Gone, Michael Grant #50BookPledge

I read Michael Grant’s Gone on my sister’s recommendation, and I’m so glad I did. It’s brilliant and exciting, Lord of the Flies meets X-Men in a contemporary small town setting.

I was hooked by the very first paragraph: “One minute, the teacher was talking about the Civil War. And the next minute he was gone.” I can imagine lots of kids wish their teachers would just disappear, especially during really boring classes, but what if it really happens? What if all the adults in the world disappear? “No ‘poof.’ No flash of light. No explosion.” Just disappear. I actually appreciate how non-climactic the disappearances are, such that the kids the remain at first think they must have imagined  it.

The premise of Gone reminds me of a Star Trek episode where all the adults in an alien planet have died from a disease and the kids have formed a Lost Boys type society, basically being complete brats and driving the Enterprise crew insane. Thankfully, the children in Gone are more mature. Everyone 15 and older has disappeared. Main character Sam is a natural, albeit reluctant, leader. As scared as the other children, the only advice 14-year-old Sam can offer when the adults disappear and younger children look to him for guidance is eat a cookie. There’s almost a Peanuts-type wisdom in that advice, now that I think about it, but mostly it just reflects the children’s helplessness.

The adults disappearing isn’t the first weird thing to happen to Sam however. Something else has happened to him, which I won’t reveal here because part of the fun is finding it out, but basically it makes Sam worry that he has caused the adults’ disappearance. Later on, he finds out that he actually isn’t the only, um, unusual resident of the area, and the unusual nature of certain children may hold the key to what has happened to the adults.

In a world without adults, who’s in charge? As Sam’s best friend Quinn tells him, adults are no longer around to keep the bullies from imposing their rules. How can children who don’t know how to drive and barely know how to cook fend for themselves and care for the really young children? Even more urgent, what happens when they themselves turn fifteen?

Gone has an exciting premise and likable characters. I love seeing Sam’s growth from scared kid to hero, from avoiding the leadership role to embracing it and working to improve their situation. Quinn is an interesting character as well, a free spirited surfer unable to handle the pressure of responsibility, and I look forward to seeing him develop even further in the next book. I love that Astrid is such a strong female character. Nicknamed Astrid the Genius, she spouts random facts when she’s nervous. Her character however is given added nuance because of Little Pete, her autistic younger brother. When the adults disappear, she has no idea where he is, so she sets off to find him, taking Sam and Quinn with her. Mary, who takes responsibility for the day care centre, is forced to become remarkably mature, caring for babies and toddlers all wanting their mothers, and I love how she has her own personal demons to battle as well. Perhaps the most endearing character is Albert, who takes over the local McDonald’s. He takes his role so seriously he actually studies the McDonald’s manual cover to cover.

The bad guys range from bullies to an actual psychopath. Their leader is charming, intelligent and powerful, more than a match for Sam and his friends. I’ve always believed that amazing bad guys help make heroes amazing as well, and Gone has a match up I love reading about. The ending of their ultimate confrontation in this book was a bit frustrating, as my sister warned me, but good news is, there are several more books in this series.

One thing that surprised me is how religious some of the main characters are. It’s not a bad thing, just unusual in contemporary fiction. It’s not preachy in any way, which is good, and the events these kids face certainly merit some appeal to a higher power.

The book answers a lot of the questions it poses, even as it leaves a lot of other questions hanging. Gone is exciting, action-packed young adult fiction. I’ll definitely be checking out the next book in this series.

Blog Tour: Stones for My Father, Trilby Kent #SFMF #50BookPledge

“There once was a little dikkop that had spotted wings and knobbly knees, and a tiny voice that squeaks.” So begins a story Corlie Roux tells her brother Gert and “one or two other children” at an internment camp in Kroonstad. The British have invadedSouth Africaand are driving Boer families like Corlie’s out of their farms and into internment camps (women and children) or war prisons (men). It wasn’t as if this had come out of nowhere – Boer families have lived in fear of British invasion for a while, and many Boer men, including Corlie’s father, have already died defending their land.

Corlie is a brave girl. When faced with British soldiers, she wishes she could fight with the men instead of having to hide with the women and children. She says she wants to be a pirate when she grows up. And she tells stories, indulging her imagination and delighting Gert, even as her mother warns her that a girl should focus more on household chores and less on “spinning lies.” Her Ma admonishes her to be more practical, but it is Corlie’s stories that help her and Gert deal with such a horrific situation as war. Corlie tells the story of the dikkop because “my brother and I had seen all we needed to see of human suffering, and it was the wild beasts of the veld that helped us escape into our memories.” And so she spins tales.

