Picture Perfect

Picture Perfect
Holly Smale

There are few young adult novels that have continued to be a necessity in my life since I stopped being a school librarian. I am currently basking in being able to read adult fiction, and dabbling increasingly in picture books for fun. But without the Geek Girl series, I fear my life would not be the same.

It is finally time for Harriet Manners to hit New York City. With a new baby sister in her life, Harriet's dad must go back to work, and his career choices lead the family to New York. Harriet and her best friend, Nat, dream of those high spires and infamous landmarks, of adventures through great museums and romantic walks through Central Park. It means a couple of months off school, where Harriet is excited to embark into sixth form, but perhaps she might get to see a little more of the handsome Lion Boy, Nick.

But the arrival of the Manners family in New York does not quite go according to Harriet's plan. Rather than living in a fancy appartment in Manhattan, they are a few hours out of town in Harriet's idea of suburban hell. She has no friends, no school, and her parents seem to be perminantly asleep or trying to sleep around baby Tabitha's naps.

In a tizzy of anger, Harriet decides to take matters into her own hands, and ventures into the city to see Nick and the magic of the Big Apple. But running away is not as easy as it seems, so Harriet manages to upset just about everyone around her. And, in classic Geek Girl style, she finds herself drawn into a world where people just seem to want to change her and trick her and ultimately (though mostly accidentally) ruin her life.

As a reader, it is very easy to get frustrated as Harriet plunges into foolish decisions, from simply running away from home to pretending to play it cool with Nick to make him more eager. But equally, it is very easy to relate to her confusion and desire to fit in - we have all been there.

Yesterday, I stumbled upon the next Geek Girl book in a book shop, and could hardly stop myself reading it. So I went straight home and ordered it from the library. I cannot wait.

Furniture

Furniture
Lorraine Mariner

Okay, so I am a little late on the scene when it comes to Lorraine Mariner. Anyone who knows anything about contemporary poetry must already be familiar with her blunt commentaries on real life and her first lines that make you just want to go away and write. But I couldn't resist getting in on the conversation. 

This collection reads a little like the diary of a teenage girl, growing up, learning about the world around her. But it is also reflective and mature, looking back on the hopes and fears we all share, and those that are unique to each of us. 

This is what makes Mariner's poetry so inspiring - first lines that can lead you anywhere, taking you back into your own memories of being in school, falling in love, feeling jealous or angry or naive. Like Injured, which starts with a line about what you always fantastised about at school - Mariner's dream being that she would get injured and be propelled to the dizzy heights of in-school celebrity. 

Or My Beast, documenting a young girl's concern that her fairytale story would come unravelled by her own inabilities to play the part of princess properly; which led to some brilliant creations in one of our First Story sessions back at OSA.

My love for Lorraine Mariner arises somewhere between Stanley, the witty first poem in the collection in which the author breaks up with her imaginary boyfriend, and Heart, which recounts that universal experience of losing your heart to someone who doesn't deserve it, accidentally "slipping it / into his pocket as he did up his overcoat". She explores those heartbreaking elements of growing up in a way that is so unique and yet seems so obvious - you will hate yourself for not thinking them up first. 

I borrowed this collection from the library, and have had a hard time bringing myself to take it back. Perhaps it is just one I am going to have to buy. 

How to Build a Girl

How to Build a Girl
Caitlin Moran

 I had almost neglected to write this review, seeing as it has been so over-reviewed already, but when I saw a friend reading it and laughing all the way through, I felt the need to offer my thoughts.

All those who know Caitlin Moran know her story by now - a clever girl raised on a council estate who lands a teenage writing prize and goes on to blag a column in The Times. Moran insists that How to Build a Girl is fiction, but it is hard to distance this novel from her own reality.

But it is not the plot of this novel that I want to celebrate, rather the little snippets of hilarity that are simultaneously completely familiar and obsurely unique. The teenage self-consiousness that convinces Johanna Morrigan she is singularly responsible for her family's poverty. The misreading of social convention that makes dressing solely in black seem like the best idea, and her mother's concern that she is acting like a dark crow that has decended upon the household. The naivety that allows her to have so much sex and so few orgasims.

