Harvey Holds His Own

Written by Colleen Nelson
Illustrations by Tara Anderson

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-114-4

288 pp.

Ages 8-12

August 2020

It's funny how a little dog can help people without even trying. (pg.73)

After Harvey's first adventure (Harvey Comes Home, 2019) in which he becomes lost, Maggie's West Highland Terrier is happy to be home, though he does miss the boy who'd found him and the people at Brayside Retirement Villa where he'd spent much of his "leave." However, seventh grader Maggie doesn't necessarily feel very hospitable to Austin who, though he'd cared for Harvey well, had kept her dog without looking for his home. Still, as she chooses to do her volunteer hours at Brayside where Austin works alongside his grandfather, the head custodian of the facility, Maggie will learn more about connecting with others, even those with whom she seemingly has little in common, courtesy of a little dog.

Told from the different perspectives of Maggie, Austin and Harvey, Harvey Holds His Own follows multiple plot lines, all brought together via Maggie's volunteering at Brayside. There she meets new resident, Mrs. Josephine Fradette, a spirited senior, who shares her memories of being evacuated from Winnipeg to her grandparents' home during the Red River flood of 1950 and learning car mechanics from her Pépère. This connection is especially meaningful for Maggie who is feeling isolated from best friends Lexi and Brianne. Meanwhile Austin continues to help his grandfather at Brayside and is thrilled to reacquaint himself with Harvey during Maggie's visits–though he'd dearly love a dog of his own–but is distracted by fears that his Grandpa is in danger of losing his job.  And then there's adorable Harvey whose nose will lead him to both crisis and blessing, and bring Maggie, Austin, and others together in an ending that will leave readers smiling, heartened and satisfied.

From Harvey Holds His Own by Colleen Nelson, illus. by Tara Anderson

I am always apprehensive of animal stories as I anticipate hardships like vulnerabilities, injury and cruelty, especially at the hands of humans. Unfortunately, these things do happen in reality and they always leave me emotionally shattered. But Colleen Nelson, with her compassionate heart and love for Westies–there is a photo of her with her own family's–gives us a story of a girl, a boy and a dog (or two) that will make readers happy, both entertaining and reassuring them that things can work out well in the end. And while many will be drawn to this middle-grade novel because it is an animal story at its core, there are important messages about courage and perseverance, friendships new and old, and even love.

Loving something always comes with a risk; that's what makes it so special. (pg. 245)

I had to take a risk reading Harvey Holds His Own because of my own anxieties. What I got for that risk was a lovely story–with chapter headings delightfully illustrated by Tara Anderson–that reassures that there are good people who will always do right by others, whether they be their canine families, seniors in a long-term care facility, or friends. And isn't it nice to know, especially nowadays, that there is goodness out there?

Stolen Words

Written by Melanie Florence

Illustrated by Gabrielle Grimard

Second Story Press

978-1-77260-037-7

24 pp.

Ages 6-9

September 2017

A young girl's simple request of her grandfather to learn how to say a word in Cree reveals much about the system that stole his language from him and so many Aboriginal children but more about the affection and courage of those who have the grit to ensure those words do not remain silent or withheld forever.

From Stolen Words 

by Melanie Florence 

illus. by Gabrielle Grimard

It's evident from the words and actions of the seven-year-old girl and her grandfather that their relationship is a cherished one.  She is exuberant from her day at school, pleased with what she's made and learned, and comforted with his attention as he escorts her home, holding her hand and carrying her backpack.  But when she asks, "How do you say grandfather in Cree?" his response is a lesson in history and one muted with hurt and needless shame.  As his granddaughter continues to ask "Where did they take them?", "Who took you away, Grandpa?" and "Where did they take you, Grandpa?", her grandfather tells the history, heartbreaking in the capture of the Aboriginal children's words like a raven in the cage of Gabrielle Grimard's grim illustrations of the residential school.

From Stolen Words

 by Melanie Florence

 illus. by Gabrielle Grimard

But his hurt and lack of words does not deter the child's curiosity or compassion, and she brings home a worn book titled "Introduction to Cree" so that together they might speak the language of home and release the formerly imprisoned language.

Nôsisim, he whispered.
Granddaughter.

The word felt familiar in his mouth.

It felt like his home. His mother.

