Children's Book Reviews: Week of 4/28/2008

Greenberg's (A City Is) portrayal of the annual Mermaid Parade in Coney Island jumps to life with spreads of quirky costumed entrants rendered in saltwater-taffy hues. A young narrator and her family prepare for and then march in this Brooklyn tradition, which opens the ocean beach each summer. Flat, naïve-styled gouache illustrations invite readers on a Where's Waldo–like search to find the girl (dressed as a mermaid in her seashell wagon) and her parents; one inventive scene offers an aerial view of the parade route. The narrative at times is protracted, possibly more so to those unfamiliar with the event (“The ocean air smells extra salty./ The streets are electric with excitement”). Despite the slightly contrived ending, in which the narrator wins first prize for “Best Little Mermaid,” celebratory scenes packed with myriad geometric motifs succeed in capturing the festival spirit. A note provides a short history of the event. Ages 3–5. (May)

”Mail Harry to the moon!” is just one of the suggestions made by the narrator, who's suffering the displacement blues since the arrival of his annoying, attention-hogging baby brother. “Before Harry, nobody but me sat on Grandma's lap,” he mourns. “Yesterday, Harry did. So I said, 'Put Harry back inside Mommy.' ” But when the boy believes that Mommy and Daddy really have taken him up on the moon idea, his attitude changes dramatically. Harris and Emberley (Happy Birth Day!) are old hands at striking the right balance between comic Sturm und Drang and genuine poignancy, and their considerable talents make this otherwise familiar tale feel fresh and funny—and psychologically true. Emberley's cartooning brims with terrific shtick—he gives the hero some slow burns and outbursts worthy of Ralph Kramden. Kids will particularly appreciate Emberley's gift for staging: the final sequence, in which the narrator sets off for the moon (a laundry basket serves as rocket, a colander as space helmet), blows out any vestige of sentimentality with its full-throttle energy. Ages 3–6. (June)

All the animals happily greet Little Blue Truck as it amiably trundles over hill and dale: “Toad said, 'Croak!'/ and winked an eye/ when Little Blue Truck/ went rolling by.” No wonder, then, that the obnoxious Dump Truck gets a cold shoulder when it goes too fast (“I haven't got time to pass the day/ with every duck along the way!”) and gets stuck in the rural muck. But when the selfless Little Blue Truck gets mired while trying to help, all the animals rally 'round and teach Dump Truck about neighborliness (the particularly buff Toad implicitly offers a subsidiary lesson on the value of working out). Schertle's (All You Need for a Beach) rhyming stanzas are succinct, and she gives readers plenty of opportunities to chime in with animal and vehicle noises; colored, standout fonts highlight these sounds for extra effect. McElmurry's (Mad About Plaid) gouaches recall the heyday of Golden Books in their combination of vividness, naïveté and sweetness, and her rich palette achieves verisimilitude that is no less satisfying for being nostalgic. Ages 3–7. (May)

Acrawl with evildoers, Gaiman's (The Wolves in the Walls) rhyming abecedary charts the perils of two children and their limpid-eyed pet gazelle. With the words “A is for Always, that's where we embark;/ B is for Boat, pushing off in the dark,” the stern-faced Victorian boy and girl clamber into a bathtub-shaped boat and sail into the bowels of a Dickensian sewer system. An oily brown map suggests a treasure hunt, and the seekers must evade subhuman monsters. Darting past stone-walled quays and rusty pipes (“F is for Fear”), they see unluckier children held in cages and soup pots by freakish octopi and bristling goblins (“H is for 'Help me!' ”). When the girl is kidnapped by a fleshy ogre, the boy and gazelle brave a Sweeney Todd meat-pie operation (“O is for Ovens, far under the street”) and ghoulish Pirates to save her. Grimly (the Wicked Nursery Rhymes volumes) pictures the trio's gruesome ordeal in butcher-shop hues of meaty pink and fatty beige. With Lemony Snicket as a reference point, young goths might eat this up. All the same, Gaiman and Grimly frequently sacrifice humor to fetishize the grotesque; adults might like this best. Ages 5–up. (May)