Whether or not you like that fact that Moran seems to only write about one thing, you cannot deny the fact that she is honest, realistic and frankly hilarious.

The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting

The Manifesto on How to Be Interesting
Holly Bourne
London, Usborne, 2014, 448p

It has taken me a little time to come to terms with my thoughts on this book due to the sensitivity of the content. The Manifesto on How to be Interesting is a novel I want to recommend, but it is loaded with issues that should be approached with caution. 

Bree is an academic, creative student. She is a writer. But when she presents her manuscript to her favourite teacher, his reaction disappoints. So Bree decides to embark on a mission to become popular, in the hope that a more interesting life will produce more interesting literature. 

The process is relatively easy for Bree - her parents are wealthy, and her father works with a make up manufacturer, meaning she has instant access to treats to share with her new, popular friends. All it takes is some more fashionable clothes to make everyone realise Bree is fairly attractive, and she has the personality to match. Along the way, her relationship with her best friend suffers; but soon, her crush is taking more of an interest and people around school talk about her in a different way. 

Bourne's novel is a little bit Mean Girls, but with added complexity. For one, Bree's crush is directed towards her English teacher; and secondly, Bree self-harms. Such issues are not easy to tackle in young adult literature - the fantasy element of fiction means many characters who self-harm are blessed with a moment of epiphany when they turn their lives around; many real girls are not so lucky. 

The underlying message of the book is to encourage the reader to be happy in who they are, and to acknowledge that we all suffer from lapses in confidence, even the most popular kids in school. But the challenge that I am left with is how to talk about these matters with my students - not every life has such a happy ending. 

Not That Kind of Girl

Not That Kind of Girl
Lena Dunham
London, Fourth Estate, 2014, 265p

When I found myself painfully jealous of a friend who was reading this book that I realised I had to get a copy. Lena Dunham's biography has caused some controversy already, and although I am not a religious watcher of 'Girls', I must confess I am intrigued by her. 

Not That Kind of Girl is a funny, intelligent and sometimes disturbing account of Dunham's life so far. She talks about health, family and romance, and everything in between. She tells the reader she is a girl with a "keen interest in having it all", and this book is her story from "the front line of that struggle".

Dunham's youth is uniquely peculiar to me. She was born to artistic, liberal parents in New York, and her eccentricity and individuality have always been encouraged. In places, it sounds like she has low self-esteem (for example, when she discusses the common plight of the young woman who settles for a non-relationship with a guy who is clearly not good enough); and at other points, she explodes with self-assurance and good advice. 

I had been warned that this biography is far from uplifting, but it was darker than I had expected, with confessions about her reliance on her therapist and descriptions of rubbish relationships. But within those moments that make your heart break, there are episodes that make you laugh out loud. Mostly, I simply admire her honesty. 

I am conscious I am going through a phase of reading biographies of this kind - those of young, successful, strong women in comedy (see my recent review of Mindy Kaling's book). And I cannot wait to read Amy Poehler's recent release! With each of these women, I find some things to relate to and some things with which I disagree, but what my readings are demonstrating is that the female experience is varied and unique to each person - how can anyone stereotype about women when we are all so different?

Thanks to Jay for inspiration.

Apple and Rain

Apple and Rain
Sarah Crossan
London, Bloomsbury, 2014, 329p

This is such an incredibly and irresistibly heart-warming book, it was a joy to read.

Apple has vague memories of her mother leaving, late one night around Christmas, leaving her with her Nana. And every year, Apple dreams that her mother will come back and claim her again. Nana is loving and well-meaning, and Dad is distantly present, popping up at important holidays; but it is her mother that Apple wants back. 

But when her mother eventually does come home, things aren't quite like Apple expected. She moves away from her Nana, but her mother isn't around much anyway, and Apple has unexpected company in her mother's flat. Apple tries to find comfort at school - she loves her new poetry teacher, but is scared about opening up with the truth; and meanwhile, her best friend is moving on. 

