Sara's Library: This Dark Endeavor

This Dark Endeavor by Kenneth Oppel
Simon & Schuster 2011
ALA Teens' Top Ten Nominee 2012
Bram Stoker Award for Young Adult Novel Nominee 2012
A-

I have been a fan of the macabre and gothic for as long as I can remember.  I think I first read Poe in third grade, which I followed up the next year with Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris.  Although Frankenstein was assigned reading during my senior year of high school, I had read it years earlier.  So when I began to see reviews for Kenneth Oppel's prequel, This Dark Endeavor, I knew I had to read it.

In this prequel, Victor Frankenstein has an identical twin brother, Konrad, who he believes to be his better at just about everything.  When Konrad becomes ill with an unknown (and perhaps incurable disease), Victor, his cousin Elizabeth, and their friend Henry decide to save him...through alchemy.  The trio discover a secret library of alchemical texts in the Frankenstein manor, but cannot decipher the archaic texts.  Learning of a disgraced alchemist, Dr. Polidori, living in the slums of Geneva, the group seek out his aid and soon embark on dangerous adventures for the ingredients required for the Elixir of Life.

Meanwhile, the family solicits the advice of an experimental doctor who determines that Konrad's disease is what we now know as leukemia.  While he is able to improve Konrad's condition, he cannot cure it, driving Victor to try yet harder to create the Elixir.

But is it truly brotherly love that drives Victor into this frenzy?  Or the desire to excel at something which his brother never can?  Darker yet, is Victor's secret desire to usurp his brother, especially in the heart of Elizabeth.

One of my only qualms with this book is that it doesn't stylistically mirror its "descendant."  While that marvelous work was an epistolary novel, this one is not.  The prose attempts to affect the style of the period, though I did find Victor's sense of humour a tad out of place, feeling somewhat modern at times.  While the characters are not the most complex or original, often falling into tropes of young adult fiction (snarky protagonist, headstrong girl, etc.), the work substantially reworks Ms. Shelley's story, leading readers to piece together that Victor's later creation is not a mishmash at all, but his brother.  Given the love triangle developing between the brothers and Elizabeth, one can imagine there will be bad blood between the two before events lead to the Modern Prometheus.

Mr. Oppel has already written a second work in the prequel sequence, titled Such Wicked Intent and released at the end of August.  While I've not yet had a chance to read it, I certainly intend to, and if the title is any indication, we can expect it to grow considerably darker.

The Witch-queen of Swampsea

Chime
by Franny Billingsley
National Book Award finalist 2011

Set in turn-of-the-century England, Chime recounts the story of teenage Briony, a self-effacing girl who claims to be a witch. In the first few sentences of the novel, she claims also to be a murderer, blaming herself for the swamp sickness that has claimed the lives of numerous townspeople, as well as the death of her step-mother. Her twin sister, Rose, who appears to be autistic but is never described as such, is also a major cause of Briony's self-loathing, as the girl again blames herself for her sister's condition. Due to the great amount of self-hatred depicted, I a number of people at my book club had difficulty slogging through this book, but it definitely pays off in the end.

While this novel definitely has elements of fantasy with various swamp spirits playing key roles in the plot, it often doesn't read like a fantasy novel, leaving several of my colleagues confused as to whether Briony was hallucinating or actually experiencing the various events involving the spirits. This uncertainty is probably the only qualm I had with the book, overall. The prose is usually rather elegant, indicative of Briony's class and her love of writing, and the story blends fantastic elements with reality rather well. The love interest, Eldric, is quite likeable, as are Rose and Briony. But, despite all its positive factors, Chime just didn't stick with me. I may well read it again someday, but I found myself really having to cull through my memory just to write this short review, and I know a friend of mine felt the same way.

Of the finalists for the National Book Award, this and Okay for Now are definitely my preferred titles; however, none of the nominees really jumped out at me as titles that will become canonized. Time will tell, I suppose.

Grade: B+

Luke Aaluk's School Days

My Name Is Not Easy
by Debby Dahl Edwardson
National Book Award finalist 2011

In the 1960's, an Inupiaq (Eskimo) boy called Luke, whose real name is too difficult to for non-Inupiaq to pronounce, is sent to a Catholic boarding school, along with his two younger brothers, to complete his education. The majority of the students are other Inupiaq kids and kids from the Athabascan tribe, and the two groups do not get along. Speaking their tribal languages is forbidden, and the boys find it difficult to live under the guidelines imposed by the strict Catholic faculty.

