Review of Boneshaker by Kate Milford

Milford, Kate. The Boneshaker. Clarion, 2010.

I watched the movie The Polar Express for the first time just a couple of days ago and was astonished at its general eeriness. Quite apart from the motion capture animation technique, which created some odd facial expressions, there was a creepy, sinister feeling to the whole movie that I didn't expect. One scene, in which three children wander through an apparently deserted North Pole town, accompanied only by piped-in tinny Christmas music coming from invisible speakers, reminded me of the early 90s video game Myst. The children seemed to be in mortal peril throughout the film, and I think it would have terrified me as a child.

Boneshaker's creepiness was likewise a surprise to me; the illustrations, the 1914 Missouri setting, and the whole Medicine Show aura led me to expect a more folksy sort of fantasy, with the bad guys being perhaps a bit goofy.

But no! The men - or whatever they are - who come to Arcane, Missouri and set up Dr. Jake Limberleg's Nostrum Fair and Technological Medicine Show are truly evil creatures, with malice and mayhem on their minds. And there are other dodgy characters peopling Arcane as well, including a walking dead man (or something like that) who happens to be the town's richest inhabitant. And oh yes - there are demons, and while one of them is a bit comic, the other means business.

At the heart of the story is 13-year-old Natalie Minks, whose father is a mechanic and whose ill mother has a secret. Natalie doesn't trust Dr. Limberleg and the four "paragons" who help him run his medicine show, and she discovers that all is not as it seems. Somehow these "healers" are actually spreading a horrible disease instead, and only Natalie can stop them before they destroy her town - and maybe the whole world.

The Medicine show, with its tents and lights and strange steampunky contraptions and sinister inhabitants, is most of the important action takes place, and it's a terrifying place to be. As in Polar Express and Myst, it is a surreal setting, strangely silent and still except for unsettling jagged pieces of sound (jingling bells, clashing cymbals) and the feeling that something bad is about to happen.

The explanation of this scary medicine show, and much else besides, comes in fits and starts - mostly by overheard conversations and also by strange "memories" that Natalie experiences, a symptom of her emerging magical gift. This technique drags down the pace somewhat but doesn't detract from a story that becomes more creepy the more it unwinds. There are indeed some folksy bits - an ancient black man who tangled with the devil and managed to best him, for instance - and somehow the juxtaposition of these with the scalp-crawling elements make the whole thing even creepier.

It doesn't all hang together. The point of Natalie's unusual bicycle and the other mechanical elements is unclear to me, and the walking dead man's tale, which I'm betting is intriguing indeed, will apparently be told in a sequel (or at least it better be). The pacing is uneven and the role of Natalie's fellow townspeople is somewhat vague - what they know and how they know it isn't made clear.

Nevertheless, this is a fine and unique example of an American-style tale of the Devil, with our folk hero Clever Jack playing a cameo role. It's not something I'd hand to just any kid, as it's a complicated and scary tale, but it's quite a meaty and satisfying read. I'm looking forward to reading more about the strange town of Arcane, Missouri. For ages 11 to 14.

Just cluckin' away ("book book")

I was glad to see that Io9's post on Geeky Gifts for Kids included plenty of fine books, and that same fine site also pointed me to 5 Sci-Fi Children's Books (which aren't real but maybe should be for the jacket art alone - check out Goodnight Dune and Kirk and Spock Are Friends).

Although Betsy Bird's reports on publishers' librarian previews are always fun, I was particularly taken with her description of one book in the Simon and Schuster spring 2011 line-up, which uses the phrase, "I hear you cluckin', Big Chicken." I can't quite imagine uttering that to any of my bosses, but surely just thinking it will improve the day.

Even if you don't use bookplates (and I don't, since I mostly read library books), you may well be tempted to purchase some of these desirable Etsy creations, as chosen by Carolyn Kellogg of Jacket Copy.

I've been going back and forth about whether to buy an e-reader. An upcoming trip abroad had me considering the benefits of being able to carry travel books, a German/English dictionary, and any number of novels on one slim, light device. But on the other hand, I want to catch up on all the great children's and YA novels I've been stockpiling, and what better opportunity than that long, long flight? Better yet, I've been saving my ARCS, which I can leave behind as I read them (leaving room in my suitcase for souvenirs).

I'm sure I'll buy an e-reader sooner rather than later, though. A Kindle seems like the best bet, but it's frustrating that I won't be able to read Google books, much less library e-books. I'm telling ya, I'm used to getting my books for free! Anyway, I'm grateful that Bookshelves of Doom recently addressed the question of which e-reader to buy - check out the extremely helpful comments on her post.

pointy teeth

It brightened my morning to come across an interview with David Shannon in the Los Angeles Times. Although I disagree with the statement that "...Shannon bears little resemblance to the pointy-toothed, pug-faced troublemaker at the center of his much-loved series..." I kinda think he DOES look like that naughty David. See what I mean? (And check out the cake below)

It also gladdened my heart to read Amy (Ask Amy) Dickinson's suggestion that families start a new holiday tradition by leaving children wrapped books on their beds on Christmas morning or on any holiday. She's calling this campaign A Book On Every Bed.

Now if we can just get every influential person out there to delivery a similar message about the importance and joy of sharing books with children, the world will be a better place.

Review of Northward to the Moon by Polly Horvath

Horvath, Polly. Northward to the Moon. Schwartz & Wade Books, 2010.

This is the sequel to My One Hundred Adventures, which was one of my favorite books of 2008. Jane is now 13 years old or so, and is at the tail-end of a so-so year up in Canada, where her step-dad Ned has just been fired from his job as a French teacher (it took the school almost an entire school year to figure out that Ned can't speak any French) and in general, no one is very happy.