As her mum's absence increasingly becomes a social welfare issue, Apple does all she can to protect her mother from a potential visit from the police. Apple is forced to grow up far quicker than any young girl should have to, and as you read you long for her to be returned to her Nana's guardianship. 

Despite all the badness happening around her, Apple is a patient, contentious young lady. She doesn't get mad at her mother when she is away for days; she is far from the typical teenager. 

Throughout the Apple and Rain, Crossan treats the reader to snippets of Apple's creativity, inspired by great poets and universal themes. At points, it seems like poetry is the only good and true thing in Apple's life. I love the infectiousness of her love for the written word, and I am sure many young readers (and writers) share Apple's fear of sharing her most honest feelings with her teachers and classmates. 

It is amazing that a novel that explores a young girl's confused feelings about her absent mother can be so uplifting and enlightening. 

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. 

Waterborn

Water Born
Rachel Ward
Frome, Chicken House, 2014, 275p

I have been saving this book, knowing that I would love it. It is the sequel to The Drowning and comes from the author of Numbers, all of which I have devoured. 

Nic is a passionate swimmer, but her overprotective father drives her a little mad. She can't understand his fear about water, especially when she starts to become more successful in the pool. Somehow, she finds the inner strength and focus needed to beat the best of the girls in her club; but as time goes on, the voice in her head starts to scare her. 

This disembodied voice is not hers, and when she turns to her father, she finds more questions than answers. Amongst other things, she finds a list on her dad's computer of girls who look just like her who have drowned. 

It has been some time since I read The Drowning, meaning I had forgotten some of the detail. What I love about Water Born is that it is a brilliant stand alone book, as well as a dramatic continuation of Ward's most recent series. 

The story is haunting and modern, a perfect contemporary horror story. I can see similarities with the Numbers trilogy, but the genius Rachel Ward has found clever new ways of throwing the reader off the scent and allowing the mystery to unfold very gradually. All the action seems to happen within a few final pages, and you are gripped throughout. 

I am definitely not patient enough to wait for the next one!

Brand New Ancients

Brand New Ancients
Kate Tempest
London, Picador, 2013, 47p

I had the privilege of seeing Kate Tempest at the O2 in Oxford last Friday - apparently her first headline tour as a rapper. She was incredibly appreciative towards her audience, and her excitement was infectious. 

She is not just a rapper and a performance poet; she is a writer. Brand New Ancients won the Ted Hughes Prize for innovation in poetry - it is a modern, honest story about characters that Tempest says live and breathe in her mind. 

Tempest's narrative poem argues that we are all heroes of our own lives. She draws on traditional ideas about gods from classic mythology - heroes who were human, flawed, real. Then she creates her own contemporary heroes: men and women struggling with relationships; young people feeling disenfranchised; artists looking for their big break and barmaids seeking fulfillment. 

Within just a few pages, these characters become fully rounded beings. They feel anger, regret and love; lines between good and bad are blurred. 

Brand New Ancients is so clever and relevant. It tells the story of the kinds of individuals that young people can relate to; it is solid and grounded, avoiding all the abstract ideas and images we are spoon fed in the curriculum. 

And if this doesn't convince you to find out more about Kate Tempest, watch this video - how can you not want to read the genius that comes from this mind?!

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves
Karen Jay Fowler
London, Serpents Tale, 2013, 308p

Last week, just before the winner of the Man Booker Prize was announced, the OSA staff book club met for ice cream and a discussion about one of the shortlisted books. 

We Are All Completely Beside Ourselves is a very unusual novel. Before reading it, I knew there was a twist, but not what that twist was (I love that avid readers do not share plot spoilers with each other, and will strive to continue that here). 

