It's my life.

I didn't make the cut again. Like the first time I tried the challenge, this time it just petered off, especially once I had in my head that I had to catch up. Oh well, I want to keep writing the blog now and then, even if I never complete the challenge.

It would be criminal for me not to blog about my latest completed read. It's definitely not for children but strangely it talks a lot about them.

I was twelve years old when this novel first entered my life, not long afterwards a TV mini series adaptation followed. One which my sister is still scared of to this day, the poor thing was only nine when she saw it and lucky for her, she never read the book. 

Cut to 27 years later and I'm in the cinema at age 39 going on 40, watching the second film in a two film series, which retells the story. It was a film I ended up going to see no fewer than 4 times in the cinema. I went first with my boyfriend, then with my son, then with one of my best friends, who is a guy, lastly I went with another of my best friends (lady this time). 

On only one occasion, I managed to hold it together and not cry myself into a headache (sorry Alan, I was trying to play it cool and mellow in front of you). 

On the other three cinema trips as the story was ending I felt the tears free falling and the breath in my lungs start to catch, as if the little reserves of oxygen in them were being stored for later use. I can remember, especially when sitting next to my son as the soft music played and the characters gave their final grace to the screen, hitching my breath in short gasps, fighting to suck the air in as the crying kept going. 

What does this have to do with the book you wonder? Well I shall get to that point now. 

In my life I have read this novel (all one thousand, one hundred n odd pages of it) about three times. I feel, although I hope I'm wrong, that having just finished it this morning whilst lying in bed with the sun beginning to glow through the curtains, this will be the last time I do. 

After all, it's a massive book and there's lots of other books in the world to read. It would almost be a waste to pick it up and spend my mornings reading it again.

But what is it about this novel that led me on the path to such a connection? Is it the length? Definitely not. Reading it this time around I am stunned into wondering how the hell I got through it at the age of twelve. 

I tried to let my sons read it in their early teens and they both quickly grew bored of it. Something about seeing a behemoth of a book is instantly off putting to the eye. It becomes like a marathon that you struggle to complete. Looks like I might never get to finishing Tolstoy's War and Peace (haha). 

There are definitely some sections of this book that, while adding to the story, are easily cut out. There is filler, useful filler my boyfriend calls it, but to me it's filler just the same. There are separate horror stories within the horror story, each one on its own could be told as a novella, or a short piece. And the final climactic apocalypse of the town at the end (spoiler alert) is well written but bloody long! By its end you find yourself weary of death and destruction and devastation (the three d's). 

Is it the writing style that hooked me and reeled me in? Possibly. It definitely played a part. I've always been in awe of the author. He has a God given gift of being able to combine beautiful, extensive vocabulary with short succinct sentences and powerful use of imagery that leaves me spellbound. 

I remember his use of the term 'gunmetal gray' once when describing a sky and now you find it in every other cheap thriller novel you come across. However, I was pleasantly surprised when rereading this to see that it was less his use of short sentences that impressed me, actually he had a fair few sentences of epic length, with brackets and commas and all manner of punctuation thrown in to keep them rolling along. No it was his use of pace that really stood out, the long and short sentence structures fell into a free flowing stream of words that I found addictive and easy to swallow. 

The real grab though was in the characters and their stories, the woman who marries a man that is an echo of her father, the man bent on revenge who feels guilt when he doesn't deserve it. The unrequited lover who still carries a torch where his heart burns like January embers. Or the custodian, confined to a life of poverty pain and memory, largely because of his roots and the colour of his skin. 

I related to these characters, I felt their journeys and empathised with them. And as their stories wound together I joined right in with them. I shared in their joy and sorrow. I felt their fear and heartache. Their stories were so well told that I found myself believing in every single one, no matter how far fetched it was. 

Having finished it this morning, with a real pang of pain in my chest I know now what lies at the heart of my deep obsession with this story. 

Have you ever had a moment in your life where you stop, look around you and right in that second, you realise that it will never happen to you again? 

When I have those moments, which I have done over the years, I can remember a feeling of salvation, because I live and love that moment, safe in the knowledge that it won't be repeated so I need to make the best of it. 

