Friday, December 28, 2012

Book Reviews: Classics Old and New (part 2)

Part 1 of this series is here.

* * * *

Still Classic?

My Side of the Mountain, Jean Craighead George, 1959
Hatchet, Gary Paulsen, 1987, first of series of five books

Sam Gribley, the teenage hero of My Side of the Mountain, runs away from his crowded New York City home, determined to live off the land. He brings only a few basic tools and a little money, and learns how to survive by trial-and-error and through research at the local library. Sam does more than survive: he builds a rich life for himself in the woods. After contact with some locals from nearby towns, this "wild boy" of the forest becomes something of a local legend.

I was fascinated with this book as a child. It inspired fantasies of living off the land the way Sam Gribley did, and deepened my appreciation of nature. Re-reading the book as an adult, I was still impressed. There are some awkward, old-fashioned phrasing - "You know, it really does hurt to be terribly hungry" does not sound like a teenage boy to me - but the arc of Sam's progress is compelling enough to overlook those. The book is packed with details about nature and survival, from how to build a fire and find edible plants, to how to train a hawk and tan a deerskin hide.

In Gary Paulsen's Hatchet, fifteen-year-old Brian Robeson survives an accident but is left alone in the Canadian wilderness, his only tool and helper, a hatchet. Where My Side of the Mountain is a naturalist's tale, Hatchet is about survival. Brian's life is at stake. He is forced to learn how to build a fire without matches, how to make a safe shelter, how to get food. These lessons are about more than information and technique. They are, quite literally, lessons of life or death.

As Brian adapts and learns, he becomes more atuned to both himself and his surroundings. He acquires more than new skills; he acquires a new sense of self, of nature, of the interconnectedness of all things. He also learns, painfully, about the random luck of life and death, of nature's beauty, and its cruelty, and its loneliness.

Paulsen's writing is sparse and urgent, and always feels authentic. Because Brian has survived a terrible accident and has no possibility of simply leaving and going home, Hatchet has an urgency that My Side of the Mountain lacks. Brian is also dealing with his parents' recent divorce and some painful knowledge about his mother. This also grounds Brian's character in reality. Sam Gribley's family, by contrast, is an abstraction.

Jean Craighead George, author of My Side of the Mountain, also wrote the excellent Julie of the Wolves (1972), among other books. George was a naturalist who lived with a family full of animals, and a prolific and excellent writer. She died in 2012, her death little noticed (perhaps because Maurice Sendak, a more famous children's author, died around the same time).

I would still recommend My Side of the Mountain to young readers, but I'd go for Hatchet first.


Little House on the Prairie, Laura Ingalls Wilder, series originally published from 1932-1943, republished in many subsequent editions
Dear Canada, Dear America, My Story, I Am Canada series, various authors

I was fascinated with the Little House series as a child, and you can guess why. The main character's name was Laura, and she grew up to be the Laura who wrote these books. A Laura who was a writer. I don't know if I read the entire series, but I read many of them, and many times. [The Canadian equivalent may be Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables. But I didn't grow up in Canada, I don't share the Canadian obsession with these books, and I won't venture into that territory just now.]

I haven't looked at a Little House book since my grade-school days, and I had no idea how they would read. The answer is: really well. The writing is simple and straightforward, and surprisingly, does not feel dated. The Ingalls family faces challenges and hardships, always together as a family, and always seeing the bright side of every situation.

But. There's a big but. The Ingalls family were white settlers on the American frontier. That means they encountered Indians, as the Native Americans would have been called. And depictions of Indians, in those days, means racism. The Little House books are perennials on the Challenged Book list, always accused of racism. Picking up these books for the first time in more than 40 years, I was holding my breath a bit, wondering how bad it would be.

