Review: Eleanor & Park by Rainbow Rowell

Eleanor & Park. by Rainbow Rowell. 2013. St. Martin's Griffin. 320 pages. ISBN: 9781250031211

Eleanor has bright red hair, and a horrible stepdad. Sometimes she has to come to school without washing her clothes. She is not traditionally beautiful, and she has definitely never had a boyfriend. Park likes to blend in. He has an understanding with some of the kids in his class that keeps him from getting picked on, and mostly he keeps to himself, spending the bus ride to and from school reading comics. When Eleanor first sits down beside Park on the bus, neither is thrilled to be stuck sitting with the other. Over time, though, the awkwardness of being seat partners morphs into the awkwardness of intense first love. It can’t last; their lives will never allow it. But that doesn’t mean they won’t try to preserve the one thing they both cherish over everything else.

I had decided not to read this book, but then my friend at work came in one day flailing with joy about it, and she forced me to take it home. Worried the story was a devastating tragedy a la The Fault in Our Stars, that would destroy me and make me cry, I sat down and read the entire book in one sitting. As it turns out, this is not a purely happy book, but it also didn’t destroy me, and though I planned to read the book in one sitting so as to protect myself from lingering in suspense, I can tell I would have wanted to read it all at once anyway, because it’s just that compelling.

I didn’t completely lose my mind over it like my friend did, but there are still a lot of reasons that I liked this book:

• Eleanor and Park are characters who could exist in day-to-day life. They have believable backstories, personalities, and fears. Their behaviors, while not always admirable, are what real people might do in their same situations, and their feelings for each other develop slowly and naturally as relationships often do for real teens (and adults.)
• It’s not a romance novel. So many love stories have the requisite romance novel happy ending, which can sometimes give romances a bad reputation with a lot of teenagers, who don’t buy into the sappy idealism of story after story where the hero and heroine always end up together. This book doesn’t make promises about the future. It follows these two very specific people as their paths come together and allows the story to unfold according to the motives, feelings, and circumstances of the characters involved, without trying to force a specific, prescribed ending. I found this very refreshing.
• It's set in 1986, but it's not about the 1980s, and it doesn't try to make the 1980s seem awesome to teens who were, by definition, not alive then. Unlike The Future of Us, it doesn't throw around pop culture  references just for the sake of it, nor does the story work really hard at making us believe we're in the 80s. The story just happens to be set then, because that's when it happens, and I like that approach. I also like that the modern technology that might improve conditions for Eleanor or Park does not yet exist, so the love story is forced to evolve in secret, and in person, instead of virtually. I think that does a lot for the overall mood of the story, and it makes the ending that much more powerful.
• Rainbow Rowell makes great use of details. For example, there’s a point in the story where it is revealed that Eleanor does not own a toothbrush. Though Rowell doesn’t spell out the implications of such a problem, this fact stuck with me, and indeed worried me, as the story progressed. What if she and Park wanted to kiss? What if someone at school smelled her breath and made fun of her? How could she sneak a toothbrush into the house without her terrible stepfather finding it? This one piece of information told me so much about Eleanor’s life - much more than any other bit of exposition could have done. Rowell’s writing is so precise and evocative, that in just a few words, or with a few simple details, she paints a vivid, and sometimes haunting, picture.

Eleanor & Park is a great read to recommend to teens who like literary realistic fiction. Fans of John Green seem like the most likely candidates to become fans of this book, but even those who don’t yet know of Green will find pieces of themselves and their own lives in this well-written and at times painfully realistic story of first love.

I borrowed Eleanor & Park from my friend Christina, whose love for these characters is completely contagious.

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat. 

