Friday, June 29, 2007

Off and Running

Soto, Gary. 1996. Off and Running. Ill. by Eric Velasquez. New York: Delacorte. ISBN 0-385-32181-3.

Gary Soto's novel Off and Running captures protagonists Miata, Ana, Rudy, and Alex at a time in life that will resonate with a lot of readers - the stage when you can't believe how completely foreign the opposite sex is, and you can't figure out why you're so preoccupied with them either. Soto's characters are true to life and quickly seem like kids you might know. His descriptions of school and family life in a predominately Hispanic area include rich details, such as his narration of a quinceanera celebration.

Fifth-graders Miata and Ana are running against their schoolmates Rudy and Alex in the school elections. Miata wants to get rid of the graffiti and plant flowers to beautify the school. Rudy wants longer recess and more ice cream. The story unfolds through Miata's eyes as she plans her campaign and thinks about what she will do as president. Refreshingly, Soto avoids the overdone device of boys-against-girls and vice versa, and all four kids remain friends throughout the campaign, which ends in a way that satisfies everyone.

It's very clear why Soto is considered an exemplary author of multicultural children's books. The cultural markers in this story feel both abundant and authentic, from the music (Cielito Lindo and Donna) to the popularity of baseball and soccer. Hispanic characters are shown in a variety of occupations: the school principal, Miata's teacher, construction workers, a zookeeper, an elderly woman who used to be the mayor of her town in Mexico, and even the zookeeper's alter ego, a magician named Senor Gomez the Magnificent.

Erik Velasquez' illustrations are slightly dated, but that's something that can't be helped in realistic fiction. Soto's writing is often poetic, like when Miata eats an animal cracker shaped like a lion by putting "the lion to sleep on the bed of her pink tongue" (67).

I would read the first chapter of this book as a book talk and then give kids a chance to check it out. I think it's a story that would be very easy for kids of all ethnicities to appreciate.

Anne Connor said in School Library Journal, "This book offers an engaging look at student politics. But, more importantly, it is a realistic, warm portrayal of a Latino school in California: the kids, their families, and traditions. A humorous, light, good-natured story about everyday life in one community that will have great appeal for kids everywhere."

Connor, Anne. School Library Journal. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Off-Running-Gary-Soto/dp/0440414326/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-1796065-2716726?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1183145578&sr=1-1.

Dona Flor

Mora, Pat. 2005. Dona Flor. Ill. by Raul Colon. New York: Alfred A. Knopf. ISBN 0-375-82337-9.

Dona Flor is an original Latina character in the vein of traditional tall-tale heroes like Pecos Bill or Paul Bunyan. She's so tall that she can dig a riverbed with her thumb, hug the wind, and grab snow off a mountaintop to wash her face. When a puma is frightening the people and animals in her village, it's up to Dona Flor to do something. But because the puma is tricky and because Dona Flor has such a big heart, the solution isn't what readers might first expect.

Colon's illustrations in muted blues, yellows, and browns are a perfect match for this story, which seems like it could have come from a book today's great-grandparents enjoyed when they were children. The people in the illustrations are wearing what look like clothes from the 1800s - trousers and hats for the men, long skirts and rebozos for the women. The village buildings are adobe, and the landscape of mountains and mesas looks like it could be in New Mexico.

Although I loved the illustrations and the idea of the story, the story itself leaves something to be desired. Mora seems to be divided between telling the story of the puma hunt and just listing things that Dona Flor can do because she's so big. The effect is to make Dona Flor sound like she's not very bright, as she keeps stopping in her search for the puma that everyone is so scared of to do other things that don't seem to be nearly as important. Then she goes back to the search when she hears the puma again, as if she's forgotten all about it until it roars.

Even so, the story is heartwarming, the ending is a nice suprise, and Dona Flor is just as captivating a character as those in traditional tall tales.

There is no glossary for the interlingual Spanish words, but they are mostly either clear from context or repeated in English. The only other cultural markers are the building and clothing style and Dona Flor's tortillas. Its not clear whether all the villagers are Latino/a or whether some of them are Caucasians who speak Spanish. (And the animal characters aren't either one, although they speak Spanish too!)

In Booklist, Gillian Engberg says, "Mora strengthens her economical, poetic text with vivid, fanciful touches: the villagers use Flor's colossal homemade tortillas as roofs, for example. Colon's signature scratchboard art extends the whimsy and gentle humor in lovely scenes of the serene heroine sweet-talking the animals or plucking a star from the sky. A winning read-aloud, particularly for children who can recognize the intermittent Spanish phrases."

