Tuesday, 5 May 2015

Head Over Heart, by Colette Victor, reviewed by Pippa Goodhart


 
 
This story is about a teenage girl caught between cultures.  Should Zeyneb abide by the Muslim standards taught by her parents, meaning never developing a romantic relationship with a boy until she’s married?  Or should she go on the barbeque and funfair and cinema outings with school friends, knowing that Alex who fancies her will be there?  She’s just begun her periods, so there’s pressure from home to put on a hijab and play the part of an unmarried Muslim woman.  On the other hand, none of her friends wear headscarves, and some are wary of those who do.  And Alex isn’t just good looking; he’s kind and understanding too.  Zeyneb is torn between fitting in and pleasing those she loves on either side of that divide, as well as being her own individual person.

This is a very accessible read, told in the first person and full of dialogue.  It’s interesting and romantic and touching, and, goodness me, it’s a story about a teenage girl falling in love but has a beautiful cover that is NOT pink (well done, Chicken House)!  I would have liked to learn a bit more about quite what Zeyneb’s faith is when she decides that she ‘wants to show her faith’, but maybe that would have made for a heavier sort of read. 

There aren’t enough stories which tackle cultural issues of an everyday kind.  Here we have a very likeable girl and her funny nice Turkish background family (her relationship with her father is particularly touching), living the decisions that many of our girls have to face.  And the message is positive.  Choices you make don’t have to be forever.  Try one way, and then change if that doesn’t work happily.  And it’s possible to compromise.  Zeyneb decides that, after all, she will choose to wear the headscarf (for now), but she’s also very determined to become the first person in her family to go to university, to study botany, a passion shared with her allotment-loving gentle father. 

This is a book which should be in all secondary school libraries.

 

 


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Monday, 27 April 2015

Joe All Alone by Joanna Nadin reviewed by Rhian Ivory

 
 

Synopsis


No parents, no rules...No problem?
When 13-year-old Joe is left behind in Peckham while his mum flies to Spain on holiday, he decides to treat it as an adventure, and a welcome break from Dean, her latest boyfriend. Joe begins to explore his neighbourhood, making a tentative friendship with Asha, a fellow fugitive hiding out at her grandfathers’ flat. But the then food and money run out, his mum doesn’t come home, and the local thugs catch up with him. Joe realises time is running out too, and makes a decision that will change his life forever...
 
Publishing date: May 2015
Cover designer: Helen Crawford-White http://studiohelen.co.uk/
 

Review

Warning - not only will you need tissues when you read this book but you’ll also need to hug someone repeatedly and be hugged yourself. And you’re going to want to talk about it and possibly miss meals. Don’t say I didn’t warn you!
 
As you can guess from the title Joe, the protagonist is indeed going to spend most of the novel alone. Jo Nadin dispenses with the adults very early on in this novel and at first Joe and the reader are both delighted, this is going to be epic! Joe can play on his Xbox all day, watch as much TV as he likes and even eat mars bars for breakfast because there isn’t anyone to stop him but the novelty soon wears off and the loneliness and uncertainty of being entirely alone set in.  Joe is a likeable character in an undesirable setting; his environment is fully realised and brought to life by vivid descriptions so that parts of the novel feel quite filmic in quality. At times I felt as if I were watching the reality show of Joe’s life but without the glamour, glitz and frighteningly applied fake tans, well there are some fake tans but you get the idea.
The story is neatly divided up into days charting Joe’s week of adventure and independence once his mum and her boyfriend, Dean have departed for Spain. But the promise of adventure is soon marred by the reality of almost empty cupboards, the electricity card eating up his last penny and the lack of any family to turn to as the fridge reveals only one last meal – left over lamb curry. Joe thinks about the budgeting lessons he’s had at school and at first deals with his predicament in an impressive fashion but as he so rightly says what they don’t teach you at school is what to do when the money runs out.
Joe’s situation is pitiful and painful until he bumps into the girl across the hall and then (thank goodness because I was getting really worried about him) everything changes but in the most believable and satisfying manner. When Joe meets Asha he finally has someone to talk to and have a laugh with and once he trusts her enough he shares the secret he’s been keeping about what Dean has hidden in the flat. But Asha is more than just a confidant, she’s someone for Joe to impress and the scenes following Joe’s attempt at a makeover are really funny and make you love Joe all the more.
The novel ends in a real adventure, high stakes chases, risk, excitement, tension and fear but most importantly of all HOPE.
 
