Review: Up a Road Slowly

“Up a Road Slowly,” by Irene Hunt. The Goodread’s summary:

The Newbery Award-winning novel

From the author of Across Five Aprils and No Promises in the Windcomes her most beloved story of a girl's coming of age.

After her mother's death, Julie goes to live with Aunt Cordelia, a spinster schoolteacher, where she experiences many emotions and changes as she grows from seven to eighteen.

First of all, the copy I read didn’t actually have the cover above. But I saw this one on Goodreads and totally fell for it. I’m not usually big on ‘80s covers, but there’s something totally compelling about this cover and I found myself going back to it more than a few times. So I chose it for this post. Obviously.

As for the book itself, it was first published in 1966, and it shows. Like, you can definitely tell from the get go that not only does the story take place a while ago, but it’s definitely written in that young-adult style of the past. Do you know what I mean? To me, the stories and characters in most YAs from 20+ years ago feel more removed—like, the emotions feel more sugarcoated and distant or something. Anyway, while there’s nothing wrong with that style, it did take me a while to get into the book because of it. Everything just felt like I was seeing it through the haze of the years rather than living it with Julie.

And really, that could’ve been entirely deliberate on the author’s part, since the story is written as Julie looking back on her childhood and teenage years, which she spent living with her older, unmarried aunt. To me this story felt a bit like the “Anne of Green Gables” series. Nothing too crazy happens—rather it’s a year-by-year account of her growing up and the normal adolescent things, good and bad, that she goes through as she matures.

The story generally felt quaint and sweet, and I thought it would stay that way throughout. And it does, but towards the end, you get a few glimpses of Aunt Cordelia and Uncle Haskell that give them surprising but much needed depth. And I think that depth catches Julie herself off-guard a bit, as she’s used to seeing them through the eyes of her childhood rather than the eyes of a near-adult. And that depth towards the end made it all more satisfying than I think I would have found it otherwise.

Overall, a book that’s short and charming, if a little slow. If I had a 10- or 11-year-old daughter, I think this is the kind of book I’d want to read out loud with her.

Rating: 3 / 5

Review: Daddy-Long-Legs

Daddy-Long-Legs, by Jean Webster. The GoodReads summary:

A trustee of the John Grier orphanage has offered to send Judy Abbott to college. The only requirements are that she must write to him every month, and that she can never know who he is. Judy's life at college is a whirlwind of friends, classes, parties, and a growing friendship with the handsome Jervis Pendleton. With so much happening in her life, Judy can scarcely stop writing to the mysterious "Daddy-Long-Legs"!

This was a short, cute read. It’s written as a collection of letters from Judy to her anonymous benefactor over the four years she’s at college. Judy’s pretty hilarious, and the book made me wish I was more of a letter writer because her letters are so entertaining. Even though the book was written in 1912, it didn’t feel that old—it was very readable and accessible. Some of the things she talks about obviously date the story, but Judy’s narrative voice itself felt surprisingly modern, and if I was judging based on the style alone, I don’t think I’d ever guess that it was written over 100 years ago.

The story was fairly predictable, and I guessed what was going on behind the scenes pretty early on, but the predictability didn’t make the journey any less fun. I do feel indignant on Judy’s behalf for what I feel was some unfair manipulation, but I won’t go on about it as much as I’d like to because it would be too hard to avoid major spoilers. So I’ll just say that while my indignation over a few things was very real, it never made it to the point where I was ever seriously turned off from the book.

Overall, a light, fun story. It’s not exactly a book with hidden depth, but all the same, despite some issues I had with it, I enjoyed it quite a bit.

Rating: 3.5 / 5

Book Light Confessional: "Specimen Days"

One of the things I do for work is write articles about American military history. This means I do a lot of research both on the internet and in non-fiction books. Right now, I’m reading through Walt Whitman’s book “Specimen Days,” the first 40 percent or so of which deals with his life in Washington DC during the Civil War. I’ve never written about any of the books I’ve read for work on this blog before, just because this is a YA book blog generally, and I figure most people aren’t as fascinated by American military history as I am. But “Specimen Days” has proved to be something special, and I wanted to share it with you. So this is less a review, I guess, than a reflection.