I'm pleased to say it wasn't that bad. Nowhere near as racist as Hollywood movies of the same era, where Indians are either bloodthirsty savages or lazy idiots. Wilder's Indians are utterly different from the white settlers - they are exotified - and their difference frightens the family. But they are depicted as real human beings - people with families and traditions, and an authentic culture of their own. When a character says, "The only good Indian is a dead Indian," Pa - who is the moral authority of the series, the voice of benevolent authority - disagrees. Pa believes in mutual respect, in live-and-let-live.

But. But still. These are settlers. They are descendants of Europeans, and they are "taming" a "wilderness"; they are claiming this land for their own. There is no challenge or counterpoint to Manifest Destiny. I would hardly expect a children's book to refer to the westward expansion as genocide, but the indigenous point of view is completely absent.

There are other cringe-worthy bits, too. In Little Town on the Prairie, a minstrel show comes to town. The racism here is blatant, and quite disgusting.

Racism and imperialism in classic children's literature is a huge issue, and I won't try to deal with it exhaustively here. Little House on the Prairie is the tip of the iceberg. Some old children's books considered classics, still on the shelves in libraries throughout the English-speaking world, are shockingly racist, and I question the need to include them in our libraries today.

Here are two interesting perspectives on this issue. In The Diamond in the Window, a blog about children's books, a mom writes about dealing with the racism, both written and implied: Racism, History, and Little House on the Prairie. This mom feels the answer is providing context. I agree, but it's a tough job, and I wonder about the necessity of it. Do our children really suffer if they're not exposed to the books of their parents' or grandparents' youth? Won't books of their own generation do well enough?

In the Laura Ingalls Wilder blog Only Laura, a writer and fan of the series asks, "Little House on the Prairie: Racist or Not?".
Yes, Ma is racist (and as a mother I must say understandably so, trying to mother her children in the middle of such unrest). But if Ma is racist, isn’t Pa her counterpart? And whose side does Laura take? Whose side does the narrator take? What emerges is, in fact, a complex push-pull relationship as Laura has to make a decision about how she feels about these people she knows as Indians. And the author shares with me — the reader — that decision.

Laura likes Indians. She admires them. She feels badly for what’s happening to them. She does not say each of these things outright, although she does say some of them. By what Laura Ingalls Wilder, the writer, chooses to share about the character Laura’s thoughts about the Indians, it’s clear that to her, Ma’s judgment does not ring true.

I think that for young readers, the lesson here is not racism. It’s acceptance and respect.
Well, maybe. This is the perspective of someone who finds racism "understandable" when a woman is "mothering" children, and who employs that delicate, blame-free euphemism, "unrest". I agree that Wilder, through the character of Pa, emphasizes tolerance and mutual respect. But the reader is still identifying with the trials and tribulations of the settlers. The Indian perspective is barely alluded to.

I think young readers are better served from a fresher perspective on history. Historical fiction series like Dear America, Dear Canada, I Am Canada, and My Story all tell history from the first-person point of view of a young person. They tackle some difficult territory, like the internment of Ukrainian immigrants in Canada, the anti-Semitism that led to boatloads of doomed European Jews being turned away from North American shores (both in the US and Canada), and child labour. The writing is very good, and the first-person narratives are gripping.

I was very disappointed to see that the "Dear Canada" series is marketed exclusively to girls. The equivalent series marketed to boys is almost entirely focused on war. (One exception is a book about building the transcontinental railway.) Don't boys need and want to learn about history? As a student librarian, I already find myself clashing with childrens' readers' advisory that is almost entirely segregated by gender. Let's save that discussion for another day.

However, as I was writing this post, I was very pleased to learn that the "I Am Canada" series, the "boy" history series, includes a story of a war resister! A soldier in the trenches of WWI, horrified and traumatized, wanders off, as if he can go home to Canada. He comes upon a band of deserters, and must decide whether to continue to resist the war, or to return to the front. I've requested a copy from the Toronto Public Library (the Mississauga Library System doesn't own it) and will write about it soon.

These historical fiction series are, of course, still official readings of history. Don't expect Howard Zinn. But the non-dominant perspective is brought forward, in a way that the Laura Ingalls Wilder books cannot do.


