatal car wreck. Though he begins as a friendless observer, Charlie is soon pals with seniors Patrick and Sam (for Samantha), stepsiblings who include Charlie in their circle, where he smokes pot for the first time, drops acid, and falls madly in love with the inaccessible Sam. His first relationship ends miserably because Charlie remains compulsively honest, though he proves a loyal friend (to Patrick when he’s gay-bashed) and brother (when his sister needs an abortion). Depressed when all his friends prepare for college, Charlie has a catatonic breakdown, which resolves itself neatly and reveals a long-repressed truth about Aunt Helen. A plain-written narrative suggesting that passivity, and thinking too much, lead to confusion and anxiety. Perhaps the folks at (co-publisher) MTV see the synergy here with Daria or any number of videos by the sensitive singer-songwriters they feature.

Perks. (1999, Feb. 4). The perks of being a wallflower [Review of book The Perks of Being a Wallflower]. Kirkus Reviews. Retrieved from https://www.kirkusreviews.com/book-reviews/stephen-chbosky/the-perks-of-being-a-wallflower/#review.

Library Uses

The Perks of Being a Wallflower would be best used during banned-books week either as a book club book or in a display case.

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Module 14: Comets, Stars, the Moon, and Mars

Book Summary 

Douglas Florian’s collection of poems, Comets, Stars, the Moon, and Mars, focuses on objects and places in outer space.

Galaxies, planets in our solar system, the sun, moon, and more are described within his poetry. Each poem focuses on one topic and includes new vocabulary with context clues to help young readers. As the book goes on, the topics narrow down from broad (the universe, the sky) to specific (comets, planets).

APA Citation

Florian, D. (2007). Comets, stars, the moon, and mars. Orlando, FL: Harcourt

Impressions

The illustrations in this book are superb and work perfectly with the detailed and informative poems for children. The poems reflect beautifully on several aspects of the universe, from our solar system and beyond. In the image above, it’s obvious the author’s creativity as the poem is written in a circular format to imitate the shape of a galaxy. This poetry book would work well for beginning poetry readers and especially for those with a interest in space.

Professional Review

In space, no one can hear you giggle. Except maybe Douglas Florian.

The poet-painter’s latest book brings warm wit to the outermost reaches of cold, dark space. Twenty short poems paired with paintings on double-page spreads create an interstellar journey, starting with “Skywatch,” an invitation to the pleasures of amateur astronomy. The book travels through our solar system and ends up in the somewhat vaguer territory of comets, black holes and “the Great Beyond.” At the end, there’s a “galactic glossary” and a short bibliography with suggestions for further reading. (Tots demanding “A Brief History of Time”? Blame this book!)

Florian’s illustrations depict the marvels of space with luminous texture and detail. Painted in gouache on brown paper bags, they’re littered with a secondary text of rubber-stamped words and collaged with scraps of star maps, photographs and other surprises. Die-cut, circular peepholes give glimpses of stars and planets from neighboring pages.

The most engaging verses in “Comets, Stars” serve up planetary facts with a dose of cheeky humor. Take, for example, “Venus”: “Scalding-hot surface, / Nine hundred degrees. / Nothing can live there, / No creatures, / No trees. / Poisonous clouds / Of acid above. / Why was it named for / the goddess of love?” Or “Pluto,” a riff on cosmic injustice: “Pluto was a planet. / But now it doesn’t pass. / Pluto was a planet. / They say it’s lacking mass. / Pluto was a planet. / Pluto was admired. / Pluto was a planet. / Till one day it got fired.” Poor Pluto!

It should be noted that these are standout stanzas. Some of Florian’s poems stumble on lumpy rhymes or fall flat (see “The Comet,” which begins: “Ice, rock, dirt / Metal and gas — / Around the sun / A comet may pass.”) Previous books better showcase his lively writing with subjects that are — quite literally — alive. His “Insectlopedia” and “Mammalabilia” offer hilarious observations of animals, while collections like “Winter Eyes” find poignancy in the shared seasonal rituals of human beings. Until we find life on Mars, Florian’s most enjoyable work will probably stay rooted here, on plain old planet Earth.

Bruder, J. (2007, June 3). Sunday Book Review [Review of Comets, Stars, the Moon, and Mars by D. Florian]. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2007/06/03/books/review/Bruder-t.html?_r=0.

Library Uses

This book could be used for a variety of library lessons. A story time would be great where children could make a solar system model, color pictures, or make star maps. Alternatively, this book could be used in a display focusing on the solar system.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 13: Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder

Book Summary

One of Barbara Park’s famous novels in her years-long series detailing Junie B. Jones’ life, Junie B., First Grader: Toothless Wonder, she loses her second tooth ever and must deal with the emotions following her loss.

Always comical reads, the Junie B. Jones series explores life for a young girl living with her parents Robert and Susan, her baby brother Ollie, and her dog named Tickle. In this novel she is a six-year-old first grader out to make friends with the world and get into all sorts of troublesome adventures.

When she loses her tooth, Junie B. couldn’t be more excited to be the only first grader in her class to lose a top-row baby tooth. However, she overthinks the situation in typical Junie B. fashion, thinking she might end up looking like her toothless uncle and fearing the “tooth fairy’s” -- AKA tooth witch -- obvious desire to eat teeth like apples.

APA Citation

Park, B. (2002). Junie B., first grader: Toothless wonder. New York, NY: Random House.

Impressions

Any Junie B. Jones book is a delight to read. Hilarious and charming, Junie B. gets herself into the most ridiculous situations as only a first grader could. Her non-stop obsession with the truth of the tooth fairy will make both children and adults laugh out loud and question other institutions that suddenly don’t make sense anymore. Her rationalizations, however creative, begin to be understood albeit easy to make fun of. After all, we’ve all been there. Junie B. helps adult readers return to their child-like innocence and young readers revel in the fun of their childhood.

Professional Review

As the story begins, Junie B. struggles with the discomfort of a loose top tooth and the prospect of looking different once it is gone. When the tooth falls out, however, these issues pale beside the question of whether to put it under her pillow, since the story of the tooth fairy just doesn’t make sense to her. After all, what does the tooth fairy do with all those teeth? Armed with a scientist’s drive to know the truth and a six-year-old’s knowledge base and logic, Junie B. finds her own answer to the question. Occasionally the humor seems aimed at adults, but children a little older than Junie B. will definitely find this beginning chapter book amusing and occasionally laugh-out-loud funny. With its vivid portrayal of a first-grade classroom and a child’s point of view, this is a welcome addition to the popular series.

Phelan, C. (2002, November). Junie B., first grader: Toothless wonder [Review of the book Junie B., first grader: Toothless wonder, by B. Park]. Booklist, 99(5), 49. Retrieved from: http://www.booklistonline.com/.

Library Uses

The Junie B. Jones series could be used in a elementary school library display, and the books can be used to encourage struggling readers to learn to read chapter books in a fun, easy way.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 12: Odd Boy Out

Book Summary

Odd Boy Out: Young Albert Einstein, published in 2004 by Don Brown, gives young readers a new perspective at the math and science expert Albert Einstein.

The stories included in the book are comical and touching, showing a boy disconnected from his peers, teachers, and the world at large. Toward the end, the book shows how Einstein developed from a difficult child to the world’s most appreciated theoretical physicist.

APA Citation

Brown, D. (2004). Odd boy out: Young Albert Einstein. New York, NY: Houghton Mifflin Company.

Impressions

Brown’s anecdotes give Einstein a humanity and relatability that is often missing from traditional texts. Children will love this story as they see how a person with behavior problems, doubt from teachers, and lack of standardized “intelligence” can be one of the most influential scientists, truly intelligent and creative humans to ever exist in history. Additionally, the illustrations make the book that much more clever and entertaining for children and adults alike. This book is a must-read for young students studying Einstein.

Professional Review

Brown maintains a delicate tension between his accessible presentation (a straightforward text and uncluttered illustrations) and his extraordinary subject (the legendary twentieth-century physicist whose complex ideas revolutionized science and daily life). For someone whose name is synonymous with genius, Albert Einstein's early years were far from auspicious. Brown carefully and effectively summarizes events, choosing telling details to paint a portrait of an introspective child who struggles in school and whose frustrated teachers wonder if Albert is "dull-witted." In the somber watercolor and ink illustrations, young Albert's physical separation from other figures emphasizes his psychological disconnection from the goings on around him (as do his almost-always-closed eyes). Brown introduces Einstein's famous theories with a light touch, keeping the focus on the boy/young man. The book's message about different ways of and approaches to learning is clear and will surely be appreciated by the intended audience. An author's note debunks a few myths surrounding the man and his work, and a short bibliography rounds out this inspired picture-book biography.

