The Color of Silence

Written by Liane Shaw
Second Story Press
978-1-926920-93-1
269 pp.
Ages 13-17
2013

Does silence have a colour?  Or does silence have different colours?  If I'd been asked those questions, I might have initially given silence the colour black - a void, without filling, a black hole of nothingness but the potential for sound.  But Liane Shaw shows us that The Color of Silence will vary with the listener, here specifically two teens: one whose world had been filled with laughter and song, and then terror, before she chooses not to speak; and one whose silence is involuntary as a result of a medical condition which has denied her a voice since birth.  And just as she did in Fostergirls (Second Story Press, 2011), her novel which was reviewed here on December 5, 2011, Liane Shaw demonstrates that perspective is everything and nothing is the same for everyone.

Alternating chapters between Alexandra and Joanie, and the reminiscences and present situations of both seventeen-year-old girls, Liane Shaw has the two connecting first due to a court order, definitely involuntarily, and then emotionally and naturally through silence.  Alexandra Taylor is court-ordered to provide 200 hours of community service after an accident in a borrowed car leads to the death of her best friend, the popular Cali Prescott.  While both Alex and Cali had loved singing, Cali's talent seemed more innate and now Alex can't even bear to speak.  With her dad, Alex is somewhat more forthcoming, although accepting the guilt for Cali's death and recognizing the futility of her words in preventing it have numbed Alex's desire for verbal communication. Unfortunately, Joanie is the one whose brain doesn't relay messages to her body and suffers through repeated bouts of severe respiratory distress, necessary feeding tubes, a lack of muscle control (except for her eyes) and no voice.  And yet she is the one who works tirelessly to understand Alex and to connect with her.

Joanie, whose poor health and absence of real family would give her great reasons for bitterness, shows only acceptance and understanding, trying to learn more about Alex's reluctance to speak (she doesn't know anything about the court order) and still appreciating the silence she brings.

I rather like having someone here who understands about silence. (pg. 69)

Joanie's silence is coloured with the prisms of light, i.e., rainbows, that reflect from a stone necklace that has been hung above her hospital bed.  The colours trigger her memories of happier times, staying at the group home, going out on school trips, and just being able to leave her hospital bed. So much of her day is quiet because of the dearth of visitors, essentially only her care staff.  Until Alexandra.  Joanie is delighted with Alex's visits, although Alex barely groans out a gasp or yes or no for her first visits.  But Joanie takes it upon herself to get Alex speaking.

Finding the words in silence is one of the things I do best. (pg. 123)

Though the two girls seem to be voiceless, they are attentive to each other.  For Alex, she is too distracted at the beginning to notice much about Joanie, spending much of her efforts anticipating others judging her for her past "crime" and her lack of skills.  Similarly, Joanie worries about others' perceptions of her, even wishing that,

there was a magic mirror that could show him who I really am.  I don't want either of us to keep on looking at the outside of me. (pg. 93)

 When Joanie is given the opportunity to turn her eye movements into words using technology called the Eye Gaze (which they affectionately call the Wizard), the two girls are finally on the same page, with Alex realizing that she has something to offer Joanie i.e., the time and effort to ensure the Wizard is everything it can be.  They are only limited by Joanie's health and consequently time to see what the Wizard can help her achieve.

Liane Shaw ensures that the readers see that voicelessness can be selective or involuntary but the consequences similarly disheartening.  For each girl there is a degree of shame (justified or not, as much shame is) but understanding, appreciation and  effort can mitigate the effects, if only temporarily.  The Color of Silence is not a plot-driven novel of adventure, intriguing subplots or parables to teach us how to live. It's a story of two characters and how they develop and evolve into better functioning individuals, finding the colour in their lives.

Kamik: An Inuit Puppy Story

by Donald Uluadluak

Illustrated by Qin Leng

Inhabit Media

32 pp.

Ages 4-9

2012

Though Kamik: An Inuit Puppy Story is based on an Inuit boy, his dog and his grandfather, the expectations of a young boy for his new pup and the wisdom that an older family member shares could be from any household.

