Zetta Elliott,
Ship of Souls
AmazonEncore, 2011.

Ages 11+

Dimitri’s life almost falls apart when his beloved mother dies. Then the solidity provided by a kind foster-mother is rocked when she takes in a crack-addicted baby who requires all her attention. It seems that D no longer has any emotional attachments, something that will become a necessity later in the story – but friendships can blossom from the most unpromising circumstances. In D’s case, being a ‘math genius’ in the words of a peer means he is asked to tutor the older basket-ball star Hakeem; and to D’s surprise, he also makes friends with Nyla the most popular and independently spirited girl in the school. D learns not to judge a book by its cover – Hakeem struggles with perceptions of him as a Muslim, following 9/11; and Nyla has a complex relationship with her step-mother. All three soon find, however, that despite having very little in common on the surface, they can be friends – and by the end of the book that friendship will have been tested in an increasingly chilling adventure beyond their or the reader’s wildest imagination.

Author Zetta Elliot’s skill is evident in the deft blending of down-to-earth, empathetic realism with a wholly convincing fantasy plot that draws on certain events in the history of New York, including the recent discovery of an old ship during construction work at Ground Zero. Elliot’s explanation for its being there is so much more enthralling than archaeologists’ suggestions that it was used as eighteenth-century landfill. Elliot also draws on an area of American civil war history that reaches out (quite literally!) across the centuries, via a plaque in Prospect Park commemorating American and German soldiers who fought there together. This thrill of the macabre is tempered with a yearning for reconciliation, for which D turns out to be the catalyst. In fact, the adventures that unfold after D takes an injured bird home from the park take not only D himself but also Nyla and Keem on a journey that could potentially destroy them all.

Nyra’s cry at one point of “They’re not going to believe that!” somehow does not apply to the book’s readers, who will be swept along on the tide of events: no mean feat for a work of fantasy, especially one set in a convincingly portrayed contemporary world. All in all, this fast-paced, well-written story will have readers on the edge of their seat, whether they generally profess to enjoying fantasy books or not. Just be prepared to have your spine tingled and to come away enriched.

Marjorie Coughlan
June 2012

This past Wednesday, March 21 was World Poetry Day as first proclaimed by UNESCO in 1999.  I spent World Poetry Day attending a reading of local poets in my town of Winnipeg put on by the poetry magazine CV2.  Of course, there were various other events occurring all over the world to celebrate the day and one on-line site that caught my eye was YARN.  For World Poetry Day, seven poems were published on the site on the theme of  “Measuring the World, the Geography of Poetry” inspired by the ancient poet Eratosthenes.  Do check out this great site, especially informative for young adult writers and readers! And congratulations to the poets whose work was selected — an international bunch from far-flung places like Israel, Japan, Argentina and Canada.

This week Poetry Friday is hosted by Franki and Mary Lee at A Year of Reading.

March 11 marks the first year anniversary of the disastrous earthquake and tsunami that hit northern Japan.  One event that will commemorate the disaster as well as raise funds for ongoing work in the area for teenagers particularly,  is the launching of the Tomo anthology (Stonebridge Press) on March 10.   The Tomo anthology was conceived of by writer Holly Thompson of Japan as a fundraiser for teens in the Tohoku region.  An array of writing was assembled and edited by Thompson, the result of which is a beautiful collection of writing aimed at young adults.  Recently, on the Tomo blog, interviews with some of the writers/translators have been appearing and one such translator is David Sulz, who translated the well known Kenji Miyazawa poem Ame no Mikazu (“Be Not Defeated by the Rain.”) A deceptively simple poem, “Be Not Defeated by the Rain,” is a manifesto of sorts, oddly humble and defiant at the same time.  Its message speaks deeply of a man’s singular determination to overcome the vagaries of nature by being the best he can be to others in his community.   I have loved this poem since I first read it, and it seems an appropriate poem for this anniversary.  I’m glad to see it included in this anthology.

Poetry Friday this week is hosted by Myra at Gathering Books.

Shaun Tan,
The Bird King and Other Sketches
Templar Publishing (UK), 2011; first published by Windy Hollow Books (Australia), 2010.

Ages 9 +

Shaun Tan’s beautifully produced sketchbook, The Bird King, generously lays bare the creative process of illustration. While not specifically designed for children, Tan’s familiar images are of instant, near-universal appeal, and his explanatory text will be a revelation to young fans, especially aspiring artists.

