BLOOD FAMILY by Anne Fine Reviewed by Adèle Geras

WRITTEN ON AUGUST 28th.

I realize, reading through the review below that I might be taken to be saying: stay away from this book because it's too much in all kinds of ways. It wasn't my intention to say any such thing and indeed it ought to be required reading for anyone who has dealings with adoption services or who wants to understand the difficulties faced by many children. The picture of adoption that comes out of the book is a wonderful one, I think and very sensitively done. What I meant by 'hard to take' is that the book is written so well and at such a finely tuned emotional pitch that it will leave you thinking about it for a long time afterwards and you are not likely to forget it as you are many more trivial works where bloodletting and all kinds of horror are rife. Children who read it will see they are not alone and don't have to be...there are ways of surviving and being helped. Adults who read it will learn much that could prove most useful in their dealings with difficult adolescents....In short, a smashing book and one you should seek out!

Anne Fine has been writing books for children of all ages and for adults for a good many years and her work for readers of every age is marked by its elegance, its humour and its honesty. She also does a good line in spooky, as witness her book of last year, to which this novel is a companion piece, THE DEVIL WALKS. She is also, I have to confess, an old and good friend of mine. Quite a number of my best friends are writers and I'm afraid I can't help it if they're the kind of writer whose books I want to shout about. Am I biased? Well, maybe, but I have no qualms at all in promoting novels I think are good and which many people will enjoy.

"Enjoy" is not perhaps the word to use in the case of this book. It's very hard-hitting and readers of a delicate and easily-upset disposition would be well advised to steer clear of it. Parts of it are difficult to read. Parts of it are so eye-wateringly appalling that I can well imagine the odd person putting the book aside thinking: this is too much for me.

Eddie, four years old, lives with his mother and an abusive man and it's only thanks to the intervention of a nosy and kind neighbour that he is rescued and eventually both fostered and adopted. His foster and adoptive parents are lovely, but by then much damage has been done to Eddie and his mother has been so badly beaten that she can barely talk, much less relate to her son. Eddie, however, as he grows up, has problems of his own. He comes to think that maybe the abusive man who brutalised his mother is his own father and that maybe, as they say, blood is thicker than water and he is in danger of turning into the Beast he so fears and loathes. What he does is take to drink and Fine provides a clear and depressing picture of exactly what this can lead to.

The novel is told in the voices of its protagonists and everyone has a part in the narrative patchwork. This allows Fine to vary the tone and the inflection, and makes the book easier to read as well as moving it along at a cracking pace. You won't be able to put it down, once you begin it. The only person who is never heard is Eddie's mother and that's because she's been beaten to such degree that she can no longer speak or think in any coherent way. Her silence is the saddest thing in the whole novel.

Many people help Eddie along the way and Fine is very good at finding silver linings in the most impenetrable of clouds. There is a happy ending, but prepare to be soundly harrowed on the way there. Teenagers should read this book and so should their parents and carers. When real-life children like Eddie are not as fortunate as he is, our newspapers fill up with tragic stories like that of Daniel Pelka.

Perhaps not a book to recommend as an easy beach read, but one which will stay with you for a long time after you've closed it.

Published by: Doubleday Books in hardback Price: £12.99 ISBN: 9870857532404

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The Universe Versus Alex Woods by Gavin Extence

Reviewed by Jackie Marchant

This is classed as an adult book, yet, as I read it, I found myself wondering why.  It’s told from the point of view of 17 year old Alex, who has just been arrested while trying to enter the country at Dover with the remains of Mr Peterson plus some cannabis in his car.  He hasn’t improved his situation by ignoring officers banging on his door while playing loud music and then calmly informing them that he shouldn’t be driving.  Oh, and the fact that the whole country has been on the alert for him . . .

But Alex’s deadpan delivery of his story is both humourous and endearing as he goes back to when he was aged ten and struck by a meteor.  That led to a series of events, which culminated in the unlikely friendship that ended up with him brining Mr Peterson’s remains into the county.  We go with him through his fraught relationship with his unconventional mother, phantom father, school bullies and the tricky situations he finds himself in. 

So why isn’t this a teen book?  It could well be, but it is slightly long for that category and it takes us through several years of Alex’s life.  Also, he does at times seem to be recounting this from an older age and looking back.  But that aside, I think that teens would love this book if they thought to give it a try.  Perhaps there should be the reverse of the ‘cross-over’ genre, ie books that are written for adults, but are perfect for teens as well?  It’s a great book and would be a shame for teen readers to miss out.

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On A Beam Of Light by Jennifer Berne with pictures by Vladimir Radunsky. Review by Penny Dolan.

I’ve chosen this most remarkable book because it is a current favourite with two young girls, aged eight and four. This picture book is a biography, written in simple and poetic text  in parise of the power of simply thinking. 

But who's the hero?

The story opens like this:

“Over a hundred years ago, as the stars swirled, as the earth circled the sun, as the March winds blew through a little town by a river, a baby boy was born, His parents named him Albert.”

The illustrations, by Vladimir Radunsky, are rough child-like drawings - in chalks, ink and paint – on a variety of pale wrapping-paper brown pages, with arrows and words drawn in scratchily here and there.

The young hero, however is a rather unusual (and worrying to his parents) sort of child:

 “Albert turned one year old.

And didn’t say a word.

Albert turned two

And didn’t say a word,

And Albert turned three

And hardly said a word at all.”

 Why doesn’t young Albert talk? Because he is already busy spending his time wondering and thinking.

One day, Albert’s father gives him a compass. Albert studies it and:

“Suddenly he knew there were mysteries in the world, hidden and silent, unknown and unseen. He wanted more than anything to understand those mysteries.”

And this is when Albert starts to ask questions, and to read and study so that he can find the answers to all these many mysteries – about light and sound, about heat and magnetism, about gravity.

After university, Albert takes a job in a quiet government office, where people bring their inventions, but he does not stop learning. Albert studied and wrote, and sent his letters and papers and ideas out across the word. Eventually he was, and still is, recognised as a great thinker.

