young adult

The Latte Rebellion

brittany — Sat, 09 Apr 2011 08:00:00 +0000

Asha Jamison’s classmates are quick to categorize her. She is called both a “towelhead” and “barely Asian.” Asha and her best friend Carey have a harder time describing their own ethnicities. Asha is part Indian, part Mexican, and part Irish, while Carey is half Chinese and half Caucasian. When they begin describing themselves as lattes—a mix of coffee and milk—they start brainstorming ways to distribute their idea to other multiethnic teens and coffee lovers. The Latte Rebellion is born, first only through t-shirt sales that Asha and Carey hope to use for a post-graduation trip but spiraling quickly into a viral social movement.

Things get out of hand, though, when other chapters of the movement take the message too far. Asha promotes peaceful rallies, but others resort to hate speech and violence. The Latte Rebellion becomes targeted as a terrorist group, and Asha is forced to go before the school board for a disciplinary hearing as a result of her involvement. Now more than ever, Asha must find her voice and speak out for what The Latte Rebellion is truly about: empowerment, belonging, and identity.

Sarah Jamila Stevenson’s The Latte Rebellion sports a gorgeously textured cover, and it was the side-by-side glossy and matte finishes that lured me into the book initially. I can’t help but be tempted by a delicious-looking cup of coffee. While I couldn’t always identify with Asha’s struggle, I admired the book’s promotion of mixed-ethnicity understanding and acceptance. I was rooting for Asha, though after reading a book about advocacy—albeit a fictional one—I would have liked to have gotten more riled up. Throughout much of the novel, it was hard to accept that these teens cared about much more than their t-shirt sales, vacation plans, and cute guys. They are teenagers, after all.

The Latte Rebellion is founded on a solid premise, but its message is one that can be grasped quickly from the first few chapters. Much of the remainder dragged on and on. Unfortunately, I found this book to be short on substance, too much milk and not enough coffee. (If you are not a fan of the latte metaphor, this book is most certainly not for you, as they are used in abundance.) Perhaps teens who can relate better to Asha’s quest will find more meaning behind The Latte Rebellion’s manifesto and pursue their own journey toward social change. As for me, I’ll stick with the coffee and the cool t-shirt.

Written by: Melanie Goodman, April 9th 2011

Parachuting

mandy — Sat, 02 Apr 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Leora Freedman

Sumach Press

Those who are avid readers often fondly remember the books that seemed to have changed our lives. Many of the books that have stuck with me, I read during my teenage years. Adolescence is a time in life when people struggle with identity and seek to be understood. The books we connect with at this time can be an extremely powerful influence—sometimes as powerful as a friend, a counselor, or a family member.

Not much time has passed since I was a teen, but young adult books seem a lot different to me now. More appear open and honest about the struggles actual kids go through, and Parachuting by Leora Freedman is this kind of book. It doesn't shy away from delving into the realistic challenges of the main character, sixteen-year-old Zoe Diamond. There is no sugarcoating in this book, thankfully!

Parachuting is Freedman's second novel, a follow up to Ivory Pomegranate, which won several awards in Israel. This book is a coming of age novel in which Zoe struggles with a suicidal best friend, a confusing crush on her Hebrew School teacher, and asking big questions about life and identity. She has sex, cuts class, and smokes pot—all things I imagine would make her more relatable to teenage readers.

Freedman is spot-on in writing a believably self-absorbed teenager. So, given that I was reading Parachuting as an adult, it was sometimes annoying to be immersed back in that phase of life. But the feelings explored throughout the book—confusion, anger, depression—are ones we can all understand.

It would have been interesting to delve deeper into some of the issues touched only on the surface in the book, like the state of the Israeli-Palestinian conflict in 1973 or the race relations at Zoe's school. Hannah Senesh, the real-life Israeli parachuter whom Zoe admires, has a very fascinating biography, and it would have been neat to hear more about her in the story. A strong female role model in a YA book is always a good thing!

It was refreshing to read a young adult novel that deals with the important themes of queerness and trauma. Freedman treats her readers with respect, wrestling with the true challenges of being a teenager rather then pretending high school is the best time of our lives.