As the grandfather reconnects with his past and makes a new connection with his young granddaughter, I wept for his loss, his family, his struggle and his courage to take steps forward. It's an emotionally charged series of interactions and memories that are pure Melanie Florence.  They will astound readers and sadden them, while encouraging healing and learning without shame or anger.  Her words, thankfully not stolen, make for leaps forward for those whose language was pilfered from them as vulnerable children. Gabrielle Grimard's illustrations are similarly strong and soft, taking the reader into the intimate relationship between a grandfather harbouring hurts and a child wanting to help.

Melanie Florence took on the gut-wrenching issue of missing Indigenous women in her award-winning picture book Missing Nimâmâ which was divinely illustrated by François Thisdale (Clockwise Press, 2015) and similarly addresses the emotional trauma of the residential schools in stifling language.  While the generations after the residential schools are still affected by their inconceivable legacy, the healing will come through them.  The grandfather's words may have been stolen but his loving granddaughter is the means by which they will be restored.

From Stolen Words 

by Melanie Florence 

illus. by Gabrielle Grimard

Nathan

Written by Susan Ouriou

Red Deer Press

978-0-88995-547-9

152 pp.

Ages 7-12

October 2016

Bullies come in all sizes and ages.  Some are in the past and some in the present but their impact is as damaging as any trauma that can make you feel like you don’t belong or that you are not safe.  In her first middle grade book, Susan Ouriou, best known for her translations (including Pieces of Me; Jane, the Fox and Me; This Side of the Sky), tackles the heavy issue of bullying from different perspectives: a  school bully tormenting young Nathan, the historical trauma of residential schools as experienced by Nathan’s grandfather’s mother, and even the assault of Altzheimer’s on the human spirit.  All are brutal and relentless but there is reconciliation.

It’s summer, and the family is starting to move Grampa from his own home to live with them, and it’s making everyone tense.  Mom acts annoyed and can be downright rude to her father.  Dad just thinks Grampa should go straight into a nursing home.  Grampa isn’t always sure what’s going on but seems resigned to accept it.  And Nathan would do anything to keep his Grampa  as the impressive giant of a man he always was.  Grampa is especially sympathetic when Nathan, who is being bullied by a boy named Adam, is repeatedly accosted by the boy while enjoying outdoors play with a new friend Max.

“…no good could come of digging up the past.  All that counted was remembering we come from survivors.  We’re tough.” (pg. 25)

Grampa takes Nathan and Max (and Nathan’s Mom, who knows Grampa should not be driving) to  the museum at the Tsuut´ina Nation to meet Elder Estella who teaches about the impact of European settlement on First Nations.  Nathan learns his great-Gramma had been First Nations and had had to survive living at a residential school, where kids were bullied by adults and didn’t have their parents around to protect them.  

The school year begins and a vicious assault by Adam on Nathan and Max leaves Nathan psychologically impacted and unable to walk and Max moving to another school.  As constant companions, Grampa, whose Alzheimer’s is worsening, and Nathan become the supports they need to survive their personal ordeals and grow stronger because of them.

Though the title suggests a book all about Nathan, it goes far beyond the young boy’s story, being a middle-grade novel dense with emotion and conflict and drama, of family and trauma and First Nations and bullies and history. Susan Ouriou whose interpretation experiences include Edmonton’s Truth and Reconciliation Commission as well as The Banff Centre’s Indigenous Writers Program weaves the past, in terms of the residential schools and the Holocaust of WWII, with the present, and family with community.  Through her characters and the story, she shows us that there were and are many who are “some kind of strong and some kind of brave” (pg. 83) and that includes Nathan whose compassion lets him see Adam beyond a tormentor and Grampa who must live through his own torment while still looking to help others.  Nathan is a story of resilience and courage that bridges generations and offers understanding and even some degree of assurance.

Under the Umbrella

Written by Catherine Buquet

Illustrated by Marion Arbona

Translated by Erin Wood

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-016-1

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

March 2017

If Under the Umbrella proves anything, it's that there's always a little sunshine associated with the gloominess of rain if you just open your eyes to see beyond the umbrellas.

