Library Mama

Selkie Girl by Laurie Brooks Elin Jean lives on the Orkney Islands. She doesn’t know why she has webbing in between her fingers, only that the bullying that disfigurement causes has kept her from having any social life outside her croft. Though she adores her mother and grandfather, the only person in the village she thinks she might be able to be friends with is Tam, a gypsy boy even lower in society than she is. She does not know why her father gets so upset at the amount of time she spends in or near the ocean, or why she is the only person in the villager so upset by the annual baby seal cull. When she is sixteen, she finally learns that her mother is a selkie, kept with her father and aging prematurely because of her own seal skin, hidden by Elin Jean’s father. Now Elin Jean has a choice of living with selkies or humans herself, ultimately finding herself on a quest to find the deep answer to her own question. The story isn’t clearly set in any time, though the place is vivid and the characters, especially Elin Jean, ring true. The lyrical language speaks of the enduring power of music, dance and story. This is a beautiful and timeless take on the ancient stories of the selkies, as well as a solid coming-of-age tale.

An American Plague by Jim Murphy This is, as the subtitle says, the true and terrifying story of the yellow fever epidemic of 1793. Over the course of a few short months, the population of Philadelphia, then the capital of the United States, was laid waste by a disease with no cure. Everyone who could afford to fled the city, leaving masses of sick and poor and only a few officials with no authority to do anything. The book describes the panic, the reactions of authorities, the arguing among doctors as to cause or cure, the heroic efforts of black nurses sent by the Free African Society, and the eventual waning of the disease. The United States government was unable to do anything during this time, as no one dared to enter the city, but the Constitution forbade convening Congress anywhere else. We hear about the lasting changes to emergency systems and the medical disaster that could still happen today: while we now know the cause of yellow fever, there is still no cure. Every chapter begins with a reproduction of a document from the time, so you can read, for example, the letter that mayor wrote to the newspaper, different ideas for cures, and the names and occupations of the dead. The text is lively, and frequent quotes from diaries, letters and newspapers bring us close to this long-ago event. This is an exciting book that would go well with Laurie Halse Anderson’s Fever, 1793.

The Good Neighbors. Volume 1: Kin by Holly Black. Illustrated by Ted Naifeh Rue Silver is sixteen years old. She has a boyfriend and a group of friends who like to break into abandoned buildings and take photographs. Her mother has been quietly missing for three weeks and her father is suddenly involved in a murder case. And she’s starting to see things that she can’t tell anyone about, because they’ll think she’s crazy. They are the faeries of the old tales, the ones called Kindly and Good in hopes of preventing unwanted attentions. Rue learns that her vanished mother was a faery herself. A battle is beginning, and Rue must decide whose side she is on, and how much she can tell her friends. This is the first volume of what’s obviously planned as a much longer series. It’s a very solid start. The story strikes just the right balance between realistic and spooky, and the shaded paintings bring this out perfectly. I got a strong Buffy vibe off of it, not in a copy-cat kind of way, but in the circle of high school friends with a snarky sense of humor and a smart, tough girl going it with some help, but mostly alone. Black is the author of The Spiderwick Chronicles, which I read only the first one or two of. This does feel like it’s coming from the same imagination, but more from real older legend, and definitely more sophisticated and for an older audience. I’m really looking forward to the next one.