Written by: Lesley Kartali, April 2nd 2011

Chasing Alliecat

barbara — Wed, 23 Mar 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Rebecca Fjelland Davis

Flux

In this action-packed thriller written for a young adult audience, author Rebecca Fjelland Davis brings multiple themes to the forefront, places them on the table and gets dirty—dirty as in riding mountain bikes in the woods of a small town and scarily getting involved with some unsavory characters in the wilds of northern Minnesota. With a plot interwoven with themes of death, friendship, family, and abuse, this novel provokes your senses and makes it all worthwhile. At the end of the novel, you hope for a sequel, because you want to know what is going to happen next for the well-drawn characters.

Sixteen-year old protagonist Sadie Lester arrives to stay with her aunt and uncle's home in the woods for the summer and expects the worst. Hoping to escape from her eternally fretting aunt and her wacky uncle, Sadie takes her bike out for a spin and meets Allison Baker (known as Alliecat). Alliecat appears a bit rough around the edges, but she eagerly invites Sadie to ride with her and to enter a mountain bike competition upcoming in the area. She also keeps her life mysteriously guarded; this curious character keeps the the story flowing. Soon after becoming friends the two girls, along with Sadie's cousin Joe, come upon a nearly dead body in the woods. Uncharacteristically, Alliecat disappears, leaving both Sadie and Joe to face new worries.

Along with her complex handling of the plot, Davis also lends her experience as a serious bicyclist to the novel. References to contemporary cyclists and technical bicycle machinery dot the surface of the novel as the story unfolds. The camaraderie of the bicycling community offers a support system for the main characters as they experience fear in dealing with difficult situations.

This story keeps the reader guessing. The mystery unfolds as the characters mindfully try to figure out what is going on and how to protect themselves. Multiple themes, many of them somewhat mature (including death, relationships, and abuse), become a little overwhelming, but the author delivers enough information to tie up loose ends as well as to insert her ideas of the young peoples' thoughts and needs to make the story complete.

Winner of the honorable mention in the Loft Award for Children's Literature/Older Children, Chasing Alliecat is quite an accomplishment. Davis opens up an amazing door of adventure.

Written by: Carolyn Espe, March 23rd 2011

Trapped

mandy — Thu, 17 Feb 2011 08:00:00 +0000

By Michael Northrop

Scholastic Press

School is let out early because of a massive blizzard. Everyone is supposed to get home before the weather gets worse. But Scotty Weems and his friends decide to stay after for a couple hours to work on a shop project, figuring that one of their parents will be able to pick them up on the way home from work. This turns out to be a really bad (and really deadly) decision. Along with several other students and one teacher, they are trapped in the school by the snow. And it keeps coming. And coming.

It doesn’t take long before this becomes a survival story. The students must grow increasingly resourceful after their teacher leaves for help and never returns. They lose power, meaning no light or heat, and the food is locked away behind the cafeteria doors. As the snow continues piling up outside, the teens are forced to question whether they’ll ever make it out, and what will be left for them if they do.

Trapped has been compared to The Breakfast Club because the characters, like those in the classic movie, come from diverse backgrounds, initially knowing little about each other. They form snap judgments based on reputations and rumors. However, they must learn a little more about each other and work together if they ever want to make it out alive.

Michael Northrop’s Trapped is a chilling thriller that makes a perfect winter read so long as you enjoy being terrified. I read it while the snow was coming down outside, and my paranoia made the book all the better. At least while the school’s roof was shuddering from the weight of the snow, I could be curled up on my couch under several blankets drinking hot chocolate.

I would like to give a huge thumbs up to the design team for an amazing cover, and awesome images throughout the book that show the snow getting higher and higher at the start of each chapter. I assume that the final text will resemble the ARC and keep these visual elements intact.

Beyond that, Scotty Weems is an engaging, conversational narrator who I think even reluctant readers will find appealing. His simple and up-front language makes this book easy to breeze through in an evening. He comes across as a realistic teen guy. (I keep wanting to say “he’s a real boy” in Pinocchio’s voice.) This also means that he is often immature, and his language is sprinkled with “likes” and “uhs,” which didn’t bother me, but may annoy some readers.

I loved every page of Trapped, except for the very last one. I didn’t want it to end and I would have preferred more resolution and closure. I’m a needy reader; I want answers!! In all seriousness, though, this was an excellent book that surprised me by just how dark it got. I’ve heard that Northrop’s other book, Gentlemen, is similarly dark and gritty, so I’m looking forward to reading that as well.

Cross-posted at Reclusive Bibliophile

Written by: Melanie Goodman, February 17th 2011

XVI

mandy — Thu, 10 Feb 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Julia Karr

Speak

XVI is not a feminist novel.

