Fumbling Through Fantasy: The Hero and the Crown by Robin McKinley (1984)

The Hero and The Crown is a 1984 fantasy novel starring Aerin, the daughter (and only child) of the king of Damar, who is not allowed to inherit the throne due to the dubious magical roots of her late mother, who died during childbirth. Alienated from the royal family, Aerin discovers instead her capabilities as a dragon slayer, and she begins training to defeat a dragon that often torments the people of Damar. Through her unique approach to killing dragons, Aerin fulfills her true destiny. 

I put off reading this book for a long time because of how much I typically struggle to understand let alone enjoy the fantasy genre. I finally listened on audio, hoping that listening would help me get into the story better. At first it was successful. All the family connections and disconnections were intriguing to me, and I was invested in Aerin's desire to win over the people of Damar and to gain her father's pride and approval. 

Halfway through the book, though, the fantasy elements really ramped up, and I got lost. I was weirded out by the magical romance storyline with the semi-immortal Luthe (which shocked me by turning sexual), and I was completely confused by all the scenes involving him. I went from thinking my oldest  daughter might like this book in a couple of years to telling my husband no child of mine is reading it on my watch. 

I read The Hero and the Crown solely because it's a Newbery winner and I wanted to cross it off my list of unread Newbery books. It would have been nice to enjoy the story, too, but I'm okay with the fact that a book in a genre I already dislike didn't work for me. If you are a fantasy reader, your mileage may vary. 

Book Review: The Summer of the Swans by Betsy Byars (1970)

Fourteen-year-old Sara Godfrey lives with her Aunt Willie, older sister, Wanda, and younger brother, Charlie, who has some disabilities resulting from an early childhood illness and does not speak. This summer, Sara is feeling very unsure of herself. She is certain that Wanda is much more beautiful than she is, and therefore much more desirable to boys, and she is concerned that her life may have peaked in third grade. Sara's superficial concerns take a backseat, however, when Charlie wanders off, possibly to see the swans that have recently appeared on the lake, and becomes lost.

I foolishly avoided this book for years because I had it mixed up in my mind with Lois Lowry's A Summer to Die and assumed it was a story about a child dying of a rare disease. (I can't bring myself to read books about people who are dying, especially children.) It turns out, though, that this book is similar in both style and substance to Betsy Byars's Blossoms series, which I thoroughly enjoyed a few years ago. As in her other books, Byars's writing in The Summer of the Swans is straightforward, but distinctive. The events she describes are mostly mundane, everyday occurrences, but she makes them interesting by introducing compelling characters, believable dialogue, and genuine emotion. Some realistic fiction titles are set in the real world, but include events which are very unlikely to occur in the reader's own life. This book, by contrast, sticks to reality and conveys the truth about families, sibling relationships, and early teenhood. Any young reader can relate to Sara, even if they haven't had her exact experiences, because she comes across as a real person.

The preferred terminology surrounding disabilities has changed since the writing of this book, but despite the use of outdated descriptions for Charlie's limitations, there is an understanding throughout the book that "retarded" is a pejorative term not to be used to describe him. If this book were written today, it would probably also include a more specific diagnosis for Charlie, but it didn't bother me that much that he didn't have a label since he and his specific behaviors were described quite clearly. Overall, this is a very sensitive book. It is sensitive to the tumultuous emotions of puberty, to the needs of a young boy with disabilities, and to the ways in which siblings, with and without disabilities, influence, love, and care for each other.

Book Review: The Wheel on the School by Meindert deJong (1954)

When Lina, one of the six schoolchildren in the Dutch fishing village of Shora, writes an essay questioning the lack of storks nesting in Shora, the teacher reads it aloud to the class. Afterwards, he challenges the students (Lina, and her male classmates Auka, Jella, Eelka, Pier, and Dirk), to begin wondering seriously about the reasons storks might not come to their village, and suggests that by wondering, they may set important things in motion. The class's musings about the stork question lead them to realize that the way to attract storks is to give them a place to nest. In the absence of any trees, they decide to put a wagon wheel on the roof of their school so at least one pair of storks can move in. Finding a wagon wheel proves difficult, however, and soon the whole community is brought together in an effort to find and install the wheel and to help storks safely land upon it.

The description of this book might sound a little cheesy, but the execution is anything but silly. The story unfolds very organically, beginning simply with a schoolgirl's curiosity, and spiraling outward into a life-changing community project. The story is inspirational, but not in a showy or sentimental way. The reader is inspired because the characters are so real and so believable, and the obstacles they must overcome are familiar and relatable. This is a book about the value of asking questions, looking for solutions, and working together, but it never preaches to the reader about a single one of these themes.

I did have some trouble with the language that made me consider abandoning the book early on. DeJong often repeats ideas, and even specific phrases, over and over again within the  space of just a few sentences, which interrupted the rhythm of the story for me. I read segments of it aloud to my younger daughter (yes, babies love novels!) and I found myself getting tripped up quite a bit. I can't tell if this was a byproduct of DeJong's first language not being English, or if he was purposely constructing his sentences differently to highlight the difference between the language of his characters and that of his readers. I think, once I settled into the voice of the book, it worked well as a means of conveying that the characters do not actually speak English, but it made reading the book take twice as long as it needed to.

