Daniel Boone

Daniel Boone, a biography by James Daugherty, won the Newbery in 1940. It's one of the few Medal winners that is currently out-of-print, and is consequently somewhat expensive and may be hard to obtain. Many libraries do have old copies of it (my copy, one of two from the small Saline District Library is copyright 1962; I noticed that the much larger neighboring Ann Arbor District system only has one copy, which is on permanent reserve in the Reference Collection).

I hate to say it, but I'm glad this book is out-of-print. It has replaced The Matchlock Gun (1942) and The White Stag (1938) as my least favorite of the thirty-six Newbery books I've read so far. I thought that the story and the descriptions (with the exception of the casual racism) were actually very well done in The Matchlock Gun, and the artwork was gorgeous in The White Stag, but I couldn't find any such redeeming qualities in Daniel Boone.

James Daugherty did the many illustrations (as well the cover and the text) in Daniel Boone, and although I like WPA-era murals and posters in general, I found the pictures in Boone just plain creepy. The green and brown coloring on the black & white outline drawings just added to the general fugliness of his strangely contorted figures. It's like they all have bowling balls under their clothes, and even the illustrations that don't show wickedly muscular Indians terrorizing cowering settler maidens are weirdly unsettling.

The Newbery Companion (a book that is almost entirely readable and searchable through GoogleBooks) suggests here that Daniel Boone is appropriate for Grades 5-9. (Amazon's assigned reading level of "Baby-Preschool" is obviously an error). I think that kids this age would be mostly bored by Daugherty's ode to Manifest Destiny, which is full of flowery passages like this:

So Daniel Boone grew lean and strong with his toes in the good black dirt, with the ring of the anvil in his ears, strong and sure-handed with tools and guns, and his head as clear and cool as the hillside spring above his cabin home (p. 14).

He had often dreamed of a way, some river trail or hidden pass that would lead surely over the mountains to the unknown plains. It might be the gateway to a new America, a fabulous western world with a destiny of glory like the towering storm clouds in a fiery sunset (p. 27).

The lives of these movers on the Wilderness Road and forest settlers were a rough and violent saga full of lights and shadows, sweet and bitter as the wild persimmon, rough and tough as the shag-barked hickories, fierce and tender as the tall waving corn of the valleys (p. 52).

The following passage, where Daugherty writes about Daniel Boone's first biography, (written by a schoolteacher named John Filson, who interviewed Boone and published his account when Boone was 50 in 1784) is particularly ironic in light of Daugherty's own choice of language:

What a story he must have heard! Mr. Filson embalmed it in elegant language and dullness and reflections on the beauties of nature (p. 80).

Daugherty's biography rests very lightly on the historical facts. I was frustrated at the beginning by not even being able to figure out exactly what time period the book was set in (no Googling until I finished!) - not until page 26 (over a quarter of the way through the book) is a date even mentioned. And then you realize that it's 1765, and that Boone must have been born at least a couple of decades before this (as a matter of fact, Daniel Boone was born in 1734 and died in 1820).

The French & Indian War and the American Revolution are never mentioned as the primary causes of the Native/English/American violence repeatedly described in Daniel Boone. The reader is left with the idea that the "bloody tales of massacre, torture, and desperate escapes" (p. 38), as Daugherty puts it, are probably due to the nature of the Indians, who are variously described as savage, savage demons, rats in the night, outlandish, infesting the woods, cat-eyed, and as doomed as the buffalo. One passage does also describe "The splendid copper-gleaming images of the dreaded Indian chieftains [that] emerged suddenly out of the dark green forest background" (p. 39).

But by far the most disturbing part of the book for me was the gratuitous inclusion of the following passage from The Autobiography of David Crockett - meant to illustrate the destruction of an Indian village, I guess:

We took them all prisoners that came out to us in this way; but I saw some warriors run into a house, until I counted forty-six of them. We pursued them until we got near the house, when we saw a squaw sitting in the door, and she placed her feet against the bow she had in her hand, and then took an arrow, and, raising her feet, she drew with all her might, and let fly at us, and she killed a man, whose name, I believe, was Moore. He was a lieutenant, and his death so enraged us all, that she was fired on, and had at least twenty balls blown through her. This was the first man I ever saw killed with a bow and arrow. We now shot them like dogs; and then set the house on fire, and burned it up with the forty-six warriors in it. I recollect seeing a boy who was shot down near the house. His arm and thigh was broken, and he was so near the burning house that the grease was stewing out of him. In this situation he was still trying to crawl along; but not a murmur escaped him, though he was only about twelve years old. So sullen is the Indian, when his dander is up, that he had sooner die than make a noise, or ask for quarters (p. 24-25).

So what age group is this appropriate reading for? I know I don't want my 11 year old to read that, especially when it is not portrayed as a particularly bad thing, but just as part of frontier life or as a characterization of "The Indian". This kind of violence may have been common in the 18th century, but I don't think it's something to be celebrated, or even casually mentioned in children's literature, as it is in Daugherty's Boone.*

Daugherty's graphic (pardon the pun) art is still controversial, by the way: check out this 2006 newspaper article on the display of one of his murals in an elementary school in Connecticut: Mural's Content May Stop Its Return to School.

In short, I was alternately bored, fairly disturbed, and annoyed by this book, and I don't think its shortcomings can be easily dismissed as a product of its time (especially when it is compared to other earlier winners, like Caddie Woodlawn, Call It Courage, and The Story of Mankind). I didn't even learn that much about Daniel Boone, except when I started searching for information online on sites like Daniel Boone: Myth and Reality in American Consciousness (an American Studies project at University of Virginia). I would recommend kids interested in learning more about Daniel Boone and Euro-American settlement in the Ohio River Valley look elsewhere. Almost anywhere else, in fact.



*I can see using that passage as part of a lesson like this one (for Grades 6-8, from the History Channel), but that's clearly not the situation here.

Time-Traveling with the Newbery Awards

is the title of an interesting article by Michelle F. Bayuk, who did what we're doing now: she read all of the Newbery winners. And it only took her twenty months!

I nodded and chuckled over her likes and dislikes, and wondered how I missed the bit about glaciers in The Story of Mankind. (I have to check that out next time I'm at the library).

I actually found this article while Googling for reviews and more information on my latest least favorite Newbery Award winner: James Daugherty's Daniel Boone (the 1940 medalist, on which Bayuk also made a few choice comments). But I'm going to save my comments on Daugherty's Boone for my review.

Dicey's Song by Cynthia Voight

I avoided this book for a long time because I had heard it was too upsetting for children. Yes, it is a sad book. And it might be too sad for some children. But there are lots and lots of children who would like to hear this story.

Dicey and her three siblings have come to live with their grandmother. Their mother is in a mental hospital; their father skipped out before Dicey’s youngest brother, Sammy, was born.

There are lots of problems to overcome. Dicey’s sister, Maybeth, isn’t learning like she should in school. James, Dicey’s brother, hides how smart he is in order to fit in. Sammy gets into fights. People talk about and tease the children about Gram. Dicey, like Gram, has learned to feign indifference.

The whole Tillerman clan slowly works on all these problems, talking together, singing together, making new friends, working, building a boat.

Now I’m anxious to see what my readers of realistic fiction at school think of this book.

Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse

Billie Jo and her parents are struggling to survive. There is no money. The farm has had no rain. Worst of all, storms are blowing across the land, raining dust on everything.

And then, in the midst of all the suffering, comes tragedy: Billie Jo’s mother and tiny baby brother die in a horrible accident. A difficult life becomes impossible.

A grim, bleak novel, yes, but a novel that has stayed with me since I first read it ten years ago, a novel that is just as good the second time as it was the first.

The Giver by Lois Lowry

Jonas lives in a perfect world. Everything in the world has been carefully planned and designed and carried out to make the world perfect. Each family has exactly one boy and one girl. All children get a bicycle at nine, no sooner, no later. At dinner, each family member brings up the feelings of the day; at breakfast, each family member relates his dreams. All families. Every day.

Twelve is the big year, the year each child will be assigned his job, the perfect job just for him. Jonas is eager, though perhaps a little anxious, to turn twelve and learn what his role in his society is to be.

He is shocked to learn that he is to become the Receiver of Memory, the one person in the society who holds all the memories, both good and bad, happy and sad, of the past in his head. He is given special privileges: he can ask any questions he wishes of anyone and he can lie. He studies with an old man, the former Receiver of Memory, a man who asks Jonas to now call the Giver.

And the Giver does given memories to Jonas: color, snow, the sky, families, pain, and – most powerfully – love.

As Jonas learns the black truths behind the perfect world he lives in, he and the Giver realize it is up to them to change this perfect world.

The Slave Dancer - 1974

The Slave Dancer by Paula Fox
Illustrations by Eros Keith


Pages: 176
First Published: 1973
Rating: 3/5

First Sentence:

In a hinged wooden box upon the top of which was carved a winged fish, my mother kept the tools of her trade.