I’m opening my review with this caveat because, as someone who owns a dog-eared copy of The Feminine Mystique, whose heroes are Margaret Atwood and Ursula Le Guin, and who has, at times, stopped shaving her armpits (sometimes one just can’t be bothered), accounts of feminist content in Julia Karr’s debut were definitely a selling point for me.

The premise of XVI initially make it sound as if it has feminist potential. In the near-future, girls are allowed to have sex on their sixteenth birthdays; at this time, they’re tattooed with the roman numerals “XVI” on their wrists to advertise their sexual availability. In public, they’re sexually harassed, raped, and assaulted, but in private, lower class women are expected to maintain their purity so that they might be elected to serve as female companions to high ranking men on colonies out in space, a career move that their government promises will elevate their families above their impoverished origins.

Although this is, undeniably, a discussion of the dual pressures that young girls face in our society both to be sexual and remain pure, the ultimate conclusions of XVI seems to be little more than tut-tutting about the sluttiness of teens. And therein lies the problem with this sort of narrative—too much of a focus on the evils of sexuality; the animalistic, uncontrollable urges of men; and the goodness of girls who choose to abstain—particularly when it’s aimed at teens. Readers are left with something that’s no better than a fifties morality tale where our intrepid heroine ends up pregnant, destitute, or dead—all because she chooses to have sex. In this way, XVI sets up a false dichotomy for girls: “defend” your virginity, and have depth, and don’t die (or have lighter fluid poured on your face, and be set on fire), or be a shallow, mindless “sex-teen” who wears revealing clothing, enjoys flirting, and ultimately bites it in the end.

The only hint at complexity here is during a scene where the main character, Nina, realizes that—oh, my my!—she might actually enjoy having sex. I had hopes that this would lead to some discussion of healthy and safe ways for teens to explore their sexuality, but instead, she’s relieved of the possible burden of doing it when Sal tells her that he doesn’t want her to be a “sex-teen” either. Phew! All this would be fine, except there’s no hint of the real, myriad joys of sex, or how a teenager can keep herself safe while exploring her sexuality in this world. (Any way I can get an old copy of Our Bodies, Ourselves packaged with this book? I feel like we’ve fallen so far since the nineteen seventies.)

So, no, XVI is not a feminist book. But it did have something going for it: the characters. Nina and her friends were, without exception, well-rendered and interesting. More, they were incredibly true-to-life. Even Sandy, Nina’s sex-teen friend with whom she has a somewhat combative relationship, was sympathetic; their complicated friendship reminded me of fading friendships I shared with other girls as a teenager. And Nina has two male friends—Mike and Derek—real, platonic friends who act like real, messy boys. I can’t recall any YA novel I’ve read lately that’s done guy friends nearly so well.

Karr has significant room to grow on a prose and pacing level. But her approach to teenagers is still excellent, despite my feminist reservations about her chosen themes. There’s promise here, undeniably—even though XVI was sort of a hammy, poorly-conceived outing, I’ll be keeping an eye out for Karr’s future works.

Read the full review at Phoebe's personal blog

Written by: Phoebe North, February 10th 2011

Luka and the Fire of Life

mandy — Sat, 05 Feb 2011 16:00:00 +0000

By Salman Rushdie

Random House

The world according to Salman Rushdie post-fatwa is a very bad place. If his books from this era are anything to go by, most people are judgmental, small-minded, and intolerant. In this book, and its prequel Haroun and the Sea of Stories, Rushdie is passing that same worldview on to his sons. Buried under verbal twists and turns and puns and slapstick, Luka and the Fire of Life is about a boy undertaking a quest through a mythical world (created, it seems, by his father’s stories) to save his father’s life. He braves great challenges and finds courage he did not know he had. Ostensibly, Luka is on a quest to find his own voice, but the voice he actually finds his father’s.

While I was reading the book, I kept trying to imagine a twelve-year-old boy reading it, but I couldn’t. The references to video games are a bit sad—like a sixty-year-old father trying to appear cool by getting into what his pre-teen son likes—and wouldn’t fool any kid. The adventures were too wordy and too weighty to really pull me along, let alone a mile-a-minute boy. Luka and the Fire of Life left me with an overwhelming sense of a man desperate to prove his own relevance—to everyone, but maybe mostly to his son.

And where is Luka’s mother in all this? Soraya is a flat character, given to pronouncements about how hilarious the men in her family are, more often tut-tutting than actually speaking. She sits uselessly by Rashid’s bedside while her son goes out to save the world. I wondered what kind of quest Rushdie would think of for her if he could. She does appear in an alternate form in the fantasy world, helping Luka on his way, but she does not present any counterweight to his father or his father’s image of the world.