While the subject matter is interesting, primarily because there is little fiction pertaining to Native Alaskan matters, and I certainly learned a decent amount about various real-life incidents like the Duck-In and iondine-131 testing among students, I found the writing to be distracting and a bit sloppy. At the beginning of each chapter, Ms. Edwardson would note the character upon whom the chapter would focus, but the POV for specific characters would shift throughout the book. For example, the majority of Luke-focused chapters would be written in first-person through his perspective; however, near the end of the book a clearly marked Luke chapter is written in third-person for no apparent reason. This happens with a few other characters, as well.

Also, since there's no over-arching plot, the book reads more like a series of school vignettes. Unfortunately, this has a negative effect upon readers' emotional connection to the characters, so when dramatic events take place, such events did not have the impact they might have had with a better writer.

My Name Is Not Easy is the second National Book Award finalist that I have had qualms about. It, and the previously reviewed Inside Out and Back Again both seem, to me at least, to have been nominated because of their diverse subject matter alone, and not because of the strength of their writing or expected longevity.

Grade: B-

From Saigon to Alabama

Inside Out and Back Again
by Thanhha Lai
National Book Award 2011

In 1975, young Ha and her family are scraping by in Saigon, waiting for her father, a naval officer, to return. When the family learns that South Vietnam will soon fall to the communists, however, Ha's mother makes the difficult choice to flee. Crammed onto a boat with hundreds of other families, Ha and her family decide to go to America, where they are sponsored by a man in Alabama.

While the book is divided into thematic sections -- Saigon, the boat, and America -- the American section is definitely the longest and one of the more emotional sections, as Lai details Ha's attempts to fit in at school and in the community. Aside from a neighbor who happens to be a retired teacher who helps Ha with her English, there are few likeable American characters. It is unclear if this was intentional in order for readers to better sympathize with the Vietnamese protagonists or if it is factual, as Ms. Lai based a number of events on her own childhood in the South.

Given the subject matter, I had expected the book to be far more emotional. Perhaps it is because the verse prevents any major character depth or analysis, but I felt rather disconnected throughout its duration. I'm glad that there is a children's book about the fall of Saigon written through the POV of a Vietnamese child, but I feel like this book, at least, is more focused on America and assimilation. It's a worthy attempt, but it falls short.

Grade: B

New Town, New Possibilities

Okay for Now
by Gary D. Schmidt
National Book Award finalist 2011

The late 60's were a difficult time in which to grow up. Civil rights, the Vietnam War, the assassination of Robert Kennedy...These all made it increasingly difficult to navigate through childhood and adolescence. For Mr. Schmidt's protagonist, Doug Swieteck, add in being the new kid in town, and having an alcoholic father and a brother newly returned from the war. Life is far from easy for Doug.

After a local store is robbed (and the younger of Doug's two older brothers is suspected), Doug is either treated with contempt or ignored completely by his fellow classmates, teachers, and townspeople. The only people who give him a chance are Mr. Powell, the local librarian, and Lil Spicer, the daughter of the local grocer for whom Doug works as a delivery boy. Throughout the book, Doug's moods fluctuate wildly, depending on how he's being treated, which I found to be extremely realistic.

The other major story thread throughout the book concerns a copy of Audobon's bird prints, which are being auctioned off one by one to fund the library. As Doug learns how to draw with Mr. Powell each Saturday, copying the Audobon prints, he gradually becomes attached to the pieces and begins a crusade to return the sold prints to the library. In an age where government funding of libraries is being significantly decreased, as law-makers question the role of libraries in this digital age, it was wonderful to see Mr. Schmidt portray the library as a place of learning, and also for him to promote advocacy.

What I was probably most impressed with was Mr. Schmidt's ability to convey a broad range of emotions through simple text. Since our protagonist begins the book as an illiterate, the sentences are succinct and usually devoid of adjectives, yet they never seem to condescend to the intended audience.

There's a lot of buzz about this book at present, and a good many people are predicting a Newbery. I haven't read the other books that people are predicting will be nominated, so I can't say for certain if Okay for Now will win, but I can say that it's well worth a look.

Grade: A

P.S. I still don't know why the cover depicts a boy with a paper bag over his head.

More Than This Provincial Life

First, I'd like to apologize for my long absence. I've spent the last few weeks packing everything I own, moving 450 miles from Chicago home to Pittsburgh, and settling into the new apartment. For much of that time, I've been without Internet, so I'm only just now getting to write about the following book. I am also currently without a library card, having just moved, so posts may be sporadic for the next few weeks.

