Summer Reads for Kids, Part One
Summer reading for kids: Only the best
June 4, 2010
Deirdre Baker
A new season means new books, so here are some suggestions for cheering up, sobering down or whiling away a lazy afternoon of summer — good stuff for young people and old people.
A toddler takes to the swings in Leslie Patricelli’s Higher Higher (Candlewick, 32 pages, $9, 0 to 2 years), the newest in her series of unremittingly funny (and realistic!) board books about baby life. “Higher! Higher!” the girl demands. We see her swing above the trees, the houses, the mountains, right out into space and back. Her last word is one all child-caretakers will recognize: “Again!” Colourful, direct and familiar, this subtle story brings a mind-expanding notion into play for baby: the world is way, way bigger than the playground.
Making friends
is at the heart of Argentinian Natalia Colombo’s So Close (Tundra, 24 pages, $19.99, ages 2 to 4) and American Laura Vaccaro Seeger’s What If (Roaring Brook, 32 pages, $18.99, ages 2 to 4).
In So Close, a rabbit and duck who are neighbours pass each other daily, never speaking. With quiet colours and bare, spare lines, Colombo shows their loneliness. “What a difference one little word could make!” the storyteller says, and with a shy “hello” we see rabbit and duck on a page of cheery red — playing and friendly at last.
Seeger’s What If radiates bright yellows and even brighter blues, the colours of sun, water and summer. Two seals are playing with a beach ball, but the ball rolls away and lands near a third. In three “what if?” moments, Seeger invites kids to see different scenarios play out. Will two of the seals leave one out? Will they all play together? This almost wordless book evokes summer play and reasons through the happy effects of friendliness.
For sheer ego
, energy and pizzazz, turn to Chris Raschka’s and Vladimir Radunsky’s Hip Hop Dog (Harper, 32 pages, $19.99, ages 3 to 7). It’s a zesty, rhythmic tale of an unwanted puppy who hip hops himself to cheerfulness. “Now the pit bulls and the schnoodles / Know I’m not some lowly mutt. / All the Afghans and the poodles like to stop and watch me strut,” he raps. Raschka’s beat and rhymes are joyously goofy; the broad brush strokes and playful poses in Radunsky’s art show up this tale’s counter-culture nuttiness. Great for reading aloud.
American poet
Maxine Kumin’s What Color Is Caesar? (Candlewick, 32 pages, $22, ages 4 to 6), illustrated by Alison Friend, is a nicely drawn out dog tale about a Dalmatian who can’t decide whether he’s black with white spots or white with black spots. “What color am I, basically?” he wonders. After interviewing fellow black and white creatures, he’s got a much better sense of the hues that colour his mind and identity. Kumin weaves some good poetic wonderings about the way we see ourselves into this affable, earnest canine’s quest.
In animal science
, Americans Steve Jenkins and Robin Page present How to Clean a Hippopotamus: A Look at Unusual Animal Partnerships (Houghton Mifflin, 32 pages, $19.95, ages 4 to 7). Ants that share their nest with a woodpecker, fish that run a “cleaning station” for eels and stingrays, coyotes and badgers that team up to catch gophers . . . the authors highlight inventive animal co-operation. Each page illustrates partnership in several panels and Jenkins’ collage illustrations, mingling textured paper, clean, fresh colours and effective design, make this an appealing as a work of art, too.
B.C.’s Ian
McAllister and Nicholas Read focus on bears — grizzly, spirit and black — in their highly readable The Salmon Bears: Giants of the Great Bear Rainforest (Orca, 89 pages, $18.95, ages 8 to 14). This is as much about the ecology of a region, the Great Bear Rainforest that runs along B.C.’s northwest coast, as it is about the forest’s bears. Familiarity, affection and respectful attentiveness suffuse text and photographs, whether describing vegetation, weather or the solitary beasts themselves. Information is here aplenty — on bears’ life cycles, eating habits and behaviors — but the authors also present an ethos, an atmosphere and a glimpse into the wild. Through the many photographs, we get an intimate view of place and creatures. Superb reading for the young naturalist.