Nation by Terry Pratchett Once upon a time, perhaps a two hundred years ago or so, in a world very but not quite like ours, a young boy left his boy soul on the Island of Boys and prepared to go back to the Nation in the canoe he had made. Back at home, there would be a feast. He would be given the tattoo that said he was a man and he would have the soul of a man. At the same time, a ship with an exceptionally devout captain and a mutinous first mate sailed to the remote Mothering Sunday islands to take a girl to her father. And then there was a wave, which left Mau and Ermintrude the only survivors on what the boy called Sunrise Island. Mau is thrust into new doubt – how could Imo have let this happen to his people? But even though he now believes that people invented the gods, he hears the voice of Locaha, the god of death, talking to him, and the Grandfathers telling him to put back the god anchors and start bringing them their offering of beer again. Ermintrude, meeting Mau, decides to introduce herself as Daphne. She starts hearing voices too - and both Mau and Daphne find reason to stay alive helping the other. But they are not alone for long, as Sunrise Island was the biggest of a tiny chain, and the straggling survivors from all the islands start coming, looking for refuge. Mau might be possessed by a demon, since he left his boy soul behind and never got his man soul. Daphne is just a trouserman girl, too pale to look normal. Still, the demon boy and the ghost girl, struggling to learn each others languages, are the ones rebuilding the new, tiny Nation. My one frustration with the book, really, was that it was clear that they were speaking different languages to start with and gradually learning to understand each other – but there was no difference in language or typeface to tell you which language was being used at any given point. In the hands of anyone but Terry Pratchett, this story could have been depressing, preachy, or worse. But the compelling action and the thinky questions never really answered keep it from being preachy, while Pratchett’s signature humor keeps it from being depressing. This is a great book about the meeting of cultures and the meaning of religion. While it’s written with teen protagonists, there’s a lot here for adults as well.

Mister Monday by Garth Nix. Read by Allan Corduner. This is the first in the latest of Garth Nix’s dark and detailed fantasy series. Our hero is Arthur Penhaligon*, aged 11 or 12, a middle school student in our own world. He survived the flu epidemic that killed his parents when he was first born, but was left severely asthmatic. He was adopted by his parents’ lab partner, a flu researcher, and her former rock star husband. This lengthy back story introduced here feels ponderous; in the book, the action takes off right away. It’s Arthur’s first day at a new school. He collapses with an asthma attack, and has what he thinks is a vision. A scraggly butler persuades a man in a wheelchair, Mister Monday, that giving Arthur the Key will fulfill the terms of the Will. Arthur will die any minute, he says, and when he does, Mister Monday will be able to take the Key back. And so Arthur is given a Key that looks rather like the minute hand of a clock. But when he wakes in the hospital, he still has the key and the book that later dropped on his head. Soon, there are strange dog-like men chasing him everywhere, asking for the key. A plague comes, affecting people connected with him and his school. A huge house that no one else can see is suddenly taking up several blocks near his house. The First Section of the Will leads Arthur to the House, having decided that Arthur is just the person to take possession of the Lower House back from the unfaithful trustee, Mister Monday. The Will is at the moment in the form of a jade frog, hiding in the throat of young Suzy Blue, who was once, centuries ago, a mortal child led to the House by the Piper. But there’s not much time for chatting. Monday’s Noon and a whole troupe of Fetches are after them.

Didja get all that? The setting of this book seems as intricately detailed as the gears of the clock whose hand the First Key resembles. There’s a whole lot of seven – the seven days of the week, as well as the seven sins (though this aspect has been less obvious in the following two books.) It’s a textbook Deist world, as the House and the Secondary Worlds, of which Earth is but one, were created by the Architect, who left millennia ago. She left the Will and appointed trustees to carry it out the purpose of the House: to observe and record only the events in the Secondary Realms. In her absence, the trustees divided the Will and imprisoned all the separate pieces so they could ignore it. In outward appearance, the House is run like a failing 19th century bureaucracy, with everyone wearing the clothes of that era. It’s a fascinating world, hitting amazingly well the fine line between giving enough details to make it feel like a real world without bogging the reader down. The brave but confused Arthur, the irrepressible Suzy Blue and the Will, determined but short on plan details, are characters to root for. And the plot won’t let you get off. Corduner (who also narrated The Book Thief) does an amazing job with unique and believable voices for each character. These books are keeping me sane through a broken toe, and I’m finding myself longing for more time to just listen.


