Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts
Showing posts with label historical fiction. Show all posts

Tuesday, January 4, 2011

Revolution



I loved Jennifer Donnelly's A Northern Light when I first read it, and it is still one of my favorite YA historical fiction novels. So, I was eagerly awaiting her newest book--Revolution. Rather than write my own summary (I hate writing summaries!), below is taken from Donnelly's website (I think she writes it better anyway):

As you might expect from the title, the book is about a revolution. On one level, it’s about the French Revolution and one of its smallest victims. On another level, it’s about the revolution inside, about the changes we as human beings go through as we struggle to make sense of our world and its tragedies.

Without giving too much away, the story centers on two girls – one who lives in present day Brooklyn and has suffered the loss of her younger brother. And one who lived in 18th Century Paris and witnessed one of the worst crimes of the French Revolution. Their stories converge when Andi, the Brooklyn girl, travels to Paris and finds a diary hidden inside an old guitar case that belonged to Alex – the French girl.

Here's how we described the story on the book jacket:

BROOKLYN: Andi Alpers is on the edge. She’s angry at her father for leaving, angry at her mother for not being able to cope, and heartbroken by the loss of her younger brother, Truman. Rage and grief are destroying her. And she’s about to be expelled from Brooklyn Heights’ most prestigious private school when her father intervenes. Now Andi must accompany him to Paris for winter break.

PARIS: Alexandrine Paradis lived over two centuries ago. She dreamed of making her mark on the Paris stage, but a fateful encounter with a doomed prince of France cast her in a tragic role she didn’t want—and couldn’t escape.

Two girls, two centuries apart. One never knowing the other. But when Andi finds Alexandrine’s diary, she recognizes something in her words and is moved to the point of obsession. There’s comfort and distraction for Andi in the journal’s antique pages—until, on a midnight journey through the catacombs of Paris, Alexandrine’s words transcend paper and time, and the past becomes suddenly, terrifyingly present.

************

There is so much to say about this novel that, frankly, I don't know where to start. In order for me to say as much as I want, I will refer to an old stand-by, Carol Jago's Criteria for choosing whole-class novels.

# 1: Written in language perfectly suited to the author’s purpose
Like Donnelly's other novels, that language is lush, beautiful, haunting, and intoxicating. The "diary" entries pull you in making you a part of 18th century Paris. Then, there's the modern language (inner speech too) of Andi. We feel her pain, although we don't know until close to the end of the book, what "really" happened to send spiraling down.

# Exposes readers to complex human dilemmas
Definitely! Not only do we learn extensively (and I mean extensively--Donnelly did her homework and even provides a comprehensive list of sources) about the Revolution, but Donnelly seamlessly parallels the revolution of two hundred years ago to aspects of Andi's life (hint: once you learn the whole story of Truman's death, you'll get it).
Power, class, (in)justice, and on and on.

# Includes compelling, disconcerting characters
Most definitely. Andi is a puzzle that the reader wants to solve. Yet, she's relatable. Anyone who has gone through a tough trauma or loss will understand what she is going through. Then, there's her father and mother--neither of whom is being the parent he/she could be--yet, we can understand why. We take them with their flaws.
And, then, there's the characters from two hundred years ago (I won't spoil!)

# 4Explores universal themes that combine different periods and cultures
Please! I really can't give away what I want to, but trust me! This criterion fits this book perfectly.

#5: Challenges readers to reexamine their beliefs
I think this criterion is inevitable. As Andi realizes several times in the book--as much as she was taught and thought she knew about the French Revolution, she didn't know the whole story. I think teen readers will learn a tremendous amout from this novel. Here, in Alabama, 9th graders study world history and have world literature--this book would be perfect to add to the curriculum.

#6: Tells a good story with places for laughing and crying
While I didn't cry, I know there would be many who could and would (I am not a cryer). I think teens who are going through tough times like Andi is, and there are more and more that are, will be more affected. While there are not laugh out loud places, Donnelly adeptly balances sorrow and joy.

I loved this book! I stayed up late reading it and put it down only because I had to get some sleep.

There are some other great areas for study in this book besides the obvious. For example, music plays a HUGE role for Andi. Donnelly has provided a playlist. You can also learn about what inspired her to write the novel.

