Signed, Skye Harper

 There are lots of things I loved about Carol Lynch Williams' newest YA novel, Signed, Skye Harper, starting with the voice of the fifteen-year-old protagonist, Winston (a girl, by the way), who loves swimming and a boy  named Steve and her grandmother and trashy Harlequin romances (with titles that made me laugh).

She felt realistic to me as someone still trying to figure out her place in the world--and because of the way the YA/MG division works out, it doesn't feel like we have enough characters in that weird in-between stage. Winston fills this beautifully.

The story, set in the 1970s, begins with a bombshell--a letter from Winston's Mama (who goes by the stage name Skye Harper), who wants Winston and her Nanny to come get her in Las Vegas. The problem: they live in Florida and don't have the money for a cross country trip. But then Nanny gets the wild idea to steal an old friend (and boss)'s brand new motor home, and they set off, oblivious to the stowaway on board (Steve, who coincidentally happens to be Winston's local crush).

I liked Winston's relationship with her Nanny and found her conflicted feelings towards her  mother (who abandoned her at four) to be utterly believable. The plot itself is pretty thin--aside from the basic premise, a lot of the action is more emotional than plot-driven. I didn't mind so much, because I enjoyed Winston's point of view, and the short chapters kept things moving.

Things I didn't love: I'm still not sure about the ending, and I didn't love Steve. I had a hard time buying his appeal--I wasn't ever convinced that his affection for Winston was more than physical attraction (here's a fifteen-year-old boy who's had three serious girlfriends, appears to be somewhat experienced sexually, and is smoking marijuana the first time we meet him). I guess I wanted someone with a little more sweetness and naivety to match Winston's inexperience.

The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place

 Julie Berry's newest novel, The Scandalous Sisterhood of Prickwillow Place, is nothing like her previous, All the Truth that's In Me (excepting a historical setting)--which may be a good thing. As moving as that book was, I found this one utterly delightful. It mixes so many of the things I love: a good mystery, Victorian manners, clever girl heroines, and humor.

The seven students at Prickwillow Place, Mrs. Plackett's boarding school for young ladies, are horrified one night at Sunday dinner when their mistress and her ne'er-do-well brother suddenly drop dead at the table of apparent poison. Instead of doing the expected thing--notify the police--the girls decide (at the suggestion of Smooth Kitty) to bury the bodies in the garden and keep up the pretense of their existence so that they don't have to return to their various unhappy home situations. From this point, of course, a wild romp ensues, beginning almost at once when the  neighborhood descends for the surprise birthday party Mrs. Plackett planned for her brother. As the girls try to maintain the façade that their mistress still exists, keep house, negotiate suitors (the older girls appear to be 16-17ish), and solve a mystery, the plot continues to escalate. The premise is wildly implausible, but Berry executes it with such panache that I didn't mind at all.

While some reviewers have complained about the adjectives preceding the girls' names, I found them funny (and a fairly Victorian touch). Smooth Kitty is the clear leader, but I also loved Stout Alice, who was stout of both form and heart, Pocked Louise (a clever young scientist)--even Dour Elinor, with her fascination for all things macabre, had her charm.

The dialogue was witty, the characters interesting (if not always likeable), the situations funny, the bits of romance sweet, and the writing clever. Overall, a terrific middle grade novel. I'm not honestly sure how this appeals to the target 10-14 year old demographic, but I loved it.

Longborne

I have said before that I'm a sucker for Jane Austen adaptations. Almost inevitably, I'm disappointed by them, but that doesn't stop me from trying. Jo Baker's Longborne--the story of Pride and Prejudice from the point of view of the servants--succeeds where so many others fail. I saw this novel first pitched as a kind of Downton Abbey meets Austen, and had to read it. I'm so glad I did. The historical research was impressive, the characters sympathetic, and I loved the feeling of having my brain a little twisted by seeing a story I very much adore from a different perspective.

The story is told primarily from the point of view of Sarah, the young woman who serves as one of the two maids in the Bennet household. Sometimes the POV switches to Mrs. Hill, the housekeeper-cook, or James, the newly hired footman with a hidden past. But Baker's writing is so lovely that even when POV shifts occurred mid-scene, I rarely noticed them.

It's true that the Bennets don't come across smelling like roses in this version--but that's entirely the point. What looks lovely and neat and airy in Austen films required a small army of servants to upkeep--and when small households like the Bennets are involved, this inevitably means drudgery for someone.

For instance, early on Baker writes (from Sarah's POV):

The young ladies might behave like they were smooth and sealed as alabaster statutes underneath their clothes, but then they would drop their soiled shifts on the bedchamber floor, to be whisked away and cleansed, and would thus reveal themselves to be the frail, leaking, forked bodily creatures that they really were.

Nothing like washing someone's underwear to take away the magic in a relationship!

And again, referring to preparations for a ball:

It meant a flurry of excited giggly activity above stairs; it meant outings, entertainments, and a barrowload of extra work for everyone below.

