EMILY AND CARLO by Marty Rhodes Figley

Figley, Marty Rhodes. Emily and Carlo. Illus. Catherine Stock. Watertown: Charlesbridge, 2012. ISBN: 978-1-58089-274-2. $15.95

Emily and Carlo is the story of a shy, smart young woman and her closest companion. It begins in 1849 in Amherst, Massachusetts, where sad Emily is given a large, black Newfoundland puppy. Emily names the dog Carlo, and with him "by her side, Emily [has] the confidence to explore the world around them." In fact, Emily takes Carlo everywhere and, during the sixteen years she is accompanied by her "shaggy ally," they are only apart for a few months when Emily has to go to the city for health reasons. The time does come, though, when Carlo can no longer be there. Following his death, Emily writes a heartbreakingly short letter:

Carlo died.
E. Dickinson
Would you instruct me now?

As a dog-lover and someone who has been closely accompanied by my own "shaggy ally" of nine years, Romeo, this story deeply resonated with me. The text itself is carefully thought out; Marty Figley has aptly integrated historical research, quotes from Emily Dickinson's own material (indicated by italics), and a bit of creative imagination to construct a memorable read. My enjoyment was only furthered by Catherine Stock's beautiful watercolor illustrations. There is a lovely combination and interplay of closely detailed work and broad, pastel, splashes of color. This book might seem light and whimsical, yet it adds substantive value to an aspect of Emily Dickinson that I was not aware of. This is an excellent early introduction that makes a complex and often mysterious author that much more identifiable for readers.

Stephanie Ashley

EDDIE: THE LOST YOUTH OF EDGAR ALLAN POE by Scott Gustafson

Gustafson, Scott. Eddie: the Lost Youth of Edgar Allan Poe. New York: Simon & Schuster, 2011. ISBN: 978-1416997641.

Young Eddie wakes up one morning in the middle of his neighbor's yard, but the fact that he was sleepwalking is the least of his problems. He's been accused of playing a wild practical joke on his neighbor's prized rooster, who's been caught in a pillowcase with Eddie's cat and suspended up high from the barn! His foster parents don't believe in his innocence, but Eddie is granted a single day to solve this mystery and exonerate himself, or else suffer the consequences of punishment.

The first major appeal is the subject itself: Edgar Allan Poe, or specifically his youth and the mythical origins of his legendary status as the "Master of the Macabre." The basics of Poe's background are all introduced here. Gustafson manages to introduce the adult Poe as a haunted but sympathetic soul, animating the ghosts that swirl around his consciousness and give rise to his epic tales. He then moves into Poe's childhood, and in a stroke of superb creativity, tells us that the father who abandoned him and his siblings as children did leave his troubling legacy with Eddie, in the form of an mischievous imp aptly named "McCobber." McCobber and a friendly Raven become Eddie's two only friends in his youth, and help him solve the immediate puzzle that the book revolves around.

Gustafson's first book, Eddie is written with a distinct precision to highlight the time period these characters live in but remains accessible and enjoyable, with an overarching kind narrative voice that carries the story along. I think Gustafson uses enough historical fact woven with imaginative flair to create this charming mystery and possibly whet a child's appetite to know more about Poe. An observant reader will also pick up on the subtle portrayals of class difference, between wealth and race.

The story itself is enough to captivate a young reader (a true mystery of strange proportions) but the illustrations are what ensnared me. Gustafson's exquisite illustrations are imbued with detail and emotion, capturing the dark undertones of Edgar Allan Poe's life and paranormal proclivity. The use of pencil alone to create these striking black and white drawings allows the shadows to stand out and truly haunt the reader throughout the story. Yet Gustafson makes sure to portray kindness wherever it exists as well, so a young reader should never feel too anxious. Overall, it's a well crafted tale about a logical, mature, and sensitive young protagonist instilled with a generous dose of the mystical imagination.