Flynn, K. (2004). Odd boy out: Young Albert Einstein [Review of book Odd boy out: Young Albert Einstein by Don Brown]. Horn Book Magazine, 80(5), 604-605. Retrieved from: http://archive.hbook.com/ magazine/.

Library Uses

Odd Boy Out could be used for a story time. A physicist, maker spaces could be involved in helping students create card towers, compasses, or star maps.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 11: Zombie Makers

Book Summary

Rebecca L. Johnson’s 2013 informational picture book, Zombie Makers: True Stories of Nature’s Undead, gives an in-depth and entertaining look at a variety of parasites that take control of their hosts minds and bodies.

Johnson touches on a wide variety of zombie makers sucha s fungus, worms, and viruses. E. muscae, O. unilateris, P. tricuspidatus, D. medinensis, U. compressa, glyptapanteles wasps, rabies, M. neotropicum, L. paradoxum, and T. gondii are all discussed with descriptions of their behaviors, photographs of their prey, microscopic images of the parasites, graphics of the fully grown bugs, re-enactments of their infection processes, and more.

APA Citation

Johnson, R.L. (2013). Zombie makers: True stories of nature’s undead. Minneapolis, MN: Millbrook Press.

Impressions

With her advanced degrees in biology and design, Johnson creates a sensational book of parasites, or “zombie makers,” with (tasteful) blood decorations across the pages and dramatic re-enactment descriptions of the zombie makers infection process. Without diminishing or changing facts, Johnson presents a chapter book to appeal to kids of any age. Her heightened descriptions and zombie theme bring a typically boring topic to an undead life. The author takes a factual position with an entertaining tone. While the text is educational, it is presented in such a way for young readers to enjoy -- especially ones interested in bugs and science.

Professional Review

With the popularity of zombie books and movies today, can you imagine a student’s excitement when seeing this title? How cool! And it’s not science fiction, it’s science…carefully researched and documented. Zombie makers, which may be a fungus, parasite, insect, or worm, take control of animals by injecting them either through the bloodstream or brain and making them their zombie “slaves.” Clear, close-up photographs (some on a microscopic level) document both the process of paralysis and the results, which are described on a behavioral as well as a cellular level. After the general description of the zombie-making process, there is a section titled “The Science Behind the Story.” The biology and physiology of the process are described at a middle school level so that students can understand not only the zombie makers’ behavior and life-cycles, but also what is happening internally in the host animals. As an added bonus, the scientists who researched the phenomena are documented and their experiments and research activities described. I highly recommend this book, which will appeal to all readers. Teachers, please give your students a chance to enjoy this book, too!

Schoen-Giddings, L. (2013). Zombie makers: True stories of nature's undead [Review of Zombie makers: True stories of nature's undead by Rebecca L. Johnson]. Science Scope, 36(7), 108. 

Library Uses

With the popularity of zombie movies, books, and TV shows right now, the ideal library use for Zombie Makers is in a display with other nonfiction books exploring the same topics.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 10: The Book Thief

Book Summary

Published in 2005, Markus Zusak’s bestseller follows the story of Liesel Meminger, a nine-year-old child, living in Germany during the reign of the Nazis during World War II. Narrated by Death, The Book Thief follows Liesel as she experiences life in this era.

When her brother dies on a train ride in the beginning of the story, Death first encounters Liesel. Liesel’s story is told non-linearly as she meets her new foster parents (Hans “Papa” and Rosa “Mama” Hubermann) and is exposed to the horrors of World War II in Germany. During this time, her foster parents hide a Jewish man, Max, and Papa teaches Liesel to read. When Liesel recognizes the power of books, she begins to steal and save books the Nazis are looking to destroy. She also writes her own story, beginning a journey of self-discovery.

APA Citation

Zusak, M. (2005). The book thief. New York, NY: Knopf.

Impressions

The Book Thief is very likely the best historical fiction novel I have ever read. Nazi cruelty, unexpected bombings, painful goodbyes and reunions make for a poignant tale. Death made the perfect narrator for the book, as he is not scary but is attentive and contemplative. The Book Thief runs through the full range of human emotions, and causes the reader to hope beyond all hope that everything will turn out okay.

In terms of the setting, The Book Thief is strikingly accurate. every kind of person you could possibly think up for a story about WWII, from the innocent bystanders, prisoners, and the Nazis who truly believe in Hitler's ideas. Liesel is a complex and multifaceted character that felt very true to a young woman in a tough situation.

Professional Review

Markus Zusak has not really written "Harry Potter and the Holocaust." It just feels that way. "The Book Thief" is perched on the cusp between grown-up and young-adult fiction, and it is loaded with librarian appeal. It deplores human misery. It celebrates the power of language. It may encourage adolescents to read. It has an element of the fanciful. And it's a book that bestows a self-congratulatory glow upon anyone willing to grapple with it.

"The Book Thief" resembles other, better novels that have been widely popular. Its roundabout approach to the Holocaust suggests "Everything Is Illuminated" Lite. Its embattled, feisty young heroine has a Potterish appeal as she makes her way through a mystifying adult world. There is a Vonnegut whimsy to the mordant turns of fate here. And Mr. Zusak's narrator offers constant manipulative asides, as in the clever Lemony Snicket books, although in this case wit is not much of an option. The narrator is Death.

How can a tale told by Death be mistaken for young-adult storytelling? Easily: because this book's narrator is sorry for what he has to do. "To me, war is like the new boss who expects the impossible," he confides, on one of many occasions when he campaigns to win readers' approval. "You see?" he says, about the demise of one of the book's best-liked characters. "Even death has a heart."

The youthful sensibility of "The Book Thief" also contributes to a wider innocence. While it is set in Germany during World War II and is not immune to bloodshed, most of this story is figurative: it unfolds as symbolic or metaphorical abstraction. The dominoes lined up on its cover are compared to falling bodies. The book thief of the title is a schoolgirl named Liesel Meminger, and the meaning of her stealing is not left unexplained. She has been robbed of a brother, who dies at the start of the book. Her mother disappears, and then Liesel is left in foster care. A great deal has been taken away from her. She steals books to settle the score.

The first book taken by Liesel offers a sampling of Mr. Zusak's real but easily oversold charm. It is called "The Grave Digger's Handbook," and is subtitled "A Twelve-Step Guide to Grave-Digging Success." Liesel finds it at the cemetery where her brother is buried. And it becomes her link to the past, even after she is put in the care of Rosa and Hans Hubermann, whose household is colorful to the point of dangerous whimsy. Hans finds life-affirming ways to play the accordion, for example.

Liesel lives in a town called Molching, which is close enough to Munich for its residents to see Jews being sent to the Dachau concentration camp nearby. Since Liesel is Lutheran, she is not in any danger of sharing this fate, although the effects of the war on Germans are strongly felt. But Liesel finds herself forced into a Hitler Youth uniform. And perversely, the Führer's "Mein Kampf" becomes one of the books that are important in her life.

Mr. Zusak does his imaginative best to make sure that no Nazi touchstone like "Mein Kampf" is treated in a predictable way. Hitler's book first helps to save a young Jewish man named Max Vandenburg, who is hidden by the Hubermanns. Then, with its pages turned blank by white paint, it is transformed into an entirely different book altogether. And it helps to forge an everlasting connection between Liesel and Max.

"The Book Thief" is a long, winding tale, punctuated by Death's commentary. ("By the way — I like this human idea of the grim reaper. I like the scythe. It amuses me.") Most of it is confined to Molching and has a coyly claustrophobic outlook. As Liesel and her best friend, Rudy Steiner, trade dubious endearments (most of which translate as "You filthy pig!"), they also commit small, meaningful acts of defiance against the Nazi regime. Even transgressions as tiny as the stealing of apples are woven and rewoven into the story.

"So much good, so much evil,"   Death says of human nature. "Just add water." Beyond its many variations on that idea, "The Book Thief" adds up to a string of anecdotes that are tinged with quiet horror. At its most effective, the book's tone can be terrifyingly matter of fact. "For the book thief, everything was going nicely," Death observes, as the extermination camps flourish in the summer of 1942. "For me, the sky was the color of Jews."

