Astri is a young Norwegian girl desperate to join her father in America. After being separated from her sister and sold to a cruel goat farmer, Astri makes a daring escape. She quickly retrieves her little sister, and, armed with a troll treasure, a book of spells and curses, and a possibly magic hairbrush, they set off for America. With a mysterious companion in tow and the malevolent “goatman” in pursuit, the girls head over the Norwegian mountains, through field and forest, and in and out of folktales and dreams as they steadily make their way east of the sun and west of the moon.
These are dark times for children’s literature. Pick up a book for the 9-12 year-old set and you just don’t know what you’re going to find. Whether it’s the murderous foliage of The Night Gardener, the implications of Nightingale’s Nest, or the serious subject matter of The Red Pencil, 2014 is probably best described as the year everything went dark. Don’t expect West of the Moon to lighten the mood any either. Like those books I just mentioned, it’s amazing. Dark and resilient with a core theme that simply cannot be ignored. Yet for all that Preus has tapped into a bit of harsh reality with her title that may give pause to all but the stoutest hearts. Fortunately, she tempers this reality with an artist’s license. With folktales and beautifully written prose. With a deep sisterly bond, and a serious consideration of what is right and what wrong and what is necessary in desperate circumstances. I don’t expect everyone to read this book and instantly love it, but I do expect people to read it. Slow to start, smart when it continues, and unlike anything you’ve ever really read before.
“Now I know how much I’m worth: not as much as Jesus, who I’m told was sold for thirty pieces of silver. I am worth two silver coins and a haunch of goat.” That’s Astri, discussing the fact that her aunt and uncle have just essentially sold her to Svaalberd, the local goat herder. Though she is loathe to go, she knows that she has little choice in the matter, and must leave her little sister behind with her foul relatives. Svaalberd turns out to be even fouler, however, and as she plans her escape Astri hits up on the idea of leaving Norway and going to America. With time and opportunity she makes good her plans, taking little sister Greta with her, protecting the both of them, and making difficult choices every step of the way.
I’ll just give away the game right from the start and confess to you that I’m a big time fan of this book. It’s sort of a brilliant combination of realism with folktales and writing that just cuts to the heart thanks to a heroine who is not entirely commendable (a rarity in this day and age). But I also experienced a very personal reaction to the book that as much to do with Preus’s extensive Author’s Note as anything else. You see, my own great-great-grandfather immigrated to America around the same time as Ms. Preus’s great-great-grandparents (the people who provided much of the inspiration for this book). I’ve always rather loved knowing about this fellow since most of the immigrants in my family disappeared into the past without so much as a blip. This guy we actually have photographs of. Why he left had as much to do with his abusive father as anything else, but I never really understood the true impetus behind leaving an entire country. Then I read the Author’s Note and learned about this “America fever” that spread through Norway and enticed people to leave and move to the States. It gives my own family history a bit of context I’ve always lacked and for that I thank Ms. Preus profusely.
On top of that, she provides a bit of context to the immigrant historical experience that we almost never see. We always hear about immigrants coming to America but have we ever seen a true accounting of how much food and staples they were told to bring for the boat trip? I sure as heck hadn’t! You can study Ellis Island all the livelong day but until you read about the 24 pounds of meat and the small keg of kerring folks were asked to bring, you don’t really understand what they were up against.
It should surprise no one when I say that Preus is also just a beautiful writer. I mean, she is a Newbery Honor winner after all. Still, I feel I was unprepared for the book’s great use of symbolism. Take, for example, the fact that the name of the girl that gives Astri such a hard time is “Grace”. And then there’s the fact that Preus does such interesting things with the narrative. For example she’ll mention a spell she observed Svaalberd reciting and then follow that fact up with a quick, “I’ll thank you to keep that to yourself.” You’re never quite certain whom she is addressing. The reader, obviously, but anyone else? In her Author’s Note Ms. Preus mentions that much of the book was inspired, sometimes directly, by her great-great-grandmother Linka’s diary. Knowing this, the book takes on the feel of a kind of confessional. I don’t know whom exactly Astri is confessing to, but it feels right. Plus, it turns out that she has a LOT to confess.
As characters go, Astri is a bit of a remarkable protagonist. Have you read Harriet the Spy recently? See, back in the day authors weren’t afraid to write unsympathetic main characters. People that you rooted for, but didn’t particularly like. But recent children’s literature shies away from that type. Our protagonists are inevitably stouthearted and true and if they do have flaws then they work through them in a healthy all-American kind of way. Astri’s different. When she recounts her flaws they take on the feeling of a folktale (“I’ve stolen the gold and hacked off the fingers and snitched the soap and swiped the wedding food. I’ve lied to my own little sister and left Spinning Girl behind, and now I’m stealing the horse, saddle, and bridle from the farm boy who never did anything wrong except display a bit of greed.”) But hey, she’s honest! This section is then followed with thoughts on what makes a person bad. Does desperation counteract sin? How do you gauge individual sins?
If I’ve noted any kind of a theme in my middle grade children’s literature this year (aside from the darkness I alluded to in the opening paragraph) it’s a fascination with the relationship between lies and stories. Jonathan Auxier explored this idea to some extent in The Night Gardener, as did Jacqueline Woodson in Brown Girl Dreaming. Here, Preus returns to the notion of where stories stop and lies begin again and again. Says she at some point, “soon I’ve run out of golden thread with which to spin my pretty stories and I’m left with just the thin thread of truth.” Astri is constantly telling stories to Gerta, sometimes to coax her into something, sometimes to comfort her. But in her greatest hour of soul searching she wonders, “Is it a worse sin to lie to my sweet sister than to steal from a cruel master?” And where does lying start when storytelling ends? There are no easy answers to be found here. Just excellent questions.