Temporin's (Treasury of Angel Stories) soft watercolors mirror the personality of the 14th-century saint Francis of Assisi. Sparse scenes of medieval Tuscany, created with gentle black outlines and a muted palette, refuse to clamor for attention. However, the subtle illustrations can seem incongruous when the subject is Francis's more rowdy and adventure-seeking youth. Well-known vignettes (the sermon to the birds, his taming of the wolf of Gubbio, etc.) are detailed in short, chronological chapters and narrated in descriptive, often flowery prose (“He sat pressed into his new saddle, his long coat of chain mail hanging like a dead weight from his shoulders”; “merry stars sparkled in the sky as the friars sang hymns of praise to the creator of all things”). Denham (Stories of the Saints) successfully portrays the tension between Francis and his wealthy merchant father, though the absence of dates, sources and author notes makes it hard for a newcomer to separate fact from legend. Ages 5–up. (Apr.)

With this cleverly plotted first novel about thievery and murder, Heneghan quickly draws readers into the grimy, hardscrabble world of urban 19th-century England, when the “air was thick with the pungent stink of sweat and country cheese.” The sympathetic protagonist, Jago, an orphaned street magician, is a penniless beggar and a reluctant thief, shrugging off his wrongdoing as means to an end. Able to think quickly on his feet and melt into any crowd, Jago uncovers a sinister plot by some greedy fortune hunters, then vows to stop them. He saves the day (and himself) during a dramatic climax aboard a storm-battered ship. Heneghan drops in one plot twist after another, and readers must determine what is real and what is illusion. The strongly delineated conflicts, the dramatic cast and the playful suspense should win Heneghan an audience. Ages 8–12. (Apr.)

A 12-year-old boy with cerebral palsy overcomes tremendous odds in White's (Surviving Antarctica) often affecting but overstuffed novel set in 1968. Sam Davis's father has abandoned him and his mother, and she in turn has delegated most of his care, emotional as well as physical, to a nurse, prim Miss Perkins. An émigré raised in London during the blitz, Miss Perkins has nurtured Sam on the books of Winston Churchill, with the result that the boy has a vivid imaginary friendship with “Winnie.” When the boy enters a public school for the first time, with Miss Perkins at his side, the other students and even the teacher wonder if he is much more than a vegetable—until he uses a letter tray to spell out what proves to be a prize-winning essay on Churchill, and until his close observations of the playground yield good tips for the school basketball team. All this would be drama enough, but White also adds the mother's sudden marriage and institutionalization of Sam (winning the essay contest helps free him). It's too bad that White doesn't stick to her imaginative portrayal of Sam; readers might be put off by the excesses and distanced by the historical setting. Ages 9–12. (Apr.)

Barker's gift for historical detail illuminates this absorbing first novel, accurately portraying the pleasures and the harsh realities of 19th-century Massachusetts farm life. From describing exactly how to milk a treacherous cow to the precise way a servant ties and knots her shawl over a dress that is “the color of an overdone Indian pudding,” the author adds authenticity to her well-constructed story. Nine-year-old Ethan Root has been “bound” to shopkeeper and farmer George Lyman as an indentured servant. Lyman appears to be generous, and Ethan will have an opportunity to learn a trade. Ethan and his fellow servant Daniel form a bond that grows as they endure beatings and humiliations at Lyman's hands. Barker uses the burgeoning friendship as background for the quickening pace of the text, as the boys discover evidence of Lyman's double-dealings. Readers will like this book for its attention to heady issues like early prejudice against the Irish (Daniel is Irish) and the treatment of indentured servants as young as themselves, and for its satisfying and hopeful conclusion. Ages 10–up. (Apr.)