Review: Zero Tolerance by Claudia Mills (ARC)

Zero Tolerance. by Claudia Mills. June 18, 2013. Farrar, Straus & Giroux. 240 pages. ISBN: 9780374333126

A model student, Sierra Shepard is the least likely seventh grader to be expelled for bringing a knife to school. Unfortunately, one day, she grabs her mother’s lunch instead of her own, and her mother has packed a knife in her lunch bag, planning to use it to cut an apple. Ever the conscientious citizen, Sierra turns the knife into the school office immediately upon discovering it, assuming it will be understood that she made an honest mistake. The principal, however, is not understanding. Rather, he cites the school’s zero tolerance policy, and sends Sierra to in-school suspension pending a hearing. For the first time in her life, Sierra is treated like a criminal, and though her father is ready to shame her principal into letting her off the hook, she is less certain that she shouldn’t be punished- or that she even wants to remain in a school that treats her so harshly.

Claudia Mills has written many school stories, but none is so timely as this 21st century tale. There are often reports on the news about kids bringing weapons to school, and also occasionally about kids who are wrongly accused or wrongfully punished for breaking a school’s zero tolerance policy. This book’s earnest main character takes readers inside such a sticky situation and gives them a firsthand look at the complications and consequences of applying a zero tolerance policy to every situation. Readers also have the opportunity to watch the way Sierra reacts to her new surroundings, where the other kids truly misbehave. Not only is this the story of a girl wrongfully accused, it is also the story of how this same girl’s eyes are opened to a segment of her school’s population which she has previously ignored, and how this experience broadens her horizons.

Zero Tolerance is a book I could easily sell to fans of Andrew Clements, especially those readers who have enjoyed Troublemaker and The Landry News. The issues presented in the story make it a logical choice for book groups or for classroom discussions, not just about the concept of zero tolerance, but also about misbehavior and what it means to be “good” or “bad.” It’s also a great example of a book with flawed but believably realistic adult characters. Girls and boys alike who appreciate issue-driven middle school stories won’t be disappointed by Claudia Mills’s latest project, and those who have grown up reading her books for slightly younger readers will be glad to have this new, more mature title on their shelves.

Zero Tolerance will be out tomorrow, June 18, 2013.

I received a digital ARC of Zero Tolerance from Macmillan via NetGalley.

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat.

Old School Sunday: Tiger Eyes by Judy Blume (1981)

Tiger Eyes. by Judy Blume. 1981. Atheneum. 256 pages. ISBN: 9780689858727

As many times as I have said I am not the reader who picks up certain titles only because they’re about to be made into movies, I am once again showing myself to be exactly that reader. I had never read Judy Blume’s Tiger Eyes, and never really planned to, until I saw some buzz on a couple of blogs and list-servs about an upcoming movie. Immediately, I went to my library shelf, pulled the book, and brought it home. I guess I thought maybe I would want to see the movie. As it turns out, though, I didn’t even like the book.

Tiger Eyes is the story of fifteen-year-old Davey, whose family leaves home in Atlantic City following her father’s murder in a robbery of his convenience store. While staying with her aunt and uncle in New Mexico, Davey makes friends with a girl at school, as well as with a college student known to her only as Wolf. As she gets to know Wolf, she also starts coming to terms with what happened to her dad, ultimately finding the strength to move forward with her life.

The way people have been describing this story makes it sound like the chief focus of the storyline is Davey’s relationship with Wolf. Before reading the story myself, I made the natural assumption that this was a romantic storyline, perhaps along the lines of Polly O’Keefe’s romance with Renny in A House Like a Lotus, or Kate’s with Ian in In Summer Light. Strangely, Wolf seems to be a very minor character in Tiger Eyes, and any romantic implications are subtle and nearly non-existent. While he gives her the nickname that becomes the title of the book, he otherwise appears infrequently and plays a very small part in Davey’s overall recovery.

In fact, there is very little that happens in the story that occurs outside of Davey’s own thoughts and feelings. Tiger Eyes is a very introspective novel, all about the emotional aftermath of a life-changing traumatic event. I tend to be fine with character-driven novels like this, but because I didn’t like Davey very much, I had trouble buying into her story. I felt sorry for her, certainly, but I never entered her consciousness in a way that made me feel what she felt. I was completely detached from everything I read, and I doubt I will retain much of it after this review is written and posted.