So let’s talk attempted sexual assault in a work of children’s literature. Oh, it’s hardly uncommon. How many of us remember the reason that Julie in Julie of the Wolves ran away to join a furry pack? In the case of West of the Moon the attempt could be read any number of ways. Adults, for example, will know precisely what is going on. But kids? When Astri sees her bed for the first time she takes the precaution of grabbing the nearest knife and sticking it under her pillow. No fool she, and the act turns out to be a good piece of forethought since later in the book the goatman does indeed throw her onto her bed. She comes close to cutting his jugular and the incident passes (though he says quite clearly, “Come summer, we will go down to the church and have the parson marry us. Then I’ll take you to my bed.”). Reading the section it’s matter-of-fact. A realistic threat that comes and goes and will strike a chord with some readers instantly and others not at all. There will be kids that read the section and go to their parents or teachers (or even librarians) looking for some clarification, so adults who hand this to younger readers should be ready for uncomfortable questions. Is it inappropriate for kids? That is going to depend entirely on the kid. For some 9 and 10-year-olds there’s nothing here to raise an eyebrow. Astri hardly does. Later she hates the goatman far more for baby lambicide than any attempted rape. For others, they’ll not care for the content. Kids are great self-censors, though. They know what they can handle. I wouldn’t be worried on that score.
If we’re going to get to the heart of the matter, this book is about grace and forgiveness. It’s about how even victims (or maybe especially victims) are capable of terrible terrible things. It’s about making amends with the world and finding a way to forgive yourself and to move on. Astri is, as I’ve said before, not a saintly character. She steals and tricks good people for her own reasons and she leaves it to the reader to decide if she is worth forgiving. This is an ideal book discussion title, particularly when you weave in a discussion of the folktales, the notion of stories vs. lies, and the real world history. It’s not an easy book and it requires a little something extra on the part of the reader, but for those kids that demand a bit of a challenge and a book that’ll make ‘em stop and think for half a moment, you can’t do better. Remarkable.
I think this book was a victim of the mentality that a story about children should be for children. (In the interest of full disclosure, it hit two of my personal no-noes for children's fiction: sexual violence and childbirth.) Being a devotee of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon," "The Black Bull of Norroway," Cupid and Psyche, and other hunt-for-the-lost-husband-type stories, I must admit that I was very disappointed. Obviously Preus is very invested in the story, its origins in her family history (the author's notes were a very nice touch.) Preus is obviously passionate about telling this story and I think it had the potential to be a very good story for a young adult or adult audience. But the themes of abuse and sexual violence were just not handled in an appropriate way, particularly for young readers.
Preus references a wealth of very excellent fairy tales, in a way that seemed to indicate that Astri was self-aware and cognizant of the fact that she was in something of a fairy-tale, and yet much of the time she didn't quite behave accordingly. (Lying, cheating, stealing? To borrow a turn of phrase from Peter Beagle's The Last Unicorn, "Haven't you ever been in a fairy-tale before?") It's not that I didn't like Astri because she made mistakes and so was a "well-rounded character" with "real flaws." She runs around actively comparing her life to a fairy-tale, she needs to either act like it, or give some serious thought as to why she is blatantly ignoring all the advice fairy tales have to offer, i.e. don't be a jerk to good people. (And yet her sympathy for Svaalberd in his final moments, what the heck? They should have left him in the woods when they conveniently happened across him right in time for him to die of a gnarly case of tetanus, which for me, was just about the most satisfying part of the book.)
There are many elements that come across as strange contrivances, which could have been so much more interesting if the story had taken that plunge into self-awareness. Why, of course you have a long-lost sister you subsequently abandoned, again! Of course Mor Kloster, who attended Greta's birth, would be on the same ship to America! This is a fairy-tale!
But no. From me, personally, West of the Moon inspires no such enchantment. Preus's style of storytelling doesn't seem particularly interested in fairy-tales. Astri's boons: the hairbrush, and the key (though what the key does, I can't for the life of me remember) seem to be granted just as a matter of course, not because she is particularly good, but because she might be pretty if she would just brush her hair. She out-maneuvers Svaalberd the goatman by force, rather than by cleverness. The trick with the river was a fantastic homage to Hansel and Gretel; I thought for certain we had reached a turning point in the story and was let down. The theme of transformation so common in Preus's "source material" is sourly lacking. We are told Astri is "good," but why? Is it because of her snap decision to let Greta go live with the blacksmith, which doesn't seem to inspire much internal debate from a character who spent seventy-five-percent of the book going "OMG, my sister"? Is it her ability to navigate a woman's vaginal canal with her tiny hands to facilitate the miracle of birth?
The entire "Godfather Death" sequence was trippy as anything, and to be honest the way they talked about Soria Moria Castle, as a sort-of heaven-like place freaked me out. I just don't feel like kids should have to read about kids talking about death in terms of "I'm going to be with mother now, goodbye..."
I fear that the entire crop of fairy-tale inspired books this year sort of missed the point of fairy tales, in that bad things happen, really horrible things, but there's still that sense of magic and play. For example, Astri's life is probably right on par with "The Goose Girl" for the sheer amount of awful stuff that happens to her. But in The Goose Girl, there's still that dark sort of humor when the boy has to go to the king and announce "You know that horse head you chopped off and had mounted on the wall...it's talking." And in the end when the treacherous servant girl gets thrown in a barrel of nails and rolled down a hill (awful, really, when you think about it) but that's justice! You don't get that kind of satisfaction from West of the Moon, and I was disappointed.
This entire review has been hidden because of spoilers.