Sunday, November 7, 2010

Kick Ass Females, Past and Future: Katniss and Gemma

I haven’t posted in a while, partly due to my insane teaching schedule and partly because I have been READING! My post today is—literally and figuratively—on the past and the future.

I read The Hunger Games trilogy as the books were published, sadly finishing the series with Mockingjay in August. (As with the two books before it, I finished the book in one day.) Katniss, the female hero in this dystopian future, kicked ass and won me over from the start. In the past two days, I finished up the last two books (yes, all 1400 pages of them!) in the Gemma Doyle trilogy. Gemma is equally heroic, just kicking ass in the past.

As I was reading Libba Bray’s final two books—I can’t believe it took me this long to buy and read them!—I couldn’t help but think of Katniss Everdeen, Collins’s heroine of the future. What I like about them is that while they are great, they are also flawed. While they are likable, they are also contemptible at times. In short: they are real and they are us.

Beyond the two characters as areas of study, both sets of novels provide a range of perspectives for students to analyze, discuss, argue about, and critique—from violence, to societal ideals, to the roles of women, to man’s inhumanity towards the planet and each other. I would love to see both series being taught in school.


Let’s start with The Hunger Games. In the future, in what was once America as we know it, the country is a place of vast extremes. In The Capitol, excess rules and it takes more and more stimulation (food, clothes, color) for the citizens to exist. The ultimate stimulus is the annual “hunger games,” where two people are chosen (if you can call it that) from each of the twelve other districts to fight to the death—the entire gruesome spectacle is televised for “enjoyment.” Katniss, our heroine, steps in for her younger sister and through smarts, skill, luck, and strength manages to outwit the President: she and her fellow district choice, Peeta, win. And, that is just the first book in the trilogy. For those that haven’t read the series, I won’t spoil it.

However, what I want to stress is that even though I cheered for Katniss, she is not the infallible heroine; some may call her a tragic hero, but I am not sure about that. Perhaps she is simply a “real” hero. She is a reluctant hero. She hates the limelight. She doesn’t like the attention. She goads people. She can be fickle. Again, in short: she is each of us.



Then, there’s Gemma Doyle in Libba Bray’s historical/fantasy trilogy (A Great and Terrible Beauty, Rebel Angels, and The Sweet Far Thing). When the series opens Gemma is a typical teenager: pouty, selfish, and immature. These (self-recognized) traits are brought to the forefront when within the first 50 pages, her mother is murdered and Gemma is forced to think about her last words and actions toward her mother—and the strange vision she had where she saw her mother murdered. Shortly thereafter, Gemma is shipped off to England and The Spence School—where she is to be made a “proper” young lady. The remainder of book one and throughout books two and three, the reader is taken on Gemma’s fantastical journey to figure out not only who her mother was, but who she is—and what her role is in The Order, a group of priestesses who have ruled a mystical and powerful world called “the realms.”

Like Katniss, I cheered for Gemma. She is a reluctant hero. She goads people. She can be immature. At times I wanted to take her by the shoulders and shake her. Yet, she does good and makes positive changes. She is, again, like us.


Both series put social issues in the forefront: expectations for women and “proper” women’s roles; capitalism and greed; poverty; prejudice and racism; substance abuse (Bray even tackles lesbianism). All six books could easily be taught in conjunction with often used canonical works or on their own. For example, The Hunger Games trilogy could be taught with 1984 and/or A Brave New World. Bray’s three novels could be used with a number of Austen’s works (although I think Pride and Prejudice is best suited) or alongside Kate Chopin or Edith Wharton (or Emily Bronte).

Both series have enough allusions and cultural references for students to conduct any number of research projects. For example, after reading the Collins series students could investigate organ and limb transplants or stem cell research. With Bray’s novels students could research the prejudice against gypsies or the suffrage movement.

I could go on and on . . . and, literally, I wish I could read on and on.

I guess I will have to wait for the next kick-ass female series.

Tuesday, August 3, 2010

Once...


