Saturday, November 24, 2012

Module 13 – Smile

image from www.amazon.com
Telgemeier, R. (2010) Smile. New York, NY: Graphix.

Summary —

Reina Telgemeier’s graphic novel Smile is an autobiographical account of her troubles with orthodontics.  Coming home from a girl scout meeting one night in her sixth grade year, Raina and couple of the girls raced to her doorstep, but Raina trips over the curb and lands face first in the concrete.  She loses one of her front teeth, while the other is shoved deeply into her gums.  Her dentist attempts to reattach the busted tooth, but the procedure is a failure, since both teeth are sunk higher into her mouth.  They try using braces and headgear to pull down the two teeth, but that doesn’t work. The next procedure they try is to remove the two front teeth and replace them with a retainer that has prosthetics for her missing teeth.  Just about the time Raina is getting used to the retainer, they move on to the next step: using braces to move her remaining teeth into the gap created by the lost two front teeth.  This next phase is especially painful, as each time she has her braces tightened, her whole mouth aches. In addition to physically hurting, Raina’s orthodontic travails take their toll on the self-esteem of a young girl trying to navigate her new emotions for Sean and Sammy.  But by the time Raina hits eighth grade, she breaks off with the girls she’d been friends with from elementary and makes new friends, more in line with her interests in art and choir. Surrounded by new kids that don’t try to pull her down, she finds herself more self-confident and is better able to cope with the long-term effects of her lost two teeth.  Eventually, her other teeth are moved into place and she can have her braces removed.  At first, she’s afraid the other kids will see how weird her teeth are, but she soon discovers that it’s all in her head.  Her friends think her teeth look fine. The book ends with a group picture of Raina and her new friends at a school dance, where she finally has the courage to smile for the camera.

Lucien’s thoughts —

Telgemeier pulls double duty in this book, both writing and illustrating this wonderful Eisner-winning graphic novel. I was impressed by how deftly she combined her text and images to tell her story of orthodontic procedure after procedure to attempt to restore her mouth.  You feel for Raina as she faces each new step along the way and can sympathize for the challenges her mouth cause to her self-esteem.  Although she manages to come through it stronger and more self-confident, it was a difficult journey full of self-doubt and pain.  I think this book is a great novel to give to kids who have to have braces or other orthodontic work done.  They can relate to the protagonist and see that there is an end in sight, even if it’s several years down the road.  This is also a great book to share with people who have a narrow view of graphic novels, expecting superheroes and spandex. Raina is my new favorite heroine, sans cape.  Telgemeier captures the ups and downs of those awkward years between elementary and high school in this pleasantly quick read. I look forward to her next graphic novel, Drama.

Librarian's use—

As many kids in middle school have to have braces, retainers, or other various orthodontia, I think this graphic novel is a great discussion starter for kids to talk about their dentist stories.  As Telgemeier writes in the Author’s Note, “I have a lot of faith and trust in dentistry, and how it can improve people’s lives.” The novel can give kids the confidence to talk about a subject that is often painful to discuss: one’s self-image as a result of orthodontics.  Brace face, metal mouth, jaws, and other countless insults are based on kids’ fears of looking different than their peers.  It’s great to have a resource that paints a positive portrait of dental work.

Other reviews —

Just, J. (2011). Smile. Horn book magazine, 87 (1), 18.

It feels like we need a new word for a new form—gremoir?—but until then, graphic novel memoir will have to do. Smile contains fictional elements but is based on a real-life accident that makes riveting reading. Above all, it is about a down-to-earth girl named Raina who has to survive middle school and figure out who her friends really are.  There are many books that deal with bullying, but perhaps few that kids, especially girls, will recognize the way they will recognize it here,  Using the skillful hallmarks of comic style, with speech bubbles and exclamation points, Telgemeier tells an enormously satisfying story about a girl defeating her own self-doubt and coming into her own.

Stevenson, D. (2010). Smile. Bulletin of the center for children’s books, 63 (7), 306.

