Highly Illogical Behaviour – John Corey Whaley

Highly Illogical Behaviour – John Corey Whaley

Likely to be a novel that I recommend widely to a variety of people.

Highly Illogical Behaviour - John Corey Whaley

Solomon Reed hasn’t been outside for three years. He’s a sixteen year old agoraphobe, unable to cope with the displeasing complexities of the outside world, most probably other human beings. Lisa Praytor has a scholarship dream and a control problem. Put the two together and you have a potentially cheesy sitcom drama or you have a novel that is thoroughly entertaining and reflective. You might even get a friendship. Throw in Superman, Star Trek, a church-going summer camper, and things coming out of the closet, and you definitely get Highly Illogical Behaviour.

Solomon Reed is an adorable character. Like most of the crazy kids, there is much more to him than meets the eye – and even he doesn’t realise this. I thought that Lisa might have made the novel terribly annoying, but even she grew on me. I loved the way that the relationship between Lisa and her boyfriend, Clark, is turned on its stereotypical head when it comes to sex.

The novel is written in the third person, and I think this ramps up the humour level a little because the narrator throws in some background details that are exactly what we’d probably all be thinking but would never tell. The narrator alternates their attention between chapters for Solomon and Lisa buts puts in a lot of dialogue – and some of it is paragraphs long. But, you don’t notice this and the writing flows at a pacey rate.

One of my favourite lines from the novel (and yes, it’s on the book’s back jacket blurb): “Sometimes life just hands you the lemonade, straight up in a chilled glass with a little slice of lemon on top.” Sums the novel up perfectly, really.

If you like John Green’s writing and if you laughed out loud and fell in love with The Rosie Project, Highly Illogical Behaviour will probably also hit the sweet spot for you. It did for me.

Highly Illogical Behaviour has been nominated for the 2017 Carnegie Medal.

Publication details: Faber & Faber, 2016, London, paperback

This copy: review copy from the publisher

The Book of Unknown Americans - Cristina Henriquez

The Book of Unknown Americans by Cristina Henriquez

 

Review by M (adult fiction)

 

The Book of Unknown Americans is a immigration story. I will never tire of these. This one is especially tender and it's also a little different to some of the others that I have read.
 

The novel puts ‘parents doing their best for their children’ at its heart. The main plot follows the Rivera family who leave a life that they love in Mexico in order for their teen daughter, Maribel, to attend a special needs school in the USA. They arrive in Delaware to find that their new home is in a bare grey apartment building in the middle of nowhere.

From here on, the novel really is The Book of Unknown Americans and it follows this premise in both its narrative structure and in its plot. While the plot of the Rivera family (how they came to be here and how they get on) brings flow to the novel, it’s the apartment building residents and a tragically bittersweet coming-of-age tale that really bring the novel to life.

The chapters are narrated by different characters, and all of them are people who are South American immigrants residing in the same block as the Riveras. Some of these chapters add to the development of the main plot but a few of them are an aside, where the character simply tells us how they came to live here – and their stories are all so different yet so similar too. In this way, a varied and moving picture of immigration is created. Mixed in with all the poverty and sorrows, there is a lot of joy, and hope, and life.

The UK cover (pictured here) fittingly combines the tone, hue and themes of the novel: a variety of South American people with their hopes, dreams, stories and labours holding up America. This is the statue of liberty as we don’t usually see it, with its added textured colours giving life to what is often just a grey structure.

 

Publication details: 5 June 2014, Canongate, Edinburgh, trade paperback

This copy: for review from the publisher

 

 

 

The Wall - William Sutcliffe

The Wall by William Sutcliffe

 

Review by M

The Wall has been nominated and longlisted for the Carnegie medal 2014.

The Wall is a compelling story about a young teenage boy who follows his curiosity, stumbles into something he can’t control and then tries to do ‘the right thing’, which heartbreakingly sets in motion a train of events that go catastrophically wrong.

Based on experiences of Israeli settlements of the occupied West Bank and written as a modern fable, The Wall is clearly intended to be a profound and important novel. Exploring the good and the ugly of moral decision making, it is one of those ought-to-read novels with a heartbreakingly poignant story and an overall call to action.