It's possible to be overwhelmed and impressed by such moments in Mr. Zusak's novel. It's also possible to wish there were more of them, that their impact were sharper, and that the book were less fussy, more certain of its own strength.

To be sure, "The Book Thief" attempts and achieves great final moments of tear-jerking sentiment. And Liesel is a fine heroine, a memorably strong and dauntless girl. But for every startlingly rebellious episode — Rudy's Führer-baiting impersonation of the black American athlete Jesse Owens, the building of an indoor snowman for a Jew in hiding, the creation of books and drawings that frame Liesel and Max's experiences as life-affirming fairy tales — there are moments that are slack.

"The Book Thief" will be appreciated for Mr. Zusak's audacity, also on display in his earlier "I Am the Messenger." It will be widely read and admired because it tells a story in which books become treasures. And because there's no arguing with a sentiment like that.

Maslin, J. (2006, March 27). Stealing to settle a score with life [Review of The Book Thief by Markus Zusak]. The New York Times. Retreived from: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/03/27/books/27masl.html?_r=0.

Library Uses

The Book Thief could be used primarily as suggested reading for students studying WWII in their classes, or added to a list of other WWII books like Night by Elie Wiesel and A Diary of a Young Girl by Anne Frank.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 9: The Maze of Bones

Book Summary

The first in the series, Rick Riordan’s The Maze of Bones leads the way for the first set of The 39 Clues, featuring several books published by multiple authors.

In The Maze of Bones, published in 2008, Amy and Dan’s story begins to unfold. Orphaned siblings living in Boston with their Aunt Beatrice, the book begins with the two attending their grandmother Grace Cahill’s funeral.

During the funeral, Grace’s lawyer, William McIntyre, shows Amy, Dan, and a few other Cahills a video of their deceased family member offering them either one million dollars or a change to be the greatest Cahill in history. Amy and Dan choose the challenge, as well as a few of their family members. The challenge includes the clue: “Resolution: The fine print to guess. Seek out Richard S__.” Additionally, Amy and Dan are warned to “Beware the Madrigals.”

The siblings find Poor Richard’s Almanac in their grandmother’s secret library, moments before her mansion burns down.

The clue leads the siblings to the Franklin Institute, which subsequently collapses just after their escape.

Next, the two travel to France. They go to the Paris Catacombs to find bones with numbers on them. Placed by Franklins many years before, they give the coordinates to the next clue. 

The next clue is found at a church with a portrait of the four original Cahills -- after which the four Cahill families are named. Inside a room there is a small vial, scrambled words written on the outside. It’s an anagram which Dan solves, and the siblings place the vial into a lightning rod to charge it. The Kabras (a section of the Cahill family) steal the vial immediately after Amy charges it. The siblings still hold the original paper, though, and solve a puzzle for the clue “Iron Solute.” When Amy searches online for more information on Benjamin Franklin, it leads them to the location of the second Clue: Vienna, Austria.

APA Citation

Riordan, R. (2008). The maze of bones. New York, NY: Scholastic.

Impressions

The 39 Clues is a series of novels written by authors such as David Baldacci, Margaret Peterson Haddix, Peter Lerangis, Linda Sue Park, Patrick Carman, and of course Rick Riordan, among others. The series itself is broken into four series: The Clue Hunt, Cahills vs. Vespers, Unstoppable, and Doublecross that all follow the adventures of Amy and Dan Cahill as they discover their family’s power and reach in history.

The Maze of Bones introduces the series and the protagonists, Amy and Dan. Throughout the novel, the two learn about themselves and their own talents while discovering the truth of their own family.

Riordan -- who was popularized with the Percy Jackson and the Olympians series -- wrote the first novel and outlined several more. Not only does the book incorporate one important historical figure in each, but also includes an online treasure hunt game that can be played at www.the39clues.com.

Professional Review

“The Maze of Bones,” which sends a pair of likable orphans on a world-spanning treasure hunt, displays a glossy, tightly engineered appeal. The book is the first installment of “The 39 Clues,” a multimedia extravaganza that combines a 10-book series, collectible playing cards, online puzzles and a contest with more than $100,000 in prizes. Scholastic may be hoping to recapture some of the Harry Potter demographic, by force if necessary: the press kit announces a first printing of a million copies worldwide, a multimillion-dollar marketing blitz and a “grassroots blogging campaign”; Steven Spielberg is poised to bring out a film version.

There is, yes, also a book involved. The premise of “The Maze of Bones” is dramatic and instantly engaging: Amy and Dan Cahill are orphans, brother and sister, neglected by their many rich relations. When their beloved grandmother dies, she leaves her descendants an unorthodox will: either accept a bank voucher worth $1 million,or else, “you shall be given the first of 39 clues. These clues will lead you to a secret, which, should you find it, will make you the most powerful, influential human beings on the planet.”

Amy and Dan opt for the clues, pitting themselves against a cast of relatives who range from obnoxious to menacing to merely skeevy. Adventures, travel and hairbreadth escapes follow, interspersed with the odd historical anecdote, as we learn that every single famous or influential person of the past few centuries has been a member of the Cahill family.

Rick Riordan, who wrote the first book and has planned the 10-book arc, is the best-selling author of both adult and young adult mysteries. The story is an almost note-perfect blend of “Harry Potter” (orphans! special families!) and “The Da Vinci Code” (puzzles! history!), with a dash of “Great Expectations,” although where Pip’s expectations lead him to a bittersweet grown-up wisdom, I have a hunch the Cahill orphans will be getting something much nicer.

Bookish Amy and hyperactive Dan are agreeably flawed characters but have an undeniably focus-grouped, manufactured quality — as does, let’s face it, the whole book. The supporting cast is, with few exceptions, made up of types: sinister spies, bullies, snobs and self-involved celebrities. I found myself wishing for a little of the psychologically resonant darkness or moral ambiguity of a Roald Dahl or Maurice Sendak, authors who showed that books written for children don’t have to be entirely child-safe. When the book tells us that Dan loved his grandmother because “she’d treated him and Amy like real people, not kids,” we hear what’s wrong. The writing is carefully bland, as if it didn’t trust its readers enough.

“The Maze of Bones” is only the beginning of an elaborate online game that will unfold over the next few years. Each of the first 10 books is projected to reveal one clue per title; the other 29 will come from solving online-only puzzles. The entry-point is an elaborate Web site (www.the39clues.com), which offers games, blogs written by characters and pages of additional lore about the Cahills. Each visitor is invited to take the role of a member of the Cahill family searching for the titular clues (competing against the books’ ­heroes, but c’est la guerre).

The secondary revenue stream — excuse me, series of collectable cards — unlocks more content and more puzzles, leading players into the larger-scale contest to solve the mystery behind all 39 clues; if they manage that, they’ll get a chance at a $10,000 grand prize. The puzzles themselves follow serviceable but shopworn formulas: anagrams and numbers-to-letters codes, interspersed with unremarkable arcade-style games. I was hoping for a chance to play detective, to use my powers of observation and deduction to arrive at the brilliant solution to a dark and obscure mystery. Instead, it was a matter of doing a little arithmetic and clicking the mouse enough times. After passing four or five simple challenges, I was awarded my clue in the form of a short video presentation.

There are, however, hints that the creators are building a more profound play experience modeled on the emerging genre of alternate reality games — online games in which thousands of players solve a sprawling mystery together, finding clues hidden in places like dummy Web sites and recorded phone messages. The players share information and create theories to explain what they’ve seen. (I Love Bees and Perplex City are seminal examples of the form.)

It will be hard for “The 39 Clues” to reproduce this effect, partly because safety restrictions forbid players from communicating directly through the Web site. More important, the puzzles offer relatively little scope for using your creativity — to solve problems your own way or add your own stories to the larger matrix. It’s still early in the process, though, and there are hints that as the game evolves, participants will encounter a more layered mystery to unravel.

Much depends on building an enthusiastic fan base of players who will add their own imagination to the experience.To me, “The Maze of Bones” feels too calculated to invest in wholeheartedly, too eager to please. It’s a story about people born into the most privileged family in the world, who then set out to become the most important people in history. Whatever happened to just owning your own chocolate factory?

