Wednesday, March 6, 2013

Book Review: . . . According to Humphrey

 It's time again for the Kid Lit Blog Hop!  Rather than review each of the Humphrey books (Betty G. Birney, early middle grade fiction) separately, I would like to review the series as a whole.



I first met Humphrey the Classroom Hamster five or six years ago when my boys were in maybe third or fourth grade.  In my never-ending quest for books we could read aloud as a family, I dragged home the first book in the series, The World According to Humphrey.  The boys enjoyed the humor and the funny way Humphrey (who is the narrator of all the books) repeats himself when excited ("I love love love carrots!").  We parents enjoyed smooth, readable prose and a sound message that doesn't come across as preachy (always a risk with kids' books).  Humphrey uses daring, ingenuity, and reasoning (often with very little data, as hamsters don't know very much about how the human world works, especially when fresh out of Pet World) to help the children of Room 26 with their problems.

Humphrey never lets the humans know that he can read, write, and understand everything they say--nor that he can escape his cage at will and roam the school at night.  Somehow, the fact that he can't talk, and that he makes so many erroneous assumptions about what people mean when they do and say strange things, keeps him from being too cute and too anthropomorphic to tolerate.  His solutions to problems are creative, and if they are also unrealistically effective, that's in the nature of the books.  I mean, you don't look for total realism in a book written by a hamster.

Writing level is on the easier end for Middle Grade--a third-grader should be able to read the books comfortably, and by about fifth grade they will probably have outgrown it (for my non-U.S. readers, that's ages about 8-10).

I highly recommend the series for boys or girls, for solo reading or read-alouds.


Now hop on over and see who else is reviewing kids' books today!


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In other news. . . pop on over to Karen's Different Corners and check out her review of The Ninja Librarian.  Last fall I participated in her "Judging a Book by it's Cover" series of posts looking at different book covers, and she has kindly gone on to read and review my book (rather than being put off by the cover, which is hopefully going to get a revision soon).  Thanks, Karen, for the kind review!

Monday, March 4, 2013

Book Review: Escape from Warsaw (The Silver Sword)

by Ian Serraillier, originally published 1956 in England as The Silver Sword.  Published in the U.S. as Escape from Warsaw.

Escape from Warsaw is a children's war story, and written less than a decade after the end of WWII.  This lends a certain immediacy to the story which is, I think, offset for modern readers by the somewhat distancing style.  We are accustomed nowadays to children's books depicting war, suffering, and despair with the same gritty realism that we (and the kids) see on the evening news.  Oddly, in this period so soon after so many children had lived through events most of us can't even imagine, few writers chose to show the bitter despair, death, and suffering in quite such a cinematic fashion.  I have to state right here that this is neither criticism or praise, merely observation.  Writing styles change, and my recent bout of reading classic children's books gleaned from the pages of 1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up has made that abundantly clear to me.  We don't dress like we did in 1956, either (for which I, addicted as I am to blue jeans, t-shirts, and sweats, and very grateful).  In part, I wonder if Serraillier felt no need to describe in detail what too many had so recently lived through.

The story spans the years of the war, being the account of how the war went for the Balicki family of Warsaw.  For most of the book we follow the adventures of the children, Ruth (13 in 1940), Edek (11) and Bronia (3).  But the story opens, not with them, but with several chapters in which their father is taken by the Nazis, locked in a camp, and escapes and makes his way back to Warsaw.  By this time it is 1942, as far as I can make out.

When Joseph Balicki arrives in Warsaw, he finds his home destroyed, his wife taken to labor in Germany, and is told that his children are surely dead, as the Germans blew up the house after taking Mrs. Balicki.  Despite weeks of desperate searching, he is unable to find any trace of them, but refuses to believe they are dead.  In the first of a series of coincidences that admittedly strain credulity, he encounters a young orphan, a boy of perhaps 10 or 11 named Jan, and gives him a token--the silver sword of the original title--and a message for the children, in case he should ever meet them.  The message is that he has gone on to Switzerland, to his wife's family.  One thing that I found jarring here was that he was able to inquire through official channels, despite being an escaped prisoner.  It's not clear who was running the Polish Council for Protection to which he turns (presumably Poles, not Germans), but it is hard to believe it would have been safe.