But, for all of its heavy and heartfelt subject matter, ironically this novel has a quiet and gentle tone.  The writing is often descriptive and the pace is often quite slow even though it is punctuated by a variety of chases and action. I occasionally found myself skipping bits because I wanted to know what happened. Saying that, the prose is eloquent so if you choose to linger, you’ll be in a good place. For me, Joshua's family problems and small romantic developments weakened the plot and distracted from the story.

There is violence in the novel but it is not graphic and would be suitable for younger readers. The back of the book recommends further reading for readers who are interested in discovering more about the conflicts between Israel and Palestine.

Highly recommended for anyone interested in how we live now and how we could live tomorrow. Also recommended for any teen who’s wondering about how to find their way in the world.

Publication details: Bloomsbury, 2013, London, hardback

This copy: review copy from the publisher

Leopold Blue - Rosie Rowell

Leopold Blue by Rosie Rowell

Review by M

 

Leopold is a small (fictional) town set in the Cederberg valley in South Africa, near Cape Town. There, the sky is blue and playing chicken in the main street on a Sunday is not as daring as it sounds. Fifteen year old Meg lives here with her sister and her parents. Life seems simple and monotonous although Meg’s mother, the return of Simon, and the arrival of Xanthe threaten to upset all sorts of applecarts.

Set in the early 1990s in the lead up to South Africa’s first democratic elections in 1994, Leopold Blue presents a charming and thoughtful slice of life from a rural, white, English-speaking, teenage girl’s point-of-view. The novel shows how every one of those little adjectives made a difference to Meg’s life.

 A tumultuous time in South Africa’s history when it wasn't sure whether is was still in or out of apartheid, Leopold Blue captures the pregnant mood of a nation and of individual people very well: the hopes and the fears, the celebrations and the dangers, the deceits, and the getting on with life. The novel is a very level-headed representation with a tone that is as warm as the bright sun you’d find in a Leopold blue sky but with a hint of grit just below the surface dust.

Early on, and more than once in the novel, characters present perspectives that overlook glaring issues about foreign interventions which I expected the author to highlight for a UK audience. Further on, Rowell does this, and she does it well and believably. Of all the characters, Simon was a jarring one and whether that is Rowel’s intention or not is curious. The novel definitely focuses most on the character of Meg and the small interiority of her world and how it starts to open up. I enjoyed it for doing that.

Footnotes are provided for the South African words and local slang so there’s a flow of understanding that’s not interrupted by turning to a glossary at the back.

For UK teenagers, Leopold Blue is a refreshingly alternative coming-of-age read with glimpses into a culture that is at once familiar yet also very different. Anyone else curious about that period of history will probably enjoy it. It will probably appeal to fans of Friday Brown (Vikki Wakefield) or Raspberries on the Yangtze (Karen Wallace).

Leopold Blue is a story that is very close to my own childhood so I was either going to love it or hate it. I read it quickly and let my thoughts rest for a few days before I wrote this review. I loved Leopold Blue and I’ll be highly recommending it.

  

Publication details: January 2013, Hot Key Books, London, paperback

This copy: uncorrected proof for review from the publisher

Ghost Hawk - Susan Cooper

Ghost Hawk by Susan Cooper

Review by M

Ghost Hawk is an unusual, inspiring and sad story about two friends, a clash of cultures and ghosts. I loved it.

Little Hawk is a Pokanoket Indian. John is a British immigrant in America. They live different lives in different, and sometimes conflicting, cultures. A couple of chance encounters mark their friendship and seal both their fates. Coincidentally, at age eleven, they both go on different journeys. John’s journey becomes a story that he must keep secret or risk being branded a witch. The narrative combines both John and Little Hawk’s stories but is told just from Little Hawk’s point of view.

The friendship between Little Hawk and John is so vivid and beguiling, you can almost touch it. It is a fictional friendship that I will remember for a long time: in some ways, it gives the poignancy of Code Name Verity’s Maddie and Queenie’s relationship a run for its money.

A fantastical story about an unlikely and tricky friendship, Ghost Hawk is also a story about early British settlement in North America and how something as simple as living together – be you beast, human, or earth - can be so complicated and devastating. The novel is set in the mid 1650s around the time when the first British people started to settle in North America. It draws on a large amount of historical research and some of the subsidiary characters’ names are taken direct from history.

