Children’s Book Reviews: 8/10/2009

Lester’s (John Henry) yarn straddles the line between folktale and modern ghost story. It’s set in the present—the hero, Malcolm David, has a computer in his bedroom—but Valério’s (All Aboard for Dreamland!) naïve artwork makes joyful use of indigenous art while Lester’s sentences resonate with the rhythms of oral storytelling. Malcolm David, who has soulful brown eyes and a potato-shaped nose, discovers bewigged and top-hatted ghosts Jessica, Byron and Lamont after hearing them howl in the cemetery “where the tombstones gleamed dully like broken dreams.” They’re not scary—they’re just hungry, and it’s up to Malcolm David to feed them (the ghosts of people eat the ghosts of food, readers discover). The story combines realism (his mother tells him to clean his room) with fantasy (he has a time-keeping ringring bird). Lester’s prose makes even falling down a fresh experience (“With one foot wanting to go forward and the other wanting to go backward, and him just wanting to go, he tripped and fell”), and Valério’s turquoise and cobalt blue spreads deepen the atmosphere of cheery haunting. Ages 3–5. (Aug.)

Scieszka and Shannon take a detour from their Trucktown series to pay homage to another object of childhood fascination. Robot Zot, a malevolent red contraption, crash lands “into the heart of the dangerous Earth Army” (a backyard) and makes his way into a fully equipped kitchen. There, it’s revealed that Zot is about the size of an iPod. After fending off “attacks” from a toaster and a television, Zot faces his toughest challenge yet: rescuing the amazing “Queen of all Earth” (an attractive toy cellphone). He and his sidekick (a cross between a snail and a conquistador’s helmet—one of a few references to the Quixotic nature of Zot’s mission) save the queen and escape while a bewildered homeowner surveys the aftermath and blames his dog. Scieszka laces his action-filled narrative with rhymes and repetitive robot phrases (“Robot Zot—never fall./ Robot Zot—conquers all!”). Shannon’s acrylic artwork offers bright colors and plenty of humor (a slightly anthropomorphized blender’s white buttons fall out like teeth under Zot’s attack). This comically self-deluded protagonist proves that fierce warriors of any size can still be brought to their knees by love. Ages 3–7. (Sept.)

With a conversational narrative and copious photographs, Buckley, cofounder and executive director of Tennessee’s Elephant Sanctuary, spotlights the true-life friendship between an unlikely pair of animals. Following in the footsteps of hippo and tortoise duo Owen and Mzee, Tarra, a retired circus elephant who needed “elephant friends and lots of room to roam,” and Bella, one of the sanctuary’s stray dogs, forge an immediate and strong bond. In one poignant scenario, Tarra stands guard by the ditch where an injured Bella is lying until sanctuary workers locate her, and remains in that spot for two days, waiting for her return. The elephant later stays by the barn where she correctly senses her friend is until a caregiver carries the ailing dog outside. Shots of Tarra petting Bella with her trunk are among the book’s most endearing pictures, which range from snapshotlike to skillfully framed images; also notable are photographs that underscore the dramatic difference in the animals’ sizes. An endnote gives additional information about the sanctuary and its mission. Though the lime-green background on some pages is distracting, the animals’ friendship will inspire young readers. Ages 3–up. (Sept.)

A healthy dose of pioneer sass helps young Stagecoach Sal nab a notorious thief without firing a shot—she takes Poetic Pete (“the most polite bandit in all of California”) onto the seat beside her, sings him to sleep and delivers him to jail. Hopkinson’s (Home on the Range) winner of a tale is inspired by a historical figure (whose biography is supplied in an afterword), but the story of Sal’s all-night singing marathon is Hopkinson’s own. Ellis’s (The Composer Is Dead) artwork forms an unexpected but effective counterpoint to Hopkinson’s rambunctious prose. Delicate watercolors make the spreads light and limpid, and precise brown ink lines keep the doll-like figures of Sal, her parents and the pioneer landscape under firm control, the kind of restraint seen in embroidered samplers. It’s a counterweight to Sal’s bombast: “Why, I’m a gal who can plug a nickel from as far as I can see it, and shoot out a rattler’s rattles if I care to.” Loving parents give Sal lots of freedom, and she runs—make that rides—with it; she’s a charismatic role model of American pluck. Ages 4–7. (Sept.)

