Devon Trevarrow Flaherty's Blog, page 55

[image error]In my daughter’s sixth grade class for the recent semester, the kids had to read one of four selections that their teacher presented. My daughter did the first read and turned in the assignment, then decided to read the other three before the semester was through. She has always said this teacher had a great book collection based on her great preferences, and there was only this semester left to enjoy it.

When I picked up When You Reach Me, I didn’t remember what, if anything, my daughter had shared about it. I knew I was at Barnes & Noble and I knew that When You Reach Me was on my to-be-read and I knew that I intended to grab a book on my way to somewhere. The title and the cover had never caught my attention before, but I did notice two things at this point: first, the book was on a table in the center of the store and second, it had a Newbery Medal on the front. Not that I fall for all center-table or award-winning books, but things were boding well for a book that seemed like background noise to me up until now.

I liked it right away. I don’t know what I expected, but it wasn’t quite this. Airy and conversational, neat and mysterious, this book hooked me from the first page and it kept me going all the way through. I don’t want to say too much about it; some of my enjoyment came from discovering the plot and even genre as I read. So I would recommend that you don’t do too much research (or even read the back of the cover) before you read it. That way, it’ll keep you guessing.

On the other hand, perhaps the title and cover could be a bit more attention-grabbing? Not that they’re not cute… it’s just that where I kept seeing Hoot, I kept forgetting When You Reach Me.

[image error]Anyhoo, I really did like this book a lot. It was a fairly short read, and there were moments when I wasn’t sure how well I actually knew the main character, but overall I just wanted to keep reading. And when it all came together, it really all came together. The main character is not perfect, and neither is anyone around her, but you root for these folks, and the main character has a way of taking her time but eventually uncovering the light in everyone around her. (Except the real bad guy—she just walks away from him.) And you don’t forget this story. It lingers.

I love the nostalgia of the 1970s. I love watching people really live in New York City. And I love all the quirk—from “The $20,000 Pyramid” to striped tights to banks full of two-dollar bills.

My daughter did not like that it didn’t fit neatly into a genre box. According to publishers, that might bother some people, but it certainly doesn’t bother me. In fact, I enjoy (and write) what I call genre-benders.

Obviously, I would recommend it. Middle grades would be the perfect time to read it. And despite its introducing (innocent and brief) kissing, it would make a great school read.

_______________

I read When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead. It was published in 2009 by Yearling.

[image error]There won’t be a lot to say here, as most of this has been said elsewhere. Plus, it’s pretty straight-forward. Eric Carle is a writer and illustrator of children’s books, made famous by his simple, repetitive words and his pioneering work in collage illustration. He takes all his books from concept to final form, himself. The pictures couldn’t be brighter or more appealing to small children, with their primary colors and their varied visual textures.

[image error]You are most likely familiar with Carle’s work (whether from your own children or from that tissue paper art project you brought home in the third grade). Some of his most famous picture books are The Very Hungry Caterpillar and Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? But there are many others—at least 70—including board books, Early Readers, and picture books. The Eric Carle Library includes 8 board books and is a great purchase for a baby shower. There is no boxed set for the picture books, but they run around $5 for the soft cover versions.

On one hand, Carle’s books don’t jump out to me from the shelf, as they lack wit. But that’s totally not the point. Simple, bright illustrations paired with an interesting story and repetitive words? That’s exactly what makes a great book for your young reader, and these are absolute classics, especially The Very Hungry Caterpillar. They have also won many awards. As a bonus, many of them have animal themes.

[image error]To check out his website, which is fun and interactive and includes tons of information on the artist and his craft and a list of his works, click HERE.

__________

I read The Very Hungry Caterpillar, by Eric Carle and published first in 1969. I have also read Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, The Grouchy Ladybug, The Very Busy Spider, The Lamb and the Butterfly, and Polar Bear, Polar Bear, What Do You See? The original manuscript, in French, was published in 1943.

Whew! Do I have a lot to say about this Netflix original series. (Just ask my husband, who really couldn’t care less, bless his heart.) A lot of people have a lot to say about this series. Because, let’s face it, Anne of Green Gables has been a VERY popular book(s) for something like a century, and there are many, many fans who were waiting with bated breath for the new series’ release.[image error]

“They” just totally picked the wrong writer (and maybe directors) to do it. Totally.