Written by the son of a Choose Your Own Adventure series founder, this first volume of an all-new interactive CYOA series is just as kooky as 30-somethings remember. But whether these versions live up to their original counterparts—and whether contemporary readers, who are used to advanced role-playing games, will find the format compelling—is hard to say. While the thrill of deciding between various potentially lethal courses of action that “you” will follow remains (some especially suspenseful plot threads carry over into the next volume), the sophistication and cohesiveness of the narrative itself might be missing. A half-baked conspiracy theory story set in a dystopian future that is partially conveyed via canned dialogue (“They followed me and my colleagues here to this simple town and destroyed it in an orgy of hate”) and involves three plucky teens, a set of kidnapped parents, a mysterious explosion at a top-secret archeological dig with possible government involvement, a passageway to “Inner Earth” and fierce battles between Agarthans and Lemurians might have looked cutting edge when this format debuted in 1979, but now it seems old hat. Ages 10–up. (Apr.)

Set in 1940 Dover, this first novel plays for high stakes. It begins with the drowning of the 14-year-old protagonist's younger cousin, a tragedy that exacerbates the boy's first conflict: Alec longs to be a seaman while his father wants him to help run the family inn. Hull effectively builds Alec's self-reliance as he juggles his home duties with work as a galley boy aboard the local skiff Britannia. As the war thickens, he befriends soldiers billeted at the inn and unravels a mystery surrounding their mission. The cast, rather tidily, includes an acerbic first mate and a German Jewish orphan girl, both too broadly rendered. The plotting builds to Dunkirk (Alec stows away in order to participate in the evacuation), where Alec's offshore heroics also seem overly neat. However, readers unfamiliar with the story of Dunkirk will be impressed, and Hull's research is solid. Ages 10–14. (Apr.)

Cabot (the Princess Diaries series) dishes up all the story ingredients her fans have come to know and love—romance, humor, believable teen dialogue and even a fantastical twist. This last bit requires a major suspension of disbelief, but willing readers will love it. Emerson Watts, 16, likes living in New York City's SoHo neighborhood, but she can't tolerate most of the students at her private high school. She and her best friend (and secret crush), Christopher, escape their outcast status by immersing themselves in online video games. But Emerson's bland world shatters when she attends the opening of a new Stark Megastore and suffers a terrible accident. She wakes up in the hospital one month later in someone else's body—and not just anyone else's, but that of superhot teen model Nikki Howard. Cabot's portrayal of Emerson is brilliant. She's a too-cool-for-school independent chick, but she doesn't grow annoying, because the author makes it clear her sarcasm stems from not fitting in. Once she's Nikki Howard, however, she has to rethink her positions on the social order. Pure fun, this first series installment will leave readers clamoring for the next. Ages 12–up. (June)

Returning to the faery world of Wicked Lovely, Marr serves up another highly addictive read, this time centering on Leslie, a mortal girl who made a cameo appearance in that earlier work as a friend of its protagonist, Aislinn. Broken by terrible trauma, Leslie seeks to anchor her mind from slipping into oblivion. She finds salvation—or so it seems—in a strange tattoo that gives her power and strength like she's never felt before. But Leslie's euphoria is short-lived, and the tattoo comes with a shocking price. Its ink has been laced with the blood of Irial, king of the fey's Dark Court. Upon the tattoo's completion, Leslie will be bound to Irial as if a slave, with Court rules forbidding even Aislinn, the new Summer Queen, and Summer King Keenan's guard, the handsome Niall, to sever this dark attachment. Once again readers will find a love triangle that simmers, this time among Leslie, Irial and Niall—all of whom face choices that could cost them everything they prize. Compulsive enough to give the Twilight series a run for its money, and dizzyingly more sinister. Ages 12–up. (May)

Meehl's (Out of Patience) contribution to the growing subgenre of YA vampire novels is very, very funny—similar to M.T. Anderson's Thirsty, but less twisted and heavier on the humor. Morning McCobb, a recent graduate of the IV (International Vampire) League, is the vampire as superhero, geek and lonely boy all rolled into one. His first postgraduation assignment is to tell the world that yes, vampires do exist. Becoming the first out—and therefore most famous—vampire isn't easy (cue the media frenzy). Being around this unlikely heartbreaker is difficult, too, as Portia Dredful finds out when her PR agent mom's highest-profile client moves in with them. The author is especially clever with names (Penny Dredful, Merder Sink), his prose engaging, smart and fast-paced. Witty one-liners pile up while Meehl exploits every known vampire cliché to great comic effect (Morning not only refuses human blood, he's vegan, subsisting on a protein blood substitute called Blood Lite made from soy). A refreshing take on the brooding vampire romance, with a misfit vampire protagonist readers are certain to love. Ages 12–up. (May)