"Once upon a time" is how children's stories usually start, and you expect princesses and castles and fairy godmothers. Not so in this compelling, somber story about young Felix in Nazi-occupied Poland. The story opens with Felix, a Jewish boy, day-dreaming about escaping the orphanage where his parents, former bookstore-owners, have placed him to keep him safe while the Nazis go about their exterminating. Felix, being young and full of ideas and an overactive imagination, expects his parents to show up any minute. But they don't, so he must go look for them and tell them about the Nazis. Only when he escapes and sees the atrocities caused at the hands of German soldiers does reality slowly begin to sink in.

Felix--probably because he's grown up reading, and/or being read to, is a gifted storyteller, and it's his stories that keep him and others alive, or at least hopeful. But gradually, Felix must come to terms with the horrible realities surrounding him and reconcile fact and fiction. At one point, when Felix returns to his family's abandoned, ransacked house, he's told: "They're all gone...your parents, all of them." Felix thinks, I want him to stop. I want him to tell me it's just a story.

The Holocaust--and the murder of 1.5 million children--is not "just a story." It's a very real part of our history, one we can never forget. I'm thankful to the author for telling the childrens' stories, and keeping the history alive. This book had me boo-hooing by the end. Add it to your Holocaust YAL collection, and/or use it in a human rights unit to consider the modern-day genocides occuring in Rwanda and the Sudan. Would make a good pair with Boy in the Striped Pajamas and The Book Thief.

Monday, August 2, 2010

Traveling Back in Time



I had high hopes for this book. I mean, just look at the cover. And when you go to Holt's website and click on this title, there's a lovely old-timey, bluegrassy song playing that gets you in the mood.

The story is set in 1800s Missouri, during the time when newly-emigrated Americans are heading west in search of land and luck. Amos Kincaid is the central character, and he's ready for some good luck. His mom, Delilah, dies during childbirth, and his Dad--a trapper--hands him off to his brother for long seasons of time, only to come back and claim him years and years later. The story stretches over many years, and many miles, as Amos's dad, Jake, becomes a scout for a group of families traveling west to Oregon's Wilamette Valley. When Jake returns to Missouri for Amos, it's to bring Amos on the trip west with him.

The traveling west stuff is good and interesting, providing historical and realistic details about the great Western Migration. But the thing is--Amos and his Dad, Jake, are "dowsers," which means they have a magical gift of being able to locate water in the ground. This is a big help to families looking to settle, as many want to be close to water. Jake hates being a dowser, and only uses his gift when he needs to provide for his family. Amos eventually, as an older man, embraces the gift and eventually is able to provide for his family and community.

I really wanted to see Holt do more with this magical element of the story--maybe build up the tension between the son and father's differing views on their gifts, or make it a story, maybe, about the use of natural resources, and the power man has in making decisions about how individuals/communities use life-giving resources.

And what's up with Delilah--Amos's mom?? Before she dies, you get the sense that she's pretty powerful in her own right--there's always birds around when she's in the picture, and a group of mockingbirds attack her abusive dad, Eb, at one point. When she finds out she's pregnant with Amos, she has a dream that he gets passed down from woman to woman, and Amos does, losing a sense of home and family, only to figure out he can redefine those things on his own. What's cool is that each woman who becomes Amos's surrogate mom "sees" Delilah's ghost, as if Delilah is checking in, making sure Amos is properly tended to. She finally disappears when Amos becomes a man, which the reader learns has nothing to do with age but the choices we make. I wanted more Delilah, and I wanted more dowsing, so overall, I left this book feeling like I didn't know what it wanted to be about.

I think if teachers want a good middle-grades historical fiction book about early US settlement and western migration, this is a good one to have around. I think it would make a good pair, too, with We Never Speak of It: Idaho-Wyoming Poems, 1889-1890, a book of poems about Pioneer women and children's experiences during the Western Migration.

Wednesday, July 28, 2010

Boy YAL 2010

Hope any blog readers in the Knoxville area can make the "Best of the New, So Far" YAL workshop this Friday, but if not, here's some info. about some of the books for younger (upper middle grades) male readers I'll be talking about.

Missing in Action, by Dean Hughes

Jay’s dad, who is part Navajo, is Missing in Action (MIA) as he fights in WWII. When Jay and his mom move in with Jay’s grandparents in a new town (Delta, Utah), Jay builds up his dad to be a sports and military hero who will one day return. But who is Jay’s dad, really? Why is his mom always in a bad mood? And what will Jay’s new friends think when they find out he’s working with a “Jap” on his grandfather’s farm?