Jake seems frustrated with his restless new puppy, Kamik, who is distracted by new sights, sounds and things upon which to chew.  Jake's declarations that, "He never listens, no matter how loud I yell" or "Get back here!" or "Stop it" has his grandfather, Ataatasiaq, chuckling before sharing with Jake his reminiscences of raising puppies, with the help of his own grandmother and the other women.  While sharing anecdotes with Jake about hunting with his dog team and the many times the dogs helped him out, his grandfather imparts the traditions of communicating with and appreciating one's dogs.  From the naming of pups to cherishing them as if children, his grandfather makes it clear that Kamik will be what Jake makes of him by his relationship with the husky puppy.

Depending on the book cover, author Donald Uluadluak's name may be preceded by the qualifier, "Adapted from the memories of", sharing the credit of Kamik: An Inuit Puppy Story with those who shared their wisdom of raising dogs with him. The idea that knowledge is continuously built upon from past generations, perhaps with each new generation taking what works and leaving behind what doesn't, is heartening.  Whether used for raising pups or children or for guiding one's choices, experience is an invaluable teaching tool.  Without taking over Jake's learning, his grandfather steers him with kindness and humility and good old-fashioned common sense to ensure that Kamik is treated well and appreciated wholly for his goodness.  The illustrations by Qin Leng, artist of A Flock of Shoes (Sarah Tsiang, Annick Press, 2010 ) and Dear Baobab (Cheryl Foggo, Second Story Press, 2011), have the perfect light touch for a story that has as strong message about the right way to do something and with compassion to ensure that the reader, and Jake, never feel chastized.

Record Breaker

by Robin Stevenson
Orca Book Publishers
978-1-5546-9959-9
152 pp.
Ages 9-12
2013

Most of us would do anything to alleviate the sadness and despair of one we love.  Children are inclined to do the same, although the means by which they are convinced they can do this may be rather unconventional.  Take young Jack, for example, in Robin Stevenson's latest from Orca Book Publishers, Record Breaker.  He is sure that breaking a world record will propel his mother from her overwhelming sadness following the death of his baby sister Annie, and he's willing to try just about anything. 

Jack seems like a pretty good kid.  When his dad tells him to get to the dinner table or help his mom or go to his dad's cousin's place, the Miller's, he does.  Because he often gets sent to the Millers, Jack spends a lot of time with his second cousin, Allan, who likes to repeat his mom's and dad's comments, ("My mom said it'll be a miracle if she (Jack's mom) ever gets over that baby dying" pg. 23; "My dad always said Kennedy was soft" pg. 40).  Regardless, Allan is willing to help Jack out in his record attempts, even painful ones like face-slapping. 

While Jack's concern for his mother tends to overwhelm his daily activities, several key events have an impact on him and those around him.  First, President John F. Kennedy is assassinated.  Although they live in Ancaster, the possibility of bombings are a real concern, and Jack's dad returns to building a fallout shelter started before Annie's birth.  Second, a new girl, Kate Levine, moves to a nearby neighbourhood, using a local treehouse that Jack had been using as an escape.  Kate is an astute young girl, helping Jack see that there is something, other than a world record, that he can accomplish to help his mother.  In fact, her mom believes Jack's mom needs someone to whom she can talk and Mrs. Levine volunteers to help.  Together with Allan and Kate, Jack finds the means to add some light to his mother's life, and remind both his parents that they still have a son who has been burdened with dealing with his sister's death on his own.

In the context of 1963 southern Ontario, Robin Stevenson shares the grief and fears and innuendo of a time unknown to most young readers.  But, by making the focus in Record Breaker a local one, with the grief related to the loss of a family member, the fears about a family who may be unable to rebuild itself, and others' gossip about issues of which they know very little, young readers will be able to empathize.  Even so, whether global or local, these issues can be devastating, and recovery may seem impossible.  But, as Jack and Robin Stevenson demonstrate, with a little help and a different perspective perhaps from unlikely sources, there is hope.