Rushdie was at his peak with The Satanic Verses, a book I believe was as close to genius as anything written in this generation, when Rushdie was forced into hiding. It is impossible to imagine the impact a worldwide death sentence would have on a creative mind, but if Rushdie’s books of this era are any indication, then the fatwa killed the spark built in Rushdie’s early work.

I remember the hate and the close-mindedness of the fatwa; for many in the West, it may have been one the first glimpses of the power and reach of extremist Islam. But I also remember the courage of the many who stood with Rushdie and protected him in those years. I remember rallies at University and writers and others risking their lives to stand up for Rushdie. Where is that alternate worldview in his books? Tragically for his readers, Rushdie seems yet to see this side of this momentous event.

It seems like today—when religious extremisms and hate seem to be winning the war of words, when secularism and so-called blasphemy can get even the Governor of Punjab killed—Rushdie could help us see the other realities. He could show the world beyond it and behind it, not just point us through it, as if it were the only truth and, like it or not, we have to navigate it, with just a dancing bear and a singing dog and a few words of advice from an aging storyteller. I want the Rushdie of The Satanic Verses back; he really knew how to cut the legs out from under the small-minded power of intolerance.

Written by: Khadijah Fancy, February 5th 2011

The Way It Is

mandy — Wed, 19 Jan 2011 20:00:00 +0000

By Donalda Reid

Second Story Press

Donalda Reid is gutsy to take on heavy racial undertones in her first novel They Way It Is. The story is historical fiction; although, aside from the creation of the main characters, this young adult book is more history than fiction.

Ellen Manery is quietly outspoken and smart. Your typical bookworm with big city ideas, Ellen is considered to be a radical in the small, Canadian town her parents forced her to move to. You have to feel sorry for Ellen, who is more comfortable with books than people, and starts her senior year at a new school where students and teachers alike believe she is way too ambitious for a girl.

All of this starts to change when we meet Tony Paul, a schoolmate of Ellen's who is seemingly as subdued as she is. As the friendship grows between this Shuswap Indian and former city girl, the reader starts to see the racial equality struggles of Canadians take shape. They Way It Is isn't just another book about racial discrimination. Donalda Reid makes it relatable; she doesn't just point out facts, she makes the reader live them.

The biggest lesson in The Way It Is is that while race gets in the way of many things, we don't have to let it. People create the dividing lines between people of different races and ethnicities. And if harmony and acceptance are employed, racism will no longer be justified as simply the way it is.

Written by: Nina Lopez-Ortiz, January 19th 2011

The Keening

priyanka — Sat, 11 Dec 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By A. LaFaye

Milkweed Editions

A. LaFaye’s The Keening is one part poem, and one part novel. Though the narrative is strong, it is the layered, considered language, and the dance with fantasy that make this novel something special. Both a modern-day ghost story and young adult novel, the book is complex, something that can’t be tied to just one genre.

This book’s protagonist, Lyza, lives with her father on the fringe of a Maine fishing village. With the family’s feet dug deep into fantasy and another foot tipped towards reality, the village doesn’t quite understand them. After her mother’s death from the 1918 influenza epidemic, Lyza has to decide whether she will head to Portland to take a college examination or stay and save her father from those who do not understand his obsessions.

Like many teenagers, Lyza is unsure of her place in the world. Often, she feels as though she has been “orphaned” from her family’s talents and creativity: her mother’s knack for sewing and her father’s carvings. This feeling of otherness or isolation is not helped by her oddball parents who are content to live away from the village. Mater and Pater, as Lyza calls them, do not care that the town ostracizes them or that they are talked about. They are comfortable in their world of sewing, carving, and creation.

Once her mother passes, Lyza’s search for her identity intertwines with the plight to save her father from being institutionalized. Soon, she taps into her family’s heritage and sees the souls in her father’s wood carvings. Like many children who shy away from the thing that makes them different, Lyza realizes that she is not unlike her father, her talents are otherworldly, and that much will need to be done to mend the wounds between her mother’s family, her father, and the different worlds between which she is caught.

The joy of this book is when the descriptions are subtle yet layered. The characterization in this novel is punctuated by sharp descriptions. For example, LaFaye writes “...Mater liked her meals with the tides—breaking her fast as it went out, setting down to supper when it came in, preferring to eat as gulls do between times—pecking at this or that...” In just a few sentences, Mater’s personality is chiseled to perfection.

