Showing posts with label alcoholism. Show all posts
Showing posts with label alcoholism. Show all posts

April 24, 2023

Visions of the Crow (Dreams, Book 1)

Written by Wanda John-Kehewin
Illustrated by nicole marie burton
Lettering by Kielamel Sibal
HighWater Press (Portage & Main)
978-1-774920459
80 pp.
Ages 12+
April 2023 

Damon Quinn is a teen who is burdened with challenges that are not of his doing. His mother, Marnie, drinks and doesn't always ensure there's food in the house. At school, he's tormented by a bully Marcus who thinks it's clever to call him an Indian in the cupboard. And there's a crow that seems to be watching him. Damon meets Journey who comes to his defense, saying they should stick together even if he isn't fully Indigenous. When she calls him the Métis Crow Whisperer, he decides to ask his mother about his heritage.
From Visions of the Crow by Wanda John-Kehewin, illus. by nicole marie burton


Though Marnie has always been reluctant to talk about her family and Damon's, and she suggests he's better off without them, she reveals that she is Cree from Alberta, and his father was Métis. When she got pregnant at 17, she left her dysfunctional family on the reserve and she and his father moved to Vancouver. When Damon was four, his dad left to return to the reserve and made a new family with another woman.
From Visions of the Crow by Wanda John-Kehewin, illus. by nicole marie burton
Marnie recognizes that "sometimes when you run from things you run too far the other way" (pg. 21) and that maybe it would be beneficial for Damon to talk to someone. She suggests that this might be especially important to him after he has several visions that he doesn't understand, some when he's sleeping, others when he's awake, that place him in the time of his ancestors. Perhaps it's as he's been told, that the crow is a messenger from his ancestors that they are waiting to help him. 
 
Damon meets with a counsellor named Craig Ben Bolton who helps Damon see the meaning in his visions while also appearing in them. Damon sees his ancestors debating the signing of Treaty 6, juggling whether to starve or lose their land. He meets his great uncle who instructs him in honouring the drum. He witnesses the pain of his great-great-grandmother as a child at residential school. And while he learns about his family's past and Marnie becomes more forthcoming of her own history, Damon discovers the impact of intergenerational (a.k.a. transgenerational or historical) trauma on his mother and now him.
This trauma flows through the bloodlines and into you, Damon. (pg. 63)
From Visions of the Crow by Wanda John-Kehewin, illus. by nicole marie burton
Visions of the Crow is a powerful graphic novel of how the past is never in the past completely. Its impact can be far-reaching whether because of multigenerational trauma or through the learning of important lessons or passing on of cultural traditions or by framing who we are as individuals. And with visions that take him into the past experiences of his ancestors, Damon draws knowledge which can lead to healing and to growth for both Damon and his mother. As such, author Wanda John-Kehewin has made Visions of the Crow a story of family, albeit one that can go back generations and into the future. 
 
There is much darkness in Visions of the Crow and graphic artist nicole marie burton gives that shadow quality to their illustrations with their choice of palette and expressive characters that feel so much. There is much to feel in the story and art of Visions of the Crow and nicole marie burton's art takes us from a tenuous home situation to bullying at school and from anger at the unknown to the delicacy that comes from enlightenment, all while taking the reader from Damon's contemporary life into the past with ease.
 
Visions of the Crow is just the first book in this new graphic novel series–Damon's story continues in the second book, Visions From the Fire–and I anticipate more learning and healing to come for Damon and his family. Maybe it will come through surreal visions again or maybe through very real connection with living family but, whatever way Wanda John-Kehewin decides to take Damon's story, it will be forward.

January 25, 2022

Eight Days

Written by Teresa Toten
Scholastic Canada
978-1-4431-9002-2
312 pp.
Ages 10-14
January 2022

A lot can happen in eight days. Death, love, journeys and change. And, like it or not, it is what it is.