Place is central
to Ontarian Laurel Croza’s I Know Here (Groundwood, 40 pages, $18.95, ages 5 to 8), illustrated by Matt James. A little girl learns she’ll be moving from her home in a remote settlement in Saskatchewan to Toronto. “I don’t know Toronto,” she thinks. “I know here.” As she wanders she describes its features — the ten trailers across the road, the fox with smelly damp fur, the squishy spot by the beaver dam where her sister catches frogs. Croza conveys beautifully the precise, multi-sensual awareness and familiarity that comes in childhood, in which knowledge of place can seem an inalienable part of identity. James’ intense colours, sharp black lines and stylized, almost child-art perspectives deepen the conviction and promise in the girl’s decision to fold everything of her “here” into a drawing.
Two re-issues
of old classics also celebrate the outdoors. In Frances Hodgson Burnett’s The Secret Garden (Candlewick, 279 pages, $19, ages 6 to 11), with illustrations by Inga Moore and now in paperback, the timeless description of a garden coming to life is as vivid and palpable as ever — perhaps more so with Moore’s lovingly detailed drawings. So too is the powerful draw of a tale in which children share a secret, outdoor place. While dated in some ways, this story still works.
American E.C.
Spykman’s Terrible Horrible Edie (NYRB, 224 pages, $19.95, ages 9 to 12), first published in 1960, takes us to the seaside summer house of an affluent Massachusetts family in the 1910s. “Terrible, horrible” Edie, 10, struggles with the frustration of being sandwiched between three much older siblings and two baby half-sisters. Independent-minded and fond of excitement, she engineers her own trouble and adventure — indulging in forbidden sailing expeditions, challenging the United States Militia and capturing a jewel thief. Spykman’s dry humour, her sympathy for ornery, admirable Edie and her sharply observed depiction of sibling dynamics make this a delight.
My top pick
for an all-engrossing new novel is Torontonian Celia Lottridge’s Home Is Beyond the Mountains (Groundwood, 224 pages, $18.95, ages 9 to 13), based on the true story of the author’s aunt, who led 300 orphans on foot through the Persian mountains in 1922. Samira is 9 when she and her family must leave their small Assyrian village in the summer of 1918 because Turkish forces are pushing into northern Persia (now Iran). Samira’s parents die en route. She lands in a refugee camp run by the British, then in various temporary orphanages. She adjusts to each new place and routine, makes some staunch friends and becomes a surrogate mother to a rambunctious toddler. But it isn’t until Miss Shedd takes over as director of the orphanage that returning home seems possible. After months of waiting for official permission, the orphans begin their foot journey of three hundred miles to their homes.
This story spans a wide range of space and time, always tethered to the point of view of the girl whose childhood is shaped by her orphanhood and displacement. Samira’s sturdy courage and hard work is patent in Lottridge’s deceptively simple prose. The final result is a story that’s full of subtle feeling, and at the same time strong, direct and engaging. Highly recommended.
Vancouver Islander
John Wilson’s Bitter Ashes: The Story of World War II (Napoleon, 85 pages, $20.95, ages 9 to 13) runs at a quick, firm pace, as he presents an accessible, often mesmerizing, account of the war. Like Desperate Glory, Wilson’s earlier World War I book, Bitter Ashes is clear, critical and succinct. An emphasis on Canadian involvement gives it particular interest, but more notable is Wilson’s distinctive social and political view. He includes capitalism as one of the three “competing political ideas” that defined the stakes in the war, something few histories for children do. He includes a section on the poets of World War II, pointing out that war poets go beyond John McCrae and on to the likes of Randall Jarrell, the children of Theresienstadt and others. The book’s breadth, warmth and clarity provide a good read for young history buffs, a compelling narrative even for those who don’t usually take to non-fiction.
American Elizabeth
Partridge’s Marching for Freedom: Walk Together, Children, and Don’t You Grow Weary (Viking, 72 pages, $25, ages 10 to 14), winner of the 2010 Jane Addams Children’s Peace Association Award, takes the phrase “compelling narrative” up a notch. Partridge tells the story of the activist youths who marched for voting rights for black Americans in Mississippi, 1965. Based on interviews with those involved and using intensely evocative black-and-white photographs, she recounts the historic march from Selma to Montgomery from the perspective of the children. Their courage and thoughtful determination comes through brilliantly, a testament to the power of political action at all ages.