Comments: Thirteen-year-old Jessie Bollier is kidnapped by sailors and taken to work upon their ship. Jessie learns that the ship is a slaver and is going to Africa to pick up slaves to take back to Cuba. Jessie's purpose on the ship is to be the 'slave dancer', he will play his flute, while the slaves are made to dance so as to keep their muscles fit. This was an okay book. The first half of the book is an intriguing look at life at sea and the characters are interesting. The second half of the book deals with the slave trade and the horrors of such are not sugar-coated and it is a compelling read. However, the writing just didn't grab me all the much. The characters lacked vitality. It was interesting but not one that will leave a lasting impression. Also, I must say I was not impressed with the illustrations at all. They are full of shadows, lack details and very vague. Ultimately, a good, but not great, book.

Out of the Dust by Karen Hesse

1998 Newbery Winner

The dust bowl is hard for Billie Jo and her family, but they still have each other, and Billie Jo can lose herself by playing the piano. Then an accident occurs, and everything changes. Bereft of so many things important to her, Billie Jo struggles to deal with the circumstances she finds herself in.

The word that comes to mind when I think of this book is “raw”.

I don’t mean like unpolished, or any of that stuff. I mean, it almost hurts to read it. None of the words are wasted, and as such, they pack a powerful enough punch to knock you down. The emotions aren’t excessive, but they’re so undiluted that they sort of take your breath away.

I’m slightly allergic to books written free verse. After all, why write a book with all those funny little lines when you could just put them in perfectly nice paragraphs? Much more organized. I won’t say that this book won me over to free verse, but I will say that I don’t think this book would have been nearly as good had it not been written in free verse. So if you, like me, are a little worried about the format of this book, I would give it a try anyway. I think most would like it.

(By the way, this is my first post here. Hi everyone!)

The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron

In light of the controversy surrounding this Newbery pick of 2007, I'd like to add this subtitle: "The Curious Incident of the Dog with the Scrotum Bite." A story about a girl named Lucky living in the desert of California, and how she deals with growing up, losing her mother, knowing her father does not want her, and worrying that her guardian is going to leave her and move to Paris, gets overshadowed by the reference on page one of a dog's scrotum bitten by a rattlesnake. I have to admit, the first page caught me off guard, but more so because of the story surrounding the tragic (though insignificant) snake bite. I completely agree with Kristen McLean of Pixie Stix Kids Pix:

"I can’t help but notice with amusement that no one has objected to another passage in the first chapter of the book that involves a man “who had drunk half a gallon of rum listening to Johnny Cash all morning in his parked ‘62 Cadillac, then fallen out of the car when he saw a rattlesnake on the passenger seat…” Apparently rum, drunkenness, and poor taste in automobiles have nothing on scrotums when it comes to getting people in a moral outrage. (I can’t criticize the Johnny Cash. I love Johnny Cash.)"

I did wonder exactly what audience she was trying to reach. As a self-proclaimed quirkophile, I thought I would enjoy the quirkiness of the characters, but I found myself switching from the audio book to the radio a lot and waiting anxiously for the story to end. In a possible defense of the book, when I listen to books in the car, it is very fragmented. I have four kids who go to three different schools, and I do daycare a few times a week for kids who go to yet another school. So the story gets broken up into about six or seven five-minute segments throughout the day. I can't help but wonder if I would have appreciated it more if I had sat down and read it all at once. As far as children, I have no idea if it would hold their attention at all. My 11-year-old son, who only heard bits and pieces, just described it as "weird," but I think that was after hearing about how Lucky puts mineral oil on her eyebrows to make them "glisten."
Overall, I just wasn't that impressed, and although I'm not quite in agreement with the author: “The word is just so delicious. The sound of the word to Lucky is so evocative. It’s one of those words that’s so interesting because of the sound of the word,” the scrotum and the controversy were the only exciting aspects of this children's novel.

P.S.-Sorry if the text is annoying--this is the way I do it on my blog, and I just copied it from there and was too lazy to resize the phrases!

Kira-Kira by Cynthia Kadohata

Cross posted at The Well-Read Child

2005 Newbery Medal Book

Genre: Young Adult Fiction
Reading level: Ages 10-14
Paperback: 272 pages
Publisher: Aladdin (December 26, 2006)

Kira-Kira is the story of the Japanese-American Takeshima family, told from the point of view of Katie, the youngest daughter. We learn in the opening passage of the story that Kira-Kira means “glittering” in Japanese, and that it was Katie’s first word, taught to her by her older sister Lynn. It’s obvious from the beginning that Katie adores Lynn.

Born in Iowa to Japanese immigrants, Katie and Lynn have a nice childhood, but everything changes when the family’s oriental food store goes out of business, and they move to Georgia to become factory workers in a poultry processing plant. It’s here that Katie realizes for the first time that she is different. Shunned by the white Georgians, the Japanese community in Georgia is tight knit, but life is very difficult. Katie and Lynn’s parents work extremely long hours under harsh conditions. Katie and Lynn rarely see their father, and when they do, he’s exhausted. Their mother is forced to wear “pads” because bathroom breaks are not allowed in the factory. When their baby brother, Sammy, is born, the girls and a next door neighbor pretty much raise him. Just when things can’t get worse, Lynn becomes very ill, and the family’s bonds are tested.

This heart wrenching story is one that I will soon not forget. Cynthia Kadohata expertly gets into the mind of a girl Katie’s age who has to deal with some very adult situations but does not quite understand them. An example of this is when Lynn is very ill, and despite appearing very strong and brave in front of Lynn, Katie needs a moment alone and breaks down:

“I cried and cried. For a while as I cried I hated my parents, as if it were their fault Lynn was sick. Then I cried because I loved my parents so much. Then I didn’t feel like crying anymore. I just felt barren, my eyes felt dry. They sky was still gray. Everything was gray, the sky and the store and even my hand when I held it out in front of myself. I wondered in anyone else in history had ever been as sad as I was at that moment” (p. 199).

We also see racism, prejudice, and the unfair treatment of the factory workers through Katie’s eyes. While some have criticized this book and being slow and uninteresting for young adults, it would have been right up my alley when I was younger. Certainly, it’s not for every kid and may appeal more to girls than boys, but it’s a story that I think will impact many. It was completely deserving of its 2005 Newbery Medal win.

Johnny Tremain (1944)

My spouse and I read this one aloud to our then-eight-year-old son. It was a great fit, both for him and for reading aloud.

The book's language is a little formal and dated. By that I mean Forbes uses constructions that were common in the late 1700s. Actually, I don't know if she researched it to use historically accurate language, but it's noticably different from contemporary writing (and from 1940's era writing), so I assume the effect was intentional.

Anyway, I think the language would have confused or alienated our son if he had been reading it on his own. Because we were reading it aloud, however, we could talk about what was happening and answer his questions as they arose. We all found that after a chapter or two, as often happens, the language felt more natural and less of an effort to understand. Then we were just able to enjoy the story.

It's a clever device Forbes uses: telling the story of the building pre-war tension and activities through the eyes of a boy living/apprenticing in Boston at the time. Interwoven with historical events (the tea party, Revere's midnight ride), is the equally dramatic story of Johnny's personal relationships. He worries about friends' safety as they hold illicit meetings. He has a crush on a girl from the aristocratic class. He struggles with the ethics of being a good English subject or a rebel.

It was a great adventure, a great piece of historical fiction and an overall great read.

This all came as a surprise to this reader, who is not a history fan or reader of boyish adventures.

Newbery Winners No One Has Reviewed

Won't someone take on the following titles? We still don't have a single review of:

Dicey's Song by Cynthia Voigt (1983)
Up a Road Slowly by Irene Hunt (1967)
Rifles for Watie by Harold Keith (1958)
Carry On, Mr. Bowditch by Jean Lee Latham (1956)
The Wheel on the School by Meindert DeJong (1955)
Rabbit Hill by Robert Lawson (1945)
Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes (1944)
Daniel Boone by James Daugherty (1940)
Waterless Mountain by Laura Adams Armer (1932)
Smoky, the Cowhorse by Will James (1927)
Shen of the Sea by Arthur Bowie Chrisman (1926)

Sounder by William Armstrong

My favorite Newbery so far. A story I want every child, every adult to read. A father (no proper nouns are ever used except for the name of the dog, Sounder) and his family are hungry. The weather makes hunting impossible. The father makes a decision to steal a ham for his children. But he is soon caught. When the men come to take the father to jail, they take a shot at Sounder and Sounder disappears. The father is sent to jail and then to work on a chain gang. For much of the book, the fate of neither Sounder nor the father is clear.