The narrator is Rosemary, who commences her story at the midpoint. Having been a talkative child, she has learnt to start in the middle; but her story jumps back and forth so that it slowly reveals itself over time. As an adult, she confesses to being a lot more thoughtful and quiet than she was as a child, and that may be because she has not seen her brother or her sister for many years. Instead, she has carried the burden of her parent's loss (the details of said "loss" not being immediately explained), and has become an introverted young woman. 

Rosemary admits to being a biased and potentially unreliable narrator. She notes that,

 "An off-told story is like a photograph in a family album. Eventually it replaces the moment it was meant to capture."

As the novel progresses, it becomes clear that her childhood memories are not the same as her parent's maturer adult experiences. But the profound effect of her upbringing is clear in her adult life. 

Parts of this novel reminded me of William Fiennes, who writes autobiographical accounts with extracts of scientific information, about birds or epilepsy. Towards the end of We Are Completely Beside Ourselves, Karen Jay Fowler talks increasingly about animal rights; though in our book club, we felt there were a few too many inconsistencies between Rosemary's account of her experiences and her examples of cruelty to animals. 

One of our book club members managed to read the book twice, and said it revealed much more on a second reading. I enjoyed the experience of reading We Are Completely Beside Ourselves, but I am not sure if there were too many coincidences for my liking. 

Eleanor & Park

Eleanor & Park
Rainbow Rowell
London, Orion, 2012, 325p

Eleanor & Park has been in high demand amongst many of my students - of a similar vein as John Green's novels, it tells the tale of two misfits trying to go unnoticed, who can't help but notice each other. 

Park is a quiet, comic-book reading boy. He isn't bullied, but you couldn't say he is particularly popular. Eleanor is new, and on her first day, finds herself sat next to Park on the bus. They travel to and from school together every day in silence, until Park notices that Eleanor is reading his comics over his shoulder. They start to share some of the loves and hates, until they realise they love each other. 

It is clear why Rainbow Rowell has become incredibly popular - she appeals to that part of every one of us that feels uncomfortable in social situations. I would have loved this as a teenager, but experience has made me a cynic. 

Romeo and Juliet is referenced as the kids' English books, and the themes of that classic are reflected in Eleanor & Park. They quickly fall deeply for each other, and like first love, cannot imagine life without each other. Park's parents are mostly supportive, but Eleanor has a difficult home situation, with an aggressive and drunk stepfather. 

Unfortunately, just like I couldn't get around Romeo and Juliet killing themselves, I struggled to engage with the idea that Eleanor and Park's first loves would possibly be their last and only. 

Nevertheless, Eleanor & Park is an easy and engaging read, and it feels very contemporary, reflecting the current trend towards a reminiscent adoration of past popular culture (the story is set in 1986 so bands like The Smiths are prominent!). 

Trouble

Trouble
Non Pratt
London, Walker, 2014, 381p

Trouble has been celebrated as one of the best contemporary novels about teen pregnancy, but I felt like it was about so much more than that. With drama between friends, romance through school, and the moments of tragedy, you could almost forget that the book centred around a growing baby. 

Hannah is fifteen and pregnant. She has a bit of a reputation around school, and rumours immediately spread. She expects her best friend, Katie, to stand by her, but when Katie starts dating Rex, she becomes part of the most popular group in school and drops Hannah.

Aaron is new to the area, with a mysterious past and a determination to move on. Somehow, he ends up friends with Hannah, and soon finds himself offering to be her fake baby daddy. He's convinced there is more to her than the popular kids see, and his faith in her allows the development of a beautiful and strong friendship. 

The novel plays out over the course of Hannah's pregnancy, with elements of the truth being revealed as the story unfolds. For the first half of the book, you can only speculate about who the father is, allowing your mind to play through every scenario, even the worst cases. Meanwhile, although it is clear Aaron is haunted by his past, you can only guess at what happened to bring him into Hannah's life. 

Their friendship is all about compromise, which is what the best real life friendships are about. Hannah and Aaron are similar in many ways, but also incredibly different, and in situations where all she wants to do is talk, he sometimes finds himself bottling up. But their trust is inspiring, and, with the support of family and other friends, they make it through the trials of the pregnancy. 