Tan’s introduction references Klee’s famous description of drawing as “taking a line for a walk.” The colored and black-and-white drawings are divided into sections. Images in which “one little drawing is enough” to suggest a whole story comprise the untold stories section. In book, theatre and film, Tan describes his preliminary sketches as “a constant reminder of what I was ‘getting at’ in the first place” during longer creative processes. In drawings from life, we see “ongoing studies in the relationship of line, form, colour and light” that are crucial to an artist’s lifelong process of learning to see. A final section, notebooks, is culled from small ball point pen sketches, doodles and scribbles, some “an equivalent to daydreaming” that Tan poetically compares to fishing: “casting loose lines into a random sea… catching ideas that might otherwise be hidden beneath the waves.”

The drawings themselves also include little notes, ideas for development, and titles that further decipher the artist’s visual language. One double-page drawing entitled “Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man” features a dozen of Tan’s creatures marching behind a small boy, bird on his head, palette in hand. The only color on the page is a splash of orange dropping from his brush, repeated on the body of a goldfish, held aloft in a bowl, by a large creature with a diving bell head in which a bird in a beret stands at the wheel. In Tan’s quixotic imagination, the robotic and the humanizing hover in edgy balance.

The production quality of this small hardcover book is excellent. Partially bound in red cloth, with embossed lettering on the front cover, it’s held closed with a red elastic band; a blue ribbon bookmark is sewn into the binding. The back matter includes a list of the drawings in the book (noting materials used and the original purpose of each sketch) and a bibliography of Tan’s published works.

Young artists will learn more from studying the lines Tan takes for a walk than from any number of art classes. Children who already know and love books by the 2011 Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award winner will recognize preliminary sketches of work from favorite books. For newcomers, The Bird King is a great introduction to this evocative Australian writer-illustrator.

Charlotte Richardson
February 2012

Allen Say,
Drawing from Memory
Scholastic Press, 2011.

Ages 10+

Before even opening Allen Say’s latest book, the play on words of the title, Drawing from Memory, gives the reader a frisson of anticipation, enhanced by the simple cover illustration, a self-portrait of a young Allen Say floating, perhaps, in contemporary consideration of what has now become past. By the time we meet the illustration again in its context of an elated twelve-year-old Say having moved into his own one-room apartment, we are well and truly engrossed. Both before and after that defining moment in Say’s life, drawing is central to his existence. His childhood was not straightforward but Say recounts it with a lightness of touch in both words and pictures that is perfectly attuned to his readership. My favourite is perhaps the juxtaposition of a very small Allen drawing, drawing, drawing. Next along, a small boy walks away from his latest work, as his parents look in anger (father) and horror (mother) at the wall that has been turned into an artist’s canvas. The accompanying text, meanwhile, gives his father’s veto of art as a career for his son. This balance of humor and underlying tensions continues through the book, which ends with Say’s departure for America at the age of fifteen, “ready to start a new life with what I could carry on my back.”

Devotees of Say’s work will find vignettes linking to his previous books: however, the greatest parallels can be drawn with Say’s autobiographical novel The Ink Keeper’s Apprentice, for which Drawing from Memory is an absolutely must-have companion. For here at last is a full portrait of the real Sensei Noro Shinpei, the famous cartoonist to whom Say rather precociously and wholly pivotally apprenticed himself. Included in the narrative are photographs, nuggets of wisdom, and absorbing examples of Shinpei’s work. These include two cartoon characters that were Say and his fellow-apprentice Tokida, getting out of all sorts of scrapes. How wonderful is that! Further background about his later contact with Shinpei, who died in 2002, is given in Say’s moving Afterword.

Throughout the book, Say provides many vivid portraits: as well as his family, Sensei and Tokida, there is his art teacher Miss Goldfish, and her former pupil Orito-san, who taught Say karate as well as drawing from classical sculpture. And through it all is the self-portrait of a young man: his determination to be an artist no matter what, set against a complex family background and the cultural context of post-war Japan.

The story of Say’s childhood is a compelling one. It is fitting that, as an artist, he should tell it through pictures as well as words: and indeed, Say’s skilful combination of illustration and writing renders this account a masterpiece of graphic storytelling.

Marjorie Coughlan
December 2011

B. L. Sauder,
Year of the Golden Dragon
Coteau Books for Kids, 2009.

Ages 12-15

The drums have stopped. What does it mean? Master Chen knows. The Black Dragon is angry.

Thousands of years ago a jealous wife of the Emperor of China broke a gift of jade from the powerful Black Dragon. In turn, the angry Black Dragon demanded that all descendents of the Emperor join together at capital’s river to return that gift of jade to him the next time the Year of the Golden Dragon met the millennium – two thousand years later. In this beautiful blend of ancient legend and modern-day metropolis, B.L. Sauder fashions a tale of fantasy, mystery, and family as Chen Hong Mei from China and brothers Ryan and Alexander Wong from Canada, all descendants of the emperor, face, and must fix, the consequences of this ancient legend.