*I was very curious about this name, sounding rather closely related to Arthur Pendragon. Apparently it’s an old Cornish name, Pen meaning top or hill and haligon meaning willow. If you can believe a sloppy search on Unca Google. http://www.surnamedb.com/surname.aspx?name=Penhaligon

I've been a fan of Donna Jo Napoli's since her enchanting retelling of Rapunzel, Zel, which I read in my children's lit class. Here's her latest:

Hush by Donna Jo Napoli Melkorka has been raised princess of a small kingdom in Ireland. While the priest tries to convince her father to outlaw slavery, she has always looked down on slaves and believed slavery necessary and permanent. Then she and her little sister, Bridget, are kidnapped. They are taken on board a Russian slave ship and soon far beyond anything Melkorka has ever seen. Her mother had told her often that she needed to learn to hush; and, when they were riding off secretly to hopeful safety, not to tell anyone who she is. So Mel hushes, using silence as both sword and shield. This isn’t exactly a beach read, nor, with its stark depiction of slavery and rape, is it for young children. For teens and up, though, it’s a moving story. Mel’s difficult personal journey is balanced with the excitement of exploring the known world of A.D. 900. An author’s note at the end explains that this is her back story for a princess Melkorka who is mentioned briefly in an ancient saga of Iceland.

Ever by Gail Carson Levine
In a twist on the Biblical story of Jephthah’s daughter, fifteen-year-old Kezi has doomed herself to be sacrificed by being the first to congratulate her father on her mother’s recovery from a serious illness. Desperate and afraid, she begs to have thirty days before her sacrifice. Kezi’s land is monotheistic, but a young god, Olus, from a neighboring, polytheistic land has fallen in love with her. After searching in vain for Admat, Kezi’s god, he decides to find a way to save her. The setting feels like the ancient Middle East, and the story is told in chapters alternating between Kezi and Olus’s perspectives. The tension of the impending sacrifice is balanced with the sweetness of young love, with a nice reflection on the nature of religion. This is good for fans of strong girls and fantasy, while the human-immortal romance might even tempt some Twilight readers and give them a little more to mull over.

I’d Tell You I Love You, but Then I’d Have to Kill You by Ally Carter. Narrated by Renee Raudman Hooray for fluffy teen chick lit mixed with adventure! Fifteen-year-old Cammie Morgan goes to the Gallagher Academy in Virginia. It poses as a boarding school for bored rich girls, but really, it’s a top-secret spy school. She’s the daughter of the principal, has good friends, speaks all twelve required languages fluently, and is starting her first year of Covert Operations. On her first assignment, she meets a boy. A boy who actually notices Cammie, nicknamed the Chameleon for her ability to go unnoticed. Smitten, Cammie begins her first practical cov ops experiment in order to date him, secret identity and all. Romance! Adventure! Close calls! It’s a fun book (with one sequel and another on the way), and seems as if it would make a very fun setting for a role-playing adventure, for those interested in such things. The audio book narrator had a kind of breathy teen voice that worked well for scenes on how she didn’t know the language of boy, but seemed a little overdone considering that Cammie was a whole lot more self-aware than most teens her age. I got over this as I listened to the book, and highly recommend this for people interested in a zippy teen romance/adventure.

Sea of Trolls by Nancy Farmer Jack is a poor Saxon farm boy when the Bard chooses him to be his apprentice. He's learning to pay close attention to everything and feel the Life Force. Then the Bard senses ships coming. A lone monk stumbles into the village from the Holy Isle, raving that berserkers destroyed the whole island, burning the books and killing the monks and nuns. This is the pebble in the pond. The villagers all hide, except for Jack's little sister, Lucy. She is convinced that she is really a princess, and that the raiders are knights come to take her to the king and queen. Jack follows – and both of them are captives on the Northmen's raiding ship. They are being taken back to the kingdom of Ivar the Boneless, whose half-troll wife, Frith, has been trying to kill the Bard. Lucy is intended as a gift for Frith, and Frith intends to sacrifice her to the goddess Freya. The only way for Jack to save her is to journey to Jotunheim, the Kingdom of Trolls. The great Olaf One-Brow and the ornery young shield maiden Thorgill, as well as a crow who found their ship in the middle of the ocean, come to help Jack on his quest.