See, the little dikkop is thirsty, but the lake is guarded by much larger and stronger animals like hippos and rhinos. The dikkop has wings, but is too afraid to fly. Then a klipspringer comes along and offers to help the dikkop get a drink. Can the dikkop trust the klipspringer? More importantly, should the dikkop take the klipspringer’s advice and work with the hippos and rhinos rather than fear them? Like the dikkop, Corlie meets a Canadian soldier who appears sympathetic. And like the dikkop, Corlie must decide if perhaps the British aren’t so different from her after all, and if the Anglo-Boer war isn’t a simple, black and white battle of good vs evil.

In Stones for My Father, Trilby Kent tells the story of a brave young girl forced to grow up far too early. This is a good book for children ages 9 and up who are interested in historical fiction. It’s a touching look at the Anglo-Boer War from the perspective of a child, and Kent even includes a short epilogue about the war, which provides helpful background information to readers who, like me, are unfamiliar with that point in history. Stones for My Father uses the gritty realism of such details as maggots in the flour to express the need to escape into fantasy once in a while, and more importantly, the need to try as hard as you can to hold on to childhood as along as possible.

The Girl Who Was on Fire, Leah Wilson (ed) #50BookPledge

Couple things about me:

  • I love Suzanne Collins’ Hunger Games trilogy. I think it’s one of, if not the most intelligent, relevant YA series I’ve ever read.
  • I am a major nerd. I actually enjoy English classes where we dissect novels and discuss the significance of the character deciding to wear a red hat.

So Smart Pop BooksThe Girl Who Was on Fire, a collection of essays on the Hunger Games trilogy, definitely caught my eye. Most of the topics covered — reality TV, politics, Katniss’ character — may come as no surprise, but I found the essays all fascinating. Recommended reading for Hunger Games fans who enjoy debating with friends questions like: Team Gale or Team Peeta? Can jabberjays really exist? How can one teenage girl bring down a government?

Personal highlights:

(NOTE: Just to let you know, both the book and this blog post contain spoilers. If you haven’t read Hunger Games yet, I suggest you stop reading now, and read Hunger Games instead. 🙂 )

  • “Team Katniss” by Jennifer Lynn Barnes

When I read Hunger Games, I was always baffled by the Team Peeta/Team Gale debate. I really couldn’t see the romance in Hunger Games — for me, the trilogy was all about Katniss trying to take care of her younger sister. That probably says a lot more about me than about the trilogy, as will your view on what is important in Hunger Games. (For the record, I was firmly on Team Gale until Mockingjay, where I was torn between vulnerable Peeta and BFF Gale right up till Gale’s big confession at the end. Like Katniss, I wouldn’t have been able to get past that. For that, and many other reasons, I think Katniss made the right choice in the end.)

Barnes takes a similar position, that Katniss’ choice between Peeta and Gale is more about the kind of person she is than about the kind of guy she likes: “…sometimes, in books and in life, it’s not about the romance. Sometimes, it’s about the girl.” Two thumbs up, Ms. Barnes.

  • “Crime of Fashion” by Terry Clark

I love fashion, and Cinna is probably my favourite secondary character in Hunger Games. So I’m thrilled that Clark gives Cinna the props he deserves. Katniss “might be the flame,” Clark says, “but Cinna is the torch.” Using celebrities like Li’l Kim and political figures like Michelle Obama and Sarah Palin as examples, Clark discusses the power of clothing for either enhancing or debilitating a desired public image. The arts, and creativity in general, have always been powerful tools for social change, and Cinna performs this role in Hunger Games. His designs shape the public’s perceptions of Katniss, from the girl on fire to the blushing girl in love, and of course, to that magnificent bridal gown that transforms Katniss into the Mockingjay.

  • “The Politics of Mockingjay” by Sarah Darer Littman

A political columnist, Littman examines the parallels between Panem under President Snow and America under the Bush administration. This essay shows how relevant Hunger Games is, not just to our world in general, but to specific events in recent history. Littman turns the spotlight on us, the general public, who, disturbingly like the residents in the Capitol, spend more time discussing the latest elimination in Dancing with the Stars than the countless examples of human suffering around the world. It’s a very thought-provoking essay.

  • “Your Heart is a Weapon the Size of Your Fist” by Mary Borsellino

Borsellino argues, “Love when there isn’t supposed to be love is a hugely subversive political act. If it weren’t, there wouldn’t be protest marches in countries all over the world demanding same sex marriage.” Borsellino compares Hunger Games to George Orwell’s 1984 and shows how love is defeated in 1984 but is triumphant in Hunger Games.

Other topics include surveillance, genetic engineering, the illusion of authenticity in media, PTSD, and the power of community building. This book shows just how much Hunger Games can make us think about the world around us.