2007 - The Higher Power of Lucky

It was a pretty little book with a puzzling title and a delicately sweeping image of a young girl in a red dress, clutching a object, with her hand open to the sky. Her face, lightly sketched, was wistful, peaceful. Plus that gold seal that calls to me, A Newbery Award winner! I plucked “The Higher Power of Lucky” by Susan Patron off the thrift store shelf, looking forward to discovering what it was about. 

A book doesn’t have to sock you in the first couple pages to insure you don’t get bored and set it down. Sometimes it just has to intrigue you or ask a question or make you curious about what is going on with the character. The first couple paragraphs did that for me. I’d wondered about the title. Did it mean, being lucky gave the character power? Nope. “Lucky” is the name of the character.

Lucky is crouching behind the dumpster with her ear to a hole in the wall of Hard Pan’s Found Object Wind Chime Museum and Visitor Center. She is listening to Short Sammy tell the story of how he hit rock bottom, quit drinking, and found his “higher power.” She has heard lots of rock-bottom stories at all the twelve-step meetings behind that wall; gamblers, alcoholics, smokers and overeaters, but Short Sammy’s is her favorite. He had drunk a half gallon of rum listening to Johnny Cash all morning in his parked ‘62 Cadillac, then fallen out of the car when he saw a rattlesnake on the passenger seat biting his dog, Roy, on the scrotum.

Do tell.

Lucky is always a little disappointed with the stories. Because the people never say HOW they got their higher power. And that is what she needs to know, since she needs a higher power and has no idea how to get it. Gradually we learn that Lucky has a guardian, and that the story of her parents is very unfortunate. Stability for a kid is so important, and Lucky knows that even though things seem fine, you can’t trust they will stay that way. She thinks:

“…let’s say her Guardian just gave up and quit because Lucky did something terrible. The difference between a guardian and an actual mom is that a mom can’t resign. A mom has the job for life.”

The little hardscrabble desert town of Hard Pan is where Lucky lives. Her world is populated with interesting characters including her best friend, Lincoln, who is obsessed with knots; tying them, learning new ones, talking about them. Bridgette, the Guardian, is from France, and Lucky is worried that she will decide she has had enough of Hard Pan and Lucky and fly back home, leaving her with no other option but to go to an orphanage somewhere. 

A little better communication would have helped stave off the inevitable crisis, but in reality, that is what happens. People don’t share the whole story or the plans with the kids, not realizing how deeply their minds are trying to process what’s going on, how maybe the kid thinks they have to do the work of controlling the very scary situations that seem to loom in their lives. And you cannot count on the child confiding their fears and conclusions to the grown-up in charge.

Lucky takes some lessons from the twelve-step stories she has been eavesdropping on and starts looking for signs for when she should act upon her secret plan. By now she is convinced that Brigette is going to leave her, and the best way to gain control over her life is to leave first. She is going to run away. The emotions Lucky goes through as she makes her running-away plans are plaintive. She cries as she imagines how everyone will miss her. And the next day she begins looking for the signs. 

I really liked this book. It was gently funny in surprising little situations. Her budding awareness of Lincoln as someone she wanted to impress, as a pretty girl, was humorous. Her patience with Miles, the annoying little boy who always came over for cookies, added a layer to Lucky’s character. 

I got this book at Salvation Army for about a buck. 

2013 - The One and Only Ivan

I decided to review “The One and Only Ivan,” by Katherine Applegate when I saw a Facebook post by my teacher friend, who had just finished reading it aloud to her 5th grade class. It sounded like a moving experience for her, and when I realized it was a Newbery Award book, I put it in the “Newbery Project,” and requested it from the library.

I’ve been doing a lot of digital books from the library, and while they don’t have the sensory advantages of paper and binding, their accessibility makes up for it. I had no idea of the length of the book. By touching the screen here and there, you can kind of figure that out, but I usually just start reading. I was really glad that the book was longer than I first thought and took the time to tell the story well. The characters were able to reveal themselves gradually, rather than the plot just zipping right along.

Ivan is a fully grown, mature silverback lowland gorilla. He is one of the star attractions of a cheesy little circus-mall at an interstate offramp. Ivan lives in a cage with a jungle scene painted on the back wall. And as he puts it, the waterfall doesn’t flow and the flowers don’t smell. Ivan is a survivor, and one way he survives is to put the best spin he can on his life circumstance. He refuses to refer to the enclosures as “cages.” They are “domains.”

Ivan’s neighbors, Stella the elephant, and Bob, the stray dog are like his family. Emily, the custodian’s daughter has a special relationship to Ivan because they are both artists. At night, Emily sits in front of his cage painting and drawing, and slipping crayons and sheets of paper through a hole in his glass wall.