I’ve researched dozens of articles on various Civil War topics since I started working this job, and over the course of writing them, I’ve come to view the war with an impartiality courtesy of the long lens of history. Battles and their casualties are facts and figures, the armies a faceless mass of blue or gray, and even amusing anecdotes don’t always seem to be about real people rather than characters in a book. But Whitman’s “Specimen Days” changed that for me. If in the past I looked at the war telescopically, trying to see the big picture, Whitman’s book has been like a magnifying glass, focusing my gaze on small, quiet moments that gently urge me to feel something about the war rather than just know something.

Much of “Speciman Days” recounts Whitman’s visits to the many military hospitals in Washington, where he did his best to distract injured and sick soldiers from the pain and monotony of hospital life. He wrote letters for them to their loved ones, distributed fruit and sweets, and most of all, spent countless hours simply talking with them. And while Whitman never goes into extensive detail about his experiences, somehow his brief observations manage to show me the war in a way I’ve never seen it before. Like this short passage, for instance, which describes a young hospitalized Wisconsin soldier who is near death due to a hemorrhage: “The poor young man is struggling painfully for breath, his great dark eyes with a glaze already upon them, and the choking faint but audible in his throat. An attendant sits by him, and will not leave him till the last; yet little or nothing can be done. He will die here in an hour or two, without the presence of kith or kin. Meantime the ordinary chat and business of the ward a little way off goes on indifferently. Some of the inmates are laughing and joking, others are playing checkers or cards, others are reading, &c.”

Something about that image of one man dying virtually unnoticed while life goes on for the others around him struck me in a way that knowing the vast numbers of battlefield deaths never has. It’s in scenes like this that Whitman manages to make the war personal instead of just an interesting chapter in a history book. I look at the Civil War with 150 years of perspective, and from that vantage point, one dying soldier from Wisconsin doesn’t seem significant when viewed against the backdrop of an estimated 620,000–750,000 total war deaths. He’s just one drop in a rather depressing bucket. But Whitman, writing at the time of the soldier’s death or a few years after doesn’t have the benefit (or perhaps detriment) of that century and a half to consider whose deaths are relevant in the grand scheme of the war. Where I see the dying man as a statistic from a bygone era, Whitman sees an individual whose imminent death is still a raw reality to be grappled with. To Whitman, the death of this solitary unnamed lieutenant is significant, and seeing his death through Whitman’s eyes has shown me that the impartiality of my telescopic view isn’t the only—or even necessarily the best—way to view the war.

Sorry if I’ve gone on too long about this, but “Specimen Days” really made an impact on me. Obviously. If you are interested in the book, it can be found here. Or if you’re not up for the whole book, one of my favorite passages is this one.

Review: I Capture the Castle

I Capture the Castle, by Dodie Smith. The GoodReads summary:

I Capture the Castle tells the story of seventeen-year-old Cassandra and her family, who live in not-so-genteel poverty in a ramshackle old English castle. Here she strives, over six turbulent months, to hone her writing skills. She fills three notebooks with sharply funny yet poignant entries. Her journals candidly chronicle the great changes that take place within the castle's walls, and her own first descent into love. By the time she pens her final entry, she has "captured the castle"--and the heart of the reader--in one of literature's most enchanting entertainments.

I read this book as a teenager, and I remember that I liked it, but recently when it came time to read it for book club, I realized I only had vague memories of what happens in it or what made me like it. Although I did remember two things quite clearly: I loved Cassandra, and I hated Simon. So with that in mind, I started off on my reread—though honestly, most of the time it was like I was reading it for the first time.

I fell in love with Cassandra at exactly the same place I did when I first read it: at the top of the second page. Cassandra is describing herself and she says, “I am seventeen, look younger, feel older.” That statement just so perfectly encapsulated how I felt my entire teenage life—that disparity between how others saw me and how I saw myself. That quote spoke to me then, and it still speaks to me now. Cassandra is quite insightful and observant and witty, and she made me grin constantly and even laugh out loud a few times. Which is not to say that Cassandra is perfect. I got so frustrated with her for the way she acts with Stephen, like his adoration of her is her rightful due and that she doesn’t have to think about how her actions affect him. I also got a bit tired of her constant whining and moping during the last quarter of the book. But I can forgive her all that because of how well she captures so much of what I felt growing up and because of how easy it is for me to relate to her.