The Maurice Sendak illustrations also intrigued me. The black and white spot drawings which appear throughout the book are quite different from his iconic images of Max and the wild things, but they show his range as an artist. I could see hints of Max and Pierre and Mickey (from In the Night Kitchen) in the figures' faces, but because this is a novel and not a picture book, the role of the illustrations was more supportive of the text and less interwoven with it. Sendak provides the details of how the characters dress, including their wooden shoes, and he shows the excitement the community feels about their stork project in the way they move together in groups. I also absolutely love the original cover, with the children looking and pointing upward at the stork, as it manages to convey everything the book is about without truly giving anything away.

Overall, I enjoyed this book very much. It's as relevant today as it was 60 years ago, and it's a perfect read-alike for Great Northern?, the last book of the Swallows and Amazons series, which focuses on protecting a rare bird species. It also reminded me vaguely of Because of Winn-Dixie, because of the way involvement with the storks seems to heal members of the community of some of their difficulties, and of The View From Saturday, in the sense that the characters come together as a team quite by accident, without fully understanding the influence of their wise teacher.

Fumbling Through Fantasy: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (2008)

On the night his entire family is murdered by a man identified only as Jack, a toddler wanders out of his house and into the nearby graveyard. Here, he is taken in by Mr. and Mrs. Owens, ghosts who were buried there many years before, and given the name of Nobody, or Bod for short. Bod is given the Freedom of the Graveyard, which allows him to move freely through solid objects and gates while he is in the graveyard. Silas, the graveyard's caretaker also becomes guardian to Bod, and ensures that he has food, shelter, and an education. As he grows up, Bod uncovers more and more secrets, first about the graveyard and then about the man who took the lives of his parents.

I tried to read this book the year after it won the Newbery, but being wary of ghost stories, I had a hard time getting into it. This time, I also didn't like the beginning of the story that much. It took me a couple of chapters to warm up to the characters and the concept. Early on, I kept telling my husband, "I get why the writing is good, but I don't think I like this book." But as Bod got older, things started to get more and more interesting, and I began to become invested in the question of what would become of Bod as an adult, and how he might ultimately come to terms with what happened to his parents.

What I also love about this book is the way it incorporates history. The ghosts in the graveyard come from many different time periods, so they speak, dress, and even teach differently, depending on their experiences as living people. Because they are ghosts, though, they also have a sense of the history of the graveyard itself, which becomes increasingly important to Bod as he considers his own place within it. I loved the way all of these people come together to create a society within the graveyard, and to protect Bod, whom they all love. I also love the storyline involving Scarlett, a little girl with whom Bod plays as a child, and with whom he reunites as a teen. I actually think I would have liked even more scenes with Scarlett, as that friendship - Bod's only relationship with someone from the outside world -  is so compelling.

This book really is well-written, and it's different from a lot of other middle grade novels, in both style and subject matter. That said, it also made me question how much of what I have loved about books like the Harry Potter series and the Lord of the Rings trilogy are creative decisions made by their authors and how much are just tropes of the fantasy genre. Silas, for example, reminded me of Dumbledore and Gandalf, while Bod's desire for revenge on "the man Jack" mirrors Harry's relationship to Voldemort. It probably doesn't matter much, as these tropes are used differently in each story, but it makes me realize what I have missed out on by not reading fantasy as a kid, and continuing to avoid it as an adult.

The Graveyard Book is probably most appropriate for middle school readers, due to the violence which begins the story, and the sophistication of Gaiman's writing. There is also a graphic novel adaptation in two volumes, which would be an interesting companion to the novel, but only after enjoying the novel. Part of the fun of reading this book is imagining the characters for yourself, an experience you just can't have when an illustrator lays everything out visually. I also think it would be neat to pair this book with Spoon River Anthology, which is a set of fictional epitaphs for the dead residents of a small rural town, written in their own voices.

Reading Through History: Strawberry Girl by Lois Lenski (1945)

In this, one of Lois Lenski’s many children’s novels featuring the people and culture of a specific American region, the reader meets Birdie Boyer, the daughter of a farmer who has just moved his family from North Carolina to Florida to grow strawberries. At first, Birdie and her family are friendly toward their new neighbors, the Slaters, but their overtures of friendship are met time and again with cruel suggestions that their strawberry crop is likely to fail, and they should go back to North Carolina. The rivalry escalates as time goes on, with alcoholic Mr. Slater becoming increasingly violent and belligerent until even his own family begins to suffer.

This book is such an enjoyable read. Far from being a frivolous feel-good book about a girl and her strawberry patch, this is a story driven by the frustration, anger, and rivalry that arise from the competing priorities of farmers and ranchers. Lenski makes wonderful use of local color, writing all the dialogue in the dialect of the region. Reading the book aloud is a delight, and the language, though foreign at first, comes easily after just a chapter or two. The plot is exciting, and involves everything from fire to illness, but also includes the everyday details of events like a church picnic and a shopping trip.

Unfortunately, this otherwise excellent novel - which won the 1946 Newbery Medal - has a very disappointing ending. Mr. Slater is redeemed in a strange and contrived turn of events that does not match the rest of the book and shies away from the darker tone of the rest of the story. Perhaps Lenski felt this was necessary, given her audience, but it leaves the reader feeling somewhat deflated after such an enjoyable roller coaster ride of a story.

Book Review: Thimble Summer by Elizabeth Enright (1938)

Garnet Linden has an ordinary life on her family's Wisconsin farm, but when she finds a silver thimble at the start of the summer, she believes it might have some extraordinary magic in it. Indeed, not long after she finds the thimble, the drought which has plagued the farmers comes to an end, an orphan named Eric finds his way into the Linden family, and Garnet herself begins to experience adventures never before imagined. Though the 1930s bring about hard times that many would choose to forget, Garnet will always remember her thimble summer.