I do think this book would be fun to read out loud. If kids didn't recognize the Spanish, they could practice guessing the words from context. It would also be neat to use this book in a Spanish lesson, gradually replacing the English words with more and more Spanish words and retelling the story.

Engberg, Gillian. Booklist. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Dona-Flor-Belpre-Illustrator-Awards/dp/0375823379/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-1796065-2716726?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1183140911&sr=1-1.

Mice and Beans

Ryan, Pam Munoz. 2001. Mice and Beans. Ill. by Joe Cepeda. New York: Scholastic. ISBN 0-439-18303-0.

Rosa Maria is a sprightly Hispanic grandmother with red glasses and a beehive hairdo. She's busy getting her little house ready for her granddaughter's birthday party. The preparations take all week, and at every step something goes missing - a cloth napkin, Rosa Maria's favorite spoon, feathers from the pinata, a birthday candle, and lots of moustraps. Rosa Maria has set the traps because, as her mother always said, "Where there's room in the heart, there's room in the house, except for a mouse."

Where could everything be disappearing to? And who could have put the candy in the pinata when Rosa Maria forgot? The illustrations tell the story by showing us the mouse family that Rosa Maria hasn't noticed - including a grandmother mouse in a pink apron and red glasses. Finally, when the party is over, Rosa Maria discovers the mouse hole. And she remembers that her mother's dicho wasn't "except for a mouse" after all.

Both the story and the illustrations are upbeat and full of zest. Rosa Maria looks on the bright side no matter what happens. (When one of the seven birthday candles goes missing, she makes a number seven out of the six candles that are left.)
Cepeda's illustrations are colorful and often funny (the turkey pinata is always watching the action, and so is the person in a picture on the wall). And, of course, the illustrations add the subplot of the mouse family making their own party preparations. The illustration on the last page of the story seems like a punch line as we see inside the mouse hole and discover what's happened to Rosa Maria's missing items.

It's not clear exactly where the story takes place; Rosa Maria lives in a generic suburban house with a yard, although she shops at a bakery with adobe walls and a tile roof. The interlingual Spanish sounds natural, even when it is sometimes repeated in English; since Rosa Maria is talking to herself throughout the story, it sounds like she's just repeating herself for emphasis.

One of the best things about this book as multicultural literature is that it has a plot! Although Rosa Maria's granddaughter has a birthday party with a pinata, Ryan doesn't bring out the pinata symbol to illustrate the differences between Catalina's birthday and some ideal "regular American" birthday party. Instead, all the cultural markers in the story arise naturally as part of the plot and are treated as regular parts of life.

I would recommend this book to anyone looking to expand their collection of multicultural books. Although it could easily be displayed with other books by Hispanic authors, I would also display it with other books that have subplots going on in the pictures, like Detective Donut and the Wild Goose Chase.

Booklist says, "The story is charming, but what makes it special is the quiet authenticity of the Hispanic characterizations."

Booklist. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/gp/product/product-description/0439701368/sr=1-1/qid=1183139033/ref=dp_proddesc_0/104-1796065-2716726?ie=UTF8&n=283155&s=books&qid=1183139033&sr=1-1.

Sunday, June 24, 2007

Back Home

Pinkney, Gloria Jean. 1992. Back Home. Illustrated by Jerry Pinkney. New York: Dial. ISBN 0-8037-1169-7.

This warm, understated picture book tells the story of Ernestine, who takes a train to visit her aunt, uncle, and cousin in the country for the first time. She wants to prove herself to her cousin Jack, who teases her for not knowing about life on a farm. Before it’s time for Ernestine to leave, the two of them come to an understanding and it’s clear that Ernestine will be glad to return to the farm next summer.

The Pinkneys emphasize family ties, an important theme in African-American culture and literature. Although Ernestine has never visited these relatives before, she knows things about them (like the name of her uncle’s truck, Ole Lizzy) because she has heard stories about them, presumably from her mother. Ernestine reacts with pride and pleasure when she’s told that she looks like her grandmother. On the last day of her visit, the family goes to church and then takes Ernestine to put flowers on her grandmother’s grave.

Speech patterns reflect the rural south, such as “pulled the door to” for shutting the door and “give some sugar” for giving a kiss. The style of speech is consistent throughout the story, both in the sections of dialogue and in the narrator’s words, making it seem natural and authentic.

