Gifted by Juxtabook

Welcome to Gifted by Juxtabook

Welcome! Having begun a reading group with some very bright 9-11 year olds I have realised how this group brings special challenges. Often by increasing the langauage difficulty you increase the chances of the child reading something someone considers unsuitable. I have realised how little there is in reviews that tells you what you really need to know as a teacher, parent, librarian or book group leader: not only is it any good but is the content suitable. This blog is not aimed at children, but at the adults who might buy or pass on the books to what educationalists currently call the 'gifted and talented'.

I don't intend to write full blown reviews but to flag up books that I think are entertaining and well written with, and this the important bit, notes on watch points. I'll be noting levels of violence, how relationships are handled, how death is handled, and how religion is handled.

The lastest post will be below this welcome. You can see a list of the most recent few posts in the column on the right, or you can browse the Authors A-Z page.

You as a teacher, parent or guardian, can then make a judgment as to whether it might be suitable for your child/children but of course the only real test is to read it yourself first! I make no guarantees that my judgements are the same as yours, obviously, and these notes are meant as starting guide for you only. Having said that all feedback is of course welcome.

A note on spoilers: in order to assess the watch points of each book I may need to include spoilers. I will try and do this as little as possible, but you have been warned!

Thank you for visiting and I hope you enjoy the site!

 

Tiger, Tiger by Lynne Reid Banks

We begin this tale set in an approximation of 3rd century AD Rome with the capture of two tiger cubs in India. The loss of their mother, and their experiences in the hold of a ship, are handled with appropriate distance: the tigers of course have no idea what is going on. Even younger readers however may well know already that this capture means the Colosseum and the ruthless circuses where gladiators, Christians, slaves, rebels and wild animals all go to fight and die.

We then meet the spirited princess Aurelia to whom one of the tiger cubs is destined. Together with the handsome slave Julius she works hard and the tiger, Boots, is tamed with clever handling and kindness. Boots' brother Brute is meanwhile tormented into aggression ready for the arena. The royal household is, like Rome, in Ceasar's thrall and as petty jealousies run through Aurelia's circle a trick is played that means Aurelia, Julius and the tigers must all learn to stand their ground.

For me the success of this book is the characterisation. Aurelia is simply a character that you want to spend time with, and who wins your sympathy in a world where, 'the only way we women can get through our lives honourably is with courage and resignation, both.' Aureila has courage in buckets, but has to learn resignation. The tigers are also beautifully portrayed, fearsome beasts who are not over-anthropomorphised.

After a slow start the plot becomes quite dramatic in the middle and later sections and, even as an adult, I couldn't quite see how Lynne Reid Banks was going to pull of an ending both believable and not too heart-breaking. The clever plotting  of this latter section is very neatly done.

Overall a good yarn with a strong female lead and great historical atmosphere. Much of the language is fairly simple but the odd challenging word (I had to look one up!), the historical setting and the complexity of the treatment of the themes of family, power, animals, belief, psychology, etc., all just about lift this into a more challenging read perhaps up to 12 year olds. After which it is an enjoyable read, no more.

Watch points:

Peril: from the start someone is in danger whether tiger or human. This builds into great focus with the gladiator fights, from which the reader is slightly removed as we don't even know their names, and then up to real terror for Aurelia and Julius by the end.

Death: again, there is lots of death. The tigers' mother is the first death which, whilst nothing compared to what happens later, may still upset more sensitive readers. The circus scenes are well handled: lots of death, both cruel and graphic, but viewed through the prism of the brave but sensitive Aurelia the reader learns that life is not fair but must still be faced. There is no glorifying of death in the arena: watching women faint and Aurelia's friend is physically sick.

Religion: Aurelia worships the Roman gods but starts to empathise with the Christians in the arena with their brave resignation. She questions the beliefs she has grown-up with and at one point smashes her Roman shrine and tries to make an offering to the Christian god, (all mixed up with her original beliefs in a very believable way) which is in part answered.

Relationships: Aurelia falls for the handsome slave and he for her, but their positions keep them apart. Aurelia at one point tells her mother she should 'withhold' herself from Caesar to influence his opinion. Roman children marry at 13.

Politics: there are lots of undercurrents about power and the nature of a good ruler. What is strength, what is mercy, and how to rule in front of a mob, or indeed a crouching tiger are all covered.

Anything else: the treatment of of the tigers, even the pet one, is as unpleasant as you would expected of the era. There are slaves whose treatment is likewise casually cruel.

Other reviews and useful sites:

The author's website page for Tiger, Tiger.

Kirkus review (which is much less positive than mine).

Middle Grade Ninja review.

They don't make them like this anymore ...

For the last four or five years I've helped been teaching a group of 'gifted and talented' children at a primary school. These year 6 and 7 children are amazingly talented readers and as a former secondary school teacher I go in once a week to deliver literature enrichment lessons.

One of the pleasures of this kind of teaching is that every week these children knock me off my complacent perch as they reveal exactly what they can do with a piece of poetry or prose; they are a continual surprise and delight.

One of the depressing things about this kind of teaching is the poor quality of modern children's non-fiction: all super-glossy, illustration rich, and full of snippets of facts in little boxes. High on graphic design and low on continuous prose. It always reminds me of Irwin's "gobbets" that Hector was so sniffy about in Alan Bennett's The History Boys.

When I start teaching this group each year I remind them of the Ladybird non-fiction books. They will have seen them, and some may have one or two passed down by their parents, but they associate them with younger readers and think they've moved on. I point out to them how little they as 9, 10 and 11 year olds see non-fiction just written in paragraphs and extending to 26 pages (all Ladybird books have 52 pages and half are full page illustrations). I commend the Adventures from History series to them.