This lovely slice-of-life story, winner of the 1939 Newbery Medal, could make anyone nostalgic for an idyllic small-town summer whether they've ever actually experienced one or not. Garnet's adventures - getting locked in the library, hitchhiking to a neighboring city, attending the local fair - are not necessarily the most exciting things ever to happen in fiction, but they are enjoyable to read about because of the way Enright describes them. By giving Garnet such a stubbornly positive and hopeful disposition, she makes it impossible for the reader to dislike her, and she cultivates in the reader an unshakable desire to follow Garnet wherever she may lead. This love for Garnet as a character is furthered by the way the other characters in the story react to her. Citronella, who is a "wet blanket" type of character always worried about being careful and not getting into trouble, still chooses to spend time with Garnet. Mr. Freebody, the Lindens' neighbor, sticks his neck out again and again to make sure Garnet is happy and healthy. Even Jay, Garnet's brother, and Eric, the orphan who comes to work on the farm. seem to have a special feeling for Garnet, which only makes the reader more intrigued by her every move.

The role of the thimble in the story seems unclear and unnecessary, and there were moments - especially in chapter two, when Citronella's great-grandmother tells a story from her childhood - where it wasn't entirely clear how the whole story was meant to hang together, but even with these  minor flaws, this is still a wonderful book. I liked it considerably more than Gone-Away Lake and Return to Gone-Away, which I found tedious and difficult to finish, and I found myself laughing out loud or asking my husband (who read the book aloud to me) to go back and repeat different lines so I could appreciate them a second time. (Especially notable was the moment where Citronella, distraught at being trapped inside the library says, "I wish I'd never learned to read." It was just so like her character to react so dramatically, and I laughed in delight at the perfection of that line.)

Thimble Summer is a quiet book which is likely to appeal to more serious and introverted readers. Though there are vague hints early on that the thimble might have magical properties, this is a product of Garnet's imaginative thinking and not a truly fantastical element to the story. This is a realistic fiction novel through and through and will be loved especially by kids who like to read about the everyday occurrences in the lives of other kids.

Reading Through History: Number the Stars by Lois Lowry (1989)

Coming home from school one day in 1943 Copenhagen, best friends Annemarie and Ellen are stopped on the street by German soldiers and disciplined for running races on the sidewalk. After this incident, Annemarie becomes increasingly more aware of the effects of German occupation on her country. It isn't long before local businesses run by Jewish families are boarded up and Jewish families - including Ellen's - begin to hear rumors about "relocation." When it becomes clear that Ellen's family will be targeted, Annemarie and her parents don't hesitate before bravely stepping up to help their friends. What Annemarie doesn't realize, however, is how her own personal bravery will be tested, and how important her own involvement will be in saving the life of her friend.

I haven't read Number the Stars since I was 11 years old, and just as with The Light in the Forest and A Gathering of Days, my memories of the story were very far removed from what actually happens. I remembered the girls being German, not Danish, and I was sure there were scenes set in a concentration camp. Compared with the dark story I conjured up in my imagination, the real thing, though compelling, was far less upsetting. 

What is great about this novel, though (aside from Lowry's writing, which I always enjoy) is the fact that it makes the horrors of the Holocaust understandable to young readers without giving them too much to process at once. Through Annemarie, an ordinary girl, readers are able to imagine how it would feel to slowly see their country changed by outside invaders, and to consider how they might be able to muster their own courage in the event that a friend's family was threatened by a plot to evict them from their rightful homes. Though there is no mention of concentration camps in the story, the concept of "relocation" opens up the discussion so that parents and teachers can begin to discuss what happened with kids and help them process the disgust and fear they will feel upon learning of these events for the first time. The story also gives readers an opportunity to reflect on the hope represented by the Danish Resistance, and to realize that many lives can indeed be saved by the actions of those who are willing to stand up for what is right. 

Based on this reading, Number the Stars is probably the book I will use to introduce the Holocaust to my children when we reach that point in our homeschooling curriculum. Though I originally read it in sixth grade, it would work well for most readers in grades 4 to 8. 

Reading Through History: Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan (1985)

At the end of the 19th century, Anna lives with her father and younger brother, Caleb, on the American frontier. Though it has been years since her mother died, Anna still misses her, and she still resents her younger brother, whose birth caused their mother's death. When the opportunity arises for their father to take a new wife - a  woman from Maine named Sarah - both children are eager for the presence of a woman in their household once again, but they each worry that Sarah will miss her home too much to stay for good.

Over the past couple of years, I have been  reading many of Patricia MacLachlan's newer titles for kids, all of which have a very literary and adult sensibility. Books like Kindred Souls, Fly Away, The Truth of Me, and White Fur Flying seem almost over-written, as though they are trying to infuse themselves with more meaning than they actually have. I was a little bit curious, therefore, to see how Sarah, Plain and Tall would hold up for me, considering I haven't read it in a number of years.

Thankfully, while MacLachlan's newer titles use flowery language in a way that feels gimmicky, this classic 1985 book (winner of the 1986 Newbery Medal) is truly beautiful. Each word is carefully chosen and precisely placed, and the descriptions of everything from Sarah's home by the sea, to the growing admiration between her and Papa, to Anna's and Caleb's own fears about the loss of her, help paint a perfect portrait of a newly-formed family. The historical time period is more of a backdrop than a character in this book, but even so, the details about how the children travel to school, and what they must do to protect themselves during a storm, give good insight into how families lived in this time and place. The concept of a mail-order bride is also something kids are not likely to be familiar with, and that may prompt some questions and discussions about marriage then versus marriage now.