The book’s full title is “On A Beam of Light: A Story of Albert Einstein”

Einstein’s eccentricities are there in the book: his wild white hair, his love of ice-cream, how his violin playing helped him to think, his bicycle riding, and his belief that “his feet were happier without his socks.”

The pages illustrate the range of Albert’s interests: on one spread showing whirling comets, we read “He thought of very, very big things”.  

 Over the page, he is busy with a simple sailing boat. “He thought of very, very small things.” 

 Although people are shown as being amazed at Albert’s many ideas, there is no sense of our hero seeking celebrity or fame, and no mention of words like “genius” or “science” although that is implicit in the way the story unfolds. There is no earnest, off-putting mention of being clever or genius or being “stretched” or the need for “rigour” 

What the writer and illustrator capture are Albert Einstein’s sense of wonder, and his love of learning, although the book also includes a spread of additional information for anyone interested in further facts.

Page by page, this delightful book creates a wonderfully affirming story that praises wonder, and thought and the asking of questions. It shows Albert fascinated by the incredibly interesting world all around him – and what better message is there than that?

And as for that “Beam of Light” in the title? That’s the headlamp on Albert’s bicycle, the source of one of his greatest ideas. 

Originally published by Chronicle Books in America, and a Junior Literary Guild Selection, this hardback title is now available in the UK.

£10.99. ISBN 978 –0-8118-7235-5.

Note: The copy I borrowed to review was bought at the remarkable independent bookshop inside Salts Mill at Saltaire, near Bradford. Spread across one floor of the old mill, this shop has a most alluringly wide and attractive selection of books for adults and children. The photo below can be found on the author Saviour Pirotta's blog. So now you have three lovely things to look out for and enjoy - a book, a shop and a blog!

Penny Dolan

www.pennydolan.com

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Last Chance Angel, by Alex Gutteridge, reviewed by Pippa Goodhart

 

 

Alex Gutteridge’s ‘Last Chance Angel’ is a truly exceptional novel for children (particularly girls) of about ten to fifteen.

The premise of this novel is one which doesn’t feel as if it will make for a comfortable or a positive read, and yet the book emphatically manages to be both of those things.  Fourteen year old Jess is knocked off her bike, then lies in a hospital bed, in a coma, dying.  But a disorganised Angel of Death, Darren, gets the date of her death wrong, with the result that Jess is granted an extra few days in which to invisibly visit, and effectively, haunt her friends and family before her proper death day arrives. 

Those days of visiting friends and family could be morbid.  They could be sentimental.   They could be trite.  But they aren’t because of the sheer skill of plotting and character creation and writing employed.  A large cast of characters are wonderfully, movingly and humorously brought to life on the page.  Darren himself is a camp and rather spiteful jobs-worth of an angel, but even he becomes sympathetic by the end!  Jess gets insights into her group of friends, who, like her, are fallible.  She can help some, gain insights into others.  And the same is true of her imperfect, but very likeable, family.  The result is surprisingly profound, making for a compelling read as we come towards the end, and Jess is given a choice that makes us reel. 

Jess is given the ultimate moral personal dilemma.  Darren tells her that she can avoid death now, but only if she will sacrifice the once best friend who has since betrayed her.  Will Jess choose for Sarah to die so that she can live?  This is edge of the seat stuff, really exciting, but also moving and thought-provoking.   Brilliantly, the ending does surprise.

Alex Gutteridge has a rare gift for observing families and friendship, but also places, with a sure and kind eye that translates into beautiful writing.  Grounding the story with details of homes and cookery and gardening that bring it life on the page make the story all the more poignant.  This is also a love story of the very best kind.  Yes, there is a gentle boy/girl love theme, but love in so many other forms too … even love for wonderfully bracing Mrs Baxter the dreaded maths teacher! 

This is a story about understanding and forgiving, yourself as well as others.  It is, ultimately, a wonderfully hopeful story that leaves the reader a little different from the person they were when they began reading the book.  It is fresh and original, and would bear many re-readings.  Highly recommended.

 

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READING AND DYSLEXIA - A review of the use of e-readers by Cecilia Busby

A month ago, an eleven-year-old boy from our local secondary school won the CILIP Carnegie Shadowing Haiku competition ( http://www.alcs.co.uk/ALCS-News/June-2013/ALCS-News-Bulletin-June-2013/Carnegie-Winner-piece). This was his haiku:

In my possession
I have a word soup, jumbled
Into little grains

The poem is about the experience of dyslexia - apt, in a year in which the Carnegie was won by Sally Gardner, herself dyslexic, and her book, Maggot Moon, which features a main character unable to read or write. My review today relates to the same subject - its not about any one book, but about access to reading for those with dyslexia.

Sally Gardner deliberately wrote Maggot Moon with short chapters, because she could remember how frustrating it was as a child to be asked, "What chapter have you got to now?" and having to admit that she was still on the same one. It's a problem my daughter would identify with. At ten, she has not yet been diagnosed, but it's looking very much as if her reading problems are related to some form of dyslexia. When she saw James Cutler's haiku, above, she said: "That's exactly what it's like! Exactly what it feels like, looking at a page of words..." Izzy is ten, and while she loves books, her slow reading speed has made it very hard for her to access the kinds of books she would ideally like to read - the ones that engage her intellectually and emotionally. They take too long to read, the print is too small, the lines too close together. On the other hand, the books she could manage strike her generally as too simplistic, too dull, or too silly. So she tends to struggle through the longer books, but it's a painful process, and it's all too easy to give up.

Recently, however, we've discovered a device that has made a phenomenal difference to Izzy's ability to access the books she wants to read, and to successfully negotiate that 'word soup'. The device she uses is a Kindle Fire, but in fact most e-readers can perform the same functions - the key is the ability to increase font size, and the use of a text-to-voice application.  When we first got her a kindle, for its ability to increase font size, it did help her read books she otherwise found difficult - it cut down the number of times she mixed words up or skipped lines. But the biggest revelation - and one she discovered herself - was the 'voice' function. With headphones in, the rather robotic voice that 'reads' the displayed text confirmed for her what each word was as she read it. As she put it to me: "It's like using stabilisers on a bicycle." The voice supports her when she hits a word that would otherwise make her stumble, it keeps her going at a steady speed, and it allows her to 'read' at a pace that keeps the story flowing and exciting. At the moment, she's reading Gillian Cross's dystopian novel, After Tomorrow - and has amazed us and herself by how far she's got through it already.

