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: Counting by 7s

“Counting by 7s,” by Holly Goldberg Sloan. The Goodreads summary:

Willow Chance is a twelve-year-old genius, obsessed with nature and diagnosing medical conditions, who finds it comforting to count by 7s. It has never been easy for her to connect with anyone other than her adoptive parents, but that hasn’t kept her from leading a quietly happy life... until now.

Suddenly Willow’s world is tragically changed when her parents both die in a car crash, leaving her alone in a baffling world. The triumph of this book is that it is not a tragedy. This extraordinarily odd, but extraordinarily endearing, girl manages to push through her grief. Her journey to find a fascinatingly diverse and fully believable surrogate family is a joy and a revelation to read.

Okay, so I know in the summary it says that this book “is not a tragedy,” but still, going into it I was kinda expecting it to be exactly that. I mean, it says right there in the summary that her parents die in a car crash. But actually, the summary was right. It wasn’t a tragedy. Sad in parts, yes. Obviously. But more than that, I think this book was hopeful. Because although the death of Willow’s parents is a driving force in the book, it isn’t the only thing it’s about.

Instead, it’s about all kinds of good things, like finding somewhere to belong. It’s about the effect we have on others without knowing it, and how small acts of kindness can change everything. It’s about family—both the kind you’re born with and the kind you choose. It’s about how finding a new normal can be so, so hard but possible all the same. I kinda wanted to hug this book when I finished.

Willow . . . basically I want to adopt her. She’s a genius, and it colors her relationships with others and her reactions to the world around her, but it doesn’t make her emotionally distant at all. She’s kind and caring and such a good kid, despite all the hard things she has to go through. I loved her interest in medical conditions and in gardening, and those were the kinds of things that made her feel so real and accessible as a character.

I adored the other characters as well, even the ones I didn’t expect to in the beginning. I mean, Dell Duke is about as pathetic of a character as you can get at the start of the book. But if there’s one thing this book shows, it’s the power that comes from being needed and from other people having expectations of you.

Overall, it was a solid book. I don’t typically go for middle grade books, but this one was worth it. It had powerful lessons to teach, but it didn’t shove them down my throat, and I really appreciate it when a book respects my intelligence.

Rating: 4 / 5

Review: Plain Kate

Plain Kate, by Erin Bow. The GoodReads summary:

Plain Kate lives in a world of superstitions and curses, where a song can heal a wound and a shadow can work deep magic. When Kate's village falls on hard times - crops fail, and even Kate's father falls victim to a deadly fever - the townspeople look for someone to blame, and their eyes fall on Kate.

Enter Linay, a stranger with a proposition: In exchange for her shadow, he'll give Kate the means to escape the town that seems set to burn her, and what's more, he'll grant her heart's wish. It's a chance for her to start over, to find a home, a family, a place to belong. But Kate soon realizes that she can't live shadowless forever -- and that Linay's designs are darker than she ever dreamed.

I’m not usually much of one for middle-grade books. Admittedly, this was an older middle grade, but still, I thought at the beginning it wouldn’t end up being for me. Because middle grades don’t usually grab me—I don’t usually feel that level of investment and involvement that I want to feel when I read a book. And because this book takes a little while to get going, I thought it was going to stay that way, and honestly, if I hadn’t been reading this for book club, I probably wouldn’t have finished it.

But. Once I hit the part where Kate runs away with the Roamers (aka Gypsies), I was sucked in. Seriously. I hardly even came up for air. Because Kate has it rough. Every single time you think she might find a bit of happiness, it gets taken from her. But Kate is strong and Kate is resilient, and she overcomes. And I couldn’t help wanting to be with her every step of the way in hopes that by the end she’d finally, finally find a place to belong.

And here’s the other thing about this book: Taggle. I love cats. Everyone knows this. But Taggle takes cats to a whole new level. He’s loyal and fierce while still maintaining that haughty, disdainful bit of quintessential cat-ness. Plus, he can talk. And anyone who’s ever read “Sabriel,” by Garth Nix, knows that talking cats are a very good thing.

Overall, a strong book, once you get past the slow beginning. It’s not a happy book, even at the ending. I mean, it made me cry, which doesn’t happen that often. But it’s not depressing either—rather it’s a bittersweet that leaves you feeling that, like Kate, you’ve been on a journey and come out the stronger for it.

Rating: 4 / 5