From Under the Umbrella 

by Catherine Buquet 

illus. by Marion Arbona

A grumbling man dashes through the streets of the town, bracing himself and his umbrella against the sleeting rain.  The man’s suit and umbrella seem as colourless as he is, the only colour the pink of his  raw hands.  He is wet, he is cold and he is late.  It’s not surprising that the older man does not see the young boy mesmerized by the edible treats glowing from within a bright and warm inviting shop.  But when the wind hurls the man’s umbrella away, the rosy-cheeked little boy retrieves it for the man who shows his gratitude with a red rhubarb-raspberry tart. That delightful treat brings the two into a shared experience that takes the chill off the weather for the two unlikely friends.  

From Under the Umbrella

by Catherine Buquet 

illus. by Marion Arbona

Under the Umbrella was first published in French as Sous le parapluie (Les 400 coups, 2016) and garnered much attention for its simple but restorative story told with the pencil and gouache illustrations of Marion Arbona, the artist behind numerous French-language books like Arachnéa and English-language picture books The Good Little Book and Sam’s Pet Temper.  Catherine Buquet’s text suggests a darkness to the man’s trek in the rain, using words like "grumbled", "growled", "muttered", "attacked", "forced", and “With striding feet and stormy heart” (pg. 15), making it evident that the man’s mood is as foul as the weather.  Yet when she introduces the boy who is “entranced” “at a warm and glowing window” and uses words like “gazes”, “the wonders”, “delight”, “shimmered” and “treat”, the atmosphere changes completely, though the rain continues to fall.  What a great lesson in word choice for older readers and writers to witness the impact vocabulary has on atmosphere.  Marion Arbona’s artwork conforms to that climate, using dusky greys and sharp angles for the dreary scenes  while shining bright yellows and reds and pinks within the patisserie and then upon the two as they savour a shared treat.  The interaction between the balding older man in the pin-striped suit and the little boy in cap and short pants is fleeting but colossal in its momentary importance.  I’m glad the boy was taking the time to enjoy the visual display and that the man took the time to acknowledge the boy.  It’s a small thing, but it’s a good thing.

French Toast

by Kari-Lynn Winters

Illustrated by François Thisdale

Pajama Press

978-1-77278-006-2

32 pp.

Ages 6+

November 2016

Although National French Toast is celebrated on November 28, I thought that reviewing this inspirational picture book on that day would trivialize its significant message.  And since my family enjoys French toast, the food, on Christmas morning, I opted to celebrate the book’s publication closer to that celebration, one similarly wrapped in inclusivity, culture, love and family.

While out for a walk with her grandmother, Nan-ma, Phoebe is called “French Toast” by kids from school.  Obviously humiliated, the little girl clarifies to the blind woman that she is called that because the colour of her skin is “Like tea, after you’ve added the milk.” (pg. 10) But Nan-ma sees that as “Warm and good” which gets Phoebe wondering since the label doesn’t usually make her feel good, just as “I don’t feel good when strangers at the mall comment on my ringlets or ask me about my accent.” (pg. 11)  This begins a discussion about the colour of Phoebe’s mother’s skin, usually identified as white, but which Phoebe recognizes more like stirred peach yogurt, filled with sweetness and goodness.  She sees her father as warm banana bread and her Nan-ma like maple syrup, and then others as cinnamon honey and toasted coconut. Meanwhile, as they walk, a girl from school engages Phoebe, surprising her by calling her by name. Finally Phoebe takes to heart the guidance she has taken and likewise given, flavouring her life, her family and herself with optimism.

From French Toast 

by Kari-Lynn Winters 

illus. by François Thisdale

French Toast starts out as less about the food and more about labelling but Kari-Lynn Winters, with illustrator François Thisdale (most recently awarded the TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award), turns the story around to be about the goodness of food and relationships that nourish us.  Kari-Lynn Winters, who can do fun and whimsical (e.g., Good Pirate, Pajama Press, 2016) as well as serious and meaningful (e.g., Gift Days, Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 2012), impresses with her splendid foray into understanding and acceptance of skin colour, diversity and multiculturalism (Phoebe’s family is Haitian) and one that warms the heart and fills the belly with virtue and affection.