The bottom line is this: the vision for this series is all wrong, and the writer just doesn’t get Anne. And I feel like I can say this with confidence. I have been reading Anne almost every year since I was fifteen. I have read some of the history, as well as everything else that is available by Montgomery. I’m a writer. I am one of those people who will charter a plane to P.E.I one day to see the place for myself. And with all those many, many hours under my belt, with Anne, I am going to repeat it: the writer just doesn’t get Anne. (Please note that any of the stills that I have seen for this series, including the cover images, are very misleading. The actual footage is mostly dark, gray, and bleak.)

The whole truth is that there are things I like about this series, as an original story. The cinematography is gripping and the characters engaging.

From the first moments with the intro, I thought, Maybe this will be like an Alice in Wonderland-esque Anne. Which, actually, might have been interesting. What I didn’t suspect was hour after agonizing hour of bleak psychoanalysis. That first (long, slow) episode was rife with PTSD. I wanted to know where Avonlea was. Sure, Avonlea has always had its faults (as do all the characters), but there were always wonderful things about them, too. Yeah, Anne is stubborn and vain, flighty and clumsy, but she is not an angry depressive who runs away from her problems. I get that many of the issues—like feminism and death and an abusive childhood and rejection—were always in the text, but here we see it turned into a macabre pantomime, mocking Montgomery’s brilliant work in a hopeful look at the complexities of life.

The second episode was definitely the worst, and where the writer goes most afield from the original story. My mind kept yelling out, Why did you change the story? In my opinion, when you have a story that has endured and been so lauded and beloved, you don’t change it for an adaptation beyond what has to be done to change mediums. Marilla kicking Anne out of the house, Matthew jumping on a horse and riding it to exhaustion, Matthew bloodying his head and stumbling into an orphanage to be convinced to clean himself off… it was all so incongruent that it was laughable, if I wasn’t already in mourning for the story.

Anne as being cruel to the hired help? Anne lying about going to school? Even in the little things, the characters and place that we all love were blurred beyond recognition. We know, right? Anne would never do that. And moving violence, sex, and gore to the front was completely unnecessary, anyways. The shades were always there, but they were dealt with with so much deftness, compassion, and wisdom, before. (The writer also doesn’t seem to understand that fans love these books partly because they were written in a different time, in a different voice from what we get on NPR or at the movie theater. We LIKE to be whisked away to someplace different, with a gentler, more refined tone.)

Leave it to modern media to strip the story of its dignity.

Not that the series is all bad. I truly enjoyed seeing the home, the town, the clothing. The actors all basically did a good job, and everyone looks the way that they should. And it was interesting to think about the dark side of Anne and Avonlea… for about fifteen minutes. Because I am not depressed or hopeless or fatalistic. Or, apparently, thoroughly modern.

Honestly, I couldn’t have written a better or more accurate review than what was done at The New Yorker. Please follow the link HERE, if you are already an Anne fan and are considering watching the new series.

If you are a fan, the choice is hard: to watch or not to watch? It is a little bit disturbing, but also interesting. I would say you win, at some level, either way. Do what you choose with confidence. On the other hand, if you are not a big fan, but you like things like Game of Thrones, you might love this show. Just understand that you would not similarly like the beloved Montgomery books.

__________

I watched Anne with an “E,” the 2017 Netflix original series of eight episodes. It was adapted from Anne of Green Gables by L.M. Montgomery, by Moira Walley-Beckett, and directed by eight different directors.

__________

BOOKS in the series, all by L.M. Montgomery

[image error]Anne of Green Gables, 1908 (This is the only book the series is based on)
Anne of Avonlea, 1909
Anne of the Island, 1915
Anne of Windy Poplars, 1936
Anne of Ingleside, 1939
Anne’s House of Dreams, 1917
Rainbow Valley, 1919
Rilla of Ingleside, 1921

OTHER MOVIES:

[image error]The movie starring Megan Follows and released in 1985, is considered a classic. It is beloved by many, including my college best friend and her three sisters. It is a much, much softer rendering of the first couple of books in the series, and I have to say I like it more now that I’ve seen the Netflix series. However, I would not recommend the whole trilogy, as it has the same basic problem as Anne with an “E”: it makes its own story beginning at the second movie, which is not very consistent with the Anne of the books, in many ways.

[image error]I have been trying to review some picture books before my kids (and nephews and niece) get past the age of reading them. So here we are at my son’s favorite (not counting the Peek-a-Who board book when he was a baby). This series remains among his favorite picture books to read, and I will most likely buy him the “It’s a Busload of Pigeon Books” boxed set right as he deems them too “baby.”