Heavy, complex themes abound in this book, but they're handled in a graceful, understated way. Reminded me a bit of Ann Burg's All the Broken Pieces.

This one would make a good addition to WWII-themed small-group literature circles, with Judy Blundell’s What I Saw and How I Lied, Sherri Smith’s Flygirl, Mal Peet’s Tamar, Virginia Euwer Wolff’s Bat 6, and Cynthia Fletcher’s Ten Cents a Dance.

Revolver, by Marcus Sedgwick

It's the early 1900s, it's cold as all-get-out (Arctic wilderness cold), and Sig's dad, Einar, has been a bad boy. So bad that he's being hunted by someone doubly bad, the "Bear Man." But before Bear Man can get to Einar, Einar dies mysteriously, leaving his son, Sig, and daughter, Anna, to deal with the consequences of their father's actions. When Bear Man finally does show up, Sig remembers his dad's old revolver that's hidden away...if he can just get it and distract Bear Man long enough, maybe he can take care of the brute once and for all. But it's never that easy, is it?

In spare, minimalist language (reminiscent of Paulsen, Hemingway, and Jack London), Revolver gets in your blood and stays there. Short, suspenseful chapters will keep readers interested, but the back and forth in time may confuse some. Reminded me a bit of Per Patterson's Out Stealing Horses. Would make a cool one-act play.

Woods Runner, by Gary Paulsen

Speaking of (short) bears, Gary Paulsen was in Knoxville not too long ago. It was the first time I'd ever heard him speak, and I loved him immediately. He kinda reminds me of Santa Claus. I'll forgive him his politics for a couple of reasons (he had good things to say about Sarah Palin, his fellow statesman): 1) I think he's a reformed beaver hunter and I'm sure he loves dogs; 2) he can spin a good yarn; 3) he's funny, and 4) his own childhood story about seeing his name on a library card for the first time (something he could actually call his own--he grew up dirt poor), and being turned onto books by someone who believed in him is so dang inspiring. I love this guy! And look what he's done for young (male) readers! I think he made it cool to read before reading was cool. I mean, remember the first time you read Hatchet?!?

So, in Paulsen's latest, readers meet thirteen-year-old Samuel, who lives in the Pennsylvania woods at the onset of the Revolutionary War. The French would call Samuel a courier du bois, a "woods runner," because of his hunting prowess and intuitive knowledge of the forest. The book reads: Samuel's knowledge grew until when he heard a twig break, he would know whether it was a deer or bear or squirrel that broke it. He could look at a track and know when the animal or man made it, and whether or not the creature was in a hurry and if so, why, and how fast it was going and what, if anything, was chasing it and how close the pursuer might be. And the more he was of the woods, of the wild, of the green, the less he was of the people...his skills and his woods knowledge set him apart, made him different.

It's this difference that might just save the lives of his parents, who were savagely attacked and captured by British soldiers (aided by the Iroquois), while Samuel was out hunting bear. Samuel must travel deep into enemy territory, tracking his parent's attackers, relying on his wits and knowledge of the forest to protect him. Along the way, Samuel witnesses the insanity, horror, and brutality of war.

Paulsen has said Woods Runner is not an attempt to write the history of the War for Independence, but instead, to "clarify some aspects of that conflict that have often been brushed over," such as the "real and horrible truths." Paulsen says in the Epilogue, "...the simple fact is that all combat is outrageous--thousands and thousands of young soldiers die horrible painful deaths lying in their own filth, alone and far from home, weak and hallucinating, forgotten and lost." But Paulsen says it is also "astonishing" to consider the "young men and boys [who] stood to as they did, in the face of withering odds, and actually won and created a new country with their blood."

Interspersed with the narrative are historical segments that provide some context and "reality" to Samuel's story.

Read more about Paulsen and Woods Runner here: http://bookpage.com/books.php?id=10012790

The Cardturner, by Louis Sachar

Ok, enough about guns and war (although card-playing can get pretty brutal). Sachar's latest is about bridge! As in cards, as in tricks and trumps! This is Sachar at his best, weaving together a smart, sophisticated, multi-layered story about bridge, of all things, and so much more.