A Northern Light
by Jennifer Donnelly
Carnegie Medal 2003, Printz Honor Book 2004

In her small turn-of-the-century upstate New York town, Mattie Gokey is considered a bit peculiar. Along with her best friend, Weaver, she continues to attend the town schoolhouse daily, despite being sixteen, in the hopes of receiving her diploma and attending Barnard College. With her mother recently deceased, however, as the oldest child Mattie is expected to tend to her father's farm and her younger sisters. College, and the life it could bring, is a distant dream.

While working a summer job at a neighbouring hotel, the Glenmore, Mattie finds herself embroiled in a murder case, as she is the recipient of a number of letters the victim had written. Despite having been asked to burn the letters by the victim prior to her death, Mattie keeps them, slowly unraveling the motive of the murder.

The book tends to be marketed as a mystery due to the subplot involving the Grace Brown murder, but I would categorize it as an historical slice-of-life novel, as the focus throughout is on Mattie and the various events occuring around her. Those expecting a whodunit mystery will be rather disappointed here.

I felt that Ms. Donnelly did a wonderful job in conveying what ordinary life was like in rural New York in the early 1900's, from detailing mundane farm chores to the attitudes of the day concerning feminism and racial prejudice.  Her meticulous research is not just apparent from the lengthy bibliography in the back of the book, but from the quality and accuracy of the writing itself, which is somewhat rare, even in historical fiction.

More than anything, this book appealed to me because I liked the character of Mattie so much.  I could very easily relate to her, as I was always the odd one with my nose in a book, dreaming of distant locales more interesting than my own, and I thought the "word of the day" chapter headings were a fantastic touch, given Mattie's obsession with vocabulary and writing.  I do have to wonder, though, if the Disney version of Beauty and the Beast had any influence over Ms. Donnelly's writing, as Mattie often reminded me of Belle, just as her love interest, Royal, was a somewhat less chauvinistic Gaston.

Grade: A

"What an incomprehensible machine is Man!" -- Jean Nicolas Demeunier

The Astonishing Life of Octavian Nothing, Traitor to the Nation Vol. I & II
by M.T. Anderson
National Book Award 2006 (Vol. I), Printz Honor Book 2007 (Vol. I), Prinz Honor Book 2009 (Vol. II)

When I first read Octavian Nothing last year after receiving the books for Christmas, both volumes quickly became two of my favourite works for young adults (surpassed only by the His Dark Materials trilogy). In my book club, volume one had been nominated twice, losing both times by only one vote, before finally winning after its third nomination. I had been wanting to re-read the books for some time now, but book club gave me an excuse to put aside new books in order to do so.

The premise of the novel concerns a young boy, called Octavian, who is being raised by the Novanglian College of Lucidity in Boston in the years leading up to the Revolutionary War. His mother, Cassiopeia, claims to be a princess, and the boy is taught Greek, Latin, music, etc. as any child of the nobility might. Things are not as they seem, however, as Octavian and his mother are actually African slaves, and the boy is taught in the classical method as an experiment in which the collegians are attempting to determine if Africans are as mentally capable as their European counterparts.

After his mother rebuffs the sexual advances of a nobleman from whom the college hopes to receive investments, both she and Octavian lose many of their previous privileges, though Octavian's schooling does continue in part.

The latter half of the first volume and the entirety of the second detail Octavian's involvement in the Revolutionary War, first on the side of the rebels and later as a member of Lord Dunmore's Ethiopian Regiment. While the beginnings of Mr. Anderson's work asks its audience to question the so-called benevolence of the College, this latter half is even more philosophical, asking what liberty is and whether it can truly be bestowed upon humanity so long as governments exists.

An epistolary novel, both volumes are mainly comprised of the diary entries of Octavian Nothing, as well as various letters, advertisements, and other documents that aid the telling of his tale. As such, Mr. Anderson does a truly brilliant job making his audience believe that this journal was written in the 1700's, using archaic spelling and grammar. While this might cause the work to be viewed as difficult to the average teenage reader, I think Mr. Anderson should be commended for his authenticity, as well as for his historical accuracy.

Although such dense language often causes characterization to become lost in the mire, there is no such problem here. The characters are quite vividly portrayed, well thought-out, and, often, sympathetic. The language is such that one can genuinely feel the characters' doubts and hopelessness, as well as their joys. And, given its epistolary nature, I think this is a great accomplishment.