Grossman, A. (2008). First prize: World domination [Review of book Maze of Bones by R. Riordan]. The New York Times. Retrieved from: http://www.nytimes.com/2008/11/09/books/review/Grossman-t.html.

Library Uses

The Maze of Bones could be used in a library to attract older elementary and younger junior high students to a multi-media reading adventure, with a competition involved in the online game so students can challenge one another. The library could offer different prizes: copies of the books and merch to go along with it is one idea.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 8: The Phantom Tollbooth

Book Summary

Norton Juster’s adventure novel/fairy tale was published in 1961. In it, a young boy named Milo who, bored with the world around him, is transported magically through a phantom tollbooth -- labeled “For Milo, who has plenty of time” -- to the Kingdom of Wisdom.

Along the way, Milo meets a “watchdog” named Tock (a dog with a clock on him) and the two adventure through the Kingdom. They visit Dictionopolis and the Word Market and are arrested following a fight between the Spelling Bee and the Humbug. In prison, Milo meets the Which (aka Faintly Macabre) who tell Milo the history of the Kingdom of Wisdom. King Azaz the Unabridged and the Mathmagician’s younger sisters, Rhyme and Reason, served as peacemakers for all the kingdom. At least, until Rhyme and Reason announced their decision that letters and numbers are equally important -- a decision that King Azaz and the Mathemagician did not approve of. The princesses were banished to the Castle in the Air. Upon hearing the story, Milo and Tock are determined to rescue Rhyme and Reason.

After earning King Azaz’s approval, Milo and Tock (with the Humbug as a guide) must travel to Digitopolis to seek the Mathemagicians’s approval.

As they travel, they meet Alec Bings (who will grow until he reaches the ground) and Chroma the Great (a color conductor who directs his orchestra to play the colors of the skies).

When Milo, Tock, and Humbug reach Digitopolis, they are able to convince the Mathemagician of their need to rescue the princesses.

The Terrible Trivium and Senses Taker are met during the journey on the Mountains of Ignorance. When they reach the Castle in the Air, the princesses agree to return to the Kingdom of Wisdom. When the group leaves, Tock carries them in the sky (since time flies) and the princesses are reconciled with King Azaz and the Mathemagician. A three-day carnival ensues to celebrate the return of Rhyme and Reason.

Milo leaves through the tollbooth like he came, only to discover his seemingly weeks-long adventure left him away for only an hour. He awakes the next day with plans to return, but finds that the tollbooth is no longer there. Instead, a note reads “For milo, who now knows the way.”

APA Citation

Juster, N. (1961). The Phantom Tollbooth. New York, NY: Random House.

Impressions

Juster’s earliest published book, The Phantom Tollbooth is riddled with puns and visual descriptions of an imagined world. Idioms are literally spelled out, such as The Island of Conclusions, where Milo “jumps,” or Subtraction Stew, which, when consumed, makes the eater hungrier. King Azaz (A-Z-A-Z) the Unabridged, a fan of letters, has a pun for a name as well as his brother, the Mathemagician, who loves numbers. Faintly Macabre (the Not-So-Wicked Which), Chroma (the color conductor), Dr. Kakofonous (a scientist who creates unpleasant noises), the Dodecahedron (a citizen of Digitopolis with 12 faces), The Spelling Bee (a bee that spells), the Whether Man (who determines whether or not there will be weather), and, in fact, every character has a pun for a name -- except for Milo.

In addition to being a book full of wordplay, The Phantom Tollbooth shows readers the wonderful world around them, that adventures can happen anywhere, and no one has enough time. It’s doubtful that younger readers would grasp the immense wordplay or the allegory of wisdom achievement; however, the book maintains a whimsy and depth that appeals to both adults and children.

Professional Review

The best journeys can be those you don't know you need to take. The Phantom Tollbooth, one of those rare children's novels that both delights the adult reader and returns them to a child's perspective, begins in a fug of stasis and ennui. Milo is a bored and boring little boy, baffled by school and disengaged from the world - "there's nothing for me to do, nowhere I'd care to go, and hardly anything worth seeing" – until the day he finds a strange package in his room containing a flatpack tollbooth and an incomprehensible map. He duly assembles the tollbooth, gets into the electric car he's ignored for months, and sets off in desultory fashion for Dictionopolis – "I might as well go there as anywhere."

What he finds is a fantastical land where the abstract concepts that seem so irrelevant at school are made both concrete and surreal: words are bought and sold in the marketplace, and numbers mined out of rocks. Conclusions is an island that's easy to jump to but hard to escape, eating subtraction stew just makes you hungrier, and to reach the Kingdom of Wisdom you must scale the Mountains of Ignorance. Milo's quest is to reconcile the rulers of Dictionopolis and Digitopolis, who are warring over the importance of words versus numbers, and rescue the exiled princesses Rhyme and Reason: his journey, of course, is the road to enlightenment.

He is accompanied on the way by Tock, an earnest watchdog who helps him not to squander our most precious resource, time, and the Humbug, a pompous giant insect who provides light relief and an example of the dangers of lazy thinking. Their journey is punctuated by meetings with other extraordinary characters, such as the floating Alex Bings, who was born in the air and is growing down: he scoffs at the human system of growing upwards and not knowing where you'll stop until you get there ("Why, when you're 15 things won't look at all the way they did when you were 10, and at 20 everything will change again"). Or meet the Soundkeeper, who soliloquises on the many different kinds of silence:

"Have you ever heard the wonderful silence just before the dawn? Or the quiet and calm just as a storm ends? Or perhaps you know the silence when you haven't the answer to a question you've been asked, or the hush of a country road at night, or the expectant pause in a roomful of people when someone is just about to speak, or, most beautiful of all, the moment after the door closes and you're all alone in the whole house? Each one is different, you know, and all very beautiful, if you listen carefully."

It's typical of Juster's insistence on considering things from all angles that he follows this beautiful and stirring speech with Milo's wry thought: "For someone who loves silence, she certainly talks a great deal."

And then there's Chroma, who conducts the colours of the sunset; the Dynne, who loves noise; the Terrible Trivium - literally a "monster of habit" - who chillingly promises that "if you only do the easy and useless jobs, you'll never have to worry about the important ones which are so difficult," along with scores of others, all remarkable, witty and surprising.

Published in 1961, The Phantom Tollbooth is the closest thing we have to a modern Alice in Wonderland; like Carroll's classic, it preaches reason through oddity, exalting rationality while letting the imagination run riot. Both books are full of obsessives ("everybody is so terribly sensitive about the things they know best," sighs Milo), and ought to go over children's heads, but don't. Tollbooth was not expected to be a hit: "Everyone said this is not a children's book, the vocabulary is much too difficult, the wordplay and the punning they will never understand," Juster later remarked. In fact, the genius of his book is that at the end of the journey, the child reader is left like Milo - knowing that there's more to learn, and that they want to learn it.

Neither book talks down to children because both bubbled up from their author without commission or design. Juster wrote the book when he was "trying to avoid doing something else", and found himself thinking back about his relationship with learning as a child (at 10, like Milo, he "spent a large amount of time being uninterested"). The illustrations were similarly a happy accident: Jules Feiffer, who shared an apartment with Juster, came to investigate what all the pacing was about, and ended up contributing his strange, dark, "itchy-scratchy" drawings (as Maurice Sendak described them). Like the words, they are unlikely, but perfectly apt: funny, footloose and scary by turns.

There's one big difference between Carroll and Juster. The more you think about Alice in Wonderland, the more morbid and perverse it becomes. The Phantom Tollbooth's message is bracing but benign: it calls on us to rise to the challenge of the world by paying proper attention to its wonder and difficulty. Boredom and depression are far from merely childish demons, not least because an adult has to battle them for so much longer. When Milo thinks at the book's beginning that "it seemed a great wonder that the world, which was so large, could sometimes feel so small and empty", it must strike a chord with every reader, young or old.

"When a housefly flaps his wings, a breeze goes round the world," says Reason at the end of the book, in a neat riff on community, complexity and the butterfly effect. "Whenever you learn something new, the whole world becomes that much richer." Milo has to leave home to discover how fascinating it was all along.

Jordan, J. (2013, July 17). Summer voyages: The phantom tollbooth by Norton Juster [review of book The Phantom Tollbooth by N. Juster]. The Guardian.