At almost 14, Sami Stanic has lived through a lot. Since she was three, she has lived with her grandfather Carl in the White Towers apartment building at Thorncliffe Park in Toronto. Carl is a recovering alcoholic, having stopped drinking when he brought Sami to live with him, and Sami is determined to keep it that way. She works at ensuring he stays sober by attending AA meetings with him and by keeping herself apprised of all the programs and readings, and she is determined to prove herself useful. In her own way, she does not want to be abandoned again. But, without knowing it, Sami has become part of the community, regardless of Carl's intolerance to the diverse community that is the Towers now. Her best friends are Nilofer and Tarek (also her crush) and there are lots of people watching out for her, though she doesn't realize it. So when she learns that her mother has died, a woman she'd always thought of as gone already, Sami is both perplexed and ashamed.
 
Within days, Sami, Carl and their neighbour Aggie are heading to Chicago in Carl's '77 Olds, affectionately known as Sophie, to deal with Shannon's funeral arrangements. But the journey becomes an opportunity for truths to finally emerge about all their stories: Sami's first few years, Shannon's issues, and Carl's despair. And their return to Canada may just be a new pilgrimage for all.

Teresa Toten may be better known for her extraordinary young adult novels (e.g., Beware That Girl, Shattered Glass, and The Unlikely Hero of Room 13B) but her voice shines just as brightly in this middle-grade novel. Perhaps it's because Teresa Toten has still focused her story on the foundation of most children's lives: their relationships. For Sami, it's her many relationships that drive her. Her relationships with Carl, with Nilofer, with Tarek, with Aggie, with her mother, and with so many in her community offer some security and comfort, but also some worry and angst, while often leaving her questioning her memories and her feelings.
I'd been whiplashed by every possible human emotion in the past few hours. I liked me better before. Clamped down, in charge. (pg. 253)
Teresa Toten makes sure that Sami's journey does not start and stop with a road trip. It becomes one of self-discovery and tenacity in which Sami sees and hears more from those around her and allows herself to be more. As alone as she may feel, living with a dry alcoholic who could relapse at any time, Sami learns she's part of a big community and one so diverse in its cultures that there is more than enough offering to be the family she needs.

Eight Days may have a road trip story line at its core but the journey is more one of life. But, as with any journey, where you come from is just one part. Where you're heading and where you end up are just as meaningful.

May 01, 2019

Girl of the Southern Sea

Written by Michelle Kadarusman
Pajama Press
978-1-77278-081-9
224 pp.
Ages 8-12
May 2019

This is the story of Nia, a girl who lives with her five-year-old brother Rudi and their father in a tin shack along the train tracks of Jakarta, Indonesia. Though at fourteen she has finished middle school, she craves to continue her education, but there is no extra money for the school fees needed for high school. Instead she works to tend to the family: getting her brother to and from school, making meals, cleaning, and preparing batter for their father's fried banana cart. Sadly, it also means bringing her father home from nights of drinking arak (an alcoholic drink) at Jango's hut and cleaning up after Bapak's poor choices. Still Nia tries to see a future, hopeful of saving money for school and writing stories about Dewi Kadita, the Queen of the Southern Sea, who offers life lessons and the promise of a better life from dire circumstances.

But, with any story, there are plot twists and conflicts that challenge characters and wrench the narrative from a smooth path to a satisfying terminus. For Nia, it's a minibus crash from which she alone survives essentially unscathed. In a culture rife with superstitions and a predilection for supernatural stories, Nia's survival is seen as a miracle and consequently their banana fritters attributed with being infused with good luck. But how fortunate is Nia truly?

This is the basis for Michelle Kadarusman's story of Nia, but I cannot convey the depth of the storytelling within Girl of the Southern Sea and it's message for girls to make their own opportunities. (A portion of the book's proceeds go to Plan International Canada's #BecauseIAmaGirl campaign.) Even dealing with her father's alcoholism and weakness of character, and inherent vulnerabilities because of poverty and alarming cultural and social attitudes, Nia is driven to continue her education and write her stories. She stands up for herself–"I am not your promise to give." (pg. 196)– and makes sure that her life becomes the story she wants told.
I am here to live a different story. I am here to write my own story. (pg. 202)
There are so many tragedies in Nia's story that come when others try to impose their lives on her circumstances. There are the corrupt police who assault her father; her best friend Yuli who may be involved in illicit activities as a way to improve her conditions; vigilantes who turn on Nia violently when the good luck they purported she peddled was proven to be lacking; and her father who is willing to choose his own needs over those of his children. Still Nia takes guidance from her mother, via dreams, and from Dewi Kadita, the princess cursed with disfiguring skin conditions relieved only in the Southern Sea, and begins to make a life for herself. Its origins may be saturated in misfortune and tragedy but it will become the story she wants to write for herself and make her the Girl of the Southern Sea.