Grade: A+

The Dream-makers

The Invention of Hugo Cabret
by Brian Selznick
Caldecott Medal 2008, National Book Award finalist 2007

Having wanted to read this book for a while after its release, I finally stumbled upon my chance last month at book club. One of my associates there had brought her copy to the club, hoping to spark interest in the upcoming film adaptation (directed by Martin Scorsese!) to be released this fall. Perhaps because I was sitting next to her, or perhaps because I was the first to speak of an interest in the book, I was able to borrow it.

Although the book is over 500 pages long, it's a graphic novel/prose hybrid, consisting of over 200 illustrations, so it's a fairly quick read. Being a children's novel, the prose is relatively simple, as well. Nevertheless, Brian Selznick's gorgeous illustrations are far more descriptive than any prose might have been, as it would have been difficult to truly convey the dreamlike quality of a number of scenes, especially those involving Papa Georges's pictures.

The plot at its most basic tells the story of a young boy, Hugo Cabret, who is living in a train station in Paris. His father, a clockmaker, died recently in a fire, and his uncle has disappeared. Everyday, Hugo tends to the clocks in the station so no one will realize his uncle has disappeared. Hugo also keeps an automaton in his room, as his father had been working on it prior to his death and Hugo hopes to repair the machine.

After Hugo is caught trying to steal a wind-up toy, his father's notebook pertaining to the automaton is confiscated by the old toy-seller, Papa Georges, but the man agrees to return it if Hugo works for him. As time passes, Hugo begins to uncover not only the secrets of the automaton, but of the strange old toy-seller.

Although the plot is fairly straightforward, The Invention of Hugo Cabret is a truly magical work. Why? Well, for me, it must be because at its core the book is about cinema, the people who create it, and the people who love it. And cinema is a world of dreams. It certainly helps that I am a terrible film geek and quite fond of early silent cinema, which is featured prominently in this book. However, I feel that anyone with a dream will adore this work.

Grade: A

Exploring Humanity's Dark Side...Again

The Curse of the Wendigo
by Rick Yancey

After reading the first installment of The Monstrumologist last autumn, I greatly anticipated the release of the sequel. I received a copy for Christmas and began to read it on the bus home to Chicago (completing about half of it during the trip). While Will and our Byronic doctor return, none of the other characters from the first novel make an appearance in this installment (my husband was rather disappointed with the absence of Kearns, though I've read that he is in the upcoming third novel). As in the first installment, the writing attempts to mimic that of the Victorian Era in which it is set and utilizes several apt literary allusions throughout the course of the work, including that of Dante's Inferno. This installment also includes several historical figures (Jacob Riis, Bram Stoker) in secondary roles, which I felt helped the work with its goal of being read as truth.

While the first book's monster is clearly presented as such, things are not so black and white in this second installment. When Warthrop's best friend goes missing in Canada while investigating the wendigo myth, his wife Muriel (Warthrop's former fiancee) convinces Warthrop to search and retrieve him. Numerous bizarre events occur during the hunt, but Yancey never clearly states if the wendigo is a supernatural being or the psychological ailment that shares its name. This may disappoint younger fans looking for monsters, but we older readers know well that mankind is often the most terrifying monster of them all. Just as the monstrous actions of Dr. Alastair Warthrop were juxtaposed with those of the anthropophagi in the first book, here we are asked once again if one's actions can lead us to become monsters. Was it Chanler's jealousy, both of his wife's love for Warthrop and of Warthrop's superior skills as a monstrumologist, that ultimately led to his dissent into madness? Or did he truly ride the wind and become a wendigo?

The first installment was quintessentially gothic. The action took place in a small town remote from the rest of society, and there were various forays to cemeteries and mad houses. We questioned humanity through the lens of a Byronic hero, who, though extremely intelligent, was equally moody and arrogant. And while he remains in this installment, the shift between the frontier gothic reminiscent of Charles Brockden Brown and the urban gothic that dominates the latter half of the book is a bit jarring. Rather than trying to pay homage to both sub-categories of gothic literature, I feel that the work would have been stronger should it have focused on one or the other. But this is a minor complaint.

Those who enjoyed The Monstrumologist will surely also enjoy The Curse of the Wendigo. And any who complained about a lack of character backstory in the previous installment will be quite gladdened by the amount of information given about our good doctor.

Once again, I look forward to reading the next installment, Isle of Blood, which is to be released this fall. Given its setting in the Middle East, I am curious if it will include any references to William Beckford's Vathek, but I suppose I shall see soon enough.