Because of its length, this book is a great choice for kids on the younger end of the middle grade spectrum, in grades 2 to 4, and it would work wonderfully as a family read-aloud for a variety of ages, even including kids as young as 5 or 6. There are also four sequels: Skylark (1994), Caleb’s Story (2000), More Perfect than the Moon (2004), and Grandfather’s Dance (2006).

Reading Through History: Caddie Woodlawn by Carol Ryrie Brink (1935)

It is 1864, and Caroline "Caddie" Woodlawn is twelve years old. Though her sisters Clara, Hetty, and Minnie, have always been treated like young ladies, Caddie's father has insisted that Caddie be allowed to run wild with her brothers, Tom and Warren, feeling confident that she will come of age when she is ready. In this story, which is based on true stories told by the author's grandmother, Caddie rides horses, associates with Indians, goes fishing with her Uncle Edmund, loses her dog, and plays pranks on a well-bred cousin from Boston, then contributes to an important family decision about the family's future lives as Americans.

Like The Cabin Faced West, Caddie Woodlawn explores daily life on the American frontier from the point of view of a young girl. Though historical events are mentioned - mainly the end of the Civil War, and the assassination of Abraham Lincoln - these are footnotes for Caddie and her family, who receive news slowly and infrequently. The concerns on the frontier are more immediate dangers, such as a rumored Indian massacre (even though the local tribes are peaceful) and a prairie fire which threatens to destroy the schoolhouse. Even these events are not the central focus; this is really a book about Caddie beginning to understand her identity and role as a woman and looking toward adulthood with hope and courage. In this sense, it is less of a book about history, and more of a very personal story which just happens to be set in the past.

This book is a great read-alike for the Little House books, as it is also set in Wisconsin during the same time period, and it covers many of the same types of family experiences and conflicts. The fact that Caddie is twelve should not turn off younger readers, as she is still very much a child, and there is no discussion of puberty as there might be in a more contemporary story. The short chapters and illustrations (done by Kate Seredy of White Stag fame in the earlier editions, and Trina Schart Hyman in later ones) also lend the book nicely to being read aloud to a group of children. There is also a sequel, originally entitled Magical Melons, but more recently published as Caddie Woodlawn's Family, which tells stories from the points of view of some of Caddie's brothers and sisters.

Reading Through History: The Slave Dancer by Paula Fox (1973)

It is 1840, and Jessie lives with his mother and sister in New Orleans, where he sometimes plays the fife to earn a few coins. One day, his playing is heard by a sailor who arranges to have him kidnapped and brought to a slave ship. Over the next four months, Jessie witnesses firsthand the horrors of the slave trade as he is forced to do the bidding of various members of the crew, and to dance the slaves. Jessie spends much of his time waiting to return home, but there are many hardships ahead before he will see New Orleans again.

This 1974 Newbery Medal winner is quite a book. While it is not necessarily an enjoyable read, given the brutality of the way the slaves - and Jessie - are treated, it is really beautifully written. Author Paula Fox uses perfect comparisons and apt descriptions to round out each of the characters, even the minor ones, and she paints a clear, if disturbing, portrait of life on a slave ship. Since the story is written in first person, the reader has an eyewitness's point of view on everything that happens, and Jessie's anger, revulsion, fear, and yearning for home easily become the reader's own emotions, too.

An especially effective feature of this book is the "History" page which appears before the start of the story proper. The information provided on this page includes the name of the ship and those  of every crew member on board, as well as the number of slaves the ship carries, the date of its shipwreck, and the number of survivors - which is only two. Reading just this one short list piques the reader's interest by prompting lots of questions about the fate of the ship, and which two characters might be the survivors.

For young readers who haven't learned much about slavery, this book does require some context. There is a lot of information about where slavery is and is not legal during this time period, which is a bit confusing, since it is almost all delivered through dialogue, and with little explanation. A map would also be useful to have on hand, as the route the ship takes is very straightforward at first, but it's hard to imagine without a visual aid where Jessie ends up after the shipwreck.

The Slave Dancer is definitely not a book to read for entertainment, but the beauty of the language and the importance of the subject matter make it a worthwhile read for upper elementary or middle school students studying slavery. Other historical fiction novels that are similar to this one in terms of theme and writing style include The Captive, Crispin: The Cross of Lead, and Weasel.

Reading Through History: A Gathering of Days by Joan W. Blos (1979)

From 1830 to 1832, Catherine Cabot Hill keeps a diary about the daily events of her life in New England, an account which she later passes on to her great-granddaughter. Diary entries cover everything from attendance at the one-room schoolhouse and keeping the Sabbath, to assisting an escaped slave, saying goodbye to a best friend, and adjusting to the arrival of a new stepmother.

Like The Light in the Forest, this is a book I remember loving in middle school. Though diary fiction is so popular now, there were fewer books in that format when I was a kid, and I was always fascinated with them. I remember enjoying this and Nothing But the Truth by Avi both because of their documentary format. However, as with The Light in the Forest, my memories of A Gathering of Days were not at all accurate. For one thing, I was sure this book was a romance novel, and it decidedly is not. I admit, it would have been odd for my seventh grade English teacher to assign a romance, but somehow that has not stopped me from re-imagining the book as such over the years. I also remembered the story being very easy to read, which led me to remember the language as contemporary-sounding. It turns out that the language is actually a lot more dense, and more beautiful, than my twelve-year-old self was apparently able to appreciate. It reads much more like the Newbery winner it is than I expected. Unlike My Brother Sam is Dead, which is intentionally written in 1970s parlance to make the story more accessible, A Gathering of Days reads like a diary written during the 1830s, with all the formalities of usage and syntax that would have been common for teens of the time.