We then turn to the children, beginning on the night their mother is taken, and move rather quickly through about two years (? dates and the passage of time get a bit fuzzy, which I have to say bothers me--I like to know exactly when, where and how).  The children make a home in the ruins of their city.  Edek, now 12 or 13 or so, supports the girls with small jobs and smuggling, and Ruth starts something of a school among the many, many orphaned/abandoned children.  The hardship of this time is presented matter-of-factly, without harrowing the feelings (unless you stop and think too much about all those homeless children with no one to look after them).  Still more oddly, the fact that Edek is eventually captured and sent to a labor camp, leaving Ruth and Bronia to struggle on until the liberation of Warsaw by the Russians, is rather off-handedly presented.

Roughly the second half of the book is taken up by the reconstruction of the family.  First, Jan becomes part of the family by chance, and only later is the connection discovered.  He and the two girls then set out in search of Edek--and find him, again by chance (this is about the 3rd unbelievable coincidence).  A series of adventures and narrow escapes follows--even though the Germans are defeated, the occupying armies would prefer to put children somewhere safe, and keep refugees out of Switzerland.  In a final coincidence (yet presented in a fashion more believable than some of the others), the family is reunited on the Swiss border, and a happy ending is constructed for all.

I did find it interesting that the author didn't quite stop with the joyful reunion of the family, but includes a wrapping-up chapter that gives them a new home, and describes the challenges each of the four children faced in recovering from the war and re-entering a more normal life.  Each of the older children has significant issues to overcome (can you say PTSD?), but each eventually puts the war behind him or her and goes on to live a normal life--as did so many after the war.  One wonders what illnesses, stresses, and mental disorders it inflicted on them in later life, but that lies beyond the scope of the book.

I found the book an easy read, fairly gripping, and enjoyable.  Stylistically, as noted, it is dated, and may seem strange to today's children, but is not difficult at all.  My largest criticism is of the use of what seem to me unreasonable coincidences to lead to the happy ending.  The note at the beginning of the book states that the "characters are fictional, but the story is based upon fact."  It is not clear exactly what parts are fact--I have to assume it is factual in a rather general way, perhaps pulling the adventures of many refugees together to make for one glorious story.

I give the book 3.5 stars, down from 4 due to the outrageous-coincidence factor.  Still a good read, and a good introduction for young readers to the WWII era, though it would be better with maps.

Friday, March 1, 2013

What gets in the way

I just thought I'd detour here for a moment to talk about what gets between us and writing.  Mostly because right now a nasty headache is making me more than a little disinclined to do actual work.  That includes doing our taxes, writing, or (especially) editing.  And that made me think about all the things that get in the way for writers, especially for writers like me who are doing it as a sideline to two or three other jobs.

For the most part, I've been finding it to be a pretty effective approach to say that I work as a writer from 9-11 every morning (which incidentally works out to 10 hours a week, the same as my part-time job at the library).  The trouble of course comes in two parts, one of which I can control and one I can't.  No control over things like a stinking awful headache or kids who throw up. Just have to do my best to cope when and as they happen, and forgive myself for not being perfect.

Other areas are more fuzzy.  Appointments.  Why not make them some other time?  But it always seems like the only ones available are during the morning hours (probably because everyone else claimed the after-work or after-school times).  Chores.  I try to make them wait until after work (after writing and/or after work at the library).  But what about that commitment to reduce our carbon footprint by hanging the laundry outside?  That means the stuff has to be done in the a.m., or it does no good (I live in a climate that is marginal for drying laundry outdoors, though it is better in winter than summer).  Baking bread.  Gotta do that when I'm home for a longer period.  And those dang taxes.

But here's the thing: none of those things (except maybe appointments and taxes) needs to stop me from working.  I have to get up every 15 minutes or so anyway (I have some issues that make it a good idea not to sit too long).  A five-minute break to work out the bread or ten minutes to hang out the laundry doesn't mean I have to give up.  In fact, a little time to think never hurt anything, when it comes to writing.  It's a little like cheating on your diet.  You don't eat one cookie, decide you've failed at dieting, and go back to swallowing entire boxes of chocolate truffles in one sitting.  Even an appointment isn't a disaster.  I've learned to carry my notebook everywhere, and scribble a page or so while waiting for the doctor or dentist.

Same with writing.  You have a bad day, but get back at it next day.  You spend half an hour of your writing time unclogging the toilet?  Great, you still have 90 minutes.

And as for the headache?  I managed to complete grad school with a headache (my memory says it was pretty much constant.  Given the nature of graduate school, that may well be accurate).  Surely I can write 500 words that way.  They don't even have to be good words.  Anne Lamott said so!
 When in doubt, Stinky says: have another cup of coffee!