Contemporary Classics

When You Reach Me, Rebecca Stead, 2009

Set in New York City in the late 1970s, When You Reach Me is a straightforward, realistic story, with a touch of the fantastical mixed in, a kind of magic realism that is thrilling and just a bit scary.

As Miranda's long-time best friendship breaks apart, and just as she tentatively begins to form some new friendships, the barefoot, laughing man appears in the neighbourhood for the first time. Who is sending Miranda these tiny handwritten notes - and how does the note-writer know so much about her?

This powerful tween novel also pays homage to one of the best children's books of all time, A Wrinkle in Time. I can't tell you what the two books have in common without giving too much away. Like Holes, When You Reach Me is a story of redemption. It's also about friendship, and independence, and what gets left behind as we come into our own. Also like Holes, it's one of the very best tween books I've read.


Because of Winn Dixie, Kate DiCamillo, 2000

When 10-year-old Opal finds a big, ugly dog in a Winn-Dixie grocery store, she names him after the store and brings him home. Opal lives with her father, a preacher, and misses her mother, who she doesn't know much about. Opal needs friends, and she makes them - because of Winn Dixie.

An assortment of quirky but very believable characters comes into Opal's life. The town librarian, whose ancestor made his fortune by creating a candy that is sweet, but tastes like sorrow, and who once fought off a bear with a copy of War and Peace. A nearly blind woman who town children say is a witch. A man in a pet store who plays his guitar for the animals. Winn Dixie brings these people into Opal's life, and Opal brings them into each other's lives.

This is a lovely, sad, heartwarming, but not sentimental, story. Children who like it will want to read it again and again, to get closer to the wonderful characters.

- Contributed by Laura Kaminker, CYA 2012-13 Co-chair, originally posted on wmtc.

Monday, December 24, 2012

Book Reviews: Classics Old and New (part 1)

In a series of reviews, I'll write about one or two older children's books, assess whether I believe the books are still relevant to a young reader today, and offer a more contemporary alternative. I'll also review two additional children's books that I recommend.

* * * *

Still Classic?

The Borrowers, Mary Norton, 1952, five books in the series
The Spiderwick Chronicles, Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black, 2003, currently eight books in the series

Borrowers are tiny creatures who look like miniature people, live in human homes, and re-purpose human belongings. If you're missing a thimble, a Borrower might be using it to strain spaghetti. Your missing bandanna might be a blanket for a king-size Borrower bed. When you lose something that you just know is in the house somewhere, but you can't find it, perhaps a Borrower took it.

The premise of The Borrowers is a terrific idea, but the books are old, and they are British, and may make unsatisfying - or incomprehensible - reading for a child in Canada or the US today. The language and the sentence structure may be too inaccessible. References to hat pins, darning, breakfast rooms, cupboards, and a hoop (as a toy), all in the first few pages, are likely to be off-putting.

A similar fantasy concept forms the basis of Tony DiTerlizzi and Holly Black's The Spiderwick Chronicles: three children move into an old estate and discover a world of fairy creatures living in the walls and floors. The ensuing adventures are a little scary and a little gross, full of vivid descriptions and lots of action. The childrens' personalities and issues will ring true to most readers. And it's all complimented by beautiful Gothic-style illustrations.


From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs Basil E. Frankweiler, E. L. Konigsburg, 1967
The View from Saturday, E. L. Konigsburg, 1996

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs Basil E. Frankweiler is a classic 'tween novel about a girl and her younger brother who run away from home and hide out in New York City's Metropolitan Museum of Art. Claudia's issues - feeling underappreciated, wanting to separate from her family and have her own adventure - are universal for young readers. The art-world mystery the children discover, and their new relationship with a surrogate grandparent, develop quickly and feel relevant. While some details feel dated - Claudia saves her allowance for a $1.40 train fare, her brother Jamie buys a transistor radio - I think young readers will easily glide over these and enjoy the story.