I was kinda hoping that I was misremembering my disdain for Simon, and that this time around he would win me over. But he didn’t. I think the majority of why I didn’t like him when I first read the book was his creepy beard, but this time I thought that while he’s perfectly nice, he comes across as a bit too weak and boring for my taste. And I don’t like how he (spoiler) falls for Rose for her beauty and for who he thinks she is, rather than for who she really is. And I really can’t forgive him for kissing Cassandra when he’s engaged to Rose and then acting like it’s no big deal (end spoiler).

The ending was much better than I remembered it being the first time around. (Spoiler) I thought that the book ended with Simon and Cassandra getting together, but it doesn’t—it leaves it open. For most people that’s probably frustrating, but since I don’t like Simon, I was quite happy with it. Yes, the book ends with Cassandra still in love with him and with the possibility of them being together in the future, but the openness of the ending leaves room for me to believe that Cassandra will outgrow him eventually and find someone better—and if that someone just happens to be an older and wiser future Stephen, I wouldn’t mind a bit (end spoiler).

Overall, I was glad that when I finished the book this time, I liked it just as much as I did the first time I read it. Even a little more maybe, because I felt like I understood things that I missed before. It never ceases to amaze me how a book written in 1948 can speak to me so well 65 years later.

Rating: 4 / 5

Review: Persuasion

Persuasion, by Jane Austen. The GoodReads summary:

Twenty-seven-year old Anne Elliot is Austen's most adult heroine. Eight years before the story proper begins, she is happily betrothed to a naval officer, Frederick Wentworth, but she precipitously breaks off the engagement when persuaded by her friend Lady Russell that such a match is unworthy. The breakup produces in Anne a deep and long-lasting regret. When later Wentworth returns from sea a rich and successful captain, he finds Anne's family on the brink of financial ruin and his own sister a tenant in Kellynch Hall, the Elliot estate. All the tension of the novel revolves around one question: Will Anne and Wentworth be reunited in their love?

Yes, it’s true! I finally read “Persuasion.” As you may recall, I love the story and have watched the movies, but I’d never actually gotten around to reading the book. But no longer! I’ve cleared that hurdle and can hold my head high from here on out in conversations about this book.

But what did I think of it? Errr . . . I discovered it was really hard to read this book and not compare it to the movies. But I made a sincere effort to take this book on its own merits and not let my previous opinions influence me. So here are my main thoughts:

1. Jane Austen is going to kill me with her writing style. In all fairness, it’s not Jane Austen herself, it’s the time period. Really, compared to other authors I’ve read from that period, Austen’s breeze. But I kept wanting to yell at her to quit wasting time making witty observations on human character and tell the story already! And yes, I do realize that making witty observations on human character is what Austen’s known for, but I stopped caring about 5 pages in. I just wanted her to focus on the plot already.

2. Anne is a very . . . mellow . . . main character. I was expecting that going in, but I didn’t realize just how unexciting she is. And I don’t mean that in a bad way. I like Anne, I really do. I like that she’s thoughtful and kind and patient and selfless. But sometimes I wanted to grab her by her collar and tell her to stand up for herself. I appreciate her quiet strength, but I wanted her to show some not-so-quiet strength too.

3. Wentworth and Anne don’t have nearly enough conversations. I realize that the foundation of their relationship was built before this book began, but come on! They have, like, three conversations the entire book. It’s not like I think this makes their love superficial, but for my own gratification I just wanted them to TALK to each other instead of stare longingly. I also wanted them to go make out in the shrubberies, but I knew enough not to expect that to happen.