Venkatraman makes a memorable debut with this lushly evoked novel set in India during WWII. Fifteen-year-old Vidya is shocked and proud to learn that her appa (father), a compassionate doctor, has joined the “freedom fighters,” who follow Gandhi's example of nonviolent protest against British rule. But tragedy strikes: during a rally Vidya's father is beaten nearly to death and left with severe brain injury. Because he can no longer practice medicine, the family is forced to move in with relatives, who treat them as servants. The only bright moments of Vidya's days, otherwise spent under the thumb of her tyrannical aunt, come before dinner, when she is allowed to slip upstairs to the library and bury herself in books. More than a feisty Cinderella story (and yes, Vidya does find a prince), this novel vivifies a unique era and culture as it movingly expresses how love and hope can blossom even under the most dismal of circumstances. Ages 12–up. (May)

Bauer's (Hope Was Here) fans will appreciate this diverting novel's shout-out to the author's debut, Squashed, from which she also harvests a few themes. In an upstate New York hamlet known for its apples, aspiring teen journalist Hildy Biddle treasures her staff position on the high school paper, aptly named The Core. She does whatever it takes to find the facts for a story, hoping she is honoring the memory of her late father, a respected local reporter. But when the opportunistic publisher of the town paper whips the citizens into a frenzy with sensational stories of ghosts and eerie happenings, Hildy and her friends are determined to expose the truth—which involves a disreputable development company. With sharp pacing and an intriguing premise, Bauer renders a fully realized portrait of a small town dependent on an ever-fragile agricultural economy and threatened by modern encroachment. As always, she stocks her work with strong, sage women, the elements for a budding romance and plenty of funny moments. But it's Hildy readers will remember longest, a smart girl who realistically blends the spunkiness, brains and good humor that is Bauer's stock-in-trade. Ages 12–up. (May)

At 18, Veronica, aka Vee, is the star of her small Arizona town's community theater, but when the next production offers no female roles—and when her widower father decides to marry his longtime fiancée, making Vee feel “no longer needed”—she moves to Los Angeles, to act. The decision is cinched not only because a high school friend claims acting success there, but because Vee discovers her mysterious mother had followed the same path. Once in L.A., 217-pound Vee faces size-based rejections (“We need people who are TV fat, not really fat,” a casting director tells her), has to take a job at a coffee shop with other Hollywood hopefuls—and slowly discovers her friend is sabotaging her. Readers will like Vee despite her incredible naïveté, but Purtill (Love, Meg) mires the story in its subplots. The story line about her mother, whose Hollywood journey Vee follows through old letters written to her father, surfaces abruptly, making Vee's longing for connection seem inauthentic. And even Vee's biggest fans will find the quick, happy ending too scripted. Ages 12–up. (Apr.)

In this impressive debut novel, the “problem” (transvestitism) is so nimbly woven into the narrative that it will barely surprise readers. After a successful stay at a rehab facility, 17-year-old Johnny, a recovering alcoholic, is sent by his mother to live with her late husband's brother, Sam. There he begins a relationship with fellow prep-school student Maria; they bond over music and over their outcast status (classmates falsely assume Johnny is gay and taunt him). Johnny harbors a throwback fascination with Debbie Harry (“I imagined her as a cross between Jean Seberg from Breathless and the St. Pauli Girl. I wanted that voice to sing to me forever”), and Maria nurtures it, even when it folds into a desire to look like Harry—tough and beautiful. It's Maria who encourages him to perform, dressed as Harry, in a drag contest. Meanwhile Johnny's relationship with his uncle provides some of the most touching scenes: through Sam, Johnny comes to know his late father not as a withdrawn, road-weary businessman but as someone more surprising (and more like him). Although the novel can feel plot-heavy, the brisk pace and the strong-willed, empathetic narrator will keep readers fully engaged. Ages 14–up. (May)