Number the Stars by Lois Lowry

Annemarie is living in dangerous times, Denmark, 1943, during the Nazi occupation. Soldiers line the streets and harass the citizens daily. One day, Annemarie’s family learns that the Nazis have decided to relocate the Jews living in Denmark. Annemarie’s best friend and her parents are suddenly forced to find a way to get out of Denmark. It is Annemarie and her family who are able to help.

This was an exciting adventure story with scary Nazis popping up on every page. I listened anxiously to find out whether Annemarie’s friends would manage to flee Copenhagen and sail across to safety in Sweden.

The Grey King by Susan Cooper

At last! I made it through a book in The Dark is Rising series…though, to do it, I had to listen to it on audiotape. This was the last book in the series. Somehow I felt like I was missing a lot by not reading the earlier books. I didn’t understand how Will came to know he was an Old One. What does it really mean to be an Old One? Were there earlier mentions of Arthur and Guinevere? What else did Will have to obtain other than the harp? What is the difference between the Dark and the Light? Were all of these or any of these addressed in the earlier books?

Will made for an interesting hero, part boy, part wise man. His path led him to Wales and to the young mysterious Braun. The story reveals that Braun was brought to our world by his mother, but we are left unclear about Braun’s origins and his place in the story until the very last pages of the book.

Animated Despereaux

Well, this is interesting - an animated movie of The Tale of Despereaux is in production (see IMDb blurb with actors here). It's not going to be out until next Christmas, though. Anyone seen any of the movies made out of other Newbery winners?

Roller Skates by Ruth Sawyer

“Who wanted to walk through lonely years, right foot, left foot, and never change step---never skip, run or skate?”

That’s Lucinda, an Anne-of-Green-Gables girl, filled with energy and enthusiasm, unexpectedly set loose in the city of New York. Lucinda’s parents head off to Europe for their health and Lucinda is left in the care of two very relaxed school teachers. She travels around New York City, befriending the poor and the lonely, on roller skates.

What a surprise to see a girl of the 1890’s, a society girl raised with all the Victorian rules and regulations stamped upon her, free to make friends with homeless men and battered wives of new immigrants and fruit sellers! I liked this book a lot. I wonder if Lucinda is able to keep her friends and her freedom once her parents have returned and regained control.

It's Like This, Cat by Emily Neville

Dave and his dad fight all the time and Dave’s mother gets sick. Dave brings home a cat who he appropriately names Cat. Cat helps Dave meet Tom and Mary and binds Dave and his parents into a real family.

I can remember reading this book when I was a young girl. I remember being confused about people who live in apartments (people do that?) and hearing a dad and his son argue all the time (a son is talking back to his dad and surviving?). I remember thinking Tom was an odd duck, a boy who was ignored by his family (does that really happen?) And the lingo the people speak, especially the young people, a dialect and vocabulary so different from my Texas lingo….This book took me right out of my little small-town world.

Invincible Louisa by Cornelia Miegs

I’ve often heard little stories about the Louisa of this book, Louisa May Alcott, but I’ve never read much real information about her. This is a biography of her life. Louisa grew up in a family determined to change the world by actively living their beliefs. She was best known as the author of Little Women.

As interesting to me as Louisa May Alcott was her father. Bronson Alcott was friends with every influential person of his time including Emerson, Thoreau, and Hawthorn. He barely made enough money to feed his children, yet he felt led to always give what little he had away to help others.

Louisa provided the only income the family had for much of her life. She worked doggedly as a writer between stints of work as a governess, a teacher, and a seamstress.

What a family!

Strawberry Girl by Lois Lenski

How could a child read this book and complain about her life in 21st century America? The two families in this book suffer from the ravages of grasshoppers, illness, hunger, and jealousy. They argue and fight with each other, eventually going so far as to kill each other’s animals and set fire to the other’s farmhouse. A hardscrabble life complete with rattlesnakes and alligators and swamps. Yet there was also a beauty to this life, of neighbors helping each other, even when they have little for themselves.

Do endings like this really happen in real life? Would modern children believe this ending?

Adam of the Road

Adam of the Road, by Elizabeth Janet Gray, is a classic road trip story. It's funny, because I'm reading Huckleberry Finn for my book club right now, and there are a lot of similarities - companions lost and found, unscrupulous wayfarers, country vs. city comparisons, and genuinely nice families that want to take a young boy in and teach him their craft and dress him appropriately. Adam is a lot less cynical than Huck, though, and blessed with a caring father, even if he loses him for part of the book.

Although I rather liked Adam of the Road, particularly for its descriptions of medieval life and the English countryside (and isn't it interesting that this is the second Newbery winner set in the 1200's in England? see Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! for a very different view of 13th century life), I have to disagree with Linda, who said that "the book contains plenty of action to keep a child interested" in her review here.

There have been some suspenseful Newbery winners that I could hardly put down (like Holes and Bud, Not Buddy). This wasn't one of them.

Adam of the Road reminded me a more of the 1924 winner, The Dark Frigate, which included an amble through the English countryside (along with the scenes set on a pirate ship). There is a plot, but I think it is pretty secondary to the scenery and the history. Which may make this a bit challenging for some kids to read (I can already hear my 11 year old son saying "It's soooo booo-ring").

I found it a relaxing and interesting read, but I'm not sure that is really enough for this award, if you know what I mean. Maybe there weren't many other choices for the Newbery Committee in 1943? The only Honors books for this year were Eleanor Estes' The Middle Moffat and Have You Seen Tom Thumb? by Mabel Leigh Hunt, which I haven't read but don't sound riveting, either. Maybe WWII put a crimp in children's book publishing.

Here's a couple examples of the descriptions that made the book worthwhile for me, anyway.

There was immense bustle and excitement within the walls of de Lisle House when the lord and lady and all their followers got there. The squires and maids went running about with perfumed and steaming baths, the grooms and stablemen were busy watering and bedding the horses; the carters unloaded the goods they had carried over so many miles. One cart had panes of glass in it, packed with the greatest care in layers of straw. Not many people had glass in their windows, but Sir Edmund did, beautiful glass, some of it painted, and he carried it from one of his houses to another as he traveled about (p. 65-66).

On the Great Hall of de Lisle house:

In the daytime the hall was the center of all the life of the household. On the dais at one end was the high table where the de Lisles and their guests ate, with their falcons sitting on perches on the wall behind and their dogs lying on the floor at their feet. In the center of the hall was the hearth, where on cold days a fire was lighted.

...At night, on the benches against against the wall, or even in the rushes on the floor, slept some of the men of the household. The porter slept there, for instance, and the clerk of the kitchen, an archer or two, and Roger and Adam and Nick (p. 86).

In short, if your kids aren't addicted to action in their books, then they might enjoy this. Or if they really like stories with faithful dogs (Nick is a beautifully described red spaniel whom is central to the plot), it might be a good pick. Also, Nick doesn't die, so you don't have to worry about one of those Old Yeller experiences when reading Adam of the Road. I've decided that happily ever after is definitely better when it comes to dogs in children's literature - but maybe that's a topic for another post.

A Gathering of Days

A Gathering of Days by Joan W. Blos

Written in the form of a journal, this book is the story of a year in the life of a fourteen year old girl living in New England in the early 1830’s. During the year, Catherine helps a runaway slave, loses her best friend, sees her widowed father remarry, and leaves her farm forever.

There is something about a book written as a journal that draws the reader close to the characters. I had just started this book when a fifth grader came into the library and asked if I could find her a book like A Gathering of Days. She loved it and wanted to read more books like it.

Ginger Pye

Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes

This is the kind of simple story about ordinary happy families that I read in bulk as a child. (I remember reading this particular story, in fact.) Rachel and Jerry are brother and sister, living with their mom and dad in a quiet little town. Jerry wants a dog, but he knows it is nearly impossible for him to earn the dollar he needs in time to buy the dog. Lo and behold, an opportunity to earn money avails itself to Jerry and, before he knows it, he is the proud owner of Ginger, a brilliantly clever dog. But, alas, others learn of Ginger’s brilliance. Ginger disappears.

The rest of the book is devoted to searching for Ginger. And that’s the whole book. No family turmoil. No dysfunctional people. Everyone in the story seems, well, focused and kind and happy and…gosh, nice. Was Estes deluding herself? Were families really like this? Are most families like this now? One can always hope.

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village by Laura Amy Schlitz

This year’s Newbery winner. Loved it.

The book was written in the form of short monologues, with characters representing many of the traditional people of medieval times. The author uses the sidebars to explain here and there words and expressions that children might not know. She also interjects a few pages of informational text to explain some of the key features of the times.

Loved it!

Miracles on Maple Hill

Miracles on Maple Hill by Virginia Sorensen

This is the kind of book I was afraid I was in for when I decided to read the Newbery books. The truth is that it was and it wasn’t. A white family, looking at the world, saying, “Oh gosh,” and “Oh golly,” facing issues like the son staying out too late and wondering where he is, facing how to get the big maple sugar crop in before it ruins, and lots and lots of “You can’t do that; you’re a girl.”