The book is full of Jerry Pinkney’s watercolor and colored-pencil illustrations, often taking up most of a two-page spread. Details in the pictures add depth to the story, such as the picture of Ernestine arriving at her aunt and uncle’s house barefoot, holding her fancy shoes; the luggage tag buttoned to her dress while she’s on the train, presumably because she’s a child traveling alone; the family portraits on the bedroom wall; and the picture of a beautiful ripe peach when Ernestine is helping her aunt can peaches.

The clothing in particular is very detailed and reflects the late 1930s or early 1940s down to the prints on the fabric of Aunt Beula’s dresses. The cover, showing an African-American Pullman porter helping Ernestine down from the train, is a nice touch that gently highlights the importance of this particular job at a time when it was one of the highest-paying jobs open to African-American men.

Shirley Wilton said in School Library Journal, “This is more a reminiscence than a plotted story, warm with Southern summer and family affection, a vignette of times gone by and roots rediscovered. Jerry Pinkney's full-page watercolors complement this account of a young girl's journey several decades ago. Their sketchy, impressionistic style softens the rural poverty and strengthens the genuine family feelings that greet Ernestine. Like Donald Crews's Bigmama's (Greenwillow, 1991), Back Home draws on personal history and celebrates the lives of an African-American family.”

I would display this book with Snapshots From the Wedding by Gary Soto, another warm family book from a different culture which also happens to have a lot going on in the illustrations!

Wilton, Shirley. School Library Journal. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Back-Picture-Books-Gloria-Pinkney/dp/0140565477/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1182712960&sr=1-1

The First Part Last

Johnson, Angela. 2003. The First Part Last. New York: Simon Pulse. ISBN 0-689-84923-0.

The First Part Last is a brilliant book that completely deserves its Printz Award and Coretta Scott King Award. The main event that drives the plot is the discovery by the narrator, Bobby, that his girlfriend is pregnant. This is the part of the review where I would normally discuss how well the author handles the difficult subject, but what makes this book so excellent is that Johnson never makes you feel like she’s “handling” a “subject” at all – she’s telling a story about people, people who feel real and who react in ways that reflect their unique characters.

Bobby, at sixteen, is raising his infant daughter Feather. There are plenty of people who want to help – from his father and older brother to his former baby-sitter who now sits for his daughter. But as his mother points out, Bobby is the one who’s ultimately responsible for Feather, and that means that Bobby has to grow up quickly. There’s the requisite talk about how tired Bobby is and how Feather manages to pee the minute after he’s changed her diaper. But Johnson also captures the intense bond between Bobby and his daughter. Bobby says, “I’ve never been closer to or loved anybody more than I love Feather” (96), and we know it’s true.

The book is divided into short sections titled “Then” and “Now.” Roughly, “Then” is before Feather’s birth and “Now” is afterward, although it’s a little confusing at first, especially if (like me) you tend to skip chapter titles. And when then and now converge at Feather’s birth near the end of the novel, the rest of the story takes on even deeper meaning.

Johnson's cultural markers seem to me to be authentic and accurate, from the descriptions of Bobby's neighborhood (ethnic restaurants of all kinds, people calling to each other in the street late at night when the clubs close) to the main characters (his girlfriend's cowrie-shell bracelet). Among the characters there is a diversity of occupations and income levels.

Bobby's narrative reads as if he's talking, using "'cause" for "because" and "hangin'" for "hanging." It sounds natural and unforced.

The only thing I didn’t like about this book was the back jacket blurb on my copy. It described Bobby as “a classic urban teenager.” It made me think of a pastor I used to work for who pointed out to me whenever he thought that white people were using “urban” as code for “black.” “For instance,” I remember he said once to a white pastor whose church was all white, “your church is an urban church.”

“Oh, no,” the other pastor said, looking flustered. “My church isn’t urban.”

“It’s in the middle of town,” my pastor said. “’Urban’ means pertaining to a city. It doesn’t mean ‘black.’”

I can’t imagine the person who wrote the back jacket copy on my book describing Mia Thermopolis of the Princess Diaries books as an “urban teenager,” even though she lives in the middle of New York City. Since I’m sure Angela Johnson wasn’t responsible for the jacket copy, this one false note doesn’t reflect on the excellent story of The First Part Last.

Because I really liked the front cover picture – a young man in dreadlocks holding a baby – I think I would use this book to start a discussion about book jackets and how well or badly they work as advertisements for the book inside. I would definitely include the jackets for Megan Whalen Turner’s excellent Thief trilogy. (A recent Horn Book article pointed out that while the text indicates that the characters have dark skin and Turner says she pictures them looking like Sherpas, the people in the cover art are definitely Caucasian.)