To be fair, I'm not the hugest fan of stories where magic is of the "but then she woke up" variety. This one discusses folk-tales a lot, and tries to find parallels to the real life events that are actually happening, but those parallels are forced. Without the tales not much happens, and what little does happen is rather nasty. I understand it's historical fiction (and therefore the nastiness is likely very real) but had I known this when I picked it up - well, I would have put it right back down again.
Also East of the Sun, West of the Moon has always been my favourite fairytale, so my expectations were higher than fair.
It isn't actually poorly written, simply rather deceptively marketed and a little dull.
Another one I read over the Atlantic ocean, unplugged from reality and transported somewhere else. Gorgeous, magical, a mix of historical fiction and fairy/folklore of Scandinavia. I loved it.
I read this to preview for my 10 year old daughter. I liked it. It was strange at times and it's very much a folktale. I personally don't feel like my 10 year old is ready for the physical and verbal abuse that was in the beginning of the book. It could be a little much. It was an interesting read but at this time I won't encourage this as being an appropriate read for a 10 year old.
It may be my biases as a reader speaking, but I think folklore makes an excellent vehicle for discussing the subject of immigration. Folktales and myths are full of journeys, transformations, and unpredictable dangers. Sometimes the heroine of a folktale finds that the tools that have worked in her old life are no longer useful in the dark forest or cursed castle. Just as often, however, she finds that her whole life has been preparing her to defeat this dragon - that she has been building an arsenal without even realizing it.
Astri, the Norwegian protagonist of West of the Moon, is in the latter situation. Left behind when her father emigrated to America, separated from her younger sister and sold to a surly goatherd by her greedy aunt, her situation feels hopeless. Like Westley storming the castle with a wheelbarrow and Holocaust Cloak in The Princess Bride, though, she makes the most of her limited resources - even stealing when necessary. As Astri escapes from the clutches of the goat man and toward an America that feels as mythical as the land of Soria Moria, Preus interweaves her story with the Norwegian folktale, "East of the Sun and West of the Moon." As Astri tells the tale to herself and her sister, it serves as a bridge between her past and her future, while also shedding light on the deeper meaning of her journey.
This is, unquestionably, a first-rate novel. Preus easily hits all of the Newbery criteria high points. Her prose style is clear and lively, and the first-person present-tense narration is well-suited to the urgency of the plot. Settings are especially well-delineated, and Preus includes just enough sensory details to ground the story in a strong sense of place(s) without slowing down the pace. Characters are complex for the most part, though some of the secondary ones feel stock, and Astri and her sister show significant growth and development even in the space of a relatively short novel.
The tension between myth and reality is what really makes West of the Moon "distinguished" though - in both the senses of being "individually distinct" and "made conspicuous by excellence." I don't think I've ever seen folklore used in exactly this way, and that alone is enough to make me pay attention, especially when it often feels like children's literature is constantly repeating itself. But Preus doesn't just do something new here - she does it well. In her hands, a single folktale becomes a lens through which to view not just one girl, but a moment in the life of a culture.
As I read, my main question about West of the Moon had to do with its audience. There are some events in the first half of the book - most notably an attempted rape - that made me wonder if this is really more of a young adult novel than a juvenile one. In the end, though it walks that line as precariously as Far, Far Away does, I do think Astri's naivete and the youthful optimism of the tone places it in the juvenile zone. If the Newbery committee agrees, we may well see a sticker on this one in January.
I can see why people like this, in a sort of distant way. But for a book about stories, ultimately the worldbuilding felt too limited. Not enough happened, and the world was so narrow in scope, and the story wasn't about fairy tales as much as it referenced fairy tales - without saying anything beyond "happily ever afters are a lie." Which feels - uninspired.
I really WANTED to like "West of the Moon" by Margi Preus - a Minnesota author after all, but I ended up being very disappointed. I read it for a children's literature book club that I belong to. That might have been part of the problem. I do not consider this "children's" literature, despite its packaging and marketing. I do, however, consider it quality literature.
"West of the Moon" - at once historical fiction, folktale, and fantasy - begins as thirteen year old Astri is sold to a dirty (both literally and figuratively), cruel old goat farmer (Mr. Svaalberd) by her aunt. Astri and her sister have been taken in by her aunt's family after the death of Astri's mother. Their father has gone to America to find a job. He sends money and will send for the girls once he is settled. However, the aunt has stolen the money meant for the girls and treated them cruelly as well. At Svaalberd's, Astri is enslaved and abused. Eventually, she escapes and begins a journey to abscond with her sister and head for America.
"West of the Moon" is packaged and marketed as a late elementary/middle school read. Preus, inspired by a line from her great great grandmother's diary, intertwines reality, fantasy, and folktale. This can make for a challenging reading. As an adult who reads a lot, I found it challenging. Most late elementary and middle schoolers would not have the background knowledge, or reading experience, to navigate or understand much of this. In addition, the book is very dark. The physical abuse that Astri and the Spinning Girl endure is very difficult to read. Add to that the fact that Svaallberd attempts to rape Astri and then makes all sorts of insinuations about marrying her and bedding her, and the story seems more appropriate for young adults and adults than it does for the intended audience.
Preus' writing, on the other hand, is lush and lyrical. Simply beautiful. It is filled passages like, "I feel as if my insides are made of hard knots and pebbles, balls of sticky tallow, tangles of yarn, and lumps of ash." Or "Something is different. As soon as I open my eyes, I can tell. The tiny square of light coming in the grubby window has changed; it isn't yellow-gold anymore. This light is a pale gray-blue, like milk without the cream mixed in. I know before I look outside: It has snowed." Or “Gulls screech and wheel; fishmongers call out their catch. Ships creak and groan as they pull against their heavy anchor lines, the ships’ tackle clattering against the masts and yards.” The use of accurate historical detail, discussed in the afterword, adds the lusciousness of the book. For those who read the afterword, much will be clarified.