Library Uses

The Phantom Tollbooth would be best used as part of a display showcasing adventure-fantasy books such as The Chronicles of Narnia, Wizard of Oz, and Alice in Wonderland. Alternatively, librarian-teachers could use the book to teach wordplay, puns, and idioms.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 7: The Fault in Our Stars

Book Summary

Likely John Green’s (@fishingboatproceeds) most famous novel, The Fault in Our Stars details a short time in 16-year-old Hazel’s life as she struggles with thyroid/lung cancer and falls in love with Augustus Waters.

When the two meet at a cancer support group meeting, they are immediately inseparable. After the meeting, Augustus -- an amputee due to his previous cancer, now in remission -- drives Hazel to his house to watch a movie. On the way, Augustus places a cigarette in his mouth and Hazel is disgusted; Augustus explains that he never lights them, but they serve as a metaphor: he puts the thing that can kill him right in his mouth, but never gives it the power to do so.

They each recommend their favorite books to one another: for Augustus, Hazel recommends An Imperial Affliction; for Hazel, Augustus recommends The Price of Dawn. When Augustus finishes his book, he is angry to learn that it ends without a conclusion, representing the main character’s -- Anna, a teenager like Hazel or Augustus -- death due to cancer.

Later, Augustus tells Hazel he has been communicating with An Imperial Affliction’s author, Peter Van Houten, and that he wishes for them to meet to answer their questions. At a picnic, Augustus gives Hazel tickets to fly to Amsterdam to meet him.

Before their departure, Hazel and her mother pick up Augustus and find him arguing with his mother over something he tells Hazel he will explain later.

On their first night abroad, Augustus tells Hazel he loves her over dinner and champagne. The next day, the two meet Van Houten who turns out to be an awful drunk -- the meeting was arranged by his assistant in an attempt to help him out of his alcoholism. He insults Hazel and Augustus and the two leave, upset at what has happened.

Augustus reveals that his cancer is back, and his health is rapidly declining -- the source of the earlier argument with his mother. When they return to Indianapolis, Augustus ends up in the ICU, incredibly sick and dying. As such, he invites Hazel and Isaac, the couple’s friend who has become blind due to his own cancer, to his “pre-funeral” to give truthful eulogies. Augustus dies soon afterwards.

Upon hearing of Augustus’s death, Van Houten attends the funeral to apologize to Hazel.

At the end of the novel, Hazel goes on a picnic with her mother and father. She learns that Augustus was writing a sequel to An Imperial Affliction, in which he writes that pain is inevitable but as humans we are able to choose who will will let hurt us. He explains he is happy with his choice and hopes she is also. The book ends with Hazel stating, “I do.”

APA Citation

Green, J. (2012). The fault in our stars. East Rutherford, NJ: Dutton Books.

Impressions

The Fault in Our Stars is one of the saddest books I’ve ever read. The novel showcases a multi-layer depth as the story, characters, and themes are revealed to readers through the importance of perspective, setting, and writing style.

Green stated in a 2012 interview with Goodreads that this novel is his attempt to humanize a far too often dehumanized part of society: the ill. After working several years with cancer patients, Green was inspired to write The Fault in Our Stars after one of his friends, a 16-year-old named Esther Earl, died of thyroid cancer -- and Green reflected on her short, but full, life.

In spite of the inevitable problem(s) faced in this book, Hazel Grace Lancaster is resilient, funny, thoughtful, and embraces the full spectrum of her emotions -- letting herself fall in love with Augustus Waters even though she knows her fate, and he knows his. She doesn’t let her illness get in the way of her life.

Through Green’s writing, older readers can see a younger version of themselves, and younger readers can immediately relate to Hazel’s witty tongue, her smart ideas, and reflective personality.

Interestingly, Green sets almost every scene indoors, forcing the reader to feel trapped and limited as Hazel, Isaac, and Augustus do because of their illnesses. As such, outdoor scenes become especially memorable -- Augustus’s picnic and Hazel’s picnic with her parents, for example, are outdoors.

In addition to being one of the saddest, this book is also one of the newest I’ve read this semester, having had a film adaptation released just one year ago -- three years after the novel’s publication.  Obviously, this novel has impacted many, just as cancer impacts nearly all of us: knowing someone with the disease, remembering someone who was lost from the disease, or having the disease yourself. The Fault in Our Stars does an exceptional job of giving a voice to the voiceless, and proving life’s worth despite the circumstances.

Professional Review

In his Pulitzer Prize–winning book The Emperor of All Maladies: A Biography of Cancer, Siddhartha Mukherjee writes that as recently as the 1950s, cancer was so feared and taboo that the New York Times refused to print the word in a support-group advertisement. It was the second-leading cause of death in the United States then — just as it is now — but it was as mysterious to most people as mortality itself. There is something monstrous about a disease that kills by wanting to live; cancer's goal is to grow and prosper, with absolutely no regard for its host. It makes sense that people couldn't speak about it — it's not easy to commiserate about a nightmare.

And yet, human instinct tells us to band together to fight our enemies, even on the cellular level. Gradually, with scientific breakthroughs and education, cancer became less of a mum word and more of a buzzword. Hollywood jumped on the drama surrounding the disease, and soon films like Terms of Endearment and Beaches were keeping tissue companies in business. Novels and magazine articles highlighted survivor stories; television started adding characters afflicted with illness. Even Sex and the City's carousing Samantha had her share of chemo.

In recent years, the trend has gone one step beyond talking about cancer — the goal now, at least for pop culture, is to find the humor in it. Fortunately, John Green is the kind of writer to deliver it.

Green writes books for young adults, but his voice is so compulsively readable that it defies categorization. He writes for youth, rather than to them, and the difference is palpable. He doesn't dumb anything down. His language is complex, his syntax adult. He freely references Kierkegaard and William Carlos Williams alongside bloody video games and action movies. Add to that a raw and real glimpse at childhood illness, and his latest, The Fault in Our Stars, may be his best book yet.

The real tragedy of cancer may be that it affects people of all ages, and children suffering from the disease are often hit hardest. Robbed of any semblance of a normal life, "cancer kids," as Green's narrator, Hazel Grace Lancaster, calls them, mark their time in days and weeks.

Hazel, 16, has been battling thyroid cancer since age 13, and only through the use of an experimental drug is she still alive. She carries an oxygen tank with her everywhere, and hasn't attended traditional school since her diagnosis. Depressed and lonely, she tries a support group, where she meets the handsome — and deceptively sick — Augustus Waters, a 17-year-old dreamboat who quickly proceeds to turn her life into an adventure. Green graciously avoids the typical will-they-or-won't-they of most teen reads, as cancer victims don't have the luxury of time to dawdle with their affections. Instead, Augustus and Hazel become fast friends.

Green's novel is elegantly plotted, and as sad in places as one might expect a book about adolescent cancer to be. But it's also brimming with joy. Hazel and Augustus have a zeal for living and for each other that, cancer or not, is rare, and it's a delight to see their plans unfold and relationship flourish even as they both face death.

Green has a powerful online following: He is a YouTube video star with an army of fans he calls the "nerdfighters," a group mobilized "to fight to increase awesome and decrease suck." His draw is so magnetic that just by asking his devotees to donate money, he raised over $100,000 for charity. When he offered signed copies of Fault in a pre-sale last year, the novel leapt to the top of Amazon's list of best-selling books in a single day, and it has remained in the top 20 since.

The Fault in Our Stars proves that the hype surrounding Green is not overblown. He tells his story with such gumption and tenderness that he almost adds a new genre to cancer-lit: romantic teen angst jumbled with big existential questions. Green shoves adolescent-crush jitters and musings about the afterlife into the same story, and yet it all makes sense. As Hazel says to Augustus, "Some infinities are bigger than other infinities ... There are days, many of them, when I resent the size of my unbound set. But Gus, my love, I cannot tell you how thankful I am for our little infinity."

You will be thankful, too, for the little infinity you spend inside this book.

Syme, R. (2012, January 17). ‘The fault in our stars:’ Love in a time of cancer [Book review of The fault in our stars]. NPR. Retrieved from http://www.npr.org/2012/01/17/145343351/the-fault-in-our-stars-love-in-a-time-of-cancer.

Library Uses

The Fault in Our Stars is a challenge in finding a library use. How does one find a good use for a book about “cancer kids” dying?