Not only does the Adventures from History series cover the popular heroes you would expect (Alfred the Great, Robert the Bruce, Florence Nightingale, Elizabeth I, etc) but amongst the 49 titles are some real surprises. What modern publisher would bring out a children's biography of Warwick the Kingmaker, John Wesley or Elizabeth Fry? There is even one of Elizabeth Gaskell.

 

 

I read these books with great pleasure in the 70s and 80s and they were a large motivating factor in my love of history. They have their faults certainly, and no doubt they are a bit over-certain or narrative in style for historians' tastes, but for getting kids interested you can't beat them. Most children don't get the chance to do this kind of reading however.

Another aspect of the teaching I do with this group is on the history of the English language. How English is such a borrower of words and how interesting etymology can be. They look at maps and gradually realise that one local area is full of Norse place names and another a few miles away of Anglo-Saxon ones. They realise that they can see the footprints of the invaders in an OS map. This is one of the most popular parts of the course that I teach. They love it and the National Curriculum hardly goes near it.

Most of you will know of the Ladybird series but if you are looking for children's non-fiction there are others. Ginn did a great little series in the 60s in colour coded shelves for different eras. I've a smashing little book from their 'Blue shelf' in stock at the moment on the history of Books and Writing (again, what publisher would produce this now?).

 

 

It covers the development of paper and writing: papyrus, book rolls, books with leaves, runes, Roman letters, Anglo-Saxon poetry (all riddles and heroes), and the writing culture of the monasteries and St Bede... all in a tiny staple bound little paperback.

 

 

I've a similarly interesting volume called Elizabethan Houses from Ginn's 'Yellow Shelf'. If you have a child or grandchild that likes the Horrible Histories then maybe see if you can interest them in these more detailed books. Apart from improving their history it will challenge their reading no end compared with what is in the school library on the non-fiction shelves.

 

Cross posted at Juxtabook.

The Borribles by Michael de Larrabeiti

The Borribles by Michael de Larrabeiti is a trilogy of books first published in the early 1980s: The Borribles, The Borribles go for Broke, and Across the Dark Metropolis. They are a superb read but are increasingly anarchic throughout the series. Proceed with caution, but remembering the potential for great rewards!

Borribles are children who, like Peter Pan , will never grow up. They usually come from a "bad start", run away, then they find their ears grow pointed and they are "borribled".

 

Borribles are generally skinny and have pointed ears which give them a slightly satanic appearance. They are pretty tough-looking and always scruffy, with their arses hanging out of their trousers. Apart from that they look just like normal children, although legions of them have been Borribles for more than a lifetime – as long as a Borrible remains at liberty he or she will never age.

Most of them have sharp faces with eyes that are burning-bright, noticing everything and missing nothing. They are proud of their quickness of wit. In fact it is impossible to be dull and a Borrible because a Borrible is bright by definition. Not that they know lots of useless facts; it’s just that their minds work well and they tend to dislike anyone who is a bit slow.

 

The Borrible children live in groups around London and the Borribles of different areas of the metropolis, which have slightly different characteristics, are fiercely loyal to their own. Borribles can only grow up if they are caught by the police and have their ears clipped by the police surgeon. They live by petty theft and in fear of the police and being clipped. Their greatest enemies are the Rumbles of Rumbledom Common, creatures described like "a giant rat, a huge mole or a deformed rabbit" with a "long snout". The Womble parady is complete with the names like Timbucktoo, Sydney, Bingo, Chalotte, etc.

The first volume is the easiest to recommend. In fear of invasion by The Rumbles a special group is formed and trained by chief lookout Knocker. Borribles love adventures and they are granted their names on completion and this is to be the biggest adventure of all. Eight new no-name Borribles are called up, one from each London district (Battersea, Neasden, etc) and each is give the name of a chief Rumble. Their task is break into the Rumble strong-hold and kill their assigned Rumble to deprive them of their leadership and break their power for a generation. The experienced Knocker is to go with them as "historian" but he has his own secret task given to him by one of the oldest Borribles, Spiff. Though the Borribles set off with murderous intent, their lives are under threat and the Rumbles themselves are not alive in the way we think. When killing the Rumbles the Borribles are relieved to find only straw inside the Rumbles (a metaphor for the ruling classes perhaps? There is a lot of class conflict going on in these books). The Rumbles' greatest fear is horses. Horses, those committed herbivores, eat Rumbles. In this it doesn't feel like real violence, as the Rumbles don't seem to be truly present, though the battles fought in this war feel pretty real.

Each book can be read as a story on its own but there is an over-arching plot,  and the books do benefit from being read in order.

The anarchic element gets more evident as the books progress. The last book was hindered in its publication because it involves violence against the police (not all police as such, but particularly the cartoon-like pair of idiots assigned to catch and clip the Borribles and their nameless constabulary back-up) and it was due out at the time of mid-80s riots in the UK.

There are some wonderful characters in this trilogy. The most prominent Borribles Knocker, Spiff, Napoleon, Sydney are all fascinating. The controversially named Adolf Wolfgang Amadeus is a brave and eccentric later addition to their group. The disastrously drunk tramp who helps them is a brilliant creation and the description of his abode in the dump is a wonderful piece of writing. By the final book, the impossible has happened: an adult who sympathises with them, who respects and shares their Borrible values, starts to become Borrible, pointed ears and all... The Borribles have never heard of such a thing but loyalty in this world is rewarded.