I am not terribly acquainted with most of Mo Willems’ books, but I have always had a liking for the simple, colorful-yet-soft, crudely-outlined illustrations. Then again, I am also suspicious of those same simple illustrations I admire. I mean, anybody can do that, right?

Of course, we know that not everyone can or will do art that at first glance (or even close inspection) appears simple. It takes intuition and skill to pull off a great book, even if it doesn’t take a realist painter. The pigeon books—and much other of Willem’s works—are ubiquitous for a few reasons, one of them being the calming, easy-going pictures.

[image error]Another reason is the stories, which I can happily say are by the self-same person who does the illustrating. Sure, there are plenty of picture books where the author-illustrator team worked out, even if it was put together by publishers, but I really enjoy a holistic product that went from conception to fruition largely in one artist’s mind and talents. The stories of Willem’s that I have read so far share the same deceptively simple feel, where you think, “I could have written this,” and yet, are original and very flowing. With child-appropriate words and concepts, we are whisked off into every-day imaginings, and sometimes forget the language because it is so careful.

But we don’t forget the dialogue. Because the pigeon often screams. Or pouts. Or whines. He is such a silly and moody pigeon. Speaking in dialogue bubbles, sometimes right at us, we get to know this pigeon and his cajoling ways. (Don’t be deceived by this childishness, though. The pigeon and Willem’s other characters all have a decidedly adult quality about them.)

Here are the pigeon books, and I don’t know that they have any particular order to them:

Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!
The Pigeon Finds a Hot Dog!
Don’t Let the Pigeon Stay Up Late!
The Pigeon Wants a Puppy!
The Duckling Gets a Cookie?!
The Pigeon Needs a Bath!
Don’t Let the Pigeon Finish This Activity Book!

Mo Willems, I am told, may be most well-known for his Early Reader Elephant & Piggie books, although I see the pigeon everywhere. In the Elephant & Piggie series, Willems was writing children’s book about emotions, friendship, and even the differences and unity between species, genders, races, or ethnicities. Since 2007, he has written and illustrated around 50 books, and the Elephant & Piggie books—at 25—ended in 2012. Many of Willems’ books have been New York Times best sellers and have made his brand very recognizable.

[image error]Willems strikes me as the real-deal artist, perhaps sometimes too much so, but also introspective about his work and willing to make it for people… children even. I appreciate his adult-like but child-engaging sense of story and humor. And you can check out more about the author and what he is up to HERE, at Mo Willems dot com.

__________

I read Don’t Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! and The Duckling Gets a Cookie?!, by Mo Willems, published by Hyperion Books in 2003 and 2012.

[image error]

I bumped the Miss Peregrine series up on my TBR for two very good reasons. First, Tim Burton was working on the movie. I lurve Tim Burton and I see all the movies he makes. Second, I have a friend who was high school buddies with Ransom Riggs and who recommended that I read the books. He showed me a photo of Riggs standing and grinning next to Burton. Once the intense jealousy faded, I started seeing the books all around me. Since the covers and the idea seemed so intriguing, I thought, How could this series go wrong?

So far, the series is an original trilogy:

Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children
Hollow City
Library of Souls

As well as a companion book, Tales of the Peculiar, and a graphic novel version, Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children: The Graphic Novel, by Riggs and Cassandra Jean. I read all of the above, but have obviously not read the second trilogy, which begins release later this year (2017). I have also seen the Burton movie.

Let’s talk about how this series came to be. Ransom Riggs had a collection of weird, old photos. He decided to make a book containing the photos. A book agent said to him, “No. Why don’t you make a novel containing the photos?” Riggs said, “Sure,” and started connecting with other weird, old photo collectors and coming up with a story. For reals. That’s how this started.

The series centers around Jacob, who thinks he is just a normal dude, who is most definitely living a normal (and slightly depressing) life, whose grandpa used to tell him these extraordinary stories which turned out to be extraordinary lies. When Grandpa dies in a shocking incident, he leaves Jacob clues to point him toward his past and Jacob’s inevitable future. With the help of his psychiatrist, Jacob ends up in Cairnholm, Wales, where Grandpa used to be an orphan, and stumbles upon his adventure and the deep, unexpected truth.

Drama of all sorts ensues. Romance emerges. Family and friends. Bad guys. Weird science. Badder guys. Alien-like and magic-like characters and situations. And lots and lots of action.

