The Hare with the Amber Eyes

The Hare with the Amber Eyes
Edmund de Waal

I am not much of a reader of biographies - only those of specific individuals I admire. But in order to see how Cardiff librarians run their book clubs, I thought I would read this and attend the meeting at Cathays. 

Edmund de Waal has a fascinating family history, spanning many nations, and measured in this book by the presence of netsuke, small Japanese figures collected by his ancestors. They are initially collected by Charles Ephrussi, a Russian immigrant in Paris, at the height of their popularity. The figures move from here, to Vienna, to England and finally back to Japan with de Waal's uncle, Iggy. 

I really enjoyed reading through the context of the journey - learning the details of the Ephrussi's attempts at assimilation into Vienna between the wars, and their eventual exclusion from the city during the Nazi reign. They were an incredibly adaptable family, spreading themselves through Europe and later into South America and the far East. And yet, despite their best efforts, anti-Semitism was too ripe to bring the family peace. 

Some elements of the story seemed too good to be true - many of the family's fortunes came thanks to their wealth, but the survival of the netsuke was incredible. During the Nazi occupation, the Ephrussi household was taken over by the Nazi bureaucracy, and their property was scattered amongst the Ayrian elite. But the netsuke escaped attention, and were smuggled to safety in the folds of the apron of the family maid. 

I would have liked to have learned more about de Waal's grandmother, Elisabeth. She was the daughter of the glamorous Baroness Emmy, a fashionable, sophisticated woman - but unlike her mother, Elisabeth had little fashion sense and was a determined, academic young woman. She fought for her education, and later fought to get her family out of Vienna during the Second World War. And after the war, she fought to regain possession of all the art and property her family lost during the Nazi occupation. I admired Elisabeth, a woman who seemed completely ahead of her time. 

The end of the novel left me wondering what might happen next to the netsuke and to the Ephrussi family, now diluted by marriage and spread across the world. 

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me?

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? (And Other Concerns)
Mindy Kaling
New York, Ebury, 2013, 223p

I hugely enjoyed my time with Mindy Kaling. Part of me wants to call her my guilty pleasure, but I have nothing to be ashamed of - I love her writing and acting; if I was a girly girl, I would want to be like her: self assured, embarrassed by nothing, beautiful. 

Is Everyone Hanging Out Without Me? is Kaling's hilarious biography. She recounts her school days, her wild ambition coupled with boring jobs, and her eventual success when she joined the writers of The Office. Her book combines extended lists with long prose accounts, and carries the air of someone trying not to give advice (and sort of failing). 

Kaling possesses a ridiculous amount of passion and knowledge about comedy, listing her favourite comedy moments and recounting friendships that just didn't work out because the other person wasn't as in to it as she is. Since writing this book, Kaling has created her own sitcom, The Mindy Project, and I would have loved this book to contain more of her crazy confessions about this.

A few days after having finished this book, I am still laughing as I recall little snippets of her humour. In particular, I have adopted Kaling's approach to jogging, which is to fantastise about imaginary revenge scenarios. Despite initially finding this idea hilarious, in practice it has proven to really occupy the mind and distract from the pain of running. 

Kaling is open and honest with her reader, telling her most awkward moments and biggest celebrity crushes. But throughout, she is explicitly happy with who she is - she is unapologetic and doesn't really care what anyone thinks, despite confessing to a fascinating with fashion and dieting, interests conventionally possessed by those who care too much what other people thinks. In this way, she has even challenged some of the subconscious presumptions I had about women. She doesn't try and claim that her experiences are the same as any other woman's experiences, and that is what I love most. 

Chick

Chick
Hannah Lowe
Tarset, Bloodaxe, 2013, 71p

For National Poetry Day, I thought I would do a write up about some poetry! 

I have been dipping in and out of Chick for a few weeks, sneaking poems in coffee breaks and quiet moments. Last year, she was commended in the Forward Book of Poetry, and now I am honoured to be working with the Forward Foundation this year, so thought I would do some extracurricular research.

Hannah Lowe's first collection is an autobiographical exploration of her childhood, with a focus upon her relationship with her father. A mysterious and secretive figure of her memories, he was a Chinese-black Jamaican migrant, who only seems to have become part of her life towards his death. 