At first, I was a little sceptical about her using the voice function - how could this monotonous voice enhance the imaginative side of reading? Was it even reading, really? But talking to her, and seeing the pleasure she's getting from the experience, has converted me. In many ways the monotone seems to act a little like the plain black-and-white words on the-page to a fast/automatic reader - just as such a reader turns that sterile code not into individual 'words' in their head but into a whole colourful scene of characters and events, so a dyslexic reader can take the monotone voice, alongside the words, and convert it into 'seen' action. In this sense it is very different to audio books (which my daughter also enjoys), and much more like the experience of 'normal' reading - with work and input required from your own individual imagination.

There are a number of text-to-voice applications for e-readers (a list is available here:
http://atcoalition.org/article/accessibility-and-e-readers) but they are mostly aimed at people with visual impairments. I've not seen them recommended for dyslexics before. I hope this review might encourage a few people to try the technology for their children - for Izzy, it's opened up a whole world of more technically difficult reads, and a hugely affirming level of personal control over her reading.



Cecilia Busby writes as C.J. Busby
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CAVEMEN STICKER BOOK by Paul Nicholls, Non Taylor and Fiona Watt. Reviewed by Ann Turnbull.

This Usborne activity book is the sort of thing I would have adored as a child.  It's perfect for quiet indoor moments during the holidays.

The book is a large paperback and consists of about a dozen scenes of Ice Age life - cave interiors, a mammoth hunt, a river with reindeer, etc. - all of them enticingly empty, ready for whatever the child wants to put into them.  In the middle of the book are pages and pages of stickers - "over 400 stickers", the cover proclaims - and they are fun.  I like the child hitting its thumb with a stone tool and wailing; the hunter going cross-eyed as he tries to mend his spear; the inquisitive baby; the mum fitting a new dress on her daughter.  There are some satisfyingly gruesome pictures of butchery, too, with blood splashing around.  There is a cave bear, and swimming deer (just back and head, no legs).  Children who like intricate things will enjoy the many very small stickers: tools, bowls of food, pigeons that can be perched on rocks or trees; even tiny beads and bones.

Scattered throughout the book is also a surprising amount of information, making it suitable for a wide age-range.  Little ones will want to talk about the animals, while older children will enjoy learning about the Ice Age and making up their own stories and pictures.  Highly recommended.



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CRUSADE, by Elizabeth Laird, and HALO, by Zizou Corder: reviewed by Sue Purkiss

I borrowed these two books from the library. The advantage of doing this is that you're selecting from an eclectic range of books, not just from recently published ones, and I had missed both these treats when they first came out. The disadvantage is that I had to take them back, so I don't have them in front of me to refer to - so apologies if there's a certain lack of detail in what follows!

Crusade is the first book by Elizabeth Laird that I've read. It features two boys, one a Christian from England, and one a Moslem from Acre. They are on opposite sides during one of Richard the Lionheart's crusades. At first, their stories alternate, but eventually they meet.

The book is a brilliant evocation of a distant time and place, with so much detail and so many vividly drawn characters - I particularly liked Dr Musa, the Jewish doctor: tetchy and immensely skilled, he has a heart as big as the planet, and Salim is fortunate indeed to be taken on by him as an apprentice. Given the subject matter, there is the opportunity for many contemporary resonances, and the author explores these thoroughly; through the character of Adam, we see how direct experience alters the way we perceive those we thought of as enemies. At the beginning of the book he has a simplistic attitude to the crusade, but by the end he is a far more tolerant and nuanced character, with a much deeper understanding of human nature and the effects of war - as is Salim, who grows immensely through the book.

Halo is set in ancient Greece, during the period of the wars between Athens and Sparta. Halo herself is a child brought up by centaurs, a kind, wise and gentle race. But circumstances force her to go on a journey which will eventually lead to her discovery of her true parentage. Along the way, she has all sorts of adventures with both Spartans and Athenians, meeting philosophers and warriors, finding herself in great danger but always bouncing out of it. This is another book with vivid, immensely likeable characters - and some nasty villains, too.

I don't know whether these would be categorised as middle-grade or YA; I found them both hugely enjoyable. Crusade is thought-provoking, Halo is enchanting. Both are beautifully written.


www.suepurkiss.com



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WE HAVE LIFT OFF, by Sean Taylor and Hannah Shaw. Reviewed by Saviour Pirotta

Title: WE HAVE LIFT OFF
Author: Sean Taylor
Illustrator: Hannah Shaw
Publisher: Frances Lincoln
Format: hardback/paperback
Publication year 2013.

Mr Tanner is a farmer with no conscience.  He pollutes the land and mistreats the farm animals something rotten. No wonder they all want to run away!  But where can they seek refuge? Someone suggests the moon.  Glowing brightly in the night sky, it looks like a peaceful place to bring up the kids and chicks.

The animals build a rocket but, before they can all climb in and take off, they have to launch a test flight. A chicken, a rabbit and a sheep all volunteer as test pilots - only to crash land back on the farm with their dreams of space travel in tatters.  It looks like the poor animals will never see the back of Mr Tanner after all.  Until the greedy farmer discovers their secret and decides to appropriate the  rocket.....

This is a zany, fun story that had the three little readers I tried it on hooting with laughter and joining in.  The text sparkles with naughtiness and the comic book drawings more than do it justice. I loved the bold primary colours and the quirky angles of beaks and noses.  The ending has a satisfying twist in the tail and, like all good pictures, leaves the reader wanting more.

There are two versions of the book, one in a big picture book format and a second which is part of the I Am Reading Series, created in consultation with literary expert Prue Goodwin.

A must for all bookshelves!