This tribute to the author’s second-grade teacher will resonate with those who struggle with reading. “I didn’t like school. I didn’t like sitting still. I didn’t like reading. And I didn’t like Miss Little.” Wood’s (Nothing to Do) story takes place during one of his numerous after-school sessions with Miss Little, who worked tirelessly “to help me learn how much fun reading could be.” Just as an unfocused student strays from a task, diversions from the classroom setting flesh out some of Wood’s life outside of school, e.g., his playground troubles or trips to a Minnesota lake. Burke (Naming Liberty) keeps his realistic oil paintings fresh with various perspectives, giving readers a bird’s-eye view of the classroom’s checkerboard floor or Wood’s view of the book he’s laboring to read, The Little Island by Margaret Wise Brown. A poignant final scene describes the author sending a copy of his first book, Old Turtle, to an elderly Miss Little, shown smiling and clutching it to her chest. Endnotes discuss how the author copes with his diagnosis of ADHD. Ages 4–7. (Aug.)

In this cautionary tale about a mouse named Jam Boy who learns to follow the rules, Moser’s dark illustrations set a menacing tone while Doyen’s verse will be a challenge for the book’s target audience. Newcomer Doyen’s puns and invented words are sometimes clever, as when the mice are out at night “scoutaprowl” and Jam Boy escapes from a snake by quickly “scritchscrambl[ing] in a log!” However, the complex text often sounds as if the imaginary words were conceived to rhyme rather than to make a Jabberwocky-like, off-kilter kind of sense (“They runtunnel through the riddle—/ Secret ruts hid inbetwiddle—/ But one mousling jams the middle!/ Whilst he goofiddles, others howl”). After Jam Boy’s escape, the text awkwardly announces, “Mouse years go by...” and the reader next sees Jam Boy as a bearded “eldermouse” warning that “The world afield is dangerouse.... Be Forewarned!” Moser’s (Hogwood Steps Out) paintings, on the other hand, are a marvel of nighttime beauty, the rice paddies lit by a yellow moon and filled with expressive mice and animals who witness the story’s events. Ages 4–7. (Aug.)

A macabre blue phantom ends up a comic foil for an animated, rotund Chinese boy in this tongue-in-cheek ghost story. Reminiscent of the clever rodent in Arnold Lobel’s Mouse Soup, the lively hero (who resembles a young Buddha with hair) outwits his ghost captor and delays his demise by providing an involved recipe for boy dumplings, which sends the ghost traipsing through town to collect rotten onions and wormy cabbage, among other ingredients and supplies. (The boy’s recipe explains, “1. Fill bucket with warm water. Wash boy thoroughly, especially behind ears and between toes. 2. Reserve bath water. Dry boy, massage boy’s feet, and let boy nap.”) Children will delight in the ghost’s gullibility, though younger readers may not fully understand the ruse. Yamasaki’s illustrations of the dim-witted ghost—a cross between Fu Manchu and Nosferatu—can be frightening, but it’s clear the impish boy almost always has the upper hand. Compestine’s (The Real Story of Stone Soup) haunting tale is an entertaining, not-too-scary offering, and an endnote explains some Chinese traditions and beliefs regarding ghosts. Ages 4–8. (Aug.)

Diego Domínguez from A Gift from Papá Diego (1998) returns in this bilingual sequel that sees the boy’s family gaining a new member—a puppy from the Humane Society named Sofie. Diego and his older sister, Gabriela, both want a dog of their own, but agree to share (“But it will be more mine, Diego thought. But it will be more mine, Gabriela thought. Diego smiled at his sister. She smiled back at him”). Though the siblings initially find Sofie difficult to train, they learn that the puppy (like the rest of the family) is a big fan of Mrs. Domínguez’s homemade tortillas, which they use to help her learn tricks. The length of Sáenz’s text almost makes the book read like a short story—one that ably portrays mischievous sibling dynamics, a love of animals and the ways families come together during difficult times (Sofie falls ill at one point). Set against colorful solid backdrops, Garcia’s clay artwork has an appropriately homey quality that keeps the focus on the siblings and their beloved pet. Ages 5–10. (Aug.)

