Patricia Hruby Powell

“Liar and Spy” by Rebecca Stead (Wendy Lamb 2012) has my vote as the next Newbery winner, the highest honor given to a middle grade book. We’ll know what the committee decides nest week, January 28. I haven’t read EVERYTHING this year, so I might have missed something, but this is a great novel, as are all of Rebecca Stead’s three novels.

Georges is a seventh grader, a city kid, named after the post-impressionistic artist Georges Seurat who painted A Sunday Afternoon on the Island of La Grande Jatte in millions of colored dots. That ‘s’ at the end of Georges is enough for class bullies to call him Gorgeous, bump him in the cafeteria, and tease him mercilessly. His mother has often told him that these small incidents are each like one small dot in the Seurat painting. They don’t much matter. The big picture is made up of millions of tiny dots of color. Stand back so you can see the complete picture. In a few years everything will change.

His dad says, the individual dot—what’s happening now—is important. The reader knows that both viewpoints are true—the one dot (or point) and the larger picture they create are both important. Pointillism.

Georges’ upstairs neighbor, Safer, who is homeschooled, introduces Georges to his Spy Club. Georges wonders at the boredom of having to endlessly observe (spy on) the image projected from the foyer webcam, watching for Mr. X to enter the building. Safer says, “Boredom is what happens to people who have no control over their minds.” Safer,

besides having an odd name, seems wise and mysterious.

Moral issues are addressed in a real way. When Georges visits the candy store, he says, “I debate the morality of eating a Starburst before the pack is paid for and decide not to.” That’s small but the issues become much larger. What about the moral ground of ‘breaking and entering’ a stranger’s apartment?

Candy, Safer’s little sister, another wonderfully odd character, named after her dearest love, also homeschooled, always answers their apartment door wearing pink pig slippers, but everything else changes radically—overalls, flowery dress—sometimes changing every fifteen minutes.

Apart from some hilarious scenes, the feel of the story is slightly dark, but it’s the dark inside a New York City apartment building. And in the end, with a twist that knocked me off the chair, in its way, brings a flashflood of light.

 

Read more about the Seurat painting and pointillism at http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/A_Sunday_Afternoon_on_the_Island_of_La_Grande_Jatte

Or it’s possible “Wonder” by R.J. Palacio could win. That will be my next review, due out February 10, 2013.

Patricia Hruby Powell is a nationally touring speaker, dancer, storyteller, occasional librarian, and children’s book author.

In 1962, a silverback gorilla was born in the African nation now known as the Democratic Republic of Congo. While still

a toddler, he was captured, named Ivan, and caged in the U.S. and there he remained for three decades. That true story is the inspiration for “The One and Only Ivan” by Katherine Applegate (Harper 2012).

In Applegate’s story, Ivan lives at the tacky Big Top Mall and Video Arcade, along with Stella the elephant, parrots, monkeys and other animals that belong in a jungle, as well as a scrappy stray dog named Bob. They comprise a circus that is meant to draw customers to the mall.

Ivan, with wry humor which befits his resignation to caged life tells us: “Mack works here at the mall. He is the boss. I work here too. I am the gorilla.”

The animals live in filth, are not terribly happy, but they appreciate each other’s company. Each animal has his own wisdom. Bob the dog, in talking about humans who capture animals, says with disgust, “Humans. Rats have bigger hearts. Roaches have kinder souls. Flies have…” before falling asleep atop Ivan’s belly.

Mack buys a baby elephant to try to boost faltering business. Stella is delighted to have elephant company. She asks Ivan to promise to help the new elephant. Due to Mack’s neglect, the circus befalls a terrible tragedy.

Ivan has always drawn pictures, which Mack sells in the circus store. But when Ivan observes Julia, the daughter of the caretaker, using paints, he’s intrigued. Julia had given him his first crayon ages ago, and whereas they can’t talk to each other, she’s an intuitive girl. Julia brings Ivan paints, brushes and paper and he musters a plan. Ivan paints to express his feelings. He has the same frustrations as any artist. There are good days and bad.

Could his painting draw the attention of enough people who would understand the plight of caged animals? That’s what he hopes. And that’s what the reader hopes.

This is a gentle look at animal abuse, a topic which hits the hearts of many children and adults alike. The story is life-affirming—both animal and human. With lots of white space and charming illustrations by Patricia Castelao, this 300 page book is a fast and satisfying read.

