Crash: The Game, Book 3

by Eve Silver

Katherine Tegen Books/HarperCollins

978-0-06-219219-6

357 pp.

Ages 13+

June 2015

If you haven't read Rush and Push, Books 1 and 2 respectively of Eve Silver's The Game trilogy, do read them first.  Crash will be all the more enjoyable with the background gleaned from the first two books.  And you'll see why Rush won the 2015 White Pine award of the Ontario Library Association's Forest of Reading readers' choice award program.


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Everything that teen Miki Jones thought she knew about the game–in which she and boyfriend Jackson and friend Luka are pulled into by the Committee to fight the alien Drau–comes crashing down in Crash, Eve Silver's final book of her The Game trilogy.

As debilitating and off-centering as the car crash that has landed both Miki's father and her best friend Carly clinging to life in hospital, so is Miki's understanding of how the game works after she finds herself telepathically communicating with an unarmed Drau who pleads for mercy.  This is not the enemy they’ve all been told about.  And now there’s some weird stuff going on in the game, with the players feeling sluggish and images breaking up into pixels, and then it’s not even being played the way they’ve learned it to be.  Even outside the game, Miki keeps getting this creepy feeling like she’s being watched.

So not only is she worrying about her father and Carly and maybe even Jackson leaving her like so many important people in her life already have, now she is brought before the Committee who question her about that encounter with the Drau.  Fortunately, Jackson's sister, Lizzie, who had died in the game but has connected with Miki from a different dimension, instructs Miki how to keep the Committee from getting inside her head and taking over all her memories.

Everything is a muddle.  How is Miki to reconcile what she knows, what she believes, what she feels, and what Jackson says and does, with what they are being told?  Too many inconsistencies and the feeling of being manipulated has Miki on a trajectory to crash through everything she knows or thinks she knows.

Crash is a fitting conclusion, wrapping up The Game trilogy with a very convincing resolution to the story of manipulation for entertainment purposes by an almost omnipotent entity.  And while Eve Silver reassures the reader that there are happy endings for seemingly ill-fated couples and that for those repeatedly overwhelmed by loss it is not endless,  The Game trilogy is a cautionary tale of finding enjoyment in war and destruction, even if it seems to be only in an action-packed role-playing game.  Enjoy the action of the story, including a number of cliff-hangers, but heed its subtle message.  Eve Silver has shared it so expressively, making it worthy of noting.

Painted Skies

by Carolyn Mallory

Illustrated by Amei Zhao

Inhabit Media

978-1-77227-004-4

36 pp.

Ages 5-7

June 2015

In different parts of our country right now, Canadians are enduring record high temperatures and repressive fires, but Painted Skies will easily transport them to the cold of an Arctic October during which a new girl, Leslie, learns first-hand the wonder of the northern lights from her Inuit friend, Oolipika.

When the two girls go out to play in the evening snow, they bear witness to the wonder of colours dancing across the sky.  Oolipika teaches Leslie of the Inuit legend in which the lights are anirniit or spirits of those who've passed and now play a running game, chasing a ball of a walrus skull.  Moreover, Oolipika instructs Leslie how to safely keep the spirits away with noisy finger play.

Immersing her characters in the true Arctic experience, making their actions analogous to those of the caribou, ptarmigan, raven and snowy owl, Carolyn Mallory similarly embeds the reader in the cold and clear night of a snow-packed landscape and the consuming quiet of a northern evening.  Her text may recount how a seasoned Arctic resident shares the marvel of her world with a newcomer, including the telling of an Inuit tale, but her descriptions of the dancing lights bring the curiosity of the skyscape to life.

Sometimes green, sometimes red,
the night sky dances.
Stars peek through satin pink with
a wink and a flicker.
A wisp of yellow gauze
as the sky
breathes with light
Splashes of purple and silver-grey,
a sail, a sheet, a streak–
with one great gust, gone. (pg. 31)

I don't know much about artist Amei Zhao except that she works in visual development and production design for animation but Painted Skies demonstrates to me that she has a future in emotive illustration.  While the northern lights are a visually evocative inspiration no matter what the medium, Ameo Zhao finds it within herself to enrich that brilliance and meld it with the innocence of the girls and complement Carolyn Mallory's text so splendidly.  Painted Skies not only finds a way to demonstrate the richness of the northern lights but also convey the Inuit tale of its origins while tagging it all with an addendum about the science behind them.  It is a story worthy of ancient storytellers of the north and proudly of Inhabit Media.