Review by Saviour Pirotta
website:  www.spirotta.com
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From the mixed-up files of Mrs. Basil E Frankweiler by E.L. Konigsburg reviewed by Lynda Waterhouse

A copy of this book literally fell into my hands whilst I was browsing in a bookshop. The title intrigued me and the opening sentence; Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old -fashioned kind of running away, lured me into the story. As soon as I returned home I read the novel in one sitting. I loved its quirky characters, its hilarious dialogue and surreal situation. It was first published in 1967 and in the following year it won the prestigious Newbery Medal.

Claudia Kincaid and her second youngest brother, Jamie are running away from home so they pack their pyjamas in their violin and trumpet cases and to take up residence in the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City. They dodge the guards and decide to spend the night in the rooms of fine French and English furniture. During this adventure something happens to them,

What happened to them was: they became a team, a family of two...Becoming a team didn’t mean the end of their arguments. But it did mean that the arguments became a part of the adventure, became discussions not threats

The novel is narrated by Mrs Basil E Frankweiler who is a cranky, witty and wealthy octogenarian who finds a kindred spirit in Claudia Kincaid. It is she who has sold (she doesn't like donating) the mysterious Angel statue to the museum.

Claudia is determined to unearth the secret of the statue and prove that it is by Michelangelo because if she makes this discovery she will know how to go back home, I, Claudia Kincaid, want to be different when I go back home. Like being a heroine is different.

My edition also contained a delightful afterword instead of a forward because ‘I myself never read forewords until after I have read the book, and then I read them only if I really liked the book and want to know more.’  I read the afterword and I'm sure you will too.

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PLUNGE INTO THE PIRATE POOL by Caryl Hart and Ed Eaves, reviewed by Tamsyn Murray

Young Albie gets home from a long day at school and no sooner has he settled down to read his book than Mum tells him it's time to go swimming. But this is no ordinary trip to the pool - when Albie dives down into the dark depths, he discovers the seaweed is hiding all kind of watery delights. Soon, he's hunting for treasure with Captain Cuttlefish and his crew in a shark-shaped submarine and whooshing around on a sea-scrambler.

Plunge Into The Pirate Pool is the fourth picture book offering from Caryl Hart and Ed Eaves to feature the adorable Albie and the fun just keeps on coming. Kids will love the colourful illustrations, full of piratical and undersea detail, and the text doesn't skimp on the action. Fans of Albie will be glad to see that he's making more new friends and exploring his fertile imagination in a new and exciting adventure. My little one certainly loves seeing the same character across the different books and the first book in the series, Supermarket Zoo, is a firm favourite in our house. I have no doubt that Plunge Into The Pirate Pool will soon become just as well thumbed and look forward to seeing what this pairing come up with next.

Aimed at 3+ years (although my 20 month old loves it)



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AESOP'S FABLES: Michael Rosen, with illustrations by Taleen Hacikyan, Review by Penny Dolan

Aesop’s Fables so often appear in guises and re-workings, but here, in this bold collection, one can see their importance as a literary form. Collected together, these stories show “how a fable works”. they introduce the child to purpose lying behind story, to truth within a fantasy setting, how animals can depict humans and how story – and real life - characters must be understood through action as well as speech. Such stories encourage the reader to listen well,  to think - and to learn that words can be tricky things.

Michael Rosen’s thirteen retellings are vivid and clear. They are not over-wacky "modern” versions, but the original tales retold with exactly the right mix of description and lively speech. 

Wisely, Rosen lets the tales talk for themselves. He writes so the fables read simply enough for a child to enjoy but the pieces are also perfectly voiced for reading aloud. With tales so short and neatly written, this feels like an ideal collection if you are encouraging storytelling work among children. 

Of, course, there's the essential moral at the foot of each story. These are told in a direct way that children  - and others - can understand: “Don’t get carried away when people tell you that you’re brilliant or beautiful. They maybe saying it just so they can get something from you.” As the cheeseless Crow now knows!

I did like holding this particular hardback collection. It is very satisfying when a book is a comfortable size to hold, especially when you are reading with or to children.  The layout is pleasing too. The font is elegant, there is space on the page and every illustration gets full attention. The spreads consist of one full-page picture and one story, set out page by page, which would also make the book work well on a stand or as part of a display too.

Taleen Hacikyan, the Canadian illustrator, has made the book both beautiful and rather unusual. Her leafy endpapers introduce the reader to the strange dark natural setting of Aesop’s tales. Within, Hacikyan's rich palette and dark backgrounds make striking, “ageless” pictures, ren=minding the reader that these fables are for far more than nurseries. The semi-primitive drawings have a dream-like quality, lightened by a sense of movement and humour. So the Cockerels are undeniably bright and cheery on their dark background, while the lean and hungry Fox yearns upwards towards a Bunch of Grapes so desirable that they almost fill the page. In the clever illustration of the Wolf and Lamb, conversing on the river bank, the reflection of the wolf already shows the lamb within its belly. “Moral: People who are out to get you will come up with all kinds of excuses for bringing you down. But at the end of the day, they’ll try and get you anyway.”

I don’t want to come over all Gove-alike here, believe me, but I do think that Aesop’s fables are a part of core cultural knowledge, whether heard or told or read. Vivian French and Korky Paul’s “Aesops Funky Fables” has long been a favourite version, particularly because of the clever wordplay, but  Rosen’s clear and beautiful Aesop’s Fables will certainly become part of my school & storytelling collection as well.

I rather wished there could have been a List of Contents although not having one does mean a reader might read the whole book, but there is a nice biography of Aesop at the back. There's also information about how this book was funded by the Canadian Council for the Arts and the British Columbia Arts Council. So nice to know such things happen somewhere, if not here . . .

To ned with, here’s a delightfully confident Mouse – as well as a flavour of Rosen’s confident telling.

Mouse was scampering to and fro, back and forth, fetch and carry: too busy to notice that he’d run over Lion’s tail. Lion woke up with a roar and seized Mouse in his great paw. He was just about to pop Mouse into his mouth, a tasty little nibble, when Mouse called out: “Don’t eat me, Lion. If you let me go, I promise I’ll do you a favour one day. Believe me, I will.”

