Lowry, Lois, read by Ron Rifkin. 2001. The Giver. Listening Library. ISBN: 080726203X.
The Giver is not only an excellent story but also an example of what youth fantasy can be at its best: a guide for life that illuminates the way ahead through the power of imagination.
Jonas lives in a well-ordered society in which the elderly are respected, children are cared for, and no one goes hungry. He believes, as everyone seems to, that following the rules of his community is the most reasonable way to live. Then he turns twelve and is given his adult job – to hold all the memories of times past as the Reciever.
He learns from the former Reciever – now called the Giver – both by experiencing memories of the past and by observing what really goes on around him in the community every day. What he discovers changes him to the point that he must choose between what his society has created and what they’ve given up.
I think that part of the reason this book is so powerful and so popular is that even though the story is fantasy, Jonas’ experience is what many sensitive kids go through at about his age. Jonas’ discovery of the dark side of his society is not so different from our kids’ finding out about the dark side of our own. It can seem as crazy to our kids that the adults in their lives don’t do more about our problems - or at least act more outraged about them - as it does to Jonas that his parents accept what he comes to see as unacceptable in his culture. Of course, growing up is about recognizing our limitations as well as about confronting our problems. Part of what’s so wonderful about this book is that kids can see themselves in Jonas’ journey and, through fiction, begin to think about what they can and should do in their own lives.
Ron Rifkin’s narration of this audiobook was only average. He seemed to stumble over his words a few times. And while it’s terrific when a narrator is actually a voice actor talented enough to give each character a different voice (here I’m thinking of Jim Dale’s wonderful narrations of the Harry Potter audiobooks), I don’t think there’s anything wrong with not doing that if you can’t pull it off. Rifkin’s attempts made Jonas sound whiny and the Giver sound like he had a cold.
Although I wasn’t crazy about the audiobook version of this title, I definitely think The Giver should be in every children’s collection. After I found out that Lowry’s sequel Messenger continued the story of Jonas, I checked it out and read it too, and I thought it was excellent. I would display Lowry’s trilogy together - The Giver, Gathering Blue, and Messenger – because I think there are other people besides me who read The Giver when it was first published and don’t realize that it’s part of a trilogy.
AudioFile says, “Winner of the 1994 Newbery Award, Lowry's story sparks emotion and response from adults and children alike. This is a compelling prospect for family listening.”
AudioFile. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/080726203X/sr=1-1/qid=1177340662/ref=dp_proddesc_0/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1177340662&sr=1-1.
Monday, April 23, 2007
Wednesday, April 18, 2007
TWU Student Research Symposium
I have a poster presentation at the TWU Student Research Symposium today, and I've included the URL of this blog so that people can leave questions or comments here! (The presentation itself is here.)
Tuesday, April 17, 2007
Kira-Kira
Kadohata, Cynthia, read by Elaina Erika Davis (2005). Kira-Kira. Listening Library. ISBN 978-0307281869.
I wanted to like this book much more than I did, not least because the audiobook narration by Elaina Erika Davis was hands-down the best of any of the audiobooks I’ve listened to this semester. Davis gets right into the head of point-of-view character Katie – her rapturous intonation of the name of the (imaginary) love of Katie’s life, one Joe-John Abondondalarama, cracks me up every time – and she seems caught up in the story as she does things like give Katie and her sister progressively stronger southern accents as they spend more time in Georgia. She even sings a lullabye in Japanese.
Unfortunately, the story doesn’t live up to Davis’ narration. It’s not a horrible story. A lyrical reflection on growing up in a loving Japanese-American family in the 1950s, it’s full of Katie’s often funny asides, her older sister Lynn’s zest for life, and a supporting cast of well-rounded characters.
But there’s no plot. Any number of things seem as if they could be the conflict around which a plot will coalesce - the family’s efforts to save enough money to buy a house, Lynn’s worsening illness – but it never happens. Katie is a passive recorder of impressions rather than an active main character. And not only that, but she doesn’t even seem to be aware which events are important. Case in point: Lynn has been rushed to the hospital and Katie’s aunt and uncle have come to stay with her. They play Scrabble to pass the time until a phone call from the hospital causes her aunt to burst into tears. Not only does Katie give more air time to her attempts to spell a word with her letters than she does to Lynn, she never wonders either aloud or internally why her aunt is crying. Of course, denial is a common reaction to a family member’s illness. But a novel in which the narrator stays in denial right up to the end seems more appropriate for a grown-ups’ book club than for middle-grade readers.