The poems are emotive and innocent, drawing from Lowe's memories of her youth. There are gaps and moments of hyperbole, where reality has blurred at the edges with time. But the poems are incredibly visual, creating a picture through her concrete language and intricate detail. 

One of the projects I am running at OSA with the Forward Foundation is the Forward Young Responses project (see more here), through which we are encouraging students to read the poetry of past Forward winners in the hope that it will inspire their writing. I found that, reading through Hannah Lowe's full collection, I couldn't help but recall my own childhood memories. For example, the poem, Self Portrait, Before Me is so perfectly visual that it brought to mind photographs I have seen of my childhood and my parents, and flicking back through old photos, I was minded to write. 

I am glad I got around to reading this collection; I have been meaning to read this for some time, having been recommended by one of my sixth form students. Oh, how the tables have turned!

Wings

Wings
An Anthology from the First Story Groups at Oxford Spires Academy
ed. Kate Clanchy
London, First Story, 2014, 86p

I am endlessly impressed by the work carried out by the charity, First Story, and by the writing produced by the young individuals who are fortunate enough to experience their program.

Today, we launched the Oxford Spires Academy anthology, named Wings because of the array of fantastical poetry written around the theme of flying. The book opens with a poem about a young boy's dream of being a super hero, rescuing a school boy from his bullies; followed by an account of a student's childhood dream of building her own set of wings.

But there is so much more than that - poems about childhood memories and school day fantasies; letters to fathers, no longer with us; pleas to future lovers and old friends.

The anthology is artistically put together by Kate Clanchy, our amazing Writer-in-Residence, who has created rhythm and flow to the book as a whole. Throughout the collection, some styles recur, demonstrating the impact of Kate's workshops upon the students' writing. But this year's book is incredibly diverse, including poetry, prose and plays, writing about Oxford, Bangladesh and Nepal, poems about students' dreams and some that are completely fictional.

The poems are  mature, emotional and sensitive, exploring what it means to be a young person today. 

Tonight, we welcomed esteemed guests from Oxford Spires and First Story to experience the words spoken from the students' mouths. They were absolutely breathtaking - I am so incredibly proud of all they have achieved in a short space of time. 

Americanah

Americanah
Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie
London, HarperCollins, 2013, 477p

Having grown up in Nigeria, Ifemelu has a fascinating outlook on life in America. She first moved there for university, and over the years, struggles through relative poverty to eventually achieve success with a blog in which she writes about race from the perspective of a 'non-American black'.
 
Meanwhile, in Nigeria, her high school boyfriend, Obinze, has become a wealthy business man, despite a short illegal stint in England. After many years apart, Ifemelu starts to wonder about Obinze, and when she decides to move back to Nigeria, she gets in touch with him. Americanah tells of their lives during the years spent apart, and builds towards a reunion that is perhaps not as simple as either would have wished.
 
Although sold as a love story, Americanah is about so much more than this couple's romance. A large chunk of the novel is dedicated to Ifemelu's observations about race in the USA, highlighting how complicated and unconsciously embedded racism is, and exploring the relationships between different minority groups. This is what I found most gripping - the social commentary about the way race and racism is percieved by the people who are most subject to it. Some of her thoughts made me cringe, embarassed that anyone could ever say or act in such a way; whilst other passages made me reflect on myself and my behaviours, wondering if I had made such ignorant mistakes. And, equally fascinating as her experiences in America were her experiences on returning to Nigeria having been away for so long, faced with a new, different sort of prejudice.
 
But in becomming enthralled by Ifemelu's commentary, I found myself attached to the character, willing her relationship with Obinze to succeed. Yet, for me, the romance pales in comparison to the story of their journey to the point of reunion.

I love Adichie's style of writing - it is direct and clear, and she effectively balances the voices of Obinze and Ifemelu, allowing both to tell their own stories through an omniscient third person narrative. Her novels are long (and I cannot wait to read another), but they do not feel heavy or difficult; instead, they are a delightful breeze on which to float.

Transformatrix

Transformatrix
Patience Agbabi
Edinburgh, Payback, 2000, 78p

No poet packs such a punch as Patience Agbabi. From the opening line of this collection, she calls her reader to battle, seeps rhythm through their bones, and empowers one to be strong. 