I have plans to re-read at least one, possibly two, of the Judy Blume novels I read when I was a kid, and I’ll be curious to see whether they appeal to me now in the same way they did when I was ten. Had Tiger Eyes been my first Judy Blume novel ever, I have to admit that I would wonder why she was popular. Hopefully, I will find that Just As Long As We’re Together and Blubber hold up better under close scrutiny, and I can dismiss my lukewarm Tiger Eyes experience as a fluke.

I borrowed Tiger Eyes from my local public library. 

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat. 

Review: My Happy Life by Rose Lagercrantz

My Happy Life. by Rose Lagercrantz, illustrated by Eva Eriksson. 2010; 2013. Gecko Press. 134 pages. ISBN: 9781877579356

Dani (Daniela), who lives with her dad and her cat, has a pretty good life. True, her mom passed away when she was little, and yes, it is scary starting at a new school, but for the most part, Dani feels happy. She feels exceptionally happy when she meets Ella, the girl in her class who quickly becomes her very best friend. The two girls have lots in common, and they do everything together - sit together, play together... and when Ella has to move away, cry together. This heavily illustrated early chapter book helps young readers navigate the ups and downs of life, and encourages them to look for happiness, even in times of great sadness.

I arrived at work early one recent morning to discover that new books had been delivered while I was out sick. I picked this book up and started reading. Twenty minutes later, I had read the entire thing cover to cover. Translated from Swedish, and originally published in English in New Zealand this story stands out as decidedly different from many other chapter books on this same subject. The way the author uses language really evokes the feelings and thoughts of real five-year-old girls, and I could feel myself being pulled repeatedly into that mindset. Sometimes the text seems to move inexplicably from one train of thought to another, and I thought that was particularly effective. It reminded me of many conversations I have had on Pre-K class visits that quickly veer off-topic.

I like the way Dani marks time using the various weeks her class celebrates in school: fruit week, vegetable week, milk week, butter week, cheese week, bread week, etc. I also love that the narration occasionally mentions an activity Dani participated in, like drawing cows, that must have stood out for her as especially important during those weeks of learning. I like the details of her friendship with Ella, such as the fact that they swap bookmarks and have a nighttime club called Night Club. I even like the way the author describes the various injuries that happen in Dani’s class in very childlike terms - even though there seemed to be an almost unrealistic number of them in a short period of time. Finally, I appreciated the subtle way the illustrations sometimes addressed issues not mentioned directly in the text. On the opening page of chapter 11, for example, the text doesn’t mention anything about Dani’s dad and teacher worrying about her, but both are pictured standing behind her, looking at one another as though deciding how to help. This might be my favorite moment in the entire book. It is comforting - and sweet - that even when Dani might not realize it, the adults in her life are looking out for her and aware that she is having such a tough time.

Though that is my favorite page, the line drawings that illustrate the entire book are wonderful, and full of personality. There is a picture on almost every page, sometimes with just one line of text beneath a single image, as in a picture book. The illustrations show Dani and Ella having fun, and the clothing and behavior of many of their classmates. The way Eva Eriksson draws is reminiscent of two of my favorite artists - Marla Frazee and Sophie Blackall, both of whom draw children in ways that make them come to life on the page. Because of all the illustrations, this book is a great choice for a first chapter book to try with kids who have had a lot of experience with easy readers. The age of the main character also makes it a natural choice for those preschoolers who like to listen to longer books with more complex storylines.

My Happy Life reminds me a lot of Where I Live by Eileen Spinelli, which deals with almost identical subject matter. Even the style of illustration is similar. I think it is also a great read-alike for the Princess Posey series, which is another set of heavily illustrated chapter books for the newest readers. Readers for whom My Happy Life is a just-right book might also enjoy Scholastic’s new Branches line for beginning readers.

I borrowed My Happy Life from my local public library. 