[Read more about the real Ivan here: http://www.npr.org/blogs/13.7/2012/08/21/159542065/famous-gorilla-ivan-dies-at-age-50-an-animal-obituary ]

Patricia is a nationally touring speaker, children’s book author, storyteller, dancer. See her books on line at www.talesforallages.com    She has new books coming out with Chronicle Books.

In Pat Schmatz’s “Bluefish” (Candlewick 2011), Travis, 13, has to move into town and live with Grandpa. Travis’ heart is broken over his lost hound, Roscoe. And school is painful.

Grandpa has stopped drinking, but Travis knows it won’t last.

The only bright spark in his life is classmate, Velveeta, who is the liveliest, flirtiest girl, who wears old lady scarves—different colors every day—with her hoody.

Velveeta inherited the scarves from Calvin, the old man who lived in the next trailer, the one who bought her school supplies each year, who helped her build confidence, but now he’s died. Actually, the scarves belonged to Calvin’s wife, but she’s been gone for years.

Travis and Velveeta’s stories alternate. Taciturn Travis is voiced in the third person, which is perfect for his strong silent character. Vivacious Velveeta, in the first person, writes to Calvin. So we get to see what Travis is feeling and Velveeta shows her feelings. Perfect.

Travis and Velveeta like each other—really like each other—but relationship is complicated between two eighth graders, especially when each has a big secret. Can they trust each other? Help each other? You want it for them. They are both so likeable. And believable.

If Velveeta goes home to her own trailer, she must suffer her selfish alcoholic mother, so she moves into Calvin’s empty trailer. Until she gets kicked out by Calvin’s grown daughter.

Travis cuts class and sets out on foot to the country to find his dog. When the trip goes wrong, Travis acts like a kicked dog. Back at school he snaps at Velveeta.

Velveeta, clever girl, figures out Travis’ big secret just as you, the reader, will. She tries to help him, but she’s just a kid and maybe a little awkward in helping. Travis snaps again.

Now Velveeta is no longer Travis’ friend and his dog Roscoe hasn’t been found. School gets worse. He longs for some bully to start a fight with him so he could “blow loose all over them” and it wouldn’t be his fault. But the bully won’t start and Travis won’t start it.

Thank heavens for McQueen the reading teacher. With his help and Velveeta’s smarts, maybe Travis will break out of his self-made prison of anger and loneliness.

I loved these characters and the writing. I bet Schmatz follows through on Velveeta’s story in her next book.

 

 

 

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is a nationally touring speaker, dancer, storyteller, occasional librarian, and children’s book author. She has new books coming out with Chronicle Books.

“The Dogs of Winter” by Bobbie Pyron (Arthur A. Levine 2012) is based on a true story from 1990’s Russia. After the fall of the Soviet Union and its infrastructure was in shambles, gone were government-controlled health care, pension plans, and rent control. The poor were so poor they often couldn’t care for their children. The number of orphans and homeless on the streets were in the millions. Children formed packs as did the wandering dogs.

When winter approaches, Ivan’s mother disappears from their home and village. Five year old Ivan finds his way to the City (Moscow) where he seeks refuge near the heat vents in the subway system. So do many homeless children and adults, many of whom sniff glue, are alcoholics, or are desperately violent. It’s a version of Oliver, without the music, where children beg, steal, and worse. So, yes, it’s like Charles Dickens’ London—but in the present.

Ivan is part of a band of orphans who must steal to pay fourteen-year-old Rudy, in turn for his protection. It’s a relief when Ivan is adopted by a pack of feral dogs. It’s a point of pride that rather than steal, he begs for money to buy food for himself and the dogs. The dogs protect him from gangs of children and police who want to kick the unsightly homeless out of the subway tunnels. Ivan sleeps in a “nest of dogs,” names them, and they become a tight knit family.

Smoke leads the pack onto a train which carries them to new shelter when the frigid Russian winter sets in. Ivan smashes and wets sausage and bread to make gruel for the nearly toothless Grandmother dog. When rambunctious Rip and Lucky lunge for the gruel, the boy growls till they back off. He has asserted his authority and becomes the human leader.

Ivan tells the dogs fairytales that his mother had read, which allows him to keep a tenuous hold on his humanity. All the time, his yelping, staring, whimpering with the dogs, deepens his communication with them.

When a rich girl helps him you think, now, he will be cared for, but it’s only a small episode in a two year pilgrimage on the fringes of society.

