Buddha Boy by Kathe Koja

"Do you know the concept of karma?  It's kind of like a circle, or cause-and-effect, like a slow-tolling bell you rang maybe a year ago, five years ago, maybe in another lifetime if you in believe that.  Karma means that what you do today, and why you do it, makes you who you are forever:  as if you were clay, and every thought and action left a mark in that clay, bent it, shaped it, even ruined it...but with karma there are no excuses, no explanations, no I-didn't-really-mean-it-so-can-I-have-some-more-clay. Karma takes everything you do very, very seriously."

Buddha Boy reminds me so much of Jerry Spinelli's YA classic Stargirl.   It has a similar type of narrator, a regular kid who is drawn to an eccentric new student that none of his fellow students really understand.  The narrator faces the same problem, whether to follow his heart and stand up for the friendship or follow the mean-spirited crowd.  In both cases the title characters stand out due to their unusual creativity and willingness to act out non-mainstream ideas.  Neither book ends exactly the way we want it to, and the maturation the narrators experience is the kind that comes from loss.  

"So explain this, now:  You wish, want, work for one thing, but instead something else happens, the thing you most dreaded, the thing you tried your best to stop.  And then it turns out that what you wanted, all you wanted and more, stood hidden behind exactly what you didn't, and to get to one you had to take the other first. 

Is that how life goes?  Is that how life is supposed to go--like walking blindfolded and backwards to get to where you need to be?  Or is it just karma, gods and lions and hungry ghosts, doing what it has to do?"

Buddha Boy is a short, thoughtful story about friendship and seeing under the surface of people.  Justin is a kid who is content to be ordinary, in the middle, where "it's comfortable, it's easy, and it's safe".  Buddha Boy, or Jinsen (his spiritual name, given to him by a Buddhist teacher, meaning "the fountain of God, the place where God springs up in the world")  arrives in Justin's high school with his head shaved bald and a begging bowl instead of a lunch bag.  Emulating a Buddhist monk, he baffles the student body and enrages the hotshot "kings of the school" with his odd appearance and pacifistic mindset.  Justin and Jinsen are partnered for a class project, and Justin soon finds himself fascinated by Jinsen, his artistry and his zen view of life.  The two boys form a bond which is tested as the school bullies home in on Jinsen with ever-increasing ferocity.  

What I liked most about Buddha Boy, aside from the gorgeous, layered writing, was the complexity and fullness of characterization that Koja achieved while keeping her story simple. The reflective, ever-so-slightly poignant tone does nothing to diminish what Justin in the end takes from his friendship with Jinsen; the insight that inside, we're all gods, even those of us who are unaware. 

My Swordhand is Singing by Marcus Sedgwick

 

I love the title of this book--it resonates, I think, with those ancient epic poems about heroes and battles, victory and defeat, which so many cultures seem to have developed.  It's a good choice for this story.  Sedgwick is a strong and elegant writer who excels at transporting his readers to the past and steeping them in generous amounts of action and chilly atmosphere.

My Swordhand Is Singing is a vampire tale.  It's not written in the current romantic "Bella and Edward" vein;  rather, it is rooted in old Eastern European folklore in which vampires were terrifying, deeply evil, and often quite disgusting to look at.   The folkloric motifs in this story are many--woodcutters, small villages surrounded by the dense wintry gloom of "Mother Forest", gypsies, magical songs and unearthly, unseen characters known as the Shadow Queen and the Winter King.  The charms and defenses against vampires that feature here are equally folkloric--garlic, millet, hawthorne, nets flung into graves.  An archaic ritual, the Wedding of the Dead, plays a pivotal role in the plot.  Sedgwick uses these old beliefs and traditions to create a feeling of historic authenticity, albeit one where the supernatural is dark and dreadful and thrives in the shadows of the natural world. 

Sedgwick's  story concerns the lives of the woodcutter Tomas  and his son Peter, nomads who have recently moved to a hut outside the village of Chust, where villagers view them with xenophobic suspicion.  Tomas is a troubled, violent man who drinks more than he works, and who has been keeping many secrets from his son.  I won't reveal exactly what they are, but they relate to his warrior past.  When a plague of vampires sweeps the village and both his father and the village elders are in denial,  Peter responds to try and protect his sweetheart, drawing his father into danger as well. 