I was surprised by this series in many ways. First off, judging from the cover and from its ubiquity, I did not realize that it was YA until I actually started reading. Then it was like, how could you miss it? The writing, plot… everything screams YA. But even more than that, this book’s story is—and this is saying a lot in the modern climate of fantasy YA—fresh and interesting. Sure, we are not surprised by a teenage boy coming of age as he discovers a magical truth, but we are surprised by the originality of the fantasies themselves. I don’t want to spoil too much for you, but the whole idea of kids with odd abilities being hidden in time loops is just enough different, not to mention ymbrnes, wights, and hollowgasts. The series is rich with images and situations, which is part (along with tone) of what probably drew Burton to it.

But beyond the (dark, eerie, even scary) tone and the ideas, I found reading this series to be frustrating. It was just so very YA, and I kept feeling like this writer has too much potential to shove it all into the YA box. Not that YA can’t be great writing, but then it ends up transcending age limits. This did not. And it’s more than that. The writing at the beginning of the first book was much different than what it became later on. For awhile, we actually go deep into Jacob. We live in those moments and see Florida and his life clearly. Then—which always seems to me like a deadline approached and writing and editing got less careful—the writing speeds up, making first-person feel silly and just lost me for the rest of the series. I kept hoping the superior writing and better voice would return, but it never did.

What Riggs does deliver on in the whole series is action. Things are always moving, which may seem like I’m asking for opposites. But he could have packed in all that fascinating action while still keeping his writing tighter and his exploration into the characters and setting deeper. These books are one wild ride, but I found myself wanting to slow down for spurts so that I could linger on what was important. Besides what Jacob gave us at the beginning, I never felt I got to know any characters well enough.

There were also some issues with the mute character. Riggs could have kept her like that and been fine, but she needed to be more active. In fact, I believe he (or his editor) realized the problems, which is why she is “written out” for a long, long time. It feels as contrived as I think it probably was. At any rate, her disappearance remains weird.

And speaking of the supporting characters, Riggs made the rookie mistake of introducing too many characters at once. I’m not saying I’ve never done it, just that it’s a bad idea unless you can come up with some other way for the reader to distinguish between them and remember them. Never, since Russian literature, did I have so much trouble remembering who each of the children were. Digging deeper into the characters, as I mentioned above, may have helped with this. In the end, the bios at the beginning of the second book really helped to ground me when I could not find my way. I was hopelessly lost by the end of the first.

And speaking of the beginning of the book, I have always wondered what it would be like to get into a book (later in a series) without all the preamble. Turns out it’s not the best idea. At least here, it was too sudden. Starting without all the explanation is one thing, but starting without finesse is another. Must keep this in mind. (The books also end similarly abruptly, which makes me think that writing series so that each book is a complete nugget is still, after all this time, the way to go.)

Of course, the photos are a large part of what makes this series special and cool. However, I hated that photos cut up the narrative instead of continuing to bottom of page. (I am a geek when in comes to fonts and margins and all that, but this was just a poor, and unprofessional looking, choice.) Also, the writing and plot were sometimes forced one way or another, in order to fit with the photo or include a new one. There were too many photos worked into the story in order to include them. Perhaps Riggs should have just let the photos exist like an illustration instead of having to explain them. I LOLed (and not in a good way) when the characters came across a photo taped to an outdoor net on a side of a cliff, which just happened to show someone using it so that they knew how to use it. Nuh-uh.

And for the record, my Middle Grades series was titled The Menagerie long before these books were published, let alone read by me. It has absolutely nothing in common with this series, anyhow.

In the end, I would recommend this series, with reservations. I know that high schoolers are going to continue to enjoy this series for years to come, and they should. But I was frustrated continually by the deteriorating writing style and the surfacy characters, as well as by the use of the otherwise cool photos. The action kept me hanging in, as it will for many readers.

[image error]As for the companion, Tales of the Peculiar, I enjoyed it to a point. It makes sense, and I am sure die-hard fans enjoyed it. However, it just didn’t have enough stories for my taste. Not that writing a book of short fiction is easy peasy, because it’s not. In the series, though, the Tales is clearly much longer and thorough. Perhaps he could have sold it as a piece of the Tales. Anyhow, the stories are pretty cool and they contribute to the feeling that this fantasy world is complete (like Tolkein or Rowling). Really, he could stick with this for an entire career.