December 21, 2018

Kate's Ring

Written by Donna Grassby
Red Deer Press
978-0-88995-567-7
276 pp.
Ages 11-15
October 2018

Thirteen-year-old Kate might wish for a ring just as her best friend has–Grace has an heirloom opal ring from her grandmother–but Kate's Ring is bigger than a child's dream to possess something special. That's because Kate's ring is not one of gold or silver but rather one of people and place.

It's the 1920s and Kate lives with her five younger siblings–Michael, David, Lily, Colin and Sarah–and her parents in Whitney Pier on Cape Breton. Though her story begins on a happy note with Poppa taking her out of school on her birthday to join him on his bread deliveries, Kate's story is not one filled with childhood joys. Mamma has consumption and is weak and often resting, while Poppa has started drinking and rarely at home. Sadly, the responsibilities for children and house fall to Kate, who begins to fall behind in school.  While there is family around, including Mamma's mother and siblings, there is much strife especially from Aunt Flora who constantly berates Poppa about his drinking and Mamma who always forgives him his ways and despises her sister's interference.  With Poppa unable to keep a job, he decides to get one logging on the mountain in Margaree, where his parents, Aigneis and Hector, live on a farm without electricity or indoor plumbing. Mamma is thrilled to go, though Aunt Flora convinces her to allow Kate to stay with her and Uncle Will to finish her school year, as on the mountain only Lily and David would be going to school.

For about three months, Kate experiences what it is like to have guardians who take care of her. They feed her, clothe her, love her and worry about her safety. Though her family is never far from her thoughts, she enjoys a real Christmas of family warmth. Then Aigneis insists that Kate join the rest of her family on the mountain as they need her help and her mother misses her.

While her mother promises her that Kate will return to school and not end up in service, Kate wonders how her mother can make such a promise, especially with Mamma feeling worse and praying to never leave the mountain. Though Kate appreciates some aspects of her new life, like learning skills like carding and spinning fleece as well as participating in a céilidh, she is more than ready to return to Whitney Pier when Mamma starts coughing up blood and collapses.

Though Aunt Flora continues to pass along money and food to the family via Kate, things are not much better with Mamma in the hospital. Unfortunately, things go from bad to worse and the family Kate has always known fractures with one tragedy after another. How the family will survive and in what configuration is only resolved through Donna Grassby's poignant storytelling, both heartbreaking and hopeful.

Kate's Ring is not a story of lightness and familial comfort. There are moments of joy, like when Kate's Aunt Flo and Uncle Will gift her with a pair of snowshoes or when she learns how to spin yarn, but Kate's life is more about responsibilities and chores and getting by. Sadly this probably has been the lot of many children whose families have had to deal with illness and financial woes, especially with parents who could not be there for their children because of their own troubles. Still Kate accepts her responsibilities for her siblings and her family without much fuss; instead she just does what is expected and necessary while holding onto a sliver of faith that things will right themselves. Even the  book's cover upholds the idea that sometimes, even when you feel like you're a long way out from the safety of shore, there's more rain to come.

Setting Kate's Ring in 1920s Cape Breton, Donna Grassby makes sure young readers see that childhood was not always about play and school. Sometimes it was whatever was needed to help the family out. And by contrasting life in towns and in rural areas, where you might or might not have electricity and plumbing, where travel happened by horse, car and train, and not all children were fortunate enough to go to school, Donna Grassby embeds that story of loss and hardship in families of different shapes. It's family created, sustained and reconfigured that makes Kate's Ring real for the time and for now.