Grade: A-

The War to End All Wars

Leviathan & Behemoth
by Scott Westerfeld
Locus Award for Best Young Adult Fiction 2010 (Leviathan)

In the first installment of Westerfeld's new trilogy, Leviathan, we are introduced to Alek, the sheltered son of the recently assassinated Archduke Franz Ferdinand, and Deryn Sharp, a Scottish girl pretending to be a boy in order to serve in the Royal Air Force. For the first third of the novel or so, the chapters alternate between the two characters, allowing readers to familiarize themselves not only with the two leads, but also with the disparate societies from which they come: the machine-obsessed Clankers and the life-fabricating Darwinists. Our heroes finally meet when Alek, while on the run from German forces, witnesses the crash of the British airship Leviathan in the snowy Alps, and, despite his better judgement, decides to aid its crew. Not long after, the story truly gets under way when Alek's men join forces with the Leviathan after another German attack.

The story moves at a breakneck pace, often spending more time detailing the design of various machines and battle maneuvers, rather than developing the characters, which was a major complaint of mine. I knew as I began Leviathan that it was the first of a trilogy, but compared to other such books, it felt more like set-up, not a story that could stand on its own. Additionally, the novel claims to be a steampunk alternate history of WWI, but aside from changing the axis and allies to Clankers and Darwinists, there is little difference with reality. However, since Westerfeld decided to create his own heir, rather than use one of the Archduke's real children, it is possible that in later volumes the course of history will veer from our own.

Despite the first volume's apparent flaws, I still decided to read Behemoth, and I am glad that I did. This second installment is much more like a novel than a screenplay (unlike its predecessor), and a decent amount of character development is present. The novel's setting of Istanbul also provides a new cast of characters, as well as a plotline heavy on intrigue and politics, as both the British and Germans attempt to gain the Ottoman Empire as an ally.

Consistent throughout both novels are two things: the writing style and the illustrations (drawn by Keith Thompson). Given that the series is set during WWI (and steampunk, on top of that!), I would have liked to see a writing style reminiscent of the period, at least in the characters' speech, if not the exposition. Unfortunately, Westerfeld does not deliver, and while his writing is serviceable, it is not very impactful. Thompson's illustrations, on the other hand, are a sheer delight. There are typically one or two such pictures per chapter (all in black and white), and they served as a great aid in depicting the various machinery described in the book.

Even with its flaws, the Leviathan trilogy is proving to be an enjoyable one, and I only hope that the final installment, Goliath (to be released in October 2011), improves upon the series yet more.

Grade:
Leviathan: B-
Behemoth: B+

What Makes the Monster?

The Monstrumologist
by Rick Yancey
Michael L. Printz Honor Book 2010

Every October, my book club tries to read a spooky YA book. Last year's selection was The Graveyard Book, so I suppose with that in mind, I can understand why other members of our group were expecting harmless ghouls to be the focus of Yancey's new work. Of course, they were terribly wrong, as the book is extremely graphic and reads somewhere between a penny-dreadful and 18th century Gothic literature. To give an example, the book begins with a vivid description of how an anthropophagus (the featured monster of the book) has not only eaten the corpse of a virginal girl, but impregnated it, as well. Worse, the anthropophagus fetus is still alive, so our twelve year old protagonist, Will Henry, must watch as his master, Dr. Pellinore Warthrop, aborts the abomination. This book is definitely not for the squeamish.

Will and the doctor spend the entirety of the novel trying to thwart other massacres at the claws of the anthropophagi, which we learn much later in the novel are in New England because of a failed experiment of Warthrop's father. Both Doctors Warthrop, as well as the characters of Dr. Starr and Jack Kearns, present various degrees of morality, and through them, one of the major themes of the work is explored: What makes a monster? Is a monster a creature of nightmare who feeds upon human flesh? Or can it be something more human? A man so dedicated to the pursuit of knowledge that he endangers innocents? Or a man who becomes his monstrous prey, no longer retaining any sense of compassion or empathy? Though Yancey never directs the reader's thoughts to any particular answer, the well-planned plot leads the reader to question the motives of all involved.

Presented as a journal compiled by Will later in life and given to the author, The Monstrumologist is written in a characteristically Victorian style, replete with verbose sentences spanning several lines of text and sundry literary allusions. For a reluctant reader, it may prove a bit challenging, but the subject matter and amount of gore should be enough to keep the attention of most. Being a fan of Victorian and Gothic literature, this book was a welcome change to much of the YA I have been reading recently, and I highly anticipate the next installment Curse of the Wendigo, which was released several weeks ago.

