Eat, Read, and Be Mommy

The Gigantic Giant Goof-Up is the sequel to The Perilous Princess Plot, and I have to say, it’s delightful when a sequel actually lives up to expectations.  This one involves unfortunate wishes, a Holy snail, a young giant’s birthday party, a goat with the munchies, and a bona fide handsome prince.  Lavender is still dreaming unlikely dreams, Bonnet is still scared of quite the list of things, and Eliza is as down-to-earth as ever.  (It goes without saying that Gertrude is the goat with the munchies.)  This is a worthy follow-up to its predecessor, and I’m hoping Sarah Courtauld is far from done with the Old Tumbledown Farm!

I checked American Born Chinese out of the library during the tail end of my graphic novel experiments; I suspected it might be too old for my oldest, but the idea of it interested me, so I decided it was worth a try.  It didn’t take long to realize that my suspicions were correct–it’s WAY too old for my 9-year-old–but it was certainly interesting!

I came across Marion Roberts’ Sunny Side Up while looking for another novel by the same name (which happens more often than I should probably admit!).  I was immediately entertained by Sunny’s voice–she’s the 11-year-old narrator–but it took me a bit to decide that I also liked her.  She’s not perfect, and her view of life reminds me that my 9-year-old is going to be growing up a lot in the next two years, but despite the whirlwind of change she’s facing, Sunny keeps finding her way to the right decisions…sooner or later.  And she is facing quite the barrage of changes, by the way.  Her mother is looking to blend the two of them with her boyfriend’s family, which means Sunny will only be a part-time only child; her stepmom is very pregnant; her best friend is starting to be interested in boys in general (and one of Sunny’s least favorite boys in particular); and her long lost grandmother is trying to meet her.  I’m thinking it’s a tad old for my oldest–I’d look at 10 or 11 and up–but I’m glad I read it.  I did have to decipher some of the Australian references (if your child isn’t excellent at context cues, you might have to answer a question or two there), but even so, Sunny’s narrative style is compulsively readable.

I enjoyed this one.

When I checked The House at The End of Hope Street out of the library, it seemed like the perfect read.  For fans of Sarah Addison Allen?  Check.  A magical house where portraits of famous women speak to the inhabitants?  Bring it on.  And chocolate cake with lots of cream for breakfast?  Who couldn’t get behind that?  Upon reading it, however, I found the reality a bit different.  On the one hand, I loved the magical house, and Menna van Praag’s writing style is very readable.  On the other hand, the plot went to a bit of a different place than I expected.

The really interesting thing, however, is that it wasn’t the plot’s destination that bothered me significantly.  (For most of the book, the lesbian romance is only hinted at, but it does become prominent at the conclusion.)  Openly embracing a homosexual lifestyle is in direct opposition to my beliefs, yes, but I know not everyone shares those beliefs.  What bothered me far more was the nature of the problems all of the female protagonists seemed to be facing.  Affairs, dead-end (sexual) relationships, unrequited love, failure to recognize true love…I truly believe that relationships are incredibly important, but focusing all of the women’s problems around sexual relationships or romantic love oversimplifies both the female gender and life itself.  The solutions to some of the women’s problems don’t involve either of those things, but isn’t it a tad insulting to women to assume that their problems are, in a broad sense, all the same?

Sadly, I’m unable to be as precise and powerful in this review as I wanted to be; it happens when you finish a book on vacation and don’t get to review it until a couple of weeks (and several books) later.  The other criticism I can still support (without re-reading half the book) is van Praag’s characterization.  Most of the characters were decently drawn and interesting, but the villains in Alba’s life are lamentably one-dimensional.  They all have their one motivation or character trait that explains their subsequent actions; there doesn’t appear to be anything else to them.  Ultimately, then, as much as I did actually enjoy the book, I can’t see myself recommending it.  Once I started reading it, I couldn’t stop, but if I had it to do over again?  I probably wouldn’t start.  On the other hand, if I’d loved where the plot went, I’d likely feel differently.

I suppose that means that the decision is up to you.

I really ought to be reviewing The House at the End of Hope Street, which I finished more than a week ago.  I meant to on Wednesday, in fact.  I meant to again, today.  And yet…I’m still trying to work out exactly what I want to say about that one, and in the meantime, I finished reading Anya’s Ghost to see if it was suitable for my oldest.

It’s not.