Important themes of immigration, loss, child slavery, taking advantage of children, and females finding their power, abound. One will find much here to ponder and consider.
"West of the Moon" is a multi-layered piece requiring a slow and thoughtful reader. It is not a book for everyone - and is definitely not for most members of the seemingly intended audience. It is mentioned often in certain circles as a potential award winner for the 2014 book awards season. It wouldn't surprise me if it won - but it would add to my frustration at book awards committees who often seem to forget to consider how a book will be received by its intended audience. In the eyes of an adult, this is a beautifully written, multi-layered, rich piece of literature. I don't think it will be a hit, however, for most members of its intended audience. That, to me, should be the most important consideration when naming a book as an award winner.
Based on the synopsis I thought this might be like a Norwegian version of 'Where the Mountain Meets the Moon,' but with an Aunt selling off her niece, a subtle threat of sexual assault by chapter 3, fingers getting cut off in chapter 9 and people dying of tetanus and cholera, this reads a bit older than Where the Mountain. It will appeal more to the crowd that likes the Adam Gidwitz Grimm books.
What is appealing about this book is how it weaves Scandinavian folklore into a narrative of two sisters, Astri and Greta, trying to get to America to find their father in apx. 1850. The older sister believes these tales to the point of delusion, but they help her cope with the harsh reality she lives. She will do anything to protect her younger sister as they try to make their way west.
I had trouble deciding into which age group to place this title. The cover is horrible; very uninviting. The topics addressed are at times quite mature. There is attempted rape, the mentioned of forced marriage to be followed by "bedding", a mother leaves her child to the elements, etc. Adults might be enchanted by the folkloric magical elements, but kids will probably just be confused.
I liked how this book mixed Norwegian folk and fairy tales into the story, though towards the end, the bridge between reality and fairy tale was a little strange. Also, it had elements which I don’t consider appropriate for children… I wish the author had just left that out.
There's a little something more, I daresay, to books of fantastic adventure based on real-life events, particularly when those events are drawn from the family history of the book's author. Margi Preus specializes in such literature, following up the successful and compelling Heart of a Samurai (a 2011 Newbery Honor designee) and Shadow on the Mountain with a novel I believe exceeds them both, West of the Moon. Expanding on a series of fancily scrawled entries in her great-great-grandmother's diary, Margi Preus did extensive research into Norwegian folk history and superstition, created dozens of believable characters and entwined their backstories in stunning ways, dreamed up multiple strong plot ideas that are nothing short of the quality seen in award-winning kids' literature, and handed us the golden string at the start to accompany Astri on her harrowing voyage. Oh my, but the journey is one for the ages, heavy on heartbreak and disappointment, mostly Astri's in herself. Also deprivation, neglect that stirs the reader's heart to outrage, and calamitous loss at the moment when the prize at last appears to be won, a ring of brass so tantalizingly positioned, ready to be grabbed. Many more of us are Astris than Gretas, natured to live in areas of gray morality just to get along, so we recognize Astri's reflection of the gravitas we intimately know, and her losses are as painfully felt as our own. West of the Moon is only one hundred ninety-seven pages (excluding the Author's Note), but its trip up and down the emotional scales is faultless, lifting the utmost from every note played so the story feels longer than that, and still it is hard to reconcile oneself to the finality of its concluding paragraphs. A wonderful work of family and the nature of love has Margi Preus herein made, but don't expect a generic happy ending, for there is none to be had. But there is an adventure to be embarked upon, and I encourage everyone within sight of these words to take it. I, for one, was profoundly impacted by the journey.
"What is it, I wonder, that makes us human?"
—West of the Moon, P. 33
We haven't had much time to dwell on Astri's troubled home situation when the hunchbacked goatman comes to drag her away to his dingy cottage in the Norwegian countryside. Before Astri has been clued in that her stay with her aunt and uncle's family is being terminated so she can be sold as a slave, the goatman fills the doorway, practically salivating over the prospect of having Astri's young female cousins at his beck and call as servants. But no, only Astri is expendable to her smugly satisfied aunt. The girl is abruptly snatched away by the horrible goatman, Mr. Svaalberd, before she has time to bid proper goodbye to her eight-year-old sister, Greta, left cowering in their bedroom loft without thirteen-year-old Astri to watch over her anymore. The hopeful promise that one day their father would return for them from America, where he set sail after their mother's death to prepare the way for his two daughters to follow, is rendered an unlikely dream as Astri is pulled out of the only home she has left in Norway.
Mean and sarcastic, with a proclivity for doling out vicious wallops and kicks to his young slave girl, sneering in her face before the crack of dawn and ordering her to awaken and get to the backbreaking labor he has in store for her, the goatman is a terror to work for, and Astri wonders how long she can last like this. Through wooded dales and mountain passes, past rivers and glens and cliffs, Greta remains somewhere out there, but Astri has only a faint idea of the path home, and would be sure to lose her way with Svaalberd hot in pursuit if she made a run for it. As the months pass and Astri warily keeps her distance from her cruel and occasionally lecherous taskmaster, she gains insight into parts of the goatman's sustenance that weren't apparent at first, and with these revelations comes more anger and abuse from the man who legally owns her. Astri isn't alone in Svaalberd's household, it turns out, but can she use the presence of another reluctant worker to further her own goal of getting back to Greta to save her from the ostracism of an extended family that cares not a whit about her?
