Everyone Was Right

I've read quite a few very good books the past couple months, but I'd feel silly reviewing them here. These days, I choose the vast majority of my books based on blog recommendations—i.e., books that have probably been reviewed multiple times on various widely read blogs. I feel like I'd just be saying, "Ditto, ditto, ditto."

Well, here is a post to do just that. Some of my favorite reads from the past couple months. Links to other people's reviews. And me saying, "Yeah, uh huh, yeah."

Little Brother, by Cory Doctorow
"While the price of security and freedom is high, it is never too high." But what about when the price of security is freedom? In this frighteningly plausible tale of homeland security v. personal freedom, teenager Marcus, after being detained in a secret prison for suspected terrorism, starts a freedom-fighting movement among his fellow teens in San Francisco, taking advantage of the Internet's culture and (if you do it right) anonymity. But can a bunch of kids really take on the U.S. government and win? Words of wisdom: "Don't trust anyone over 25."

Reviewed by every blogger and her cousin, including...

• Confessions of a Bibliovore
• Jen Robinson's Book Page
• The Reading Zone

The Shape of Water, by Anne Spollen
Andrew Karre mentioned this one in the comments to my post about teen books dealing with depression, and then it snagged a starred review from Kirkus (no mean feat), officially putting it on my radar. That was all I knew going into it, so I wasn't sure what to expect. And even if I'd been told what to expect, I don't think it would have prepared me for what I found. To say that this book is about grief and moving beyond grief isn't sufficient. It took me by surprise with its strangeness and beauty and glimpses of humor amid the darkness.

Reviewed more coherently at:

• Confessions of a Bibliovore

Set in Stone, by Linda Newbery
Actually, having searched Google Reader, I'm not sure where I got the rec for this one, but this was another book that swept me away. Though a challenging read due to its formal early 1900s language, it manages to be quite the page-turner! Fresh university graduate Samuel Godwin arrives at the Four Winds to tutor the estate's two teenage girls in art, where he soon senses that all is not as it seems. Meanwhile, the girls' young governess, Charlotte Agnew, is reluctantly reaching similar conclusions. What lurid secret drove away the last art tutor and last governess in quick succession? Did it have anything to do with the girls' mother's tragic death? I know I said I'm something of a callous soul when it comes to crying over books, but the beauty and power of this book brought tears to my eyes in the closing pages.

Unfortunately, every review I've seen of Set in Stone contains spoilers I wish I'd missed, so as to better enjoy the mystery. But if you want to know what you're getting into, it was reviewed at:

• Big A little a

Twelve Long Months, by Brian Malloy
Unrequited love is a familiar theme in coming-of-age novels, but it never feels stale in this book. Molly has left small-town Minnesota for Columbia University; as it happens, Mark, the object of her affection, is headed the same way to work for his uncle's painting business. Mark, Molly learns before completely humiliating herself, is gay. If it only it were that easy to shut off her feelings for him! Malloy avoids stereotypes, cliches, and the Hollywood version of college, and the last lines are so perfect for the story I have to share them: "I guess you could call this a love story. Not the one I wanted or imagined, but a love story, all the same."

Falling into the recent discussion of class in YA lit, Molly comes from a family without much money, her parents did not go to college, she attends Columbia on a full scholarship, and she often has to let her more affluent friends pay for their nights out. In turn, Molly has more money than Mark, who supports himself working in a drugstore, and when she returns to Minnesota views the town's low to low-middle income circumstances with fresh eyes.

More extensively reviewed at:

• Worth the Trip
• YA New York

Black Rabbit Summer, by Kevin Brooks
I tore through this loosely (but never shlockily) written, somewhat psychedelic thriller at breakneck pace. Pete, his sensitive but socially-off friend Raymond, and several other old friends meet up for a drink and a night at the carnival. Cue the off-key carousel music and scary clowns! By the end of the night, Raymond has disappeared—and so has the town's pop starlet. When the police and media focus all the attention on saving her case, treating Raymond only as a suspect, Pete delves into an investigation of his own. The book reads like a cross between Donnie Darko and Brick would watch: dark, violent, weird, yet thoughtful.

Reviewed at:

Worth the Trip

Everything You Want, by Barbara Shoup
So often we see money as the great problem solver. But after Emma's family wins a lotto jackpot, Emma begins to wonder if it actually creates more problems than it solves. We all know the truisms "the best things in life aren't things" and "money can't buy me love", etc., but this book never becomes a morality play (or the Beverly Hillbillies). It's about each character searching out what they truly want in spite of—rather than because of—the new money in their lives. For Emma, a college freshman who's never dated (her closest experience hither-to resulted in her getting punched in the face), it's about groping her way into the future and, she hopes, finding love along the way—universal themes in spite of extraordinary circumstances. Also, did I mention that much of the dialogue is downright hilarious?

Reviewed at:

• Bookshelves of Doom

No Cream Puffs, by Karen Day
In the year 1980, Maddie will be the first girl to play baseball in her town's middle school league. Problem is, she doesn't want to be a celebrity or viewed as a trailblazer; she just wants to play ball (and hopefully attract the attention of cute teammate Tommy). This is a gently humorous upper-middle-grade novel dealing with typical family, friendship, and crush concerns in the context of sports. Its execution, with fine writing and well-rounded characters, is what makes it stand out.

My only quibble worth mentioning was the use of "feminist" as a dirty word. I understand that Maddie doesn't view herself as a feminist, but I wish a knowledgeable adult (Mom, maybe?) could have explained that yes, actually, she is—that feminism doesn't mean bra-burning or man-hating but, y'know, pursuing your dreams on the assumption that your gender shouldn't matter to the world at large. There's too many people in 2008 who still don't understand that. Can we please set the next generation straight?

Reviewed at:

• Jen Robinson's Book Page