Fly

Written by Alison Hughes

Kids Can Press

978-1-5253-0583-2

200 pp.

Ages 10-14

October 2022

 

...my body is not all that I am. (pg. 40)

Fly is what 14-year-old Felix Landon Yarrow (a.k.a. Fly per his initials) dreams of doing. In his dreams, he is no longer trapped in a wheelchair by cerebral palsy. He is free to spread his arms and soar.

            My disability,

                         my difficulties,

                                               my pain–

often on public display–

are

in fact

all my own.

                                       Private. (pg. 59)

But, Felix is in a wheelchair. And though he feels very much like his pain is often on public display, whether he is working with his aide Levi or being driven in the "special" school bus, he knows that he is invisible to many, especially his peers. Still, that invisibility becomes his superpower, with Felix becoming a "Fly on the Wall" and ready to emulate his literary guide, Cervantes's Don Quixote, and follow truth and justice. His quest: to save his classmate and damsel in distress, Daria, from the arrogant and dangerous Carter.

As Felix watches and learns, he becomes Knightwatch and emails warnings to Daria about Carter and to Carter that his heinous and potentially criminal behaviour has been observed. But, like Don Quixote, along with battles with enemies come inner battles of understanding of self. 

Fly, a novel in free verse, may have a contemporary setting but its story is as classic as that of Don Quixote. It's about finding inner strength and fighting against injustices. But author Alison Hughes makes sure the reader realizes that much of this is also about perception. Told in Felix's voice, the reader will sympathize with his constrained physical nature and applaud his courage to pursue chivalrous goals of protecting first Daria and then others from oppressors. Going after Carter gives Felix purpose, though he doesn't realize until the end that his manner of attack may leave others vulnerable. His goal is outward, to help others, but the learning he takes from his endeavour is all about him and what he needs to do to be fair. The growth that Felix experiences, moving from annoyance at how others judge and treat him to appreciation for efforts others make, is a monumental one. And Alison Hughes takes the readers along on that epic journey through her elegant free verse. The writing flows and has shape that comes with self-discovery, engagement with others and context of circumstances. Felix's story takes a form not unlike his own body, both vulnerable and combative, and we're there for the moment of battle, within and externally, when Felix realizes that some of the limitations to the freedom to fly may be those he's imposed on himself.

Caterpillars Can't Swim

Written by Liane Shaw
Second Story Press
978-1-77260-053-7
256 pp.
Ages 13-18
September 2017

Though sixteen-year-old Ryan Malloy is often treated differently in his small town due to his use of a wheelchair, everything is right with the world when he is swimming.  Because he’s up early even on days when he hasn’t got swim team practice, Ryan witnesses someone disappearing beneath the surface of their local river.  Throwing himself off the bridge, ultimately injuring his shoulder, Ryan saves a school mate, Jack Pedersen, from drowning.  But did Ryan really help Jack out?  When small-town gossip and rumours about Jack’s sexuality and the bullying he endures because of it brings Ryan to Jack’s defense and side repeatedly, the two develop a tenuous friendship.

Not that I'm saying everyone here is like that.  They aren't.  It's just that it seems like this town is frozen in time and a lot of attitudes around here are stuck in the ice.  My mother says she spends a lot of her time at school working on thawing out the attitudes of the kids so that someday things will be different.
   I don't think it's working yet. (pg. 10)

Although Ryan’s best friend Cody is somewhat awkward about Jack and about Ryan’s new relationship with him, the three boys’ embark on a summer trip to a local ComicCon.  During those two days, much is revealed about the teens’ fears, attitudes and confusion about each other but also exposed are the hurts, judgments and burdens they all carry, regardless of the limitations or strengths others perceive them to have.  Whether their relationships, new and old, are enough to make a positive difference in their lives is only evident after a stunning climax of rejection, desperation, and intervention.

Liane Shaw, a former educator including special education resource teacher, has never shied away from tough topics like foster care (Fostergirls, Second Story, 2011), physical or emotional limitations (The Color of Silence, Second Story, 2013) and ASD (Don’t Tell, Don’t Tell, Don’t Tell, Second Story, 2016). As in her earlier young adult books, she tackles the prejudices people assert on those who are different, whether perceived or real, and turns them into understanding and acceptance for those differences.  Whether caterpillars can or can’t swim is irrelevant.  What’s important is knowing that metamorphosis is foreseeable and all butterflies and moths are to be appreciated.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

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

Kubiw, H. (2017, September). [Review of the book Caterpillars Can't Swim, by Liane Shaw]. Quill & Quire, 83 (7): 39.

What Happened to Ivy

Written by Kathy Stinson
Second Story Press
978-1-926920-81-8
146 pp.
Ages 14-17
2012

What Happened to Ivy is just as easily a question as it is a statement about the narrative within the covers of Kathy Stinson's newest book, selected as one of two Honour Books for the 2013 Canadian Library Association Young Adult Book of the Year.

Ivy is the eleven-year-old sister of David, and the center of their family's world.  Ivy has cerebral palsy and is wheelchair-bound, and her needs for costly meds, equipment, physio and other therapy, as well as for constant attention to dangerous seizures, behaviour and general care infuses every moment of their lives.  David, fifteen, doesn't resent Ivy or the effects her needs have on his life; but he doesn't appreciate his parents' treatment of him as a lackey rather than a son.

Unless they need me to do something, it's like I'm not even here. (pg. 27)

David is delighted when an old friend of his mother's moves in, with her daughter Hannah, to the house across the street from them.  He's even more encouraged when Hannah seems to want to spend time with him, especially since he begins thinking about her in terms beyond just friendship.  When Hannah is invited to accompany the family to the cottage, David is hopeful that she will add some lightness to the sombre atmosphere of his family's anticipation of Ivy's next operation.  And if he gets a bit of alone time with her, all the better.

Similarly, Hannah seems to enjoy being around the Burkes, particularly since she has no siblings and her dad who left when she was 7 gives the impression that he is oblivious to her.  In fact, Hannah notes how impressed she is by the familiar affection and concern they all have for Ivy, specifically remarking what a wonderful father Mr. Burke is to his daughter.

But the visit to the cottage changes everything.  Ivy has a severe seizure while in the water in her father's arms (her way of swimming) and all attempts to revive her are unsuccessful.  Then the questions begin.

Kathy Stinson depicts the tragedy of Ivy's death in the context of speculation as to its nature.  Shockingly, even Ivy's dad begins to question what happened to her and his role in her death.  Could he have done something to change the results?  Was he negligent?  Was he consciously thinking about Ivy's life?  When he gives voice to his questions, sharing them with his wife, and David overhears, an additional layer of emotion washes over their grief.  Each begins to question their feelings for Ivy.

At 146 pages, What Happened to Ivy is relatively short for a young adult novel and I suspect that it's because Kathy Stinson does not feel the need to wrap the story in layers upon layers of descriptive text and subplots to enhance the primary storyline.  Its bare bones are strong enough to support a complex examination of humanity and the connections that are strained when a much-loved child with physical challenges dies.  Without criticizing or defending any attitudes, Kathy Stinson allows compassion to steer the questions and the telling of What Happened to Ivy.