Nomad

Written by R. J. Anderson

Orchard Books

978-1408326480

352 pp.

Ages 12+

2014

Reviewed from audiobook
Oakhill Publishing Ltd.
 978-1784331016
Narrated by Lucy Scott
2014

When R. J. Anderson ended Swift (Orchard Books, 2012), Ivy had helped save her piskey family and friends of the Delve from the evil faery Gillian, but had been banished by her aunt Betony, the Joan, as a traitor.  Since then she has been looking for a place where the piskeys might live in safety away from the poison infiltrating th Delve –their below-ground tunnels home–and colluding with her brother Mica’s hunting partner, Mattock, who obviously has feelings for her and with her best friend Jenny to convince the piskeys that they are unsafe.

Meanwhile, Ivy is dreaming of a spriggan boy who is the son of a chief and a faery and Martin (formerly known as Richard), the faery-raised spriggan with whom she has been traveling, believes that Ivy must be having visions of memories of what actually happened, and perhaps these will help them find other spriggans.

But poor Ivy and Martin are trying so hard to do the right thing, for themselves and each other and the people from which they come, and there are so many others working against them.  Sadly, so much is tied up in prejudices between the different supernatural folk.  Although Ivy and Martin are both part faery, they have been raised to distrust each other, just as spriggans, faeries and piskeys have as long as they can remember.  And now, Ivy and Martin find themselves helping each other more than just as repayment for previous help and are experiencing growing affection for each other.  How to balance all their needs and feelings and be true to themselves?

R. J. Anderson is a a masterful storyteller of faery fantasy, easily convincing the reader that her characters are more than just human, even better than human.  And that’s saying something.  R. J. Anderson can create empathy for characters who can change into bird form, wield magic, and transfer memories, while creating realistic story-lines about finding or making home under unusual, if not dire, circumstances.  While R. J. Anderson continues to weave amazing stories–she has a new one called A Pocket Full of Murder coming out in September–she has announced on the FAQ page on her website that there are no current plans for a sequel to Nomad. As disappointing as that is not to revisit the characters in whom we've invested our hearts, readers can be assured that R. J. Anderson has cobbled an ending that will appease and successfully bring all her characters home where they belong.

The Princess and the Pony

by Kate Beaton

Arthur A. Levine/Scholastic

978-0-545-63708-4

40 pp.

Ages 4-8

July 2015

Here's a charming story that is perfect for sweetly demonstrating that perspective is everything!

Princess Pinecone, with the stubby shape and minuscule and pointy feet iconic of Kate Beaton's heroines*, is determined to compete in a great battle competition where all the warriors of her kingdom would be showing their stuff.  Of course, they all have the right gear: shields, amulets, and helmets.  And she hopes that she'd get something of warrior greatness for her birthday, rather than the cozy sweaters she got every year; in fact, this year she has been desperately hinting at a grand horse. But what she gets is a pony: a short, rotund pony that eats what it shouldn't and farts too much.

Princess Pinecone's advice to her pony on the day of the battle is, "Just...do your best."(pg. 19) But it's a mean battle, with spitballs, squareballs (!) and all manner of balls, and warriors being knocked over every which way.  When the meanest warrior of all, though, takes aim at Princess Pinecone, he is stopped dead in his tracks by her little roly-poly pony. Seems the warriors never get to express their cuddly sides and are delighted to enjoy Princess Pinecone's cutie-pie of a pony.  She even helps them all get in touch with their loveable natures via some well-selected sweaters!

She may not have been the meanest warrior at the battle, but Princess Pinecone and the pony are voted the Most Valuable Warriors of the day, and hefted onto a multitude of hairy, tattooed and rough warrior arms in celebration. You can't beat that for cuteness or inspiration.