Transformatrix contains a series of poems designed for performance - reading them in your head is not good enough. They are written to be shouted and sung, with unusual rhythm and unconventional rhyme that only reveals itself through the spoken word. 

The collection explores Agbabi's observations about contemporary society - about race, poverty, femininity and sexuality. Some are funny and some are angry, but all are passionate.

The first poem is one of my favourites - 'Prologue'. As with a novel, the first line of a poetry anthology should grip you and make you want to read more, and with 'Prologue', Agbabi has written a poem full of pizzaz and joy. To read it aloud, you can indulge in the magic of language as the words roll off your tongue, each carefully crafted and executed. You can feel the influence of British music and culture, 

The book is broken down into sections; the focus of many being women - powerful women, subordinated women, women in love. Each little poem tells it's own story, and when collected together in sections, each part of the book tells a wider story. As a whole, Transformatrix is uplifting, exciting and invigorating. 

Under the Skin

Under the Skin
Catherine McPhail
Edinburgh, Barrington Stoke, 2012, 53p

Omar's family have never had it easy, but now they have a home in England. Omar can't wait for his cousin to come and join them, and writes to tell him so. But Omar isn't completely honest in his letters. He writes about his friend, Sam, when in fact Omar and Sam are enemies.

Despite his school preaching tolerance, Sam is not accepting of Omar. They fight often, with Omar being fast to lash out and attack. Neither are exactly in the right. And Omar's mother isn't exactly setting a great example, bickering and squabbling with their neighbour, Mrs Brown.

This is another of the brilliant dyslexia friendly books from Barrington Stoke, where they work hard to ensure that their texts are accessible for all. The story is ideal for junior or teenage readers, it's content perfectly directed at any reluctant reader. Omar's story is gripping and engaging, with a strong moral undercurrent, and yet you do not feel like you are being preached at.
 
Under the Skin is a story that demonstrates how we are all pretty similar people beneath our externalities. The relationship between Omar and Sam shows how easy it is to judge people; it takes the boys a lot to get to know each other truly.

In the Sea There Are Crocodiles

In the Sea There Are Crocodiles: The Story of Enaiatollah Akbari
Fabio Geda
Trans. Howard Curtis
London, Vintage, 2012, 211p

I am a little apprehensive about reviewing novels about characters from the middle east due to my lack of knowledge about the subject. Today, it is written about increasingly, with authors having varying levels of experience or understanding - so although some of the novels are fact-based and informative, others romanticise or orientalise.

Regardless, I enjoyed reading In the Sea There Are Crocodiles. Enaiat is an asylum seeker from Afghanistan, left to fend for himself at the age of ten, when his mother decides he will be safer away from his family and his home. He travels across the middle east into Europe, placing his trust in strangers and stowing away in the back of lorries and buses and boats.

The story is told through Enaiat's conversation with Fabio, but we are told it is as close to Enaiat's true voice as possible. Tthe language tends to be childlike and beautiful, but Enaiat does not go into much detail, prefering to just tell us the key facts rather than explain what everything landscape looked like. Occassionally, the story is broken up with snippets of conversation between Fabio and Enaiat, as Fabio asks for clarification or detail and Enaiat tries to keep the story on track.

I cannot claim to know if this is an honest depiction of the journey taken by an asylum seeker - especially as there must be thousands of different experiences - but I feel enlightened having read this novel. It challenged me to further question some of those subconscious assumptions we carry in the West and made me feel incredibly grateful for everything I am blessed to have. It is scary to think Enaiat is the same age as me.

For the young reader, Enaiat's story is an accessible way to develop a better understanding of other cultures and experiences. Enaiat is one of the few lucky ones.

After Tomorrow

After Tomorrow
Gillian Cross
Oxford, OUP, 2013, 296p

England is in recession. The banks have collapsed and money is tight. Some families are managing, with careful planning and vigilant forethought; but some are suffering, driven to drastic measures by desperation. 

Does this sound familiar?

How about late-night attacks from the poor, venting their anger through theft - trying to level the playing field by stealing from those who have more? How about being forced to emigrate to France as England becomes increasingly dangerous and impossible to live in?

This is After Tomorrow - a "what if" story. What if the recession got worse? Matt and his brother, Taco, have to leave the home they know and love in a final rush before the border into France closes. They have already lost their father and their grandfather, victims to the violence that has erupted as a result of the poverty that has swept through England. But things are not much better over the channel: holed up in a tent, they live off food rations, shivering through the cold nights. Plus, neither of them speak French. 