But it was also more. Dad was thought killed after time in a war camp, but he returns home, safe but scarred. Marly, the ten-year-old daughter, doesn’t listen to all the warnings about girls being unable to do things. Moving to the country heals. The family develops a deep friendship with an elderly couple nearby. The couple is warm and loving, but does not come across as overly false.

The details about maple sugaring are fun and new. The family heals, and reading about that process feels good. Yes, there are (sorry) sappy parts, but they, too, feel part of the time in which the story was written. Refreshing, somehow.

The Hero and The Crown

The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley

Aerin, the daughter of a witch and the king she bewitched, lives a lonely life, derided by her countrymen, scorned for her lack of gifts. Somehow she takes an elderly, broken-down warrior horse and heads off to kill a small dragon. In the process, she finds her life.

It was grueling to read the parts of the story where Aerin faces the enormous dragon, burning off her hair, scarring her. It felt, for some reason, more difficult to read than stories of men facing dragons. I do not know why.

I don’t know what children would make of this story. Big vocabulary. Tragedy. Love.

But I liked it a lot. Aerin learns much from a mystical mage, falls in love with him, and yet chooses to leave him to save her people, her ungrateful, cruel people.

...And Now Miguel

…And Now Miguel by Joseph Krumgold

Miguel wants desperately to go with the men on the long sheep drive in the summer, but his father thinks he is too young. Miguel does everything he can to prove himself to his father, but his father's answer is still no. Finally, Miguel resorts to praying to the saint, begging the saint to find a way for Miguel to go on the drive.

Miguel does not anticipate the consequences of his prayer. His father changes his mind, allowing Miguel to go, but at what cost, for what reasons?

This book is a thoughtful look at a boy growing to become a man, suddenly seeing things that were once clearly black or white have become a frightening gray.

M.C. Higgins the Great

M.C. Higgins, the Great by Virginia Hamilton

‘”I don’t know.” M.C. signed. “…But I’m getting tired of Daddy. Tired as I can be.”

“Come on,” Banina said. “We’ll miss the morning sun.” And later: “It’s not your daddy you tired of, M.C. It’s here. It’s this place. The same thing day after day is enemy to a growing boy.”

And all the ghosts, M.C. thought. All of the old ones.’

M.C. lives on the side of a mountain, just like his father before him and his grandmother before him. But all that must come to an end. Strip mining threatens to send a pile of rubble down on his home. M.C.’s father refuses to see it.

But M.C. is watching for ways to get away and one of the ways arrives in the form of a fellow recording songs. This fellow, this dude, as M.C. calls him, will get M.C.’s mother a singing contract and take the family away from the hills, M.C. thinks.

Another stranger visits, a girl traveling around the country, a city girl who shows M.C. other ways of thinking, of viewing his world, the bigger world. She could be a way out, M.C. thinks.
But again and again life disappoints, people disappoint. Out of the disappointments M.C. takes new knowledge and adds it to his old life, building a new life out of the old.

Kira-Kira

I'm not sure what I think of this book by Cynthia Kadohata. At first, I wasn't sure I liked it. It's one of those books that's not really about anything. I'm not sure I could sum up the plot: it's a young Japanese girl growing up in Georgia and her family surviving. It doesn't sound terribly interesting. (I'm not sure how many kids would be taken in by the cover, either.)

And yet, it's a lovely book, word-wise; very evocative of place and mood. You easily get a sense of Katie's wonder at the world, at her love for her sister (and eventually her younger brother). And because of the language, it becomes a beautiful tribute to sisters and to growing up. Katie would do anything for Lynn, even when the going gets difficult. Lynn loves Katie, even when she's being a teenager and thinks Katie's too immature. It's a testament to family and to how pulling together family can get someone through just about everything.

It's heartbreaking at the end, when Lynn becomes ill and eventually dies. Katie not only helps nurse her through her illness, but has to help her family pick up the pieces and move on. It's not easy; there are times when everyone loses it. But, they do move on, remembering Lynn yet not ending their lives for her.

It was a good book. Much better than I was expecting, and I'm glad I finally got around to reading it.

Cross-posted at Book Nut.

Make My Day Award

Dear Alicia and all friends who have made such a success of this real community blog - I just tagged you for the Make My Day award. Come and see! I don't think we have to reply and do the nominating thing! Alicia - thank you for keeping this blog in shape....

The Witch of Blackbird Pond

I've always been kind of interested in the Puritans - probably because I have a bunch of Puritan ancestors. Many of these men had cool names like Obadiah, Nathaniel, Abram, and Azariah, and the women had even more exotic names: Comfort, Persis, Jerusha, Fear, and (my personal favorite) Mindwell.

And I know that I read this book as a child or adolescent - I remember the cover very well (it was the gothic 70's one above). It sat on my bookshelf for years, next to the other "non-favorites" (like Island of the Blue Dolphins).

But despite my interest in the Puritans and history, before re-reading of The Witch of Blackbird Pond, all I could remember about it was that the heroine's name was Kit and that the Puritans suspected that old ladies who lived by themselves were witches.

I don't know why I didn't really like this story as a child, because this time around I really enjoyed it. I think this is the first time I've totally changed my childhood opinions on any of these books. And I think that The Witch holds up very well, considering it was published in 1958. If I didn't know how old it was, I could easily assume The Witch of Blackbird Pond was written ten years ago instead of nearly fifty years ago.

The characters in The Witch are all interesting, complicated people, with lots of shades of gray in them (instead of the absolutes you might expect of the sadly stereotyped Puritans), and there is suspense, romance, and a lot of good history. I think Speare does a rather wonderful job of balancing an interesting story with complex history.

There's a witchcraft scare, but there's also good description of the religious and political differences amongst the colonists (I never knew about the Connecticut charter), slavery, and the sheer amount of work involved just to survive in the late 1600's in New England. The Indians get rather short shrift in The Witch, in historical terms, but maybe Native-European relations would be better served in different book, anyway.

On one of the coldest days of the year here in Michigan, I particularly enjoyed Speare's description of Kit's first winter after her arrival from Barbados:

January dragged by, and February. It was the hardest winter most of the townspeople could remember. Old people shook their heads, recalling blizzards of their childhood, but it was impossible for Kit to visualize anything more bleak than this first winter of her experience. She no longer saw any beauty in a world muffled in white. She hated the long days of imprisonment, when there was nothing to see through the window but shifting curtains of pale gray, when drifts stood waist high on the doorstep, and it took hours of backbreaking labor to carve a passage to the well. She hated the drafty floors and frigid corners, and the perpetual animal reek of heavy clothes hung about the fireplace to dry.

Every night she shrank from the moment when she and Judith must make the dread ascent to the upstairs chamber with only the meager comfort of a warming pan. But impatient as she was with the long days indoors, the outdoors promised only aching misery. She resented the arduous preparation for the journey to Meeting, the heavy leather boots, the knit socks drawn over them, the clumsy little footstove they had to lug all the way, that cooled off long before the sermon was finished and left one to sit with stinging fingers and toes, while the breath of the whole congregation rose like the smoke from so many pipes (p. 234-5).

I think older kids (especially girls) would enjoy this more than younger Newbery readers, especially given the romantic part of the plot, but there's nothing inappropriate for an interested third or fourth grader. But encourage your kid(s) to try it again when they're 14 or 15 - they might like it more then.

The Slave Dancer by Paula Fox

Stars: *****

When I found out it was Historical fiction I was nervous as this isn’t a genre I usually read. However I needn’t have worried. One of the few histories I do read about is African history. This story is based on what happened June 3, 1840. A slave ship called The Moonlight shipwrecked in the Gulf of Mexico. Of the 13 crew and 98 slaves, only 2 survived.

Paula Fox did a superb job of telling the story. I don’t know if the survivors told their story and she based it on that or if nothing is known except what’s stated in the paragraph above and she made everything up. Either way it was a heart wrenching story that both pulled me in and pushed me away. I couldn’t stop reading it even when what happened was so appalling I felt ashamed to be human and Caucasian.

The Slave Dancer most definitely deserved to win the Newbery medal. I don’t know what other books were in the running that year but no matter how good they were, this one would have still beaten them up. We need to remember what was done to the Africans to help ensure nothing like that happens again.

The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle and Other Tales by Hugh Lofting

Stars: ****1/2

NOTE: The picture isn't of the version I read but I can't find it right now. When I go home I'll write down the ISBN and next time come and find the right graphic.

I had never heard of Doctor Dolittle until the Eddie Murphy movie came out and although the movie was silly, the idea of being able to talk to animals was an interesting one. So when I found out it was a book first I knew I wanted to read it. One day I found it at a library sale and I took it home.