When help finally comes, can he give up his life with the dogs and accept it? What a terrific page-turner! The whole family could read this together.

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is a nationally touring speaker, dancer, storyteller, occasional librarian, and children’s book author. Visit her at www.talesforallages.com/

“Outside Your Window: A First Book of Nature” by Nicola Davies and illustrated by Mark Hearld (Candlewick 2012) is a stunning work.

The 110 page picture book progresses through the seasons, starting with spring. The poems are simple and straightforward for the most part. Which makes the author’s occasional metaphors and similes light up her poems.

The spectacular art, which we’re told is mixed media, draws you into the author’s observations of each poem. By the look, I’d say the artwork is a collage of watercolor, gouache, and ink on paper.

In “Bulbs” Davies writes, “something tells the bulb it’s time to grow./Inside its brown coat and layers like an onion,/ a tiny pulse beats…” The author has watched nature and passes her acute observations to us through a child-like eye, making us experience nature afresh.

In “Nesting” artist Hearld uses actual strands of straw in the bird’s beak and in the nest she’s building. It makes you feel like you’re helping to construct the nest.

In “Flowers,” Davies writes, “Without a sound the flowers call out./ They shout to insects with their colors—” What we normally see, the author has made us hear. Let’s listen to our gardens.

In “Tide Pooling,” Hearld uses mono-printed fish or crayfish in the larger spread. That is, he’s made a woodcut or linoleum cut or maybe a potato cut of one fish, and printed it in various colors across his larger composition. The artwork makes you want to try some of his child-friendly techniques.

In “Starlings,” she says of the flying starlings, “hundreds, thousands maybe…They look like smoke, or a curtain rippling in the breeze…as if their flying is a dance that they all know by heart.” Nice image, but the clincher is the heartfelt dance.

Perhaps my favorite of the poems is “Snow Song” in which Davies speaks of falling snow. “Listen, and you can hear the quiet,/ as if every sound had been wrapped up and put away.” And “snow kept a diary” of animal and bird footprints.

Read this book and look outside your window. Go outside and see nature. Observe her acutely. This is a great book for studying and writing poetry in the classroom. The free verse poems invite you to make your own observations.

 

Patricia Hruby Powell is a nationally touring speaker, dancer, storyteller, occasional librarian, and children’s book author.

“A Dog’s Way Home” by Bobbie Pyron (Katherine Tegen 2010) alternates the stories of spunky 6th grader, Abby, and Shetland Sheepdog, Tam, an agility champion.

Both the fact that this is a middle grade novel and by its name, you can be pretty much assured that things are going to turn out okay—that the lost Tam will find his way home. Otherwise I couldn’t bear to read it. Gone is the era of “Old Yeller” and Bambi’s mother being shot by a hunter. I appreciate the fact that nowadays we protect our young from…well…devastating outcomes.

That said, plenty goes wrong for both girl and dog. In fact, I can barely believe that the dog, always in pursuit of food, could survive attacks from the claws of a raccoon, then a bear, the quills of a porcupine, not to mention his traveling hundreds of miles through snowy mountains, but he does. I’m passionately rooting for him, turning those 324 pages fast as I’m able.

There’s plenty of sorrow—more than I anticipated—but it makes the story stronger. Throughout the day I read the book, one or both our dogs slept at my side. When the eagle swoops down on Tam, gouging him with her talons, to steal his rabbit dinner, my little hound twitched in her sleep. I might have been reading her the story. When the man hurls a bottle at Tam, my Lil groaned in her dream.

Abby’s belief in her dog, her instinct that he’s coming home to her moves us almost as strongly as Tam’s adventure. Her family must move from the North Carolina hills to follow her struggling country-singing father when he gets a contract to record in Nashville.

The final chapters alternate faster and faster, getting shorter and shorter—Abby, Tam, Abby, Tam, hurrying you along. You don’t care that it’s late at night and you should turn out the light. You read to the end and for days after you remember both Tam’s plight and Abby’s dedication to her dog. At the end I didn’t cry politely, but blubbered out of control. In gratitude and relief.

Tam is never anthropomorphized, but remains a dog through and through. Having just read “Inside of a Dog: What Dogs See, Smell and Know” by Alexandra Horowitz (Scribner 2009), I’m privy to the latest, abundant research on dogs. Author, Pyron, clearly is, too.

Patricia Hruby Powell (www.talesforallages.com) is a children’s book author, nationally touring speaker, dancer, storyteller, and librarian.