A Gathering of Days is a nice introduction to everyday American living in the early 19th century. I think students often spend a lot of time learning about the Civil War, but not as much exploring how the average person lived during the more peaceful parts of the 19th century. Historical events do affect the characters in this book, but they do so in the same way the news of our day affects us - it happens, we deal with it, and we continue living our lives. Though slaves escape and girls leave home to work in factories, Catherine is more concerned with the ailments of her best friend, and the introduction of a stepmother into her home. The fact that Catherine is such a relatable character with thoughts and emotions similar to young teens of the 21st century might encourage even reluctant readers of historical fiction to give this story a chance.

As a history lesson on its own, this book would be rather thin, but as an introduction to the time period, or supplemental reading to emphasize what it was truly like to live in New England during the 1830s, it is a must-read. Though the time periods are quite different, this book actually makes a perfect read-alike for Catherine, Called Birdy, and for Sondok, Princess of the Moon and Stars, because all three books allow the reader to get to know a historical time period through the specific thoughts and feelings of one very sympathetic protagonist.

Reading Through History: King of the Wind by Marguerite Henry (1948)

King of the Wind, is the fictional biography of Sham, the horse which will come to be known as the Godolphin Arabian, and his master, Agba, a mute orphan, whose loyalty to his horse never wavers despite serious hardships.

I had a really hard time getting into this book on my own, and I wound up relying heavily on the audiobook, read by David McCallum, to get me through most of the story. I am not interested in horses - or animals, really - so reading a book about a horse where the human main character doesn't even speak felt somewhat tedious to me. Hearing the language in the voice of an actor really helped me appreciate the value in the book, despite my own lack of interest in the subject matter.

Marguerite Henry truly has a gift for writing detailed descriptions that convey strong emotions. She is also a very economical writer, giving the reader only those scenes which truly add something to the plot. She handles time well, jumping forward in large chunks as needed to keep the story flowing, and her characters, even those who appear only briefly, have memorable traits that make them easy to get to know. This is especially true of Agba, whose "voice" is very strong despite his physical inability to speak.

There is some general historical value in this book. The reader is able to see what life was like in 1724 Morocco, as well as France during the reign of Louis XV. Like Adam of the Road, it focuses on a journey, so readers are able to meet people from many different walks of life and get a taste for how they lived. First and foremost, though, this is a story about a boy and a horse, and its primary audience is always going to be kids who love horses.  I would certainly not disapprove if my kids want to enjoy it for pleasure reading - it is a Newbery winner, after all -  but it doesn't seem like it will be a strong part of my homeschooling curriculum beyond that.

Reading Through History: The Witch of Blackbird Pond by Elizabeth George Speare (1958)

Kit Tyler has spent her entire life in beautiful Barbados, but when her grandfather dies, she decides to seek out her mother's sister in Connecticut. When she arrives in the colony of Wethersfield, however, she is surprised by the stark simplicity of everything around her. The strict Puritan lifestyle is almost incompatible with Kit's free-spirited personality, and while her aunt is welcoming, her uncle is unsure what to make of his unusual niece. The only people who seem to understand Kit are Nat Eaton, the son of the captain of the ship that brought Kit to Connecticut, and Hannah Tupper, a lonely old woman suspected of being a witch. Though Kit tries to do good things for others - looking after Hannah, teaching a young girl how to read, making the neighborhood dame school more fun - the Puritans look upon these actions as evil and before long, Kit herself is on trial for witchcraft.

The only memory I have of this book from childhood is my refusal to read it. After Kirsten's best friend died of cholera on the voyage to America in Meet Kirsten, I decided I was done with stories about early America forever, and held pretty well to that conviction even into adulthood. The mention of a witch in the title and the foreboding background on the cover suggested to me that I would be scared and upset by this book, and therefore I avoided it like the plague. Had I known then how benign - and indeed, boring - this book actually is, I doubt I would have been so concerned.

While the description given on the back cover of this book suggests that this is a story about being falsely accused of witchcraft, this is really not the main focus of three quarters of the book. Instead, the story dwells for a long time on the daily life of a Puritan family, showing what they wear, how they cook, when they pray, how they punish, and touching briefly now and then on their strange superstitions. There is also discussion of disability (Kit's cousin Mercy has a paralyzed leg), courtship, and politics, and religion. There are several characters who know early on that Kit is spending time with a supposed witch, and it is not nearly as scandalous as the book jacket suggests. In fact, the entire witch trial portion of the story goes by very quickly and is solved relatively easily, with help, of course, from a boy. Maybe it's because I've read The Crucible, but I was really expecting a whole lot more excitement from this book. It has its moments, but overall, I just didn't love it.

For kids who have never heard about witch trials, this book works fine as an introduction to the idea. It's also interesting to compare colonial life in 1687 in this book, with the difficulties of 80 years before in Blood on the River. Reading the two stories in succession really highlights the progress Americans made within just the first century of the country's existence. It would be interesting to have kids read both and do a comparison. I would have no problem with my children reading this book, but I won't be rushing to share it with them like so many stories I have truly enjoyed. I'm glad to have read it, but I don't expect to think much about it in the future.