This graphic-style memoir focuses on the author's years of adolescent transition, from sixth grade to ninth grade; they're marked not just by the usual awkwardness but also by cosmetic trials after she savages her two front teeth in a fall and undergoes extensive dental and orthodontic work. Raina's experiences are otherwise generally reflective of her age—she crushes on and is crushed on, spends time with good friends and not-so-good friends—and they're steeped in her era, with her experiencing the release of Disney's Little Mermaid and the 1989 San Francisco earthquake. The chronicle sometimes seems a little more like a long anecdote than a shaped narrative, but it touches on enough common and emotionally accessible experience for reader empathy. Telgemeier has a fine eye—or memory—for detail, whether it be the thrill of grossing everybody out with a retainer containing a pair of false teeth, the way ostensible friends ramp teasing up into bullying, or the preteen predilection for taking everything to heart. The art has a friendly, curvy-lined informality reminiscent of Lynn Johnston's in For Better or For Worse, and the design is conventional, even a little staid, but easy-viewing. The very ordinariness of Raina's experience makes her an accessible Everygirl, and young readers will find in her a plausible mirror—or crystal ball—for their own adolescent experiences.

Sunday, November 18, 2012

Module 12 – Home on the Range

image from www.amazon.com
Hopkinson, D. (2009). Home on the range: John A Lomax and his cowboy songs. New York, NY: G. P. Putnam’s Sons.

Summary —

Deborah Hopkinson’s picture book traces the life of John Avery Lomax.  He was raised in a small Texas farm “nestled near a river on the old Chisholm Trail” and often sang while he worked on his chores.  He’d sing while planting corn or churning butter, singing old folk songs his parents and grandparents had taught him. At night’s he could sometimes hear the yodels of cowboys who sang around the campfire.  He decided to gather and write down every cowboy song he heard.  Later, when he went to college at the University of Texas, he shared his collection of cowboy songs with one of his professors, who haughtily pointed out “There’s nothing of value in these songs of plain, ordinary folk.”  Embarrassed, Lomax burned his collection.  He later continued to study and found himself in Harvard, where his knowledge of cowboy folk songs was more positively viewed by his advisor, Professor Barrett Wendell.  Lomax decided to write newspapers out West for the readers to mail him folk songs they had heard; he gathered cowboy songs, sea chanteys, lumberjack songs, and lullabies.  He later presented his findings to his class, and after a short silence, was soon greeted with a round of cheers.  He later decided to go back to Texas and gather first-hand accounts of as many cowboy songs as possible.  He also came equipped with an Ediphone, an early recording device.  Most of the cowboys he interviewed would not sing into the long horn of his recording equipment, but would at least let him write down their folk songs; he once met s cowboy who knew eighty-nine verses to “The Old Chisholm Trail.”  He also was able to record a cowboy cook’s rendition of “Home on the Range.”  By the end of the summer, Lomax had enough material to publish his first of many books on folk music.  He would later go on to record the music of Jelly Roll Morton, Woody Guthrie, and Huddie “Ledbelly” Ledbetter.  His son, Alan Lomax, would later join him on his song-hunting expeditions and became a famous folk musicologist in his own right.  The two would record thousands of songs for the Archive of Folk Music in the American Folklife Center at the Library of Congress.  In addition to it’s wonderful illustraions (by S. D. Schindler),  the book thoughtfully includes snippets of famous folk songs that Lomax collected, such as “Git Along, Little Doggies,” “Sweet Betsy from Pike,” and “Home on the Range.”

Lucien’s thoughts —

The book provides an introduction to the life and early career of song-hunter and musicologist John A. Lomax.  The book gives a fictionalized account based heavily on Lomax’s autobiography, Adventure of a Ballad Hunter (1947).  This book is a fun way to learn about a figure in history who believed there was value in collecting the folk songs of regular people.  Lomax believed there was historical worth to the ditties and ballads that people used to make their lonesome work easier to do.  While the book mostly focuses on his early collection of cowboy songs, Lomax would also later go on to record famous folk singers like Woody Guthrie and Leadbelly.  His later expeditions with his son Alan, would record prison blues, the musical traditions of African-American sharecroppers, and hillbilly music from the Ozark mountains.  Lomax’s influence on folk music cannot be understood unless one realizes just how much a visionary he was in recording the songs of daily work life.