Alton's girlfriend has dumped him for his best friend, his father's just been laid off, and now his mom has indentured him to be the cardturner for his rich, blind Uncle Lester, who just so happens to be a genius bridge-player. Part tribute to (and how-to) for the game of bridge, part coming-of-age story, and part philosophical take on things perceived and things real, this book hits home the importance of learning to turn over your own cards.

Read a well-written, witty review here: http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2010/jul/24/cardturner-louis-sachar-review

and then read the book! And play some cards!

Wednesday, July 14, 2010

The Beauty of The Book Thief


Three times in the past I have tried to read Marcus Zusak’s The Book Thief; I Am the Messenger is my favorite YA book since 2000 (I voted for it when Joan Kaywell sent her email around), so I figured I would dive in and read the monster book in no time flat. Well, each time I was interrupted and had to start over from the beginning. Well, after sitting on my bookshelf for four years and with the fall semester rapidly approaching, I decided it was time to read it so I will have time to plan with the teacher I will be working with.

I will be co-teaching in a local high school again this year in a 9th grade class with the teacher who worked with me and the summer reading program. We will be teaching entirely through YA lit! No boring textbook! No grammar book! No test preparation!

Back to The Book Thief.

Beyond the story, the writing is amazing! Last year, in my teaching writing class, I used Jeff Anderson’s Mechanically Inclined. In it, he promotes the use of “mentor texts,” wonderfully crafted sentences from literature to teach and reteach mechanics and grammar.

I thought it would be worth mentioning some of the beautiful language and stylistic devices in Zusak’s novel as they provide wonderful examples for students. And these are only a few from only the first 35 pages!

Fragments:
• I can be amiable. Agreeable. Affable. And that’s only the A’s. (p. 3)
• Then warming up completely. Healing. (p. 21)
• Wirelike shins. Coat hanger arms. (p. 31)

Personification:
• It was like the whole globe was dressed in snow. Like it had pulled it on, the way you pull on a sweater. (p. 6)
• The plane was still coughing. Smoke was leaking from both its lungs. (p. 9)
• The train limped through the snowed-in country. It hobbled in and stopped. (p. 22)
• That strange word was always there somewhere, standing in the corner, watching from the dark. It wore suits, uniforms. (p. 31)

Similes:
• The sky was like soup, boiling and stirring. (p. 12)
• The boy’s spirit was soft and cold, like ice cream. (p. 21)
• The cemetery welcomed me like a friend. (p. 22)

Metaphors:
• Liesel was sure her mother carried the memory of him, slung over her shoulder. (p. 25)
• The day was gray, the color of Europe. (p. 27)

Here, Zusak describes the inspiration behind this fabulous book: http://www.randomhouse.com/features/markuszusak/author.html#3

Thursday, July 8, 2010

What a great adventure!

I just finished The Evolution of Calpuria Tate by Jacqueline Kelly, and I loved every minute of this enchanting story about eleven year old Calpurnia. It's 1899, the cusp of a new millennium, and Calpurnia Tate discovers her grandfather, the natural world, and some things about herself. This story will make you laugh, make you think, and leave you extremely satisfied.

Calpurnia, the only girl from a family of seven children, fights to find her way in the world and discover what has meaning for her life. She also begins to realize the stereotypical expectations for girls of that time. But, she is determined to make her life count for more than tatting, sewing, and cooking. You will discover that some of the ways people think and act are timeless.

Jacqueline Kelly is a practicing physician and lawyer, and this is her first novel. I really hope she keeps writing!

Saturday, July 3, 2010

Copper Sun

Wow, wow, wow. Holy friggin' moly, is this book good. It's gut-wrenching--made me feel angry, sorrowful, solemn, dejected--and made me hate White people. And I'm White. (Well, not all White people. Just mean, racist ones).