When I Was Eight

by Christy Jordan-Fenton and Margaret Pokiak-Fenton

Illustrated by Gabrielle Grimard

Annick Press

978-1-55451-490-8

32 pp.

Ages 6-9

February, 2013

The retelling of a story in a different format rarely amounts to anything distinctive.  Whether in graphic format or picture book or movie, many stories are just abridged versions or subsets of the original or greater work.  When I Was Eight is that one story that is not only distinctive, it is exceptional. 

A picture book version of Margaret Pokiak-Fenton's true story of her experiences at residential school, originally told in Fatty Legs (Annick, 2010), When I Was Eight is an even more powerful read due to its emphasis on concise, affective text coupled with Gabrielle Grimard's quietly unpretentious artwork.

Regardless of her father's reluctance to deliver her to the residential school, Olemaun's desire to read convinces him of the value of sending her away for additional schooling.  There Olemaun is converted outwardly into Margaret, the girl with short hair who wears the required tunics and wool stockings and labours at her cleaning chores.  But by making it clear that she believes she should be learning to read, Margaret incurs the wrath of one mean-spirited nun whose desire to humiliate and scare the young girl both torments and challenges her. 

The stories of the residential schools are involved and harrowing, and Margaret's tale is not any different.  What is unique is her passionate desire to learn to read which consequently points her towards the school.  In fact, she learns to read in spite of the schooling and treatment she endures there.  Without her strong character and sense of justice, Margaret may have taken nothing from the residential school experience except abuse and loss of self.  Instead, Olemaun keeps with her the valuable learning both pre- and post-schooling, and uses it to help her reconfigure herself so that she is less a stranger at home than many other children from the school.  While her return to Banks Island as an awkward local is addressed in A Stranger at Home (Annick, 2011), the sequel to Fatty Legs and When I Was Eight, Oleamun/Margaret's struggle and ability to manage her own life has her returning to her homeland as a reader, fulfilling her foremost desire.

Taking the Reins: Book Launch (Campbell River)

Coteau Books

proudly announces

the launch of

Taking the Reins
 by Dayle Campbell Gaetz
 

Saturday, May 4th 

at 1:30 pm

Campbell River Library
Campbell River, BC

Join

Coteau author Dayle Campbell Gaetz  

and 

Dundurn author Kristin Butcher 

as they launch their new novels for teens.
 

• Refreshments
• Prizes
• Books for sale

Everyone is welcome!

Danny, Who Fell in a Hole

Written by Cary Fagan
Illustrated by Milan Pavlovic
Groundwood Books
978-1-55498-311-7
116 pp.
Ages 7-11
2013

Danny, Who Fell in a Hole is about a boy named Danny who, you guessed it, fell in a hole.  Yep. It's true.  And the answers to the questions of why Danny fell in the hole, what happened when he fell in the hole, and how he gets out of the hole, are essentially the whole story of Danny, Who Fell in a Hole.  Fortunately, with Cary Fagan's honest humour and Milan Pavlovic's quirky illustrations, the reader can be assured that Danny's story will be more farcical than tragic.

Danny's parents seem to be the new sort that decide to put their own needs ahead of those of their children, planning to temporarily part ways so that they might pursue their separate creative interests.  Mom plans on moving to Banff to extend her cheesecake-baking talents, while Dad will be heading to New York City to explore opera singing.  But, there are no worries about the kids, Danny and his older brother Doug (who would probably accept their decision more easily because of his musical creativity), as Mom and Dad have already decided about living arrangements, even giving their dog Thwack away to a nearby farm before springing their news on their children.  Not surprising, Danny does not take the news well, grabbing his backpack and running off and unfortunately falling into a large hole on a construction site.

Mom and Dad may have been expecting Danny to find it difficult to accept their decision,

"Danny, we knew it would be a little harder for you.  You're the level-headed one in the family.  It's not your fault that you're not creative like the rest of us." (pg. 14)

but they could not have foreseen the character and maturity he demonstrates while trapped in that hole.  Not only does he complete his math homework and write a family zombie story, he devises some shelter from the rain, plays a harmonica for a visiting mole, comes up with some imaginative definitions for a vocabulary assignment, and saves a life.  Not bad for a child with no creativity!