If there is a misstep to the novel, it is its ending. Here, the speaker tries to wrap up each string or piece of the future: mentioning “the staircase leading up the cliff to home. To college. To anywhere the spirits and the Good Lord cared to lead me.” The final sections of the novel explain too much: The speaker’s realizations about paths—whether or not Kingsley Cove could be emptied out—seem too loud for such a dream-focused novel. The strength of the novel is diluted when the speaker puts her feet on the ground.

It’s moments like when Lyza’s Pater looks up and sees “angels in meteors” or when the writer describes her friend, Jake, and his inability to stand up to his father as “folding like a church lady’s fan” that this novel shines. The poetry in this novel is sharp and layered like Pater’s wood carvings. When Lyza finally learns not to “trip over her talent,” it’s like the glow of a lantern on a dark day. Soon, Lyza learns that if she paddles long enough, keeps her eyes, mind, and heart open, and listens to what’s around her, the shore is sure to come.

Written by: Lisa Bower, December 10th 2010

Guardian Spirit

alicia — Fri, 05 Nov 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Sarah Martin Byrd

Lucky Press

Every good young adult book needs a strong adolescent female heroine, and Guardian Spirit has one in Sadie Madison. Despite the challenges she has faced in her twelve short years, or perhaps because of them, Sadie maintains a resilient, practical core that propels her through her mother’s decision to run away from an abusive husband with Sadie and her younger brother.

The setting of Guardian Spirit is as much a part of the story as the drama that unfolds, offering the reader a vivid look at the mountains of North Carolina and giving the physical surroundings a role in sheltering this family both physically and spiritually. The depiction of the Cherokee people in the more mystical elements of the narrative does seem like a rehash of stereotypes, but nonetheless adds richness and depth as seen through the eyes of a twelve-year-old girl who is eager to learn and experience the natural world around her. Sadie discovers that each of her family members has a guardian spirit that watches over them and can help unlock their own special gifts.

Many women who choose to flee their abusers find themselves isolated and frightened, and this is certainly true for the Madisons, but a community of sorts begins to create itself around them as they venture out to meet their practical needs. It is ultimately their willingness to accept help and honor the mysterious signs that continue to present themselves that keeps this family safe.

While there are some difficult themes of abuse and suicide in the book, they are handled with honesty and delicacy and do not detract from the underlying story of this family who is learning to trust that creating a new life for themselves is possible. Guardian Spirit will entertain young adult and adult readers alike with its interesting twist on the issue of domestic violence.

Written by: Kari O'Driscoll, November 5th 2010

8th Grade Superzero

alicia — Fri, 08 Oct 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By Olugbemisola Rhuday Perkovich

Arthur A. Levine Books

Reggie "Pukey" McKnight has decided to run for class president of his eighth grade because he believes that "it's not negative to want to make things better" and he's tired of the school elections being a popularity contest that promises outrageous things that will never get done. He hasn't been popular since “The Incident”—not that he was every really popular, but now he's even more uncool. (“The Incident” is not fully explained in detail until much later in the novel, but it’s embarrassing.) With the help of his two best friends, Ruthie and Joe C., Reggie's out to prove that you can win if you really believe in something, even if you’re unpopular. He's doing it for the underdogs.

Reggie is flawed but lovably human. He makes mistakes and tries to fix them, and he passionately believes in helping the homeless, specifically at the local shelter, Olive Branch. At first, Reggie wasn't thrilled about helping out at a homeless shelter, but he grows to really like his work there and feels what he's doing is important. Reggie is very dedicated and is a classic example of someone viewed as a “nerd” who is really sweet and hardworking.

Reggie's father is a happy-go-lucky kind of person, despite being unemployed. That's a unique element of the story that some readers may be able to relate to. Reggie’s father is constantly frustrated with his search for employment, and while not all readers may be able to relate to that, many of us have had to deal with family and friends who are unemployed or stressed out about their jobs. As a character, Reggie's mother isn't as developed, as she is working all day and spends little time with Reggie or his sister.

Other interesting characters populate Reggie's life, too. His older sister Monica grows from being a big, scary jock to a big, scary girly girl. Reggie's best friend Ruthie is a compassionate, religious (but not to the point of fanaticism) and loyal, a "strong black woman." who's Jamaican and proud. Ruthie is revolutionary, and can be a little bossy and overbearing, but she truly wants to do the right thing.