For those who
want a lose-yourself-in-it adventure story and mystery, turn to Leon Garfield’s classic Smith (Puffin, 271 pages, $8.99, ages 10+) — Small Print’s pick to celebrate Puffin books’ 50th birthday. “He was called Smith and was twelve years old. Which, in itself, was a marvel; for it seemed as if the smallpox, the consumption, brain-fever, gaol-fever and even the hangman’s rope had given him a wide berth for fear of catching something. Or else they weren’t quick enough . . . ” Smith’s “turn of speed” is remarkable — all the better since he’s a pickpocket in 18th century London’s dark, dirty streets. One day he picks the wrong pocket and ends up with a document that well-heeled gentlemen are willing to kill for. Fast, shadowy, prickling with words as convoluted and enticing as the alleys Smith slips through, this novel is both mystery and children’s lit at their best.
A simpler dark
tale, a moral fable, emerges from Me & Death: An Afterlife Adventure (Tundra, 187 pages, $14.99, ages 10 to 13) by Cobourg’s Richard Scrimger. Jim, hero of this story, starts by being hit by a car — but that’s not the end for him. Well on his way to full-scale thuggery before the accident, Jim’s near-death coma allows him to tour his memory with three supernatural guides. He sees the origins of his own turmoil and gains insight into those he has either bullied or revered. When Jim recovers, he sets about making amends. The moral of the story is straightforward, lightened by Scrimger’s comic irony and energized by a suspenseful climax.
Apologies and amends have an important role in Vancouver Islander Susan Juby’s hilarious, moving memoir Nice Recovery (Viking, 257 pages, $20, ages 14+). Most readers know Juby as the author of the Alice books and other off-beat young adult novels. Here she is autobiographer, confessing her teenage alcoholism and drug habit. She does this with compulsively readable, self-deprecating wit, a candid voice and an entertainer’s penchant for the lively turn of phrase. At first a way to deal with social awkwardness at the age of 13, Juby’s drinking and drug habit escalated until in her twenties she contacted Alcoholics Anonymous and began her ongoing recovery. A cautionary tale, yes, but with energy derived from a spirit of compassion and sympathy. It’s as wise, witty and engrossing as any young adult novel I’ve read recently.
For teens who
want to lose themselves in a more somber take on tragedy’s after-effects, The Worst Thing She Ever Did (HarperCollins, 210 pages, $15.99, ages 12 to 15) by Saskatchewan’s Alice Kuipers offers well-written angst. A British high school student, Sophie is trying to forget the circumstances of her sister’s death. If only Sophie hadn’t stopped to tie her shoe, she and her sister wouldn’t have been on the tube train that was blown up by terrorists. But she did, and they were, and Sophie survived but her sister was killed. In a year of crumbling relationships and worse grades, Sophie gradually manages to face the past. With its short, sharp sentences, high school friendships and believable adolescent emotion, this is an engaging, thoughtful read.
Also available are two excellent new-in-paperback novels:
• Ontarian Tim Wynne-Jones’ The Uninvited (Candlewick, 353 pages, $12, ages 13+) is a psychological thriller with a luscious and pervasive sense of place. New Yorker Mimi heads to the wilds of Ontario to stay in a cabin that belongs to her long-estranged father, but when she gets there it’s already inhabited and — could it be? — haunted.
• American Garret Freymann-Weyr’s After the Moment (Graphia, 328 pages, $9.99, ages 13+) — despite a cover that looks like an ad for feminine hygiene products — is the intelligent, thoughtful story of a boy’s first romance. This love story is complicated by the self-proclaimed “train wreck” that is Maia, the object of Leigh’s devotion, by his own shaky self-knowledge and by the sordid complexities of high school life that, alas, are all too intrusive and real.
Author Deirdre Baker teaches children’s lit at the U of T. Her Small Print usually appears every two weeks.