The first two sections of the novel are its strongest and my favourite. The first section is good and exciting and interesting and then – shockingly! - it changes. An anticipation for what is to come falls beautifully into place for the reader and the story starts to weave many strong threads together. The last few sections draw the stories to their necessary and neat closes.

Themes in the novel include the way we treat the earth: as a resource or as its own living entity; cultural clashes; colonialism; religion and beliefs; and friendship. There were plenty of lines in the novel that made me stop and think. Things like the need to extend warmth to those who live beyond the family. But, above all that, Ghost Hawk is glorious storytelling.

The tone of the novel is gentle and reminiscent of ThingsFall Apart. In many ways, it reads like a Things Fall Apart tale for current day children and pre-colonial America. The intertwined histories will also likely appeal to many fans of Nick Lake’s In Darkness. There is death and a few violent scenes (though not gratuitous or entertainingly enhanced) in Ghost Hawk but the graphic violence is not as vivid nor as sustained as In Darkness, making it more suitable for a younger audience too.

I added a ‘you should read this’ tag when I highly recommended this novel to Little M. It’s one of the best stories I’ve read for a long while. Whether you like history, epic adventure, great characters or light fantasy, this is an enthralling story whichever way you look at it.

 

Publication details: Bodley Head, 29 August 2013, London, hardback
This copy: received for review from the publisher

The Catcher in the Rye - M's review

The Catcher in the Rye by JD Salinger

Classics Club Review by M

The Catcher in the Rye is narrated by Holden Caulfield. He starts off by saying that he’s not going to tell us too much. And he doesn’t. It’s a short novel (about 200 pages, small type though) and the plot covers just a few days - a few days that he tells us covers some “madman” stuff when he’s just been dropped by his private Pennsylvanian prep school for failing too many subjects. He’s not too keen to tell his parents and, with only himself to blame, things go a bit haywire for him.

I first read The Catcher in the Rye when I was thirteen and just about to finish primary school. My English teacher had recommended it to me and apparently I loved it so much that my parents bought me my own copy as a gift nearly ten years later. That also means the copy I read must have been lent to me from either the teacher or the library.

I can hazard guesses at what I liked about it so much then: teenage angst and rebellion would be at the top of the list; chunting about the state of people living in the world around me would be another; and it was possibly the first plot thin novel I’d ever read.

So what did I think now?

For the first few chapters I was a bit sceptical about the story. Holden doesn’t like anyone and he’s overly caustic and rude in his judgements about them. I can see why many readers see him as an unsympathetic character. Despite some unpleasant content, it’s nevertheless a smooth read (which is surprising because there are hardly any paragraphs!) and I wanted to read on. Having read it before, I should have known what happens (but I’d forgotten the whole thing completely!) and I thought that someone was going to get hurt – I just didn’t know who or how. I read it quickly and more-or-less in one go. However, if it was a new read and if it hadn’t been a cult classic, I might have skipped out on finishing it. I’m glad I stuck with it though.

By the end, I'd warmed to Holden hugely. Yes, he’s rich and abuses his privileges, and yes he’s rude about people. But, I suspect his character was a pretty accurate portrayal of someone in his position at that time. On the surface, he’s sexist too but underneath (and when it really counts) he actually treats girls far better than any of his friends: he’s torturing himself about stopping when someone says ‘no’ (although I’m not giving him too many brownie points because he does this out of cowardice rather than for any loftier reasons). There are a number of other things that suggest Holden is a nicer person than he seems so maybe his name calling all those ‘phoneys’ and ‘jerks’ around him are justified.

I’m not saying what happens in the novel other than there really isn’t too much plot. The Catcher in the Rye is all about Holden’s state-of-mind from his point-of-view. If you can cope with all the slodgy murk that goes with that, you’ll probably like the novel.