Enchanting gouache and pastel paintings adorn this thorough biography of Little Women author Alcott. Painted in a somewhat naïve style with elongated, flowing lines, single portraits of Alcott dominate several of Andersen’s (Patience Wright) spreads. Natural elements like feathers and flowers pattern her dresses and decorate the background, evoking her love of nature. While the fluid compositions evoke a carefree tone, textured gold backdrops, dark hues and serious facial expressions underscore the sadness and disappointments of Alcott’s short life, including a sister’s early death and her family’s poverty. McDonough’s (The Doll with the Yellow Star) plainspoken narrative, confined to filmy, rectangular canvases on each page, provides numerous anecdotes to keep the story paced and interesting. Readers learn of her father’s alternative, ahead-of-his-time views on education and diet, as well as Louisa’s efforts to help her impoverished family with finances (“Once she tried to earn money as a doll’s dressmaker. She chased the neighbor’s hens for their feathers and made fancy dolls’ hats to sell”). Endnotes provide a time line, some of the author’s quotations and early poetry, and even a favorite recipe for “apple slump.” Ages 6–10. (Aug.)

In this tender if occasionally overdramatic novel, two-time Newbery Honor author Giff (Lily’s Crossing; Pictures of Hollis Woods) relates the analogous stories of a 12-year-old girl and a filly. Lidie moves from Brazil to New York to join her brother and horse trainer father, who had left their homeland years earlier. She knows little English, misses the horse she loved to ride and is angry that her well-meaning father and brother still treat her like a little girl (“They didn’t know me, not at all”). Lidie immediately bonds with Wild Girl, her father’s new horse, which she observes “had been born in the warmth of the South... and brought here to this cold world, just as I had.” There’s little subtlety in the parallels Giff draws between the two: Lidie’s late mother had called her “my wild girl” and, sensing the filly is lonesome, she thinks, “I knew how that was.” Yet readers will find Lidie a strong protagonist, her difficulty in adjusting to her new life credible and her eventual feeling of belonging—she finally feels at home when riding Wild Girl for the first time—gratifying. Ages 8–12. (Aug.)

Raised in a liberal household by their artist mother and attorney father, 11-year-old Callie and her six siblings have always been encouraged to be free thinkers, and in middle school, Callie feels stifled by rules. The new set of social norms she believes she must follow to fit in—“Don’t ride your bike to middle school”; “When you take a test, take your time. The worst thing in the world is to be finished ahead of everybody else”—are as repugnant to her as the restrictions set forth by her teacher and uninspiring principal. Not wanting to stick out from her classmates or seem strange, Callie reluctantly tries to blend in until plans to replace Halloween with Autumn Fest (promoting “good, wholesome, God-centered American values”) force her to stand up for what she believes. Independent-minded readers will relate to the disgruntled heroine as she hatches a plan to bring fun and creativity back to Halloween. Zucker (Benno’s Bear) paints morals and characterizations in broad, familiar strokes, but the antics of Callie and her large, boisterous family keep the material fresh. Ages 8–12. (Aug.)

In the midst of the Great Depression, headstrong 12-year-old Mary Bayliss Pettigrew lives a somewhat lonely life in Lenore, Ala. Her touchstone is her fun-loving brother Leo, until he drowns in Sweet Springs Lake. Tormented by the question of why she survived (“What sense did it make to love a cat—or a person—when God could just snatch them away from you at any moment?”), Bayliss searches for her “special purpose” in order to bring Leo’s spirit back. Sensitive and hardworking, she slowly develops the strength to incorporate the pain of the past with the joy of the present. She’s set her mind on becoming a nun when her parents decide to take in two orphans. At first Bayliss resents these “weary travelers,” but despite the family’s temporary poverty, she learns to love again. Forrester’s (the Beatrice Bailey series) tale is replete with period charm and solid dialogue, and carries a clear message of selflessness: “When you put somebody else’s needs ahead of your own, you just might end up getting something you need in return.” Ages 8–12. (Aug.)

Fans of Martin’s A Dog’s Life who are eager to know what happened to Bone, the brother of stray puppy Squirrel, will find the answer in this beautifully crafted companion novel. The story is told from the alternating perspectives of Bone and two boys who enter his life. Henry is an 11-year-old whose deepest desire is to have a dog. Charlie is lucky enough to already have a dog, but that doesn’t ease his grief over the recent loss of his older brother, RJ (“He can’t help but think, as he fondles Sunny’s silky ears, that RJ was the one who named Sunny; that Sunny had, in fact, been RJ’s dog”). Meanwhile, Bone, still a stray and not yet aware of the boys’ existence, bounces from one family to another, experiencing a mixture of joyful moments as well as events that lead to betrayal and abandonment. Each point of view is compelling on its own, but the smooth convergence of the characters’ heartwrenching histories shows exceptional engineering and artistry. Animal lovers of all ages will cherish this moving tale of man’s—or in this case, boy’s—best friend. Ages 9–12. (Sept.)