Some adults might find this book interesting for its portrayal of a time and place. I maintain that most kids want plot – which includes a protagonist who’s actively engaged in making things happen, whether the protagonist is a child or an adult. Reflective memoirs looking back on childhood and analyzing the events are the province of adult readers who think of childhood as something to analyze, rather than kids who are busy living it.
In School Library Journal, Barbara Wysocki writes, “This novel has the immediacy of an autobiographical account of love and loss and presents insightful glimpses of questionable labor practices and post-World War II discrimination against Japanese-Americans. Most important, it will be meaningful for individual listeners, useful for classroom discussions, and an asset in school and public library collections.” While I agree about the insights into discrimination and unfair labor practices, I wouldn’t highlight this book in a youth collection.
School Library Journal. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Kira-Cynthia-Kadohata/dp/0307281868/ref=ed_oe_a/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&qid=1176842448&sr=1-1
I wanted to like this book much more than I did, not least because the audiobook narration by Elaina Erika Davis was hands-down the best of any of the audiobooks I’ve listened to this semester. Davis gets right into the head of point-of-view character Katie – her rapturous intonation of the name of the (imaginary) love of Katie’s life, one Joe-John Abondondalarama, cracks me up every time – and she seems caught up in the story as she does things like give Katie and her sister progressively stronger southern accents as they spend more time in Georgia. She even sings a lullabye in Japanese.
Unfortunately, the story doesn’t live up to Davis’ narration. It’s not a horrible story. A lyrical reflection on growing up in a loving Japanese-American family in the 1950s, it’s full of Katie’s often funny asides, her older sister Lynn’s zest for life, and a supporting cast of well-rounded characters.
But there’s no plot. Any number of things seem as if they could be the conflict around which a plot will coalesce - the family’s efforts to save enough money to buy a house, Lynn’s worsening illness – but it never happens. Katie is a passive recorder of impressions rather than an active main character. And not only that, but she doesn’t even seem to be aware which events are important. Case in point: Lynn has been rushed to the hospital and Katie’s aunt and uncle have come to stay with her. They play Scrabble to pass the time until a phone call from the hospital causes her aunt to burst into tears. Not only does Katie give more air time to her attempts to spell a word with her letters than she does to Lynn, she never wonders either aloud or internally why her aunt is crying. Of course, denial is a common reaction to a family member’s illness. But a novel in which the narrator stays in denial right up to the end seems more appropriate for a grown-ups’ book club than for middle-grade readers.
Some adults might find this book interesting for its portrayal of a time and place. I maintain that most kids want plot – which includes a protagonist who’s actively engaged in making things happen, whether the protagonist is a child or an adult. Reflective memoirs looking back on childhood and analyzing the events are the province of adult readers who think of childhood as something to analyze, rather than kids who are busy living it.
In School Library Journal, Barbara Wysocki writes, “This novel has the immediacy of an autobiographical account of love and loss and presents insightful glimpses of questionable labor practices and post-World War II discrimination against Japanese-Americans. Most important, it will be meaningful for individual listeners, useful for classroom discussions, and an asset in school and public library collections.” While I agree about the insights into discrimination and unfair labor practices, I wouldn’t highlight this book in a youth collection.
School Library Journal. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Kira-Cynthia-Kadohata/dp/0307281868/ref=ed_oe_a/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&qid=1176842448&sr=1-1
Tuesday, April 10, 2007
Looking for Alaska
Green, John (2005). Looking For Alaska. New York: Puffin (reprint). ISBN 978-0142402511.
I had read John Green’s newest book, An Abundance of Katherines, before I started Looking for Alaska, so I expected Looking for Alaska to feature witty, literate teens thinking deeply about their place in the world. (John Green might have honed his skill for dialogue by working, as he does, on NPR’s All Things Considered.) It does: Miles (nicknamed “Pudge” because he’s skinny) and the friends he makes at the coed boarding school he decides to attend at the start of the novel. But Miles and his crew have a darker story to tell, one that’s full of the allure of the forbidden, whether it’s smoking or alcohol or sex.
The title explains the plot of the story; Alaska Young is one of Miles’ classmates, enigmatic, attractive, and with her own dark past. Looking for the real Alaska behind her moods and masks becomes more and more critical to Miles as the story goes on, until he and his friends are forced to create their own bittersweet resolution in the absence of the answers they seek.
I suppose that YA books don’t have to have believable adult characters; I’m not sure I thought real adults were believable until I was in my twenties. Still, if I could change one thing about this book it would be the way the adults are portrayed. Except for one touching moment of humanity, the principal is an over-the-top tough-guy caricature who seems to exist to provide a target of opportunity for Miles and his friends. Miles’ religion teacher is the sarcastic-but-caring crusty academic straight from central casting, and he seems to exist to give the author a reason (and Miles a vocabulary) to bring themes from the world religions into the story. Even if Miles himself (who is the narrator) doesn’t see the adults as three-dimensional characters, I would have appreciated some hints that there’s more to them than Miles thinks.