Reading Through History: I, Juan de Pareja by Elizabeth Borton de Trevino (1965)

Today's review is of another Newbery Medal winner, I Juan de Pareja by Elizabeth Borton de Trevino, which received the award in 1966. When Juan de Pareja's mistress dies, he is inherited by the famous Spanish painter, Diego Velasquez. Over many years, Juan and Velasquez become great friends, and Juan witnesses many important moments in the life of his famous master, all while painting his own works in secret. While most details of this story have been fabricated, it is based on known facts about Juan and his artwork.

Unlike many other children's books, which focus primarily on their protagonists' childhoods, this book is a portrait of the entire duration of Juan's relationship with Velasquez, much of which occurs during Juan's adult years. This unique approach allows the reader to gain a full sense of Velasquez's career as an artist, and also to see the ways in which the two men influence each other, as people, and as painters. Similar to The Second Mrs. Gioconda, which allows the reader to get to know da Vinci through the eyes of his apprentice, this book allows the reader to see the vulnerabilities and emotions of Velasquez by giving insight into his closest relationship. For readers who are learning about his work, or about this time in Spanish history in general, this book provides a great way to connect more personally with the time period and people involved.

What surprised me the most about this book was that it made me cry. It was such a shock because the book is written in a very straightforward way, and never tries to manipulate the reader into experiencing any particular emotions. Rather, the events of the story itself are so moving at times, that tears are just a natural reaction. I'm not sure if kids reading the story would react in the same way - maybe they don't have enough life experience yet to appreciate the beauty and rarity of lifelong friendship - but for me, it was enjoyable to experience emotion not because the author forced me into it, but because the book itself was just that good.

I also loved the way religion was portrayed in this book. Juan is a devout Catholic throughout the story, and there is a scene where he must face the guilt he feels over stealing his master's supplies in order to paint his own works, and he begins to consider going to confession. The fact that the sacrament of Reconciliation actually appears in a children's novel was a pleasant surprise for me, and one that would make me even more inclined to share this book with my own kids when they are of middle school age. Similarly, I also loved learning all the details of what it was like to be the painter for a royal court, and of Velasquez's particular personality and habits. Everything in this book is interesting and well-written, which is just so refreshing!

I, Juan de Pareja will be best enjoyed by older readers (grades 6 & up) who have some familiarity with the work of Velasquez.

Reading Through History: The White Stag by Kate Seredy (1937)

The 1938 Newbery Medal winner, The White Stag, is a slim novel with many illustrations. In short, descriptive chapters, it relates the story of the Huns and Magyars making their way to their "promised land" where they will eventually settle the country of Hungary. Each chapter represents a new generation, beginning with Nimrod, and ending with the birth and rise to power of Attila the Hun. Magical elements appear throughout the story, in the form of a white stag said to be sent by the god Hadur, a young blind man who sees the future, and moonmaidens who become the wives of some of the characters. The story is based on the author's father's favorite folktale about the history of Hungary, and is not intended as a factual presentation of events.

When I was planning my historical fiction reading project, I opted not to include The White Stag, mostly because it spans such a long period of time that it would be hard to fit it into my timeline, but also because it involves magic, and I am focusing on realistic novels. However, after learning that the author, Kate Seredy, was living in Montgomery, NY (not far from my hometown) when she wrote this book, I decided I absolutely had to read it. I wound up reading the entire thing aloud to my husband and toddler in a single sitting, and despite not knowing anything about the Huns, I was completely drawn into the story and eager for each new turn of events.

Seredy's writing is a treat unto itself. She has a wonderful way of getting inside the minds and hearts of her characters to guess at what might have motivated their behaviors and attitudes. Though most of us know Attila the Hun as a fearsome conqueror, Seredy takes the time to explore why this might have been, and shows how the peaceful attitudes of his forebears devolved, over time, into violence. There are a ton of negative reviews on Goodreads complaining that this portrayal of Attila is somehow offensive, or "wrong" but those reviewers really seem to be missing the point. This is a mythical tale, not a textbook, and speculating about what could have happened is half the fun of reading and writing historical fiction. As with Konigsburg's The Second Mrs. Gioconda, this is a book to enjoy in conjunction with learning about the time period, as it is knowledge of the historical events that enriches the reading experience.

Though the subject matter might be unfamiliar to kids, the layout of this book is very appealing, with a full-page illustration every 2-3 pages. If it is presented to them as an exciting epic rather than a boring old award winner, I would think boys, especially, will happily allow themselves to be sucked into the story. Though the book is short, like a chapter book, I would put it in the same category as Call it Courage and recommend it to older elementary readers. It's also a wonderful read-aloud, and even reading just one chapter aloud to a group is likely to grab their interest. Don't let the negative reviews on the Internet fool you - this is a great book, and it holds up just fine nearly 80 years after it was first published.

Reading Through History: Call it Courage by Armstrong Sperry (1940)

In four chapters illustrated with blue and white ink drawings, this novella relates a Polynesian legend wherein a boy known for being afraid proves himself capable of taking on the elements on his own. Mafatu lost his mother to the sea as a young boy, and ever since, he has feared the wrath of the god Moana, assuming it is just a matter of time before the water comes for Mafatu as well. Frustrated by all that he sees others in his village accomplish, Mafatu decides to run away and prove his courage by facing his fears and hoping the god Maui will see him through.