Grade: A+

Two Mini Reviews: Ash and The Book Thief

Before I ever had a blog or decided to start reviewing YA and juvenile fiction, I read Ash and The Book Thief for my book club in April and June, respectively. Since it has been a short while since I read these two particular novels, I'm just going to put up a couple of mini reviews. For books I've read more recently, I'm hoping to do more detailed reviews in the near future. If you have any suggestions for format or reading selections, please let me know!




Ash
by Malinda Lo
William C. Morris Debut Award Finalist 2010
A retelling of the fairy tale “Cinderella,” Ash follows the titular character (short for Aisling) in her quest for belonging after the death of both her parents. Treated as a servant by her stepmother due to her father’s outstanding debts, her only solace lies in reading the familiar fairy tales of her childhood. Longing to escape to the fairy world, she is eventually approached by the fairy Sidhean who offers her the opportunity to make her dream a reality. However, she also meets and befriends the king’s huntress, Kaisa, and must choose between the two disparate worlds.

Labeled a lesbian Cinderella story by many reviewers, I expect that a number of conservative parents will be upset by their teens reading this book. It is for that reason that I would like to clarify that there is nothing explicit regarding the relationship between Kaisa and Ash. It is a simple, old-fashioned romance, and I imagine that if the two persons involved were of the opposite sex, no one would think anything of it.

Written with clear, simple prose reminiscent of the fairy tales that directly inspired it, Lo’s debut novel is an enjoyable, albeit brief read. The world in which the novel takes place is fully developed, complete with its own holidays and fairy stories. My only complaint with the book is that the ending was much too neat and predictable. I had hoped that Kaisa would need to sacrifice something in order to prevent Sidhean from taking Ash to live with him in the fairy realm, but no such event occurred. With the vast number of stories relating various quests into the fairy realm to retrieve those taken by the fairies, Sidhean’s willingness to remove his claim upon Ash seemed to be a bit out of character.

While I had my qualms with the work, I am greatly looking forward to Lo's next novel, which is to take place in the same world, albeit a century or two before Ash. I would certainly recommend this to any fans of shoujo ai or of fairy tale retellings.

Grade: B+

*****
The Book Thief
by Markus Zusak
Michael L. Printz Honor Book 2007
When I first started reading this beautifully melancholy book, I was put off considerably by the writing style. The narrator of this particular WWII story is Death himself, but Zusak portrays him as being far more human than the typical scythe-wielding reaper. He has an annoying tendency to stop in the middle of the exposition to focus on one particular word or event, which is always written in bold face. It reminded me quite a bit of Alvy in Annie Hall and his frequent destruction of the fourth wall. And, while it might be perfectly acceptable to have such a narrator in a Woody Allen film, it didn’t suit the mood of this novel at all. It really felt to me like Zusak was somehow trying to be hip, or to connect with his teenage audience.

Literacy and the power of words figure prominently in the work, and not merely because Liesel, the novel’s protagonist, learns to read via the books she steals (or more often, rescues). What amounts to one of the most beautiful scenes in the book occurs when Max, the Jew hiding in Liesel’s basement, presents her with a picture book entitled “The Word Shaker,” in which all the hateful rhetoric of the Fuhrer and the Nazi party is embodied in the form of a forest. One day, a girl lets a single teardrop fall for a man, later planting the seed of friendship that had formed from it. Though the two tend to the tree until it is one of the tallest in the forest, it ultimately falls to the axes of hate and discrimination. Even lovelier than the symbolism of the story itself is what Max uses to write the story: a copy of Mein Kampf that had its pages painted white.

Instead of presenting a tale specifically about the Holocaust and its victims, Zusak instead chose to focus on the lives of everyday German civilians and how the war affected their way of life. Through incidents involving various characters, readers see what became of those who refused to join the Nazi party or for their children to be sent to special academies. I greatly appreciated the author’s efforts to create sympathetic characters in an environment and era that, all too often, are demonized by the US; it is important to remember that not all Germans were the enemy and that many of them were simply trying to go about their lives as normal.

Ultimately, though I disagreed with a few of Zusak’s choices regarding style, I highly recommend this book and can easily see why it has won so much praise. I grew to be very attached to the characters, and as I expect you all to be, as well, I warn you to be prepared for quite the tragic end.

Grade: A