Once again, Nancy Farmer delivers with a tale of adventure stirring enough to keep indifferent readers hooked which nonetheless has deep levels of meaning. Jack learns to respect his captors, even as he is horrified at their violence, the pride they take in going berserk and their hope to die in battle. He was raised a Christian, yet trained as a Bard to do magic, and meets the deities of other religions over the course of his quest. Over and over again, Jack sees the beauty in all life – even life he's been taught to fear – and still knows that they must remain enemies. The book is also set firmly in period just following the historical destruction of the Island of Lindisfarne, and the fantasy elements are all drawn directly from the myths of the period. As a stranger, Jack is good at noticing the Northmen's ways, making it a good introduction to the period for anyone. It may not be straight history as we'd see it now, but it's certainly a tale that people from the time would have felt as true, which is even better.

I’m just writing down my list of things to review. There are six, which is a lot. I’m sure not all of them will make it up at once. Hadn’t realized I was so far behind, but I guess that’s what happens when I both listen in the car and read fast books.

The City of Ember by Jeanne Duprau. Read by Wendy Dillon “The City of Ember is the only point of light in a dark world” say the ancient texts, and this is literally true, since the only light in Ember’s sky comes from huge floodlights, and no one has been able to navigate the darkness of the Unknown Regions to see if there are other cities. On Assignment Day, all 12-year-olds in the City of Ember are randomly assigned jobs. On this day in the year 241, Lina Mayfleet and Doon Harrow trade jobs. She will become a Messenger, carrying messages between the citizens of Ember, and he, a Pipeworker, repairing the ancient plumbing that takes water from the underground river and sends it to the people of Ember. Once there was plenty of everything – food, supplies, and light. Now supplies are running short, the greenhouses are beginning to fail and blackouts are becoming longer and more frequent. As Doon tries to repair the crumbling underside of the city, Lina finds cryptic, half-destroyed Instructions for Egress. Together they work to find the hidden way out before the generator stops for good. Wendy Dillon, as the narrator, made all the characters sound somewhat uncertain and cartoon-like, but did an excellent job of distinguishing all the characters and building suspense through the story.

I always feel that some spiritual reflection is in order during Lent, and with Anne Lamott, I know for sure I’m not going to find the “God and the Republicans will keep America a Christian nation and save it from the gays if we pray hard enough” kind of thinking or even the “God wants your life to be perfect – all you have to do is pray just right” kind of thinking, both of which I find really abhorrent.

Operating Instructions by Anne Lamott This is a journal of Lamott’s son’s first year, not really religious book. Lamott decides to keep an unplanned pregnancy, even though the father wants nothing to do with a baby, and even though she has been clean for only three years and couldn’t take care of a cat in her previous life. Despite differences in parenting and life styles, baby Sam’s story was instantly recognizable. If you’re a parent, you’ll remember being there yourself, and if you’re not, you’ll have a much better idea by the time you’re done (though I’d advise you not to expect a baby to sleep through the night at three months). Lamott’s wrestling with her faith and the difficulties of being a single parent and the sorrow as Lamott’s best friend and partner in parenting is diagnosed with terminal cancer are all described with merciless and irreverent humor. This is one to be careful about reading in public, as you are likely to need tissues and help to keep from falling out of your seat with laughter.

Another entry in my occasional series Kids Music That Won’t Require an Insulin Shot.

Mother Goose Rocks from Boffomedia This is just what it sounds like, classic Mother Goose rhymes set to rock music. This CD (first in a series of four or so) features “Rub-a-Dub-Dub” done to a tune that sounds suspiciously like the Spice Girls’ “Wanna” and “Pat-a-Cake” ala Alanis Morissette. It might be a little too close to the originals for the liner notes not to credit them, but that means more fun for you figuring out which artist they’re mimicking. I was rolling with laughter at the spoofs, and Mr. Froggie Pants was just rocking along with the music.

I sent a patron to get something at another library with just half an hour to go before that library's closing time, before they actually knew the item was on the shelf for them. Now the Mission Impossible theme is stuck in my head.