[image error]The best of the whole thing? The graphic novel. When I came across this, I had an aha! moment, as in this series should all have been done as a graphic novel. Really, the art is beautiful and includes the photos is a cool way, and the whole concept just really works this way. However, there is only the one book. Maybe just read that?

__________

I read Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children, Hollow City, The Library of Souls, Tales of the Peculiar, and Miss Peregrine’s Home for Peculiar Children: The Graphic Novel, by Ransom Riggs. The last book contained the art of Cassandra Jean. They were all published by Quirk Publishing in 2011, 2014, 2015, 2016, and 2013.

__________

MOVIE

[image error]The 2016 movie by Tim Burton was pretty good, actually. I found some of the changes in characters to be irritating, which I am sure many other fans did, as well. (I can see why Burton did it, but sometimes author choices—let along fans—should just be honored.) Otherwise, I thought they compressed the three stories rather nicely and made some really cool actor choices, special effects, moments, and villains. Very YA, even though it has great atmosphere (as all Burton movies do).

[image error]

I’ve been pulling the sleek, simple, and colorful copies of the Hoot series by Carl Hiaasen off the shelves in the youth section of bookstores, for a long while. Something about them—including their presence everywhere–said “good book” to me. Perhaps it was the simple titles: Hoot, Chomp, Flush, Scat, and Skink. Perhaps it was those simple covers that I just mentioned. Or it was when a shiny award—A Newberry Honor–appeared on the cover of Hoot. Anyhow, I was happy when my son picked the series out for his next read-out-loud book. (This was like last summer; I’m still catching up with reviews).

[image error]

After all that, Hoot was a disappointment. So much so, that we don’t feel the need to read the rest of the collection of Florida-based books, even though my son is so drawn to the covers and titles. Like mother, like son.

Why was this book a disappointment, when so many people and teachers love it? It should be noted: many people claim it is well-written, deals with environmental issues, and is lough-out-loud funny. It’s ratings are consistently high. But,

Let me start with this: not one of us laughed out loud once during the reading of this book. We might have snickered here or there, but we just didn’t find it funny. Hiaasen is known for his humor writing, but I would say that Hoot is only very moderately funny. In fact, it’s not even really that satirical. Mildly, maybe. So, we can say that at least this book is not funny to everyone.

Also—and this is as much my fault as anyone’s—the book was not quite age appropriate. Officially YA, bookstores tend to lump middle grades and YA books together, so with their low page count and bubble-gum-colored covers of cute animals, I assumed these were more middle grades. I was wrong. There is swearing, which I had to edit out as I read, and just some older content. It shouldn’t be too surprising, either, when you realize Hiaasen was first an adult book author. In fact, he’s responsible, among other things, for the book Strip Tease, which led to the infamous movie Striptease, starring everybody’s least favorite Saved by the Bell character.

I didn’t find the writing to be that great either, and none of us found the plot to be that interesting. Also, we didn’t feel drawn to the characters or that we ended up getting that close to them. The depth of the novel—found in the environmental issue and in the characters who have sticky home situations (and one even homeless)—was not all what it could have been. All the deep issues ended up seeming nominal and unexplored, which could be because there are too many crammed in.

On the plus side, the book did have the kind of “kapow” ending that I love, where lots of strings weave together to create one giant, exciting scene. But after all the disappointment, I just didn’t really care too much.

I don’t know what else I can say. If you want to trust the majority of reviewers, you could give Hoot and the other Hiaasen books a try. But if you want to trust me, you’ll skip over Hoot and head straight to the other amazing YA books which are out there, which include The Giver, A Wrinkle in Time, Where the Red Fern Grows, Harry Potter… and, well, I don’t have that many other suggestions yet unless you want to get into the classics. (I’ve read a lot of bad to mediocre YA in the past few years). As my daughter ages, however, I should find more and more.

 

__________

I read Hoot, by Carl Hiaasen, from Yearling, 2005.

__________

MOVIE

[image error]The 2006 movie was a flop, but often I don’t mind giving a couple hours, and maybe a few dollars, to a bad movie made from a book I’ve just read. I really enjoy seeing what a director has done with the story and the characters. So, my kids and I snuggled up on pizza night and hit play on Vudu…

It was pretty much as bad as the reviews said. I tend to go with what IMDB and Rotten Tomatoes are saying, and well… the acting (with the exception of two) was pretty bad, and the story only got a little finer. The real issues were the music (sorry, Jimmy Buffet, but even you couldn’t save it from the musical score) and the editing. In fact, the cuts between scenes were laughable. It made me realize, too, why I don’t find the book “satirical,” and that’s because an incompetent cop and a bumbling construction manager are really old stories.