Lion roared out laughing. “You? A little scrap of a thing? You couldn’t help a massive beast like me. Now off you go, you cheeky little critter, before I throw you down my throat.”

Good, eh?

AESOP’S FABLES. Michael Rosen, with illustrations by Taleen Hacikyan

Tradewinds Books. £9.95

Penny Dolan

www.pennydolan.com

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PHOENIX YARD BOOKS by Adèle Geras

Phoenix Yard Books is a new publishing house, and a winner of the IPG Award for Best Newcomer Publisher. Its speciality is books in translation. They have published some British writers, such as Geraldine McCaughrean and........... but in general their output is from abroad. They do bring out fiction for younger readers, such as the delightful ARTHUR series by Johanne Mercier, translated by the redoubtable Daniel Hahn, and are set to publish more in future, I believe. I'm concentrating on three picture books, because in this field and for those who are unfamiliar with illustration styles in other countries, their list is an education. To a British eye, even one trained up in graphic innovation by artists such as Lauren Child, the look is one of utmost sophistication and also subtle difference from our output in this field. The images in the three books highlighted below are beautiful. Whether they will suit children who are used to prettier, less edgy fare I'm not clear about, but I loved them and thought it worth while bringing the whole list to your attention.It should be said that one characteristic of these three books is that they are for really rather older children and their parents and not the very youngest readers. Phoenix Yard Books have a website, which is well worth a visit.

First up is MR.LEON'S PARIS by Barroux, who's responsible for both text and pictures. Sarah Ardizzone is the translator. The endpapers in themselves are marvels. The whole of the inside front cover is scribbled over with Parisian street names. If you had a magnifying glass and knew the city at all well, you could spend many happy hours looking for places you might recognize. There's not a scrap of white space anywhere to be seen. The inside back cover is a beautifully-drawn map of the city with the (real) streets Mr Leon visits highlighted in red. In between, Mr Leon takes strange people - the Devil, lovers, angels, ordinary mortals from all over the world - to appropriately-named streets. Henry the Handyman wants to go Hammer Yard and Jeanette the hairdresser lives in Scissor Row. The journeys might be real or maybe they're imaginary or symbolic or six of one and half a dozen of the other. What Barroux is saying is: Paris encompasses the whole universe, real and imaginary and there are many kinds of people in it, from every corner of the globe. The end of the book is enigmatic. Mr Leon stops driving his cab and sets off in a ship to Liberty Street and possibly the moon. His last passengers are angels. Does that mean he's dead? Or simply retired? It's not often a picture book can generate a philosophical discussion but this one will. Through the windows of the cab, as it drives through Paris, we get tantalizing glimpses of the streets. Just the thing, this book, for anyone older than about 8, setting out for a holiday in the French capital, who enjoys maps, magic and unusual journeys.

Next comes HAPPINESS IS A WATERMELON ON YOUR HEAD by Stella Dreis from Brazil. Daniel Hahn is the translator and he's done a grand job of expressing a mad, colourful, whirling dervish of a text. The pictures explode in colour and movement all through the pages and the cartoon-like people are outlandish, strange, and manage to be both beautiful and ugly at the same time: a winning combination. It's the style we're somewhat familiar with in certain advertisements on television,(Lloyd's Bank, eg) and they're either your thing or they're not but in this context, they work very well indeed. It's worth going to a well-known online books website to take advantage of the LOOK INSIDE facility in the case of all these books.

Then we have I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE A CHILD by Alain Serres and translated by Sarah Ardizzone.

This book is intended, say the publishers, to be a resource for discussion but it's a lot more than that. It outlines the rights of children and illustrates them most beautifully. Of all the books I've discussed, this is the one most likely to appeal visually to most people. The colours are rich, the illustrations have a touch of the Jane Rays about them and every spread is worth lingering over and looking at and thinking about. Amnesty International endorses the book's message, that of course children have rights and they must be upheld in every country. I think this book should be there on every school library shelf and in every possible home. It's a tremendous piece of work and congratulations to Phoenix Yard books for this and the rest of its chic, unusual and interesing output.

ALL THREE BOOKS: Published by Phoenix Yard Books in pbk.

MR LEON'S PARIS: £6.99

ISBN:9781907912085

HAPPINESS IS A WATERMELON ON YOUR HEAD: £6.99

ISBN:9781907912054

I HAVE THE RIGHT TO BE A CHILD: £7.99

ISBN:9781907912115

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Code Name Verity by Elizabeth Wein

Reviewed by Jackie Marchant

It’s the Second World War and a young SOE agent is about to make a written confession to the Gestapo, because she can’t bear the thought of another interrogation by SS-Hauptsturmfurher von Linden.  She has two weeks and then they will shoot her, but that is preferable to her fate if she does not confess.  She calls herself a coward.

But read on and you will see that she is anything but.  She is brave and clever in equal measure, running rings round her captors despite her predicament.  She uses her long confession as a tribute to her best friend Maddie, who lost her life trying to land the plane that secretly brought her to France.   At the same time, she manages to riddle her confession with code that will ensure that her mission will not fail.  She even works out a way to get her notes out there.

This book is about a strong female friendship, it is about plucky young women and their determined war effort and it is about triumph in the most difficult of circumstances.  It is both happy and sad,  with two strong main characters that have you cheering and crying in equal measure.  The scenes of cruelty at the hands of the Gestapo are handled with such sensitivity that the full horror comes over without the need for any graphic detail.  The relationship between Linden and Verity is so well drawn as Verity manages to creep under his skin and turn the tables on him, that you almost feel sorry for him.  Almost.   

Then there is betrayal, danger and plenty of action, as the resistance try and carry out their task without their key player.   All this makes Code Name Verity a book that will engage right from start to finish, quite deservedly earning its place on the Carnegie shortlist.   

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THE WALL, by William Sutcliffe: reviewed by Sue Purkiss

This novel is set in a town called Amarias, which is divided in half by a high wall. Joshua lives on one side with his mother and his hated stepfather, Liev. He has no notion of what life is like on the other side, until one day his friend kicks a precious football into a derelict building site, which is out of bounds to the public. Joshua decides to climb over the gates and retrieve the ball, and discovers a tunnel which is heading in the direction of the wall - and the other side. He knows what he should do, and he knows what every other boy in Amarias would do - they'd walk away. 'But as I see it, those are the two best reasons there could possibly be for doing the opposite.'