The Princess and the Pony has all the right ingredients for a masterpiece children's book:  an irresistible princess; a short and plump little pony; a loving family who tries to get the right birthday gift for a little warrior; a plethora of superhero-like warriors; a challenge to which our protagonist must rise; a valuable lesson in being oneself; a happy ending; and a little bathroom humour via a farting pony.  Kids will eat this book up!  Share it with them to encourage them to persevere–and to accept birthday gifts gracefully–but delve into Kate Beaton's detailed and comical illustrations with the abandon of a rollicking ruckus. Everyone is sure to win with The Princess and the Pony.


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*I first became enamoured with Kate Beaton's people from her article in "My Books, My Place" for The Globe and Mail, January 21, 2012 in which she described and drew herself in various reading positions. After that, I could always pick out her illustrations.

Cut Off

by Jamie Bastedo

Red Deer Press

978-0-88995-511-0

340 pp.

Ages 12+

June 2015

From Guatemala to Calgary and to the Yukon, Cut Off takes the reader on a nerve-racking journey from exploitation to addiction and reclamation and finally to self-acceptance.  It's a uncertain ride, with lots of disquieting edges that may look like safe shores and tortuous currents that need to be navigated.   But the destination, self-acceptance, is always evident, though not necessarily easily tenable.

Cut Off starts in Guatemala where teen Indio McCracken lives a privileged life courtesy of his Canadian father's position as a mining executive.  Though the boy also lives with his Guatemalan mother, younger sister Sofi, Great Uncle Faustus and best friend and dog Loba, it is his father that controls everything for Indio.  Edgar McCracken's zealousness–that Indio become a world-famous classical guitarist–is relentless and has him dictating Indio's tutoring, booking his performances, restricting his computer access, and constructing a fully-loaded practise room in which Indio is locked for hours daily. But everything changes when Indio turns 14 and begins to attend the Xela British School twice a week where he finds refuge on the computer and in a blog he starts at www.CagedGuitarist.blogspot.com.  The freedom to share his music and his thoughts, however, is tempered with learning how his father's company has been exploiting and persecuting the local people.  A particularly terrifying event leads the family to pack up and head to Calgary.

With the nasty media attention regarding the mine, and with difficulties he experiences at his new high-school, Indio–now 16– finds the need to reinvent himself so he asks to be called Ian and starts a second blog, BEIN'canadIAN.blogspot.ca.  But a series of episodes at school and at home, and an unforeseen tragedy and horrific car accident indicates Indio cannot free himself from his tech devices.

They just didn't get it.  How could something that felt so good be so bad?  The Internet was buena medicina for me, right?  It took my mind off the pain, off the loneliness.  It fought my depression.
Made me somebody.
They'd see.
There was no stopping me now. (pg. 193)

His family's response is to send him away to a wilderness-based rehab camp called Camp Lifeboat in the Yukon where the "campers" all suffer from some addiction or another.

Simply different poisons, same dead end. (pg. 210)

Through journaling, camping, and a 50-day canoe trip, Indio and the others are compelled to face the beast which they fear most.

Cut Off is a very full young adult novel.  There are the issues of exploitation and addiction and rehab and self-acceptance. There's tragedy across two countries and experiences in the big city, village and wilderness.  The characters include the indigenous peoples of both Canada and Guatemala, and the poor and very rich.  There's also a lot of self-examination, though not always enlightened, and complete oblivion to everything and everyone.  Jamie Bastedo packs a lot into Cut Off.

But, for me, the rampant exploitation, from the mine's impact on the Guatemalan people, to Indio's father's violent fervour regarding his son's musicianship, to Indio's dangerous overuse of his technology and Morris' bullying of Indio, is dismaying.  Compassion does not show up much in Cut Off–though the heart of a few individuals like Indio's Great Uncle Faustus offers some hope–but I guess that's the way Jamie Bastedo wrote it.  His sub-plots are persuasive, though perhaps somewhat incohesive.  And the duplicity and selfishness of a number of characters and the number of tragedies, including the death of several dogs, were hard for me to welcome.  But, Jamie Bastedo's writing is generally strong, allowing the reader to infer much, so perhaps I can attribute my perspective to recent health issues that have me seeking out more positive and inspiring stories.