4. The last 20 pages make this book. As I neared the end, I was starting to doubt my love for “Persuasion” all these years. I was starting to think I should’ve actually read the book before declaring my undying love. But then I got to the last 20 pages, thank goodness. They saved the book for me. Partly because of Wentworth’s letter (uh, duh, it’s only the most romantic letter of all time), and partly because that’s when you get to find out what’s been going on in Wentworth’s head all this time. He’s been a mystery to the reader as well as to Anne up to that point, and frankly I was starting to doubt that he was worth Anne’s misery. But then it’s all explained, and I felt perfectly justified in allowing Wentworth back into my good graces.

So overall, while I didn't fall completely in love with this book like I wanted to, I ended up being happy enough with it in the end. I still think the story line of the book is the most romantic thing ever—it’s just the execution that I struggled with. And I’m okay with that.

Rating: 3.5 / 5 (Am I allowed to give a rating to a classic? Or is that some kind of sacrilege?)

Friday Favorites: To Kill a Mockingbird

On Fridays I post a little shout out to one of my favorite books and explain why I love it so much. It gives me the chance to fangirl over books I never reviewed on this blog and lets me post about some not necessarily YA books I love.

Which book?
To Kill a Mockingbird, by Harper Lee

Genre?
Fiction

Summary? (From GoodReads)
Harper Lee's Pulitzer Prize-winning masterwork of honor and injustice in the deep South--and the heroism of one man in the face of blind and violent hatred.

One of the best-loved stories of all time, To Kill a Mockingbird has been translated into more than forty languages, sold more than thirty million copies worldwide, served as the basis of an enormously popular motion picture, and was voted one of the best novels of the twentieth century by librarians across the country.

A gripping, heart-wrenching, and wholly remarkable tale of coming-of-age in a South poisoned by virulent prejudice, it views a world of great beauty and savage inequities through the eyes of a young girl, as her father--a crusading local lawyer--risks everything to defend a black man unjustly accused of a terrible crime.

When did I first read it?
Five years ago, I think.

Why did I first read it?
It was always one of those books that I’d heard about other people reading for school, but I was never assigned it, so I never read it in high school. But then I figured that I should see what all the hype was about, so in college I checked it out from the library. And discovered that all the hype is entirely, 100 percent merited.

What did I think about it then?
I fell in love with Scout immediately. She’s such a plucky little girl, so full of spunk, and I just loved her narrative voice. Then, as I got further and further into the story, I came to appreciate the plot too, and the message it was trying to get across. I was expecting the book to be all about racism, so I was intrigued to find that it’s also about growing up, family, friendship, and figuring out what you believe then standing up for it.

What do I think about it now?
I still adore this book so much, and I’ve reread it quite a few times. I just never get tired of Scout. And of course, there’s Atticus Finch, that epitome of a good man. I’m glad, though, that I read it when I was older and not when everyone else was being forced to read it for school. I think being forced to read this one would’ve ruined it for me—it would’ve taken away the wonder and the joy of discovering that this book was so much more than I anticipated.

Have you read this book? What did you think?

Friday Favorites: The Sun Also Rises

On Fridays I post a little shout out to one of my favorite books and explain why I love it so much. It gives me the chance to fangirl over books I never reviewed on this blog and lets me post about some not necessarily YA books I love.

Which book?
The Sun Also Rises, by Ernest Hemingway

Genre?
Classic

Summary? (From GoodReads)
The Sun Also Rises was Ernest Hemingway's first big novel, and immediately established Hemingway as one of the great prose stylists, and one of the preeminent writers of his time. It is also the book that encapsulates the angst of the post-World War I generation, known as the Lost Generation. This poignantly beautiful story of a group of American and English expatriates in Paris on an excursion to Pamplona represents a dramatic step forward for Hemingway's evolving style. Featuring Left Bank Paris in the 1920s and brutally realistic descriptions of bullfighting in Spain, the story is about the flamboyant Lady Brett Ashley and the hapless Jake Barnes. In an age of moral bankrupcy, spiritual dissolution, unrealized love, and vanishing illustions, this is the Lost Generation.

When did I first read it?
The summer after my freshman year of college

Why did I first read it?
I was working my way through the classics section of my local library and eventually made my way to this one.