Large, loud Margarita truly hates student body president Bridget Benson, a stuck-up television star whom Madge was friends with when both were child actresses; so when Bridget challenges her to a contest to win prom queen, Madge tells her to “get ready to lose by a landslide.” There's plenty of drinking and swearing, but some memorable moments, too, as the competition heats up: Bridget and Margarita face off in a strange event at a party thrown by a character called Redneck Randy— they water-ski behind a truck, trying to jump gracefully into a lake at the ramp's end. Medina sets the story at the same high school as his first novel, The Straight Road to Kylie, and Margarita even visits that book's protagonist at college, a trip which ends with her passed out drunk on a football field, next to a box of Krispy Kremes (“The first thing I tasted when I came to was glaze on my lips”). The last-minute revelations about Bridget, and the inevitable reconciliation, might be hard to swallow, but readers will get a kick out of Margarita and appreciate her growing honesty with herself. Ages 14–up. (May)

Happy families are not all alike, as previously met characters continue to prove.

This sequel to Birdsall's National Book Award winner, The Penderwicks, has even more charm than the original. The prologue hits the only maudlin note, flashing back to Mrs. Penderwick on her deathbed as she instructs her husband's sister, Claire, to make sure he finds love again after sufficient mourning. The Penderwick sisters—Rosalind, Jane, Skye and Batty—learn of this valediction four years later when Aunt Claire begins arranging blind dates. An emergency MOPS (Meeting of Penderwick Sisters) hatches the Save Daddy plan, in which the girls orchestrate dates so dreadful their father will see widowed life is best. Neighbors on Gardam Street include football-playing brothers Nick and Tommy (the latter plays Tracy to Rosalind's Hepburn), and two newcomers: a widowed professor and her toddler baby. Middle sisters Jane and Skye, who share a room but nothing else, steal the show by swapping homework assignments with hilariously catastrophic results. It's sheer pleasure to spend time with these exquisitely drawn characters, girls so real that readers will feel the wind through their hair as they power down the soccer field. Ages 8–12. (Apr.)

The fifth—and, sadly, final—volume about the Casson family, Brits like the author, is the best of them all, a jewel of a domestic comedy. Rose, the youngest, is now 11 and occupies an as yet uncharted zone between daft and brilliant. Writing in a diary (she cheerfully ignores the printed dates and supplies her own), she copes with her separated but still doting parents, her talented siblings and the assorted people they collect (where is Caddy, the oldest sister, when she periodically phones Rose? And what is to be done with David, her brother's lummox of a friend who has been kicked out by his mother and has no place to put his drum set?). Then there's Rose's friend Molly, with her nutty plan to hide out overnight at the zoo in the arctic foxes' shelter, a scheme Rose will go along with only because she's certain it will fail. McKay is an expert at twinning the point of view: she lets readers see Rose's logic, but her timing calls forth every bit of the situational humor. The ending ties all the ends together—some may say too neatly, but fans will find the wrapup utterly satisfying. Ages 10–14. (Apr.)

National Poetry Month sees the publication of an astonishing collection of work by children and teens from around the world.

In 1995 Michael and Hass, then the U.S. poet laureate, cofounded the River of Words project, designed to connect students' art and poetry education to the natural world immediately around them, to link their imaginations with a sense of place, or to “watersheds.” The poems and pictures in this handsomely designed volume have been culled from yearly contests, with 85% of the entries coming from the United States (the cover image happens to be by an 11-year-old from Malaysia named Lim Yi Fan); most were submitted by teachers, but others came directly from youths in refugee camps or detention facilities. The works are startling, many of them dislocating and highly complex. The opening poem, however, is the beguilingly direct “My Name Is Elijah,” by five-year-old Elijah Soza of California: “Waterfalls told me hello today./ The river also talked./ She wanted me to know/ that my name/ was important./ My name is Elijah./ I am a friend of the river.” All ages. (Apr.)