No matter the months that fly by as Astri survives the filth and lucre of her habitation with the goatman, she never stops watching for the chance to bolt from captivity and wind her way back to Greta. Would Astri really be daring enough to sneak back to her aunt and uncle's place and nab her sister before the family could react, stealing away before the goatman could report her absence and demand all within earshot help him track down his rightful property? Does even a girl as hardened and desperate as Astri have what it takes to charter passage to America, in hopes of somehow finding their father on the New World's shores amidst millions of other citizens? But Astri is not to be lightly dismissed, for driving her are two intense motivators: her repugnance for Svaalberd, who inches closer by the day to crossing the line and taking more from Astri than her body or psyche could handle, and her enduring love for Greta, the one immediate family member she is certain still lives. Taking advantage of the slim opening when it arrives, darting through it and not looking back at the monster pounding furiously after her, Astri engineers an escape that cannot work, that should not work...unless, of course, it does. With Svaalberd on her tail, mad with rage that Astri would attempt to deprive him of his property, and her aunt caring only to protect the financial gain brought by selling Astri to the goatman, the young teenager makes a beeline for Greta, betting everything on her ability to swipe her little sister unnoticed and be too far gone to catch before anyone deduces what happened.
But where is Astri and Greta's father now? It was a long time ago that he sailed on his own for the land of opportunity, and not a word has been heard from him since then. Astri resists the urge to think too hard on why that might be, refusing to entertain the possibility that her father may have gone broke and/or be dead, that no hope exists for him to ever summon his hopeful daughters to reunite in material splendor on the welcoming shores of America the beautiful. Numerous obstacles lie between the penniless girls and their ambitious destination, not the least of which is the yawning blue chasm of the Atlantic Ocean, dotted with little ships chugging along to touch base in the land of the free. Surviving a sea voyage through dire illness and the threat of famine is a daunting challenge, with no promise that a loving embrace waits anywhere on the other side of the ocean. But Astri has to try, for her and for Greta; without a home in America to look forward to, there is nothing left for them but more poverty, oppression, and cruelty in Norway at the hands of pitiless men such as Svaalberd. And so the girls, who have nought in this world but one another, place all their eggs in one basket and hope against the odds that their story will be a happy one, that the ebullient Norwegian legends Astri has been regaled with from her earliest childhood can hold just as true in the United States, and a pair of ragtag girls lost without a soul on earth to care for them can still find a decent fate as part of the American experiment. But is there truly a happy end to their trail, or are they sailing only toward heartbreak and rejection in a foreign land?
"I want to do what's right. But how can I, when I am faced with only impossible choices?"
—West of the Moon, P. 112
I easily would give three and a half stars to West of the Moon, and considered rounding that up to four. But what makes it such a superb novel? You can take your pick of at least a dozen ways in which the story soars higher than the preponderance of its contemporaries. The action is suspenseful and perceptively coordinated, with palpable danger nipping at Astri's heels every second of her flight from elements odious and perverse. Her aunt is a perfectly infuriating figure, a subtle thief and negligent caretaker, at least to the standards of those reading West of the Moon contemporary to its release in 2014. There have been eras when the buying and selling of kid laborers to erase debts and pad one's pockets was considered fair practice, even to a purchaser as revolting as the goatman, but in 2014, such activity would be deemed conscienceless and criminal. The goatman is given to disturbing bursts of violence, thinking nothing of smacking Astri around until she bleeds from multiple orifices, and though Astri accepts it in stride as a normal consequence of living in slavery to the whims of an unsavory master, we the readers are incensed that Svaalberd could get away with treating her this way. The goatman's clear and present threat adds all the more quickening to the reader's pulse when Astri selects her narrow window of opportunity and slips through it, risking a beating far worse than usual if Svaalberd catches her before she can reach Greta. Setting aside the staccato bursts of chase that surprise us when the goatman jumps out at the girls and readies to do them harm, the deepest rewards in West of the Moon are found in Astri and Greta's imperturbable relationship. They are the last flickers of hope for one another in this world: without Greta there wouldn't be sufficient reason for Astri to keep going, no higher purpose in fighting powerful adults who don't care if Astri lives or dies; and without Astri, Greta wouldn't have the strength, cunning, or boldness to defeat her enemies and pursue refuge at her father's side, if there remains refuge to be attained. Right at the beginning of the book, as Astri says her brief goodbyes before the goatman hauls her away to his ramshackle house, we see this poignant moment: "I kiss the top of Greta's head and place my hand on her face for just a moment—all I dare, or risk a broken heart." Already on page six, we feel the yearning between the sisters, what it must be like to realize the last person on earth who cares for you may be slipping through your helpless grasp forever. Like Astri, we're missing Greta before her big sister even leaves with Svaalberd, and it isn't easy for an author to evoke such strong emotion so early in a story.
Roughly a hundred pages later, when Astri is called upon to give a speech about a certain man, she comes up with the following: "How much do we really know each other, when it comes down to it? He told me once about the huldrefolk, and about how we live side by side with them, and sometimes I wonder if maybe we're all huldre somehow, hidden from each other in ways we can only guess at." Then, in her own mind: "It makes me dizzy to consider it, but I feel suddenly how all things are woven together, all things seen and unseen, all things alive now and that once were, for generations back and generations to come, woven of a kind of golden thread that links me to Greta and both of us to this man, to everyone and everything forever right now, this moment, world without end, amen." As you can see, her lack of education and the immediate danger of their situation doesn't prevent Astri from taking a closer look at life and the reasons for it all. There is much anxiety ahead for Astri and Greta, plenty to worry all of us who come to care about them as if they were our own family. There may or may not be a positive conclusion to their intercontinental odyssey, but Astri doesn't lack for insight into their problems and proffered solutions: insight that comes from herself, Greta, and occasional unexpected outside sources, such as when Astri asks someone she tentatively considers an ally how she should ever be able to discern between wisdom and foolishness, right and wrong, useful information and downright nonsense in appraising the value of knowledge and advice. "That comes from practice", the possible ally responds. "And from using (your head)...which you must do all your life and with every single thing you hear and read. What are the true things and what are not? What is good, and what is rubbish? Everything you encounter in life, everything you read, you have to use your own noggin, my girl." Superstition has strong influence on the Norwegian culture Astri intends to leave behind, and she will have to resist her tendency to revert to unquestioning belief in magic and spells if she is to counteract the ploys of individuals who would take advantage of her superstitions to play her for the fool. Something tells me Astri will be fine if she keeps hold of her wits and doesn't forget where she's headed and why. Whether Astri and Greta locate their father or not, the sisters have each other to lean on in the world, and that's more than most can say. If worst comes to worst, they will bravely confront this unfamiliar new land with the certainty that doing it together is immeasurably better than going at it alone. No matter what they discover on the search for their father, they embark upon it with each other. Siblings as interconnected as Astri and Greta could never lose each other for good.