Joe C. is "the white boy" who wants to be a DJ. He and Reggie deal with the more subtle side to racism because they realize that they make certain assumptions about each other based on stereotypes. They are true friends, however, and it's great to see their friendship grow. I didn't understand the whole deal with Mialonie, Reggie's crush. They seemed to get along fine, although she is portrayed as a little materialistic. Their relationship is never really clarified until it is resolved toward the end.

My issue with this novel is that it was a little too preachy and summed up all these valuable lessons in the last few pages. I think readers would have picked up on the lessons just fine without the summarizing. Still, the plot build up is well written and the topics discussed are very real and important on both a global level and a personal one. I was pleased at how social justice was woven into the plot, and that the personal angst-ridden issues pre-teens face aren't belittled. That's very important in a middle grade novel.

8th Grade Superzero reminded me of my middle school days (granted that was only three years ago!) and is funny, uplifting, and very cute. The author's voice is authentic; the students all act and speak the way middle school students would. The book contains some of the most unique and engaging characters I’ve come across, with a good plot and good writing to boot. Win-win.

Written by: Ari @ Reading in Color, October 7th 2010

Mockingjay

admin — Thu, 26 Aug 2010 17:31:00 +0000

By Suzanne Collins

Scholastic Press

Mockingjay has finally arrived to conclude the breathtaking trilogy that began in 2006 with the conclusively-titled The Hunger Games. And this time, things have changed. In global effect, for better or worse, the main characters are bringing the furious fight to the enemy’s doorstep, in an act of rousing rebellion. But do they prevail? Well, I can’t answer that.

In Mockingjay, Collins holds her own under external pressure to show the blunted faces of the worst brought out in humanity, but also the best of what makes us human, compatible life forces willing to love, to teach, and to learn in the shadows of dark times. What was merely a sadistic game of cat-and-mouse is now a battleground, a fledgling place where heroes are born and lives are lost. Every punch is pulled, which is not to say the first and second books didn't contain conflict, but things are now broadened on the horizon. The characters realize they have entered an alien place, a wildfire atmosphere only done justice by a single word: war.

What really propels this book is its characters, particularly Katniss, who fight for what they believe in and stand alongside those they love. Each play pivotal roles in supporting each other, and adds a unique back story, just when you thought everything was already revealed. Loyalties are tested and occasional twists paint a very thin line between good and evil, relishing in the fact that, as human beings, we are collections of both.

Any age can enjoy this book; however, the content is some of the most unwaveringly brutal and violent written work on the young adult market. Accusing The Hunger Games of glorifying violence is putting a very narrow perspective on things. The violence is there because it is necessary, willing to achieve a point by demonstrating the calculating monstrosities of war, warning readers about the implications of certain decisions, and feeling powerless to stop others of a higher social status.

The inclusion of a strong female heroine give a sense of feminism to the book. At times, Katniss remained stricken, almost too conflicted, but it is a foreplay, a buildup to the explosive climax. She learns things about herself, growing as a person. It is the emotion, what we feel in our heart, not the misguided actions that make us for who we are. Everyone has a flaw, whether it be acid, spiders, or fear itself.

All the while, Collins maintains the pacing she keeps in the previous two. I was floored from the first page all to the way to the spectacular last. Small things are left unanswered, forcing the reader to come away from the experience to visualize, decoding what they think and understand.

By the time I finished, Mockingjay left me conflicted but satisfied, ruminating on the implications of what I read. Thankfully, it was a virtuoso performance I will not forget in a hurry. And not many books can do that. In a sense, young adult literature has some startlingly powerful messages to deliver, even branded for a younger generation. Older readers, and even fully-fledged adults, would find much to enjoy here.

Mockingjay delivers a stark limelight of the gratuitous impact of war on life, and examines the most powerful force on the planet through post-trauma, blood, tears, and the unbreakable substance of love. It is a masterful conclusion to an already groundbreaking series in young adult literature. If you haven’t experienced the raw potential for what The Hunger Games is all about, then I highly recommend doing so.

Excerpted from Literary Musings

Written by: Dan Goodman, August 26th 2010

Fearless Female Journalists

admin — Fri, 23 Jul 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Joy Crysdale

Second Story Press

Fearless Female Journalists is a set of ten short profiles of female reporters, photojournalists, and newscasters hailing from various times and places over the last two centuries.