Elizabeth's charming resolve to walk to Netherfield after a rainstorm to see Jane becomes:

Such self-sufficiency was to be valued in a person, but seeing her set off down the track, and then climb the stile, Sarah could not help but think that those stockings would e perfectly ruined, and that petticoat would never be the same again.

In the same way, it's impossible to read this without looking at the characters from Pride and Prejudice in the same way, but this did not diminish my enjoyment of this book (or of Pride and Prejudice).

Aside from the plot, which was by turns serious and romantic, there's pleasure just in Baker's lovely writing.

For Elizabeth the days had scudded by, but for Sarah they had expanded and swelled and grown beyond all possibility, so that every crease and dimple in them, the scent and silk and warmth of her hours, now absorbed her senses so completely that she was dazed by the world, soaked in it, more alive than she had ever been before.

Or this:

This doggedness, this bloody-mindedness: it charmed him in a way that he could not quite fathom. . . .

She was tougher than she knew. She wanted nothing from him. She brushed him aside like a fly. He found this quite delightful.

For readers looking for a familiar variation on Pride and Prejudice, this is not their book. But for fans of the novel and the time period looking for a new perspective, this was altogether lovely.

In the Shadows

 In the Shadows, Kiersten White and Jim Di Bartolo

I loved this little gem of a book. In an unusual combination of text and gorgeous illustrations by Di Bartolo (husband of the fabulous Laini Taylor), this story follows a handful of teenagers in turn of the century Maine. Sisters Cora and Minnie have had an idyllic childhood, but a chance encounter with the local witch and the death of their father have changed all that. When Arthur shows up at their mother's boarding house, their mother claims him as a long-lost relative. But Arthur hides dangerous secrets about his past. Brothers Charlie and Thomas are sent to Maine for Charlie's health, and fall quickly for the sisters. But Charlie is dying and Thomas overheard a strange conversation of his father's that suggests a darker purpose for their visit. When strangers start converging on the town, dangerous secrets begin emerging.

I'll admit I didn't understand the art at the beginning, though I was intrigued. As  I read, the graphic novel added a layer of depth and intensity to the story, because it made it clear that something big, something supernatural was happening. And White's prose was  lovely edition. Romantic, gothic, eerily beautiful--I read most of this in one sitting.

Cinders and Sapphires

Leila Rasheed, Cinders and Sapphires

This was my indulgence read for the week. Set in early 19^th C. Edwardian England, this book seems to be a young adult version of Downton Abbey, replete with housemaids with extraordinary dreams (Rose wants to compose music), beautiful if antagonistic (step) sisters, a handsome dissolute son and heir (with his own romantic entanglements and a secret he desperately wants to hide), a handsome but ineligible suitor for Ava (the main character, who longs to study at Oxford) and a wide ranging cast of characters. Very much ala Downton Abbey, the story is soapy and fun—as long as you’re willing to sustain a certain suspension of belief.

Esther the Queen

Heather B. Moore, Esther the Queen (Whitney, Historical)

Esther has always been one of my favorite Biblical heroines, and I enjoyed reading Moore’s meticulous recreation of her story. Thought the overarching plotline remains true the Bible account (if the timeline is abridged), Moore does a nice job of fleshing out other details. I wasn’t entirely convinced by the backstory to Haman, but I thought the accounts of the harem and Persian court culture were fascinating, and Moore did a great job making the romance between Esther and the king believable and compelling. My major complaint is that the story wrapped up too quickly. After building for some time to the confrontation between Esther and Haman, things seemed to resolve fast.

Book Review, YA: All the Truth That's In Me

Julie Berry's All the Truth That's In Me has made several award lists, including a Penguin Blue Ribbon selection, A YALSA Best Fiction for Young Adults Top Ten title, A 2014 Edgar Award nominee for YA, A Kirkus Reviews Best Teen Book for 2013, and more. And in this case, I think the book deserves the hype.

This is the second book I've read in the last two weeks with a second person point of view. Like Jennifer Quist's Love Letters from the Angel of Death, this novel is told entirely in second person, as short snippets directed to Lucas, Judith's childhood friend and the boy who has her heart. Two years ago, Judith and her best friend disappeared from her small town of Roswell Station (and although this initially made me think sci-fi, this Roswell has nothing to do with aliens). Judith's best friend's body was discovered days later, but Judith disappeared for months. When she finally returned, she had been viciously silenced: her tongue had been cut out.

Much of the story deals with the aftermath of Judith's traumatic and mysterious disappearance. Judith's mother largely ignores her, uncomfortable with the daily reminder of her daughter's violation. Judith herself won't speak (except in these lovely excerpts to Lucas), and her brother doesn't seem to notice her struggles. But when enemy forces assemble against the village, Judith thinks she knows a way to save her family and friends--but to do so means facing her own nightmares and weaknesses.

This book surprised me in a lot of good ways. The language itself was lovely: lyrical, almost poetic prose. But the story was surprisingly readable. I think I read it in about two days, pulled along by a quick-paced plot and a burning need to know what happened to Judith. Many of the other characters also proved to have unexpected depths, which I liked.