In School Library Journal, Miranda Doyle said this novel was “brief, poetic, and absolutely riveting,” but thought that the plot twist revealed toward the end was “melodramatic.”

Doyle, Miranda. School Library Journal. Qtd. In Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/First-Part-Last-Angela-Johnson/dp/0689849230/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1182707377&sr=1-1.

Wednesday, June 20, 2007

The Land

Taylor, Mildred. 2001. The Land. New York: Penguin Putnam. ISBN 0-8037-1950-7.

The Land is a prequel to Taylor's Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry. It tells the story of the childhood and young adulthood of Paul-Edward Logan, Cassie Logan's grandfather. According to the author's note, many elements of Paul-Edward's life are also taken from the real life of Taylor's great-grandfather.

In the rural south just afer the Civil War, Paul-Edward's father is a white landowner; his mother was one of his father's slaves and continues to work for him now that she is free. Unlike many children born in the same circumstances, Paul-Edward is raised and educated more or less alongside his half brothers who are white - but it is clear that he is not considered their equal. (He calls his father "Mr. Edward," and lives in his mother's cabin rather than his father's house.) As Paul-Edward grows, he recognizes the impact of racism even within his own family, and finally he strikes out on his own to make his own life.

The novel divides naturally into two sections: Paul-Edward's childhood years, in which he comes to terms with his identity and how society views him, and his early adulthood in which he must use all the wits and skills he has developed to get by in a hostile world. As the title suggests, the thread that ties the plot together is Paul-Edward's love of the land and his desire to own land of his own.

Taylor makes sure that the reader, like Paul-Edward, faces the fact that in the world she depicts, racism isn't just a matter of whether one individual likes another. While all the characters make choices about how to act, Taylor also portrays racism as an institution that limits the choices any individual, black or white, can make. There are clear good guys and bad guys here, but there are also many shades of gray.

This isn't an easy book to read, but it's compelling. I would use it in a parent-child book group, because I think parents would have as much to say about Paul-Edward's mother and father as kids would have to say about him. There's a lot of food for thought and discussion in this wonderful book.

The Land won the Coretta Scott King award and was one of Amazon.com's Best of 2001. Publisher's Weekly said, "Like any good historian, Taylor extracts truth from past events without sugarcoating issues. Although her depiction of the 19th-century South is anything but pretty, her tone is more uplifting than bitter. Rather than dismissing hypocrisies, she digs beneath the surface of Paul-Edward's friends and foes, showing how their values have been shaped by social norms.... Taylor fans should hasten to read this latest contribution to the Logan family history, and newcomers will eagerly lap this up and plunge into the author's other titles."

Publisher's Weekly. Qtd. in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Land-Mildred-D-Taylor/dp/0142501468/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/102-5676480-3776938?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1182379395&sr=1-1 .

Sunday, June 10, 2007

The Shadows of Ghadames

Stolz, Joelle. 1999. The Shadows of Ghadames. New York: Delacorte. ISBN 0-385-73104-3.

Malika is a twelve-year-old Berber girl living in Libya in the late 1800s. She is ambivalent about growing up and following upper-class women’s traditions, which dictate that she must never again leave her house - except to visit with other women in the separate women’s city that is formed by the rooftops of everyone’s houses. When the women of her household shelter an injured man, he teaches her to read. In the process Malika comes to realize that there are many ways to travel and that some of them will be open to her as long as she chooses them to be.

Stolz’ description of the rooftops of Ghadames is vivid and appealing. She avoids easy moralizing about the place of women in society; one of the things I appreciated about the book is that the author presents various views on the subject, all held by likeable women who we can respect.

It’s unclear from the text that this story takes place in the nineteenth century, which I suppose is realistic; it’s not as if real people normally go around announcing what century it is. However, I wish that Stolz had found a way to give us that information, because without reading the author’s note at the end, readers will find it easy to think that this is a description of how people live in Libya today.

I was particularly glad to read this book because I knew so little about the culture already. When I read historical novels set in periods and places I know more about, I don’t have to rely so much on cues in the text; this book reminded me of the strategies kids will need to find meaning in context when they’re reading about unfamiliar times and places.

In Booklist, Gillian Engberg writes, “The story of an outsider who unsettles a household and helps a young person to grow is certainly nothing new, and some of the lessons here are purposeful. But Stolz invigorates her tale with elegant prose and a deft portrayal of a girl verging on adolescence. The vivid backdrop is intoxicating, but the story's universal concerns will touch readers most: sibling jealously, confusion about adult customs, and a growing interest in a world beyond family.”