Mysteries have long shaped Ryan, Alex and Hong Mei’s lives – mysteries that converge during the year the millennium meets the Year of the Golden Dragon. Where did Hong Mei’s father go, and why does her mother never speak of him? What really happened during the fire that killed Ryan and Alex’s parents? Why did all their parents so treasure the jade pieces each of them carries and why do so many people now seem determined to steal them? Fans of Rick Riordan’s “Percy Jackson” series and Blue Balliett’s mysteries will particularly enjoy the mixture of present and past, everyday existence and otherworldly life, and myth and adventure spiced by danger and family secrets.

Ancient magic blends into twenty-first century life as Ryan and Alex travel with their aunt and uncle from Canada to China to celebrate the New Year. But their trip takes an unexpected turn when they discover they must unite with fellow descendant Hong Mei to beat the clock – and ever-present enemies – to unravel and execute the ancient task given to them by the Black Dragon. Together the three find themselves caught up in a fantastical and fantastic series of events centered around three pendants of precious jade, a deadly enemy and a two-thousand-year-old mystery that will change all of their lives forever. Advance readers and reluctant readers alike will enjoy the quick pacing and blend of fantasy and reality in this tale of destiny and adventure.

Sara Hudson
October 2011

Holly Thompson,
Orchards
Delacorte Press, 2011.

Ages 12+

Kana Goldberg is a half-Jewish, half-Japanese American teenager. Because of a classmate’s suicide for which she feels some responsibility – she was amongst a clique of girls that made unkind remarks to the suicide victim – she has been sent off to Japan for the summer to work in her grandparents mikan (or mandarin orange) orchards. While there, she has to negotiate the difficulty of adjusting to life in Japan as an American of mixed Japanese ancestry. Her Japanese family, while sensitive and accommodating, are nonetheless different in their world views. In spending time with them, however, Kana begins to heal and gain perspective on the events that occurred; in so doing, she makes contact with one of the people involved, and that leads to an unexpected ending.

Orchards is Thompson’s debut novel for young adults and is written in verse. In general, I have mixed feelings about the YA verse novel: however, Thompson’s Orchards has a kind of resonant beauty slightly reminiscent of haiku where images from the orchard and the surrounding landscape linger in the mind. Brevity of life, fleeting impressions, contemplative reflections on Nature are often the ‘stuff’ of Japanese poetry and some of that sensibility is conveyed in Orchards. But there is also real teenage drama here, moving the book forward as a story – issues with body image, feelings of estrangement, angst and regret.

Thompson (The Wakame Gatherers) is a longtime resident of Japan who teaches creative writing at Yokohama University. In Orchards, she has sensitively portrayed life in Japan for many a cross-cultural teenager – particularly those who experience life in two vastly different worlds because of their connection to Japan through a parent or relative. I think this is the aspect of Orchards I appreciated the most, having had similar experiences to the protagonist Kana, in visiting my relatives over the years in Japan. There were finely tuned details in Orchards that I found familiar, like hoarding snacks because meals don’t seem quite enough, or comments people make about your appearance or the way you speak. Kana is a character one can readily identify with and have sympathy for.

Orchards is an especially rewarding read for those interested in cross-cultural experiences between Japan and America. It is also a poignant rendering of a young woman’s psyche as she seeks to heal from a traumatic event in her life; this facet of Orchards makes it a story with universal appeal.

Sally Ito
September 2011

On Wednesday, Older Brother, Little Brother and I had the thrill of hearing this year’s Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award winner Shaun Tan speak at Seven Stories in Newcastle, during his whistle-stop visit to the UK. I’ve loved his work since being mesmerised by The Arrival four years ago; and we’ve also had the privilege of featuring Shaun’s work in our PaperTigers Gallery. Shaun’s picture books truly tap into something essential in our existence so that no matter how old you are and whatever your life experience, there is something there for everyone to absorb and distill. His books have had a big impact on the boys too, and it was a real eye-opener for them to meet their creator and hear about the drawn out process and sheer hard work that goes into producing a book. Now we are all desperate to see the Oscar-winning short of The Lost Thing!

Older Brother was most struck by Shaun saying that imperfection was a “very important concept for an artist”; and that he is always aiming for simplicity, because it’s through that apparent simplicity that he can achieve layer upon layer of meaning. Then accompanying the text with unexpected illustrations to create further tensions – but he pointed out that he wouldn’t call his work surreal per se: rather, the unexpected juxtaposition of familiar objects in his work is what is surreal.

Little Brother especially loved the first in Shaun’s series of cartoons depicting a day in his life: Waking to the Sound of a Solitary Cicada – a huge cicada looming in through the open window. He’s still laughing about that (but, as is so often the case with Shaun’s work, for me, the more I think about it, the more the funniness is tempered with a feeling of unease…). Little Brother also came home thinking about the humor and tensions achieved by people/creatures doing extrordinary things as though they are completely normal – like feeding Christmas decorations to a huge, friendly monster-machine aka the Lost Thing. And when Shaun pointed out that, as per the element of the familiar present in all his creations, the Lost Thing is a cross between a dog, a horse and an elephant, yes, you can absolutely see it.