First published in 1951, and regarded by many as one of the first novels about the ‘teenage condition’ (if there is one), The Catcher in the Rye has been both revered and reviled and repeatedly finds itself on a number of ‘banned’ and ‘challenged’ lists. Of course, there’s the language: lots of swearing and references to sex but ‘sexual intercourse’ and ‘goddam’ are as strong as it gets, so language-wise it’s tame in comparison to some of today’s YA fiction. And of course, Salinger didn’t write with a teen nor a politically correct audience in mind, which I think is a strength. The most surprising thing about The Catcher in the Rye, is that while it could be seen as a very despairing story, ultimately, to me, it is a very hopeful novel.

I think I can see why my teacher recommended it to thirteen year old me: not least would have been that it was a highly challenged book! Interestingly, I don’t know if my copy is a censored edition or not.  I wouldn’t say that I loved reading it a second time round but overall, I enjoyed it and liked it much more than I was expecting. I would recommend it to older teens or younger readers that I knew for all sorts of different reasons. The writing style is likely to be quite different to most other novels they've read.

Some key issues in the novel include teenage angst and rebellion, belonging, sex (including prostitution), education, depression, suicide, death, privilege, adult/child relationships and (possibly) grief.

 

Publication details: 1958, Penguin, London (first published 1951)

This copy: my own (Easter gift from my parents).

 

Paper Aeroplanes - M's review

Paper Aeroplanes by Dawn O’Porter

Paper Aeroplanes is a story about friendship and being a teenage girl. Renee and Flo are finishing their GCSEs at an independent, all-girls school on the small island of Guernsey. Their families have suffered break-ups and deaths, and they’re not coping very well. Both girls are desperately lonely and struggling with awfully bullying friendships, overbearingly sexist brothers, difficult parents and carers, boyfriends and puberty.

The novel’s appeal is in its depiction of schoolgirl friendships, the highs and the lows, and the really nasty bits too. A warm, frank tone, with a few funny and emotionally teary moments, is mixed in with crudely graphic yet honest representations of puberty and sex. Many of the characters make choices that impact on both themselves and other people, and have long term consequences.

Paper Aeroplanes has been viewed as brutally honest - it is definitely mortification highway! (Thankfully), Renee and Flo’s experiences were more embarrassing than anything I ever experienced at school and the novel may present some extremes.  The narration from both Renee and Flo’s perspectives was interesting although the two voices were not very distinctive . I frequently got lost as to what was happening to whom.

Inspiration for the novel came from the author’s teenage diary and there is a nostalgic and self-indulgent element to the novel that offers a strong appeal to readers who were teenage girls in the 1990s. I’d say it was aimed at these readers as well as young adults. If you're younger and haven't read Are You There God? It's Me, Margaret by Judy Blume, I'd probably start there first.

Paper Aeroplanes Hot Key Ring (by Hot Key Books)

 

Reviewed by M

Publication details: Hot Key Books, May 2013, London, paperback

This copy: uncorrected proof received for review from the publisher

 

We Need New Names - M's review

We Need New Names by NoViolet Bulawayo

Adult fiction review by M

 

This novel slipped its hands around my throat and the bruises won’t fade to pale that quickly.  I suspect it will never fully let go.

We Need New Names tackles the displacement that has become part of our contemporary global landscape.  Set just a few years back in post-2005 Zimbabwe, it is narrated by Darling, a 10 year old girl who lives in a Paradise shantytown shack and dreams of escaping to an American paradise.  The novel follows Darling and her friends until she is about fourteen (or fifteen) although there is a section that suggests it follows her for many years after that as the latter chapters follow a distinctly non-linear chronology. It seems appropriate to post this review during Refugee Week.

Wonderfully, this is a novel whipped with the complexities of African identities in a post-colonial and globalised world and its most compelling theme is that of contemporary displacement, a theme that will resonate with many readers. The formation of the informal settlements is the first displacement that takes place – in Darling’s life – and a few more follow. At some point the novel asks what is home and reminds us that when someone is talking about home we need to listen very carefully to hear which paradise they are actually talking about.  We Need New Names is not only about physical displacements of home, it is about lives, countries, systems falling apart until we don’t know which part of the broken Coca-Cola glass bottle we are. Where some books get under your skin, We Need New Names snakes right in and tugs at every essence.