Reviewed by Alya Hameed

THE GREAT SHEEP SHENANIGANS by Peter Bently

Bently, Peter. Illus. Mei Matsuoka. The Great Sheep Shenanigans. Minneapolis: Andersen Press USA, 2012.  ISBN: 978-0-7613-8990-3 Price: $16.95. Ages: 4-9 (Everyone)

You know that story you want to tell? When you just want to share something silly with someone else? Well, that's what I found myself wishing as I turned the pages of The Great Sheep Shenanigans. I had planned just a quick glance at the book before I rushed home, but after I met Lou Pine and Rambo the Ram there was no putting it down. In fact, I was so drawn in by the story that I kept reading it as I stumbled across campus. Whenever I passed someone along the way, I wanted to pull them aside and say, "Look, you've got to check this out!" When I got home I found that my roommate was having a tough time. What the heck? Why not?  "Here, read this—it'll make you feel better," I said and handed her The Great Sheep Shenanigans. Before she knew it, we were both laughing.

The story centers around a wolf, Lou Pine, who has decided he's going to do whatever it takes to eat some sheep. This mission, however, becomes far more difficult—and dangerous—than Lou ever planned. After meeting Rambo the Ram, who tells him to scram, he's thwarted at every turn. While each fiasco Lou finds himself facing is funny, we probably laughed hardest at Lou Pine's unfortunate encounter with Ma Watson who is "the best shot in town."  Then again, there's also something to be said for a wolf clothed in pink cotton candy or the rest of the assorted disguises Lou Pine tries out. Does the story end the way it should? Well, that all depends on your perspective, and I'll let you decide that.

I cannot stress the superb collaboration between Peter Bently and Mei Matsuoka. Yes, the text and illustrations are solid on their own. In fact, my father enjoyed the cotton-candy scene I read to him over the phone (yes, as you can tell, I really like this book). At the same time, the frames documenting Lou Pine's cotton-candy catastrophe are quite entertaining—even if there was no text. Bring both together, though? Now that is a thing of beauty. As much as I describe this, or you try to imagine, there's nothing like almost singing along to the playful end-rhyme or looking at the actual page where Lou Pine crashes into Rambo the Ram. This is a book that you will enjoy reading to your child as well as a book that your child will enjoy reading to herself or himself.

Reviewed by Stephanie Ashley

THE LIST by Siobhan Vivian

Vivian, Siobhan. The List. New York: Push, 2012. ISBN: 978-0545169172. 

On the last Monday in September, the students of Mount Washington High School will see copies of a certain list posted all over the school. It happens every year. It's unavoidable. It's a lottery of the ugliest and prettiest girls in the school, naming one of each category for each grade, 9th through 12th. The list is cruel but official, with a Mount Washington seal imprinted in the corner. Nobody knows who has the seal, or how it is passed down through the generations of list creators. But everybody knows that the notarized list will shape the school year for eight girls.

Siobhan Vivian's young adult novel takes on the volatile world of high school and shows how vicious it can be. The story follows the perspectives of the eight girls who were named on the most recent list, showing how each girl deals with what is either a great boost for popularity (for the prettiest) or a black mark of undesirability (for the ugliest).

Vivian explores the emotional complexities that accompany unrequested notoriety. The winners of Prettiest are flattered, but also cautious, and subconsciously aware that being pretty doesn't really matter all that much. Margot, the senior winner, is unnerved by the knowledge that her sister's "victory" the year before actually caused her to lose friends and retreat from the social strata, and she is also anxious about her unresolved history with her Ugly counterpart. Bridget, the junior prettiest girl, battles with an eating disorder -- one that caused the weight loss that got her recognized. Sophomore prettiest Lauren is new in town, still sheltered after being homeschooled, and she doesn't quite know how to handle the newfound attention she attracts. Finally, Abby, the prettiest freshman girl and a less-than-stellar student, struggles with conflicting feelings of insecurity and superiority, especially since her plain and academically brilliant older sister starts to give her the cold shoulder.

The emotional repercussions for the "ugliest" girls are expectedly severe. The senior, Jennifer, has made the list as ugliest for the fourth year in a row, and she longs to buck expectations as she tries to embrace her "ugliest girl in school" status. Junior Sarah reacts by making herself as ugly as possible, not showering and not changing clothes, to the detriment of her relationship with someone who thinks she's beautiful. Sophomore Candace, pretty and popular on the surface, is alienated by her friends and must address the fact that no one actually likes her as a person. In the freshman class, athletic swimmer Danielle is nicknamed "Dan the Man" and is ostracized by her own boyfriend.

The List alternates between the girls' perspectives chapter-by-chapter, examining their interactions with each other, showing the unexpected alliances that form in the face of rejection, and teasing out the mystery of who writes the list each year.