The Voyages of Doctor Dolittle, if you don’t already know is the story of the adventures of a Human Doctor, turned Animal Doctor who can speak almost every animal language. He is the best animal doctor around. His life goals are to see the bottom of the sea and to find the legendary sea serpent. He travels around the globe meeting new animals and people, healing sick and hurt animals and learning new things.

The premise is very cute and creative and I enjoyed reading about Doctor Dolittle’s adventures. It’s nice to read a book with a plot that is entirely different from other books instead of the same basic story over and over with a few changes.

I can see why it won the Newbery Medal although I’m curious as to what other books were in the running that year as most of the other Newbery Winning Books I’ve read so far were a lot better.

The High King

I’ve tried to read this series a dozen times and I’ve always given up until now. This time I started with the last book in the series and I couldn’t put the book down. The author assures the reader in the introduction that though this is the final book in his series it is a stand alone; I found this to be so. The characters are slowly led on the stage, with their past exploits clearly delineated. I never felt unclear or confused. I grew to love all the characters, even the whiny Glew and the shifty Achren. The author, without revealing any of the clever twists of the plot, brings everything to a firm, though not always happy, conclusion.

The Slave Dancer

Jessie Bollier is kidnapped, taken from his mother and sister, and left stranded aboard a slave ship, on its way to Africa to acquire a boatload of slave cargo. He has been taken in order to play the fife on the ship, to play the fife for the slaves, to entice them to dance, to keep the slaves fit while incarcerated on the ship.

This was a grueling tale to read. Jessie is in misery. His fellow members of the crew are in misery. The slaves are in misery. There can be no happy stories in this book and there can be no happy endings. But, along the way, Jessie meets a few people who show tiny sparks of humanity and give him hope.

The Tale of Despereaux

A mouse falls in love with a princess…a rat hates living in the darkness of the dungeon and longs to live in the light…a serving girl wants to be a princess…The Tale of Despereaux is rife with impossible-to-resolve conflicts. Only in a fairy tale can a mouse find a way to marry a princess…a rat find a way to live in the light…a homely servant find a way to become a beautiful princess. Though much of the book feels like a fairy tale, the author chooses to go another direction at the end. No one lives a sappy sweet happily-ever-after. Dreams aren’t realized in the way one might hope, but instead in the way one needs. The book is chock full of ponderings about the power of hope, forgiveness, and love, but, again, the author shows how these save one, though not in the way one might expect.

Roll of Thunder, Hear My Cry

For me, this book falls into the "important but very painful to read" category. It was depressing, disheartening, and yet an important look at race relations in the south in the 1930s.

The basic story is a year in the life of the Logans, as told from 9-year-old Cassie Logan's point of view. She and her family live in Mississippi, north of Vicksburg, on a former plantation. Her family is different than the other tenant farmers in their area: they own 400 acres of their own land. It was a fluke: a Yankee had bought some after the Civil War and ended up selling some to Cassie's grandfather. Yet, it's the land -- and owning it -- that allows Cassie's family a measure of freedom that the other families don't have.

The interesting thing (to me) is that the other black families don't hold it against the Logans do what they can to help out their neighbors and work hard at making ends meet. It's the white people that claim the Logan's are putting on airs, getting uppity and the like. In the end, it's the land that both dooms them and saves them. (Which sounds ominous, I know, but really that's the way it happens.)

Mildred Taylor doesn't spare any one or anything. When Cassie disobeys, she gets whipped. She gets humiliated for just being black, and manages to get her "revenge". It's very much a world of get and try and give back. The children get splattered every morning on their way to school by the white bus going by (on purpose), and they take their revenge. Which sets off a chain of events. I think more than race relations, this book is about consequences. The consequences of choices, of decisions, of being black (or white) in Mississippi. There's a strong sense of family, too. The Logans deeply care for their children, wanting what's best for them. They are also concerned for their safety, navigating the difficult path of what's right versus what's best.

It was a very powerful book, one that I'm sure will stay with me for quite a while.

Cross posted at Book Nut.

Good Masters! Sweet Lades! (#2)

In a word: delightful.

Other words to describe this: gem, fascinating, funny, captivating, beautiful.

Amazing.

I won't go into how much I loved the foreword, or the explanation sections, since Sandy did that already (and I wholeheartedly agree with her!)

It's amazing how much information Laura Amy Schlitz packed into 81 pages. There are 23 captivating characters, each one with their own story. It's a well-researched (but never dull) peek back in to Medieval times, the harshness of it, as well as the simple little joys. I liked that Schlitz didn't glamorize the lives of these children, but I liked that she kept it accessible to kids of today. I liked that much of it was poetry: beautiful, simple, powerful. (And this is from someone who isn't necessarily a fan of poetry.)

It's a treasure, and well worth the Newbery it won this year.

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!

This year's Newbery winner is Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village, by Laura Amy Schlitz, illustrated by Robert Byrd.

It's a charming book. I love history, and I love footnotes and poetry, and Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! has all of these in great abundance. It's also got gorgeous (vaguely medieval looking) illustrations, including a wonderful map of the world of the unnamed manor, that includes all of the characters, their houses, fields, and even some activities and animals.

In high school (about twenty-five years ago in north-central Illinois), we had to read selections from Edgar Lee Masters' Spoon River Anthology. Those interlinked epitaphs or "poetic monologues" made quite an impression on me - I actually wanted to name my daughter Lucinda after one of my favorite Spoon River characters. Unfortunately Lucinda just doesn't go well with my husband's last name, or mine, so we went with a different (but still rather literary) girl's name.

Anyway, Schlitz's collection of "miniature plays", written for her students at the Park School in Baltimore (lucky students!), like Masters' epitaphs, provide intimate looks at people from very different social classes and temperaments. Masters' collection focused on a small town in Illinois; these stories come from a manor (a small town associated with a lord) in England in the year 1255. But both books have the same feel to me - they're basically gossipy stories that highlight deeper issues.

Part of the appeal of Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! (and the Spoon River Anthology) is how the different monologues reveal different aspects of the characters. In addition to each kid's own piece (Schlitz notes in her delightful foreword that she imagines the characters in GM!SW! as "between ten and fifteen years old", pg. ix), you also get several fascinating glimpses of how some of their peers - in age if not class - also see each other.

And in Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!, you also learn quite a bit about medieval history.

Schlitz really had me hooked in her foreword:

When I was a student, I had two ideas about history, and one of them was that history was about dead men who had done dull things. History was dates and governments and laws and war and money - and dead men. Always dead men.

But I also read historical novels. And I adored them. People in historical novels loved, fought, and struggled to survive. They died violently; they were beset with invaders and famine and plague. They wore splendid clothes or picturesque rags. They performed miracles of courage and strength just to get something to eat. It was from novels that I learned that history was the story of survival: even something that sounded boring, like crop rotation or inheritance law, might be a matter of life and death to a hungry peasant. Novels taught me that history is dramatic. I wanted my students to know that, too (pg. ix).

Happily, the rest of the book fulfilled the foreword's promise (not like here, where I ranted about just the opposite in The White Stag, which won in 1938).

I gathered that GM!SL! was a dark horse in the Newbery race this year when I talked to the librarians at my library this morning (they had to fetch the book from the office, where it was awaiting its Newbery sticker). I have to say I'm happy with this unexpected choice.

And the 2008 Winner Is....

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Voices from a Medieval Village, by Laura Amy Schlitz

the Honors winners are:

Elijah of Buxton, by Christopher Paul Curtis (ha! I just checked this out of the library yesterday)

The Wednesday Wars, by Gary D. Schmidt

Feathers, by Jacqueline Woodson

They all sound pretty interesting. There's a blurb from the American Library Association here.

The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron

Cross-posted at The Well-Read Child

With this year’s Newbery winner being announced on Monday, I figured I’d better get around to reading last year’s winner.

The Higher Power of Lucky is set in Hard Pan, California, a destitute town where nearly everyone receives “Government Surplus commodities.” Even though the town may be lacking in money, it’s not lacking in interesting and eclectic people. First you have Short Sammy, a recovering alcoholic whose house is made of a water tank. Then there’s quiet Lincoln, Lucky’s friend who is fascinated with tying knots. His mother a librarian wants him to be president, and his father, a much older man spends his day driving around in a dune buggy looking for historic pieces of barbed wire he can sell on EBay. And then there’s Lucky Trimble a 10 year old girl whose mother was electrocuted by down power lines when she was eight. Her father, whom Lucky doesn’t even know wasn’t about to become a father when her mother died, so he somehow managed to get his first wife, Brigitte, to come all the way from France to be Lucky’s guardian. Lucky is consumed with the fear that Brigitte will go back to France and leave her. The book centers around this as we get a glimpse into Lucky’s everyday life and the people of Hard Pan.

When I first read this book, I thought, “THIS won the Newbery Medal?” I thought it was a good story, but I didn’t think it one of the best young adult books I’d ever read and certainly not as good as Hattie Big Sky, which was named a Newbery Honor Book last year.