I breezed through this book - it felt effortless and confident, brilliantly composed. Although it is not an action packed novel, the pace was controlled perfectly, which meant I never got bored (even in the early pages as the character and plot was developed). 

And the concept is simply genius, especially considering the target audience. Gillian Cross does not preach about class divide or make suggestions about the world economy, but presents a world that no child would want to experience. Without wanting to spoil the ending, I will just say that there is no conclusion to such a situation; but Cross does not patronise her reader or her characters: simply, After Tomorrow is thought provoking, intelligent and relevant, subtly guiding young readers to think about the world in which they live.

Theodore Boone

Theodore Boone
John Grisham
London, Hodder, 2011, 263p

John Grisham writes teenage fiction! Who knew?!

Though I have to admit, I have never read any of Grisham's adult fiction. 

But I loved Theodore Boone. He is a young wannabe lawyer, who gets caught up in the biggest criminal prosecution case that has ever come to his home town. It is the murder of Mrs Duffy, and her husband is the prime suspect. A few days into the trial, new evidence finds its way to Theo - he promises to protect his source, but does not know how to get his evidence noticed without breaking his promise. 

Theo is well known throughout the Strattenburg courts. Both his parents are lawyers - his father in real estate and his mother in divorce - and he is friends with bailiffs, cops and judges. Whilst in eight grade, he hands out free legal advice to his classmates and teachers, and helps his Government teacher with his lesson planning. 

The murder case is the talk of the town, and Theo manages to get his class front row seats. He keeps abreast of all that is happening through his connections and seems to know more about law than the lawyers. Theo is the perfect protagonist - intelligent, moral, and pretty popular, having helped almost everyone he knows with one thing or another.

I do not want to spoil the ending, so cannot give much away, but there are a lot of loose ends at the end of this novel. I know there are more novels in this series, but with so many unanswered questions, I feel this book does not stand alone very well. 

Also, I would like to have seen more of April, Theo's closest friend (but not his girlfriend, Grisham is cautious to distinguish). Perhaps she will appear more in the next novel. 

I would definitely recommend Theodore Boone. Although it is American, and therefore some of the legal terminology does not apply in the UK, I found everything to be explained clearly. Theo is an smart kid, and he avoids legal jargon for his young clients and readers. But most significantly, I really liked Theo. He wasn't too clever or too moral; he was normal. He felt real. 

Pigeon English

Pigeon English

Stephen Kelman

London, Bloomsbury, 2011, 263p

I had high expectations for this book, hoping for something political and daring, exploring the life of a young boy living in inner-city London. I had hoped to be completely engaged from page one, but found my interest wavering - the only thing keeping me going being the sweet, kind-hearted protagonist.

Pigeon English is Harri's story. He is a immigrant from Ghana, living with his mother and sister on the ninth floor of a tower block. He is a good child, keeping on the right side of the tracks, avoiding involvement in the local gangs. One day, a boy from the area is killed, and Harri is hypnotised by the blood, determined to help the cops solve the crime and find the killer. He uses techniques he has seen, such as finger-printing and interrogation. But by asking questions, he starts to draw too much attention to himself, creeping closer and closer to danger.

Harri is a really endearing narrator: he is so innocent, learning about this new country with it's strange customs and language. He talks about the language he picks up at school, explaining the slang, often misunderstanding it's meaning. In a environment of crime and immorality, he is pure and inquisitive, not realising the danger he is getting himself in to. He has a very positive outlook on the world around him, and his narrative voice is uplifting and optimistic, even at the darkest of times.

The novel is also intersected by the narrative of Harri's favourite pigeon. It is unclear if this pigeon is truly Harri's guardian angel, or if that is just how Harri percieves him. Harri imagines the pigeon talking to him, watching over him and his family. The pigeon's world view conflicts with Harri's - it is more realistic, noting the danger, warning him about the harsh world he explores.

So, in terms of the narrative, Pigeon English is original and evocative - I found myself drawn to Harri, sharing his innocence and optimism. But the plot was slow and boring. Kelman was clearly going for a political commentary, exploring the issues surrounding crime in urban areas, but he did not successfully manage that balance between social criticism and plot. Perhaps it was too subtle for me, but I felt that one of these elements was lacking, and the excellent narrative was not an adequate substitute. 

