Wednesday, April 25, 2007

Tamar


Mal Peet's Tamar won the Carnegie Medal last year, for 2005.

When I put up a cover image earlier, the color was wrong. I didn't realize until now that the lettering too was wrong. This is the American edition , published by Candlewick Press is Cambridge, Massachusetts (2007). Mal Peet's named is not blazoned across the cover, I guess because he's not widely known here.

While promoted as a Young Adult novel (or, as they still consider it in England, children's fiction) the book centers around an older adult, Tamar, a grandfather and former World War II resistance fighter in Holland during the war, working undercover in dangerous territory. Another Tamar, his granddaughter, undertakes a present day journey of discovery into the past, providing the frame for the novel.

Throughout, the story is completely absorbing, combining suspense and intrigue, romance, memory and discovery, friendship and betrayal, anticipation and surprise. Peet's writing is deft and enchanting. The novel transcends age designations -- it's for teenage and above and demonstrates why people should pay more attention to "children's fiction."

Monday, April 9, 2007

Carnegie Medal Books


I'm reading Mal Peet's Tamar, and while not ready to write about it I'm engrossed in the world of British children's and young adult books. It seems to me, without having researched the topic, that the Carnegie Medal winners are, on the whole, much longer and meatier books than those chosen in the US for the Newbery Medal. What's behind this? One immediate answer is that maybe British young people are smarter, or more inclined to read, because, after all, the US is way ahead in wealth and therefore gizmos, so our kids are more likely to be playing the World of Warcraft than to be reading a hefty novel. But this seems too easy an explanation to be true. Maybe here we consciously choose books for the 8-12 year old range for the Newbery (they're all pretty "safe") and relegate the YA novels to another sphere, one formerly unvisited by award-givers but now recognized by the Michael Printz award. (The Coretta Scott King winners span a wide range and are, of course, self-limited.) If this is the case, then why have the teenagers been neglected for so long here, but not in Britain? I don't know but will look it up.
In the meantime, I've found a treasure trove of stuff at the Carnegie site at http://www.carnegiegreenaway.org.uk and have just spent an hour or more on a Sunday evening scanning the site and viewing interviews and other great stuff.
More to come. And as for tonight's bedtime reading, choosing between Aciman and Peet, I think I'll go with Peet and leave Aciman for tomorrow's sunny afternoon. Very different books they are, and both very fine.

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

I'm getting messages in my brain

In M. T. Anderson's Feed, people's brains are fitted with an implant that feeds pop and consumer culture to them all day long, and people shop just to be shopping. Sound familiar? It could almost be now but instead is an imagined future, where teens party on the moon for spring break, and all anyone cares about is what's new. For Titus, a thoughtful boy, meeting a girl, Violet, who has never had the feed causes him to question the conditions of his life. Violet cares about things that others don't even think about. Titus's efforts to be her friend and include her in his social group are encouraging but in the end frustrating. A quick read, with refreshing new slang, this novel should make people think hard about what influences us today, in our own consumer culture. Recommended for teens and up.

Monday, April 2, 2007

A Baseball Novel for all ages and both genders


I first read my school library's paperback copy of Striking Out by Will Weaver and was immediately engrossed and also surprised that a young adult sports novel could be so fine. The book had been well-reviewed, and it didn't look too long, so I picked it up. Now there are three "Billy Baggs" novels: Striking Out, then Farm Team, and then Hard Ball , which I've just read and want to comment on here.
Hard Ball is an immediately gripping novel of a freshman in high school, a farm boy, who happens to be a rising star as a pitcher. As the book opens, it's late summer, just before school opens, and a bunch of western Minnesota kids are on a bus, on their way to see the Twins in the big city. In the course of the game, our hero, Billy, will be hit in the mouth by a fast ball and will as a result come into possession of a signed major league glove and two partially silver front teeth. A good beginning for a year in which he will first endure and then face his rival, the other star pitcher in the school, a rich kid who wants the same girl as Billy. Add into the mix two problematic and controlling fathers (on opposite sides of the track socially, and one father a judge who has once sent the other to jail), and an insightful coach who could rival King Solomon, and you've got a great story that mixes together high school life, teenage romance, farm kids and rich suburban kids, plus two kids who hate each other but come to find some deep similarities , make it all revolve around baseball , and you've got a deep but fast-moving novel. As a female reader, I had a few tears in my eyes at a few points. But I don't think male readers would cry.

Suitable for junior high and up.
Now I've got to get hold of Farm Team.

Sunday, April 1, 2007

Mistmantle, Part II

Two more observations I forgot to make about Mistmantle. Both are differences from Redwall, or new motifs. One is the use of alcohol as a tool of villainy by Husk and Aspen. What a wonderful inclusion in a book for children, to show the dimming power of wine on the old king's faculties and his strong recapturing of his mind and will when he begins to drink clear spring water. I have no problem at all with the animals' enjoyment of wine, beer, and cordials in Redwall, as they are shown as a good part of a healthful life. But the abuse of alcohol in Mistmantle is very vivid and dramatically instructive.
The other element is the somewhat more explicit religious beliefs in Mistmantle. The fact that the animals invoke a higher power shows the value in a community of spiritual belief. McAllister is brilliant in her use of "Heart" as a term of address to this power, thereby avoiding reference to any religion known today.. When I read the book, I thought this was her invention. But volume two, Urchin and the Heartstone, begins with a quotation from an eight century Irish hymn: Great Heart of my own heart, whatever befall/ Still be my vision, thou ruler of all. So this does come from a tradition, but one that is unfamiliar in our age. This use fits with the British setting and yet strikes the reader as new, unique to this world.

No pictures on this additional post.