Plot and characterisation are excellent throughout the three books as is the lively written style. These are undoubted quality pieces of literature but many parents will like neither the plot nor occasional bad language. In their defence I would say that they may be anarchic but they're not nihilistic. The Borribles have strong values: they're just not necessarily always our values (though they have many unarguable qualities like bravery, kindness, empathy, loyalty and selflessness), but this makes it such a fascinating book to talk about with children. How do we form our values? Whose values are right? Can one value trump another?

I loved these highly original and intelligent books as a child and fell for them all over again re-reading them this year.

Watch Points:

Peril: lots of fear and excitiment as these are adventure stories. The peril is real but the Borribles, and their opponents the Rumbles are not, which places the peril at one remove from the child-reader. There are scary moment of capture including by a Fagin-like character who forces them to steal for him, and by the police in the later books. There are scenes of imprisoment in all the books, and  some of slave labour.

Death: in the first book it is mainly Rumbles but they do lose one of their number in the Great Rumble Hunt and others, it is implied at the last, on the way home. By the second book their situation has become more complex, the police are now their enemy and stakes are higher. The second and third books contain much more death, and main characters die within the narrative, not implictily or behind the scenes. At one point they fall in with some vicious tramps and the murder of an adult human takes place.

The Rumble deaths are quite dramatic - drowning in a vat of boiling soup, electrocuted in a bath, etc.

Relationships: no romantic relationships as they never grow up.

Politics: there are a lot of class warfare undercurrents. The violence against the police is part of this.

Anything Else: taboo or coarse language occurs intermittently (arse and twat in the first few pages for example). Several adult characters are alcoholics. The horse is treated cruelly by his first owners and is under threat of being sent for slaughter when held by the police.

Other reviews and useful sites:

Some interesting background on The Borribles by YA writer Cory Doctorow.

Tor Books have a page on archive covers for the series. Those 1980s Pan ones are the ones that I remember.

This link to a tweet should show a picture of an old review which you can just about read!

Michael de Larrabeiti's estate have a page marker here at the moment which should be where their website eventually appears. Try it and see!

There are reviews on The Guardian, Kirkus (the first book) and blog Jettison Cocoon (the first two books).

A Ravelled Flag by Julia Jones

A Ravelled Flag by Julia Jones, the second book in the Strong Winds Trilogy, is like the first volume, A Salt-Stained Book, a wonderful mixture of social realism and sailing novel. It's sort of Swallows and Amazons meets Tracy Beaker. I first came across the series on Geranium Cat's children's book blog Hurleyburlybuss and I'm very glad I decided to read it.

Teenager Donnie Walker's family is unusual: he lived with his grandmother and his disabled mother Skye until his grandmother's recent death. Skye is deaf and autistic and Donny communicates with her through sign language. A Ravelled Flag takes up the story after Donny and his mother have been reunited and are trying to persude Social Services that they should live on Strong Winds with his seafaring Great Aunt Ellen. Anna is still living with her half-sister and step-brothers in foster care at the vicarage, and searching more desperately for her mother.

With the characters and relationships well established in book one, we're into the thick of the action right away. This is an exciting book from start to finish. Donny is still fighting to keep his family together, battling a disturbing series of problems and coincidences, and Anna is still looking for her mother. The two plot threads merge closer together very imaginatively and invoke the code breakers of WWII, Chinese triads, Native American culture, internet trails, and puzzles set by deceased uncles.

I love the way that characters are allowed to evolve and appear with different layers. The Rev Wendy, like many well meaning and worn out adults, appears from the teens' point of view as alertnately infuriatingly picky and blinkered, and amazingly moral, steadfast and loyal. She makes me think of Hermione Granger grown-up.

I also love the imaginative range of characters: younger children surprise in becoming more rounded (Luke reminds me of Titty in Swallows and Amazons in this respect for example), Skye is very much differently-abled rather than disabled and is a wonderful three-dimensional portrayal of disability, as Great Aunt Ellen is of the very old. As Ellen says of Skye, she steers by a different star, and this is true of the book as a whole.

Overall this is pacy and original ultra-modern plot with a great relationship with the history of sailing literature. Like its predecessor it references Treasure Island and many works by Arthur Ransome throughout, as well as The Song of Hiawatha by Longfellow. The landscape and seascape is enchanting and the varied and extensive vocabulary used nicely challenging for our age group. The characters are engaging and their relationships are believable. I adored Great Aunt Ellen aka Gold Dragon! It's exciting, unusual and thoroughly entertaining throughout. I loved this volume even more than the last.

Watch Points:

Peril:

There are repeated moments of mysterty and fear and some mild violence. Donny is attacked and knocked out in a cupbaord where, when he comes to, he fears suffocation before being released. By the end of the book it is clear Anna's mother is being held as a slave, obviously potentially frightening as a concept for a sensitive child. Donny is under threat from the awful policeman 'Flint' and from Denise Tune from social services in that they orchestrate a bullying campaign, and there is the constant threat to get him taken away from his family. An abduction attempt is made on Great Aunt Ellen and Donny, and Ellen is knocked out by diesel fumes as Strong Winds is set free - but that is unusual. Great Aunt Ellen gives Donny and the reader confidence that all will eventually be well, an the Ribero family with the doctor father, magistrate mother and enterprising sisters Xanthe and Maggi provide a further reassuring pressence along with the Rev Wendy. I think that this is a very supportive environment in which to encounter, obliquely and sensitively, the tip of the iceberg of some of the horrors of the real world.

Death: Great Aunt Ellen suffers a bereavement of an old friend who turns out to be Anna's uncle and central to the plot.

Relationships: There are no romantic relationships amongst the teens but see note on the nature of the slavery below.