I agree with what Engberg says about the universal themes of this novel. I think this would be a great book for discussion in a class or book club for that reason. Especially in a diverse group of kids, everyone could learn about what’s universal about growing up and what’s particular to various cultures and time periods.

Engberg, Gillian. Booklist. Qtd in Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Shadows-Ghadames-Joelle-Stolz/dp/0440419492/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-8764502-2619128?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1181334582&sr=1-1.

Friday, June 8, 2007

Danny the Champion of the World

Dahl, Roald. 1975. Danny The Champion of the World. New York: Puffin. ISBN 0-14-032873-4.

Danny and his father have been everything to each other since Danny’s mother died when he was a baby. Telling bedtime stories, making kites and balloons, Danny’s father is, in his words, “the most marvelous and exciting father any boy ever had” (8). The warm, loving relationship they share doesn’t change a bit when Danny discovers his father’s secret hobby: poaching the pheasants off the estate of their rich and nasty neighbor. Danny comes to his father’s rescue, first saving him from discovery and then thinking of a plan that makes the people in town hail him as “the champion of the world.”

This book isn’t as well known as Charlie and the Chocolate Factory or James and the Giant Peach. Fans of those books will find the resourceful Danny to be reminiscent of Dahl’s other protagonists, although they might be surprised that this book is realistic fiction and not fantasy. The plot allows for plenty of adventure, and, in case any adults reading it miss the point, Dahl includes a postscript: “A stodgy parent is no fun at all! What a child wants – and deserves – is a parent who is SPARKY!” (198)

Because the book is over thirty years old, young American readers might be confused about which unfamiliar elements are due to its setting in England and which are due to its age. But the details of hunting (and poaching) pheasant and trout - and everything Danny’s father, “a true countryman,” teaches him about the English countryside – are likely to be new and therefore interesting to urban and suburban readers. And the descriptions of food – roasted pheasant with bacon and breadsauce, meat pie with hard-boiled eggs in it, and “toad in the hole” – are dramatic enough to inspire intrepid cooks to look up recipies so they can try them too.

Although this book is technically about an illegal prank, the impression I was left with was of the wonderful loving relationship between Danny and his father. The Association of Children’s Librarians said that this book “leaves the reader with a warm, cozy feeling,” and I agree.

I think this would be a great book to read aloud a chapter at a time. I would also display it with other “sparky parent” books like Down the Dragon’s Tongue by Margaret Mahy and Skateboard Mom by Barbara Odanaka.

(Review quote from book jacket)

Thursday, June 7, 2007

Hunwick's Egg

Fox, Mem. 2005. Hunwick’s Egg. Illustrated by Pamela Lofts. San Diego, California: Harcourt, 2005. ISBN 0-15-216318-2.

Hunwick is a rabbit-eared bandicoot. He inhabits a desert landscape with other native Australian animals like the emu and the echidna. But he’s apparently a little lonely, because when a storm turns up a beautiful egg, he takes it home, cares for it, and waits for it to hatch. All the other animals worry about what will happen next. Fortunately, Hunwick loves his egg just the way it is.

As far as the plot goes, this story could take place anywhere, with different animals taking the roles. (In fact, Tad Hills’ Duck and Goose is similar.) What makes the story a fun introduction to another country for American students is the beautiful artwork by Lofts, depicting Australian flora and fauna and landscapes. Although the animals are anthropomorphized a little, anyone who saw Lofts’ watercolors would easily be able to recognize the real creatures they correspond to. (Certainly Hunwick bears little resemblance to the bright orange Crash Bandicoot of videogame fame, the only other fictional bandicoot the audience is likely to be familiar with!)

I didn’t think Fox’s story was outstanding in itself. The ending made me think of the old adage “Show, don’t tell”: I wanted to see Hunwick figuring out that his “egg” wasn’t going to hatch instead of just being told that he had. Still, the illustrations lift this book above the typical and make it fun and worthwhile.

In School Library Journal, Linda Walkins says, “This slightly offbeat story with a universal message about the power of friendship is accompanied by glowing watercolor pencil illustrations in orange, pink, and violet tones that showcase the flora and fauna of the Australian landscape, adding an interesting element to this charming title.”

I would display this book with Caroline Arnold’s Australian Animals so that people who enjoyed the story could find out more about the real animals that populate it.

Walkins, Linda. School Library Journal. Qtd. In Amazon.com. http://www.amazon.com/Hunwicks-Egg-Mem-Fox/dp/0152163182/ref=pd_bbs_sr_1/104-8764502-2619128?ie=UTF8&s=books&qid=1181252122&sr=1-1.