West of the Moon continues to pull strongly on my heart, and I'm fairly sure it's never going to stop. The story's emotions border on haunting, in particular at the end, reverberating to one's core. Margi Preus is a special writer, and not primarily because of her skill with grand, flourishing description, or wicked reversals of plot direction, twisting opposite to what most intuitive literary minds would anticipate, although she is good at all of that. Margi Preus is special as an author because of the emotion she so effectively imparts, investing us in her stories and characters because we powerfully feel what is at stake. That's what made my West of the Moon experience, and it's why I wouldn't have been surprised had the book been awarded the 2015 Newbery Medal. This is a novel I love now and will love for a long time. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Ms. Preus, for West of the Moon.
I almost have no idea what I just read. I'm really reluctant to place this in my middle-grade reads because I don't really think this is a middle-grade novel. Another reviewer said something like this was not a great middle-grade book but it was great literature and I have to kind of agree for the most part on that note.
This book is strange and the parallels it's trying to make with immigration and the fairy talk East of The Sun and West of the Moon is sometimes hard to follow and there is just no way a child is going to have a clue what she is talking about most of the time. It's not even about maturity in a reader - it's about having a lot some back knowledge of some of things that are going on. There are also some really disturbing scenes like the adult goatman trying to sexually assault the main child in the story and then later trying to marry her so he could "bed her." A lot of parents are likely to feel pretty uncomfortable with letting their children read this - hell I was uncomfortable reading it myself in some parts.
I'm not really sure if I recommend this story because it's just so bizarre. You are either going to get a couple chapters in and throw it at the wall or you're going to think it's the greatest thing since sliced bread. If you want to give this one a shot yourself than by all means - go for it and let me know how you made out with it.
TRIGGER WARNING: Attempted child rape and child marriage.
Astri and her younger sister, Gerta, are living with their aunt and uncle in Norway after their mother has died and their father has gone to America. They are expecting him to send for them, but before that happens, Astri’s aunt and uncle sell her as a servant to a neighbour. While working there, she dreams of escape and running to America to find her dad.
I really enjoyed this. It’s a bit simple at times and seems easy to get out of some of her predicaments, but it’s a kid’s book, so I can look past that. There aren’t a lot of illustrations in the book, but I loved the ones that were there! It’s historical fiction (set in the mid-1800s), so it was nice to see that historical note at the end. She based it on a diary of her ancestors who came across the ocean from Norway – they had met a girl on her own, so this story was to make up why that girl might be on her own. The note also described some of the medical conditions in the book and how they would have been dealt with at that time.
Hard to read some of the reviews here, as I can't imagine anyone considering this book anything less than a small treasure. It's magical realism, folklore-meets-historical fiction for kiddos and it stole my heart. I truly loved it.
A clever mix of 19th century immigration, folktales, and folklore makes this a fascinating read. Astri, a Norwegian girl, has been sold by her aunt to a nasty neighbor, Mr. Svaalberd, to help him with his goat farm. From the time she first saw Mr. Svaalberd, Astri saw signs of a man with questionable intentions, sleeping at night with a knife under her pillow for protection. She is a plucky survivalist who uses her wits by taking advantage of opportunities to try and get herself and her sister on a ship from Norway to America. Her father left Astri and her sister in the care of an aunt who sells Astri as a servant to Mr Svaalberd. Astri deals with her situation and abuse under Svaalberd by making comparisons with the folktale character in "East of the Sun West of the Moon." This theme of how stories help people deal with reality is tightly knit throughout this tale. In a nice balance of dark and light, Astri humorously calls Svaalbeard, "Old Goatbeard," "Mr. Goat," and "Goatman" comparing him to the Three Billy Goats Gruff. She also recognizes Svaalberd's stories of the hidden folk or "huldrefolk" are meant to keep her from running away. Preus captures a time when Christianity and the old religion live side-by-side; a time when one God and science along with superstitions, folklore, and magic are used to define the unexplainable and people believe in each to varying degrees.
Preus has terrific character development and beautiful sentences. When Astri meets the mute girl she dubs her, "Spinning Girl," because she is an incredible weaver. Astri tells her stories: "That's what I tell her, but as her wheel whirs, my mind whirs along with it, and soon I've run out of golden thread with which to spin my pretty stories and I'm left with just the thin thread of truth. And that wiry, rough little thread tells me that if anyone is going to do any rescuing in this place, it's going to have to be me." She uses stories to comfort herself and also give her strength to take action. She is strong-spirited and makes good and bad decisions in her quest to get to America.