Newcomer Nation makes his debut with this whimsical addition to the “magical orphan” genre, starring the eponymous Bran Hambric, found at age six inside a locked bank vault in the magic-hating city of Dunce. Raised by the banker who found him, Bran leads a normal life until he’s almost 14, at which point a series of events turn his existence upside down. At times quirky, at other times absurd, this story’s similarities to Harry Potter (the discovery of magical abilities, the dark overlord opponent who seeks to transcend death, the “normal” but neglectful adoptive family that raises the hero) leave it hovering between entertaining and derivative. The idea of a city that outlaws magic, in a world filled with gnomes and mages, is a concept that’s filled with potential. However, it suffers from a cutesy tone (though there are some dark moments) and supporting characters whose roles as comic relief border on parody. While it may appeal to those at the younger end of its target audience, more mature readers are less likely to be drawn into the story. Ages 9–12. (Sept.)

Trigiani (Big Stone Gap) takes the familiar boarding school milieu and gives it some welcome nuance and a refreshingly grounded feel in her debut YA work, first in a proposed series. To her horror, 14-year-old aspiring filmmaker Viola Chesterton is forced to leave her family, her funky Brooklyn neighborhood and her “Best Friend Forever And Always” Andrew to spend her freshman year at Prefect Academy for Young Women in South Bend, Ind. But Viola soon finds much to like in her new roommates and rural campus, chronicling her experiences in a video diary. While the story of Viola’s blossoming may seem slow to readers used to students who are training to be spies or developing crushes on vampires, Trigiani offers a realistic look at the ever-shifting bonds of friendship and the adjustment to one’s first taste of life away from home. Viola’s reflections on the sisterhood of girlfriends and the importance of girls standing up for themselves are resonant but never cheerleaderish. Trigiani uses Viola’s droll humor and a colorful supporting cast to great effect, ensuring that readers will want to know what happens to them in future volumes. Ages 12–up. (Sept.)

Based on the Iliad, Norris’s story trades the animosity between the city-states of Troy and Sparta for a longstanding gridiron rivalry between the Troy High Trojans and Lacede High Spartans. Narrator and Troy student Cassie is best friends with Greg, sophomore class president at Lacede. When school district lines are redrawn, a number of Lacede students, including the beautiful Elena, have to attend Troy. There Elena falls for Cassie’s brother Perry and dumps Greg’s brother, Lucas, who is devastated and swears revenge on Troy. The football teams and cheerleaders engage in a series of pranks (there’s even an exploding horse at the homecoming dance), and Elena befriends outsider Cassie for reasons that are not fully clear, since Elena is a cheerleader and thus immediately popular. Cassie’s crush on Greg and her budding friendship with Elena all progress predictably, leaving little in the way of surprises. Norris’s (Something to Blog About) prose is breezy, and playful references to the Iliad (footballer Ackley has sustained an ankle injury) entertain. But they’re not enough to elevate the story beyond its promising premise. Ages 12–up. (Aug.)

Absorbing from first page to last, this sensitively written novel explores how a teenager’s crisis rocks her life as well as the lives of others. Ellie wants a boyfriend, but what she gets instead is a series of meaningless hookups, the fourth of which leaves her pregnant. Unable to go to her parents for comfort and guidance, she turns to her best friend, Corinne, and Liz, the compassionate mother of Ellie’s childhood friend, Caleb. While rumors about her condition spread, Ellie has no idea how profoundly her pregnancy and her decision about whether to have the baby affects the baby’s father, Josh, whom she has avoided ever since he abandoned her after their only sexual encounter. Meanwhile, Corinne and Caleb are drawn together by their shared concern for Ellie. Offering four equally sympathetic viewpoints, Knowles (Lessons from a Dead Girl) eloquently expresses the pain of lost innocence (“Their words made me feel beautiful. Irresistible. Even powerful for that one brief moment before it was over. But I was none of those things. I was nothing”) and the longing to feel loved. Ages 14–up. (Aug.)