Copper Sun weaves together the stories of Amari, a teenaged African girl stolen from her homeland (after she witnesses the slaughter of her family/village), and Polly, a White teenaged girl who is an indentured servant. Polly must pay off the indenture of her deceased parents. Amari and Polly are thrown together on Mr. Derby's plantation in South Carolina. Mr. Derby tells Polly she must teach Amari how to speak English and, at first, Polly is appalled that she must work with a slave and not serve in the "big house." Slowly, however, the two become friends, and as Polly witnesses the brutality and violence of slave-life, she becomes an ally to Amari and other slaves on the plantation. Amari and the other slaves start to see, too, that not all Whites have it so good, although as Amari reminds Polly, she could escape whenever she wanted to and not lose her life for it. Amari reminds Polly throughout the novel that, while they have some things in common, Polly's skin color will always protect her.

Sharon Draper says she spent years doing research for this novel, and I believe it. The story feels unapologetically authentic--it doesn't skimp on the details of the brutal acts committed in the name of slavery, especially those against African women who were sex toys to their White masters by night and chattel by day. A student in my YA class read Copper Sun last year and said the book made her "feel" what slavery must have been like. Like me, she was emotionally impacted by the story--it's got an impact like Toni Morrison's Beloved, a classic contemporary slave narrative that you continue to think about for a long time after the last page is turned.

You can see Sharon Draper's website here: http://sharondraper.com/

Reviews of Copper Sun are here http://www.teenreads.com/reviews/0689821816.asp
http://www.schoollibraryjournal.com/article/CA6298133.html

You can also learn more about the Coretta Scott King book awards here: http://www.ala.org/ala/mgrps/rts/emiert/cskbookawards/about.cfm

If you're looking for something to read on this July 4th weekend, consider Copper Sun.

Friday, July 2, 2010

Mal Peet


















If you don't know about Mal Peet, you'll want to. Relatively new on the YA scene, Englishman Mal Peet's first YA novel, Keeper, was published in 2003, followed by Tamar in 2005. I actually read Tamar first and LOVED it. It's about Dutch resistance fighters during WWII, the consequences of war, the consequences of being alienated and disconnected from the past. I use it with Judy Blundell's What I Saw and How I Lied, Fletcher's Ten Cents a Dance, Sherri Smith's Flygirl, and Art Spiegelman's Maus in small-group literature circles when I do historical fiction in my young adult lit. class. All of these novels provide a unique perspective on the WWII time period, letting us hear the oft-neglected voices and stories of those people who weren't American (male) soldiers or Holocaust survivors of WWII, but were also effected by the war in complex ways. There's a good review of Tamar here: http://writingwrongs.wordpress.com/2009/03/15/review-tamar-by-mal-peet/


Keeper is about a famous soccer player called "El Gato" (the Cat) who, as goalkeeper, has just helped his team win the World Cup. I didn't watch a single bit of the soccer madness over the last couple of weeks. I just don't give a whit about soccer. But this book makes me wish I at least knew what a penalty kick is, or how the defensive line works, or what a forward does. I get the idea, and that's probably because Peet's writing about the game is so breath-taking. You can tell Peet's a real soccer fan. But this book, as all good sports YA books are, is about much more than soccer. There's the ghost in the jungle who trains "El Gato," there's the relentless journalist after a good story (and a fat bonus), and then there's all that clear-cutting going on in Gato's village...lots of stuff to think about here. I'd recommend putting this in the classroom library, or use it in differentiated whole-class instruction if your thematic goals involve exploring the intersections among Third World poverty, corporate exploitation, environmental destruction, and sports. I found out about the book through Teaching for Change's suggested summer reading list: http://bbpbooks.teachingforchange.org/

The journalist who interviews "El Gato" in Keeper pops up again in Peet's next book, The Penalty, about a teenage football prodigy. Haven't read this one, but plan to. Word on the street is that Peet's most recent novel, published in 2008--called Exposure--is about a Black football player and was inspired by Shakespeare's Othello. Add it to the stack.

I also like what Mal Peet says about how he got started writing for adolescents: "Like many people (I suspect) I had no real interest in children's literature until I had children of my own. It'll sound a bit evangelical, I suppose, but I truly believe that there are few things more important, useful, and protective than sharing stories with your children. After their bath, heaped into a big, deep chair, doing the voices, discussing the pictures, softening your voice as the rhythm of their breathing deepens. . . . You start to understand why certain books work and others don't."

His books work!!