Sedgwick creates some striking images, such as the vampire whose tongue slices through his victim's neck, or the grave with the hole just big enough for Peter to glimpse the corpse's eye, which suddenly opens. However, the chills are nicely balanced by the wholesomeness of Peter's character, which is always humble but grows in courage, determination and maturity.   This is a startling and satisfying book, an exciting story memorably told.

BioGraphic Novel Series: The 14th Dalai Lama by Tetsu Saiwai

"Children are our most precious treasure.  If well-informed and educated, they can preserve Tibetan culture and further develop it for a hopeful future." 

The 14th Dalai Lama is exactly the type of book which inspired me to specialize, as a librarian, in literature for young people, and the type of book which continues to keep me inspired in this field.  Who could not be thrilled with the opportunity to introduce the world's future generations to such a visionary world figure, presented in such an artistic and engaging manner?  

The 14th Dalai Lama is a product of an independent Japanese manga studio called Emotional Content, which is producing a series of high-quality manga biographies about people the founder considers to be the true superheros of our world, people such as Ghandi, Mother Teresa, and Che Guevara.  Emotional Content's founder, Eiji Han Shimizu, believes that "we can learn the value of compassion, history and philosophy through manga", and considers Emotional Content's manga biographies to be one of Japan's contributions to global political and philosophical discourse. 

This book focuses on the Dalai Lama's early years, from his early childhood until his mid-twenties. These were the primary years of his training in the philosophies of Tibetan Buddhism, and were also the years of China's invasion of Tibet, with all of its attendant political ramifications.  We see the beginning of the Dalai Lama's steadfast maintenance of a philosophy of non-violence, even under extreme political duress.  We also see the passionate love for his country and culture that he has also maintained, even in exile.  This extraordinary childhood and young adulthood is shown vividly and dramatically, and is sure to fascinate young readers interested in peace, spirituality,  world politics, or the lives of great men.

Resistance Book 1 by Carla Jablonski and Leland Purvis

First off, I'm really intrigued by this cover art.  I think it sets us up brilliantly for what's to come. At first glance the cover seems comical, like a political cartoon--a faceless Nazi, all unknowing, about to get bonked on the helmet by some impish child's toy slingshot.  But a full view (the art wraps around the back) shows us Paul Tessier, one of the child protagonists of Resistance, getting ready to release the slingshot, a look of ferocious determination on his face.  His grim expression immediately sombers the mood of the image, recalling us to the truth--Paul may have a slingshot, but his target has a gun and won't hesitate to use it.  He may be the biblical David to the Nazi Goliath, but the odds are heavily weighted against him.  Resistance may cost Paul his life.

Resistance Book 1 is the first of a trilogy of graphic books for children set in France during the Nazi occupation.  It centres around Paul and Marie Tessier, young siblings whose father is being held as a prisoner of war by the German army.  When their Jewish friend Henri's parents are taken by the Nazis while he happens to be away from home, they conspire to hide him in the wine cellars of their family's vineyards.  When Paul discovers that their farmhand Jacques is a member of a resistance group, he begs to join, and the group decides that Paul and Marie's youth might be an asset.  The two children and their older sister end up taking a terrifying journey to Paris to reunite Henri with his rescued parents.

Resistance is a thoughtful book that reads fluidly and is full of telling detail.  From the paranoid secrecy of the time to the squabbles brought on by fear and tension, it's all very believable.  Paul is an artist, and his sketchbook gives us additional insight into his feelings as the story progresses. The author's note at the end reminds us not to make hasty judgments.

" Living in a country that has never been occupied...it is hard to imagine the pressures people faced.  These pressures were both external (physical threats, lack of food, disappearing neighbours) and internal (fear, family loyalty, national pride, belief systems) and they influenced the choices people made.  What seems obvious to us now was probably not at all obvious to anyone then...Each French citizen...had their own story, their own personal concerns to weigh, risks to assess with no idea of how things would turn out, or even what the next day would bring.  Sometimes [their] choices were regrettable, sometimes noble.  All were difficult."