Anything Else: much of the thrust of the book is to do with people trafficking and modern slavery. Adult readers will know this involves prostitution but much of this would pass over more innocent readers' heads as it is handled sensitively. Anna spends a lot of time on the internet looking for her mother and the teenagers discuss internet safety issues like grooming (though not explicity what the grooming is for). Mr Mac gets into trouble for supporting Donny at a case conference and the teenagers discuss the fact that Mr Mac is suspended and being deliberately falsely accused and issues like inappropriate realtionships with a teenage girl are discussed, but again not explicitly. However Anna says after one meeting (where they try to bully her into accusing Mr Mac) that she was surprised they didn't show her a male doll and ask her to 'name the sex parts'.

Donny carries a knife at school - though with no violent intent, it is just his sailor's knife. Anna goes to meet someone she has met on the internet but she tells her friends and has several people with her. The risks are discussed at length and she is trying to find her lost mother, not pursuing a romance. These issues might require talking through.

When they realise Anna's mother is being held as a slave the specifics of this aren't gone into in too much detail; most children from the younger end of our age group would focus on the fact that many of the slaves work as cleaners. The local red light district is described simply as one that would 'disgrace the diocese', though the word hooker is later used.

Skye, Donny's mother, is tricked into drinking vodka and becomes an alcoholic. Donny and his friends have to support Skye as she comes off the drink and prescription tablets. The portrayal of this is carefully and sensitively realistic.

Other reviews and useful sites:

The author's website is here

Reviews on Eventide Owners Association, with The Salt-Stained Book at The Nancy Blackett Trust.

The third volume of the trilogy is Ghosting Home.

Since I reviewed The Salt-Stained Book a fourth volume in the series, the stand-alone The Lion of Sole Bay has been published. You can buy all four books from me directly.

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher

My Sister Lives on the Mantelpiece by Annabel Pitcher deals with the aftermath of a terrorist attack. When Rose is blown up in Trafalgar Square during a terrorist bomb blast the rest of her family survive physically but, emotionally, the blast blows then apart too.

Told from the point of view of ten year old Jamie, we meet the family 71 days after Mum has left them for a man from the bereavement support group. Dad is falling apart drinking, sleeping and failing to participate in family life. His sister Jas, Rosie's twin, is struggling to find her own identity out of the shadow of her murdered other half. These are serious topics, in an engrossing storyline, and Pitcher handles them beautifully.

The family, minus mum, move to the Lake District as Jamie's father wants to get away from the immigrants he blames for the (presumed Islamist) bomb. Jamie struggles with no proper parenting except from Jas, he struggles to fit in at his school, and he misses his mother. Meanwhile his sister's ashes are on the mantelpiece, unscattered, a sign his father just can't let go.

I found this an extremely readable book, with excellent characterisation and lots of flashes of humour in and amongst the tragedy. The extremely difficult subject matter is handled with real sensitivity, and should be okay, with caution and a bit of adult support, for most children in our age group.

In handling the drinking, the divorce, the teenage Jas's romance and rebellion, the grief, and the terrorist attack, Pitcher shows a remarkable ability to talk straight, and not down, to her young audience. At odds with this is the friendship between a muslim girl and Jamie at his new school. Pitcher is trying to show hope for the future in the positive relationship, but somehow she suddenly sounds like a teacher. Sunya is a great character, she truly sparkles, and deserves her own story, not to be tagged onto Jamie's for diversity training. Pitcher's heart is in the right place with this aspect of the plot but it doesn't work.  In the end the narrative gets a bit worthy, and disbelief is suspended.

All that said, there is much for discussion in the book with your gifted reader both in literary and social terms. It is well written, engaging, and a range of social problems and differences are handled with understanding and empathy, not just of the characters and events, but also of the young readers who will engage with it. Highly recommended but do read it first!

Watch points:

Death: a child is killed, blown apart, by a terrorist bomb, only parts of the body are found and the warring parents split them. The father's half of the child's ashes remain on the mantelpiece and are a key part of the book. There are descriptions of ashes scattered (and failing to scatter). A cat also dies.

Peril: in the past is the bomb which happened on an ordinary shopping trip. There is also bullying in the present.

Relationships: we see something of Jas's relationship with her boyfriend. There is some slight scrutiny of the parents' relationship and the disintegrating marriage, though this is largely from Jamie's point of view.

Racism: Jamie's Dad has become very racist as a result of the bombing. There are a lot of things said and shouted which, whilst realistic, may need discussion.

Anything else? This is a socially complex book that deals with many problems, including grief, divorce, drunkenness, alcoholism, and abandonment by parents. Jas's story within the book is an interesting one of sibling identity as well as body piercing, eating problems, and teenage rebellion. There is also an interesting running thread on the subject of hair covering for muslim women.

Other reviews and useful websites:

Some editions have the short story 'Jasmine' appended, and this is well worth having. ISBN 9781780620299.

Video trailer for the novel can be viewed here.

Annabel Pitcher's website is here and she is on twitter here.

There are two reviews on The Guardian, one by author Philip Ardagh here and one by a 14 year old critic here.

There is also an excellent review, particularly focusing on the grief of children, by Lynne Hatwell on her Dovegreyreader blog, with an extract from the audio book read by David Tennant.

The Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchan

The Thirty Nine Steps by John Buchan  today reads rather more like a children's book than the adults' yarn it was intended to be. Like James Bond's adventures the escapades of Richard Hannay now seem like cliche. But unlike we world-weary adults, younger readers will come to The Thirty Nine Steps fresh and untainted by the myriad versions of Hannay we've seen on TV, film and stage (or even in the pub!).