From French Toast

 by Kari-Lynn Winters 

illus. by François Thisdale

Kari-Lynn Winter’s story could only have been paired with the artistry of François Thisdale who illustrated the memorable The Stamp Collector (Jennifer Lanthier, Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 2012) and That Squeak (Carolyn Beck, Fitzhenry & Whiteside, 2015). François Thisdale, whose artwork is a magical blend of drawing and painting with digital imagery, balances the reality of Phoebe and her grandmother’s relationship and emotional situations with a dream-like landscape. His colours and textures fuse so many elements that the book becomes more art than merely a child’s picture book. And then there are the images of glorious food that cultivate nourishment for the soul, inspiring Phoebe and her grandmother, and anyone who reads the book, to see family and skin colour from a fresh perspective.

French toast may not be part of your holiday buffet but French Toast should definitely be on everyone’s bookshelf and story-telling list for the holidays and every day of the year when acceptance is vital i.e., always.  It feeds the spirit and bakes up multiple servings of compassion and open-mindedness, helpings we should all scoop out enthusiastically.

From French Toast

by Kari-Lynn Winters 

illus. by François Thisdale

The End of the Line

by Sharon E. McKay

Annick Press

978-1-55451-658-2

128 pp.

Ages 8-11

August, 2014

When the Germans occupied Amsterdam in May 1940, not everyone, and certainly not elderly brothers, Hans and Lars Gorter, were adversely affected immediately.  The two Dutch bachelors, both in their 60’s, continued to live in the home they had once shared with their mother in a quiet cul-de-sac across the road from her friend, Mrs. Vos, now 80.  They continued to work on a city tram, Hans driving it and Lars collecting tickets.  And they continued to keep to themselves and their routines, though they were becoming perplexed by the hatred being directed at the Jewish people and the Nazis insistence that suspicious behaviour of any sort be reported.

But in 1942 when a woman on the tram separates herself from the little girl accompanying her and is taken away by the Nazis, Lars claims the young girl as his niece and, with a quick release of the hand brake, Hans distracts the Nazi who leaves without the girl.  Hours later, the two men, befuddled as to what to do with the child, take her home.  That simple act, including taking her hands to walk her across the street, has Lars and Hans becoming unofficial uncles to little Beatrix.

To Lars it was as if the curl of a wave had come to rest in his palm To Hans it felt as if the gentlest creature on earth–a baby bird, perhaps–had nestled in his hand.  In that moment both felt the intense pride that comes with great responsibility as they guided the child safely across the street. (pg. 22-3) 

The brothers and Mrs. Vos raise her as Beatrix Gorter and have her schooled in Catholicism. Neighbours are encouraged into silence with polite threats of secrets to be revealed, and a new neighbour, the young Mrs. Lieve van der Meer, taking a special role in Beatrix’s education and upbringing.  And as Beatrix grows, and the persecution of the Jews escalates, and food shortages and strikes make life virtually impossible, the years pass, Beatrix ever hopeful that her mother will return.

This could have been another story of surviving the Holocaust but Sharon E. McKay doesn’t do the same as everyone.  It’s not about escaping or surviving.  It’s the story about naively opening one’s home and one’s heart to a stranger and finding both enriched in unexpected ways. The End of the Line is such a simple story about two unlikely and even reluctant heroes who jump in to help a little girl and find their lives changed forever.  What makes the story all the more poignant is the way in which Beatrix’s unofficial adoption creates a lovely new family of anomalous individuals.  And even with the horrors of Nazism and the persecution of the Jewish people and the Dutch under occupation, Sharon E. McKay is able still to provide moments of sweet tenderness and a reassuring ending that will fill one’s heart with gladness and one’s eyes with tears.  

The Missing Dog is Spotted

Written by Jessica Scott Kerrin

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-726-9

204 pp.

Ages 8-12

March, 2015

Two years ago, Jessica Scott Kerrin brought us The Spotted Dog Last Seen  (Groundwood, 2013) about Grade 6 student volunteers who help the Twillingate Cemetery Brigade and learn from the elderly Mr. Creelman and his cronies about reading epitaphs and cleaning grave markers.  But there was much more to that story, including a school’s time capsule, a spotted dog and a Mystery Book Club, and The Missing Dog is Spotted takes us to an earlier time to introduce those critical elements, while providing a great story in itself.