Also, the dad lost his part in the story, which was the first time (in the book) that I had seen an adult really take his real role in YA in a long time. So that was a bummer, too. You can probably stand to watch it, but you aren’t going to want to run out and buy it.

[image error]The reviews for Jacqueline Davies’ The Lemonade War are mostly good, but after being critical of Island of the Blue Dolphins, I find myself reluctant to call this one how I read it:

I liked it.

I didn’t know what to expect, really. My daughter had pulled it from the shelf in her classroom, telling me that her teacher was very picky about what was there and so curated a very good collection. Even so, I was dubious because A) I hadn’t heard anything else about it and B) the cover is really not so great. It looks low-budget in the worst way. Doesn’t make me want to read it.

While it is true that The Lemonade War is both a painless economics lesson and leaves room for math exploration, I liked it not because of those things, but because it is neat and endearing. It’s a quick read, and characters are not tremendously fleshed out, but you get interested in their story and charmed by the whole thing. It’s almost like a more modern Beverly Cleary novel, but with different children.

It was predictable. It was entertaining. It is a painless lesson in economics with optional math exploration. I would recommend it.

And—surprise!—there are more. It didn’t seem like a series to me, and I didn’t actually love the book, so I didn’t know until this moment that there are more in the series. I would recommend you try the first one, and if you or your kid like it, try the second. The series is as follows:

The Lemonade War
The Lemonade Thief
The Bell Bandit
The Candy Smash
The Magic Trap

[image error]

And it seems to me that at least some of them also contain an educational pill. More math? History? If you are in charge of someone’s elementary education, even better. Use these books as ways to enhance their learning, and they probably won’t even notice. This would also be a great summer read, accompanied by a good, old-fashioned lemonade stand. Or even just lots of lemonade.

[image error]When my daughter was assigned this book for fifth grade reading, I was happy to read it. I enjoy history and have a special interest in Native American history. I thought this would be an interesting story, even though it is a fictionalized account.

Not so much. Besides the real story, itself, I found this book to be pretty boring. So did my daughter. And it wasn’t the tedium of being stuck on an island, alone, for years…

The true story goes like this: after a small Native American tribe that lives on a harsh island far off the coast of California is threatened and then decimated by otter hunters, they decide to flee on a missionary ship. It is the 1800s, and as they pull out into the difficult waters, one of the girls/young women doesn’t make it on to the boat. She is stranded on the island for 18 years by herself, until rescued and taken to the mainland to be reunited with her people, who are very few. This is all historical fact, but little else is known about the woman, known as Juana Maria.

In the 1960s, Scott O’Dell, a children’s novelist who specialized in California history, re-imagined the life of Juana Maria, fleshing out the details in what would become a Newbery Medal winner titled Island of the Blue Dolphins. Most of the account is made-up, but, of course, O’Dell used what he could discover about the tribe, times, and place. He makes Juana younger (probably for his audience) and explains her being stranded on her mischievous little brother. He also adds a dog character, which is a brilliant way to inject action into the story, explore Juana’s (called Karana in the book) humanity, and show her growth.

I can understand why you would have a child read this story, because it is interesting and informative, exposing them to several different things at once. The writing is clear, but, as I said, I just found the book to be boring. Now, I have read other stories about people being stranded alone (Death Watch, Selkirk’s Island, etc.), and of course this singularity poses a problem for an author. It’s hard to make anything interesting happen with only one character. But it has been done, and it needs to be done. I just don’t think O’Dell got there, and not because of the story. It was more his timing, his inclusion and exclusion of certain details, and pacing.

[image error]I also found that through the simplistic writing, Karana came off a little flat and unintentionally portrayed as unintelligent. Her resourcefulness and resilience is interesting, and possibly even empowering for readers, but her plodding along really made me feel like I, too, was plodding along.

I would not discourage you from trying out this quick read, but I would not put it at the top of my reading list unless I was obsessed with survival stories or California or Native American history.

__________

I read Island of the Blue Dolphins, by Scott O’Dell, the HMH Book for Children version from 2010. It was originally published in 1960.