I was bowled over by (more…)

Today, August 19th,  is designated by the United Nations General Assembly as World Humanitarian Day: a day to recognize the sacrifices and contributions of humanitarian workers around the world who risk their lives to give others help and hope. It is also a day to examine our own lives and consider what more we can do to help those people enduring conflict, disaster and hardship.

As the UN states:

There is never a year without humanitarian crises (at this moment over 12 million people are suffering in the Horn of Africa due to a catastrophic combination of conflict, high food prices and drought). Wherever there are people in need, there are people who help them. Aid workers help people who have lost their homes, loved ones and sources of income.

These humanitarians often brave great danger, far from home. They work long hours, in the most difficult conditions.  Their efforts save lives in conflict and natural disaster.  They also draw the world closer together by reminding us that we are one family, sharing the same dreams for a peaceful planet, where all people can live in safety, and with dignity.

On World Humanitarian Day, we honour these aid workers and thank them for their dedication. And we pay tribute to those who have made the ultimate sacrifice – in Afghanistan, Haiti and beyond.  Too many have died, or suffered their own loss, in the course of duty.  We pledge to do all we can to ensure the world’s humanitarians are kept safe to do their essential work.

The World Humanitarian Day website provides information, stories and interactive games for those interested in learning more about humanitarian work and how they can become involved. Of course another great way, especially for youngsters to learn about humanitarian work  and what it entails, is via books.  It is interesting to note that over the past few years there has been an increasing number of children’s and young adult books (both fiction and non-fiction) that feature areas of humanitarian work. Deborah Ellis’  books and Rukhsana Khan‘s Wanting Mor immediately come to mind, and others include:

Armando and the Blue Tarp School by Edith Hope Fine and Judith Pinkerton Josephson, illustrated by Hernan Sosa

Books for Children of the World: The Story of Jella Lepman by Sydelle Pearl, illustrated by Danlyn Iantorno

The Brighter Side of the Road: Upbeat and Offbeat Yarn from Home and Abroad, edited by Helen Coughlan and Janet Lawrence

Four Feet, Two Sandals by Karen Lynn Williams and Khadra Mohammed, illustrated by Doug Chayka

Listen to the Wind: The Story of Dr. Greg and Three Cups of Tea by Greg Mortenson and Susan Roth, illustrated by Susan Roth

One Well: The Story of Water on Earth by Rochelle Strauss, illustrated by Rosemary Woods

A Song for Cambodia by Michelle Lord, illustrated by Shino Arihara

Please feel free to share your choices in our comments section.

Forward by N. R. Narayana Murthy,
A Clear Blue Sky: Stories and Poems on Conflict and Hope
Puffin Books, India, 2010.

Ages 13+

War. Violence. Death. Poverty. Hatred. Displacement. No matter where we live, as human beings we hope that these dark parts of life will not touch our lives, but even more, that they will not touch the lives of our children and young people. For many, however, darkness weighs heavy on childhood. This has been particularly true for millions living in southeastern Asia over the last decades, as religious and national conflicts have marked and scarred the lives of the children growing up in them. This collection of stories and poems from writers from India, Sri Lanka and Pakistan sings stories of their national and personal grief.

The grace of the collection is how the writers manage to remind us of our own saving grace: how, paradoxically, “conflict and hope” can co-exist, as the subtitle indicates. In “A Time to Mend” by Asha Nehemiah, after an angry mob breaks into a church in Bangalore, beating the priest and leaving the church in ruins, a shaken and distraught Mubina and her brother bring home the damaged altar cloth, where their grandmother, the one person in the city with the skill to repair it, makes it whole again. In another story, “The Answer” by Rohini  Chowdhury, childhood sweethearts meet again, decades after being torn apart by the 1947 Partition of India and Pakistan. Perhaps one of the most haunting stories is Adithi Rao’s brilliantly told “Turban for A Little Boy”, which uses the format of a boy’s essay to convey how the innocence of a child can unintentionally provide the catalyst for evil – and how that innocence is then scarred.

Masterful storytelling techniques throughout offer classroom uses far beyond social studies; and the short bios of each writer at the end of the book also provide options for further reading.  The stories question the very idea of the reality of storytelling itself. Some tales are clearly fiction, but others, particularly a set of first-person stories, will leave their teenage readers wondering, “Was that real? Did that happen to the author? Or is it made up, historical fiction?” Such doubt creates unique teaching moments, about perception and reality, and about storytelling itself, as well as about the way people thrive, survive, and find hope in shards of despair.

Sara Hudson
July 2011