In attempting to read with fresh eyes I found myself enjoying the book despite myself. For those few people unfamiliar with the book: just before the First World War a bored Richard Hannay, ex-mining engineer fresh from working in the colonies, kicks about London. On returning to his flat he finds a man called Scudder hiding with a strange tale to tell. The man's eventual murder in Hannay's flat and Hannay's subsequently becoming wanted by the police for this crime, leads him on an adventure through the Scottish moors whilst he tries to outrun and outwit not just the law but also the sinister characters who murdered Scudder, before the story's final resolution on  the East coast of England.

There is little to it other than the plot and as such it will not stretch young adults with any brilliant description or characterisation. It does however introduce readers to Edwardian language and gives them the kick that comes from thinking you're reading a book intended for grown-ups. There's plenty to discuss in the creation of atmosphere and suspense, in the language of the period, in ideas of class and Empire, in the development of the spy thriller, and the way in which an effective page-turner is constructed.

Like Bond, the plot is driven forward by vague political intrigues, here involving the balance of power in Europe and assassinations of key political figures (all very 'origins of the First World War'). This is not very easy to understand as child, but like the Bond plots, does it really matter? The excellent and exciting chase is the thing.

Watch points:

Death: Scudder's murder involves him being impaled to to the floor with a large knife. This happens off stage so-to-speak and the body is discovered after the event. Hannay, once he is a suspect, is of course in danger of being hanged if caught by the police; a fact to which he makes reference at least twice.

Peril: lots! But it is, I think, more exciting than scary. As with most first person narratives of this kind you never doubt that he's going to get away with it all somehow. The pleasure is watching how. He is chased, he gets tired, dirty and hungry and one occasion blows himself up, but he rarely is downhearted which makes it all seem less real. In a true Boys' Own story style of a colonial Hannay wants action and danger, he wants to be chased, he lives for it, and so there is little fear.

Anything else? The prejudices of the period include much in the way of national stereotypes (especially on the subjects of Jews and Germans), of class stereotypes, and of somewhat imperialistic language. However it could be much worse. There is one use of the word Dago, and several lengthy passages talking of the power and influence of the Jew as perceived at the time, and a range of generalisations about Germans and others but, provided I gave a brief explanation about the perceptions of the time, I wouldn't let the prejudices of the narrative stop me giving it to most bright children assuming some emotional maturity goes alone with their brains.

The only other thing to be aware of is that this is a world populated entirely by men! There is a housemaid at one point who renders Hannay peculiarly tongue tied by opening the door proving the house to be middle-class (the upper-classes had butlers) a group with whom Hannay says he has no common ground. Her appearance is brief but in representing the middle-class via her employers she appears to floor Hannay the way nothing else ever does. Very odd!

Other reviews and useful websites:

The text is available for free via Project Gutenberg in a variety of e-formats.

There are many articles about the places used in the novel. The scene of the denoument is for example covered by the magazine Bygone Kent.

There is a John Buchan Society.

There is a fairly recent review, by ex MI5 chief Stella Rimmington, of The Thirty Nine Steps in the wider context of Buchan's work in the Daily Telegraph from 2011.

There is a blog review by Robin Stevens from a postcolonial perspective here

There are abridged and adapted children's versions including by Usbourne here, but with gifted readers I would feel confident letting them loose on the real thing.

Also of interest is the current stage version based on Hitchock's film classic.

King of Shadows by Susan Cooper

King of Shadows is a clever, sensitive novel by Susan Cooper. It begins with an unhappy American boy, Nat Field, being selected to join a troupe of actors who are heading to London to perform A Midsummer Night's Dream at The Globe. Whilst in London Nat starts to feel unwell and goes to bed. When he wakes up he is a new boy drafted into a company of players in Elizabethan London. Playing Puck in the modern Globe is nothing to acting alongside William Shakespeare. Shakespeare and Nat find themselves drawn to each other through a common bereavement: Shakespeare has lost his son, and Nat his father. Will Nat get stuck in Elizabethan England or face the even scarier prospect of going back to his own time and losing Shakespeare with all he means to him?

Not only does Susan Cooper have to pull off a convincing time-slip novel with strong Elizabethan detail, she has to cross pens with the greatest writer of them all and make this challenging charaterisation come alive. For a little while I thought she wasn't going to manage it. The Elizabethan setting was managed well (and grittily), and the little in-fights amongst the cast convincing enough, but how was she going to make Shakespeare live? Little by little Cooper spins a stronger and stronger fabric for her narrative. By focusing on him as much as bereaved father as "Great Writer" Will Shakespeare gradually convinces.

By the end I thought this a moving example of older children's fiction that works on many levels: a competent fantasy, a well executed piece of historical narrative, and increasingly elegant characterisation. It is a wonderful background novel to understanding Elizabethan theatre, the process of writing and putting on a play, and what Elizabethan audiences are like. It is also a great study of loss and bereavement. However A Midsummer Night's Dream is so crucial to the scenes between the actors, and so reflective of themes in the wider narrative, that a good understanding of the play is, I think, required, especially for a child to whom the whole concept of Shakepeare and his world may be new.

If you know a child who has read, or seen the play, or has read and discussed a modern re-telling, then this is a superb support for Shakespearian teaching. It is a lovely, moving book, but may be more enjoyed by adults than children.

Watch Points:

Death: Nat's parents have both died. His father, it emerges near the end, has killed himself and Nat was the first to find the body, "...there was blood on the floor, bright red, a pool of red blood, spreading ..." Nat's pain and loss are very real, and very subtly built up as the story goes on. Like most people damaged by bereavement Nat is functioning. Cooper shows what it costs Nat to seem "normal". The second loss, of Shakespeare when Nat returns to his own time, is used to explore the mechanism of bereavement. It is all beautifully done, and may help a bereaved child at the right point.