Aside from displacement, We Need New Names will appeal to anyone interested in Zimbabwe. The novel deals with power and corrupt leadership, religious beliefs and customs, cultural mores, childhood values, land ownership, AIDS, race, language and the pains of self-imposed exile. It is a painful read with many disturbing scenes. Darling’s voice is occasionally reminiscent of Harrison in Stephen Kelman’s Pigeon English.

While this is up there with some of my favourite post-colonial African writing like The Beautyful Ones Are Not Yet Born (Ayi Kwei Armah) and Nervous Conditions (Tsitsi Dangarembga), intriguingly We Need New Names also reminded me of The Slap by Christos Tsiolkas (especially one chapter). Because the clause "things fall apart" repeatedly crops up in We Need New Names, I have also been prompted to start a re-read of Chinua Achebe’s Things Fall Apart (since writing this review but prior to its posting, I have finished the Achebe and highly recommend reading these two novels together. A parallel review of Things Fall Apart is coming up...).  Younger teen readers may like to read Now is the Time for Running (Michael Williams) which is a novel about similar issues around Zimbabwe and exile.

I’m very keen to see what NoViolet Bulawayo does next.

NoViolet Bulawayo left Zimbabwe when she was eighteen and now lives in the USA.

 

Some asides (may be a bit SPOILERY – but only a teeny bit):

• I don’t think Zimbabwe is ever named in the novel, nor is its political leader.
• Once again, dogs get a raw deal in this novel: ouch.
• Although quickly replaced, Darling is also permanently remembered: another ouch.
• Remember: oranges are definitely not the only fruit – there are guavas too.

 

Publication details: Chatto & Windus, June 2013, hardback

This copy: digital copy received for review from the publisher

 

 

 

 

 

If You Find Me - M's review

If You Find Me by Emily Murdoch

If You Find Me is a chilling but beautifully written story about two sisters, Carey and Jenessa, who have been brought up in a camper van in some rural Tennessee woods. They don’t know much about life anywhere else and they have hardly met any people in that time. They are backwoods. Now, they are being moved and must negotiate a potentially dangerous situation as well as learn to adapt and deal with their past and their futures. But from the first few pages, you know there is something else, something much bigger going on. If You Find Me is a dark story with a tone to match as it tells of child abuse and more. A compelling and challenging read.



If You Find Me by Emily Murdoch

The novel is told by Carey who is fifteen. She interweaves her current voice, her memories and woods voice, and her before-the-woods voice (yeah, can you find her in all of that and can she find herself?). This gives the reader clues about what happened in the woods, and before that time.  A bigger picture (as well as reader suspense) builds up slowly but, this novel is not a thriller. It doesn’t have that fast adrenalin pumping feel that thrillers tend to have. It’s much more dramatic and slower.  This doesn’t mean it’s a slow read. Quite the opposite. It’s a quick and compelling read. Wonderfully, it doesn’t leave you hanging until the end. Even though you might be able to fill in most of the details of Carey’s story before the end (some readers might not), you’re still hungering to find out all the nitty gritty bits. And the end, well it’s definitely thought-provoking. It ties the story up well but leaves just enough for you to wonder – and debate with other readers - about the reality (and ethics) of what happens next (or should or could).

There are two clear parts to the plot. The main plot is about Carey and Jenessa fitting into a new ‘civilised’ life. This new life has its own problems and a dangerous undercurrent runs through it. However, this plot also introduces the sorts of storyline and issues that appear in many teen novels – being put into new environments but feeling like you don’t fit. This part of the novel is warm and almost sugary, which is quite a contrast to the sub-plot which explores the terrible past. The story of the past (and possible future) is very sinister and full of trauma. Emily Murdoch deals with it sensitively but she doesn’t hold back much on detail either. Really, it’s all one plot but the novel’s structure shifts backwards and forwards in time so that it seems like two plots.

What surprised me is how much it reminded me of Amity & Sorrow by Peggy Riley, which is most definitely an adult novel. Both novels are dealing with controversial issues and explore a similar situation: two sisters have been deliberately secluded from the rest of the world. For me, this is the most interesting aspect in both novels. The problems and delights that people who have been abused deal with while experiencing social reintegration and self acceptance is a familiar theme. However, combining it with characters who are almost foreigners in the country that they have been living in is fascinating. It’s almost like a refugee story.