Defiance, the second book in the Resistance trilogy, is coming out July 2011.

You by Charles Benoit

"When I started You,  I knew I wanted a book that had a WTF? ending (that stands for Wild, Thought-provoking Finish).  I wanted readers to be, shall we say, uncomfortable with how it ends.  I wanted them to get involved and figure it all out. That was the goal--to what degree I hit it is up to the reader."
Charles Benoit 

Well, I think Mr. Benoit definitely hit the bulls-eye.

  You is an unusual book in several ways.  It's got massive reluctant-reader appeal, with its gripping opening ("You're surprised at all the blood"), tight pacing and adroit suspense.  It reminds me a lot of Gentlemen, which I reviewed back in 2010. Like Gentlemen, You has a punchy literary style, draws readers into the narration with an urgency I would call relentless, and generates questions almost as fast as you can turn the pages.  In short, it's that oxymoronic, almost impossible thing, a challenging easy read. 

The highlight of this book for me  was the narrative voice.  Benoit has used a second-person narrative style, very unusual in teen fiction because it's so difficult to pull off well.  He pulls it off superbly, and as a result I found that my investment and interest in the main character, with all his faults, was strong.  The second-person voice also  lets Benoit pose his questions quite explicitly and directly to us, the reader, blasting us out of the voyeuristic passivity which readers can sometimes let themselves be lulled into.  You is in no way a passive read.

"Think.
When did it go wrong?
The break-in?
No, before that.
The party?
That was part of it, but that wasn't when it started.
Zack?
Of course, yeah, it would be easy to say it was Zack.  But that's not it, is it?"

Here's a link to Charles Benoit talking about You. Enjoy!

Picture Book Roundup: What Ewan and I Are Currently Laughing Our Heads Off At

A recent article in the New York Times remarks on the decline in picture book sales in 2010, and posits that parents are hurrying their kindergarten and grade 1 children into "big kid" or chapter books in order to prepare them for academia.  Not in our house, mister!  I love picture books (what's not to love?  They have PICTURES!), and I love reading them with Ewan, my book-devouring second grader.  And I don't for one second subscribe to the idea that picture books will dumb him down.  In fact, I believe that the use of humour in many picture books can be way more sophisticated than in chapter books, because the interplay between text and picture is so open to dramatic possibility.  And don't even get me started on vocabulary--a little soporific lettuce, anyone?  So, here's a roundup of some of the smart and funny picture books Ewan and I have been kicking back with this week. 

Let's start will Melanie Watt, shall we?  Have I Got a Book for You! is a hilarious spoof of pushy salespeople, particularly those on T.V. infomercials.  The whole story is the salesman trying to sell us the book.  Talk about meta-fiction.  It wouldn't work half as well without the pictures, which show us:
1)  exactly how satisfied Mr. Al Foxword's previous customers are,
2)  why we should buy Al's book RIGHT NOW!, and
3) what we can do with not one, but two of Al's awesome books (or how about 742 of them...to make the Book Fort you've always wanted!)

Ah, the delicious, ridiculous irony of it all....and by the way, gotta love that surprise on the last page!

Michael Ian Black's new book, A Pig Parade is a Terrible Idea, is kind of the opposite of Have I Got a Book For You!  This book assumes we're sold on a crazy idea ("Like most children, you have probably thought to yourself at one time or another, I bet a pig parade would be a lot of fun.") and goes to enormous lengths to persuade us of its potential for disaster.  Pigs don't march, they snuffle, and "snuffling is simply an inappropriate way to conduct yourself along a parade route.".  They won't wear those snappy majorette uniforms, and they prefer sad country ballads to "good, spirited marching-band music".   They also don't see the point of floats.  Even pig-themed floats.  And if you try explaining any of these things to a pig, "they just look at you as if you are speaking a language they do not understand."    Pictures showing pigs destroying marching band instruments and wreaking havoc with snappy majorette uniforms, never mind getting their snouts stuck in the used bubble gum on city sidewalks, clearly demonstrate that this writer knows what he's talking about. Ix-nay on the Pig Parade, already!