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat. 

Review: Hit the Road by Caroline Cooney

Hit the Road. by Caroline B. Cooney. 2006. Delacorte. 192 pages. ISBN: 9780385729444

Hit the Road is a 2006 YA novel by Caroline Cooney, which is unusual in the sense that only one main character is a teenager. Brit, who has just gotten her driver’s license, is left to stay at her grandmother’s house while her parents go on vacation. Shortly after her parents set off on their trip, Brit learns that her grandmother has plans for a road trip. She has rented a car and plans to drive it through three states in order to pick up her dearest friends and bring them to her 65th college reunion. One look at her grandmother tells Brit that she is really in no shape to make this trip, and at first, she tries to convince the old woman to stay home. Before she knows what hit her, however, Brit has agreed to drive her grandmother on her trip, and to assist in the kidnapping of one of her friends from a nursing home! What ensues is a madcap adventure that turns ugly when the son of the nursing-home-bound friend reveals his plans to punish Brit for her involvement in kidnapping his mother.

I originally chose to read this book because it seemed like a fluffy alternative to most of Caroline Cooney’s other books, which are typically darker “issue” novels. I didn’t think even Cooney could find a way to turn a grandmother/granddaughter road trip into a thriller. I should not have underestimated her. While most of this book is very charming and funny, there are definitely moments of fear and frustration as the villain tries to thwart Brit’s plans to deliver her grandmother safely to her reunion. Hit the Road is nowhere near as dark or scary as some of Cooney’s other stories (namely Fog), but it isn’t as much of a deviation for Cooney as it first appears either.

What impressed me most about this book, overall, is how Cooney is able to keep the story exciting and interesting, even when Brit is basically on her own with four batty old women, doing nothing more than driving and occasionally texting her best friend and the boy she likes. It doesn’t sound very exciting to read about such mundane happenings, but Cooney makes it engaging by incorporating flashbacks to Brit’s interactions with her crush during the school year, and forcing Brit to respond again and again to the unexpected behavior of her elderly passengers. I suspect the introduction of the villain later in the story might also be an attempt to keep reluctant readers engaged, though I don’t necessarily believe that was necessary, as the writing is good enough to carry the story even without all the additional drama. In fact, I think this is one of Cooney’s better written books. It doesn’t quite match the level of The Face on the Milk Carton, but it is definitely worlds better than Janie Face to Face or Fog.

Keep this book in mind for a summer road trip read, and recommend it to readers who have close relationships with their grandparents. This book is most likely to appeal to younger teens, ages 13 to 15, especially those who have read Cooney before and enjoyed her work. Read-alikes may include Rules of the Road by Joan Bauer, A Long Way from Chicago by Richard Peck, and My Life in Pink and Green by Lisa Greenwald.

I borrowed the ebook version of Hit the Road from my local public library. 

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat.

Review: The Quirks: Welcome to Normal by Erin Soderberg (ARC)

The Quirks: Welcome to Normal. by Erin Soderberg. June 4, 2013. Bloomsbury. 240 pages.  ISBN: 9781599907895

The Quirks are a family who just don’t fit in, no matter where they live. Gramps has the ability to rewind time. His wife is a Fairy Grandmother. Mom can control the beliefs and actions of others, and her youngest son, Finn, is invisible. Daughter Penelope’s imagination regularly comes to life, whether she wants it to or not, and though her twin sister, Molly, appears normal, she is always an outsider in any new town to which the family moves because of her family’s strangeness. Every one of the Quirks wants their newest hometown of Normal to work out, but if that means having to control their strange magical quirks, they’re sure it’s just a matter of time before they’ll be on the road again.

I so rarely review books that don’t easily fall into the realistic fiction category, but this first book in the new Quirks series just seemed like too much fun to pass up. Indeed, the story is like a clever hybrid of The Incredibles and Bewitched. I like that it’s not just a story about a child dealing with magic, as in Lawn Mower Magic, Half Magic, and Bigger Than a Breadbox, but that the whole family is in the same boat, and that they must work together all the time to keep their magic hidden. This makes the book a true family story, which makes it enjoyable not just for kids, but also for the adults who share books with them.