While I wouldn't avoid From the Mixed-Up Files, published in 1967, if I were introducing a young reader to the joys of E. L. Konigsburg, I'd start with 1996's A View from Saturday. Four misfit middle-school students will represent their school in an academic competition. Chapters following their progress alternate with chapters narrated by one of the members, each recounting a story of something that changed their life. At the heart of the competition is not so much a mystery as a puzzle. The clues are not obvious - in fact they're a little convoluted - but good readers won't be put off. Funny, touching, insightful, A View from Saturday is an excellent tween novel that will resonate with many readers.






Contemporary Classics

Holes, Louis Sachar, 1998

Stanley Yelnats has been accused of stealing a pair of sneakers from a famous baseball player. Despite his innocence, he is found guilty. That's typical for the Yelnats family. If it weren't for bad luck, they'd have no luck at all.

Stanley is sentenced to 18 months at Camp Green Lake - which isn't really a camp. There’s nothing green. And there’s no lake. In fact, there’s no anything – it’s in the middle of the desert in Texas. Nothing for miles and miles around but dry, flat, earth under the baking sun.

At Camp Green Lake, Stanley meets boys named X-Ray, Squid, Armpit, Zigzag, and Zero. And they're all digging holes.

Every day, every boy has to dig a huge hole, under the hot desert sun. The digging is supposed to turn them from bad boys to good boys. But maybe that’s not the real reason the boys are forced to dig holes. Stanley starts to realize that the warden at Camp Green Lake is looking for something. Something buried in the desert, a long time ago. What is she looking for?

Holes is a story of mistakes and redemption, of the past echoing in our lives, and of our ability to create our own lives in spite of the past. Holes is one of my favourite books, and one of the very best books for young people that I've read.


The Lightning Thief, Rick Riordan, 2005 (first in Percy Jackson series)

Rick Riordan is one of the most popular children's authors, and the moment you begin The Lightning Thief, you'll know why. The sentences fairly leap off the page, packed with action and vivid descriptions. Even reluctant readers may feel as though they're watching a movie.

Twelve-year-old Percy Jackson feels mired in a life of failure and loss, until he begins to discover his true origins and his destiny. The discovery sets Percy on a hero's journey, a quest to save his friends - and save the world. The present day coming-of-age and the fantastical hero's journey combine, as the realistic world mixes with a world of ancient gods and mythological creatures.

The Lightning Thief is super fast-paced; the narrator's voice is funny, sarcastic, and hip. Kids pick up this book and are riveted on the spot: I've seen boys read the whole novel in the library in one sitting, then go to the shelf to search for the next installment.

Rick Riordan has written two Percy Jackson serieses - Percy Jackson & the Olympians, and Heroes of Olympus, as well as The Kane Chronicles series, and several books for adults. Riordan also began the very popular (and excellent) children's series The 39 Clues. Few children's writers command as loyal and avid a following as Rick Riordan. See his website here.

- Contributed by Laura Kaminker, CYA 2012-13 Co-chair, originally posted on wmtc.

Friday, December 14, 2012

Recap of CYA fundraiser and book drive


         From November 26th-28th, the CYA held a fundraiser and book drive at the iSchool in support of the Children’s Book Bank, a charitable organization that provides free books and literacy support to children who attend schools in Toronto’s Regent Park community. During this event, the CYA successfully raised $400 and collected a big box of books! We attribute this success to the efforts and generosity of CYA members and the larger iSchool community. A month before the event, the CYA promoted the fundraiser and book drive on Facebook, the CYA mailing list, MISC digest and posters around the iSchool. During the fundraiser, CYA had tables set up in the iSchool lobby and CYA members volunteered their time selling beautiful handmade items crafted by the Stitch n Bitch group. Some of the items sold include hats, flower pins, a headband, shawl, cowl, tea towel and a kindle case.
The CYA also raised money by selling tickets for raffle prizes. A raffle ticket could be bought with a $2 donation and 3 raffle tickets could be bought with a $5 donation. Those who donated new or gently used children’s book for the book drive received 3 raffle tickets per book.
There were 4 prizes to be won:

Grand Prize - Winter Care Basket, containing:
- handknit hat
- chocolate fondue set
- diffuser with vanilla scent
- two hardcover books: Marley & Me by John Grogan, Irma Voth by Miriam Toews
- MISC travel mug for hot beverage
- winter-themed mug
- assorted travel-sized body lotions
- two MISC shot glasses
- assorted chocolates and candies

Second Prize: MISC Organic Tote Bag containing MISC merch:
- water bottle
- USB key
- travel mug
- mug
- shot glass

Third Prize:
- MISC USB key
- MISC mug
- MISC water bottle
- MISC shot glass

Fourth Prizes:
-  five winners received one MISC USB key each


The prizes for the draw were generously donated by CYA members and MISC council.

The CYA remains committed to raising awareness about the information needs of children and youth populations to the larger iSchool community. We thank everyone who contributed to the success of the fundraiser and book drive!

-- contributed by Ramona Sansait, CYA co-chair

Wednesday, March 21, 2012

A View from a Children's Library

I'm a part-time iSchool student and a member of CYA, now working as a page in a children's library. I thought I'd share something about my experience.

I'm a "mature" student (nice euphemism for old!) making a career change, hoping to work as a librarian in the Mississauga Library System (MLS). Before I even enrolled at the iSchool, a librarian friend gave me some excellent advice. As I have no library work experience, my friend urged me to get a job as a library page, shelving books. After the probationary period, I'd be eligible to apply for other jobs, and most importantly, I'd see internal job postings. Most library jobs, I'm told, never go external, so seeing those internal postings is key.

I want to work in my own community, and I'm lucky that MLS is easier to break into than Toronto Public Library (TPL). MLS's probationary period is much shorter than TPL's. In addition, MLS doesn't hire and promote on a seniority system. There are pros and cons to a strict seniority system, but when you're starting a new career at age 50, a non-seniority system looks pretty good. I'm not eager to spend 10 years working my way through the ranks to a full-time librarian position.

I applied for a page job just as MLS closed five branches for renovation, bringing on a hiring freeze. So it was a long wait - two years! - until I was called for an interview and a shelving test. The wait paid off. In December of 2011 I was offered a page position, and by happy coincidence, I was placed in the Central Library's Children's Department. And it is an awesome place to work!

Shelving books is not too exciting, but shelving books in a large children's library is more of a challenge than you might think. In the rest of the library, there's fiction organized by author's last name and there's nonfiction organized by Dewey. In children's, there are dozens of categories places a book might go, based on reading level and type of material. Fairy Tales, Fundamentals or Favourite Friends? Level X, Z or J? English or French? Those are only a few of the places a book, CD or DVD might go. The variety makes the job a bit more interesting, and while you're shelving, you become more conversant in children's lit.

More importantly, you become familiar with the kids. Kids, kids, kids, and lots of them, along with their parents, grandparents or other caregivers. As a page, you're out on the floor and in the stacks, accessible and approachable. People are much more apt to ask a page a question than they are to approach someone sitting behind the desk. I'm not supposed to answer complex reference questions. If someone says, for example, they need books for a project on global warming, I listen, then say, "Sure, no problem. Let's go ask at the desk." I escort the child or parent to the front desk, and give a little intro, so the patron doesn't have to ask twice. "Jason, could you help this young lady find books about global warming?"

But pages are authorized to answer simple directional questions, and I answer a dozen or more on every shift. Where is Harry Potter? Do you have any Geronimo Stilton? Where is Diary of A Wimpy Kid? Being a page is a great way to see what kids are reading. I also learn how young people ask questions - what they say and don't say. In iSchool-speak, I observe our young patrons' informational needs and information-seeking behaviour.

Being a page has been all about observing. I'm seeing, for the first time, how a library runs, a backstage view I've never had. I'm observing librarians who are models for the kind of work I want to do. And of course, I'm meeting people who might one day be interviewing me for a better job. The incentive to do well is very high!