Sixth graders Trevor and Loyola may have a secret and unspoken pact that “under absolutely no circumstances were they to appear together side by side” (pg. 12) because of the  humongous disparity in their heights, but it seems the universe doesn’t know about that agreement, because, when they get out of volunteering together on the Twillingate Cemetery Brigade, they are then thrust together at the animal shelter to walk dogs for the elderly.  While the two kids walk their six dogs, they soon realize that everyone is more focused on the dogs, not them.  That’s okay since they will need to work together to help solve the mystery of Mr. Fester’s missing dog, Buster.  And that mystery is complicated.

The Missing Dog is Spotted may be based on Trevor and Loyola’s volunteering with dogs but it’s a far greater story about trying to do the right thing, accepting that sometimes things go wrong and can never be fixed, and guilt can be brutal.  Of course, I’m not giving away much about who feels such guilt or about what because it’s irrelevant–though you'll learn it soon enough when you read the book– since guilt is universal, even for those who could take a lesson in accepting responsibility for making the lives of others more difficult than necessary.  But Jessica Scott Kerrin doesn’t saturate The Missing Dog is Spotted with that guilt, though there is that anguish that is always involved when an animal goes missing and even more so when that animal belongs to an elderly person who adores that pet.  Instead, Jessica Scott Kerrin holds the angst back and ensures that The Missing Dog is Spotted remains a strong middle grade book that focuses on the concerns and misunderstandings that children and pre-teens might recognize, and still provides a happy ending, for a dog at least.

Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin

by Chieri Uegaki

Illustrated by Qin Leng

Kids Can Press

978-1-894786-33-1

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

2014

Having recently recommended Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin to a fellow teacher-librarian looking for picture books about perseverance, and then noting the numerous book award shortlists that have included this book, I was dismayed to realized I have never reviewed this little gem on CanLit for LittleCanadians.  My bad.  This omission is solely due to my negligence and the overwhelming number of great youngCanLit books I choose to read.  Hopefully this post will put some things to right.

During their summer trip to Japan to visit her grandfather, Hana becomes enthralled with the beautiful music he makes.  As the Second Violin in a symphony orchestra, Ojiichan plays the classical pieces of Mozart and Mendelssohn and Bach, but he could also play requests for his grandchildren and recreate sounds of the natural world like crickets, raindrops, and birds.  

Upon their return home, Hana begins to take violin lessons and, though her older brothers laugh at her efforts, she is determined and even signs up to play in the school talent show.  She may practise for her parents and her dog Jojo and even for her grandfather's photo, but she still feels nervous when her name is called, following five previous violinists!  In her mind, Ojiichan's words of encouragement, "Gambarunoyo, Hana-chan", help her to do her best and consequently captivate her audience, even her brothers.

From Hana Hashimoto, Six Violin by Chieri Uegaki, illus. by Qin Leng

Chieri Uegaki's message of trying to do your best is a global one but one that too often gets lost when children are told that they're great at everything that they endeavour.  That is a disservice we commit.  While Hana is never told she's the greatest and she can do anything to which she puts her mind, she chooses to persevere.  Her achievement in the talent show is not the success of many formulaic books that would have her winning or being showered with accolades (thank you, Chieri Uegaki) but rather in challenging herself to get up on stage and make magical music with her violin.  She does this rather successfully, just as Chieri Uegaki and Qin Leng do.  Qin Leng's illustrations have that light touch that works so well with the musical nature of Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin, the Japanese cultural landscape, and the little girl with the quiet strength.  

Without going over the top myself, I can sincerely attest to the faultlessness of including Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin on lists for the 2015 USBBY Outstanding International Book List, the Cooperative Children's Book Center 2015 Choices and on shortlists for the 2014 Governor General's Award for Illustration, 2016 Shining Willow, and the 2015 Christie Harris Illustrated Book Prize among others.  It seems that everyone appreciates Hana Hashimoto, Sixth Violin.


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I've posted KidsCanPressMovies book trailer for this lovely picture book here.

The Old Ways

by Susan Margaret Chapman

Illustrated by John Mantha

Fifth House

978-1-92708-316-1

32 pp.

Ages 5+

October, 2014

The clash of cultures between generations is seemingly inescapable but it must be especially overpowering for those of Aboriginal heritage.  For older members, the history and perhaps memories of the old ways being driven from them by heavy-handedness might compel them to relinquish those traditions or to hold on even tighter.  Although young Simon in The Old Ways may be oblivious to the history of his culture, his grandparents, Ananaksaq and Ataatga, undoubtedly are not, but their kindness and wisdom help them educate Simon in the most subtle of ways.