That said, Cut Off is a worthwhile read as a cautionary tale of how focusing on one's own desires, irrespective of possible consequences on others, is jeopardous. And, given the landscape of the story, Cut Off takes the reader on an experience not soon forgotten.

Child Soldier: When Boys and Girls are Used in War

by Jessica Dee Humphreys and Michel Chikwanine

Illustrated by Claudia Dávila

Kids Can Press

978-1-77138-126-0

48 pp.

Ages 10-14

September 2015

In 1993, when co-author Michel Chikwanine was five-years-old, he was kidnapped with other boys by members of a rebel militia in the Democratic Republic of Congo and forced with drugs, fear and psychological and physical torture to serve them.  Child Soldier: When Boys and Girls are Used in War, written with Jessica Dee Humphreys–who also co-wrote with Roméo Dallaire the chilling They Fight Like Soldiers, They Die Like Children (Random House Canada, 2010)–is Michel’s story, and conveyed with sensitivity, insight and memorable aplomb to inform but never scare.  Told in graphic novel format, courtesy of the bold art of Claudia Dávila, whose illustrations have enriched children’s picture books and graphic novels by herself and others, Child Soldier goes beyond Michel Chikwanine’s horrific experience.  Instead it encapsulates that story with relevant geography and history of the country and with Michel’s escape and further ordeals for his family, including those involving his father’s activism and death, the disappearance of his sisters, life as refugees and immigration to Canada.  Ultimately that young boy, small in stature but big in bravado, learned from his father, and put into practice, that “If you ever think you are too small to make a difference, try sleeping in a room with a mosquito.”

The book’s addenda are rich with information about Michel, child soldiers and what is being done to help, making it a worthwhile addition to Kids Can Press’ global issues series CitizenKid.  But, Child Soldier is more than just a non-fiction teaching tool in an accessible graphic novel format.  It’s the story about a young boy forced by evil men to train as a killing pawn but whose critical experiential learning was about the goodness and value in caring and doing for others.   It’s a worldly lesson Michel Chikwanine continues to promote and live.

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

Kubiw, H. (2015, July/August). [Review of the book Child Soldier: When Boys and Girls are Used in War, by Jessica Dee Humphreys and Michel Chikwanine]. Quill & Quire, 81 (6): 48.

Grant and Tillie Go Walking

by Monica Kulling

Illustrated by Sydney Smith

Groundwood Books

978-1-55498-446-6

32 pp.

Ages 4-8

August, 2015

Although I’m feverishly trying to catch up on overdue book reviews since health issues have me backlogged, I dreamed over and over again about the book Grant and Tillie Go Walking last night and felt compelled to review it today.  

A farm boy in Iowa, Grant was a part of the rural landscape, though he dreamed of adventure and excitement beyond the farm or so he tells his cow Tillie, his faithful companion and great giver of milk.  So off he goes to Paris, hopeful of becoming a true artist.  But, try as he might look like an artist in his beret and goatee, his artwork is missing something.  Just as Tillie is missing Grant, Grant is missing home,  “the place he loved and the people he knew best.” (pg. 31).  And returning home, a place he’d thought he hadn’t belonged, brought the inspiration for one of his most famous paintings, that of his sister Nan and the family dentist as a stern farming couple.

While the Grant of the title is modern artist Grant Wood (1891-1942), the story Monica Kulling has created about the American is a fictionalized account of how he became an artist and the artist of the iconic painting American Gothic (1930).  It’s about trying to belong and be who you think you are and of coming home.  Whether illustrator Sydney Smith feels any connection with Grant Wood’s modernist ways, I don’t know.  But I do know that both artists’ work demonstrates the heart of his community at its core.  Sydney Smith might live in Toronto and not in rural Iowa (see his sketches at http://sydneydraws.tumblr.com) but his subtle, speckled illustrations in Grant and Tillie Go Walking radiate the down-to-earth art of Grant Wood without mimicking it.  Grant and Tillie Go Walking is an exemplary story of how an artist came to be an artist appreciatively told through the words and pictures of two artists in their own right.