Book Buds Kidlit Reviews

What Gods Do After They Fall

Runemarks
By Joanne Harris
Random House

Reviewed by Brett Levy

In a refreshing change of scenery, author Joanne Harris avoids the rutted road of Anglo fantasy and instead builds her characters around fallen Norse Gods trying to get by 500 years after their fall from grace.

More than just along for the ride is Maddy, who was born with an odd Rune on her hand. Shunned by her parents and small village, Maddy eventually discovers the meaning and power behind her birthmark with the help of a less-than-friendly man named One Eye and Loki, the Trickster.

While Maddy might be a symbol for hope to the Ancient Gods, the mysterious Order and its powerful “Word” is something else entirely. Our heroes must discover the intentions behind who or what is running the Order, which has banned dreaming and magic.

Equally refreshing: Maddy’s adventures reveal a strong female protagonist who has a smart head on her shoulders to boot. No silly Lara Croft stereotypes here.

My only beefs: it can be challenging at times to keep the Norse figures and Runes straight, and it is somewhat disconcerting how Maddy’s importance seems to diminish during the final moments of conflict.

Regardless, Runemarks restores some originality to magical worlds by transforming old stories into new.

POETRY FRIDAY Animal Poems by Valerie Worth

Animal Poems
Written by Valerie Worth; illustrated by Steve Jenkins
Farrar, Strauss & Giroux

reviewed by Ilene Goldman

The multimedia porcupine on the front of Animal Poems is actually cuddly-looking, inviting the reader into this collection of poetry with his direct gaze and slight smile.  Each illustration begs us to turn the page to find the collage Jenkins has concocted for the next poem. A penguin with pitch black feathers waddles on homemade ice-paper; an elephant whose wrinkled skin looks like crumpled, ironed paper trundles across a page; and a fuzzy-legged spider weaves her delicate web.  You’ll look again and again.

The late Valerie Worth’s poems are as deep and resonant as the images, but not as fanciful. This is a collection of free verse, not rhyming poetry; Worth's words evoke the essence of each animal without anthropomorphizing or imparting endearing traits.

We understand the dichotomy between a bear’s sweet looks and fearsome personality: “The bear’s fur / Is gentle but / His eye is not: / It burns our /Way, while / He walks right /” We hear right away that the bear on this page is not our teddy bear, not cuddly, not the bear of countless toddlers’ tales.  We feel the snake slithering,  “Loosed / From / Limbs to / Run like / Water, /”. And we want to fly with the wren “As though a stray / Leaf, fluttering over / The Grass…”

I generally indulge in picture books for the littlest reader, my 2-year old daughter, and I’ve often wondered how a picture book for older readers might fulfill educational needs and yet not feel like it is babying the reader.  Animal Poems answered my questions.  Free verse lacks the meter or rhyme of other kinds of poetry, achieving its lyricism in precise word choice and cadenced word flow.  For a middle school reader, it is hard to access precisely because it is so different from the understood paradigm.  Combined with Jenkins’ unique illustrations, Worth’s sparse yet suggestive poems more than speak for themselves.

I had some minor qualms which may reveal my shallow understanding of the classification of the animal world:  Are snail and spiders animals or insects?  Ultimately, I suppose it doesn’t matter: All Charlotte wants to do is look at the bear and the bat. I think she’ll be trying to make cut-paper collages any minute now!

Rating: *\*\*\

This book was a Cybils finalist. Check the full list here.

It’s good to be bad

Evil Genius
by Catherine Jinks
Harcourt Children's Books

Reviewed by Brett Levy

Evil Genius is a better-than-usual attempt at capitalizing on the Harry Potter phenomenon. In this version, Cadel Piggott, who is being raised by nasty, uncaring parents, is directed toward the Axis Institute, a school for criminals seeking world domination.

Cadel hopes to find acceptance at his new school, but intrigues – such as the rapidly declining student body – test the boy’s super talents. Along the way, Cadel learns about his father’s evil plans, a little humility and more importantly, about his true nature.