You see, Simon is a child drawn to the amenities of contemporary culture: computers, TV, video games and even pizza. But, living with his Ananaksaq and Ataatga, his life includes caribou stew, story-telling and offers to build igloos.  Simon may think, "Ataatga and the old ways again" but when a snowmobile trip to Igloolik to visit family takes a dangerous direction, the young boy realizes the value of the old ways in ensuring more than just their survival.

The cover of The Old Ways states that the story was inspired by a true story and perhaps that is why it is all the more poignant.  Preaching to children of the way things used to be done is worthless when young ones have no connection to those ways.  It's irrelevant if mom and dad walked to school or didn't use computers; their children only know about getting driven to school and being digitally connected to everything. But author Susan Margaret Chapman allows Simon to witness the benefits of the old ways and come to the realization of their worth for himself, rather than demanding his acceptance. His grandparents make him aware of their ways, sharing with him as needed, but they wisely allow him to come to them when he's ready to really learn about these ways. And John Mantha's illustrations make almost tangible the simplicity of a northern lifestyle, whether in the house or on the cold, blue tundra while exposing the contrast between old and new.

While The Old Ways is a lovely and valuable resource for teachers to introduce the concept of comparing cultures, over time and place, it is also a story of connecting between generations, recognizing that sharing is a demonstration of respect and should be appreciated as such.

The Fabulous World of Mr. Fred

by Lili Chartrand

Illustrated by Gabrielle Grimard

Fitzhenry & Whiteside

978-1-55455-346-4

32 pp.

Ages 5+

September 2014

The award-winning Monde fabuleux de Monsieur Fred (Dominique et Compagnie, 2012) has finally been translated into English, introducing new readers to the beautifully illustrated story of friendship, imagination and stories.

Pierrot is a daydreamer, a young boy who loves stories and using his imagination.  Coming across an older man sitting on a park bench and reading an invisible book, the boy introduces himself and joins the man, Mr. Fred.  Instead of treating the man as crazy, Pierrot encourages Mr. Fred to share the stories in his book.  Invited back, Pierrot enjoys Mr. Fred's magical stories, delighting in their mesmeric quality and the joy the story-teller derives.  Finally Mr. Fred feels comfortable to disclose his own story, revealing a tragedy that leads him to meeting Pierrot.  And, though Pierrot tries to excite other children about Mr. Fred and his book, they laugh at him.  That is, all but one little girl, Lila.  Sadly Lila never meets Mr. Fred.  But his friendship and stories become the catalyst for Pierrot and Lila's friendship and future.

Lili Chartrand's lovely story about the healing nature of friendship and the gift of imagination is enhanced with Gabrielle Grimard's expressive illustrations. Her use of watercolours gives the images an ethereal fluidity, though the intense gouache and definition with pencil help ground the story in bright reality.  The Fabulous World of Mr. Fred easily melds intensity and lightness of text and pictures to share a story of similar depth and tenderness.

Mr. Frank

by Irene Luxbacher

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-435-0

32 pp.

Ages 4-7

September 2014

Mr. Frank is a tailor, and one who has served many people through many decades by creating a wide variety of clothes, and Mr. Frank, the book, begins with the excitement of receiving a special "order for an outfit that made all the others seem rather dull."(pg. 6) From Mr. Frank's hand to the forehead as he receives the call, the order seems overwhelming. But the elderly tailor takes his time thinking about the fabrics and the design, the style and the fit, as well as comfort and playfulness.  This man is more than a tailor, he is a creator of dreams, albeit one with needle and thread.

And as Mr. Frank makes his decisions, he takes several trips down memory lane, first recalling his mending of uniforms from more than 60 years ago when he was but a child, to the suits he tailored as a young man, and then the wild outfits of the 1960's and 1970's.  As fashions and Mr. Frank's tailoring change with the decades, so too does Mr. Frank, going a little more grey and a little more perplexed by the trends, but always accommodating, and taking on a variety of orders.  But it is evident that Mr. Frank will be closing up shop after today, after he completes this most special of orders.  It will be his pièce de résistance.