Peril: minor, linked to problems of going back in time, and to not understanding your world. There are also some political threats to Shakespeare and the players over the politics of Elizabethan England. The whole company is fearful at times.

Anything else: Elizabethan England is of necessity rather earthy. Not much worse than an episode of Horrible Histories though. There is discussion of the use of pig's blood as a prop and how "the groundlings are happy so long as they see it gush..", that sort of thing. Plus rather colourful discussions of bear baiting (a deliberately blinded bear, and someone's dog is disemboweled), which affects Nat terribly because he can't bear the sight of the pool of blood after his father's death.

Other reviews and useful websites:

Susan Cooper's own website is here. There is a recent interview with her at The Guardian here.

There is a New York Times review here.

There are a range of blog reviews available: Scholar's Blog, A Hoyden's Look at Literature, Miss Erin, Jen Robinson's Book Page, etc.

At the time of writing Sue at Green Meadow Books has a lovely copy of the first edition here.

The Edge of the Cloud by K.M. Peyton

The Edge of the Cloud by K.M. Peyton is the second book in the Flambards series. Though regarded as a series of pony stories The Edge of the Cloud is markedly different to the other three volumes as it has only one riding scene in it. What it is in fact is a wonderful historical novel with a little romance and a lot of flying, set just prior to WWI.

The previous novel, Flambards, ended with cousins Will and Christina eloping after the hunt ball and The Edge of the Cloud begins immediately, the same night, as they arrive in London at their aunt's house. Told from Christina's perspective the bulk of the book is really about Will and his attempts first to get a job with his beloved aircraft, then to fly again and to save the money to get his damaged leg fixed so it will bend into cockpits. When that small matter is resolved, Will wants to design and build his own plane.

Christina is on the sidelines for this but her own life is interesting too. Much to her aunt's dismay she decides to get a job and trains as a hotel receptionist. She does other 'fast' things such as staying all night at the airfield (as the only woman) to help with the planes. Though she rebels against her aunt's social conservatism she is still very much subordinate to Will who treats her very casually. She is, as she says, always second to his first love, flying.

The book is a very satisfying read. The general thrust of the plot is not particularly engrossing but there are plenty of exciting episodes. Peyton also shows just how well she can write. Her descriptions of these early experiments in flying are wonderful. Christina is terrified of flying but feels that she must always appear never to mind either Will's exploits, dangerous through they are, nor her own trips into the sky. Crossing the channel was the ultimate test of her nerve:

The sea, as they came inevitably closer, resolved itself into waves and troughs. The metallic similes were lost in the reality of the stuff. There was nothing fanciful  in its nature at close quarters. Christina looked over the side, down over the wings, and saw the restless, desultory heaving of the grey waves. There was no comfort there; they were heedless of her feelings, grey vultures slip-slapping in an endless, pointless dance up and down the Channel. She looked at the back of Will's head, and pictured him disappearing under the grey waves, and the hot tears welled up inside her goggles so that she could no longer see. Better not to see, she thought, sniffing numbly, better never to think ... 'Dear Aunt Grace, We are over the sea ... Dear Aunt Grace, The sea is over us ...'

Will being a man of few words when it comes to their relationship, the oil-splattered scrap of paper saying, 'I love you', which comes during the above flight is the nearest Christina gets to romance.

In the end, I think this has become my favourite of the series, something which I wasn't anticipating. I like the development of their relationship, which whilst not very egalitarian, is also quite real. I also like the group of friends that they gather round them: gentle pilot Sandy and the exciting Dorothy.

Watch points:

Peril: there are lots of heart in mouth moments with the flying. Especially when they take up stunt and exhibition flying. I suspect these scare adults (with a more advanced sense of anticipation) than they do children however!

Death: pilots die flying these early planes. One significant character dies and characters (one nice, one nasty) from the previous book also die. The reactions to death are very well done: the shock and horror at an accident; the casual indifference to the death of a brutal and bullying parent. They may require some talking through, especially with the young end of our age group.

Relationships: Will is more likely to touch his plane than Christina, but there are discussions of what it is Christina may or may not do (like stay out all night at the airfield), of what is 'proper', which requires a bit of understanding of the facts of life, and some understanding of the social conservatism before the war.

Overall: a lovely historical novel. Plenty of excitement, but rather episodically so. Some of the other books in the series, especially the last one Flambards Divided, have some significantly more adult themes, so you might need to bear that in mind when introducing younger readers to this book.

Other reviews and useful sites:

You can read my review of the first novel Flambards here.

K. M. Peyton has her own website and there is a nice piece on her in The Guardian.

There is an excellent review of Flambards on academic Rohan Maitzen's site here, and one of the Flambards series on the blog  A Thing With Feathers.

I bought my copies of the quartet from the lovely Jane of Jane Badger Books who is a national treasure when it comes to pony books. Jane's K.M. Peyton page is here. Jane has a history of the English pony story coming out this month, Heroines on Horseback.

A TV adaption was made of the first three books and is available on DVD

Keeper by Mal Peet

Keeper by Mal Peet is a remarkable book and one unlike any other that I've read for this age and ability group. It combines a demanding and imaginative storyline with the kind of sophisticated writing more usually seen in the more literary novels for adults. Yet the themes of father figures, landscape and identity, ambition, and personal fulfillment, played out through the medium of football are such that there are no major social concerns for a reader of any age in our group. It is the perfect G&T book in that sense.

