I read six books back in March:
A Wrinkle in Time, by Madeleine L’Engle
Twelve year-old Meg Murry, awkward, self-doubting, and truculent, lives with her beautiful scientist mother, her unremarkable twin brothers, and her brilliant little brother Charles Wallace, who many people make unkind assumptions about. She does not live with her scientist father, because he has disappeared off the face of the earth. Quite literally, but Meg doesn’t yet know that. It takes the intervention of three otherworldly guides, Mrs. Who, Mrs. Which, and Mrs. Whatsit, to elucidate the situation and then tesser Meg, Charles Wallace, and Meg’s schoolmate Calvin off into space for an impromptu rescue mission. But when Charles Wallace goes up against the Borg-like It and loses, it’s up to his big sister to figure out how to bring him home.
This was one of my favorite books growing up, but it had been a good while since I last read it and I wanted to refamiliarize myself with it before the film version came out. I’d remembered a lot of it (the plot, the interplay of religion and science, the tension between self-reliance and community, and the war between good and evil that goes on at both a macro and micro level in the cosmos), but there were a couple details I didn’t remember (whether due to it being a different era, to my now being an adult, or to the softening of time, I cannot say):
- Mr. Murry is kind of a jerk.
- There’s a lot of casual name calling in the book.
Other than that, though, the book stood the test of time and I will reread it again someday. In the meantime, I leave you with my favorite exchange of the novel, which was cut from the film:
“In your language you have a form of poetry called the sonnet. … It is a very strict form of poetry, is it not? … There are fourteen lines, I believe all in iambic pentameter. That’s a very strict rhythm or meter, yes? … And each line has to end with a rigid rhyme pattern. And if the poet does not do it exactly this way, it is not a sonnet, is it? … But within this strict form the poet has complete freedom to say whatever he wants, doesn’t he?” [says Mrs. Whatsit.]
“You mean you’re comparing our lives to a sonnet? A strict form, but freedom within it?” [says Calvin.]
“Yes,” Mrs. Whatsit said. “You’re given the form, but you have to write the sonnet yourself. What you say is completely up to you.”
A pretty freeing way to look at life, if you ask me.
Pages: 245. Personal copy.
The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street, by Karina Yan Glaser
The five Vanderbeeker siblings live with their parents on the first two floors of a Harlem brownstone. Two floors up lives their landlord, the cranky, reclusive Mr. Biederman, who has just informed their family, mere days before Christmas, that their lease has not been extended into January. While their parents hunt for new lodgings, the kids take matters into their own hands of figuring out how to change their landlord’s mind before it’s too late. Echoing the Penderwicks and novel families of yesteryear, such as the Moffats, the Melendys, and even the Fossils, the Vanderbeekers experience a certain amount of freedom that seems not especially realistic in this era — the ability to wander the neighborhood without an adult particularly stands out — but that could be explained by the tight-knit Harlem community in which the family resides (you’re never really on your own if everyone knows who you are). Less unrealistic seems the desire for children to try to fix a housing/financial problem that they’ve become aware of, particularly when they feel that their mere existence seems to be the thing that has prejudiced their landlord against the family. Those same neighbors eventually each reveal clues that help the Vanderbeekers piece together the mystery of their landlord’s seeming hatred of them.
A charming story and the first in a new series I think will delight children for years to come.
Pages: 297. Library copy.
All’s Faire in Middle School, by Victoria Jamieson
In this graphic novel from the author of Roller Girl, Imogene, known as Impy, is a Florida pre-teen about to leave behind the world of homeschooling to tackle her own personal quest — attending public school. Raised by parents who work at the Renaissance Faire and surrounded by the tight-knit community of those who help run it, Impy aspires to be a knight and is about to begin her training as a squire when she embarks on the adventure of discovering how to exist in an equally singular environment — middle school — where she tries to befriend a set of girls whose own upbringing does not include shopping at thrift stores, living in a small apartment, or dressing up in costume on the weekend — or, one could argue, living their own authentic lives. But when Impy commits a series of small transgressions in order to fit in, and then some larger transgressions that result in disciplinary action at school and at home, she has to figure out her priorities and how to be true to the person (and knight) she wants to become.
A solid read for the upper elementary set and for anyone struggling with that desire to fit in and make friends. If you like Shannon Hale’s Real Friends or Raina Telgemeier’s books, or are looking for the next step up from the Babymouse series, this might be a good choice.
Pages: 248. Library copy.
“The Shell Game,” by Janet Evanovich and Lee Goldberg
This is a short story in the Fox and O’Hare heist series that shares the first interactions between eager FBI rookie Kate O’Hare and world-class thief Nick Fox, who even then was a wanted criminal, but one whose face was unknown to law enforcement. The series is sweet and funny and eye-rollingly cheesy and the story holds true to all that. If you enjoy the series, it’s worth seeking out (I think it’s only available digitally), but no one will miss out on anything crucial.
Pages: 29. Audiobook; listened via library’s Overdrive copy.
Pashmina, by Nidhi Chanani
In this beautifully illustrated graphic novel, Priyanka Das is facing some changes in her life. While she’s getting compliments about her artwork at school, she’s just not confident about her abilities as an artist. Her beloved uncle is expecting a baby and won’t be able to spend as much time with her. Her mother refuses to answer Pri’s questions about why she left India or anything to do with her father. When she makes an unkind wish that seems about to come true, she wraps a shawl she discovers in her mother’s old suitcase around her, seeking comfort. Instead, she is greeted by embodiments of Indian gods in a technicolor world that she knows to be India. Eventually (after she continues to experience these visions), she convinces her mother to send her to meet her aunt back in India, where the mysteries of her visions, the realities of a country (and a family) that are familiar but unknown, and some of the secrets her mother left behind are revealed.
I liked, but didn’t love, this story of a girl’s attempt to reconcile her own culture with her mother’s in an attempt to learn more about her place in the world.
Pages: 176. Library copy.
A Gentleman in Moscow, by Amor Towles
In 1922 Moscow, Count Alexander Ilyich Rostov is facing a trial for being an aristocrat. Having published a poem several years earlier that had been a rallying point for the Bolshevik uprising, he is spared the fates of many other “former persons” and is neither killed nor sent to the labor camps. Instead, he is sentenced to a lifetime of house arrest at the Metropol, the exclusive and famous (and real) hotel (think Russia’s version of The Ritz or the Waldorf Astoria) where he’s been staying. He is, of course, not allowed to stay on in his suite, but is relegated to a tiny attic room that had once been a servant’s quarters, reminiscent of A Little Princess. But the Count is a man of surprising depths and equanimity, and he figures out not only how to make the best of the situation, but how to thrive under it. He makes the acquaintance of a young girl living in the hotel (think a Soviet Eloise), befriends hotel staffers, and corresponds with a friend from growing up who is experiencing a certain amount of favor within the Party. Time passes: the Count takes a day job within the hotel, becomes friendly with a Party official who wants his assistance in understanding Western culture, and, most importantly, is sought out by the girl, now grown, who needs to leave her own young daughter with someone for a few weeks while following her recently exiled husband to Siberia. The Count now faces his biggest challenge to date — raising a child and doing it under the radar of a restrictive government.
The novel examines several decades of Soviet history, covering it from the unique microcosm of a single building and a singular individual. I regularly forgot I was reading a literary concoction, the history is so exquisitely attended to, but equally that does sometimes slow down the reading. Despite that (and maybe partly because of it), I highly recommended the book. I will definitely seek out Towles’ other work.
Pages: 462. Library copy.
Total pages read in March: 1,457