I especially found the book to be a fun read, since I had earlier written a college research paper on Nolan Porterfield’s biography, Last Cavalier: The Life and Times of John A. Lomax, which Hopkinson references in her afterword.  She lists several books that she used as references for her picture book.  I also enjoyed that she included some sample cowboy songs as part of the biography.  In her notes, Hopkinson alludes to the complex and controversial history of the song “Home on the Range,” which Lomax first believed to be a folk song of unknown origins.  It was later thought to have been written by an Arizona couple but was eventually established to have been penned by two Kansas men, Brewster Higley and Daniel E. Kelley, in 1873.

Librarian’s use —

This is a great book to use with music, as it contains the words to several cowboy songs.  It would be fairly easy to pair up the book with musical collections of cowboy songs; Roy Rogers and Gene Autry had several music collections that include some of the old folks songs that Lomax made famous, such as “Home on the Range,” “Git Along, Little Doggies,” and “Old Chisholm Trail.” There are also music collections specifically aimed at children that could also be used.  It might even be worthwhile to try and track down some CDs of Lomax’s recordings, which are available from the Library of Congress and have been republished in various music anthologies.

Other reviews —

Cutler, K. (2009). Home on the range: John A. Lomax and his cowboy songs. School library journal, 55(1), 92.

This lovely picture-book biography of the noted musicologist describes his youth in Texas where he enjoyed singing as he worked on the family ranch and he listened to cowboys singing as they traveled the old Chisholm Trail. Lomas taught for a few years, but his passionate interest in music won out and led him to become an extraordinary collector of folk songs. Beautiful ink and watercolor illustrations radiate warmth, charm, and humor, highlighting expressive features and striking individuality. The handsome artwork is full of energy and authenticity, and includes faithful and appealing renditions of animals and bucolic landscapes. Excerpts from some songs appear prominently. Addendum material includes additional details about Lomax, his family, and their legacy; information about the Library of Congress archival collection of songs; and a list of other sources.

Carter, B. (2009). Home on the range: John A. Lomax and his cowboy songs. Horn book magazine, 85 (1), 116.

Hopkinson’s fictionalized biography (defined as such in an informative author’s note) of musical folklorist John Lomax is pitch perfect in its scope for younger readers.  Concentrating on his passion for collecting folk songs from his native Texas, this story begins with Lomax’s early love of work songs and chronicles the fine-tuning of that interest into a respected profession.  The featured songs, such as “Sweet Betsy from Pike,” “Get Along, Little Doggies,” and the titular tune that Lomax resurrected (but one that the author notes ironically he mistakenly identified as a folk song), will be familiar to many young readers.  Illustrations humorously depict the mild-mannered professor traveling through the Texas plains, “clumsy, heavy” Ediphone in tow, searching for examples of our musical heritage.  When Lomax decides to share some of the songs with his classmates at Harvard, Schindler’s illustration transforms the small seminar into a gathering of cowpokes around a campfire peacefully attuned to the frontier setting.  Appended with an author’s note that discusses Lomax’s contributions and processes, a note on sources, and a bibliography.

Saturday, November 10, 2012

Module 11 – Poop Happened!

image from www.amazon.com
Albee, S. (2010). Poop happened!: A history of the world from the bottom up. New York, NY: Walker & Company.

Summary —

Sarah Albee’s book looks at a broad swath of historical periods, but with a particular interest on a narrow subject of human activity: how did different people throughout the ages handle pooping and peeing? While investigating that main question, she also asks what jobs were created for the purpose of getting rid of human and animal waste? The book is full of interesting historical facts of various time periods and is mostly organized chronologically, from pre-historic time and on through to the present.  The author traces different ways civilizations have dealt with the problems of waste elimination, highlighting that the better that a civilization dealt with waste, the better things were for its citizens.  As she points out, poop and other biological waste are vectors for various types of diseases, and a good public waterworks system that successfully handle wastewater apart from drinking water leads to cleaner living and less disease. As she points out, the bubonic plague of the fourteenth century was spread by fleas on rats that were drawn to heavily populated cities that could not adequately dispose of their waste.  Likewise, poor water treatment was a factor in later cholera outbreaks of the nineteenth century. In addition to the main narrative, the book’s various chapters are further broken up with lively illustrations and side text, often discussing new terms (many for odd jobs dealing with waste removal). The book presents facts about water and food availability, people’s daily habits, and health/death records (when available) for a variety of time periods. She also gives historical facts about famous figures, such as Emperor Vespasian, who made his fortunes selling urine from public urinals to fullers. In one of the fun asides, we are told that one of Leonardo da Vinci’s plans for a toilet was to be installed in the palace of the French king Francois I; da Vinci died before his plans were realized. She also gives a brief introduction to Sir John Harington, godson to Queen Elizabeth, who first drew up plans for flush toilet in his pamphlet entitled The Metamorphosis of Ajax. And of course, she includes a section on Thomas Crapper, who had as many as nine different patents for plumbing-related inventions.