Overall, this felt like an adult novel. The themes, the details of implied and actual sexual abuse, the writing style and plot structure (multiple flipping from past to present within scenes), create that sense. The middle section of the book, however, introduces plot elements of school, making friends and dealing with being an outsider. My least favourite parts of the novel are introduced here (maybe I'm too old!). I’m not sure if I believe the whole story that surrounds Ryan. I also never really warmed to Delaney but that might have been the whole point about what her character has gone through too (Carey and Jenessa aren’t the only ones who’ve been affected by their past).

I really enjoyed If You Find Me and would recommend it to older teens. If You Find Me is dark and explicit but it is also hopeful and explores justice as a concept. Other novels suitable for young adult readers that explore questions of justice in a similar vein are Ketchup Clouds by Annabel Pitcher, To Kill A Mockingbird by Harper Lee and Friday Brown by Vikki Wakefield (forthcoming July 2013).

Publication details: 2 May 2013, Indigo, London, paperback

This copy: uncorrected proof received for review from the publisher

The Beadle - M's review

The Beadle by Pauline Smith

When Little M and I first started blogging about books, I found that all my recommendations were from my own childhood, teenagehood and even early university years. I also kept referring to some of these books as must-reads and using them as benchmarks. But, it’s been years since I’d read them and I really didn’t have any idea of whether or not they would still stack up.

Since reviewing, I started noticing things about my own reading habits, and the sorts of themes or aspects of a novel that I would pick out in comparison to Little M and other book bloggers. It really hit home that context and life-stage affect my reading experience (not much a revelation in theory but it is in practice).

Then I came across the Classics Club where you have to read at least fifty classics in five years (the definition of classics is left up to each individual reader). That’s what gave me the final push to rereading. My first re-read and my first read for the Classics Club is The Beadle by Pauline Smith.

But my review of it has a long, contextual story.

The Beadle by Pauline Smith

I first read The Beadle at high school and my comment was that it was okay. But The Beadle is one of the few school texts that left a positive imprint in my mind. I was intrigued by why my memory of it and my comment at the time of reading should differ so much.

 

However, The Beadle is out of print and buying a secondhand copy of it in the UK was rather too pricey. Lo and behold, what do I find on holiday in the middle of South Africa’s Klein Karoo (Little Karoo)? Dustcovers, a secondhand, collectibles and antique bookshop in the middle of the now trendy but still rural karoo town of Nieu Bethesda. Yes, there it was. A copy of The Beadle.

So the scene for my re-read has been perfectly set. I’ve just stayed in the middle of the karoo on a farm. I’ve bought the book in the karoo too. And of course, The Beadle is set in a little karoo valley.

Review

The Beadle is set in the very rural karoo when carts were still the main means of travel and when the role and standing of the church was paramount. It is a poignant and softly biting portrayal of coming-of-age in rural South Africa The story is about Andrina who lives with her aunts and the surly old beadle, Aalst Vlokman, on the Harmonie farmland. Her mother, Klaartje, ran away for home and died in childbirth, and there are all sorts of family secrets lurking in the background. Andrina is sweet and seventeen and she’s just about to join the church. And then an Englishman arrives at the farm.

Published in 1926, the language as well as the story are almost of a completely bygone time but it is still an easy but evocative read. Having read a little of Olive Schreiner’s The Story of An African Farm, the vocabulary and language use is similar.

The Beadle's story, on one level, is a very simple one about sin, moralities, taboos, betrayals, love and religion.

I remember feeling terribly sorry for some of the characters when I first read this book. The kind of feeling that must be empathy because how they must have felt gets right into the pit of your stomach and refuses to leave you. The effect of the story this time around wasn’t as intense – I’m older and wiser and the story is nothing new. Not like it would have been when I was a teenager.

Second time around, yes, I enjoyed The Beadle. For anyone interested in South African literature (or young adult literature from another time and place), I’d definitely recommend this. As a novel, it has been heavily negatively criticised since the 1970s by the likes of Nadine Gordimer and JM Coetzee for its portrayal of the rural Afrikaner and promoting the need for nationalist ideology in South Africa (and this critique may have been vital at that time in Sputh Africa's history). Pauline Smith may well do that, and if you’re looking for this, you’ll find it – the Englishman certainly doesn’t come off well. However, that’s not how I saw The Beadle at all (but I wasn’t especially looking for it).