August 01, 2018

Fifteen Point Nine

Written by Holly Dobbie
DCB
978-1-77086-523-5
240 pp.
Ages 13+
June 2018

The bullying that fifteen-year-old Agatha Murphy and others endure at the hands of “Those Girls” and the “Idiot Boys” who follow them around is physical, degrading and unconscionable.  They only see that Susan is overweight, that Carson is very small, that Travis is highly intelligent, and that Nicole has sweat issues. But it’s Aggie’s countless issues that are at the heart of Fifteen Point Nine. Aggie’s mother Jane is a paranoid alcoholic who scavenges and hoards and is oblivious to her daughter’s needs for food, clean clothes, and even a functional washroom. The bullies may ridicule Aggie for being dirty and smelling, as well as rummaging for food, but they and everyone else, including the school, doesn’t know about her mother and Aggie’s need to self-harm to relieve her anxiety and despair. Aggie may lighten that despair with barbed monikers including “The Torture Chamber” for school and “The Dump” for home, by ranking potential moments on her Official Romantic Scale, and by imagining outrageous scenarios that would whisk her away, but Aggie knows her situation is becoming intolerable.
I’m going to try to be more of a human being and less of a rodent, although it’s obviously something that I’m not very good at. (pg. 14)
In an attempt to take some control, Aggie decides to use an old camcorder to document the bullying in all its visual and audio horror. Unexpectedly, Susan becomes an ally in Aggie’s video endeavour, as do Carson, Travis and Nicole. These teens, deemed misfits by their cruel peers, become the Warriors Video Club and resolve to expose the bullies.

While Aggie continues to suffer at the hands of her horrid mother and the bullies, there are unexpected glimmers of something better, including  kindness from a school janitor and several moms, some Johnny Cash-infused wisdom from Jane’s newest suitor,
"Pain ain’t no good thing. Aint’t nobody out there gonna hand you a prize for storin’ shit in your heart.” (pg. 185)
and, most importantly, notes from an anonymous boy who wants her to attend the Winter Solstice Carnival dance. But, when a classmate commits suicide, Aggie’s perspective on survival and taking charge is put to the test.

Fifteen Point Nine may be Holly Dobbie’s debut novel but her teaching experiences with teens have served her well in telling the story convincingly. For those living through bullying, parental neglect, suicide of a peer and dejection, the authenticity of Fifteen Point Nine will hit hard, particularly in its harshness and near hopelessness. Still, Holly Dobbie makes it clear that, for those who do suffer at the hands of others, every day of survival is a victory and making it past fifteen point nine (just less than sixteen years of age) is a triumph.


(A version of this review was originally written for and published in Quill & Quire, as noted in the citation below.)

Kubiw, H. (2018, September). [Review of the book Fifteen Point Nine, by Holly Dobbie]. Quill & Quire, 84 (7): 37.

November 30, 2017

Louis Undercover

Written by Fanny Britt
Illustrated by Isabelle Arsenault
Translated by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou
Groundwood Books
978-1-55498-859-4
160 pp.
Ages 9-14
October 2017

From the acclaimed partnership of Fanny Britt and Isabelle Arsenault that brought us the award-winning Jane, the Fox and Me (Groundwood, 2013), which was also translated by Christelle Morelli and Susan Ouriou, comes a second graphic novel of emotional sensitivity, this time in a complex familial context.

The title may suggest a children's game of spying but Louis is more discreet observer and listener.  He watches important people in his life and sees what they do and hears what they say.  These observations form the fabric of his interactions with them, bringing out his sensitivities, fears and compassion. And he has much to observe, as he and his little brother Truffle bounce between their city apartment where they live with their mother and their country house where their alcoholic father still lives.
From Louis Undercover 
by Fanny Britt 
illus. by Isabelle Arsenault
Louis sees the ups and downs of his father's alcoholism: the manic periods of song and big plans and the depressive times of tears and melancholy, especially when the boys leave.  At home, he sees the joy in his mother when they return but also her sarcasm and loneliness.  Louis has his own secret burdens which he only shares with his good friend Boris.  Louis is in love with Billie.
She’s a spectacled siren, a rainstorm,
A chocolate fountain, a silent queen.
 (pg. 50)
From Louis Undercover 
by Fanny Britt 
illus. by Isabelle Arsenault
He is overwhelmed by his affection for Billie but he is immobilized into inaction.  
I had no idea that love is like a rock shattering your heart, as painful as it is life-giving, and that even as it makes you want to bolt, it keeps you glued to the spot. (pg. 58)
Though he makes plans to speak with her, just to say a few words to the gutsy girl who stands up to injustice and reads voraciously, he can't do it, even with the summer holidays imminent and a gift of dice for her in his pocket.  