My best idea is to use it as an introduction to literature-to-film studies. Most people have seen (or are at least familiar with) the movie. Several have also read the book. It would be easy to garner interest in a teen book club in which young people could come to watch the movie and discuss the book and compare, contrast, and analyze the two mediums.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 6: The Lion and the Mouse

Book Summary

A wordless, immaculately illustrated picture book, Jerry Pinkney’s The Lion & the Mouse is a retelling of Aesop’s eponymous fable of mercy, forgiveness, and overcoming selfishness for the good of others.

In it, a small mouse wakes up a great lion and, as a result, is trapped by the lion. The mouse begs to be freed, and the lion graciously forgives him.

Later, poachers trap the lion in ropes. Crying out, the mouse hears the lion, and comes to his aid by chewing through the ropes.

The story ends with the lion and the mouse together, in friendship.

APA Citation

Pinkney, J. (2009). The lion & the mouse. New York, NY: Little, Brown and Company.

Impressions

The Lion & the Mouse is one of the most beautifully drawn books I’ve “read” this semester. As it relies only on its pictures to tell the story, Pinkney does a flawless job of bringing the reader in to actually experience such a touching story, all without words.

Typically I struggle with wordless books, but not in this case. I was already familiar with Aesop’s fable and was immediately enthralled with Pinkney’s artwork.

While it’s unlikely the two would have helped one another out as they do in the story, the way Pinkney paints the picture, and the way they communicate only with empathy, makes it seem life-like.

Full disclosure: I cried a LOT when the mouse saved the lion from his death. I’ve always loved this story since I read it, and the truth of mutual dependence it tells, but Pinkney’s version brought the story to a new light for me. In what world would a predatory lion and miniscule mouse be friends? Why would they help one another? It’s one thing for the lion to let the mouse go, knowing he could find a meal elsewhere, but another thing wholly for the mouse to help the lion to show him his gratitude.

At the end of the book, Pinkney writes a note: “As a child I was inspired to see the majestic king of the jungle saved by the determination and hard work of a humble rodent; as an adult I’ve come to appreciate how both animals are equally large at heart: the courageous mouse and the lion who must rise above his beastly nature to set his small prey free.”

Professional Review

The art of Jerry Pinkney’s new picture book is commanding enough to do without the author’s name or even the title on the front cover. A jacket with no words at all? It’s been done before, but not often — probably most notably with Fred Marcellino’s “Puss in Boots” (1990), which won a Caldecott Honor. That cover featured a big cat, too, but here Pinkney gives us a lion’s head with a magnificent mane, filling the entire frame. The Sun King demeanor is somewhat diminished by the uneasy glance the lion is casting stage right, toward the back cover, where a mouse looks up with a question in its eye. Which creature will be the hero of the tale within?

This is Pinkney’s second go at “The Lion and the Mouse,” the first being a brief entry in his “Aesop’s Fables” of almost 20 years ago. But that first pair were only supporting players to Aesop’s text, 200 or so words plus a moral: “Even the strongest can sometimes use the help of the smallest.” The new book has only seven distinct words, all sound effects — an owl, stalking the mouse, “whoooo” and “screeeech”; the mouse, “scratch” and “squeak.” Providing the plot is the “putt-putt-putt” of the jeep bearing humans into the Serengeti landscape (a note says).

And you don’t even need the sounds to see exactly what’s going on. Wordless picture books require great cunning not only to provide a recognizable pantomime but also to lead readers from one scene to the next: how do you know when to turn the page when there are no words to pull you forward? Pinkney’s story begins with a mouse pausing alertly in —what is this? — a big paw print in the sandy ground, one of a set tracking across the title-page spread. We turn the page, dawn is (beautifully) breaking, the mouse is poised, apparently listening. . . . Good thing there is a hole in that fallen tree on the far right, because on the next page the mouse barely dives in when the owl swoops. The mouse moves on, coming to rest on — “Is that a snake?” asked the 4-year-old I was sharing the book with. Pinkney’s sly use of nature’s camouflage causes us to look more closely. Nope: it was a tail, then a furry back, and before you know it the lion has the mouse by its tail, his “GRRR” seeming more puzzled than threatening, the mouse’s squeak an “Oops!”

Winner of five Caldecott Honors, Pinkney has always seemed happier drawing animals than people. Look, in his 2007 retelling, at his studied Little Red Riding Hood next to his lively Wolf. His beasts are not humans in disguise; while both the lion and the mouse have emotions and intelligence in their eyes, they are animal in nature. We don’t know why the lion lets the mouse go free or why the mouse nibbles the lion out of the net planted by the men (poachers? wardens?) from the jeep. But it’s actions in this case that count. That’s the moral of the story.

Sutton, R. (2009, November 5). Grrrr!!! Oops! [Book review of The lion & the mouse]. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2009/11/08/books/review/Sutton-t.html?_r=0.

Library Uses

As the 2010 Caldecott winner, this book could be used in a variety of library settings. In a unit about Aesop’s fables, it could be viewed before reading the traditional text as students make predictions about the story, could be viewed side-by-side to enhance the text, or after learning the story to be used as a guide for students to recite the story. Additionally, it can be used as a study of illustrations for students interested in art, or simply on display with other Caldecott winners to celebrate excellent artwork in children’s literature.

[joslynsbookblog]

In Darkness by Nick Lake - Book Trailer

[joslynsbookblog]

Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe by Benjamin Alire Saenz - Book Trailer

[joslynsbookblog]

Looking for Alaska by John Green - Book Trailer

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 5: Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe

Book Summary

In Benjamin Alire Sáenz’s coming-of-age novel Aristotle and Dante Discover the Secrets of the Universe, two Mexican-American teenage boys meet and their lives are forever changed.

When Aristotle (Ari) -- an angry 15-year-old with no plans for the summer --  goes swimming to escape from his house, a boy named Dante offers to teach him how to swim. Over the summer, the two become inseparable, bonding over literature, identity, family, and the universe.

A few weeks later, Ari catches the flu. While he is sick, he has nightmares, and Dante busies himself sketching Ari. Dante refuses to show him the sketchbook. When Ari recovers, Dante breaks the news that he and his family are moving to Chicago.

Later that same day, the boys are in the road checking on an injured bird when a car speeds around the corner. Ari saves Dante by pushing him out of the way, and gets hit by the car himself.

Ari has both legs and arms in casts while Dante has only minor injuries. Ari reacts with anger towards the incident, becoming upset when Dante cries and when he gives him his sketchbook, and refuses to look at it.

The boys’ families grow closer as does Ari and his father, spending time reading together. A few weeks after the accident, Dante and his family move to Chicago. When he leaves, Dante tells Ari the two things he loves most in the world are swimming and Ari.

When the school year begins, Ari’s father gives him a 1957 Chevy pickup for his 16th birthday. He promises himself that when he get his casts off, he will drive to the desert where he can look at stars. During the year -- he writes in his journal -- Ari learns to drive, lifts weights, runs with his new dog, looks up information about his brother at the library, arguing with girls in his class, trying to see his crush Ileana, reading Dante’s letters, having nightmares and working part-time at The Charcoaler.

In the summer, Dante returns from Chicago and the two boys continue their friendship, driving out to the desert, smoking, and kissing.

A few weeks later, Ari’s aunt Ophelia has a fatal stroke and they drive out to Tucson for the funeral. None of the extended family attends her funeral because of her sexual orientation, having lived with a woman for a long time. After the funeral, Ari’s mother tells him the truth about his brother, that he is in prison for life for killing a prostitute when he was 15-years-old. The prostitute was a transgender woman.

When Ari and his family are home, Dante’s father tells him that he is in the hospital after being attacked by several young men for kissing a boy he works with, Daniel. During the attack, Daniel abandons Dante. Ari learns who attacked Dante and confronts one of them, starting a fight with Julian at his work.

Later, Ari’s father talks with him about what he witnessed during the Vietnam war, a topic which he never before discussed. After their discussion, Ari’s parents tell him that Dante is in love with him and they believe he feels the same way.

Ari discovers his parents are right, and later goes with Dante to the desert, where he kisses him.

APA Citation

Sáenz, B.A. (2012). Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe. New York, NY: Simon & Schuster.

Impressions

Aristotle and Dante caught my attention right away with its title. I had no idea the story would be so deep, diverse, and touching.