 

For me, The Beadle, as it was on my first reading, is Andrina and Klaartje’s story. And theirs is a story that we still find today in all sorts of settings.

 

Publication details:First published 1926.

This edition: 1990, David Philip, Cape Town, paperback, my own

 

The Tragedy Paper - M's review

The Tragedy Paper by Elizabeth Laban

I loved the premise of this novel: an English teacher sets his final year students a project: a Tragedy Paper. But for some students, this takes on a much more sinister meaning.   The first page reads “Enter here to be and find a friend.” Immediately, the novel is filled with the same wondrous coming-of-age atmosphere as Dead Poet’s Society, a 1989 film which I loved - and I think The Tragedy Paper manages to sustain it (see trailer at end of post too).

It’s also a thrilling but thoughtful read: a combination that I like.

An atmosphere of trepidation filled suspense is created from the beginning with Duncan being worried about the treasure he will find in his new senior boarding school room, which room he will get, tackling his English tragedy paper and hoping that nobody will bring up what happened last year.  Added to these worries, there’s a girl.

The Tragedy Paper by Elizabeth Laban

Duncan ends up in a room whose previous resident was an albino called Tim (whose surname is a tragic irony). The narration moves between Duncan and Tim’s points of view and therefore moves back and forth in time too. The Tragedy Paper is a pageturner that is difficult to put down. It uses a similar suspense-building structure to Annabel Pitcher’s Ketchup Clouds. You know something not-so-great has happened. Slowly you begin to learn which characters may have been involved and you start putting together clues about what’s happened. There’s a love triangle of sorts too. And lessons to be learned.

While thrilling and enjoyable overall, for me the novel was a bit anti-climatic. Sometimes, I felt like it tried a little bit too hard.

The novel obviously explores the themes of tragedy (in both a literal and literary sense), but there is also friendship and romance. A highlight for me was that the plot beautifully captures and questions the ways social hierarchies can be created and sustained through cloak-and-dagger traditions.

Publication details: January 2013, Doubleday, London, hardback

This copy: received for review from the publisher


PS. I've included the Random House The Tragedy Paper trailer: I loved it and seeing as I watched it before I read the book, it formed an important part of my reading experience.

Red Ink - M's review

Red Ink by Julie Mayhew

I really liked the cover of Red Ink and I really liked the story. It’s grittier and more intriguing than its blurb (or even its first page), and I couldn’t put it down.



Red Ink by Julie Mayhew. Cover art & photos by Jet Purdie and Jan Bielicki

Fifteen year old Melon lived with her single mum who has been killed in an accident. Her mum’s boyfriend, Paul, has moved in as her ‘foster parent’. Melon has social workers and therapists all trying to help her through it all but of course, she finds this actually makes her feel worse. Melon is mostly angry at her mum, and while she is grieving, she’s trying to figure out why her beautiful, Greek immigrant mum landed her with such a ridiculous name: ‘Melon’ makes her the butt of all kinds of teasing at her London school. Her mum’s explanation had always been in the form of ‘The Story’ about how she had left Crete when she was a teenager. But Melon’s sick of hearing this story and wants a better explanation.


Red Ink is about Melon’s explorations and discoveries about herself, her mother and her family as she reconsiders ‘The Story’ and all the little traditions that were built into it. The more she finds, the more you want to know. The novel flips backwards and forwards in time and place, counting the days and months before and after Melon’s mum’s death. These chapters are also interspersed with ‘The Story’ as Melon begins to write it in a notebook.

It’s a coming-of-age tale, or as the publishers describe it, a rites of passage novel full of symbolism (like red ink itself is) where the characters, mostly Melon, move from separation, through transition and into re-incorporation. Julie Mayhew gives all of her characters depth and she’s not afraid to dig deep into their weaker points.

The writing in this novel is gorgeous and creates a great sense of place and character. Mayhew captures the little details in life beautifully: like why being on a bus is scarier than the London underground tube trains. But her writing is gripping at the same time  - and occasionally startles you with the odd crudity. In Red Ink, what’s below the surface really isn’t always smooth nor shiny.