Malcolm X

Malcolm X and the Fight for African American Unity
Gary Jeffrey, ill. Emanuelle Boccanfuso
New York, David West, 2013, 22p

I have a very limited knowledge about Malcolm X - in British school, the focus of the Civil Rights movements tends to be around Martin Luther King Jr. So this was an interesting read, both in terms of content and style.

Malcolm X is a graphic novel about the struggle for unity amongst African Americans in the 1950s. It outlines the youth of Malcolm Little, and his transformation into one of the world's most passionate advocators for equality. Whilst in prison, Malcolm X joined the Nation of Islam, where the fight for black power began. However, Malcolm X found himself in conflict with the idea that all white people are evil, so separated from the Nation of Islam in order to work with white people for equality.

I am trying to offer the students at my school more non-fiction literature, especially if it matches with the Accelerated Reader quizzes. I have also found that graphic novels are very popular, both in terms of the speed at which they can be read, and the ease of understanding text when it is alongside an picture or image. This particular book is great because it also has a glossary and index at the end, so can be used for fact-finding. The only thing left to do is to shift some teachers' perceptions that graphic novels are not suitable reading materials...

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece
Annabel Pitcher
London, Indigo, 2011, 221p

Some characters are just too wonderful for words. The first person narrative becomes incredibly powerful, inviting the reader into a vivid world full of love and curiosity and doubt. This is Jamie. 

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece is a story about a family coming to terms with loss. Five years ago, Rose died in a terrorist attack. Her father turns to alcohol, whilst her mother leaves for another man. Her twin sister has to step up, always living under the shadow of the ashes that sit on the mantelpiece. But Jamie can't really remember his lost sister. And when he becomes friends from Sunya, he feels like he is betraying his father by spending time with a Muslim.

Written from Jamie's point of view, the narrative is full of naivety and uncertainty. The language is simplistic and emotional, with long child-like sentences. This style really lends itself to creativity, as the imagery is beautifully poetic - particularly memorable is his descriptions of the few strands of hair that escape Sunya's hijab, billowing in the wind.

The relationships that are developed in this book were my highlight. The broken family with their lack of understanding for each other was full of sadness. Even though you want to hate the parents, Pitcher has made them so terribly human, full of flaws, that you can't help but sympathise. Jas and Jamie are incredibly patient as they struggle to keep their heads up, despite their parents being absent from their day-to-day lives. 

But best of all is the friendship between Jamie and Sunya - their secretive codes and superhero tendencies make them adorable. Where so many young characters strive to fit in, Sunya and Jamie are more than happy being the misfits. 

This is a heart-breaking story - the tragedy of this family conflicts with the optimism of young Jamie, which is slowly worn away by repeated betrayal and abandonment. The children are the hero of this story, with the bravery to show their parents and teachers what is important, and how to deal with life. 

The Weight of Water

The Weight of Water
Sarah Crossan
London, Bloomsbury, 2013, 

If the Carnegie prize is looking for originality, this book is a winner. Written in the form of a collection of poems, The Weight of Water tells the story of Kasienka, a school girl who moves from Poland with her mother to search for her absent father.

I was not expecting this collection to tell such a brilliant story. When I flicked through, I thought it was an anthology, but instead, it is almost like a novel in it's detail and care. The structure of the poems adds meaning to the plot, as the way the words fall on the page reflect the narrator's feelings.

Kasienka has a hard time of it at school. She is instantly recognised as different - she has the wrong rucksack and her hair is too short. When one of the boys tries to be nice to her, rumours start to spread. Meanwhile, Kasienka's mother searches ardently for her husband, unable or unwilling to move on. Mother and daughter start to drift apart, as Kasienka longs for home, and her mother longs for love.

Recently, I have been reading poetry written by the students at my school, many of whom have lived a life like Kasienka - displaced, fatherless, outside. The poems in The Weight of Water are beautifully written - so convincing that I had to check Sarah Crossan's biography because I was convinced these were written from experience. I'm learning to appreciate poetry as a method of story-telling, and Crossan's book is a brilliant example of this technique on a grand scale. This is such an incredibly unique way to tell a story, and I now want more of the same!