[image error]Jane Goodall, at least when I was growing up, was a household name. Because I am not what I term a “creature person” (although I married one and beget one), I didn’t have any special interest in Goodall’s story. My daughter read My Life with the Chimpazees for fifth grade, and so I—as always—followed suit.

Surprise! I really enjoyed it.

This book is an autobiography or memoir, meant for children and outlining her first 28 years at Gombe National Park, Tanzania, in what would become the Jane Goodall Institute. It starts when she was a child, and among other things, it shows on a personal level how a dream can become a reality when one is determined, persistent, and imaginative. It also contains an unabashed world view which includes activism for chimpanzees and other animals, and she presents these ideas without caveat to the children reading her book. In fact, there is something especially endearing about the way she innocently and emphatically says things so pointedly. It’s like, I made this book for you, so you could see how you can realize your dreams, but also that animals need our protection and the earth needs our support. Here are some things you can do.

Goodall has led a life of unlikely fame, dogged devotion, and many, many accomplishments and awards. She has devoted herself not just to science, but to teaching, and activism, and has been a part of many organizations and movements.

I found Jane to be great company. Her voice was gentle, and she had so many stories to tell and so many thoughts to share. And what a remarkable life. Different enough from mine that it took me to another world, which is way a book should read, fiction or not. It was also a quick and easy read, both for me as an adult and for my eleven-year-old, who was more of the targeted audience. I did sense a lot of walling off, though, when it came to personal stories, and I felt under-gratified by some of the tales of her personal life, which may have been that way because the book was intended for children (or because Goodall is English).

Not the best book I’ve ever read, but definitely worth the read. It would be a great recommend for a child doing a non-fiction book report.

__________

OTHER MEDIA:

If you are interested in Jane Goodall, there are many, many ways to find out more. Here are a few suggestions.

My Friends the Wild Chimpanzees, 1969 (book by Goodall)
Through a Window, 1990 (book by Goodall)
40 Years at Gombe, 2000 (book by Goodall)
Africa in My Blood, 2000 (book by Goodall)
The Life and Legend of Jane Goodall, 1990 (movie)
Chimps, So Like Us, 2006 (movie)
Jane’s Journey, 2010 (movie)

__________

I read My Life with the Chimpanzees, by Jane Goodall, by Aladdin Paperbacks, the 1996 version. It was originally published by Byron Preiss Visual Publications, 1988, and includes some helpful photos of the author and others, including the chimps.

[image error]Frindle, by Andrea Clements, was another one of those third grade reading lists books that I bought for the new school year. In the fall, we were attempting to read the books back and forth, one paragraph at a time, but we have since stopped that. Understandably, partnering with my “low-reading” son, we read through this pretty ssslllooooowwlllyyy.

It was okay.

I understand why teachers would assign it for kids, since it both teaches about and encourages exploration of language. It’s short. It’s pretty easy to read. And it ends better than you think it’s going to, until it decides to keep going. The illustrations are nice, if straight-forward.

Nick Allen is one of those oft-misunderstood trouble makers who meets his nemesis in a teacher. He challenges her, and you think he might end up having to take a large slice of humble pie, until he turns the whole thing into a project which blows up bigger than even he can handle. It becomes a cause, and champions come to his reluctant side. After all, all he did was invent a word…

In the end, I found this book less than miraculous. I thought it was written okay. The characters were mildly developed but not tremendously interesting or even likeable. The plot plodded along, even for such a short read. Since it was a book largely about ideas, there was a lack of physical action and humor, which I look for, especially in children’s literature. (Caveat: recall that I read this book pretty slowly, myself.)

It’s also hard to believe this book would be taken seriously in something like a linguistics class, which it repeatedly has. The theme of language fluidity is a main one, but it basically goes unresolved and remains surface-y. I can think of several ways that could have been developed, even for children. Kids and their imagination win, again, to the detriment of adults and their stodgy tradition. The issues are much more nuanced than that, and I can only think that this read is given as a bit of fun for a college student, which opens the door to further exploration.

My eight-year-old son said he liked it, but had a fairly hard time qualifying that for a school report. I didn’t see in him the excitement that he has had for other books, like How to Train Your Dragon, or even Ramona or The Magic Treehouse series.

Keep in mind, it remains highly recommended by most readers and teachers. Do with that what you will. If it sounds interesting to you, it won’t set you back much monetarily or time-wise.

__________

We read Frindle, by Andrew Clements and published by Aladdin Paperbacks in 1996.