Paul Faustino is South America's top sports journalist and the novel begins as he sits down in his office with the goalkeeper known as El Gato, the cat,who has been part of the un-named team that has just won the world cup. Faustino is expecting a fairly ordinary tale of the keeper's poverty-striken childhood as the son of a poor logger in the jungle, and a typical rise through the ranks of players to the national team. What he gets stuns not only Faustino but also us, the readers, for Keeper is magic realism for kids.

Not always El Gato, as a child the keeper thought he was no good at football, he was known as La Cigüeña, or the stork. Gato's village was in a forest clearing and he was warned off the forest by his superstious grandmother but once the other kids banned him from playing he wandered off alone. There, as he says, he didn't find so much what he wanted, as it found him. He meets the mysterious ethreal Keeper, a ghostly, shamanic figure who appears only in one place (apart from one incident later in the book), an immaculate and unlikely football pitch away from any of the forest paths. And the Keeper and his teaching changes La Cigüeña into El Gato. It is football, but it is the psychology of football, the myth and mystery of football, not Roy of the Rovers.

Magic realism, the presentation of the fantastical as though it is real usually without explanation, and often to make a political point, has drawn some very impressive practioners to its style ranks over the years, Angela Carter, Toni Morrison and Salman Rushdie to name but three, and it, appropriately for this novel,  can be very strongly considered as Latin American, as writers such as Alejo Carpentier, Gabriel García Márquez etc, show. In taking this Latin American style along side the South American setting Peet is echoing the work of Louis de Bernières whose South American novels are also in the magic realism tradition. In this then , as in so many other ways, Keeper is such a grown-up book.

Magic Realism for children is a slightly odd idea as they, nutured on fairy tales, may see nothing odd in  the presentation of the fabulous along side the real. The execrable Rainbow Fairies series for younger girls (very pink, very glittery, very predicatable, very poverty striken in imaginative terms) places two ordinary girls Kirsty and Rachel who do ordinary things in situations where they interact with a parallel fairyland. Similarly, the children in Enid Blyton's Faraway Tree series live with mother and do chores before interacting with magic in the forest not unlike our goalkeeping hero does in Keeper. Yet no one would makes claims for Rainbow Fairies or  The Faraway Tree to be magic realism.

What lifts Keeper further than mere fairy tale is clever and complex. The narration for a start utilises adults. Faustino, who like us is a narratee receiving the main narration, is clearly an adult, probably someway into middle age. A brave move for a children's book. The second narrator within the text is El Gato himself and whilst he is a younger man, he is undoubtedly also an adult. In fact for a children's book there are remarkably few children or teenagers in it. Our child reader's point of interest is that our hero is just 12 or so when the story begins, when our adult keeper starts his recollections, so their empathy is heavily directed towards the main character as he lives his life and strives to find out who he really is. But El Gato is already an adult and we know he has won the world cup, so this is clearly not a linear story (again, how grown-up). We're obviously not meant to wonder about that outcome, we're meat to listen to the rustling political sub-texts of the plot. The fanastical Keeper is shown to us through the eyes of adults, to emphasis the strangeness, the magicalness, of the acceptance of this reality. When magic doesn't go just because you're grown-up, then it is truly Magic, and a magic beyond mere football.

So what is it about if not football? Well football (and there is a lot of brilliantly described football, described from within the head not by the feet nor the roar of the crowd) certainly forms the centre of the book, but about it spin the themes. How does Gato interact with the men of his family, what of his mother's hopes for him, and what of the forest that his father and the other loggers do daily battle with? And here's the politics: its an eco-tale of rainforest destruction. Of the power of the forest to inspire and destroy, and of human greed and need for nothing to stand in the way of progress. Of what sort of men we should make into heroes, and of what heroes really do. Play for Real Madrid or right social wrongs? Is El Gato a shaman? What have the forest and the spirits taught him?

I've stated all that very baldly, but the narrative is very subtle. Whilst Gato's decisions become clear in the last pages there is no sense in which the main omniscient narrator preaches: in fact we are shown throughout that what we don't understand is often more important than what we do.

This book is not just for football fans, it is not just for boys, and it is not just for children or teenagers. I loved this book, and I know it will be one I'll re-read. Keeper is the first of three books by Peet featuring Paul Faustino.

Watch points:

Death: Gato's father dies, knocked into a ditch by a tree where he drowns in the mud. This is described at the end of the book, and though Gato is clearly disturbed by the death, it is not over-played within the text. The mysterious Keeper is not a shaman but part of the spirit world, and why becomes clear at the end of the book.

Violence: a jealous colleague has Gato followed by men with knives at one point, but otherwise there is nothing worse than what you see on Match of the Day.

Peril: the fear of the unknown, the slightly spooky nature of the forest and fear of failure are all present. Nothing the average 9+ couldn't handle.

Religion: this is very spiritual and mystical book throughout : this is the element in which it swims. There is no overt religiousity however.

Anything else: Paul Faustino smokes (which seems appropriate somehow, it is how an old fashioned journalist should look). There is a long description of a big cat hunting - related to the football.

Overall: A truly grown-up, remarkable book that both entertains and demands your respect for the writer on every page. Entirely suitable for 9+ but feels like a work for adults. Wonderful, sensitive, tactful, tasteful, imaginative, sophisticated and elegant throughout. One of my books of the decade.

Other reviews and useful sites:

The author's own site is here.

There is a review in The Guardian here by Jan Mark which argues for a Fisher King/Arthurian view of the book, a review on Kirkus here, and an interview in The Telegraph here.

There is a review by a 12 year old by on BBC Norfolk's page here. (Peet is from Norfolk).

There is a blog review on Persnicketysnark here.

