The Icarus Girl
Helen Oyeyemi
London, Bloomsbury, 2005, 322p
This novel is much darker than I had anticipated. It is a modern psychological thriller, dealing with the concept of identity through an eight year old girl. It is clever and confusing, making the reader doubt at every turn; and I adored it.
The Icarus Girl is about Jessamy Harrison, half-British, half-Nigerian, who is quiet and thoughtful; she reads a lot and has a wild imagination. Her parents take her to Nigeria, to meet her family there, where she befriends someone who seems to understand her - TillyTilly. But as their friendship solidifies, TillyTilly reveals a darker side to herself, as strange incidents occur and secrets are revealed.
For much of the novel, it is unclear who TillyTilly really is - you suspect she is a figment of Jess' imagination, but cannot be sure, as the novel is predominantly narrated from her point of view, and you cannot distance yourself from Jess' reality. As the darkness within TillyTilly is revealed, Jess starts to push away from her, but finds she cannot - they are bound together by secrets and emotions.
Oyeyemi explores the complexity of growing up mixed race. Jess cannot work out where she belongs or who she is, resulting in the creation of her imaginary friend. The story develops from the focus about race into a doppelganger novel, as we learn that Jess had a twin who died in birth. As such, the novel became too complex - I found myself confused and full of questions - wishing Oyeyemi has focused on just one of these aspects.
And yet, I read this book fervently. It was fairly predictable in terms of the psychological thriller genre, but very well written, with the language of Gothic horror releasing the ghostly TillyTilly into my nightmares. Oyeyemi was only 17 when she wrote The Icarus Girl, and I cannot wait to see what else she will produce.
Completely unconnected to this whole review is a lovely quote that I just wanted to include here:
"Two hungry people should never make friends. If they do, they eat each
other up. It is the same with one person who is hungry and another who
is full: they cannot be real, real friends because the hungry one will
eat the full one. [...] Only two people who are full up can be friends. They don't want anything from each other except friendship."
The Firework Maker's Daughter
Philip Pullman
London, Corgo, 1995, 101p
This story is a delightful little short read, set in far away China. It feels like a folk tale, full of goddesses and demons, magic and morality. The illustrations by Nick Harris frame the story, with pictures of the characters and events (though surprisingly few pictures of fireworks).
Lila is The Firework Maker's Daughter - she must climb Mount Merapi and face the Fire-Fiend in order to complete her training. It is a dangerous mission, and Lila is not fully prepared, so her friends must come to her aid.
Again, Pullman uses the trope of the child hero. Lila's journey is a dangerous one, but she is a brave and determined girl. Like Lyra, her innocence is a blessing, as she is unaware of the potential risks her journey entails. The friends who help her are a White Elephant, Hamlet, and his young carer, Chulak. Hamlet is owned by the King, and Lila's father helps them escape in order to help Lila. They are a unconventional team, but I would definitely want them to help me.
Whereas many of Pullman's teenage novels are complex and heavy, this is a lovely short read that could be shared and enjoyed by all the family. It has more recently been adapted for the stage, and I imagine it is a delight to see, with fireworks and demons and a giant elephant - the sort of story that translates brilliant into a visual extravaganza.
Granny was a Buffer Girl
Berlie Doherty
London, Catnip, 2007, 168p
Reading Berlie Doherty is like going on a trip down memory lane. Whilst my sister was reading Jacqueline Wilson, I was reading Doherty. I read every copy that they had in the library - books full of beautiful characters, loving families and whirlwind romances. They were realistic, I could relate to them, unlike a lot of the strange fantasies or melodramas that were available to teenagers. And now, again, Berlie Doherty remains one of my favourites.
Granny was a Buffer Girl is a tale in which three generations of the same family share their best stories around the dinner table. It is the night before Jess' departure to France for a study year abroad, and with her brother, parents and grandparents, tales of love, loss and life are shared.
The stories told are beautifully written. They are not intended to shock, but are the kind of stories your own families might have to tell. They start with the story of how Grandpa Jack met Birdie, a romance that was forbidden due to religious differences. Then, the story of how Jess' parents met, and the short life of their disabled son, Danny. The stories make you laugh and cry, written with such poetic language and emotional investment.
First published in 1986, this book feels timeless. Perhaps it is because the stories are themselves historical, dating back to the childhoods of Jess' grandparents during the 1930s; but I think it's because these stories are universal - sitting around the dinner table, sharing, loving: these are things we have all experienced.
Set in Sheffield, the story has a special meaning for me, reminding me of the beautiful city and vast landscape in which I lived for just one short year. The city plays an important role in Doherty's novel, offering a backdrop of social change through the last century, with mines closing and the city being built up.
The stories are so real and compelling that you hope that, in some way, they might be true. Perhaps Doherty drew inspiration from her family, from their stories. These kind, loving people are just the sort you want to meet. As a child, they touched my life, shaped my outlook on the world, and reinforced what family means to me.