Among the women featured is one of the early pioneers of modern journalism: nineteenth-century American newspaperwoman Nellie Bly, a daredevil stunt reporter. Nelly Bly is perhaps most famous for circumnavigating the globe in seventy-three days in an era before airplanes, but she also took on assignments designed to do good as well as to make a splash. For example, she got herself admitted as a patient to the Women's Lunatic Asylum on Blackwell's Island in order to expose the terrible conditions there. In a later chapter, we meet Anna Politkovskaya, a Russian reporter who, despite her privileged origins as the daughter of diplomats, made the decision to risk–and ultimately lose–her life in order to report on the Russian occupation of Chechnya. (Politkovskaya was assassinated on October 7, 2006, at age forty-eight.) The book closes with a portrait of Thembi Ngubane, a young South African woman who recorded an audio journal about her life with AIDS as part of an effort to end the stigma around AIDS, as well as to push the South African government to acknowledge the tragic proportions of the AIDS epidemic.

The book is geared towards children–I estimate that it is most appropriate for an audience aged seven to eleven. The profiles are attractive and highly readable, complete with photographs and sidebars containing “fun facts.” The stories are entertaining and inspiring, and the selection of featured journalists reflects some variety in terms of era, type of journalism, and nationality (although the book still skews heavily toward heterosexual North American white women). Unfortunately, the book does have a downside–it is written from a “nice, liberal” standpoint, in which history is presented as an inexorable march towards progress, driven by a few exceptionally determined actors. This perspective glorifies individual high-profile “heroines” while erasing the history of communal struggle. It also obscures the reality that, in most cases, the few exceptional people who “make it big” do so not because they are more courageous or determined than thousands of others, but rather because they got lucky or started out with some “extras,” such as racial or class privilege.

The book reaches its nadir at the beginning of the final chapter, when it begins the profile of Thembi Ngubane by blatantly exoticizing her ethnicity: “Thembi Ngubane had a beautiful voice. Like her name, it was wonderfully African. Her voice flowed and lilted and swam around words, especially words with ‘r’ in them."

While I enjoyed reading Fearless Female Journalists and learning about the ten outstanding women profiled within, I could have happily done without the book’s uncritical, unconscious approach to the narrative of history and social change.

Written by: Ri J. Turner, July 23rd 2010

Claire de Lune

admin — Sun, 04 Jul 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Christine Johnson

Simon Pulse

Claire de Lune, Christine Johnson’s debut novel, is a good, but not standout, addition to werewolf lit. The simple way that this twist on werewolf lore is presented will make it a quick and satisfying read to ardent werewolf lovers, though it will have a tougher time winning the hearts of others.

In Claire de Lune, Johnson introduces us to a different type of paranormal world, in which only females can be werewolves. It’s not a feminist book, per se, but the dynamic that this sets up allows Claire to grow into a strong and self-reliant girl/werewolf. Here, it’s the girl protecting the boy, not the usual other way around.

Having a girl be the strength in a relationship would be a great story, but the book never fully lives up to its potential. Outside of Claire, I found the characters difficult to get to know, most of them only fitting roles expected to appear in a paranormal romance: the tensions among the werewolf group members, the love interest’s villainous father, the head-butting mother. I never found myself fully immersed in Claire’s family dynamics, with her mother’s Type A “bad parent” personality and their rather inconsequential au pair (who’s more a red herring than a useful character). All of Matthew’s father’s supposedly malevolent machinations and campaign against werewolves remained in the distant background and never fully took on immediacy.

I guess I’m just extra cynical when it comes to paranormal romances nowadays: it’s going to take a lot to make something stand out for me. Claire de Lune never reaches that point, but I have no doubt that it will find its audience as scores of werewolf lovers prowl the shelves for something equally supernatural and romantic after watching Twilight for the twenty-eighth time.

Written by: Steph Su Reads, July 4th 2010

The Mockingbirds

admin — Wed, 30 Jun 2010 08:00:00 +0000

By Daisy Whitney

Little Brown Books for Young Readers

I don’t know how many times I can say a book is one of the best I’ve read this year and maintain any credibility; we’ve still got quite a few months left in 2010, so I guess we’ll find out. The thing is, I’m pretty convinced that this is a golden age for YA, and Daisy Whitney’s The Mockingbirds really is a phenomenal debut novel–one of the best I’ve read this year.