What did I think about it then?
Hemingway’s writing style blew me away. He seriously ruined me for all other writers for, like, two years afterward. It’s so stark and beautiful and effective. Gah! I love it! I’d never read author with a style like that, so it was a revelation. Plus, I loved Jake, and I envied Lady Brett’s effortless awesomeness so much. I wasn’t necessarily a huge fan of the bull fighting, but I could overlook it. Basically, this book got me reading all of Hemingway’s other books, and then branching out to every other 1920s writer I could find.

What do I think about it now?
I’m still so in awe of Hemingway’s style. Even after all the books I’ve read, I’ve found very few whose style speaks to me like Hemingway’s. Which I don’t know why, because Hemingway’s so much of a man’s man, and I’m not typically big on that. Also, his books are all a little bit of a downer, which I also don’t usually go for, but in Hemingway’s case, I totally do. Anyway, I’m still a little in love with Jake, although that was ruined a bit when I helped my brother write an essay on the book and I realized that Jake’s kind of pathetic and really passive. But I still hold some lingering love in my heart for him. And due to Hemingway, the 1920s is still my favorite era of classic literature.

Have you read The Sun Also Rises or any other Hemingway book? What did you think?

Review: How Green Was My Valley

"How Green Was My Valley," by Richard Llewellyn. The summary:

"How Green Was My Valley" is Richard Llewellyn's bestselling--and timeless--classic and the basis of a beloved film. As Huw Morgan is about to leave home forever, he reminisces about the golden days of his youth when South Wales still prospered, when coal dust had not yet blackened the valley. Drawn simply and lovingly, with a crisp Welsh humor, Llewellyn's characters fight, love, laugh and cry, creating an indelible portrait of a people.

This is one of those books I've heard of all my life but never read. Mostly because I had no idea what it was about and because I was afraid that since it was a classic, it would be horribly depressing. But I decided to pick it up last time I was at the library. And I'm glad I did.

When I read the summary before I started the book, I was like, "Well, that's vague. It doesn't tell me anything about the book." But since finishing it, I can attest that's actually a fairly accurate summary. The book's a collection of Huw's memories from his youth, tied together by the backdrop of the rise of a coal miners' union in his town.

There's so much I want to talk about with this book, but I'll limit myself to two things. First, I LOVE the strength of Llewellyn's female characters, especially Huw's mother, Beth, and his sister-in-law Bronwen. As Huw tells story after story about growing up, the underlying current to almost all of them is the quiet power women have to hold the family together and to take the lot that's given them and make it something good. The scene where Huw's mother crashes a union meeting to take all those men to task for threatening her husband behind his back gave me shivers. And Bronwen--I love Bronwen. She provides Huw with constant love and support but takes him to task when he unintentionally, or intentionally, does or says things that he shouldn't. Like Huw says, "So Bronwen showed me more of the strength of woman, which is stronger than fists and muscles and male shoutings."

The second thing is the sheer beauty of the language of the book. It's full of Welsh rhythms and speech patterns, and wit as well as serious observations. I can't do it justice by describing it, so I'll give you my favorite part of the book, when Huw's sister gets her head stuck in the window:

Angharad put her head in the window and Davy pretended to punch, and she shouted because her head was fast in the small space and her hair falling about her, making it worse.

"Mr. Gruffydd is in the house," she shouted, and the boys trying to pull her head out. "Will you crack my skull, David Morgan?"

"Too hard," Davy said. "Only a girl would put her old head in such a little place. Is there a door or are you blind?"

"I was looking through the window, fool," Angharad said. "Would I see anything through a door?"

"Your nose will have you in the toils, young woman," my father said. "Break the window and take it from her pin money."

"O, Dada," Angharad said, trying to look through her hair, and trying hard to cry, but laughing instead, "there is nasty you are to me. These old boys can do what they like but we shall have nothing only hard words and take it from her pin money. Huw has had more punches than I have had for six weeks. I wish I had been born an old boy. I would have punches all day, indeed."

"Leave her there," my father said, "and let her think over what she has said."