The Salt-Stained Book by Julia Jones

The Salt-Stained Book by Julia Jones, the first in the Strong Winds Trilogy, is a wonderful mixture of social realism and sailing novel. It's sort of Swallows and Amazons meets Tracy Beaker. I first came across it on Geranium Cat's children's book blog Hurleyburlybuss and I'm very glad I decided to read it.

Teenager Donnie Walker's family is unusual: he lived with his grandmother and his disabled mother Skye until his grandmother's recent death. Skye is deaf and autistic and Donny communicates with her through sign language. Knowing social services will think that he and Skye can't cope on their own Donny makes sure his grandmother's last letter, to her estranged sister in China, is posted. Great Aunt Ellen is their only hope. After a cryptic telegram from Ellen arranging to meet in Shotley, Donny and Skye set off to make the journey down to Essex from Yorkshire. They don't quite make it before they're ambushed by social services after Skye goes into meltdown in an Essex car park.

Now Donny is fighting for his, and his mother's, freedom. With Skye locked up in a mental health unit and stuck in a vicarage with well meaning but distant foster parents and their dysfunctional foster family Donny must find a way to make the rendezvous with his great aunt. Social services and the police are behaving oddly and seem to have a greater interest in his aunt than makes sense, especially as they claim not to believe she exists.

Overlaying the gritty realism of life in care is Donny's burgeoning romance with water. His grandmother had always kept him and Skye away from water; there has been no swimming or sailing in his youth, but from the moment he gets his hands on Swallows and Amazons Donny is obsessed. At school he falls in with the determined Ribiero sisters and with the help of their family he learns to sail.

In the end the water seems his only hope of meeting his great aunt, and like John in Swallows and Amazons a brave night sail seems his only chance.

The main thrust of the plot would be exciting enough but the story is bookended with a prologue and then a final explanation of the deaths of two sailing brothers during WWII. The loose threads caused by this and the rather strange behaviour of a police officer named Flint and Donny's social worker suggest the adventure has only just started and buying yourself the second book in the trilogy suddenly becomes very necessary!

The parallels with Swallows and Amazons, and with Treasure Island, are obvious throughout but unlike S&A  The Salt-Stained Book has action from the first. If you hadn't read those classics you can still follow the plot, but you'll obviously get so much more out of the book if you have. Spotting the characters is fun, and the word play is clever: Maggi and Peggy both being pet names for versions of Margaret, for example, emphasising how the Ribiero sisters so clearly parallel the Blacketts.

I was not totally convinced by some of the teenage dialogue, especially at the start, but not so that it spoiled the book. The plot, charactisation and inter-textually make for a fascinating novel. Donny engages you right away and you will him to succeed. The women in the novel are all fascinating, and all very different, from his remembered grandmother to the dreamer Skye, to the Ribiero sisters, to strange Anna in his foster home, to the mysterious Great Aunt Ellen.

The book is almost self-published, in that Golden Duck is the publishing vehicle of the author and her partner, but she is an established writer with several other books to her name, and is, amongst other things, an expert on Margery Allingham and her family.

The book, physically, is far from self published, indeed the production values could teach mainstream publishers a  thing or two. The cover is by Claudia Myatt and there are vignettes throughout in the style of older children's paperbacks. The design is excellent (with a named designer, Roger Davies, on the colophon) and there are interesting extras such as a diagram with parts of a dingy, and details of the fingerspelling alphabet used by the deaf.

All-in-all there is charm and excitement on every page.

Watch points:

Peril: this is much tenser book than Swallows and Amazons, and Donny's dramatic sail to meet his aunt is quite scary, but not worse than, say, Treasure Island. The scariest thing, I think, is Donny's uncertain future and the fact his mother is locked up, rather than the physical problems. There are the briefly referred to dangers of being in the navy in WWII.

Violence: there is a rather brutal interview with the police officer and odd social worker.

Death: Donny's grandmother dies, just before the book starts, which is the catalyst for the events of the book. The seamen in the WWII flashbacks die, one in an apparent suicide. Donny's grandmother's death is handled well as the imaginative Skye has some lovely ways to say goodbye which Donny recalls.

Relationships: friendships, and parenting (both good and bad) are covered but not romantic relationships. Donny's parentage, and indeed Skye's, is in question, so some basic knowledge of the facts of life are assumed. The other children in the foster family are from a badly broken family, with different dads.

Religion: the foster mother is a vicar, and the portrait is not a flattering one!

Anything else: the foster family is dysfunctional in itself, as well as the problems that the children come from. There is a suggestion of Chinese gangs/smuggling with the implied violence/drugs etc. This is not over played. The politically correct blinkers on social services and the foster family get them into real trouble, and mean the foster kids can manipulate them. There is of course lots of sea and boat related language which may challenge.

Overall: this is an exciting book in its own right, with the added bonus of its relationships with Treasure Island and Swallows and Amazons. Autism, deafness, and non-traditional families are all dealt with sensitivity. The very middle-class Ribiero family with their kindness, intelligence, education, culture and money are black and make for a very positive portrayal. Unlike social services the Ribiero parents treat all the children as people with their own talents, attributes and needs. For those who have read Swallows and Amazons, the Ribieros are Mother and Uncle Jim at their best! The WWII flashbacks and some revelations at the end of the book mean that much more is to come in the next installments: A Ravelled Flag and Ghosting Home. A lovely book, making a great start to an intriguing series: highly recommended.

Other reviews and useful sites:

The author's website is here.

There an article in The Telegraph here and a review in The Guardian here.

There is a review by Amanda Craig here and another from The Nancy Blackett trust here.

There is a review on Hurlyburlybus here.

I have reviewed both Swallows and Amazons and Treasure Island  for this blog too.