So that's exactly what he does. And that choice - to go through the tunnel - triggers a terrible chain of events. It's classic tragic hero stuff - his intentions are good; he does what he believes to be right, even though it would be easier to do the opposite. (Though he is also motivated by the desire to defy his stepfather.) But his actions bring misfortune and worse to himself and to the people he comes to admire and care about.

The book is published in two editions, one for adults and one for young adults. Sutcliffe explains why in an interview for Armadillo Magazine, which you can read here. The setting is actually the Israeli occupied West Bank, but this is not made explicit, and certainly to begin with, teenage readers might assume that the setting is a dystopian, post-apocalyptic one. I'm not sure if this is necessary. I think I'd rather it was nailed to a time and place - we all need to know more about the world we live in, and I don't think there's any need to blur the edges of the intent to do this.

I would have liked a bit more context, about the historical background which has created the present situation and about some of the characters. The people on Joshua's side of the wall - the Israeli side - are a little two-dimensional: Liev in particular: he's dreadful, but why? What's made him like that? The people on the other side are much more complex - and much nicer; it's a little too clear which side you're supposed to be on.

That said, this is a brave and powerful book. It's bleak: you long for everything to turn out all right, but in this flawed, horrendously difficult situation, you know that it's unlikely that it will. But there is a partial redemption, and a glimmer of hope that through goodwill and the meeting of minds, a solution will eventually be found.

The book is published by Bloomsbury, and the first image shows the YA cover. (Would you have known which was which? I had to look it up. I prefer the first one...)

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A Face Like Glass by Frances Hardinge, reviewed by Cecilia Busby

The heroine of Frances Hardinge's new book, A Face Like Glass, actually has quite a normal face - it's everyone else who is odd. Discovered in his cheese tunnels by the cantankerous old cheese master, Grandible, the child Neverfell has something no one else in the underground city-world of Caverna has: a face that displays its emotions quite naturally. When Grandible first finds her, half drowned after falling into his vat of Neverfell curds, he expects a Face - a 'learned expression' - to be pasted onto her otherwise immobile features, just at it would be with any other denizen of Caverna. "I wonder which Face it will be?" he thinks. "No. 29 - Uncomprehending Fawn before Hound? No. 64 - Violet Trembling in Sudden Shower?" But the truth is that Neverfell is an outsider - she had fallen down somehow into the underground world from 'up above', where the legend has it that the relentless sun shrivels you up and peels off your skin. And her face displays a bewildering array of emotions that you can see right through to her thoughts and feelings - hence a face like glass.

Hardinge's worlds are always wildly inventive and fantastically described, and her heroines have a wonderfully feisty ability to turn them upside down and inside out. Mosca Mye, in Hardinge's debut, Fly By Night, reminded me strongly of Dido Twite, and Hardinge's writing in general is reminiscent of Joan Aiken's - the same kind of adventurous romp, the great cast of secondary characters, the sense that you're never quite sure what disaster is going to happen next, but you know somehow the heroine will survive it in grand style. This one though, has to do a lot of work to carry the central conceit about Faces, and I found myself wondering what this idea had enabled Hardinge to do, and where it had hindered her.

In the acknowledgements for A Face Like Glass, Hardinge thanks her editors for letting her write a book "that sounds crazy even to me". It sounded crazy to me, too, and I have to admit, the premise very slightly put me off reading this one, even though I'd really enjoyed Hardinge's previous books. When I did read it, I found myself utterly gripped by the story, the writing, and the characters, and yet not totally convinced by the logic of the world she'd developed.

The inhabitants of Caverna display no emotions on their faces, yet they crave the ability to display them, and pay large sums to learn new expressions from Facesmiths, who teach them the appropriate facial positions for, say 'Contemplation of Verdigris' or 'An apprehension of Apple Boughs', as well as more complex emotions such as 'World Weary with a Hint of Sadness and a Core of Basic Integrity'.  They can choose appropriate Faces to let others know what they are feeling, or to influence them - what they cannot do is ever be sure the Face another person is displaying has anything to do with their true emotions.

This set-up works in numerous ways to enhance the book. It really allows Hardinge to have fun with the social structure of Caverna: the richer you are, the more Faces you can afford, while the drudges - the poor, the servants - have only one Face, of respectfully waiting for orders, or at the most, can add an extra eager-to-please smile. It doesn't matter how angry, upset, resentful, hungry or sad they feel, they can only ever offer their masters a Face of respect and readiness for work. Meanwhile, the rich at court play endless games of power - using their Faces to display their wealth and power, to influence others or to indicate particularly chosen emotions in the same way that an expert card player uses his aces and trumps to dominate the game.

Neverfell has the useful role of the innocent, who naively trusts everyone - who takes them completely at face value, and cannot see the hidden calculations going on behind the Faces. Much as a young child gradually learns to discern false emotions from true ones, Neverfell gradually learns to see the signs that all is not as it seems - people's deeds, in the end, don't match their Faces. But in turn, her innocent, puppyish friendliness and trust disturbs the careful balance of suspicion and mistrust that fuels these political games - and one of my favourite characters is actually the very political young aristocrat, Zouelle Childersin, who is most affected by Neverfell's blundering appearance in the middle of her plots.

Despite the ways the Faces conceit fuels the plot and the wonderful strangeness of this world, I still felt slightly unconvinced by the central idea. Wouldn't the inhabitants of Caverna have learnt to judge people by voice and body language, rather than these paid-for Faces? In which case, the faces would have become redundant - mere toys, soon discarded. Wouldn't the drudges have expressed their emotions by voice and word, or by gesture, rather than taking their fellow drudge's Face of acquiescence as some kind of real expression of their acceptance, which Hardinge suggests has prevented the spread of resistance or revolution? Why did the inhabitants even value or attempt to learn Faces linked to emotions, when there was effectively no one who displayed real emotions via their face in that world? The outsiders, who did so, were traded with but generally kept at very long arm's length. No matter how much I tried, I couldn't really see this particular aspect of the world Hardinge has created as anything but implausible, and yet without it, much of the driving force of the book is lost.