So poor Angharad was left with her head in the window, trying to cry, but laughing instead, and Davy pinched her bottom as he passed, but he got such a kick that he was limping all night with him.

See? The language is just so amazing.

And one last thing I'll mention to recommend the book: it wasn't nearly as depressing as I thought it was going to be . . .

Rating: 4 / 5

Friday Favorites: The Secret Garden

On Fridays I post a little shout out to one of my favorite books and explain why I love it so much. It gives me the chance to fangirl over books I never reviewed on this blog and lets me post about some non-YA books I love.

Which book?
The Secret Garden, by Francis Hodgson Burnett

Genre?
Classic

Summary? (From GoodReads)
This timeless classic is a poignant tale of Mary, a lonely orphaned girl sent to a Yorkshire mansion at the edge of a vast lonely moor. At first, she is frightened by this gloomy place until she meets a local boy, Dickon, who's earned the trust of the moor's wild animals, the invalid Colin, an unhappy boy terrified of life, and a mysterious, abandoned garden...

When did I first read it?
Elementary school

Why did I first read it?
I have no idea. I have a vague memory of it being a book that one of my older sisters liked, and thus I wanted to read it too--but that could be a total lie because I don’t actually remember. I do remember that I read it before I ever saw the movie, because I remember thinking that the book and movie were totally different.

What did I think about it then?
I thought the beginning was boring and that Mary and Colin were slightly annoying. But the mystery of it all more than made up for it--what was the cry in the night? why was the garden walled up? what happened to Colin’s mother? Plus, I though Dickon was the BEST. He’s super friendly, and he’s BFFs with tons of animals, and I totally remember wishing I could have a moor pony as a pet. Also, the book made me want to start a garden and get a robin as a friend.

What do I think about it now?
Well, I still adore Dickon. And I love the Yorkshire (I think?) accent that Dickon and his whole family have--if I could have any accent, I think I’d pick that one cuz it’s just so ridiculously awesome. I haven’t reread it in a WHILE, but I still consider it one of my favorite books just because I read it so often when I was growing up.

Have you read The Secret Garden? What did you think?

Friday Favorites: Jane Eyre

On Fridays I post a little shout out to one of my favorite books and explain why I love it so much. It gives me the chance to fangirl over books I never reviewed on this blog and lets me post about some non-YA books I love.

Which book?
Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte

Genre?
Classic

Summary? (from GoodReads)
Orphaned into the household of her Aunt Reed at Gateshead, subject to the cruel regime at Lowood charity school, Jane Eyre nonetheless emerges unbroken in spirit and integrity. She takes up the post of governess at Thornfield, falls in love with Mr. Rochester, and discovers the impediment to their lawful marriage in a story that transcends melodrama to portray a woman's passionate search for a wider and richer life than Victorian society traditionally allowed. With a heroine full of yearning, the dangerous secrets she encounters, and the choices she finally makes, Charlotte Bronte's innovative and enduring romantic novel continues to engage and provoke readers...

When did I first read it?
High school

Why did I first read it?
I was on a classics kick in high school, so I worked my way through the classics section at my local library. Thus, I discovered Jane Eyre.

What did I think about it then?
I thought it was sooooo romantic. I hadn’t read a romance like it before--it was darker and more serious than Jane Austen and infinitely more challenging than the crappy selection of YA my library had. Plus, I really connected to Jane. She’s just an ordinary person, but she always does what she thinks is right no matter how hard it is.

What do I think about it now?
Now I think Mr. Rochester is a total jerk. Seriously. But I still love him, because Jane loves him. And I still adore this story--I adore it in all its forms: the book, the movies, the musical, the spin-offs . . . they’re all lovely. I just . . . really like Jane. She’s kinda one of my literary heroes. And I still think the romance is swoony. And the crazy wife in the attic only makes the book even better.

Friday Favorites: Little Women

So I’m going to try out something new and see how it goes. On Fridays I’m going to start posting a little shout out to one of my favorite books and explain why I love it so much. This will give me the chance to fangirl over books I never reviewed on this blog and let me post about some non-YA books I love.


Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott. The (really short!) GoodRead’s summary:

In picturesque nineteenth-century New England, tomboyish Jo, beautiful Meg, fragile Beth, and romantic Amy come of age while their father is off to war.

When did I first read it?
I read it for the first time in elementary school--probably around 4th or 5th grade.

Why did I first read it?
I don’t really remember. I think it was probably one of the books my teacher had in the classroom “library.” I seem to remember reading it at the same time as my friend.

What did I think about it then?
I loved it, and it became my favorite book up through high school. But I think at the time I liked it mostly because it made me feel smart. It was the first classic I’d read, and it made me feel superior to my classmates, who were reading Goosebumps or whatever. (I was way more of a book snob back then than I am now.) My favorite character was Jo--I felt like I could really relate to her, although now I’m not sure why, since I’ve realized since then that we’re not all that similar.

What do I think about it now?
I still adore this book, but I think it’s more of a nostalgic love than anything else. I mean, it’s been 10 or so years since I read it last. But despite the time that’s passed, there are still a bunch of scenes that I remember perfectly. In fact, this book was such a part of my reading identity growing up that I remember parts of the book practically as if they’re my own memories--like Amy falling through the ice, Jo taking Beth to the seaside, the girls playing Pilgrims Progress, etc. I’m kinda scared to reread this book actually, because I don’t think it could possibly live up to my memories of it.

Have you read “Little Women”? What did you think?

Review: Summer of My German Soldier

I’ll admit that I was totally wrong about what “Summer of My German Soldier,” by Bette Greene, was going to be about. Well, I mean, based on the title, I knew it was obviously going to be about summer and a German soldier. And the summary didn’t help clear up matters much. Here it is:

The summer that Patty Bergen turns twelve is a summer that will haunt her forever. When her small hometown in Arkansas becomes the site of a camp housing German prisoners during World War II, Patty learns what it means to open her heart. Even though she’s Jewish, she begins to see a prison escapee, Anton, not as a Nazi—but as a lonely, frightened young man with feelings not unlike her own, who understands and appreciates her in a way her parents never will. And Patty is willing to risk losing family, friends—even her freedom—for what has quickly become the most important part of her life.

So based on that summary, I was totally predicting this book was going to be soap-opera city. Girl falls madly in love with a German POW, but they can never be together because, hello, he’s a German POW. And to a certain extent, that is what the book was about. BUT it was also so much more. Way much more.

So first of all, since Patty is 12 and Anton (the POW) is 22, there isn’t any hard-core romance going on (thank goodness—that would be disturbing). This is Patty’s first love, and it’s innocent and pure and desire-free. And I’m pretty sure Anton just loves her as a sister. Hopefully. The book’s not really clear on Anton’s feelings, since it’s in first person from Patty’s perspective, but I’m guessing since Anton is such an awesome guy, he’s not going to be sketchily in love with a 12-year-old. And seriously, Anton is fantastic. He’s a German soldier who doesn’t want to be one because he’s a scholar—a med student actually. He’s polite and funny, and he sees Patty for the strong, beautiful girl she is.

But more important than Patty’s pseudo-romance with Anton, are her relationships with her family and with her housekeeper/nanny, Ruth. Her parents are not good people—her mother’s emotionally abusive, and her father is emotionally and physically abusive. And it’s hard to read about. Because the author doesn’t spare you the scenes where Patty’s dad beats her or where her mother needlessly criticizes her yet again. Patty’s only refuge is Ruth, and Ruth is even more fantastic than Anton. Because while Anton helps Patty feel better about herself for the few days he knows her, Ruth has spent years being everything to Patty—mother, friend, confidant, protector, advisor. Although Ruth is “just” the household help, she’s Patty’s real family. Ruth totally rocks, to put it mildly.

And Patty herself—there’s a girl who deserves more friends (and a better life, really) than she has. She’s curious and spunky and so, so resilient. She’s not perfect—she can lie like nobody’s business and is annoying at times—but, man, talk about a girl who can rise above her crappy circumstances. The book doesn’t have a tied-with-a-bow ending, but I’m okay with that, because hard books shouldn’t have easy endings anyway.