The appeal of this book is mostly lost on me. Ever since I was forced to read The Cay in sixth grade, I have had a disdain for shipwreck books, and having just read The Captive, I wasn't really ready for another one. In fact, Mafatu's experiences in this book were so similar to what happens to Julian in The Captive that I kept forgetting which details belonged to which story. The writing is concise and straightforward, but I had trouble empathizing with Mafatu, and even in the most suspenseful moments of the story, I was more eager to stop reading than I was to find out what would happen next. It felt like it took me longer to get through this book than it typically takes for me to read 300 pages. 

What I do like about this book, despite the problems I had connecting with it, is the lesson. Mafatu is afraid because of something terrible that happened to him, and he sees himself as a coward. Others in his village ascribe this attribute to him as well, but their opinions seem to matter only because Mafatu is so down on himself. It is inspiring to read a story in which a character does hard things for the sake of proving to himself he can do them. Each time Mafatu has a victory - handcrafting his own knife, killing a hammerhead shark, fighting an octopus, building a seaworthy boat - the reader has the opportunity to reflect on his own obstacles and consider whether they are as insurmountable as they seem. 

Though it's not my favorite, I think there are plenty of kids who would love this book. It has some things in common with some of the more exciting Calvin Coconut books (Man Trip, Hero of Hawaii), and with Gary Paulsen's wilderness survival stories, which are popular, and it includes lots of details about building shelters and boats, making tools, starting fires, and hiding from enemies. Suggest it to adventure lovers in grades 4 to 7. 

Reading Through History: The Trumpeter of Krakow by Eric P. Kelly (1928)

In 1241, a young trumpeter of Krakow, Poland perished as he upheld his vow to sound the trumpet every hour and succumbed to a Tartar's arrow.  220 years later, in 1461, the trumpet still sounds the Heynal day and night, but with a broken note that imitates how the young trumpeter sounded when the arrow pierced him all those years ago. The new trumpeter, Pan Andrew Charnetski, has come to Krakow to stay with relatives while he waits to deliver a valuable object to the king. When he learns that his relatives have been killed, Pan Andrew and his wife and son, Joseph must conceal their identities. Pan Andrew's role as the night trumpeter is meant to keep him out of harm's way but it is only a matter of time before his enemies catch up to him. Then it is 15-year-old Joseph who must come up with a plan to save his family and the new friends they have made.

This is the first novel I have read set during the Middle Ages, that actually features a functional, traditional nuclear family. Family loyalty and honor is in fact one of the main themes of the book and one of the motivations behind Joseph's actions. The story as a whole is a struggle between good and evil, which favors humility, hard work, and honesty over pride, instant gratification, and deceit. It is also an exciting and dangerous adventure which is nearly impossible to put down once begun. Despite its age (87 years!) this book remains relevant because its themes are timeless and its story line is so compelling.

As an educational tool, this book is also top notch. Because it is written in the third person, the narrator can take time now and then to provide historical context or to explain important political implications and religious beliefs. The story itself provides all the historical information needed to appreciate it, which is hugely helpful and appealing to middle grade readers. This book focuses on a very specific city in a very specific time, which could be a strike against its appeal to the masses, but the exhilarating high-stakes plot makes the history interesting in a way that so few children's books ever manage to accomplish.

The Trumpeter of Krakow provides another perspective on the Middle Ages which balances out all the other England-centric titles available. It touches on topics such as alchemy that others do not discuss, and it gives readers a deeper appreciation for Polish culture. It could not be further from the type of book I typically gravitate toward, but I could not have enjoyed it more. It might be my favorite of the historical fiction books I've read so far this year, and it is definitely among my favorite Newbery books.

The edition I read featured a series of intricate line drawings by Janina Domanska. These are certainly excellent in their own right, but they do fall a bit flat when compared with the original illustrations by Angela Pruszynska, which I was able to see thanks to inter-library loan. The original pictures include three full-color pages, one of which actually includes the music for the Heynal, and many other line drawings which depict the locations mentioned in the story. Certainly, it helps that the illustrator was from Krakow because she could easily draw from real life inspiration. Unfortunately, she tragically disappeared during the Nazi invasion of Poland, and she only illustrated this and two other children's books, both stories of Polish history by Eric P. Kelly:  The Blacksmith of Vilno and The Golden Star of Halich. Knowing this makes me want to especially encourage readers to seek out the original illustrations.

The violence of the prologue scene where the trumpeter dies and the suspense of later scenes where the Charnetskis are in danger of losing their lives make this book most appropriate for middle school or even high school students. Polish history is not frequently high on the list of priority subjects to be taught, but for the chance to use this book alone I would highly recommend finding a way to work it into every curriculum.

Reading Through History: Crispin: The Cross of Lead by Avi (2002)

Known to most only as "Asta's son," Crispin lives with his mother in a peasant village in 1377 England. When his mother dies, the village steward suddenly turns on Crispin, accusing him of stealing and naming him a "wolf's head" who can be killed by anyone on sight. When the priest who tries to help him escape is murdered, Crispin is alone in the world until he meets Bear, the last man standing in a village wiped out by the plague. Crispin pledges his loyalty to Bear, who teaches him to play music and ultimately helps Crispin uncover the true reason he is so despised.

In this story, Avi narrows his focus to just one main relationship - the growing friendship between Crispin and Bear - and uses it as a vehicle to introduce the reader to details about the time period. Whereas the other medieval characters I have read about so far have been fairly well-off financially, Crispin is a peasant in the feudal system, and because of his poverty, this story is darker than any of the others. The story opens with his mother's burial in a pauper's grave, and things only get worse from there. This is not necessarily a problem, as the violent scenes in the story are never sensationalized, but it does strike me as odd that the author expects the same audience who is supposed to be too naive to figure out that Crispins's parents weren't married to also cope with murder and corpses.