Trouble is about so many of the challenges facing young people today - peer pressure, sexuality, bullying (especially cyber bullying), conflict with parents, the expectations of school and society - that the pregnancy plot almost a subplot. But that is what I liked about this book - that it was about so much more than what you see on the cover. 

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!

This Song Will Save Your Life

This Song Will Save Your Life
Leila Sales
London, Macmillan, 2013, 288p

I was unexpectedly impressed and wowed by this novel. Having struggled to concentrate on reading recently, I did not think a book about a teen misfit in high school would be what got me back on track. 

Having spent all summer trying to learn how to be cool, Elise is disappointed when her first day back at school goes terribly wrong. She has the right clothes, knows what to say about music, and is sure this will be the year she makes friends, but after just one day back she is ready to take her own life. 

The second chapter of this book will haunt me for some time, and I remain unsure how I feel about it. Elise resorts to self-harming, as her social rejection becomes increasingly difficult to ignore. Today, I spent this morning chatting with my school counselor, and have given her the book to read - I want to share this book with my students, but feel under prepared about how to talk to young readers about it, as the scene was unbelievably heartbreaking and yet shockingly common. 

And I am undecided on how I feel about the outcome and resolution of Elise's depression. Jenna Sales skips through the six months following Elise's suicide attempt, briefly noting that her parents had started to keep a closer eye on her. When the story picks up, Elise is still unhappy at school, though she has two girls to sit with at lunch time (both also rather socially awkward, they are wannabees, and follow the popular crowd, longing to be part of it). 

At night, Elise walks through the streets, taking advantage of the time to herself. One night, she stumbles upon an underground club, and though only fifteen, is admitted to a world she never knew existed - where the clothes hark back to better times and the room is filled with old rock classics. Her passion for music leads her to being noticed, and the DJ takes her under his wing to show her the ropes. 

The challenge with writing a book about depression is that a novel always has a beginning, a middle, and an end. But depression doesn't always have an end. And young girls and boys don't always stumble upon their dream social scene in a warehouse in the early hours of the morning. Perhaps it is okay just to know that books like this get the conversation started, and help us acknowledge the existence of depression. 

Take Your Last Breath

Ruby Redfort: Take Your Last Breathe
Lauren Child
London, HarperCollins, 2012, 415p

My love for Ruby Redfort has already been loudly declared. I moved quickly from the first book in the series to the second, just as Ruby moved from her first adventure to the next. 

The danger is established early in the novel, as Ruby is subject to diving training and educated extensively about all the risks of being at sea. But Ruby doesn't see much to be afraid of, until strange things start happening - people disappearing, claims of noises luring people into the deep. And when a Spectrum agent succumbs to the deep, it quickly becomes a priority for all recruits. 

In Take Your Last Breath, the danger is once again very close to home, as Ruby's parents are caught up in drama at sea. As a meteor passes by the earth, tides start to settle, and things that have been left in the deep suddenly rise to the surface. An ancient family heirloom, surrounded in

There is layer upon layer of mystery in this novel, as Ruby uncovers increasingly more powerful sources of evil. But she is not alone - Hitch, her butler / secret agent, is always watching her back, and her best friend, Clancy, is as smart and quick as she is. 

(Talking of which, I am a little disappointed that Clancy's talent has not yet been recognised by Spectrum. They should recruit him, too.)


It's been a mad week, but I have been glad to have had Twinford to escape to, and the next book is already sat on my shelf awaiting my attention. 

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing
Eimear McBride
Norwich, Galley Beggar Press, 2013, 203p

So this turned out to be a slightly unconventional choice of reading for my holiday in Italy...

A Girl is a Half-Formed Thing tells the story of a young woman's developing maturity and sexuality, alongside the tragedy of her brother's haunting brain tumour and her mother's staunch Catholicism. The novel is written like an extended poem, with unusual sentence breaks and unexpected points of emphasis. Both it's content and form make for very difficult reading, but it is fascinating. 