“How could I possibly have known the storm that my simple act of gratification would set off?” After Stuart’s younger brother catches the gay teenager in a moment of self-pleasure in the shower, it’s not long before Stuart’s family, church and small Canadian community are up in arms—complete with torches and pitchforks—over Stuart’s sin. While this will initially seem like a stretch, especially given the (relative) acceptance of Stuart’s sexuality by his devout friends and family, readers are quickly clued in. With the help of Fon Pyre, a demon he summons, Stuart discovers that the hate-mongering is the result of a fallen angel who parted ways with God due to differing views on masturbation. It’s up to Stuart and a small band of fellow accused “spillers” (as in seed) to drive away the powerful angel. Carter (Epoch) often uses his characters to parodical effect, though with the exceptions of Stuart and Fon Pyre, they can feel underdeveloped. It’s a book that doesn’t take itself too seriously, but will leave readers with plenty to consider, as it addresses themes of morality, sexuality and faith. Ages 14–up. (Aug.)

Some notable if less familiar subjects take starring roles in a broad selection of picture book biographies being released this fall.

In the late 19th century, these nature-loving brothers spent their youth navigating the British countryside (“They especially marveled at the architecture of living things”). When they were older, the boys devised a method to photograph wild birds in their nests by disguising themselves as a rock or a tree trunk—even hiding within a hollow manufactured “ox.” Bond’s graceful watercolors depict the brothers as they piece together their disguises and gain recognition for their innovative approach to photography. The brothers’ dedication and ingenuity are especially resonant, and their elaborate costumes will amuse but also inspire. Ages 5–8. (Nov.)

The team behind Through Georgia’s Eyes pays homage to another singular artist. Often framed by art nouveau embellishments, striking visuals in warm browns and greens show off Gaudí’s work—his organic architectural designs, fantastical ornamental pieces and shapely mosaic structures. Rodríguez’s gently poetic text follows Gaudí’s growth from a boy who suffered from rheumatoid arthritis as he observed his Catalonian world (“All around him is light, form, and/ the Great Book of Nature./ He will read from it all his life”), through his evolution as an increasingly bold artist. An enchanting introduction. Ages 5–8. (Sept.)

This entertaining book explores the life of inventor Philo Farnsworth, who discovered how to transmit images electronically, leading to the first television. Farnsworth’s early days are spent studying science magazines and dreaming about the applications of electricity. Later, Farnsworth persuades investors to fund his efforts, which, with the assistance of his wife, Pem, result in the first, primitive “electronic television” in 1927 (incidentally, Pem became the first person ever to be televised). Krull’s substantial, captivating text is balanced by Couch’s warm, mixed-media illustrations. His muted tones suggest the grainy light of early TV screens and bring home the message about curiosity and perseverance. Ages 5–8. (Sept.)

In this portrait of Harriet Quimby, an independent daredevil who, in 1911, became the first woman in the U.S. to gain a pilot’s license, vibrant watercolors re-create an era when planes “looked more like bicycles with wings.” Flying the English Channel, Quimby’s plane is shown awash in thick fog, until she spots the shore and lands to an excited crowd and much acclaim. Quimby’s final flight, which resulted in her early death, is explained against an open expanse of water as the sun breaks through clouds. But the story ends on an uplifting note, explaining that Quimby paved the way for future female pilots. Ages 5–8. (Sept.)

Richly expressive paint and ink illustrations portray the hard-earned successes of Django Reinhardt, whose childhood was spent traveling with his impoverished gypsy family, where music was a constant and illuminating presence: “Music... sighing/ weeping singing/ laughing breathing/ reeling spinning.” Christensen’s soft, rhythmic prose echoes her evocative images as Django explores the music scene of 1920s Paris, before suffering serious burns on his hands and leg when his wagon catches fire. Despite his injuries, Reinhardt teaches himself to play again, his career “just beginning/ Bright and brilliant stages waiting.” A sensuous tribute to an illustrious musician. Ages 5–9. (Sept.)