However, in the end, I was prepared to put aside my doubts about the Faces, and just enjoy the exuberant invention that makes the book such a delight - who could resist the 500-year-old ruler of Caverna, who only lets half of his mind sleep at a time, and rules non-stop as either Left -Eye (non-verbal, intuitive, slightly random) or Right-Eye (verbal, logical, scrupulously organised). Or the idea of a cheese that, if not turned and fed in exactly the right way, will explode with the force of dynamite. Or the Cartographers, the map-makers of Caverna, to whom you can only speak for a limit of five minutes before they twist your mind into the same warped madness as their own.

Read it - see what you think for yourselves. It's a romp.



Cecilia Busby is the author (as C.J. Busby) of Frogspell, Cauldron Spells, Icespell and Sword Spell (Templar).

www.frogspell.co.uk



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SMUGGLER'S KISS by Marie-Louise Jensen. Reviewed by Ann Turnbull.

A runaway teenage girl, smugglers, romance, humour and secrets - Marie-Louise Jensen's latest novel has them all.  Her story is set around the windswept coastline of Dorset, which she describes so well that the narrative seems borne along on the movement of wind and waves.

The story begins in 1720, when fifteen-year-old Isabelle tries to drown herself and is rescued by the crew of a smugglers' ship, The Invisible.  The smugglers are forced to keep her on board for fear of being betrayed to the Revenue men.  But Isabelle is a lady, accustomed to being looked after by servants.  Spoilt and arrogant, she infuriates nearly everyone - and in particular Will, a mysterious young man who has the bearing of a gentleman, yet dresses like the other rough men and is clearly a key member of the crew.  Gradually Isabelle grows stronger and more self-reliant as Will and the captain involve her in helping with their dangerous trade; and she develops more sympathy for the harsh lives of the men, who turn to smuggling in the winter season to keep their families from starvation.  She also discovers a kinder side to Will - but their burgeoning romance still involves plenty of sparring.

The story is full of social detail from the 18th Century.  Cross-dressing girls are common in fiction, but few are as shocked and ashamed as Isabelle when she's obliged to wear men's breeches - not only used and unwashed, but in a working-man's style far below her social station.  Realistic, too, is Will's response to being 'winged' by a bullet while escaping from the Revenue officers.  Like all heroes, he says it's "only a nick" - but he bleeds heavily, turns faint, and has to lie low for a day to recover.

The secrets carried by Will and Isabelle reveal the unsavoury side of Georgian high society, in which rich men might be venturers in the contraband trade and women were chattels.  Although it touches on some very dark issues, there is nothing unsuitable here for readers of eleven or twelve upwards, and the romance is exciting but chaste.

The gradual revelation of secrets, combined with the smuggling drama, made me unwilling to put this story down, and nothing much got done around the house until I'd finished it.

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Sleuth On Skates by Clementine Beauvais, illustrated by Sarah Horne, reviewed by Pippa Goodhart

This is an absolute treat of a book! 

Even before you read a word of text, the physical book is a pleasure.  It has a cover that feels velvety soft, and glints in places.  That cover has tucked-in ends as if it was a wrap-around.  Inside are full-colour decorated end-papers.  It is bright and enticing, with quotes from real child readers rather than the usual suspect rent-a-quote other authors.  The text is printed in a particularly pleasing font, and it is all lavishly illustrated with funny Sarah Horne pictures.  The whole book looks and feels fresh and special … which is just right because what you find inside that cover IS fresh and special.

I read quite a lot of ‘funny’ children’s books, and can often get right through such books without a single outward chuckle, and hardly a mouth twitch towards a smile, even when I can appreciate that funny things are being portrayed.  This book genuinely had me laughing out loud, and annoying my family by reading bits out to them when they were trying to concentrate on other things.  The result is a queue of family members now wanting to get their hands on the book. 

 What’s so funny?  Genuine clever wit and observation is what’s so funny. 

Sophie Margaret Catriona Seade (better known as Sesame) suffers from having a professor Master of Christ’s College Cambridge for her mother, and the college chaplain for her father.  Those parents might be clever, but so too is our Sesame.  She tells her own tale of daring sleuthing discovery of dastardly deeds in her own, inimitable, fresh and observant voice.  She says things such as –

‘I try not to get too attached to them (students) because, like rabbits, they only last three or four years and then they’re gone.’

‘…I had to flatten myself like a plaice against the wall…’

‘On the banks of the river, the grass grew thick and tangled, and croaked ‘ribbit ribbit’ when the glistening ripples of water reached it.’

The story revolves around a mysteriously missing student who should have been performing in Swan Lake.  “What part?” asks Sesame’s friend.

“The Lead.  I don’t know the story, so I’m assuming it’s either the swan or the lake.”

When Sesame, who hates anything tutu-related, has to sit through the whole balletic performance, she takes her seat and... 'quickly went into power-saving mode…’

I mustn’t go on quoting bits that particularly tickled me, or struck me as true, because we could be here all day.  What I want to convey is quite what an excitingly fresh storytelling voice Clementine Beauvais has.   This is a cracking good story too, full of excitements and surprises, and very nearly believable. 

As somebody who grew-up with a professor father based at Jesus College in Cambridge, and a mother who had been a college secretary, and who now lives in the village where the missing girl in the story is found, I particularly enjoyed the Cambridgeness of the book, even if the geography is played with a bit.  I hope that Clementine Beauvais gets free blueberry cheesecake in Auntie’s Tea Shop from now on!  And I am quite sure that her ‘Maman cherie’ to whom the book is dedicated is, rightly, extremely proud. 

Hats off to Clementine, to Sarah Horne, and to Hodder for producing an exceptional book for children …. and I see that a second book in the series is coming out in October.  This book has my vote to be winner of the next Roald Dahl Funny Prize.