From Louise Undercover 
by Fanny Britt 
illus. by Isabelle Arsenault
But two weeks of the summer at their father's becomes a turning point for the family.  Their father has stopped drinking and seems to be his old positive self, as reflected in the splashes of yellow, hitherto reserved for Billie.  Though their mom is seen as mired in the sadness of the turquoise and the browns of regular life, when Truffle is injured and sent to hospital, she rushes to his side and stays with them at their old house.  She makes breakfast and laughs with their father and sleeps in his bedroom.  They're back to their "normal" family and a trip to New York City holds the promise of a complete reunion.  But, sadly and realistically, the yellows give way to the family's blues of the past.  Returning to school in the fall, Louis can take this experience as a life lesson that love can end badly or he can see the hope that it can conquer the worst.

Fanny Britt has given us a story about a family dealing with an alcoholic parent and creates a story of understanding.  Louis sees what has happened to his family and is disheartened by it.  He recognizes the signs of his father's drinking and the impact on his mother and their family.  He is wary of love and how it can go horribly wrong.  (Note Louis' watching of his sober father playing with the happy Truffle in the illustration above.) Even his mother, ever immersed in the sadness of needing to be separated from her husband, holds out hope for recovery and reconciliation.  How Louis will adapt that understanding to his own crush on Billie, desperate to speak with her but reluctant and apprehensive about the outcome, is an ending that must be read and seen to be fully appreciated.  
From Louis Undercover 
by Fanny Britt 
illus. by Isabelle Arsenault
Isabelle Arsenault does emotional storytelling in illustration. She doesn't just draw pictures to go with the story; she builds the story with surreal elements that create depth and carry the nuance of Louis' family's circumstances.  The use of yellow and turquoise, with the browns and greys, subtly convey the emotion of each situation.  The yellow is positive and hopeful and cheery, as when Louis watches Billie or his family is happy and Dad is sober.  Turquoise permeates those illustrations of lives living with heartbreak.  Real life is brown and grey because it's sobering and no-nonsense.  

There is much sadness in Louis Undercover.  Turquoise and browns and greys are the overwhelming colours.  But be assured that there is yellow in Louis' life and Fanny Britt resolves his story with a subtle explosion of positivity matched by Isabelle Arsenault exquisite artwork.

May 30, 2015

The Death of Us

Written by Alice Kuipers
HarperTrophy Canada
978-1-44342-410-3
216 pp.
Ages 13+
2014


Be prepared for heartbreak. 

Before you’ve finished two full pages, a girl will be showing Kurt and his friends a social media image of Ivy’s car being pulled out from the river below the broken rail of the bridge.  And he knows that Callie would have been in that car.

Rewind two weeks, and Ivy Foulds and her alcoholic mom are returning after 3 years away to live next door to Callie Carraway and her family again, now that Mom has reunited with former boyfriend, Kevin.  But there’s something suspicious about the way that they left and about some secret between Callie and Ivy that cools their reunion.  However, with Callie’s best friends away for the summer and her preachy and inattentive mom distracted with new baby Cosmo, Callie is drawn to reconnect with Ivy who is determined to give "shiny-penny Callie in the bank account of my life" (pg. 5) a great summer.  But when Ivy is introduced to Kurt Hartnett, the school zine editor, on whom Callie is secretly crushing, she decides that, "He's so going to help me get over everything." (pg. 35)

So that great summer is off to an odd start and there are so many obstacles to it: Ivy’s flirtatious ways, secrets being held back and lies being told.  Sadly the book’s opening foreshadows a friendship that will be the death of them somehow.

Alternating between the voices of Ivy and Callie in the weeks prior to the accident and Kurt at the time of the accident, The Death of Us  examines the friendship between the two girls, both from the past and in the current summer, as they navigate their family issues and own explorations with love.  Their story told from the pen of Alice Kuipers is never predictable.  Not. Ever.