So what have I learned, what news can I bring from the front? Children's librarianship is largely about two things: collection development and programming. Programming is paramount, not only for youth, but especially for youth. Storytime, Lego Club, Robotics Club, Welcome to Canada, holiday events... the list goes on and on. This, I believe, is the principal way our LIS education fails us. A graduate of our program who is now a branch manager at MLS once said to me, "I spend 75% of my time on programming, either planning or implementing or both. How much programming did I learn about in library school? None."

If you think you want to be a children's or young-adult librarian, I highly recommend working around kids, either as a volunteer or through paid employment if you can find it. Many people theoretically want to work with children, but the reality may be much different than we imagine. There's a lot of noise and chaos; staff is always seeking a balance between letting kids be kids and keeping in check behaviour best suited to a playground. Programming takes a lot of energy, and there isn't always enough. If it turns out children's librarianship is not for you, that's a bullet dodged. But if, like me, you find it's exactly what you're looking for, you'll be building your new career as you learn.

On my blog, "we move to canada", I posted the top 10 reasons I love working as a children's library page. You can read them here.

--contributed by Laura Kaminker, CYA member

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Book Review: My Name is Elizabeth!

Dunklee, Annika. My Name is Elizabeth!. Illus. Matthew Forsythe. Toronto: Kids Can Press Ltd., 2011.



My Name is Elizabeth! is a lovely and whimsically illustrated story about Elizabeth – a little girl with a long name and a big voice. She doesn’t like it when people give her nicknames, especially since her name is so fun to say and used to belong to a queen! So, one day, Elizabeth resolves to make sure people understand that her name is in fact E-L-I-Z-A-B-E-T-H.

Dunklee’s story is charmingly written. Elizabeth is a strong, independent, and intelligent young girl who makes a terrific role model for a younger audience. She is determined without being impolite or unpleasant, and from beginning to end she is a truly likeable character. Matthew Forsythe’s illustrations are fun and fanciful, and will likely lead every young girl to beg her parents for a pet duck sometime in the near future.

The book’s audience is wider than its title might suggest; Elizabeth’s plight speaks broadly to young girls near and far, regardless of their name (though I’m sure that any young girl named Elizabeth would be thrilled to receive this as a birthday present). My Name is Elizabeth is a thoroughly enjoyable read and will delight young girls, whether or not they are in favour of nicknames, for many years to come.

-contributed by Laura Chadwick, CYA member

Sunday, January 15, 2012

Book Review: Binky Under Pressure


Spires, Ashley. Binky Under Pressure. Toronto: Kids Can Press Ltd., 2011.


When presented with a stack of newly published children’s books donated to the CYA, I was elated to find Binky Under Pressure among the lot.  Who could resist this adorable little space kitty?  Binky Under Pressure is Ashley Spires’ charming third contribution to her Binky Adventure series.  In this story, Binky the Space Cat, certified member of F.U.R.S.T. (Felines of the Universe Ready for Space Travel), meets a new kitty, Gracie, that his humans have taken in for adoption.  Binky knows that Gracie isn’t just a normal, everyday Space Cat like himself, but he can’t quite put his paw on what’s different about her. All he knows is that he has to figure out why she’s in his house/terrestrial space station and, more importantly, how to make her leave!
Spires book reads like a graphic novel, complete with her own very charismatic illustrations.  These set the book apart from other more traditional children’s picture books, and draw the reader in immediately with their variously sized frames and dusky palette.  The style of the book will certainly appeal to the 7-10 age bracket for which the book is intended.  As always, Binky is irresistibly funny, and Spires’ deadpan humour combines with her obvious love of cats (not to mention her intense dislike of wasps and bees) to bring the feline protagonists alive, and make the reader question what their own little fuzzbutts at home are really thinking.  Binky Under Pressure is a perfect treat and would be a welcome addition to any childhood library.
-Laura Chadwick, CYA Member