Meeting the English
Kate Clanchy
London, Picador, 2013, 310p
It is such an honour to work alongside and be friends with Kate Clanchy. She is an inspiration to the students she mentors, and she helps them produce the most incredibly poetry and prose. I have never met anyone who works so hard, so I was astounded when she informed me she had found time to write a novel. And not just any novel, but one full of dark humour, monstrous characters, and beautiful narrative.
Meeting the English is the story of Struan Robertson, a young Scot who moves down to London to be the carer of Philip Prys: a playwright way past his best before date who is paralysed following a stroke. Struan is an alien in London, during the hot summer of 1989. He finds himself living with a strange family full of secrets and resentment, who bumble through their lives thinking only of themselves, with hardly a care for the now silent playwright.
Kate has incredible skill in creating every one of these characters. She is right inside the mind of each of them, narrating from multiple perspectives. None of them are particularly likeable, although you grow to better understand and empathise with them, until you even want some of them to find a happy ending. The Prys family is comprised of so many selfish individuals that you wonder how they have survived this long. But the introduction of Struan to the house gives them some perspective, unsettling the family just enough to make them reflect on themselves.
My favourite thing about this novel is its setting. In London, in the long, hot summer of 1989, Kate creates a world of confusion and upheaval, both within the Prys household, and in the wider world. She refers to contemporary culture, international relations, and that blistering heat. 1989 almost becomes a character itself, quintessential to the plot. It is subtle, in contrast to novels set in Victorian England, for example, in which the author's research into the era is constantly thrown in the readers' face. Kate knows this summer and remembers this world; she does not need to show off about it.
I have read way too much teenage fiction recently: it has made my mind a bit mushy. At first, it felt strange to read something with such complex language, adult themes, and mature pace. But Kate's intelligence seeps through every page - I could hear her voice as I read it - and her creativity has produced this dark, witty story full of self-destructive characters. The language is beautiful, engaging all your senses with vivid descriptions. It is very refreshing to read something so modest and yet so sagacious.
The Subtle Knife
Philip Pullman
London, Scholastic, 2005, 325p
I love the introduction of Will Parry to Lyra's life. As the great, brave heroine, I did not think it possible to create a character who could equal her inner beauty and outer courage, but Will matches her on all counts, and provides just the sort of support and friendship to move her journey onwards.
The Subtle Knife is the second of the His Dark Material series, following on from Northern Lights. We begin in our world, in Winchester, where we meet Will. He is running away from men who want to hurt him, when he stumbles across a window into another world. He steps into a hot, deserted city, where he meets Lyra. Although they have never met, their lives are intertwined, and their destiny binds them together.
I enjoyed exploring our Oxford through Will's eyes, especially in contrast to Lyra's Oxford. I can picture the streets and buildings as he describes them. It is particularly wonderful when Will brings Lyra into our world, and she compares our Oxford to the one she knows. Her shock and unease is paralleled by her awe. Pullman picks out tiny details, like double yellow lines and traffic lights, that seem so normal to use, and makes them seem unusual through Lyra's eyes. When Lyra stumbles across the Pitt Rivers Museum (my favourite place in the city), her delight and confusion remind me of how I felt when I first discovered it.
Pullman's use of children as the protagonists is brilliant. Not only does it mean that the danger seems to be heightened, as they are surrounded by adults who wish to bring them harm, but their innocent curiosity helps lead the book on it's journey. Will has the same naive bravery that leads Lyra into trouble in Northern Lights; so when Will finds the window into another world, it is inevitable that he will step through.
This is a beautifully written book, full of increasingly complex concepts, especially relating to religion. Again, the line between good and evil is blurred, so you can never be sure of the characters' motivations. The plot builds up towards a great battle against Authority, a God-like figure. As an adult, some of the ideas in this novel are difficult for me to comprehend - can this novel really be categorised as young adult fiction?
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...
The Kick Off
Dan Freedman
London, Scholastic, 2007, 172p
It is not often that I enjoy books about sport. Often, the jargon makes me loose interest, and I struggle to relate to the characters. But with Dan Freedman's series, football is made interesting.
The Kick Off is about Jamie Johnson's dream to be part of the first team at school. Unfortunately, he has a terrible time at the end of term trials, so commits himself to spending the whole summer improving his skills.
What is particularly nice about this series is the fact that the football plot is not the only thing going on in Jamie's life. He is struggling to focus at school, and with slipping grades, his mum stops him from spending all his time at the park practicing football. Also, he has managed to offend his best friend, and cannot work out how to make amends. Jamie is like any teenage boy - he has a big heart, but sometimes forgets how to use it.
Freedman makes Jamie's ambitions into something that anyone can relate to - he could have just as easily written about a boy who wanted to be an astronaut or a girl who wanted to be the Prime Minister. Football jargon is avoided, so the matches come to life through a more simple use of language. Jamie's ambition is endearing and consuming. Of course, these books are aimed to engage those more reluctant boy readers, but the themes are universal, so could be attractive to many young readers.