Lucien’s thoughts —

This is a fun and irreverent look at history from a slightly different perspective.  The book is factual and well researched about sanitary conditions throughout history.  As Albee points out in the introduction, “toilet talk is funny… where it isn’t amusing, at least it’s disgusting, which can be nearly as fun.” As a book aimed for later elementary and earlier middle-schoolers, Albee is gleefully aware of how much fun can be found in potty humor.  The book is full of jokes, puns, and silly euphemisms.  While intended for light-hearted reading, the book is a decent resource for further investigations, as it contains a pretty large section on her source material. It also has a pretty useful index in the back, if you are looking for a particular term or subject. I found the book to be full of interesting anecdotes of historical figures, from Emperor Vespasian to President Lyndon B. Johnson. This is a definitely the “number one book on number two”.


Librarian’s use —

This is a great book to use when introducing a history segment on the Black Death.  While that is only one chapter in this book, it’s a topic in history that might easily be incorporated into a student’s history lesson on the Middle Ages and one of the world’s greatest plagues.  It could likewise be used in conjunction with a history lesson on the cholera outbreaks of the nineteenth century.

One other idea is that because of its gross topic and simple text, this could be a great book to try to book talk for reluctant readers, particularly young boys.  The side-bar text easily breaks up the chapter sections into smaller, tidbit-sized pieces of information.  It also has a plenty of funny illustrations, and thus has plenty for a reluctant reader to latch on to. It could easily be paired up with other books like Bart King’s The Big Book of Gross Stuff, Susan E. Goodman’s The Truth About Poop, and Sylvia Branzei’s Grossology.

Other reviews —

Peters, J. (2010). Poop Happened!: A history of the world from the bottom up.  Booklist, 196 (12), 75.

In an info-dump redolent with Gosh! Yuck! moments, Albee deposits a heaping history of human sanitation—or rather the lack thereof—and its effects.  Developing the premise that three of the four means of spreading disease—air, water, touch, and insect bite—can be blamed on bad plumbing, she pumps out a steady stream of comments on the miasmic effects of urbanization, waste disposal, and the roles of (not) bathing in ancient Greece, Rome, medieval Europe (“The Age of Shovelry”), and the “Reeking Renaissance.”  She then digs into the gradual adoption of better practices in the nineteenth century in response to recurrent epidemics of cholera and other horrors. The cartoon illustrations feature sludgy green highlights; frequent sidebars offer stomach-churning profiles of relevant “Yucky Occupations”; and if systematic scholarship isn’t exactly her fecal—er, focal—point (“Sorry about the Eurocentricity thing,” she burbles in the preface), she does close with generalized source notes. A good choice for readers who feel that Susan Goodman’s The Truth about Poop (2004) and Charise Mericle Harper’s Flush! The Scoop on Poop Through the Ages (2007) haven’t quite squeezed the last drop out of the topic.

Odom, B. (2010). Poop Happened!: A history of the world from the bottom up. School library journal, 56 (5), 126.