 
About the author

Joanna is the author of more than 30 books for children and young people, including the best-selling Rachel Riley series for teens and the award-winning Penny Dreadful series for younger readers. She has been shortlisted for the Roald Dahl Funny Prize, thrice shortlisted for Queen of Teen, while Spies, Dad, Big Lauren and Me (9+) was a Richard and Judy Book Club pick. She is a former broadcast journalist and Special Adviser to the Prime Minister, and also freelances as a speechwriter.
You can follow Jo on twitter - @joannanadin   




About the reviewer
Rhian Ivory has written 4 novels published by Bloomsbury under her
maiden name Rhian Tracey including The Bad Girls Club. Her new novel The Boy who drew the Future comes out this September published by FireFly Press - Firefly Press
You can follow Rhian on twitter - @Rhian_Ivory
The Boy who drew the Future - Pinterest
 
 


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Friday, 24 April 2015

CAITLIN MORAN'S LATEST COLUMN - An alert and a review by Penny Dolan.



Today I'm not posting a review of a book, but a review of a newspaper article,that contained some important points, and this seemed the best way to alert readers to the column. 
I am looking at a paper page from The Times supplement, written by the excellent Caitlin Moran. I picked it up from the supermarket on Saturday morning, I didn't read it until yesterday., today is Tuesday so that edition is is old and ready for fish and chips It will be somewhere in the Times Online however, behind the paywall.

So I'm posting my review of the Invisible Column here (even if that does sound like something from Terry Pratchett) in the hope you'll watch out for her words.

Caitlin Moran may not be your immediate sort of writer, although I know plenty who love her exuberant angle on life.

However, if you are interested in books, literacy. libraries and how society is informed - or not - Moran's progression of thought strikes home. Although many others have been writing and saying similar things.  the shock she feels comes across very powerfully.


She writes, initially, about a visit to the small, local library of her childhood. Moran says that between the ages of 5 and 15 she "lived" in this particular Wolverhampton library, situated in a working class area of town. She describes it as a place that was “the delight of my life” and “with the shelving packed tight because there were so many books inside”. In her wonderful style, she sums it up as as  a “magical system to place around a penniless girl.” Yet that was a past system, a library from twenty years ago. Her byline shouts about the changes:  “Everything had gone. All that was left were racks of Andy McNab and erotica.”  I’m sure this comes as no surprise to those ABBA who use and visit libraries, 

Moran had picked up that things were different. Yes, she was aware of library cuts, Yes, she had seen book sales outside libraries in Swindon and Barnet. However, it isn't until she revisits her Wolverhampton library, she really sees that “everything has gone.” She laments the loss, partly for herself but mostly for anyone who now needs what she’d found in that past library.

Now we've come to why I've blogged about Moran's column, why I'm trying to draw it to people's eyes. I can't be the only one whose attention drops away part-way through a post or article, especially if I'm weary.

However, when you find Moran's piece, DO read on, because this isn't a jokey exercise in comedy nostalgia.

Moran is particularly angry about the discarding of so many reference books and classics and as a person working in the media, she can make this point better than many.  She draws attention to the fact that all online searching and googling is statistically driven, predicting that diametrics will herd us into a mono-knowledge, like “a million dumb buffalo”.

Reading this, I recalled a drama game where everyone in the group chooses another person and quietly follows them around a single space. Within a short while, everyone is following in the footsteps of one or two people. The game reveals social influences and groupings, which is why I’ve rarely used it. The implications are potentially scary : a bit like diametrics.

Caitlin Moran ends with her strongest argument. She speaks against the kind of populism that says “Why shouldn’t the working classes be allowed to have books they enjoy?” But she takes this to its worrying conclusion. Once the intelligence and knowledge has been taken out of a library, the library system can easily be undermined. Furthermore, when only the poorest level of books are on offer, people will stop loving or visiting libraries. The libraries will be easy to close altogether. If you simply bleed the library service to death, Moran suggests, nobody will care,

Some might say this is already happening. Moran did not have the column inches to mention the enthusiasm for "community libraries run by volunteers", now paraded by councils as the universal answer. Had she picked up on this problem, I wondered? It’s less noticeable than you’d imagine until you ask for help, despite the good and willing intentions of volunteers. These libraries aren't the panacea that beaming politicians like to suggest. not when almost all the librarians have gone.