Therefore, it's excellent timing when Ned gets a phone call from some folks he knew for a brief time 20 years ago, setting the family off on a road trip that leads them to a mysterious bag of money and then to Ned's mom's horse ranch in Nevada. After Ned's mom has an accident, a bunch of Ned's sisters descend upon the ranch as well, and soon Jane is happily surrounded by new and strange relatives - and one alluring, if elusive, ranch hand named Ben.

Although it starts out as a road trip novel, the real meat of the story occurs at the ranch and is mostly about the mysterious and ever-fascinating nature of people and relationships. There is the frustrating riddle of her sister Maya's depression, the intriguing puzzle of how Ned's family functions (or doesn't), and of course the engrossing question of what goes on in Ben's mind and heart - since Ben doesn't ever say a word to Jane or even seem to notice her, Jane's imagination has full rein in this case.

Some main characters stay in the background (like Jane's mom and her two little brothers), while others receive much avid attention, and I think this reflects who Jane herself is thinking about. For example, her feelings about her step-dad keep changing as she goes from feeling like his side-kick (because they both love adventures) to feeling patronized and belittled when Ned offhandedly reveals Jane's feelings to Ben - and so we hear lots about Ned. Ned's sisters and mother are mostly vividly portrayed, and of course Jane worries quite a bit about her difficult sister Maya.

Although this didn't resonate with me in the same strong way that My One Hundred Adventures did, the strong writing, the novel but not too offbeat situation, and the imperfect, cranky, unpredictable characters make this book a pleasure to read.

And though none of Jane's questions (most notably who her father is) get answered, no matter. There will be a third book, as the last two sentences make clear. Jubilation!

My very favorite part of the Star Wars movies

I'm saving the very top of my holiday list for this most fabulous of geeky toys (thanks to io9 for the post). And do observe the similarity to the Walkers from the Leviathan series by Scott Westerfeld. Find more illustrations from the series here.

Swords and Swans

I went to see LA Opera's production of Lohengrin last Sunday, and I liked it quite a bit, despite its daunting length (over 4 hours) and the fact that Ben Heppner portrayed a hefty and weary-looking old Lohengrin, and not a young and dashing hero.

The music was gorgeous (and I did not know beforehand that "Here Comes the Bride..." comes from this opera), but it was the story that drew me in and kept me mesmerized. It was both too simple and too convoluted in that usual opera way, and altogether silly. And yet, at its heart it was a fantasy pure and simple - and you know how I love a fantasy. The costumes may have been blood-stained WWI uniforms, but the setting was a castle by the sea, and I could well imagine armor and gowns.

Lohengrin is based on Arthurian legends - apparently, he is the son of Parsifal, Knight of the Round Table and Keeper of the Holy Grail. (For a synopsis of the opera, which will tie my fingers in knots if I repeat it all for you here, see the Metropolitan Opera's succinct summary.) Arthurian legends are fascinating for the way they mix paganism and Christianity, magic and holiness. The Holy Grail itself makes for quite a wild story - even if you ignore all the Celtic/Arthurian bits, you've still got this magical cup, given to Joseph of Arimathea by Jesus, that provided Joseph with food and drink for 42 years! This reminds me of certain magical kettles, bags, and tablecloths that provide never-ending feasts.

Although Elsa is annoyingly passive and Lohengrin doesn't exhibit many heroic qualities (we have to take it on faith that he is a hero), Ortrud (played by the fabulous Dolora Zajick) is a vivid and fascinating character. She's a witch who, having finagled a marriage with Count Telramund of Brabant, is determined that her pagan gods (Wotan, Freya, et al) must once again come to power in Brabant and overthrow that wussy upstart religion called Christianity. Yes, she uses deceit and magic in her schemes - and yet, if this were a Norse myth, Ortrud would be a heroine of the first order. The world of her gods is disappearing fast and so she's desperately, bravely fighting back.

And she does score a victory of a sort. Lohengrin will only agree to marry Elsa and save Brabant from the invading Hungarians if Elsa will swear never to ask him who he is and where he comes from. Even his name is forbidden to her. Where have we heard this kind of ultimatum before? Don't ask me my name! Don't go into that room! Don't look behind you! For if you do, all is lost. Well, Ortrud manages to infect Elsa with enough niggling doubt ("what if this mysterious man isn't sent from God but is a sorcerer instead? I mean, he arrived on a swan-driven boat, for goodness' sake!") that Elsa can't even get through her marriage night without breaking down and begging Lohengrin to reveal his secrets.

Lohengrin reveals all but then departs back to his mystical heavenly realm, leaving behind some folks who are hugely irritated with the all-too-fallible Elsa. If only she could have trusted her man, had a little faith - because that's what those ultimatums are all about. And it's true that faith is necessary for both relationships and religion - but did Lohengrin give Elsa any real reason to trust him so utterly? She dreamed about him and he arrives, and everyone assumes he is there to rescue them and so are willing to give him the benefit of the doubt. But Elsa has to bear the full brunt of trust - and of course she ends up dying.

I don't think that Ortrud dies - but she doesn't get control of Brabant, either (because Elsa's brother, the heir to Brabant, is rescued by Lohengrin from his enchanted form. Yes, he was the swan!!). I like to think that Ortrud lives on to scheme on behalf of her beloved gods, against all odds.

clank and hiss

It's always lovely to have another good list of steampunk titles, like this one from Heather M. Campbell in the December School Library Journal.