This book has many authentic and historical details. Astri makes up names for the people in the story such as Spinning Girl, Goatman, which made me think of how the Norwegians made up nicknames describing people. The Vikings had "Erik the Red," "Unn the deep-minded," and "Gudrun the Fair" to name a few. There was "Haakon the Good," the King that established Christianity. Preus also includes small details such as the Sølje brooch that is Norway's traditional silver, flatbread, goat bells, the Seter, old Norsk versus new Norsk, and more. I wondered how a poor goat farmer could afford help, but Spinning Girl would have made Goatman money. People would pay for a warm coat or jacket during the cold winter months and her weaving would have given him more money than his poor goat farm. If you are interested in a historical book that explains Norwegian economy and the importance of textiles, as well as farming, then read the archeological book, "The Far Traveler: Voyages of a Viking Woman," by Nancy Marie Brown. It shows how spot-on Preus is with her details. The only question I had is the use of "lass" and "wee" throughout the story by Goatman and the farmer's wife. I'm not sure that the Scottish language would have influenced the dialect in a remote rural Norwegian village, but hey, those Vikings got around. Maybe it did. My relatives always used "lite" or "liten" for little and a child was a "barn." But dialects vary all over Norway and I don't know how much other countries influenced European languages in the 19th century.
Another terrific detail is the provisions needed to bring in an immigrant's trunk. I know many families that still have these trunks in Minneapolis and I am amazed to think of what they had brought from Norway. Preus details their provisions and it is mind-boggling. Right now I'm looking at my great-grandma's rosemaled bread basket thinking of her packing for America. Did she bring 24 pounds of meat like in this story? Did she bring too much butter like the man in this story that Astri steals from? One warning about content is that Goatman attempts to sexually assault Astri, but it is written in a straight-forward way and Astri doesn't dwell on it. This part might bother some readers while others will not be fine with it. Also, even though Astri is a victim, she does terrible things as well. She steals to survive. She hurts others. But she has a conscience and struggles with her decisions. She regrets her mistakes and has an admirable self-reflective honesty. As a character, she is very real. This is a tale of redemption. Astri must learn to forgive herself and others to move on and find happiness in her life. A Newbery contender. Don't miss it.
It's a funny book to be in both my historical and fairytale shelf. I'm not sure if I liked it. I like my fairytales pretty well separated from history, usually, especially if the big plot goal is We're Going To America. I'm just really not a fan of American migration stories. Maybe I read too many of those fictional journals about the girls going to/from America in the 1800s, but honestly, the 19th century is my very least favorite century to read about, anyway, so this book already had some marks against it. Fairytales set in the distant past in hard-to-define countries, please!
But honestly it could have worked, and for about the first part of the book, it did. I really loved Astri's narration - she was brash and shameless and plucky and a survivor in the best, least-melodramatic sense - just kind of a sassy brat, tbh, but while that sounds really unappealing, she pulls it off, because she's also very no-nonsense, very earthy. I love Astri! And her character arc, while kind of uneven/inconsistent, was really fascinating, too. I love characters who are just kind of awful people and know it but somehow can't stop being awful. Hashtag relatable.
But the book's biggest problem is that it's hard to incorporate the magic, wistfulness, oddity, quirkiness, and surreality of a fairytale when you have something as hard-historical as immigration to America. It just /is/. I'm sure there are ways to pull it off but this mere blending of a quasi-fairytale adventure - the goatman who isn't really a goat, the odd Spinning Girl and her not-really-gold-but-it-looks-magical, yarn, the fake magical brush - with historical fact... it just didn't work for me. Maybe I just have poor taste? I don't know. Nothing quite jived right, is all I know.
Also, Crime Pays, and you don't need to worry about stealing a horse and then selling it for the money, or abandoning a human being who you said you'd come back for. No worries. It's all good, or at least not something you have to dwell on/feel guilt for.
So yeah: the first part, a solid 4 stars for a great protagonist and great conflict. The second two parts... eh.
Astri lives with her stepmother, stepsisters and younger sister until she is sold to the cruel goat farmer. He takes her to his home, refuses to ever let her bathe, has her do drudge work, and doesn’t let her ever return to see her sister. Then Astri discovers another girl kept locked in a storage shed, who spins wool into yarn all day long. Astri escapes the goat farmer, taking his book of spells and his troll treasure. She heads off with the other girl to find her younger sister and then all three flee, heading to find their father in America. But it is a long trip to get to the sea and an even longer trip from Norway to America. Along the way, the goatman continues to pursue them, they meet both friendly faces and cruel, and the story dances along the well-traveled roads of folk tales. Astri slowly pieces together her own story and then resolutely builds herself a new one with her sister by her side.
An incredible weaving of the gold of folktales with the wool of everyday life, this book is completely riveting. Preus has created a story where there are complicated villains, where dreams are folktales and folktales build dreams, where girls have power and courage, and where both evil and kindness come in many forms. It is a book that is worth lingering over, a place worth staying in from awhile, and a book that you never want to end.
Astri is a superb character. Armed with no education but plenty of guts and decisiveness, she fights back against those who would keep her down and separate her from her sister. As the story progresses and she escapes, she becomes all the more daring and free spirited. Her transformation is both breathtaking and honest. One roots for Astri throughout the story, fights alongside her and like Astri wills things to happen.
A wondrously successful and magical story that is interwoven with folktales, this book is a delight. Appropriate for ages 9-12.
Mixing fairy and folktale with harsh historical reality, Preus has created a gorgeous story of migration set in 19th century Norway. So many stories of immigrants to America focus on their lives when they arrive. Here is one about the old country inspired by something Preus read in a diary her great-great-grandmother wrote as she traveled to America. Thirteen year-old narrator Asti is a complicated girl: brave, smart, difficult, angry, foolhardy, imaginative, and in the end, endearing. I dare you to read her story and not care deeply about her when you are done. Asti and her younger sister Greta have been stuck working for their aunt and uncle on their hardscrabble farm after their father has gone off to America, promising to send for them when he has the money. The girls’ lives are harsh and miserable; the lack of letters from their father makes it challenging to hold onto hope. But they do, Asti fiercely. But then, although it would seem to be impossible, things get worse. Asti is sold to a truly horrific goat man and this remarkable tale takes off from there. Swirling in and out of Asti’s narrative of her harsh life with the goat man, her escape, and her efforts to get to America with her Greta are the stories she tells, ones of folk, of enchantment, and of magic. Beautifully considered and written, I can’t recommend this book enough.