Irene Luxbacher was inspired by her own father's tailoring to write Mr. Frank, and the respect and admiration she extends is evident in the depth of her illustrations.  Though there is an understated melancholy about Mr. Frank, as he wraps up his tailoring career with one last special order, Irene Luxbacher emphasizes the textures and colours of a full life of creating fashions for others.  From the patterned wallpaper and rug and the textured fabrics, to the bold patterns of the mod clothes of the 1960's, the details all tell of a richness of a life well lived.  There are collages of photographs with magazine pictures, drawings and pattern pieces that I suspect once graced the walls of the real Mr. Frank's tailor shop, as I believe do the wall photos in the residence to which he delivers this last outfit.  In a lovely homage to her father and to the relationships between the generations, Irene Luxbacher has created her own masterpiece for the ages, one that she and her readers will look upon fondly for many years too.

Middle of Nowhere

by Caroline Adderson

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-132-8

214 pp.

Ages 8-12

2012

Nowhere is a place like no other.  It seems endless, remote and isolated (even more than the beautiful British Columbia of Middle of Nowhere).  If you have hold of someone’s hand when in nowhere, it doesn’t seem so bad.  But what if the hand is absent, and someone else is practically pulling off your hand looking for support?  Do you let nowhere swallow you or do you look for a new hand? Can you choose poorly or is every option viable?

Curtis Schlanka is only 12 but he seems like a boy who has already lived through a lot.  He was five-and-a-half years old when his mother took off after her boyfriend, Gerry, leaving Curtis’ kindergarten teacher to contact Social Services.  At the Pennypackers’ foster home, he had to endure nasty bullying from their nine-year-old son, Brandon, until Curtis’ mother returned and proved she was a fit mother to her new baby, Artie, and was able to take Curtis home too.  She was working hard at getting her high-school equivalency while working the night shift at Pay-N-Save, and doing her best to provide for her two sons. 

So when she doesn’t come home, Curtis is pretty sure, ten out of ten, that she’ll be back.  Coincidentally, the elderly woman in the house next door, Mrs. Burt, injures her hip and recruits Curtis to run some errands for her.  Mrs. Burt and Curtis soon recognize the mutual benefit of helping each other.  After the police are called in (since their apartment’s rent didn’t get paid), the boys stay hidden at Mrs. Burt’s, aiming to evade Social Services.  Happily, they avoid the authorities while helping Mrs. Burt too, who enjoys mothering the boys, especially five-and-a-half year old Artie, whose screaming and crying fits subside with her TLC. 

With school almost finished, Mrs. Burt suggests going up to her cabin for a holiday, all the while assuring Curtis that he can keep trying to contact his mom should she return.   So, in her 1957 Chevy Bel Air, they travel to the remote cabin where the boys are nourished by the sun, Mrs. Burt’s great cooking and lots of activity, including swimming, fishing and gardening.  While Artie grows emotionally closer to Mrs. Burt, Curtis begins to suspect that she has her own agenda, confirmed when summer turns to fall and they do not return for school.

As manipulative as Mrs. Burt may sound, she is nothing more than an elderly woman who lives on her own and isn’t very mobile but refuses help or even advice from her “Big Shot” daughter in Toronto.  The boys’ missing mother provides Mrs. Burt with an opportunity to be valuable and in control again.  Mrs. Burt never harms the boys, only cares for them as she would her own grandchildren, but Curtis realizes that they are relinquishing control to her, giving up the opportunity to connect with their mom (which is all they wanted when avoiding Social Services). 

The nowhere of the boys’ lives could be the remoteness of the cabin, as Curtis realizes when there is nowhere to go for help; it could be the untethered nature of their relationship, which provides them only with superficial supports of food, shelter and parenting; or it could be a temporal nowhere, neither at the beginning or middle or end, never knowing how many sleeps until Mom returns.   Ultimately Curtis realizes that Mrs. Burt is in a nowhere of her own: between a life filled with working in a lumber camp, caring for her family, and being an independent woman to one of reliance, immobility, seclusion and death.  Caroline Adderson’s storytelling emotionally engages the reader in Curtis’, Artie’s and Mrs. Burt’s fears of their nowheres, while offering hope about the nowhere in which the boys’ mother exists.  Curtis’ voice is distinct, both trusting and hesitant, well-balanced with the tone of the narrative, as he learns that nowhere is just a product of a flawed perception.  Nowhere is always somewhere – the chances are ten out of ten.