It’s not a bad book, you understand.  I just looked at the description and thought “hey, interesting mystery!” instead of looking at the recommended age range and thinking “hmm, 12-17 or 7th grade and up…”  It’s a graphic novel about an unhappy girl who becomes friends with a ghost–and ultimately learns some surprising truths about herself.  I would almost classify it as horror, which is not at all my thing, but it’s really just a contemporary ghost story.  Anya was well-drawn (mostly figuratively, because I’m not really qualified to judge the literal aspect there!) and became far more likable during the course of the book, as her view of her world became a truer one.  There is some common high school bad behavior here, but nothing explicit or (sadly) shocking to today’s teens.  I wouldn’t mind my kids reading it in high school, since Anya comes to some valuable conclusions about some of that behavior; for now, however, back to the library it goes.

Bottom line?  If your latter junior high or high schooler likes graphic novels and/or ghost stories, it’s worth a look.  I would NOT give it to elementary schoolers–under any circumstances.

Greetings to my legions of devoted fans–have you missed me?

Seriously, though, I spent some lovely time in Idaho visiting my parents and my brother and his family, and now I’m trying to get my house back together, think about routines for the summer, and review the books I’ve finished in the last couple of weeks. (Although to be fair, I only finished a couple; I did, however, skim several more before giving them to my oldest, their primary audience!)  I’m starting with an easy one, because there are still unpacking and laundry and THINGS waiting for me to do…

I have to admit, I was wondering about Nathan Hale’s third Hazardous Tale–few people choose to write children’s books about the Donner Party, and it was clear from the title that he wasn’t going to shy away from the more gruesome parts of its history. Then again, as my friend Andrea pointed out, what better way to appeal to reluctant readers?  In any case, Donner Dinner Party is a worthy addition to the series.  I wouldn’t necessarily have chosen to paint James Reed as such a caricature, but Hale addresses that at the end; ultimately, I thought he did a pretty good job with the story.  There’s a lot of facepalming involved for adult readers, but that would be true of even a bare recitation of the facts, really.  I’m looking forward to seeing what my oldest thinks of it, because how would it be to read it not knowing how it’s going to turn out?

I’m expecting an interesting reaction to this one.

Now that school is officially out (and the girls’ dance recital is officially over!), I’m taking the next 10 days or so to spend time with family.  Happy Summer to you all, and I’ll see you mid-June!

Pretty sure I’ve had a mild case of food poisoning the last few days, which means I’m feeling extra tired, unmotivated, and determined to get to bed earlier tonight, which means that I’m bailing on both you and my terrifying sink full of dirty dishes in a rather embarrassing run-on sentence.

Sorry about that.

Last night I finished Consider the Blessings:  True Accounts of God’s Hand in Our Lives, by President Thomas S. Monson, and I found myself unexpectedly nostalgic.  I’ve been listening to Thomas S. Monson speak for–quite literally–my whole life, and he was my favorite speaker for a long time; I remember him sharing some of those same accounts in General Conference over the years.  (It’s possible that they move me more now than they did then, age and experience being what they are.)  It’s a pleasure to have so many of his stories in one collection.  Consider the Blessings is a gift book–the experiences generally run no more than 2-3 illustrated pages–but it’s the very best kind of gift book.

Consider reading it.

It look me a looonnngg time to read The Seasoning of a Chef:  My Journey from Diner to Ducasse and Beyond.  Food and cooking memoirs are totally my thing–I COULD NOT put Garlic and Sapphires down–but…

It’s a great premise (the subtitle sums it up pretty well) and it pulled me in at the beginning.  Psaltis’ diner-owning grandfather, the people who worked for him, and Psaltis’ own beginning mistakes make for an interesting start.  And the end, where he’s a well known chef looking for the right opportunity–that was interesting, too.  As for the middle?  Psaltis spends it working in this, that, and the other restaurant, learning this, that, and the other from those restaurant’s chefs.  On his days off, he works for free at this, that, and the other restaurant, learning this, that, and the other from, well, you get the idea.  He doesn’t write much about the actual food, which I would have enjoyed, and his workaholic, extremely confident personality makes him seem sort of one dimensional.  I like to cook, and I waitressed for a year, but that wasn’t enough for me to feel like the book’s intended audience.  If you are in the industry, it would probably grab you more.  For me, well–I read the middle 140 pages 1-2 at a time (which is as much time as I can sometimes steal for myself in the bathroom), and that worked well.

You’ll have to decide what that means for you.