This self-proclaimed "number one book on number two" takes readers inside the fascinating world of excrement, ranging across the historical spectrum from "Hellenic Hygiene" to "How Do Astronauts Use the Toilet in Space?" Albee's focus is not only on bodily functions, but also on the larger public-health challenges created by mass urbanization in the ancient and modern world as well as the ability of societies to deal with these problems, which provides readers with an excellent introduction to social history. With a focus on the Western world in general and England in particular, the author touches on an array of topics from diseases such as cholera and plague to the development of increased sanitation in large urban areas such as London. The exciting format is comprised of a two-color (pastel green and blue) layout with numerous illustrations and photos. Interesting sidebars describe occupations and "hygiene heroes" such as Edwin Chadwick and bathroom fashion. The fluid writing style that ensnares and holds readers' attention from beginning to end. By bringing history alive, this captivating work is without a doubt an essential purchase.

Sunday, November 4, 2012

Module 10 – The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing: Volume I: The Pox Party.

image from www.amazon.com
Anderson, M. T. (2006) The astonishing life of Octavian Nothing: Traitor to the nation. Volume I: The pox party. Cambridge, MA: Candlewick Press.

Summary —

The novel recounts the teenage years of Octavian Nothing, a slave born in Boston of the American Colonies and raised by his mother and a collection of scientifically minded gentlemen that comprise the Novanglian College of Lucidity under the watch of Mr. Gitney. Octavian is raised with a formidable classical education, being trained in Latin, Greek, French, philosophy, natural philosophy, mathematics, and violin. Octavian eventually learns that he and his mother are owned property and part of an experiment to determine if the African race is in fact equal or inferior to the European race. Soon after he learns this fact, he devotes himself with greater zeal to his studies.  The financial benefactor to the Novanglian College of Lucidity dies, and his nephew who has inherited his uncle’s title comes to visit Boston and inspect Gitney’s household.  Lord Cheldthorpe become enamored with Cassiopeia, Octavian’s mother, but is eventually rebuffed when it becomes clear he intends for her to be his mistress, not his wife. Cassiopeia and Octavian are bound and whipped, and Cheldthorpe returns to England furious. After this incident, the finances of the Gitney household abruptly change, and the whole enterprise comes under the watchful eye of Mr, Sharpe, who represents the moneyed interest of several colonial businessmen who own slaves and are very much interested in having scientific evidence that supports slavery. Much of the servants, the experimental instruments, and the paintings in the Gitney household are sold off, and Octavian’s duties now involve taking over the duties previously performed by the now-sold slaves; he’s trained in his new duties by Bono, another one of the Gitney slaves who eventually runs away after he is gifted to a Southern benefactor to the College.  Octavian’s learning is also drastically changed, so that Dr. Trefusis now doesn’t offer classical text to read that have historical or philosophical value, but rather he is forced to translate dry and difficult legal documents and other text that have no narrative element. As the colonies grow closer to insurrection, Mr. Gitney decides to move the household out to the country where he invites relatives to join him for a pox party; they will all be inoculated against the pox.  It later comes to light that Gitney is afraid of a slave insurrection, whose efforts are rumored to be supported by the British crown.  Most of the Gitney household have varying degrees of illness, but three in the pox party die, including Cassiopeia.  Octavian finds Mr. Gitney in the process of dissecting his mother and he flies into a rage, running away and joining the Revolutionary forces, hoping to die at the hands of the British redcoats. Octavian, now a runaway slaves, goes by the name Prince, and is eventually recaptured and returned to Mr. Sharpe. He is kept bound in chains and an iron mask, and as Sharpe explains, his actions have helped prove that despite the education he’s been given, his race is obviously inferior to the European race.  While Octavian faces his captors, Dr. Trefusis has poisoned the tea with a sedative and he helps Octavian run away once more.  The book ends with Dr. Trefusus and Octavian fleeing to a besieged Boston.

Lucien’s thoughts —

Most of the book is told as if were the written account of Octavian himself, a smart and dispassionate youth well educated in the best education available at the height of the 18th century. Several of the passages concerning his mother’s death are made to look as if they’ve been redacted by his own hand, with scratches and smears helping to show how distraught he is.  His time when he had run away is told via epistles from some of the people Octavian meets along the way.  Anderson’s novel is an interesting account of a fictional character and a fictional scientific society, but the fact is that there were several inquiries along the lines of these that were conducted, and often times the results were skewed to support the ideologies of the time that held there were insurmountable differences between the races.  It favorably reminds me of parts of the Neal Stephenson novel Quicksilver. Anderson's book provides a fascinating different lens with which to view the historical birth of a nation, laying bare the hypocrisy of a population that was trying to break free from one set of bondage while simultaneously supporting another set of bondage. It’s a very powerful story and I’m curious to read the sequel, to see what happens to Octavian and Bono.