Through his simple exploration of sexuality, Sáenz brings young readers’ attentions to how simple love, in all its forms, should be. Sáenz also delves into identity and what it means to be Mexican-American: Dante rebukes his identity and Ari seems apathetic, revealing conflicting feelings between the boys, and the culture at large, of what it means to be hispanic living in America.

We learn about more than just identity, sexuality, and growing up; family, secrets, literature, poetry, romance, hate crimes, and more are explored in this novel. Additionally, readers get a glimpse of the past as the book is set in the late 80’s, with descriptions of music, fashions, culture, and lack of instant communication -- showing what life was like in 1987.

In what appears to be a typical coming-of-age novel in the beginning, Sáenz weaves a story so intricate it feels as though the reader themselves is also discovering the secrets of the universe with Ari and Dante.

Professional Review

Fifteen-year-old Aristotle (Ari) has always felt lonely and distant from people until he meets Dante, a boy from another school who teaches him how to swim. As trust grows between the boys and they become friends (a first for Ari), Ari’s world opens up while they discuss life, art, literature, and their Mexican-American roots. Additionally, the influence of Dante’s warm, open family (they even have a “no secrets” rule) is shaping Ari’s relationship with his parents, particularly in regard to a family secret; Ari has an older brother in prison, who no one ever mentions. In a poetic coming-of-age story written in concise first-person narrative, Sáenz (Sammy and Juliana in Hollywood) crystallizes significant turning points in the boys’ relationship, especially as Ari comes to understand that Dante’s feelings for him extend beyond friendship. The story swells to a dramatic climax as Ari’s loyalties are tested, and he confronts his most deeply buried fears and desires. It’s a tender, honest exploration of identity and sexuality, and a passionate reminder that love—whether romantic or familial—should be open, free, and without shame. Ages 12–up.

Publisher’s Weekly. (2011). Aristotle and Dante Discover the secrets of the universe [Book review of Aristotle and Dante discover the secrets of the universe].

Library Uses

As this book has been recognized as a Pura Belpre winner, an appropriate library use of this book would be as a teen book club during National Hispanic Heritage Month, opening up a dialogue of Hispanic identity with a book that will leave an impact on young adult readers -- and will help open minds, too.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 4: The Graveyard Book

Book Summary

Neil Gaiman’s (@neil-gaiman) The Graveyard Book opens with a serial killer named Jack murdering the members of a family, except a baby boy, who has inadvertently escaped to a nearby graveyard. Once there, his dead mother begs the graveyard’s occupants to care for her son. Mr. and Mrs. Owens, an older ghost couple with no children of their own, become the boy’s foster parents, naming him Nobody “Bod” Owens.

Silas, the graveyard’s caretaker and probable vampire, becomes responsible to provide for Bod due to his unique ability to leave and return to the graveyard. Throughout the book, Bod has several adventures at the graveyard and beyond. When he is a child, he meets a girl named Scarlett Perkins -- through whom he meets a creature called Sleer. When Scarlett and Bod return, she and her family move to Scotland. Other adventures include being captured by ghouls and being rescued by his werewolf tutor Miss Lupescu, helping the ghost of the witch Elizabeth Hempstock find a gravestone, and attending school with other children -- which, not surprisingly, does not go well for Bod.

As he grows up, Bod learns different supernatural abilities like fading, haunting, and dream walking. His foster parents, his ghost teacher Mr. Pennyworth, and Silas see that Bod learns all he needs to know. Eventually, it is revealed that Jack, the serial killer, is still hunting Bod -- completing an assignment for his secret society, Jacks of All Trades.

When Bod is 14, Scarlett moves back from Scotland and the two become friends once more. Scarlett introduces Bod to Mr. Jay Frost, a historian living in the house Bod once lived in. When Bod visits, Mr. Frost reveals himself as the killer Jack, whose full name is Jack Frost. Bod is chased by Jack and four more Jacks of All Trades members, but he is able to escape with Scarlett to the graveyard where he destroys each Jack separately, except for Jack Frost. Scarlett is trapped by Jack with the Sleer, but Jack is tricked by Bod into calling himself Sleer’s master, embracing him and disappearing into the wall. Along with other graveyard dwellers, Bod is successful in destroying the Jacks of All Trades society. Scarlett, appalled by Bod’s actions, has her memories taken away and moves back to Glasgow with her mother.

When Bod is 15, he begins losing his ability to live freely in the graveyard and struggles to see ghosts. The book concludes with Bod saying his goodbyes to his family and friends, and leaving the graveyard to begin a new life.

APA Citation

Gaiman, N. (2008). The graveyard book. New York, NY: HarperCollins.

Impressions

The Graveyard Book is the most unique book I’ve read this semester. With allusions and references to Rudyard Kipling’s The Jungle Book, Gaiman’s story answers the question of what would it be like for a human to be raised by a different kind -- in this case, the dead. A horror bildungsroman, The Graveyard Book pulls on different genres to create its unique story: adventure, humor, fantasy, and an exploration of what it means to be human.

With previously published excerpts, The Graveyard Book functions as a novelette through its collection of 8 short stories, with Bod aging about two years between each chapter. Highgate Cemetery in north London, England, is acknowledged as the inspiration setting for the novel.

What Gaiman does so well in his work is throw together an old story with a new idea -- The Jungle Book meets ghosts, or like in Stardust, where fairy tale meets modern humor -- crafting a one-0f-a-kind tale to entertain readers of all kinds.

In addition to becoming a best-seller, The Graveyard Book has won the Newbery Medal, the Hugo Award for Best Novel, the Locus Award for Best Young Adult Novel, and the Carnegie Medal.

Professional Review

With best-selling books for adults and children — including “Coraline,” a brand-new animated movie — Neil Gaiman has carved out a passionate following in the world of fairy tale and fantasy. Now his latest novel for children, “The Graveyard Book,” has won a top literary honor as well: this year’s Newbery Medal for the most distinguished contribution to children’s literature. After the prize was announced last month, a debate ensued among teachers, librarians and critics about whether the selection of a popular author was a departure for the Newbery, one of the most prestigious prizes in children’s books — and, if so, whether it was a welcome one. Gaiman himself seemed surprised by the honor. “There are books that are best sellers and books that are winners,” he said in an interview with The New York Times.

But none of this will matter to readers — for “The Graveyard Book,” by turns exciting and witty, sinister and tender, shows Gaiman at the top of his form.

The story opens with a pretty terrifying situation: a man has slaughtered a family in the middle of the night, all save a toddler who escapes unnoticed, walking out the front door and away from the mayhem. (Parents may worry about the violence, but they shouldn’t. The action isn’t described, and the fourth-grade class I read the book to had no problem whatsoever.)

Up the hill trots the toddler, to a graveyard full of ghosts who take him in. The tone shifts elegantly from horror to suspense to domesticity, and by the end of the first chapter Gaiman has established the graveyard as the story’s center. Within its reassuringly locked gates, the boy finds a safe and cozy place to grow up. (Gaiman has said that “The Jungle Book” was one of his influences.)

Among the dead are teachers, workers, wealthy prigs, romantics, pragmatists and even a few children — a village ready to raise a living child. And they do, ably led by Silas, an enigmatic character who is not really one of them, being not quite dead and not quite living. In this moonlit place, the boy — who is given the name Nobody Owens, or Bod for short — has adventures, makes friends (not all of them dead), and begins to learn about his past and consider his future. Along the way, he encounters hideous ghouls, a witch, middle school bullies and an otherworldly fraternal order that holds the secret to his family’s murder. When he is 12 things change, and the novel’s momentum and tension pick up as he learns why he’s been in the graveyard all this time and what he needs to do to leave.

While “The Graveyard Book” will entertain people of all ages, it’s especially a tale for children. Gaiman’s remarkable cemetery is a place that children more than anyone would want to visit. They would certainly want to look for Silas in his chapel, maybe climb down (if they were as brave as Bod) to the oldest burial chamber, or (if they were as reckless) search for the ghoul gate. Children will appreciate Bod’s occasional mistakes and bad manners, and relish his good acts and eventual great ones. The story’s language and humor are sophisticated, but Gaiman respects his readers and trusts them to understand.

I read the last of “The Graveyard Book” to my class on a gloomy day. For close to an hour there were the sounds of only rain and story. In this novel of wonder, Neil Gaiman follows in the footsteps of long-ago storytellers, weaving a tale of unforgettable ­enchantment.