As far as characterization, I think the author, Erin Soderberg, does a wonderful job of helping the reader fall in love with each and every character. Everyone’s’ quirks perfectly suit their personalities, and each character seems like a real person, despite their unlikely magical capabilities. Though Finn is invisible to everyone but Molly, I could easily picture his grubby little face as he runs around, half-naked and unseen, wreaking havoc everywhere. I also really sympathized with Molly’s continual struggle between helping Penelope deal with the consequences of her wild imagination and making friends of her own. Even the girls’ teacher, who does not have a quirk, comes across as a multi-dimensional character whose layers will probably continue to be revealed in future installments in the series.

Though this first book doesn’t resolve the Quirks’ every problem, it still demonstrates the fundamental importance of being oneself, and of being comfortable in one’s own skin. I think most kids - and most people, really - have a desire to be accepted for who they are, and this book explores that issue in a fun, light way. I suspect that future books will slowly reveal the truth about the Quirks to their friends and neighbors, and I can’t wait to see what impact that has on all the characters, quirky or not.

The Quirks: Welcome to Normal is a perfect transitional chapter book for kids who are beyond Rainbow Magic and A to z Mysteries, but aren’t quite ready for Percy Jackson, Harry Potter, or Judy Blume. Kids as young as four or five could enjoy it, but I think the ideal audience is grades three and four. The first book is available now; the second in the series will be out next year.

I received a digital ARC of The Quirks: Welcome to Normal from Bloomsbury via NetGalley.

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat.

Old School Sunday: Return to Gone-Away by Elizabeth Enright (1961)

Return to Gone-Away. by Elizabeth Enright. 1961. Harcourt. 224 pages. ISBN: 9780152022631

Return to Gone-Away is Elizabeth Enright’s sequel to her 1958 Newbery Honor Book, Gone-Away Lake. The second book follows the adventures of Portia and her family as they work to restore an abandoned house at Gone-Away Lake so they can spend the summers there. As they uncover the treasures and skeletons hidden in the closets of their new home, Portia and Foster spend time with their cousin Julian and their elderly friends, Uncle Pindar and Aunt Minnehaha, who indulge the children’s interest in history, as well as their imaginations.

Though this sequel is nearly as well-written as the first book, I didn’t see much of anything new in this story that made me understand why a sequel was necessary. Though I could see readers being interested in the mysteries of an abandoned house, Portia and the other characters already had the experience of exploring Gone-Away in the first book, and this story just seemed like more of the same. I kept waiting for whatever the new twist was going to be, but it never quite happened.

I also had trouble buying into the idea that kids are overly interested in learning about what older people were like as children. I think readers like the kind of stories Uncle Pindar tells about his boyhood, but the structure of this book distances the readers from those adventures by telling about them in the voice of an adult. I think this would be a much better children’s book if it stuck more to the children’s point of view. It might have been interesting to either have Pin and Minnie tell their own stories in their own book where they appear as children, or to have the book alternate back and forth between the present and the past. Everything that happens in the story is interesting, but sometimes the interesting stuff is obscured by the way it is delivered. I also think Pindar and Minnehaha are kind of creepy. I think we’re supposed to see their love for the past as charming, but to me, it just looked sad. I continued to think of Miss Havisham, who is the fictional picture of emotionally instability, and certainly not someone I’d let kids hang out with unsupervised!

All in all, unless Gone-Away Lake is your favorite book of all time, there’s no real reason to also read the sequel. Nostalgic adults might find it charming, but I was pretty bored, and I think most kids I know would choose to put this book aside in favor of something with a bit more action, or at least a bit more of a kid-friendly approach to storytelling.

I borrowed Return to Gone-Away from my local public library. 

For more about this book, visit Goodreads and Worldcat.