The two predominant themes of this novel are presented with frank honesty. The protagonist is abused by her uncle aged thirteen, and the consequences stay with her well into adulthood. The fact that her mother's religion is so loud alongside this makes it all the more difficult for her to move on. The style, with it's disregard for any of the formal rules of grammar and syntax, reflects her demise into mental instability. 

This is Eimear McBride's debut novel, and won the Women's Prize for Fiction 2014. I have not read the full short list, but it is clear why McBride's book stood out - her style is incomparable to anything I have read before, and the story of her young protagonist is powerful and political. A few days after finishing this read, I am still distracted with thoughts and questions about it. 

Model Misfit

Geek Girl: Model Misfit
Holly Smale
London, HarperCollins, 2013, 387p

I have only just read this second book in the Geek Girl series and already I cannot wait to get my hands on the third!

However much Harriet tries to convince herself that her modelling career has changed her, she continues to be the socially awkward, highly unfashionable, unnecessarily intelligent girls she always was. She has just finished her exams, and has created an extensive and detailed Summer of Fun Flow Chart for herself and her best friend, Nat. So when Nat announces she is being shipped off to France for summer school, Harriet is devastated that her plans are crumbling around her ears, especially as she has been dumped by Nick a.k.a Lion Boy. 

 Luckily, the glorious Wilbur chooses this moment to call and announce that Harriet is needed in Tokyo for a new campaign. Unluckily, Harriet's parents refuse to let her go alone, and ship in her zany grandmother to escort her across the world. But in Tokyo, nothing seems quite as easy as it should be; and when Lion Boy turns up, things just go from bad to worse.

Although this book is a bulky 400 pages, it felt like a breeze to read, with short chapters and a fast paced narrative. I found myself wondering if Holly Smale has been to Japan, and what she truly thought of it, because she completely sold it to me, and now I want to go!

Harriet is a ridiculously entertaining protagonist, with her ability to come up with a random snippet of information for any awkward occasion. Where does Holly Smale get her facts from? I felt inclined to check some of them, but Harriet is so convincing that I was happy to just believe everything I read. 

I like that Harriet doesn't change throughout her transformation into a model - partly because she herself seems unsure that she is even good enough to pull this off. But also because she has a brilliant supporting cast, with her excitable father and grounded stepmother, and her ever loyal stalker, Toby. In Model Misfit, Harriet is plagued by self-doubt - she is in a strange city, unable to contact her best friend, and haunted by the loss of the boy she loves. Like most teenage girls in this situation, she wants to just hide under a pillow and cry (and she often does), but as the reader roots for her, Harriet puts on a brave face and ultimately steals the show. 

The Land of Decoration

The Land of Decoration
Grace McCleen
London, Vintage, 2012, 291p

I intend for this summer to be the summer I read all those books that have been sat on the shelf behind my desk waiting to be read. This last weekend I have spent in Somerset with First Story, and although I didn't get much time to read (because I was doing other awesome things), I did find the time to indulge in The Land of Decoration. 

Judith is a Jehovah's Witness. Like her father, she believes the end of the world is imminent, and soon she will be reunited with her lost mother. Within the confines of her room, she dreams of this new and beautiful land, playing with the world she has created out of cardboard and string. But when one of her playtime dreams comes true, Judith learns that such power comes with terrible responsibility. 

You cannot help but sympathise with Judith. Her father still mourns the loss of her mother; her classmates pick on her and exclude her; and society calls names at her for her beliefs. She finds refuge in her religion, talking to the voice of God; and her experiences prove there are good people in the world - her teacher, for example, is a diamond in an otherwise tragic story. 

Although I found this novel took some time to develop, it turned into something of a psychological thriller. It reminded me of The Icarus Girl - in The Land of Decoration, Judith finds companionship with her Godlike voice, and slowly their conversations turn dark. 

I love the way this novel is written, drawing from a Biblical style that parallels Judith's imaginary world creation. I am not sure what Grace McCleen is trying to say about religion in this novel, and I am hesitant to speculate, but what I found fascinatingly thought-provoking was the sway between Judith's psychological distress and her ability to find peace in her faith in God. 