Cary Fagan does not disappoint, taking Danny from the incredulous son of self-indulgent parents to the practical boy who takes inventory of his backpack's contents, always playing out in his mind what his parents would be thinking or saying.

   Hey, Sheila, you don't suppose our son has run away?
   No, not Danny.  He's too sensible. Doesn't have the imagination. (pg. 43)

As imaginative as Danny, Cary Fagan conceives a chatty Mole with the casual demeanour of one who speaks his mind, without being catty or cagey.   

"Hey, Darnit, you seem a little down in the dung." (pg. 73)

"Problem with ants, you eat a few dozen and you're hungry half an hour later." (pg. 79)

While young readers may connect with the shortcomings of Danny's parents', and delight in the boy's quest for some say in the direction his life was taking, Cary Fagan ensures that everyone is able to see the other perspective without giving in or up.  With lightness and the clarity that comes from being stuck in a dark hole, both Danny and his parents are able find their way out of the void and come up for air, sharing it with those who might have sought to suck the life out of their lives.

So, if you ever fall into a hole, keep your head, share your thoughts, and keep working until you find your way above ground.  Danny, Who Fell in a Hole did and everything worked out the better for it.

Hoogie in the Middle

Written by Stephanie McLellan

Illustrated by Dean Griffiths

Pajama Press

978-1-927485-28-6

32 pp.

Ages 3-7

On sale: April 26, 2013 

"Too big.  Too small.  No room for me at all."

This is the plight of the middle child or, in the case of Hoogie, middle monster.  Not as impressive as the first born, Pumpkin, to whom all things come first and whose firsts are always applauded.  Not as adored as the baby of the family, Tweezle, whose needs are many and who is cherished to hold all memories of youth and cuteness.  Hoogie tries to be responsible and capable like Pumpkin and then tries to be free and helpless like Tweezle.  But, she is neither.  She feels like the hole in the middle of a donut.  Empty.

When the emptiness in Hoogie builds, it creates an explosion of emotions that has her parents finally directing their attention and love to their very pink, middle monster-child, helping her see that middles can be empowered to become the fulcrum upon which all others unify and balance.

Stephanie McLellan has taken a different spin on the middle child woes with Dean Griffith's adorable monster family, a family of greens, blues and pink, in which gender is insignificant but birth order seems to be everything.  Though the reader can discern the genders of the characters by carefully placed pronouns and the girls' dresses, it is irrelevant.  The family dynamics are played out according to how Mom and Dad interact with their "little monsters" and how their little ones consequently feel about themselves.

While Stephanie McLellan's text and Dean Griffith's illustrations ensure that Mom and Dad are seen as engaged parents who really try to be there for all their children, it's easy to understand how overwhelming it is to meet the needs of all of them, especially if their children may not be clear on what they need.  When Hoogie finally finds her voice and demands the attention of her parents, they immediately tell her and, best of all, show her that she is "the sun in the middle of the solar system" and the "pearl in the middle of the oyster."  Hoogie and her parents may not know it but current research (Salmon and Schumann, 2011) suggests that, as a middle monster, Hoogie is learning the skills and strategies that will help her navigate adulthood successfully.  Stephanie McLellan and Dean Griffith probably didn't even realize how successful they'd been in delivering that little message to little monsters and their parents everywhere.


You've got to check the sweetest post by Hoogie at Pajama Press' blog, Pajama Party, called The Worst Parts of Being a Middle Child.  Adorable!


References:
Li, Anita. (2012, September 6). Being middle child isn't so bad. The Globe and Mail. Retrieved at http://m.theglobeandmail.com/life/parenting/being-middle-child-isnt-so-bad/article2115052/?service=mobile  on April 23, 2013.

Salmon, C. and Schumann, K. (2011) The Secret Power of Middle Children: How Middle-Borns Can Harness Their Unexpected and Remarkable Abilities. Hudson Street Press: New York.