But as I kept thinking about the story and the characters, it grew on me. Patron does an exceptional job with characterization in the book. Lucky is exceptionally smart and creative. She loves to make up stories about the “Olden Days” where her companions, HMS Beagle (her real-life dog who is “not a ship or a beagle”) and Chesterfield, a mule, have all kinds of adventures. For a child of ten, she has had to deal with things that no adult would want to go through—the death of her mother and the abandonment of her father. These experiences give her a sense of maturity that many 10-year-olds don’t have, but Patron reminds us over and over again that she is a child. She carries around a “survival backpack” wherever she goes. Its contents include a survival blanket, half a tube of toothpaste, a bottle of Gatorade, tins for collecting her bug specimens, and much more. She puts mineral oil on her eyebrows so they’ll glisten (Brigitte won’t let her wear real makeup), and she has a bit of a crush on Lincoln. She eavesdrops on AA meetings and other “anonymous meetings,” and it’s apparent that she doesn’t understand what they’re really all about as she tries to search for her own “Higher Power.” These types of things made me chuckle and then I’d come across a passage like this that would tug at my heart: “Sometimes Lucky wanted to change everything, all the bad things that had happened, and sometimes she wanted everything to stay the same forever,” (p. 8).

Patron gives us a glimpse into what it feels like to live in constant fear that you’re going to be abandoned and not know where you’re going end up—the fear that is all too real for most foster children. Even little Miles, who lives with his grandmother, doesn’t know where his mother is and carries around a worn copy of “Are You My Mother?” I couldn’t help feeling empathy for him as Lucky refused to read it to him—again.

Even with all of the heart wrenching moments, Patron does a fine job of balancing them with humor and an engaging storyline. The book is not too heavy or depressing and has an uplifting ending.

I was surprised (well not really) to hear all of the hubbub about Patron’s use of the word “scrotum” on the very first page of the book—she’s retelling Short Sammy’s story of his lowest point with his alcoholism where his dog gets bit on the scrotum by a snake. There is nothing sexual or perverse, and in fact, Lucky is not even sure what a scrotum is—another example that she is just a child. My two cents—children have heard much far worse, and it is the proper name of a sexual organ. Patron could have used a number of alternative terms. It is not and should not be a focal point of the book, and the fact that it has been banned is completely ridiculous. But don’t get me started on what I think about censorship…even I am making this is the focal point of my review.

The Higher Power of Lucky is a good book with lovable characters, great and believable dialogue, and both poignant and funny moments. I personally would have picked Hattie Big Sky to win, but I’m not on the committee, so what can I do?

Correction: My sources were incorrect...The Higher Power of Lucky hasn't been banned although there was a lot of chatter about it being challenged or banned. Even so, I STILL think it's ridiculous that it would even be considered. Thanks to Susan at Wizards Wireless for setting me straight and pointing me to this article.

Miss Hickory

I decided to tackle Miss Hickory by Carolyn Sherwin Bailey, and what a wonderful book to read in the wintertime!

Miss Hickory is made from an apple-wood twig for her body and a hickory nut for her head. Though most people would say she is a doll, Miss Hickory is alive.

As the book opens, Miss Hickory has a problem. Winter in New Hampshire is rapidly approaching, and she will not be able to last the season in her little corncob house under the lilac bush. Miss Hickory despairs until her friend Crow offers a solution: he has found an abandoned robin's nest in the apple orchard which Miss Hickory can occupy at least until the spring.

The reader follows Miss Hickory's adventures with animals of farm and field and experiences the beauty of nature with her. The book is filled with gorgeous passages that draw a vivid picture of Miss Hickory's world. To quote one such passage from chapter 11:

"Snow a foot deep still whitened the top of Temple Mountain, but at the foot a rose-pink haze lay in lovely color. That was the budding of the red maple trees. In the lee of the mountain there hung a golden curtain, as pale yellow as a new moon. That was the flowering of the willows... Once, as Crow swooped down over High-Mowing, she saw some moving spots like bits of scattered broken sunset."

I strongly encourage everyone to pick up a copy of Miss Hickory and get lost in the loveliness of a New Hampshire winter!

The Twenty-One Ballons by William Pene Dubois

The Twenty-One Balloons by William Pene Dubois

What a peculiar story! William Sherman, tired of teaching ungrateful children, decides to travel around the world in a hot air balloon. Sherman succeeds, but not in the way he'd anticipated.

Unexpectedly, Sherman crashes on the island of Krakatoa. Instead of finding a deserted island, however, he comes upon a strange community of people. The community has a source of wealth, a magnificent diamond mine, that allows the people to do anything they wish. The people have created a zany civilization founded upon the idea of restaurants, eating out at a different family's restaurant every night. Sherman is shown novel designs for homes and odd inventions that have come from the clever minds of the island's residents. Despite their apparent creativity and great wealth, the people choose to live on an island that, every hour of the day, threatens their lives.

And, of course, as one might expect, the moment comes when Krakatoa blows. Somehow, the people are able to escape without harm and Sherman is able to return home to San Francisco.
Very, very peculiar book.

And what an odd coincidence that Twenty-One Balloons is my twenty-first book of the year!

Shadow of a Bull by Maia Wojciechowska

Shadow of a Bull by Maia Wojciechowska

A book about bullfighting seems like the last book I would want to read, but Shadow of a Bull is not just a book about bullfighting. Shadow of a Bull is a rich book about the trials of being the son of a hero, a book about the struggles of a boy trying to find his own way in a world that is attempting to force him to take a path the boy does not want to take. Manolo is the son of a magnificent bullfighter. When Manolo's father is killed in the ring, the people look to Manolo to become the man his father was. Manolo does not want to be a bullfighter. But he does not want to disappoint his mother and his father's friends and all the people of his town. He is afraid, paradoxically, of both the bull and of being a coward. He can find no way out.

The author is somehow able to share with the reader the beauty and the horror of bullfighting. I was surprised to find that I could see bullfighting in a new way, as an art, as a heroic act, though I continue to feel revulsion as well.

Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray

Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray

"A road's a kind of holy thing," said Roger the Minstrel to his son, Adam. "That's why it's a good work to keep a road in repair, like giving alms to the poor or tending the sick. It's open to the sun and wind and rain. It brings all kinds of people and all parts of England together. And it's home to a minstrel, even though he may happen to be sleeping in a castle."

Adam is a young boy of eleven, spending his time in school while awaiting the return of his father, a minstrel of some repute, and the resumption of his life with his father on the road. Adam's father does return and together father and son head out on the road but, like all road trips, this adventure has many unexpected twists and turns, including the kidnapping of Adam's beloved dog and Adam's separation from his father. The fun of being on this road with Adam is seeing the people and places of another time, parsons and knights and other minstrels and other travelers.

As a librarian, I began to see myself like Roger and Adam, as a kind of minstrel, singing songs, reciting poetry, relating stories. Ah, a new epithet: "Minstrel of the Library."

Amos Fortune, Free Man

Amos Fortune was born At-mun, the son of a king in Africa. Before he knew it, he was seized and taken to America, to be sold as a slave. He was fortunate, however, and was sold to a kind Quaker who treated him justly and beneficently and allowed him to buy his freedom. All his life (and he lived a long life, living to nearly one hundred) Amos helped others become free, including all three of his wives.

With a copyright date of 1950, I anticipated there would be lots of racist elements to this book. There were, but the book was redeemed somewhat by the depiction of Amos as a pioneer, a good man, a man who led the way for others.

The Trumpeter of Krakow

Adventure…kings…alchemists…heroes…castles…villains…treasure…What more could a kid want in a story?

The book centers on a family who has come to Krakow having lost everything to marauders seeking an ancient treasure said to be in the family’s possession. A classic story of adventure.

Secret of the Andes

Secret of the Andes is a quiet story of an Inca boy growing up in the mountains of Peru, raising llamas. This boy, Cusi, knows little of his past, and has no home other than the mountains, no family outside his elderly mentor and his llamas.

Time passes and Cusi knows he must leave the mountain, leave his llamas, leave his mentor, and go to the city to seek out his heart’s desire. Will he find this heart’s desire? And, if he does, will it be what he thought it would be? A wonderful little story of the seeking and finding of simple happiness in a big world.

Newbery Project format changes

Newbery Project members:

We're a victim of our own success! There are enough of us that our posts threaten to overtake the list of books on the left side of the page. In an effort to streamline our page AND still allow us to read all the posts on a given book, I ask for your help making a format change.

On January 1, I will remove the left-margin links to individuals' posts on various books. In the interim, if you wish to have your posts grouped by book, please take advantage of the "Labels" feature by putting the title of each book as one of/the post label(s).

In this way, clicking on the label for a given book will take the reader to all posts on that title.