Beginning with Korczak’s imaginative childhood in 19th-century Warsaw, Bogacki’s (Daffodil, Crocodile) tender but somber book explores the humanitarian’s commitment to children’s rights. He is shown fighting hunger among the indigent, treating children wounded in the Russo-Japanese war and creating an innovative orphanage with a self-governing body of child residents who, despite being relocated to the ghetto during WWII, Korczak refused to abandon. The recurring image of a crowned boy riding a horse, from Korczak’s children’s book King Matt the First, doesn’t temper the stark reality of Korczak and the orphans’ eventual demise in a concentration camp. Ages 5–up. (Sept.)

In 1871, American artist Thomas Moran journeyed with a team of geologists through the Rocky Mountains to “the land called the Yellowstone,” observing and sketching the landscape around him. Judge’s watercolor illustrations capture the movement and pristine energy of the wilderness along with the team’s arduous journey over rocks, ravines and woods (“Tom learned to ride quickly. But by noon he was so sore from bouncing on the hard saddle, he had to put a pillow under him”). Moran’s “The Grand Canyon of Yellowstone” appears on the final pages of the book—a light-infused synthesis of the magnificent sights seen throughout. Ages 6–8. (Sept.)

This creative biography explores how Albers, perhaps best known for his paintings of squares in different color combinations, “saw art in the simplest things.” Albers is pictured rummaging for scrap materials in a dump, which he turns into “collages that shined like jewels.” As a teacher, Albers told his students, “Watch what’s going on... and capture the accident.” After visiting Mexico—Albers is shown climbing an abstract temple-like structure of colorful rectangles—he reflects on the effects of combining different colors: “Colors came to life like actors on a stage!” An accessible and lively introduction to this artist and to color theory. Ages 6–9. (Sept.)

This sensitive portrait of Anderson—“the most famous American artist you’ve never heard of”—paints him as a solitary man who kept a private room hidden from his wife and children and often took his rowboat to the Mississippi Gulf Coast’s isolated Horn Island to glean inspiration. Subdued watercolors evoke the artist’s love of the natural world, as he paints the coastal setting, eats in the shade of his boat and meanders among wild hogs and raccoons. Following Anderson’s death in 1965, his wife opens the room that he kept locked, discovering “the walls were covered with paintings of a Gulf Coast day.” A powerful tribute to the lengths artists will go for their passions. Ages 6–10. (Sept.)

Illustrator Hale’s authorial debut is a serene account of Noguchi’s early life in Japan as the son of a Japanese poet and an American writer. Quiet earth tones and collages of handmade paper carry through the twin themes of contemplation and the inherent worth of handcraft. In the book’s most arresting passage, eight-year-old Noguchi helps design and build the house he and his mother will live in after his father leaves: “He supervised construction/ watched each detail with care.” The startling idea of allowing a young child to contribute materially to such a significant project is a bright spot in an occasionally grim tale. Ages 6–11. (Sept.)

In this stirring biography of Scott, the only black race car driver to win a NASCAR race, Velasquez’s expressive pastels showcase the driver’s determination and resourcefulness as he “quit school and drove a cab to put his sister through college.” After serving in WWII, Scott started a family and “to make ends meet... ran moonshine,” but never lost his love for cars, soon turning to racing. Even when, in 1963, Scott was denied recognition for his NASCAR win because of his race, his conviction didn’t waver. With as much attention paid to Scott’s life off the track as on, readers won’t need to be racing fans to be drawn in. Ages 7–11. (Oct.)

An intimate first-person narrative carries this story of Gee, who, as a child, dreamed of becoming a pilot, and went on to become one of just two Chinese-Americans in the Women Airforce Service Pilots. Radiant acrylic and colored pencil illustrations convey Maggie’s desire to take to the sky, as well as her cultural heritage. While serving, Gee is once even mistaken for an enemy pilot (“I felt like an exhibit at the county fair... the amazing Chinese American WASP”), and the book ends with her plane soaring above sherbet clouds: “Now I tell these stories to my children and grandchildren, and my tales must seem as far away to them as China.” A triumphant story of determination. Ages 9–12. (Aug.)

This detailed biography of the trailblazing 19th-century journalist incorporates photographs of Bly and her subjects. The extensive text explores the details of a life spent seeking justice, writing about female factory workers and women institutionalized at the Lunatic Asylum on New York’s Blackwell’s Island, as well as her most illustrious stunt, a trip around the world with the promise of completing the journey faster than the hero of Jules Verne’s Around the World in Eighty Days. A thorough introduction to the life of a fascinating figure. Ages 10–up. (Oct.)