While the discovery process is fun, creative characters and complex subplots blow by without much clarity; it’s a wonder an adult, much less young adult, can follow without a scorecard. Worse, it’s hard to really like and identify with any characters in this 496-page book. Still, I can’t help suspect that Evil Genius will be enjoyed by bored, smart teenagers who dream of running the world.

Rating: *\*\

POETRY FRIDAY Checkmate on trouble

Chess Rumble
by G. Neri; illustrated by Jesse Joshua Watson

Lee & Low Books

Is this a poem or a story or a dramatic monologue? I love genre benders, and this gripping, dark look at an urban African-American kid's anger and confusion defies pigeonholing. It's nominated under Middle Grade novels for a Cybils award, where I'm hoping it doesn't get buried by more traditional fare.

The 11-year-old narrator, who goes by Hulk or Fattie, depending on whether you're friend or foe, wields free verse like a blunt stick, now tapping out a rhythm, now beating us freely with rapid images, impressions and raw action from his damaged life. This is one kid on the edge, and the abyss is a single misstep away.

I wanna say
I'm not a angry guy,
that I'm not the one
she gotta worry 'bout.
But I can see
in the way she look at me
that she don't believe
I will turn it around.

When an exasperated teacher sends him to the library, he encounters the mysterious CM, a tattooed warrior who wields a mean chess board. Average game: three moves. When he challenges Hulk to beat him, we sense a temblor building beneath the boy's fragile fault lines.

Where it leads and how we get there is for you to discover. It reads quickly, but this is one story that lingers long after the covers are closed.

Rating: *\*\*\*\

Getting all Medieval on us

Good Masters! Sweet Ladies!
Voices from a Medieval Village

by Laura Amy Schlitz; illustrated by Robert Byrd

Candlewick Press

Why I didn't order this at first: wrong age group. Too mature for my wee 'uns. Then came a flurry of emails from my colleagues at the Cybils contest: was this non-fiction or fiction? Was it poetry? Middle-grade or young adult?

Nobody knew quite where to put these 19 lyrical monologues of children's voices from the thirteenth century. Schlitz -- last year's Cybils winner in the Middle-Grade fiction genre -- had stumped some of the smartest bloggers in kidlit land.

I developed a serious jones for this genre bender and Candlewick obliged. From the cover illustration on, the tweens and teens who inhabit this fictional village have taken up residence in my imagination, where they continue to flirt and jostle, scrounge out a living, sin and repent and hunger and triumph. I imagine their beatings, their wasted frames and matted hair and share their hard-scrabble existence through 81 brief pages, with smatterings of discreetly placed background notes.

Schlitz wrote this for students at a private school in Baltimore, where she's a librarian and historian. When she offered to write a play that truly depicted life in the Middle Ages, nobody wanted a minor part. She created 21 scenes, all but two of them for a single actor, and most of them in verse. As the characters speak, they offer an unflinching view of their poverty, their superstitions and prejudices and the limited scope of their ambitions.

And, like any kids, they're brightly optimistic, cheerful in their adversity, and full of imagination and daring.

We meet the Lord of the Manor's nephew, who risks his life in a boar hunt; a glassblower's apprentice determined to get it right; a shepherdess struggling to save her "sister" sheep, and many other charming, disarming and (mostly) guileless kids struggling to figure out their place in the local pecking order and how to bridge those awkward years until adulthood.

Even with so many disparate voices, there are no discordant notes. Village life emerges with its rhythms, its simplicity, and narrative threads that weave all the characters into a cohesive whole. Byrd helpfully illustrates with scenes that could've come from a Book of Hours; his approximation of Medieval illuminations are so close that I forgot I'd already seen his name on the cover and searched the extensive bibliography for the pictures' source.

Although the scenes are meant to be performed or at least read aloud by 10-15 year olds, this can also be read silently by one very absorbed kid -- or, ahem, grown-up.

Rating: *\*\*\*\