But business isn’t going so well. Ivan isn’t a cute little gorilla anymore. Paying customers like baby animals. When Mack, the owner and operator of the circus-mall buys and brings back a baby elephant to boost sales, things begin to change for Ivan. He begins to remember events in his life that, for his survival, he’d had to set aside. And along the way, he makes a promise that seems impossible to fulfill.

The book has many many chapters. Some are longish, some are only one sentence. But these “chapters” are points of significance to Ivan, who tells the story. Some of them recount what’s happening in his daily life, some are memories or reflections or decisions.

I’d already come to the conclusion that it is wrong to keep as pets exotic animals who should be in their natural environment. And there is absolutely no ethical way to justify taking baby animals from the wild for the pet trade. “The One and Only Ivan” is a sensitive and well-written book to introduce children to that concept. 

Fun Fact: Katherine Applegate and her husband co-authored the enormously popular "Animorph" series books.

1994 - The Giver

 

Reviewing “The Giver,” by Lois Lowry has been on my list for a long time. But I have put it off. I think one reason is because it is such a significant book for its ideas and its precedence in dystopian literature for youth. I had to do justice to the teachers who required reading it and the children to whom it was assigned. And also, I wasn’t sure how to cover it properly. I didn’t read it as a child, but only as an adult. I couldn’t decide whether I enjoyed it all or just parts of it. So I let it sit. And then picked it up and read it again for fresh perspective.

Here is the warning: Spoilers ahead. I’m not just going to hint at the events and then say, “Go read this!” If you want that, you can read the back cover.

It’s a short little book, only 180 pages, and the messages aren’t complicated. When a civilization gives the authorities permission and power to make life fair, equal, safe, and predictable, the end result is that choice is taken away. And the unfolding of what that really means is why the book is gripping.

Jonas is an eleven-year-old boy in a family group. He has one little sister. That is what is allowed. It matches the available food supply and ensures a stable population. One boy and one girl. They have an enviable manner of relating to each other, the parents kind and nurturing, understanding and guiding. Jonas is nearing his 12th birthday, his coming-of-age ceremony, when he will be treated like an adult in the community. He will be assigned his job, the one he will do for the rest of his life. But he is worried. What if he doesn’t like his assignment? Soothing assurances that he will are very believable. His youth has been spent trying out all possibilities, and the elders have been paying close attention. Who wouldn’t want to have someone slot you into exactly what is right for you? Who doesn’t remember the agony of having to figure out “what I want to be when I grow up?” The reader accepts this. And continues to find out all the other choices that have been taken away from the people with the goal of peace and comfort and equality. 

Spouses are carefully matched and then assigned. Their purpose is to become a family group. After the children are raised, there is no purpose to their union, so they each go their separate ways to live in community with other childless adults. The babies are likewise applied for and assigned. This situation ensures that there are no connections, no memories passed down through generations, as if the present is all there is.

At his (and all the other 12 year-olds) birthday ceremony, Jonas finds out that he has been selected for a very rare position, a Receiver of Memories, to eventually replace the current Receiver, who is old. These memories, his own plus the collective memories of the entire community only exist in his head, and he must pass them on to the next Receiver before he dies. The memories might be vital for important decisions the elders might need to make, though apparently being summoned for advice is exceedingly rare. When Jonas asks his name, what he should call him, the man replies, “The Giver.”

Over their sessions, Jonas learns about pain, love, death, beauty, and family, things that have been traded away in exchange for security and equality. He would like to share what he has found out, see if anyone else would rather have choices. But it is forbidden to speak of what he learns, and when he tries to carefully broach the subject, he is rebuffed. No one is interested in a seeing things a different way. 

There is a sinister element that winds around their lives, clouded by a euphemism. “Released.” Such a pleasant term, such a good exchange for when it's time to give up life in the community. Or when someone just doesn't fit in. Of course, the reader knows what that really means, and Jonas’s turning point comes when he realizes it. And when it comes so close to home that he is horrified and repelled, he must act. He must leave. 

It can be seductive to consider the offer of peace and comfort in exchange for control and self-autonomy. It can start small. And some of these exchanges are necessary for societies to function. If, after the tipping point, one could turn around and view what’s been lost, then perhaps they would protest, rebel and take back their free humanity. But if the memories are gone, if the experiences aren’t there, to remember what “snow” is, or “grandparents” are, then it won’t happen. 

I wasn’t happy about the ending. There is no other way to interpret it than it is ambivalent. And of course we want to know, what really happened‽ (My favorite punctuation—the interrobang) There is apparently a sequel that seems to take care of that, but I think the most honest way of explaining an ending is to just use what is provided in the book. And if I had to pick the optimistic or pessimistic ending, I’m afraid I’d have to go with the sad ending. But you can choose the other if you wish! 

I got this book at the thrift store. It was a school library discard with the pocket and the check-out card still in it. It was charming to see the signatures of all the children who had read it over a four year span.