The girls are complex, juggling what they know, what they need and whom they trust, within each’s precarious family dynamics.  Most of all, Callie and Ivy are trying to figure out who they are and put forward those personas.  But try as they might, they still don't have a handle on the people they are growing into.  Ivy likes to rely on self-help podcasts ("the best way to grow as a person is to step outside your comfort zone"; pg. 122) to navigate this learning while Callie tends to look externally to others, including books, to direct her ideas about self.  But Callie and Ivy are the products of their families–as is Kurt, in a different way–and they are so affected by their mothers, that I weep for mother-daughter relationships that can be so disheartening, even destructive.  But I cheer for those like Kurt and his friend Xander and Callie’s Granny who provide real and unconditional support and affection, even if only discreetly.

Even without the twists and turns of highly-plotted stories, there’s no way the reader will see the ending coming, just as author Alice Kuipers did in her book 40 Things I Want to Tell You  from HarperTrophy Canada, 2012.  You see, there is no need for Alice Kuipers to embellish truths and reality when the drama of real life is so captivating and she can write it so well.  The Death of Us will take you into that reality and walk you along that cliff edge, back and forth, wondering when the jump or the fall is coming, because you know it will. That's life.  And it will be The Death of Us, one way or another, predictably or not.

August 26, 2013

Creeps

by Darren Hynes
Razorbill/Penguin Canada
978-0-14-318714-1
309 pp.
Age 13 +
August, 2013

Just to be clear:  Creeps is not a creepy book.  It may be unsettling for some readers by the horror of the protagonist's reality but it is neither supernatural nor blood-curdling.  In fact, Creeps is the descriptor that 15-year-old Marjorie Pope uses for herself and the protagonist of the story, Wayne Pumphrey, also 15.  And perhaps being a little different in Canning, Labrador is all it takes to feel like a creep there.

There's obviously something about Wayne that makes him the target of Pete "The Meat" Avery and his posse–Kenny, Bobby and Harvey–who relentlessly abuse him physically and verbally.  In the written but unsent letters he records in a journal, Wayne gives voice to the questions, fears, confusion that he refuses to express to Pete, his parents, his older sister Wanda, and others.  In fact, that's how Wayne becomes better acquainted with Marjorie Pope, a girl who wears her poverty without shame and ignores the sexual rumours Pete doles out about her.  When she witnesses one of Pete's attacks on Wayne, she distracts The Meat with comments about his biological father and early childhood with which he has issues.

In Wayne's efforts to belong to something, anything to help get through high school, he auditions for the school's production.  Although he doesn't earn a role, Mr. Rollie, the drama teacher, sees some leadership potential and asks him to be his assistant director.  Dealing with his dad's alcoholism, his mother's constant threat to leave because of her husband's drinking, and Pete The Meat's abuse, Wayne recognizes that
"...I'll take the job anyway because it's good to have somewhere to go and something to do and someone other than the wall to look at and say stuff to." (pg. 59)
Marjorie, on the other hand, wins the lead role in the play, mesmerizing everyone with the emotional depth of her performance.  However, she's probably just as happy to have someplace else to go, away from her mother whose husband's death has unhinged her, even believing that Marjorie feels no grief over her father's passing.

The threat of leaving Canning for elsewhere, anywhere, is a common theme amongst Creeps characters, and often distracts Wayne from his worries of Pete The Meat but not always.  This is especially true after Dad insists on confronting Pete's parents about their son's abuse of Wayne and causes the assaults to escalate.

While Wayne may believe that his reluctance to stand up for himself is because
"...sometimes I don't feel like I'm worth very much..." (pg. 226)
he is the only one who doesn't seem to consider running away.  There's Dad who leaves the daily grind of working in the mine by indulging in drink.  His mother wants to run away in reaction to his drinking.  Wanda is planning on taking off for Toronto with a friend.  Marjorie often thinks of escaping her mother's bizarre behaviour and reactions.  But, even with the psychological and physical degradation that Wayne experiences, he is more likely to contemplate the why's and how's rather than react, ultimately helping him to understand others better.

I truly hope that the anguishing circumstances that Darren Hynes so evocatively portrays in Creeps are not the norm of small towns in more remote areas such as Labrador and not the high school years that the author experienced.  No one, young or old, creep or not, should ever endure the humiliation too easily sketched by Darren Hynes' harsh word choice and graphic imagery.  Creeps may adhere to the old adage that "whatever doesn't kill you makes you stronger"–as happens for Wayne and Marjorie, thankfully–but be prepared for the wretchedness of anticipating the worst for the characters while still knowing that some degree of deliverance is forthcoming.