I really, really do hope Caitlin Moran’s article will act as a wake-up call to the meeja world, and that some will read through to the end of her article. At least her words aren't some belated ministerial PR initiative offered to obfuscate voters. 

I’d really like her column to alert those who don’t use the public libraries – especially those who have research done for them, or are academics, or those who can afford private library fees -  to see the damage that’s being done by the “it’s all on computers anyway,approach. Maybe it might encourage them to visit their local library and see what’s going on? And maybe they should start their investigation by reading Caitlin's article? But, ah yes, the problem of that Times paywall? 

Helpfully, some people are keen to have this article more widely available. I've heard rumours of Nosy Crow's website, for example.   

So many thanks for the library column, Caitlin Moran. It needed to be said. And it will need saying again, I fear. And readers - please note that this is only a review. Caitlin Moran’s argument and words are much more powerfully interesting - and amusing - than you’ve read here.  Go and look.

Penny Dolan.

ps. Awfully Big Blog Adventure's normal book review service will resume shortly.




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Friday, 17 April 2015

Violet and the Pearl of the Orient, by Harriet Whitehorn and Becka Moor. Reviewed by Saviour Pirotta

Publisher: Simon & Schuster Children's Books
Publication date: 12th February 2015
Illustrated by Becka Moor

I have to admit that I bought this book, Whitehorn's debut, because it was part of Waterstone's 'Buy one get one half price' promotion, and because I was quite taken by its 1950s pastiche cover. I fell in love with Violet, its feisty main character and her sidekick, the demure Rose right away.

Here's the perfect whodunnit with a cast of characters straight out of a delicious pantomime. The baddies are truly bad, ruthless and conceited, the goodies my kind of people - sincere, literate and posessing great taste. My favourite has to be the camp, fading Hollywood starlet called Dee Dee Derota who talks like Blanche out of The Golden Girls.

I should imagine most 6 to 8 year olds at whom this book is a targeted would have never read a detective story before. This would make the ideal introduction to the genre, complete with clues, red herrings and an ineffectual policeman.

I won't spoil the plot by saying too much about it. Suffice it to say the crime involves the theft of a rare and precious jewel.

The language is simple and pacey, perfect for bedtime or a holiday read on the beach. Becka Moor's colour illustrations and doodles enhance the experience. Can't wait to start on the second book of the series: Harriet and the Hidden Treasure.


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Wednesday, 15 April 2015

The Green Sheep, by Diana Kimpton

Diana Kimpton, as many of you will know, is a prolific writer for children with over forty books published. Many of them have to do with horses, but she's also very keen on science fiction, declaring with pride that she has watched Doctor Who 'since the very first episode'.


The Green Sheep is a story about aliens. But these are not hostile aliens. They - well, 'it', to start off
with - are sheep. And they're green. And they're great fans of a terrestrial soap opera, which is the reason they're here in the first place...

Paul Dane lives with his parents on the outskirts of a village. His father has recently got a new job with a firm called DETOPS, and as a result, he doesn't seem to have time to do things with Paul any more. One evening Paul goes for a walk by himself - and sees a strange beam of light. Next thing he knows, there's a sheep in the field where there wasn't one before. It's bright green. And It can talk.

It tells Paul that it is indeed an alien, but a friendly one. It knows what Earth is like - it knows about men in suits, and it doesn't want to be taken to anybody's leader - and so it asks Paul for help. Kind-hearted Paul agrees, and then his troubles begin. One of them is that, due to a technical malfunction (one of several), whenever the sheep falls asleep, it becomes two sheep. And so on, and so on... the alien isn't due to be picked up for a month, and Paul realises that by that time, there'll be millions of them. Where can he keep them all? How will he hide them? How can he feed them? And then the men in suits arrive - and one of them is Paul's dad.

I read this with my eight year-old grandson. It made him laugh out loud, and he didn't want me to stop. He doesn't so far read much by himself, but I think this book would be one to help him feel confident about reading alone: the language is uncomplicated, the pace is brisk, and the narrative drives you from one chapter to the next. It's funny and warm and it has a reassuring message. Just the job - for any child, but particularly for those who are a little bit worried about the tiger on the landing or the monster under the bed.

The Green Sheep is published by Kubby Bridge Books, and is available  as a paperback and as an ebook.

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