Librarian’s use —

I think that one of the interesting features of this book is that parts of it are told via letters, scientific journals, and clippings from newspapers, formats that juxtapose very well with the clear and loft prose of Octavian’s writing.  The librarian could perhaps assemble non-fiction books that have transcripts of real primary sources from the time period, and thus use the book as a springboard into real historical research of the epoch.

Perhaps this novel can also be used in conjunction with other historical fiction books about slaves’ roles the American Revolution, like Laurie Halse Anderson’s Chains and Forge and Ann Rinaldi’s Wolf By The Ears.  Even if these other books are aimed at a slightly lower reading level, they also discuss the role of slaves and freedmen during this period of time.

Other reviews —

Donelson, K. (2007). The astonishing life of Octavian Nothing, traitor to the nation, Volume I. The pox party. English journal, 97 (1), 94-95.

This astonishing mixture of political and social history in the 1760s and 1770s could logically have been called The Education of Octavian.  It is narrated, mostly, by the young Octavia, who lives with the lovely Cassiopeia, who is his mother and the faculty of the Novanglian College of Lucidity.  Mr. Gitney and members of the college divine the secrets of the universe by writing poetry, drawing, and performing sundry experiments, among them taking a dog n, showing affection to it, and then drowning it to see how long the dog takes to die.  While the College may remind readers of Swifts Grand Academy of Lagada with all its madness, their experiments are more cruel… Octavian has no idea who he is, but Mr. Gitney’s valet, Bono, makes the boy see that Octavian is as African as Bono.  With this realization, Octavian understands that he is nothing more than a zoological experiment to the college. Mr. Gitney tells Octavian, “We wish to divine whether you are a separate and distinct species.” Octavian, confused, asks, “You wish to prove I am the equal of any other?” Gitney corrects the boy: “We wish to prove nothing, We simply aim at discovering the truth.” (49, italics in original). Later, money that the College desperately needs come from a consortium eager to prove that Africans are inferior to White people, and at that point, Octavian’s education changes.

Anderson is a born storyteller.  His convoluted plot, full of horrors and, surprisingly enough, humor, will keep reader alert. One episode, “The Pox Party,” is unquestionably the most memorable and most disturbing. The pox contagion is near the college, and Mr. Gitney invites prominent people to dance; play cards; consume great amounts of food, wine, and spirits; and also to be inoculated.  He has secured “from a pest-house in Salem, a glass full of contaminate matter from the pox-sores of the dead” (187). Crude inoculations by Gitney’s scalpel soon begin. Octavian’s mother is not the first to catch the pox, but her death is slowly and surely the most horrible… Much of Octavian departs with her.  Most of Anderson’s readers will follow him through Volume II. Certainly, I will.

The astonishing life of Octavian Nothing, traitor to the nation: Volume 1, The pox party. (2006). Kirkus reviews, 74 (18), 945.

A historical novel of prodigious scope, power and insight, set against the backdrop of the Revolutionary War. Readers are seduced by a gothic introduction to the child Octavian, whose bizarre situation is both lavish and eerie. Octavian is domiciled with a gentleman scholar at the "College of Lucidity." A sentient being, he is a living experiment, from his classical education to the notated measurement of his bodily intake and output; as such, the study will degenerate from earnest scholarly investigation to calculated sociopolitical propaganda. Upon learning that he's a slave, Octavian resolves to prove his excellence. But events force the destitute College to depend on a new benefactor who demands research that proves the inferiority of the black race. Like many Africans, Octavian runs away, joining the Revolutionary army, which fights for "liberty," while ironically never assuring slaves freedom. Written in a richly faithful 18th-century style, the revelations of Octavian's increasingly degraded circumstances slowly, horrifyingly unfold to the reader as they do to Octavian. The cover's gruesomely masked Octavian epitomizes a nation choking on its own hypocrisy. This is the Revolutionary War seen at its intersection with slavery through a disturbingly original lens.