Please continue to use any other labels you wish.

I apologize for the inconvenience this may cause, but I hope that it will make the blog more manageable in the long run.

Finally, if any of you are familiar enough with HTML to help me include a list of labels somewhere on the page (or, better yet, to hyperlink the list of Newbery winners to the corresponding labels) please e-mail me at the address listed in the "how to join" info.

The Higher Power of Lucky

The Higher Power of Lucky by Susan Patron
Illustrated by Matt Phelan


Pages: 134
Finished: Dec. 21, 2007
First Published: 2006
Rating: 2.5/5

First Sentence:

Lucky Trimble crouched in a wedge of shade behind the Dumpster.

Comments: 10-year-old Lucky lives in a rural town with a population of 43. She is constantly worried that her Guardian will leave her and go back to live in France. This book left me greatly underwhelmed. I had no great liking for the characters and the plot was mostly uneventful. Disappointing for a Newbery winner.

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

I read this one for the Newbery Project as well as for the Reading Awards Challenge. It is the winner of the Newbery Award, which honors the best in children's literature. This is the same author as Because of Winn-Dixie so I guess this also qualifies as a 2nds, even though I completed that challenge.

Despereaux is a mouse who goes on a quest to save his beloved Princess Pea from the rats in the dungeon. A servant, Miggery Sow, gets involved in the rat's evil plans. The story is one part fairy tale, one part quest story, one part fantasy, and one part bedtime story. The author relates that her son's friend asked for a story about a hero with large ears, and this book is that story.

To read the full review, see my blog.

The Slave Dancer

The Slave Dancer, by Paula Fox, won the Newbery in 1974. When I looked at some of its reviews on Amazon (fairly evenly divided between those that thought it was important and evocative, and those that thought it was overly depressing or boring), I noticed that they recommended it for ages 9-12.

I would not recommend this book for a child under 12 (although that may be The Slave Dancer's "reading level"), because the story is really quite brutal. It is not overly graphic, but it is emotionally very difficult - Fox does all too good of a job portraying casual cruelty amongst the sailors before the slaves are even purchased and loaded into the ship. After that, it's horror piled upon horror.

The Slave Dancer is basically a story about one boy's loss of innocence - the year is 1840, and 13 year old Jessie Bollier of New Orleans is kidnapped to serve as a fife player on a slave ship called The Moonlight, which sails to West Africa to pick up slaves, then to Cuba to trade the slaves for molasses, and then back to the United States. The black and white illustrations by Eros Keith suit the story very well (part of one is shown on the cover here, which I think is much more appropriate than some of the newer covers, which portray a totally misleading happy nautical scene).

From the first page, with its list of The Moonlight's officers, crew, and cargo ("98 slaves whose true names were remembered only by their families, except for the young boy, Ras"), and the note "Shipwrecked in the Gulf of Mexico, June 3, 1840: Survivors 2", I think it is obvious that this isn't going to be a happy adventure. Strangely enough, the story isn't overly intense, either (thus the many critics who said it was boring) - but I think her detached style actually adds a bit to the horror described. I think Fox's ending is pretty realistic, and it packs quite the emotional punch, but I don't want to give any more of it away than that - except to say that while it is not exactly a happy ending, it certainly isn't as depressing as what preceded it. It's a good ending, worth finishing the book to reach.

I can't say that I will ever number The Slave Dancer among my favorite Newbery winners, but I do think it is an important book. It was interesting reading this right after The Matchlock Gun, with its casual mention of slaves and man's inhumanity to man. A lot certainly changed in the years from 1942 to 1974.

Some Contenders for the 2008 Prize

Some folks associated with the Allen County Public Library (in Fort Wayne, Indiana) have put together a list of some of the contenders for the 2008 Newbery Award. You remember, these are the people who did their own controversial but entertaining ranking of Newbery winners here (which we discussed in this post).

I think that the only book I've read on their list is Sherman Alexie's The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian. I loved it - and would be absolutely thrilled if it won the Newbery Award next year. And I'd be all ready to go with my review.

The Tale of Despereaux by Kate DiCamillo

Have you ever read a book that made you feel as though you were wrapped up in a warm blanket, sipping hot cocoa, and all was good in the world? Looking at the wonderfully romantic cover of this novel, with a gallant-looking mouse grasping a sword-like needle, and running with a determined look in his eye, I was prepared for some feel-good magic. That illusion ended on page one, and my imaginary quilt was ripped way, and the hot cocoa spilled. When Despereaux the mouse is born "within the walls of a castle," the only one of his litter to survive, his mother complains, "All of that work for nothing" and labels her newborn son a "disappointment." But this is nothing compared to the mouse council who sends Despereaux to his probable death to the dungeons for talking to a human princess; the prisoner who has sold his daughter for a red cloth, a hen and a handful of cigarettes; the man who buys the girl, Miggery Sow, and beats her so badly, that her ears look like cauliflower, and the rats who find joy in making others suffer. The narrator, who often directly addresses the reader, aptly admits (on page 183),

"The story is not a pretty one. There is violence in it. And cruelty. But the stories that are not pretty have a certain value, too. I suppose. Everything, as you well know (having lived in this world long enough to have figured out a thing or two for yourself), cannot aways be sweetness and light."

And I suppose that is true, which is why I still liked the book, blanket-free though it was. There is "sweetness and light" to contrast the darkness of this tale. There is the big-eared Despereaux, who is drawn to the light and falls ridiculously in love with the Princess and unselfishly resolves to rescue her. There is the Princess Pea, whose heart, though not free of dark feelings (are any of our hearts?), feels compassion and empathy even for those who have wronged her. And there is the hope, that even though there is evil in the world, if we seek the light, we can find our own happiness, no matter how ridiculous it may be:

"The world is dark, and light is precious."

The Matchlock Gun

The Matchlock Gun, by Walter D. Edmonds, was published in 1941. It's a short book, with less than 50 pages of text, "for boys and girls from 7 to 11" (according to the dust jacket), written rather simply and skilfully. There are quite a few more illustrations (lithographs by Paul Lantz) than most of the other Newbery winners, as you might expect from a book aimed at younger kids.

As the dust jacket also states, The Matchlock Gun is "a stirring story of American courage...the straightforward, deeply moving tale of a small boy, his smaller sister, their splendid mother and an antique matchlock gun...[that] happens to be a true one."

The story takes place near Albany, New York in 1757, when this part of New York was a British colony mainly populated by Dutch and German settlers. Although Edmonds doesn't explain it as such, the raids he describes were part of the French and Indian War, when the British and the French and their respective Native allies battled for control of eastern North America.

Edward Van Alstyne, the 10 year old hero of the story, lives with his parents, Teunis and Gertrude, and his little sister Trudy, in a snug house near the larger brick house where his grandmother (Widow Van Alstyne) and her slaves live. When Teunis leads the local militia to defend the settlements north of Guilderland, Gertrude decides to stay in the family's cabin, hoping that if the French or Indians (which Indians? It would be nice to know) make it past the militia, their house will be overlooked, since it is not on the main road. Unfortunately, raiders find their house, as described here:

There were five of them, dark shapes on the road, coming from the brick house. They hardly looked like men, the way they moved. They were trotting, stooped over, first one and then another coming up, like dogs sifting up to the scent of food (p. 39).

Edward uses the antique gun, and kills three men who chase his mother to an ambush she sets up on their front doorstep. Gertrude is wounded, and the cabin burns, but Trudy and Edward escape, and join their mother outside. Their father returns with the militia (killing another Indian they find, who had been wounded by the single blast Edward shot from the matchlock gun), and then they find Gertrude, Edward, and Trudy with the gun in the dooryard.

"They sneaked by us," Mynderse said. "Who shot them, Edward?"

"I did. With the Spanish Gun," said Edward.

"You've killed more than all the rest of us put together!" Mynderse exclaimed, and he picked up the gun and hefted it (p. 50).

Although I did enjoy the suspense, and appreciated Edmonds' writing (his descriptions of the house, their farm, and Trudy's occasionally annoying toddler behavior are especially good), the two passages cited above pretty much stopped me in my tracks. I just don't want my kids reading that.

And it's not that I want to sugarcoat colonial history. My kids have seen the bloodstained bonnet and vest (in a case at the little historical museum near my hometown) that my great-grandfather's grandparents were wearing when they were killed along with thirteen other settlers during the Black Hawk War. But even my surviving great-great-grandmother and her sister - who saw their parents, little sister, and neighbors massacred, and spent two weeks as hostages, and wrote about their experiences - never described their attackers as less than men, or spoke in such a matter-of-fact manner about killing.

I was pretty critical of the subtle racism that I saw in Caddie Woodlawn (see here), which was actually written six years before The Matchlock Gun. Well, maybe I shouldn't have been quite so hard on Caddie, because it can't hold a candle to The Matchlock Gun in this respect. Then again, I don't think Matchlock is a favorite of nearly as many people.