Last summer, I took a Children’s Lit class at Cal State University, Northridge. During the course of a discussion on censorship, which everyone was unanimously against initially, we began to question whether there were any topics that people would really consider off limits for YA or children’s lit. When students started to consider what they might not want their own children to read, people discovered that they all had boundaries, each person has some point at which they would be uncomfortable having a kid or teen read a book. For many people, that boundary was rape. Now, I acknowledge the right of any parent to determine what is acceptable for their own child to read, but of course that is extremely different from determining what other people’s children should be allowed to read. The fact is that, according to several studies I found, about forty percent of reported rape cases occurred to people under the age of eighteen. Rape happens to teens far too often, and they have a right to read about it.

In The Mockingbirds, Alex is raped after a drunken night out at a club. She wakes up the next morning in a boy’s room, naked, and discovers two condoms in the trashcan. The trouble is that Alex can barely remember anything that happened that night, but her friends know that she was in no condition to consent. Alex attends a progressive boarding school where punishment is rarely meted out because the school believes the students can do no wrong, but a group of students called the Mockingbirds serve as the school’s vigilante justice system, taking students’ punishments into their own hands. After Alex’s rape, the Mockingbirds become protectors, judges, and jurors. As the investigation and trial are underway, Alex begins to remember bits and pieces of what happened to her, and she knows that the sex was not consensual.

Whitney’s book, inspired by her own experience of being date raped in college, is vividly and powerfully written. I was on the verge of tears throughout most of it. This is not to say that the book didn’t have light moments, because there certainly are some, but the overall intensity and my amazement at what I was reading kept me pretty emotional. In addition to Whitney’s beautiful capturing of Alex’s feelings throughout the book, she also did an impressive job incorporating details from Harper Lee’s To Kill a Mockingbird, on which the school’s justice system is based. (However, those who haven’t read the classic will find that enough explanation is provided to understand everything in this book anyway. But they should still read Harper Lee’s book because it is truly one of the best of all time.) The book was clearly well researched all around, from the descriptions of the classical music Alex plays to Martin the science geek’s mini-lessons on bird intellect. Martin and the other supporting characters were also thoroughly fleshed out, each one with their own story that adds to the book’s strength.

The Mockingbirds shows readers that there can be consequences to stupid drunken behavior, but that if you are raped, you are still the victim and you still have options. It also portrays the importance of speaking out, because even if you will never be who you were before, you cannot let the rape eat away at you and define you forever. In Whitney’s book, Alex does not reach out to any authorities, but she still finds a support system within her school and makes it clear that you do not have to be alone. The novel is never preachy, nor does it stray into feminist manifesto, but it does lend a voice to those who often have difficulty finding their own. At the end of the book, Whitney shares some of her own story and provides resources for people who have experienced sexual assault.

Cross-posted at Reclusive Bibliophile

Written by: Melanie Goodman, June 30th 2010

Girl Parts

admin — Tue, 29 Jun 2010 00:00:00 +0000

By John M. Cusick

Candlewick Press

I almost wrote realistic fiction for the category on this book—and it's basically about robots. I know that's a weird start to a review, but that's how I felt about the book. This story is about the Internet age and how it's keeping people connected online... but totally separate in real life. One company decided that the way to cure alienation for the many boys who waste their days online was to create a girl for them! A really hot, really devoted girl.

At first, my feminist sense started going off when I heard the premise. I mean, all a boy wants is a chick to love him? Really? That's all it takes? Surely there's a lot of fallout from that whole idea. And that is what Girl Parts is about: the fallout for one guy and his Companion.

I felt a little better about the idea when all of the problems started showing themselves pertaining to the idea of a robot girlfriend. I'm still a little bothered that there's no dude for the girls who spend way too much time online. I mean, we all know those girls exist (I'm trying not to look in a mirror), so it's hard to believe this company decided to only make girls instead of both sexes. But that's just me, I guess.

One of the reasons Girl Parts feels like realistic fiction is that it deals mostly with relationships and how people create and maintain them. I really liked seeing how all of the different characters interacted with each other. You see each of them from several different viewpoints, which makes the whole thing fit together really well and gives a more complete view of the characters.

I wish Girl Parts were a little longer because I feel like there were some things that could have been hashed out a little more. You get a really unlikely friendship toward the end and I would have liked to see more of how that worked out.

Despite being labeled as Young Adult, I think the subject matter is described in enough detail that it shouldn't be read by middle grade kids. It's a bit too graphic for them. For lack of a more in depth explanation, there's a bit sexual content. Oh, and some drug use as well. Just FYI.

Written by: Emily @ The Ninja Librarian, June 28th 2010