Part of my motivation for reading children's historical fiction novels is that I hope to homeschool my kids when they are of school age, and I need to become more familiar with history and historical fiction to feel like I have a strong head start. If I look at this book from a future Catholic homeschooler's point of view, I do have some problems with it. Bear and John Ball (the only real historical figure to appear in the book) have very relaxed attitudes toward religious faith, especially when compared with Crispin's own devotion to the saints and his disciplined prayer life. While I think it makes sense for characters like Bear to reject the tyranny inflicted upon them by feudal lords in the name of God, it bothers me that no differentiation is made between what Catholicism actually teaches, and the way Catholicism was twisted to suit the desires of greedy men. If I were to use this book in a homeschooling unit about medieval England, I'd want to make sure I shared the appropriate context with my kids first, and that their reading of the book did not create confusion for them about their own Catholic faith.

Crispin: The Cross of Lead is an exciting story, and it is likely to appeal to kids who want to read about adventure and danger, but it's not my favorite. There is not much character development, and often Crispin's behavior seems to change suddenly in service of the plot. While it is easier to read and written in a more contemporary style than Adam of the Road or The Door in the Wall, it lacks the emotional depth and detailed descriptions that bring the time period to life so well in those older titles. Had I read it on its own with nothing to compare it to, I'd probably have liked it more, but knowing what else is available, it would not be my first choice for introducing kids to the Middle Ages.

Reading Through History: The Door in the Wall by Marguerite de Angeli (1949)

When Robin's parents leave home to help the king and queen during the war, they plan for him to stay with Sir Peter de Lindsay, who will employ him as a page and prepare him for knighthood. When the plague strikes, however, the servants abandon the family home, and though Robin does not catch the plague, he finds himself stricken with a mysterious paralysis in both his legs and with no doctor to care for him. Though he is rescued by a friar named Brother Luke and taken to safety at a nearby monastery, Robin is convinced he will shame his parents now that he cannot properly fulfill the role of page. It is up to Brother Luke and a minstrel named John Go-in-the-Wynd to teach Robin useful skills such as swimming and wood carving, and to help him see the door in the metaphorical wall that is his newfound disability.

In some ways, my experience reading this book was influenced by the fact that I had just read Adam of the Road. At first glance, both books are very similar. Each involves a young boy's coming of age as he is separated from his parents and goes on a long journey to find them again. Reading the two stories back to back made The Door in the Wall feel a little bit more tedious than it otherwise would have. That said, the two books are different in a variety of ways. For one thing, The Door in the Wall focuses on a darker side of the Middle Ages. In Adam of the Road, the main character is a minstrel and there is a sense of fun and adventure in everything that happens. The Door in the Wall deals with plague, disability, hardship, and battle, and there are several situations that are truly a matter of life-and-death. The Door in the Wall also conveys a very specific message about making the best of one's situation and looking for opportunities to overcome difficulties. While it is not necessarily a preachy book, it has a much clearer moral than Adam of the Road.

Though this book is short, I would not say that it is an easy read. Upper elementary students are probably the best audience, though it might work as a read-aloud with second or third graders interested in the time period. From an educational standpoint, the story teaches a lot about the role of religion during the Middle Ages, and it gives kids an opportunity to witness day-to-day living in a monastery, on the road, and in a castle. For a short book, it does manage to pack in a lot of great details which will help contextualize lessons on this time period. Robin is also a likable and humble hero, which makes him easy to relate to even when he is accomplishing feats most able-bodied contemporary children would never imagine themselves attempting.

I am thankful, that I didn't have to live in medieval Europe as I don't think I would have lasted very long! The Door in the Wall is an excellent book, but I recommend reading it in isolation rather than in combination with a lot of other medieval stories as I have just done.

Reading Through History: Adam of the Road by Elizabeth Janet Gray (1942)

In 1294, Adam is the son of a traveling minstrel. He is thrilled when he is able to leave school and begin traveling the road with his father, Roger, and dog, Nick. He loves watching Roger entertain the family for whom he works, and Adam enjoys sharpening his own minstrelsy skills along the way. When an opportunistic rival minstrel steals his dog, though, Adam becomes upset, and in the process of looking for the dog, he loses track of his father. Left completely on his own for the first time in his life, Adam must use his talents as a minstrel as well as his wits to survive and figure out how to find Roger once more. 

Despite its age, this book is extremely readable and relatable. Adam and Roger are both instantly lovable characters with memorable personalities. It is easy to empathize with Adam's frustrations at losing his father and it is fascinating to see how he gets by on his own.  Adam's travels on the road show the reader many informative glimpses into how different types of people lived during this time - a ferryman, a priest, thieves, etc. - and the story becomes much more than just a boy's search for his lost pet. The ending is also very well done, and things wrap up nicely, but believably. 

Compared with Catherine, Called Birdy, Adam of the Road is a much more true-to-life example of medieval historical fiction. The author doesn't try to impose any particular agenda onto the story in order to engage or pander to contemporary readers. Rather, she just tells a compelling story and allows historical truths to speak for themselves. This book is also notable among many of the others historical fiction novels I have read because the subject matter is so mundane. Adam is not escaping an unwanted marriage, saving a potter's career, rescuing a man about to be maimed by a tiger, running from Pompeii as it collapses around him, or saving his mother from poverty. He's just looking for his dog, and his dad. And because the author is such a great storyteller, that is enough.