So, really, go read this book. It does take more than a bit of an emotional commitment, but it’s probably good to go through the emotional wringer once in a while.

Jacob Have I Loved

Okay, let me clear up something first, in case the title caused you the same confusion it did me when I started this book: there is no character named Jacob and there is no romance. As it turns out, the title is actually a reference to some bible passage that goes "Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated," which is fitting considering the book is about Louise, who lives her life in the shadow of her "perfect" twin sister Caroline.

Here's the summary (and yes, the copy I read did have this awesome '80s cover):

"Jacob have I loved, but Esau have I hated . . ." With her grandmother's taunt, Louise knew that she, like the biblical Esau, was the despised elder twin. Caroline, her selfish younger sister, was the one everyone loved.

Growing up on a tiny Chesapeake Bay island in the early 1940s, angry Louise reveals how Caroline robbed her of everything: her hopes for schooling, her friends, her mother, even her name. While everyone pampered Caroline, Wheeze (her sister's name for her) began to learn the ways of the watermen and the secrets of the island, especially of old Captain Wallace, who had mysteriously returned after fifty years. The war unexpectedly gave this independent girl a chance to fulfill her childish dream to work as a watermen alongside her father. But the dream did not satisfy the woman she was becoming. Alone and unsure, Louise began to fight her way to a place where Caroline could not reach.

Renowned author Katherine Paterson here chooses a little-known area off the Maryland shore as her setting for a fresh telling of the ancient story of an elder twin's lost birthright.

Man, oh man, is there a lot of teen angst going on in this book. Louise might possibly be one of the angsty-ist characters I've met in a while. Part of her angst is just normal teenage "Woe is me, my life sucks" feelings, but a really bitter part of it comes from her dislike, and sometimes hatred, of her sister. And to be honest, I alternated between sympathizing with Louise and just wanting to shake her and tell her to get over it. Because, yes, her sister is the favorite and she is more talented and hence gets more opportunities, but at the same time, I couldn't hate Caroline for it like Louise does. I mean, Caroline seems like a nice person generally, and she does try to reach out to Louise. But I can see how having a "perfect" sister would make Louise feel resentful and like she is somehow less than Caroline. And it does seem like a lot of Louise's bitterness and resentment for her sister stems from her own low self-esteem--she doesn't see anything in herself that can compare to Caroline.

But I'm happy to report that after some painful teenage years (that involve her falling in love with a 70-year-old man--yeah, that part is awkward), Louise does finally get a grip and grow up. And it's really all because of her mom, who basically gives her a fantastic "If you're not happy here, leave" speech. Here's my favorite part of it:

"You could have done anything, been anything you wanted."

"But I am what I wanted to be," she said, letting her arms fall to her sides. "I chose. No one made me become what I am."

"That's sickening," I said.

"I'm not ashamed of what I have made of my life."

"Well, just don't try to make me like you are," I said.

She smiled. "I can promise you I won't."

"I'm not going to rot here like Grandma. I'm going to get off this island and do something." I waited for her to stop me, but she just stood there. "You're not going to stop me, either."

"I wouldn't stop you," she said. "I didn't stop Caroline, and I certainly won't stop you."

"Oh, Caroline. Caroline's different. Everything's always been for Caroline. Caroline the delicate, the gifted, the beautiful. Of course, we must all sacrifice our lives to give her greatness to the world!"

Did I see her flinch, ever so slightly? "What do you want us to do for you, Louise?"

"Let me go. Let me leave!"

"Of course you may leave. You never said you wanted to leave."

And, oh, my blessed, she was right. All my dreams of leaving, but beneath them I was afraid to go.

I love Louise's mom, especially in this scene. She deals with Louise's freak out so calmly and deftly, and I want to hug her for it.

Anyway, my feelings about this book are a little mixed, but overall they're positive. I feel like if this book had been written recently instead of 30 years ago, I might've liked it a little better, just because the author would've been free to write about some things a little more openly and frankly. But yeah, overall I liked the book. It made me think, that's for sure, and I can't say that about very many of the books I read.