The characters face their insecurities with varying degrees of success. The "ugly" girls come a longer way than the "pretty" girls in mature self-actualization, but some need more help than others. With its flawed characters, The List demonstrates that beauty isn't a free pass for an easy high school experience, and that what's going on beneath the surface is far more important than appearances.

With so many perspectives to toggle through, it's understandable that not every character's situation is fully explored. That said, I would like to have seen more intricacy in junior Bridget's storyline; her experience with an eating disorder was a little too simplistic. Such a complex, painful affliction is difficult to tackle in spurts like Vivian does throughout The List, and Bridget's internal monologue fell flat for me. Covering a character's internal battle with thoughts of "I'm healthy! Just eat! But I mustn't eat!" just doesn't illuminate the psychologically damaging aspects of that kind of struggle. I applaud Vivian for giving her characters genuine real-life issues and examining how those challenges are colored and complicated by high school peers, but I wanted a little more from this particular storyline.

Overall, The List does an excellent job of illustrating a high school battleground and the relationships therein. Not every character gets a happy ending or has an epiphany, but each girl's experience of growth and self-reflection is drawn in a realistic, thought-provoking way.

Reviewed by Jill Coste

THE GIRL WHO OWNED A CITY by O.T. Nelson

Nelson, O.T. The Girl Who Owned A City. Adapted by Dan Jolley, Illus. Joelle Jones & Jen Manley Lee. Minneapolis, MN: Graphic Universe, 2012. ISBN: 978-0-7613-5634-9. $9.95. Graphic Novel, Ages 11-15.

When a virus strikes and kills all the humans older than twelve, it’s the kids who survive. But without any grownups to tell them what to do, chaos ensues! This classic novel, adapted as a graphic novel, challenges its young characters to recreate an adult world without any guidance.

The novel raises some very interesting social, philosophical, and political issues. The kids make decisions in times of crisis, and the novel shows both the “good paths” and the “bad paths” that young adults choose. As society devolves, Lisa forms a co-op of neighborhood kids (“Glenbard”) who work together to keep one another fed, sheltered, and alive. Logan, on the other hand, forms a gang to bully others into giving them supplies and sustenance. Over time, as “her city” grows and evolves, Lisa feels the heavy burden of responsibility. She says to her younger brother, “Sometimes I feel like the whole place will fall down if I don’t keep track of everything”—a lesson many adults learn for the first time at work, but one that would be familiar to oldest siblings with absent parents, or other similar situations.

Lisa even goes so far as to question whether the struggle is worth it, or if they’d be better off as robots. Her brother says, “Y’know what? If we were robots, we wouldn’t need food…wish I were a robot.” Lisa considers his comment, and responds:

“What fun would it be if we were robots…if everything was automatic and we couldn’t change anything? Just think of a robot, Todd. It can’t feel or choose or gain or lose. It can’t think. It doesn’t even know it exists. Sure, we have a lot of problems right now, but problems are really challenges…and they can make life more exciting if you’re not afraid. I’m proud of how we’re surviving.”

That’s some pretty impressive thought put in the voice of an eleven-year-old character and her younger brother. Not only do characters like this give kids a lot of positive credit (they’re capable of more than we adults usually attribute), it exposes young readers to complex ideas: How do we know we exist? What does it mean to exist in a sensory world? Why do we exist? Does thinking make us exist? Does trial and struggle prove our existence?

The adaptation also has subtle political messages. Todd asks Lisa early in the story why they can’t simply share with their neighbors, and Lisa responds, “If we just gave away the good things we’d worked for…well, what good would it do?” In saying this, Lisa hints at capitalist ideas of working for a reward, for a wage. Later on, she says, “Our freedom is more important than sharing,” again espousing a capitalist model of leadership and governance. But in dealing with the idea of Glenbard being “her city,” Lisa turns slightly more leftist, pondering whether “maybe a city is owned by the people who live there.” Still wanting to hold on to the idea that the co-op she constructed and led belongs to her, however, she asks, “Will it be selfish for Craig to own his farm and his own crops? Why should this [her city] be any different?” Individual property ownership ultimately rules when the occupants of Glenbard cheer for her return and she acknowledges that the fortress is indeed hers: “It’s my city, after all.”

The story leaves readers with a lot to imagine and much to mull over. The graphic novel form revives an older story, making it relevant and accessible for a young audience.

Reviewed by Marisa Behan