Red Ink is a deliciously compelling read that had me eating sticky sweet baklavas and thinking about a holiday to Crete (haha – but perhaps not with Little M!).

Depending on your view and age, there are a couple of small (even big) rude or cringe-inducing scenes (but I guess that’s par for the course with many coming of age novels).  I’d say Red Ink is probably more suitable for older teens and adults. Some themes in the novel that stood out for me include family secrets, teen pregnancy, identity, grief and stereotyping. There are references to drugs and sex.

 Another very good and atmospheric coming-of-age novel that I’d recommend particularly (but not only) for younger teens/older tweens is Raspberries on the Yangtze by Karen Wallace.

Publication details: February 2013, Hot Key Books, London, hardback

This copy: received for review from the publisher

Cover design &  photos by Jet Purdie and Jan Bielicki

 

The Weight of Water - M's review

The Weight of Water by Sarah Crossan

 

The Weight of Water has been nominated for the 2013 Carnegie medal. It is a quick and enchanting read, and I really can’t recommend it highly enough. I read it a few weeks back, made some notes and now....I actually can't fault it. Amazing.

The Weight of Water tells a contemporary tale about twelve year old Kasienka. She travels with her mother from Poland to England. They are in search of her father and have little money. The unwinding story is a familiar bildungsroman of a twelve year old immigrant who is the new girl in school trying to understand and form her own identity. Within this story, the main plot with its heavy themes of bullying, loss and immigration are lightly buoyed  by the sweet-and-scary joys of pursuing  interests, love and the prospects of newfound  happiness.

What makes this story truly beautiful though, is the way it is told. The Weight of Water consists of a set of poems. Its form takes a poetic shape but uses narrative prose to great effect. At first, I was alarmed when I saw the unfamiliar shape of poetry lines in the pages of this novel rather than the familiar chunks of paragraphs. But, the writing has a beguiling rhythm which adds a simple but beautiful flow to what is an easy story to follow. It is an engrossing story that you’ll read easily in a single sitting. Or in little bits if that’s what you prefer.

The Weight of Water by Sarah Crossan

Here are some of my further thoughts about the book in relation to the Carnegie shadowing criteria that we're using:

My first impression of Kasienka was that she was a good girl who felt loved and loved her family – although she felt terrible that her dad had left them. She seemed like a pleasant child who tried hard and was content. The descriptions of Kasienka’s thoughts, looks, behaviour are all very plausible and aspects of them are likely to be familiar to most people, especially twelve year old but nearly thirteen year olds girls.

Many of the main characters change as the novel progresses. While the plot is important and strong, the main focus is on how the main characters in this novel, Kasienka and her mother, adapt to their changing environment and relationships in England.

Kasienka has important relationships with a number of adults and students at school. Some of these relationships are positive and supportive, others are more negative. Many of these relationships change.

Despite the poetry, the language (vocabulary and syntax) is straightforward. The story dives straight in with Kasienka and her mother leaving Poland with just an old suitcase and a laundry bag. From the first page, you know already that this change in their life is not going to be easy.

The Weight of Water is told from Kasienka’s point of view. There is very little dialogue with other characters but there is a lot of internal dialogue. There is also a lot of description which helps to fill in the details of the story and to create an atmosphere of passing time and change. However, Crossan does not linger on irrelevant detail and the story moves swiftly, flitting past that which is not integral to the main developments of the character and plot.

The main plot about Kasienka and her mother's move to England in search of her father is well-supported and enhanced by the interweaved sub-plots. For me, it is the sub-plot around developing personal identity which are the highlight of this story.

 

This book definitely stays with you after you have finished it. You know where you finish the last page and just sit staring......and wondering what happens next in the characters' lives? And then wish you could quickly find someone else who has read it so you can talk about it with them? Yes, it was like that for me.

This book would probably fit into a contemporary genre because it is set in current times and is realistic (but you might also find it on the poetry shelves).

I would recommend this novel to readers approximately 11+ and think that it could have a broad appeal to a variety of readers.

 

 

Publication details:

Bloomsbury, January 2012, London, hardback

 

This copy: received for Carnegie reviewing from the publisher