This is a well-researched weaving together of folk tale and history, and takes place at a time when a people ruled by superstitions and legends begin to perceive the world around them differently. Astri is one girl caught in the cross-hares of folk tale and reality, and finds herself in some very difficult situations no thanks to the adults in her life. Sold into slavery by her Aunt she sees herself as the subject of "East of the Sun, West of the Moon," but instead of a kind Abjorsen, she is in the power of an abusive man who plans to force her into a marriage. She uses familiar folk tales to explain her situation to herself and to help her to decide what to do next, but ultimately has to deal with considerable guilt for the outcome of some of those decisions. The story has a fairy tale quality to it, much like the many folk tales that it references, but it also deals with some very real human struggles and situations. I also enjoyed the Author's notes at the end, explaining some of the illnesses, superstitions and the migration craze that would have influenced someone growing up in this time, and includes pages from the diary of the Author's relatives who migrated from Norway to the US. Definitely one of the better Middle Grade books I have read this year, but probably not suitable for sensitive readers under 12.
From my review in the April 2014 issue of SLJ At its most basic, this is a tale about a girl escaping a poverty-stricken life in mid-19th century Norway. But from the beginning, the mystical and wondrous elements of Norwegian folktales are woven into the narrative, lending a timeless quality to a story inspired by the author’s family history. The harsh realities of that time period, from rickets to tetanus, take on a strange, magical, and often terrifying aspect, as seen through Astri’s naive eyes. She compares her servitude to Svaalberd with the story of White Bear King Valemon, who steals a young girl away, but really, Svaalberd is more like a troll to Astri. Folktales inspire the protagonist and allow her to imagine her own situation as a sort of legend—but in real life, actions have consequences. The decisions Astri makes to survive come to haunt her, and with her regret comes a new maturity, strength, and an ability to face her future in America. Enthralling and unflinching, this historical tale resonates with mythical undertones that will linger with readers after the final page is turned.
2.5 stars. Let me be clear: the reason I am giving this short novel such a low rating is because I, personally, did not enjoy it. I expected an adventure with magic mixed with Nordic mythology. However, what I received was a tale of a brave young girl who is sold into slavery, beaten, threatened with rape, doused with feces and urine, and hunted like an animal by a madman. If that had been the story I'd been promised, I would have entered into my reading with a different mindset & attitude. But somehow, even with all the violent happenings, the story manages to be BORING. There simply is not enough character development to appreciate the hardships the main character is enduring. It's disappointing.
If I were to read it again, with a different attitude, knowing what I was getting into, this book would probably receive a higher rating, but as it stands, I was severely disappointed.
Folklore weaves its way in and out of this historical fiction story about Astri, who is sold by her aunt to the goatman, Svaalberd, who uses her as nothing more than a slave. She finally escapes, taking the Spinning Girl and retrieving her sister, who almost suffers a worse fate than Astri. They head to America. This is a dark tale, and one that takes on the seedier side of history at times while still managing to maintain a whimsical children's storybook feel. I loved the Author's Note in the back that explains that Preus was inspired to write this book by her great-great-grandmother's diary. "Linka Preus was a young wife when she and her husband, Herman, a Lutheran pastor, sailed from Norway to America on the Columbus in 1851." This story is an exploration of all the questions Margi had about Linka's life. Fascinating!
Magical realism meets historical fiction in a lyrical story about two sisters. Inspired by Norwegian folk and fairy tales, Astri and Greta have a series of harrowing adventures until they are finally able to immigrate to America. Although not for the faint of heart, this is a not-to-be-missed story for readers who appreciate serious storytelling.
Ummmmm, not my favorite. Lots of Newbery buzz, and I can see why, but I can't think of a single child I would give it to who would enjoy it. Precisely why it will probably win the Newbery.
Astri's luck has just run out. Her aunt sells her to a cruel goat farmer in exchange for a few pennies and a cut of meat. She's separated from her sister, Greta, who is all alone now that their father has left for America to seek his fortune. Astri's life with the goatman is hard - she is forced to do the majority of the work and barely treated better than the goats. As she lives and works, she comes to realize that luck won't save her, only her sharp wits and perseverance will get her where she needs to be.
I thoroughly enjoyed this. Margi Preus is going to be visiting us this week to talk to East Grand Forks fifth graders so OF COURSE I had to read something she'd written. West of the Moon is what I want most fairy tale/folk tale retellings to be - a story firmly entrenched in reality, with main characters steeped in folklore, relating their experiences to battles with trolls, journeys to far away castles, and long lost sisters. I loved Astri and her determination and her journey. I can't recommend this highly enough to people who love folktale retellings, especially the East of the Sun West of the Moon ones.
I listened to this as an audiobook as many of the books I am “reading” right now are, as my attention span is currently that of a flea, and audiobooks help me to focus. I did enjoy west of the moon, but there were places where Astri’s character does and says things that are a little over the top. When I listened to the historical explanation after the book ended, it gave me a lot more respect for the story, however. The concept is sound. I like the idea of taking a historical person who immigrated to the United States and imagining what that story is like. I did like the Norwegian folktales that were interspersed throughout as well. There are several things that I would have changed if I were writing this book, but it was well done and worth at least one read.