But what was most poignant was the relationship between Judith and her father, a man who stands weak beneath the loss of his wife, the pressures of his faith and his distance with the society around him. You never doubt he loves his daughter, but you spend the whole novel wishing he could fully share his love and his life with her.

The Invention of Wings

The Invention of Wings

Sue Monk Kidd

Tinder, 2014, 410p

I received this book some months ago as a free proof via Twitter from the wonderful people at Tinder publishing. I love Sue Monk Kidd, having read The Secret Life of Bees in my teens whilst studying the slave trade - it added a personal, emotional element to my understanding of the suffering and desperation of those who were victims of slavery.

The Invention of Wings is a story told by Sarah Grimke, the daughter of an aristocratic landowner, and Hetty Handful, a slave of the Grimke household. When Hetty is given to Sarah as a present, Sarah tries to give her back, uncomfortable with the idea of owning another person. She is a forward thinking and ambitious young girl, determined to follow her father into the legal profession. But her parents refuse to accept her liberal ways, and bestow Hetty upon Sarah anyway. Sarah tries to be kind to Hetty, but sometimes finds slavery too ingrained in her way of life.

Hetty, meanwhile, tells us the story of her mother and her grandmother - how their talents as seamstresses have helped them become house slaves, rather than those who work the fields. Yet, Hetty's mother has a streak of danger running through her blood, and her attempts to defy their masters and liberate themselves from slavery end in the harshest of punishments.

As the two girls grow older, their paths diverge, but their stories remain intertwined. Sarah becomes an advocate for the abolition cause, talking at meetings and writing pamphlets with her sister, Nina, eventually stumbling upon the suffragette cause when their public speaking becomes suppressed by their gender. And Hetty continues to work for the Grimke family, but continues to dream of freedom.

In her closing note, Sue Monk Kidd informs her reader that the story is based on a true story - that of Sarah and Angelina Grimke, sisters who fought for abolition and suffrage, tending against their Southern upbringing. Much poetic license has been used, including Hetty's life, adding an element of contrast to the story of the wealthy white woman. The author brings in much historical information, adding volume and texture to her account of life in nineteenth century America.

And the writing is simply beautiful - within the first few pages you have been transported back two hundred years, and you can see every detail, every stitch that Hetty sews. One line that particularly stood out for me was towards the end of the book, where Hetty describes her aged mistress: "She has lines around her eyes like dart seams and silver thread in her hair, but she was the same."

Their stories are of hardship and tragedy, but their hope is uplifting. Sue Monk Kidd notes that the records show that Sarah was more reluctant about some of her actions than this novel suggests, but in a time when it must have felt like the whole world was against them, I consider Sarah's bravery and Hetty's determination to be inspiring.

Clarice Bean, Utterly Me

Clarice Bean, Utterly Me
Lauren Child
London, Orchard Books, 2012, 188p

What's not to love about Clarice Bean? She's cheeky, clever and confident. Admittedly, she has been around for quite a while now, but I have failed thus far to jump on the bandwagon, so thought I would indulge in something I knew I would love.

Clarice Bean is an avid reader of the Ruby Redfort books (which Lauren Child has since published as another series). When their teacher sets them a project to make a book exhibit, Clarice Bean and her friend, Betty Moody, decide they can demonstrate what they have learned from the great child spy. And when Betty Moody mysteriously disappears without a trace, Clarice Bean is able to put her spy skills into action in an attempt to find out what has happened to Betty and the Moodys.

Lauren Child's novels are artistic masterpieces. Each page is meticulously planned and executed, filled with illustrations and text swirling around the page. Sometimes you have to spin the book around just to read a sentence. 

There is some great junior fiction available these days (despite the plethora of books about fairies and puppies), and this republished issue of Clarice Bean demonstrates the popularity of the genre. But what I love most of all is that this book made me really want to read more Ruby Redfort!