March 04, 2013

Shadow Girl

by Patricia Morrison
Tundra Books
978-1-77049-290-5
217 pp.
Ages 9-13
2013

A recurring theme in many books I've read in the past year and a half has been the abandonment of children, whether by choice, by accident, or by misfortune.  There was Fostergirls by Liane Shaw (Second Story Press, 2011); The Tiffin by Mahtab Narsimhan (Dancing Cat Books, 2011);  No Ordinary Day by Deborah Ellis (Groundwood Books, 2011); Middle of Nowhere by Caroline Adderson (Groundwood Books, 2012); I'll Be Home Soon by Luanne Armstrong (Ronsdale, 2012); and  A Tinfoil Sky by Cyndi Sand-Eveland (Tundra, 2012). Yet as predominant as this theme may be, each of these books, as does Shadow Girl by Patricia Morrison, takes a unique perspective on being without one's parents.

In December of 1963, Jules is only eleven years old but has become very self-sufficient living without a mom (who left when she was 4) and with a dad who has a serious drinking problem.  Though Jules will not acknowledge that her dad is an alcoholic until much later in the book, she believes that she knows how to keep things relaxed so he won't drink and what to expect when he does.  She makes most of her meals herself (when there's food in the house) and tries to keep things clean and tidy to prevent her dad from getting angry because he is a mean drunk.  But, calling her a "bloody stinking leech" (pg. 30) for being hungry and asking for more food isn't half as bad as him throwing food and dishes and pulling out the phone or staying away overnight.  Luckily Jules finds refuge in her bedroom where she likes to make blanket forts that help her feel secure.  And she loves to visit the local Zeller's toy department where she sits and reads or plays and now knows the two employees, Mrs. Adamson and Francis.  

But when dad doesn't come home for days, and she's left alone to fend for herself, Jules vacillates between anger and frustration aimed at anyone or anything ("I hate you, house, as much as you hate me! Stupid walls.  Stupid brown carpet.  Smelly, old kitchen.  I hate you!"; pg. 58), guilt and making resolutions (e.g., "Oh, dad, I'm sorry.  I won't do it again.  I won't ask for anything.  I'll leave you alone.  Just come back.  Please!"; pg. 59) to disqualifying herself, feeling worthless, non-existent, or crazy (e.g., "How can a stranger be like this to me? To Jules, the stinking weirdo?"; pg. 66)  But even with Jules trying to hide her dad's absence, Mrs. Adamson picks up on her sadness and learns some of the story, calling in the Catholic Children's Aid.

So, just days before Christmas, Jules enters temporary foster care while the Catholic Children's Aid attempts to find her father.  When he contacts them, Jules finds herself facing even greater challenges, negotiating between the inequitable treatment at her foster family's house, and her dad and his uncertain role in her life.

While there are some moments of surprising delight for Jules, her story is not a happy one, but it certainly is not a unique one.  She is a child who has had to grow up too fast and become responsible for herself, albeit without the maturity and financial support needed to be successful.  While everyone purports to want to help her, most of them have placed some limitations on that help, whether it be because of constraints dealing with time, money, or emotional engagement.  For all she has endured, Jules is still a young girl who must imagine happiness and unconditional love but even that is becoming more and more difficult.
How am I going to get through all the years of being a kid and getting pushed around?  How am I going to make it?  (pg. 182)
Patricia Morrison is able to get inside Jules' head and provide her with the confusing thoughts of a child in turmoil and at risk.  Jules' self-talk shows her confusion in finding the right voice that would keep her safe and worthy of love.  She's a multiple personality (probably like most of us), trying to decide which one personality will be the most successful: the brash girl who willingly skips school and hangs out at Zeller's; the girl who hides in her blanket fort and lacks the substance to be more than a shadow; or just a young girl who can enjoy childish pursuits, like skating and playing with dolls, as well as accept the affection of others.  As I said, Jules' story in Shadow Girl does not necessarily end on a happy note, but Patricia Morrison does allow Jules to come out from her vague Shadow Girl status and gather the substance and texture to become a daughter, a sister and a friend, and completely real.