 
David Bruins and Hilary Leung's Ninja Cowboy Bear Presents the Way of the Ninja is a friendship story that illustrates what can happen when one member of a group  is more adventurous than the others. Ninja, cowboy and bear are friends.  "When they got together it usually led to merrymaking, buffoonery and hilarity."  But sometimes cowboy and bear are too sedate for rambunctious ninja.  When cowboy wants to paint, ninja wants to jump on beds.  When bear wants to pick flowers, ninja wants to climb trees and poke bee's nests.  To ninja, a swing isn't a swing, it's a launchpad.  Let's shoot for the stars!  But when cowboy and bear get hurt playing with ninja, he thinks they are poor sports.   How the spirited ninja learns to include his friends in  his wild play makes for a story that is both funny and sweet.

 And, last but definitely not least, Olivia Helps With Christmas.  As in all the Olivia books, the visuals are everything.  They show us every nuance of the drama, and with Olivia, we know there's got to be drama, yes?  The opening spread ('Twas the day before Christmas.  Olivia and her family had been out all morning, busy with last-minute shopping.  Olivia was exhausted, yet there was still so much to do.") features a picture of Olivia's Mom and Dad, juggling packages, trees and children but looking pretty spry, following a bedraggled, burnt-out Olivia, who, as Ewan delightedly points out, isn't carrying one single thing!    Christmas morning brings us a shot of Olivia and her two little brothers bounding downstairs, mouths open wide, beneath the dry line "noiselessly they crept down the stairs.".   My very favourite page is where we learn that "Some of Santa's offerings were better than others. Pajamas.  Skis!  Sweater.  Sled!  Booties.  Maracas!", with correspondingly glum and lively faces on the gift recipients.  Santas of the world, listen up:  sleds and maracas will trump pajamas and booties every time!   'Nuff said.

Keeper by Kathi Appelt

Kathi Appelt set a very high bar for herself with her previous novel The Underneath, a richly magical tale set in the Texas bayou, which was lauded as a modern classic reminiscent of Sounder and The Yearling.  In my opinion it was much more sophisticated than these older stories, although it did center similarly around the emotional lives of animals and their vulnerability to human interference.   Keeper, published this year, is an equally lovely but lighter story, maintaining the depth and mystery of The Underneath but conjuring up a tone of poignancy rather than suspense and heartbreak. 

Appelt is a literary writer and her style is an important part of the reading experience.  It's the kind of style you either like or you don't. This is a meandering story, which moves backwards and forwards in time and follows many different points of view.  The pacing is leisurely. The imagery is skilled and poetic.  This is not a book to race through, but a book to wander with and enjoy.  However, Appelt is not one to let her wanderings lead nowhere--she knows exactly where she is taking us.  She is taking us into the heart of family, into the heart of belonging.

Keeper is a ten-year-old girl having a bad day before a blue moon.  The problem is, blue moon days are rare and special, and the people Keeper loves most in the world have had dreams and wishes centered around this particular blue moon.  Signe wants to make her seductive blue moon crab gumbo.  Dogie wants to sing "marry me" to Signe.  Mr. Beauchamp wants to see his mysterious lost love, Jack, one last time.  But Keeper has ruined the gumbo, burned the gumbo pot, broken the ukelele and let the dog destroy Mr. Beauchamp's night-blooming cyrus.  Overwhelmed by her problems, Keeper decides to take a boat out to the sandbar at night to meet Meggie Marie, her mermaid mother, in hopes that a mother's love can help her solve her problems.  But in the dark of the night, Keeper's small boat is swept out to sea and she loses an oar.  There are no mermaids sparkling around the sandbar.  And despite the blue moon shining in the sky, Keeper can no longer find her way home. 

This is the kind of story where we experience loss only so we can also experience the joy of being found.   By the end of the story, Keeper has found her true mother, Dogie and Signe have found what they mean to each other, and Mr. Beauchamp...well, what he finds is most miraculous at all. I have to say that I took great pleasure in how matter-of-factly Appelt has woven the romance of these two old men, one with "wrinkles upon wrinkles" and one "as old as barnacles",  into her tale of inclusion.  The image of Mr. Beauchamp and Jacques de Mer holding hands was, for me,  one of the loveliest in this whole lovely story.