Edinger, M. (2009, Feb 15). Raised by ghosts [Review of the book The graveyard book]. The New York Times. Retrieved from http://www.nytimes.com/2009/02/15/books/review/Edinger-t.html?_r=0&pagewanted=print.

Library Uses

Just as the reviewer writes, the ideal use of this book would be best paired with gloom and spookiness -- the perfect book for Halloween. A week or two before Halloween, students could enjoy a read-aloud time for about an hour a day, setting the scene with dimmed lights, lit candles, and creepy sound effects. Alternatively, librarians could use this book for a teen book club, having the Halloween party-themed book club to analyze and discuss The Graveyard Book.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 3: Owl Moon

Book Summary

In Owl Moon, Jane Yolen crafts a heart-warming story of a girl’s first time “owling” with her father. John Schoenherr illustrates the short book, bringing life to Yolen’s words -- and earning a Caldecott Medal in 1988.

Yolen’s story details a young daughter traveling across the country side during a winter night in search of an owl. Eventually, the pair spots a great horned owl, as well as several other woodland creatures such as deer, squirrels, and more.

APA Citation

Yolen, J. (1987). Owl moon. New York, NY: Philomel Books.

Impressions

Owl Moon included some of my favorite illustrations of all the assigned books this semester. In Owl Moon, the illustrations function as a part of the story rather than simply extras to tell the whole story. Instead, the illustrations work together with the words to create a mood of quiet retrospection and a tone of joy and nostalgia -- in fact, Yolen has stated on her website that Owl Moon is a story about her daughter, Heidi, and her husband from when Heidi was young.

Schoenherr’s use of white space on the page (as snow, as light, etc.) seamlessly combines the action in words on the page with the scenes depicted in images. His illustrations are also soft without harsh lines, keeping images only semi-defined, giving the story a dream-like feel. In reality, the author is writing the story as she recalls fond memories; thus, the illustrations also work to bring about the same effect. This book seems almost written for adults to look back on their experiences as children with a deep appreciation of the past, with illustrations relying on natural beauty and the story reminding readers of their childhoods.

Professional Review

Interestingly, my daughter has always thought that the little unnamed, bundled-up child in this book was a girl—and my son has always assumed it was a boy. It’s that kind of book: quiet and close, and it feels like what it’s about is you. A child and his or her father go out at night, in the deep winter woods near their farm, to see if they can spot any owls. And, towards the book’s end, they spot one. That’s it—but John Shoenherr’s wintery, realistic illustrations are so exquisitely moonlit and lovely, and the story is so profoundly quiet and reverent, that a deep feeling of peace has always descended over us each of the million times we’ve read it. It’s one of Jane Yolen’s serious stories, which means you can read the beautiful, almost poetic text in your regular voice, which I remember finding tremendously relieving when the kids were very young, and so much else was lilting and frantic. And the children are always moved by the silent heroism of the child, who must remain calm and still if she wants to see an owl—even though it’s cold and dark in the woods, and a bit creepy. “But I never called out. If you go owling you have to be quiet, that’s what Pa always says. I had been waiting to go owling with Pa for a long, long time.” We still quote our favorite all-purpose line about a kind of Zen journey-not-the-destination spirit of acceptance:

“My brothers all said sometimes there’s an owl and sometimes there isn’t.”

So true.

Newman, C. (2012). Owl moon, by Jane Yolen [Review of Owl moon]. Retrieved from http://www.thechildrensbookreview.com/weblog/2014/01/owl-moon-by-jane-yolen-book-review.html

Library Uses

Owl Moon would be a perfect book for a multi-part lesson. After reading and discussing the book, students could participate in a “field trip” to go owling themselves -- either by creating a life-size scene in the library or actually going outside to find and describe different types of wildlife. In the created scene, images of different types of owls could be hidden throughout an enclosed space, decorated to appear as though students were walking through the cold woods (using butcher paper to make trees, snow hills, etc.). Then students, working in small groups, could use binoculars, a sketch pad, digital camera, and field notes journal to document what they see. Afterwards, students could use their information to research, using library books and online resources, the types of owls they have seen and report back to the lesson leader/group what they’ve found. To do the owling outside would look a little different, with students probably finding more squirrels and wild birds than owls.

[joslynsbookblog]

Module 2: In the Night Kitchen

Book Summary

In the Night Kitchen, written and illustrated by Maurice Sendak, was published in 1970 and was labeled “controversial” immediately after its release. In it, we follow a boy named Mickey’s dream where he assists three large bakers as they prepare a cake for the morning. 

The book begins when Mickey is disturbed by a noise in his sleep and then floats to the “Night Kitchen” while his clothes fall off -- the source of most of the controversy surrounding the book. He falls into the batter for the morning cake just as it will be placed in the oven for baking. Mickey shouts that he is not the milk for the batter and escapes from the pan, covered in the batter from the neck down.

Mickey creates an airplane out of dough and uses a measuring cup as a hat to gather milk from a huge bottle, swimming in the milk as he does so, successfully destroying his batter outfit. He pours the milk into the cake batter as the bakers finish the cake. 

When morning comes, Mickey greets the sun as though he were a rooster and returns to his bed, where everything is completely normal.

APA Citation

Sendak, M. (1970). The night kitchen. New York, NY: Harper & Row.

Impressions

Where the Wild Things Are was one of my favorite books growing up, so when I saw In the Night Kitchen as an option for the course, I knew right away I would read it and love it. The artwork differs greatly from Wild Things, as it appears much smoother and uses more reds and blues. Wild Things has a scratchier, rougher appearance with dark colors, browns, blacks, grays, etc. Both books in their use of color and art style capture the feeling of dreams. 

In nearly every publication about the book, both the controversy of child nudity and the references to psychological development are mentioned. According to Sendak, In the Night Kitchen is the toddler stage of psychological development, where children begin to become self-aware (”I’m not the milk and the milk’s not me”), language use, and imagination (as in Mickey’s dream). In Freudian psychoanalysis -- which focuses heavily on dreams -- the toddler years also coincide with the “phallic stage” of development, when children become aware of their sexual anatomy and find pleasure in masturbation. Some have read In the Night Kitchen and easily recognize its references to the phallic stage, such as flowing milk as a reference to ejaculation or nighttime emissions, allegedly phallic-shaped bottles, and the inclusion of a drawing of the toddler’s penis. Where the Wild Things Are is the pre-school stage, and Outside Over There is the pre-adolescent stage.

I hardly understand the controversy surrounding In the Night Kitchen. The book does depict Mickey’s naked behind and genitals, but the boy is a toddler, maybe 3-4 years old. I do understand that it may not be appropriate for younger readers; however, Night Kitchen is a wonderful story with incredible artwork that should be appreciated and enjoyed by readers, say, 10 and older. 

The book itself seems larger than life, as though the artwork is so surreal it could only take place in a dream. The buildings behind the night kitchen seem to be made of kitchen items: milk cartons, cans of beans, loaves of bread, etc. The batter looks sticky, the milk looks wet, the bread looks warm -- Sendak’s artwork finds a perfect balance between surreal and real, allowing the reader to feel as though they are dreaming right along with Mickey. 

Professional Review

In a highly original dream fantasy a small boy falls through the dark, out of his clothes, and into the bright night kitchen where he is stirred into the cake batter and almost baked, jumps into the bread dough, kneads and shapes it into an airplane, and flies up over the top of the Milky Way to get milk for the bakers. Every detail of the deliciously playful illustrations—three look-alike bakers, the kitchen open to the starry sky, buildings made from cans, jars, eggbeater, and other kitchen utensils—and the chantable, easily remembered text maintain their dreamlike quality throughout. Pure delight for young children.

Booklist (1971, Jan 15). In the night kitchen. [Book review of In the night kitchen]. Retrieved from http://www.booklistonline.com/ProductInfo.aspx?pid=3969847&AspxAutoDetectCookieSupport=1

Library Uses

Depending on the audience age, a few different library uses could be suggested. For younger readers, an interactive storytime with life-size illustrations printed could be used, allowing each student to read a page or two of the story. Of course, the lesson would conclude with a sampling of morning cake. For older readers, such as high school or college-aged, a psychoanalytic reading/discussion could occur with an interdisciplinary study of Freud, also comparing Where the Wild Things Are to In the Night Kitchen.