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Bedsit Disco Queen by Tracey Thorn reviewed by Lynda Waterhouse

‘If you like those kinds of stories, stories where the lead characters seem to blunder through life, much as you do through your own, then you might like this one.’

I loved this biography of how Tracey Thorn grew up and tried to be a pop star. It is a self-effacing, funny and moving description of the music business from the 1980’s onwards.

Reading Tracey’s account of her life  took me straight back to my own student days in 1980’s with my big hair, flowery Oxfam dress (vintage didn’t exist then) and my precious ‘I get no love’ Buzzocks badge.

Tracey describes her experiences as a 16 year old joining a band and then forming her own all-girl band , The Marine Girls. We follow Tracey to Hull University where she meets up with Ben Watt and together they form the band Everything But The Girl and their lives change.

Each chapter is rounded off with the lyrics of one of Tracey’s songs from that period.

Tracey’s experience of pop stardom is full of high and lows. The book is also about the relationship between Ben and Tracey and how it is affected by the pressures of fame, by Ben’s illness and by having children.

Tracey does not tell us everything. It is a thoughtful account and she is a great role model for women who want to create music on their own terms.

Bedsit Disco Queen is published by Virago

ISBN 978-1-844088669

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Eleanor's Eyebrows by Timothy Knapman and David Tazzyman, Reviewed by Tamsyn Murray

I'll be honest, I didn't intend to review Eleanor's Eyebrows at all today. But from the moment I saw the cover, complete with some of the most amazing eyebrows I've ever seen, I was sold.

The eponymous Eleanor knows what all the parts of her face are for. But her eyebrows bother her - they're just 'silly, scruffy, hairy, little bits of fluff'. Affronted by her lack of faith in their abilities, the eyebrows high-tail it off into the world, where they try out various new and often dangerous careers.

Eleanor, meanwhile, has realised that a face isn't quite the same without eyebrows and starts noticing them everywhere. She tries a range of hilarious replacements before deciding that she might have been a little hasty in dismissing her little bits of fluff and launches a campaign to bring them back.

Timothy Knapman's text is delightfully silly and even without the pictures, I could imagine Eleanor re-drawing her eyebrows. The story is cute and funny and skillfully weaves in a message about accepting yourself (and your eyebrows) for who you are. David Tazzyman's illustrations are everything you'd expect from the man responsible for bringing us the face of Mr Gum and they made me giggle just as much as the text.

Eleanor's Eyebrows has something for everyone because, as I commented on Twitter the other day, who hasn't fallen out with their eyebrows at some point? Just make sure you keep the Sharpies out of reach of small children once you've read it to them.

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Vampire Dawn by Anne Rooney: reviewed by Gillian Philip

Real Vampires - as the ageless Spike would tell you in many a fetching internet meme - Don't Sparkle. Anne Rooney's don't, that's for sure. Nor do they disappoint.

icanhascheezburger.com

The Vampire Dawn saga is a cleverly constructed series of short novels in the hi-lo style, ideal for the reluctant reader but no small fun for the enthusiastic one, either. The stories are compact and bijou - ideal for devouring on a bus journey to school, say - but packed with incident and character, not to mention blood and guts. If you know a teen or a slightly-pre-teen who isn't particularly keen on romance but likes a decent bloodsucker, point them in the direction of Vampire Dawn.

The books are readable in any order, but it would undoubtedly help to start with Die Now Or Live Forever. The whole story begins here - in the fine tradition of horror movies, with a group of mildly bickering friends on a hike in the woods. In this case it's the Hungarian woods, which seem to be populated by especially big and Hungary mosquitoes (boom boom).

This is the lonely spot where Juliette, Omar, Finn, Ruby and Alistair stumble across a dead body that doesn't stay dead for long. They also run into the (temporary) murderer: a downright panicky Australian called Ava, who doesn't understand why she's just had to stick a tent peg through the heart of her beloved boyfriend.

And in the morning the appeal of sandwiches and ginger beer seems mysteriously to fade, and the group begins to look peckishly upon the bewildered Ava...

knowyourmeme.com

The other books in the Vampire Dawn series focus on each individual member of the group, and what happens to them in the aftermath of their ill-fated camping trip: Juliette (Drop Dead, Gorgeous), Finn (Life Sucks), Omar (Every Drop Of Your Blood), Alistair and Ruby (Dead On Arrival) and Ava herself (In Cold Blood). Pretty much at random I chose Ava's story: some time after the events of Die Now Or Live Forever, the bewildered Australian girl is stumbling around Kosovo in a borrowed fur coat, with no memory of how she got there. All she knows is that she's hungry, and that she doesn't feel as jittery around a creepy and dilapidated circus as she normally would. In fact it could be a source of raw meat of several kinds...

Given the tightly restricted word count of each book (around 6,000?), the various characters and their relationships are briskly and efficiently drawn. Alistair, my particular favourite, is an OCD boy who likes to count things.

bbc.co.uk

For the teen who's especially keen on traditional vampires, there's even a guide book: Bloodsucking For Beginners. Like the mysterious Ignace, a handsome stranger who seems to have strolled into the group's lives out of a 1930s black-and-white horror movie, it's full of advice for perplexed immortal newbies...

These books are terrific fun, and they're a great, snappy read. I adore the device of giving a book to every character, and Anne Rooney (who apparently doesn't eat meat in case she gets too much of a taste for blood) has clearly had a lot of fun with the genre's tropes and traditions. Yet she never loses respect for the primal, terrifying ferocity of vampires. There's romance and teen angst here, and the delights and agonies of friendship, but there's plenty of blood too - just as there should be.

I can't imagine many teens who wouldn't love a brief trip to the world of Vampire Dawn. I had a great time. (Also, the covers are fabulous.)


Die Now Or Live Forever
Dead on Arrival
Life Sucks
Every Drop Of Your Blood
Drop Dead, Gorgeous
In Cold Blood
Bloodsucking For Beginners

By Anne Rooney; published by Ransom Publishing, April 2012

I mean, that guy's scary. He just IS.

www. gillianphilip.com

growingguides.com

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