Doris Seale, on the other hand, writing for Oyate (a Native organization that examines how Native peoples are portrayed in literature) notes that The Matchlock Gun "may very well be one of the worst descriptions of Native people in children’s literature, certainly in the 20th Century." Check out her review for some interesting insights on it.

It's a shame, really, because Edmonds is a skilled writer, and I think that this period of our history is an important and interesting one. But I'll be looking elsewhere for stirring stories of American courage for my kids.

Call It Courage

Call It Courage, by Armstrong Sperry, is a short book, and a good one to read in Michigan in the winter. It has gorgeous descriptions of Polynesian islands, coral reefs, and the experience of being in an outrigger canoe in the middle of the Pacific, and all of this is a very nice change from freezing rain, slush, and grey days.

It's a quiet story, though. There is some action in it - the 15 year old hero, Mafatu, battles a shark, an octopus (do big octopi really attack people?), a wild boar, and barely escapes from the savage black "eaters-of-men". I winced a little every time Sperry notes that the neighboring cannibals were black (not Polynesian like Mafatu?), but this was the only bit that really dated the story. Like Island of the Blue Dolphins, which shares many similarities with Call It Courage, this is basically the story of a boy and his dog and his bird, and of his battles with the the sea and with his own fear, and it is rather timeless. And I liked that aspect of the story; I loved how the first paragraph is echoed at the end of the book:

It happened many years ago, before the traders and missionaries first came into the South Seas, while the Polynesians were still great in numbers and fierce of heart. But even today the people of Hikueru sing this story in their chants and tell it over the evening fires (p. 7, p. 95).

The woodcuts (I think they're woodcuts, anyway, but maybe they're etchings or something) were absolutely beautiful, and I was surprised to see that Sperry also did these illustrations. They really complement the book, and add a lot to its charm. But I was taken aback by the following picture, because Sperry states several times that the shark that Mafatu battles is a hammerhead, and even my six year old knows (from Animal Planet and the Toledo Zoo aquarium) that this is not a hammerhead.

Warning: some mild spoilers below the picture.


Unlike Karana in Island of the Blue Dolphins, Mafatu chooses his isolation, and returns triumphantly to his family. So the things that disturbed me in O'Dell's story just weren't here, and many of the things that I liked in Island of the Blue Dolphins were also here in Call It Courage: beautiful descriptions of the land (and sea), nearly ethnographic descriptions of the resourceful way native peoples used plants and animals, a good dog companion, and a character with strength of mind and (duh, given the title) courage.

Sperry said something interesting in his Newbery acceptance speech in 1941, which I think makes a statement about the best Newbery winners in general:

"CALL IT COURAGE meant a great deal to me in the writing but I had no idea that the response to the book would be so wide among children. I had feared that the concept of spiritual courage might be too adult for the age group such a book would reach, and that young people would find it less thrilling than the physical courage which battles pirates unconcerned or outstares the crouching lion. But it seems I was wrong ... which only serves to prove that children have imagination enough to grasp any idea which you present to them with honesty and without patronage."

Miracles on Maple Hill

Miracles on Maple Hill and the sugaring party in Little House in the Big Woods almost make me want to live in Vermont or anywhere else in maple country. Then I think about the cold winters and isolation, and get over it.

Miracles on Maple Hill is not just about sugaring and maple sap collection. I remember reading it in elementary school. However, a reread brought several surprises. I didn't remember that the father was interned in a prison camp during his military service and that his mental illness was the main reason the family stayed on Maple Hill.

It's also a quiet evocation of the importance of nature in children's lives. While this has gained more importance in recent years (Richard Louv's The Last Child in the Woods is an example), it's fascinating to read this in a book published in 1956.

Nature is at the forefront of the book; it's lovely and quiet, although there are definite adventures and suspense. I wasn't in the mood for quiet when I started the book; I considered putting it aside for another book. Once the family settled in for good on Maple Hill, I became more involved with the story.

It's not a sweet nature story by any means: the father is suffering from, if not Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (which wouldn't have been named then), then a severe form of depression following his internment in a prison camp. I'm assuming he was an American POW; he is not called that specifically by name, and the war in which he fought isn't specified. Miracles on Maple Hill was published only 11 years after the end of World War II; however, it was published only three years after the Korean War armistice was signed. I gathered that Father had only recently returned from the war; I doubt that the family had been dealing with his illness for at least 11 years. The Korean War would have definitely not been far from Virginia Sorensen's audience's minds.

Miracles on Maple Hill won the Newbery Award in 1957.

Strawberry Girl

Hello everyone! My name is Jennifer Schultz, and I'm a youth services librarian with the Fauquier County Public Library (VA). I'm reading the Newbery Medalist (and Honor recipients) in no particular order. It all depends on my mood! I recently read Strawberry Girl, and loved it. Let me tell you about it!

The next time someone asks for a book like Little House on the Prairie, I'm handing her Strawberry Girl (and Caddie Woodlawn). My newfound abhorrence of treacly old-fashioned books be gone!

However, Strawberry Girl isn't very treacly at all (ending is a little pat, but tolerable). It's hard to be treacly when you're strawberry farmers in turn of the century Florida. Especially when your neighbors are so difficult, what with their roaming animals, their troublemaking sons, and their gambling and drinking father (good old days weren't so good for many people). Admittedly, it doesn't help that there's such a wide economic gap between Birdie Boyer's family and the Slaters, which only brings upon envy and pride.

However, Birdie and one of the boys, Shoestring (formally known as Jefferson Davis Slater) form an uneasy truce. It's not all bicker and bother; Birdie helps her family with the farming, goes to school, "frolics" with the neighbors (you went "frolicking" if a neighbor hosted a gathering) and goes to town (literally) with her family (if a book features a country family going to town at any point in the story, it has me at "giddyap").

There's definitely drama woven throughout the book; the bickering between the neighbors escalates into significant property damage, one of the Slater sons causes serious problems with the schoolteacher (if a book features children and a one room schoolhouse, it has me at "A is for Adam"), arson threatens the Boyer household, and Mama Slater becomes seriously ill.

Papa Slater's encounter with a traveling preacher seems a little tacked on and rushed, but certainly not impossible by any means. It's just one minor flaw in an otherwise satisfyingly comfortable read.

Oh, the reader's curse of finding a long-neglected writer! Strawberry Girl is one in a series of regionally placed novels written by Lenski. Thankfully, we do have several, but the one I most want to read, Bayou Suzette (takes place in Louisiana) is out of print. This calls for an interlibrary loan, as does Lenski's autobiography!

Strawberry Girl won the Newbery Award in 1946.

Holes by Louis Sachar

Holes by Louis Sachar


Pages: 233
Finished: Dec. 9, 2007
First Published: 1998
Rating: 5/5

First Sentence:

There is no lake at Camp Green Lake.

Comments: Stanley Yelnats is sent to Camp Green Lake after being convicted of a crime he did not commit. At Green Lake, the inmates must dig a 5ft (in every direction) hole each and every day. It is here at this unlikely place that Stanley meets his destiny. This was such a wonderful story! I can't believe I waited so long to read it. All the characters (especially Stanley and the other boys) were so interesting and I loved the flashbacks that brought Stanley's heritage together with his present and ultimately his destiny. An unusual tale with a heartwarming ending. Highly recommended.

1937 Roller Skates Ruth Sawyer

In 1937 this delightful book won the Newbery Medal. When the author Ruth Sawyer received the medal she let her audience into the secret that she herself had known the ten year old Lucinda intimately – ‘Lucinda and I had the same mother’. The acceptance speech is printed at the start of my copy and was a joy to read. Ruth spoke about the ‘urge of freedom for a child’. In this simple story we see Lucinda roller skating around the city learning what it means to ‘belong’, learning about ‘everyday people’ and within the same year learning through experience of the big questions of life and death. Behind the apparent simplicity I could not help but reflect upon the generation of young Lucindas and their experiences as they yearn for such freedom.

Full of imagination Lucinda exclaims ‘I have joined a lucky orphanage’ and is excited at the thought of sleeping in a folding bed. We hear later of how books filled a large portion of her inner world – many then listed will be familiar to us as we see them in the lists of today, like Peter Boxall’s 1001 Books to Read Before You Die. I loved the her joy and love of playing with words!

Ruth Sawyer tells us ‘Nature had succeeded in pumping her full of ideas and energy which ran amuck when not worked off’. Needless to say books inspired her and she, rather like us wanted to share that love. We hear how Lucinda while reading Shakespeare to Tony ‘She noticed with a quickening eye how the imagery caught at Tony’s spirit. He sucked in his breath at this new discovery of beauty in words’. How wonderful is that !

Despite being of a different era I loved the language used and the way in which that love of language is so much to the fore throughout this book! Highly recommended.