There are funny moments – usually comic asides delivered by one or the other of the characters. Overall, though, Green captures a certain way of looking at the world in adolescence – the slightly frantic, claustrophobic feeling that the only possible time to figure out who you are and what life is about is right now, before you turn into one of those alien adults.
This book won the Michael Printz Award and a host of other honors, including being named to ALA Best Books, The New York Public Library’s Books for the Teen Age, and School Library Journal Best Books. It was also an ALA Quick Pick for reluctant YA readers. And thanks to An Abundance of Katherines, Publisher’s Weekly no longer has to worry about its review, which said, “Readers will only hope that this is not the last word from this promising new author.”
I’d use this book with other Printz Award winners in a display to highlight the award, which I think is still not as well known as the Newbery or Caldecott. I might do something like the San Antonio Public Library main branch does in their youth area – poster-sized book talks on the walls with color reproductions of the books’ covers. Having a paragraph-long blurb describing the book seems to pique kids’ interest more than just having the book on display.
Amazon.com. “Looking for Alaska.” Accessed April 10, 2007 from http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/B000BPG2ME/sr=1-1/qid=1176231693/ref=dp_proddesc_0/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1176231693&sr=1-1 .
Publisher’s Weekly. Qtd in Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/B000BPG2ME/sr=1-1/qid=1176231693/ref=dp_proddesc_0/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1176231693&sr=1-1 .
I had read John Green’s newest book, An Abundance of Katherines, before I started Looking for Alaska, so I expected Looking for Alaska to feature witty, literate teens thinking deeply about their place in the world. (John Green might have honed his skill for dialogue by working, as he does, on NPR’s All Things Considered.) It does: Miles (nicknamed “Pudge” because he’s skinny) and the friends he makes at the coed boarding school he decides to attend at the start of the novel. But Miles and his crew have a darker story to tell, one that’s full of the allure of the forbidden, whether it’s smoking or alcohol or sex.
The title explains the plot of the story; Alaska Young is one of Miles’ classmates, enigmatic, attractive, and with her own dark past. Looking for the real Alaska behind her moods and masks becomes more and more critical to Miles as the story goes on, until he and his friends are forced to create their own bittersweet resolution in the absence of the answers they seek.
I suppose that YA books don’t have to have believable adult characters; I’m not sure I thought real adults were believable until I was in my twenties. Still, if I could change one thing about this book it would be the way the adults are portrayed. Except for one touching moment of humanity, the principal is an over-the-top tough-guy caricature who seems to exist to provide a target of opportunity for Miles and his friends. Miles’ religion teacher is the sarcastic-but-caring crusty academic straight from central casting, and he seems to exist to give the author a reason (and Miles a vocabulary) to bring themes from the world religions into the story. Even if Miles himself (who is the narrator) doesn’t see the adults as three-dimensional characters, I would have appreciated some hints that there’s more to them than Miles thinks.
There are funny moments – usually comic asides delivered by one or the other of the characters. Overall, though, Green captures a certain way of looking at the world in adolescence – the slightly frantic, claustrophobic feeling that the only possible time to figure out who you are and what life is about is right now, before you turn into one of those alien adults.
This book won the Michael Printz Award and a host of other honors, including being named to ALA Best Books, The New York Public Library’s Books for the Teen Age, and School Library Journal Best Books. It was also an ALA Quick Pick for reluctant YA readers. And thanks to An Abundance of Katherines, Publisher’s Weekly no longer has to worry about its review, which said, “Readers will only hope that this is not the last word from this promising new author.”
I’d use this book with other Printz Award winners in a display to highlight the award, which I think is still not as well known as the Newbery or Caldecott. I might do something like the San Antonio Public Library main branch does in their youth area – poster-sized book talks on the walls with color reproductions of the books’ covers. Having a paragraph-long blurb describing the book seems to pique kids’ interest more than just having the book on display.
Amazon.com. “Looking for Alaska.” Accessed April 10, 2007 from http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/B000BPG2ME/sr=1-1/qid=1176231693/ref=dp_proddesc_0/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1176231693&sr=1-1 .
Publisher’s Weekly. Qtd in Amazon.com http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/B000BPG2ME/sr=1-1/qid=1176231693/ref=dp_proddesc_0/103-0423122-5982232?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1176231693&sr=1-1 .
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