But it's mixed with sadness, especially once the moment is over, because all that will be left is a memory and as my mind ages, my memory will fade. 

That is the essence of this novel, the lesson it's ultimately trying to teach you, enjoy those moments and live them while you can, because once they are done, no matter how strong they are and how much they sit in your memory they, like most things in life, will start to fade. 

This message is spectacularly captured in a scene towards the end of the book. A scene where seven children form a circle, holding hands dripping with blood from where they have sliced their own palms (these days its known as a blood pact and frankly its dangerous for so many reasons - not something that kids or anyone should do). They stand huddled together on the grass by a stream as the sun starts to dither in the west. One of the children recalls the moment as he's living it. He calls to mind the whippoorwill nearby and feels like flying with it. 

Deep down, as the group's leader he savours every second of that circle, when it breaks and the children finally part ways he is the last to leave. He even waits, watching the sun set and the stars appear in the sky because in his heart he knows it is the last time he will have been with all 6 of his best friends, the last time they will have been a lucky 7. 

I've bookmarked that passage. Because it is right there, if I have to go back, if I chose to let nostalgia have its way with me, it's there I will look to. 

I am clear and certain now, that it was that same feeling I had myself when watching the film adaptation on the big screen. I cried when watching it with my boyfriend because I knew, it would be the last new experience of this story. I was slightly wrong there. There is so much of the book I didn't remember that it has felt like a new and yet oddly familiar experience reading it in my forties. 

I cried my eyes out when I watched it with my best friend (who couldn't understand what I was crying for). I cried that time because sitting next to her, that feeling of knowing an ending was the very same feeling I got when I first asked to stay at hers, that very first night I had walked away from a 22 year old relationship. 

All that feeling of ending, knowing it was over was too much pain to keep bottled in. 

But I cried the most when I watched it with my seventeen year old son. I cried because he'd seen the first half with me three years earlier. Yes I let him go in when he was only 14 and I don't regret my decision to share it with him.

After all, my uncle and parents shared the book with me when I was two years younger than that. 

So having my son sitting there next to me watching the film culminate in a bitter sweet ending, knowing that he was practically an adult, that his years of depending on mummy were over and seeing the young man he'd become meant one thing: this would probably be the last time he'd go to the pictures with his mother. 

So I cried, actually more like bawlled. The same way I cried when I saw him onto his bus home before going to get mine in another direction. The same way I'm crying my eyes out now as I'm sat typing this at half 9 on a Sunday morning while the rest of the world sleeps. 

It's good crying though, it's a release, tears that while full of sadness at the thought of letting go, are eased by the following thought of what life is all about, moving, letting go, it's all perfectly natural and in a wonderfully comforting way these tears are a symbol that I am human, with feelings as well as thoughts. Right now I feel at peace, sad but contented at the same time. 

That is how It leaves you, lamenting but perfectly at ease with it. And that is why it has had such a profound affect on me, because I can not only enjoy it, but I can wholly understand that feeling. 

It's grief, this book teaches you about grief, and I'm thankful for it. Because I sincerely believe that it has helped me to cope with letting go. 

The end.  

On a side note, having just spoken to my son, I was reminded that It Chapter 2 was not our last venture to the cinema together. We went to see another emotional mother son movie 3 months later. Clearly my forgetting that, or rather, that it happened afterwards is fairly ironic! 

A Blog Full of Goodness

I've looked at my list, by now I should have read and reviewed 31 books. When I checked this morning my current number was only 24. So, in a bit of a panic I looked at my available resources. What could suit for a quick and easy read? That is when I remembered this.

Recently I was invited to read this book to a year 4 class. The challenge was to get through the whole book inside of a week. Sadly I failed, we just couldn't dedicate enough time to reading all of the 360 plus pages.

But I thoroughly enjoyed going through the BFG journey with the children, having loved the first film adaptation (which was brilliantly voiced by David Jason) and knowing they'd all loved the more recent Spielberg/Rylance version.

The BFG has a massive universal appeal; a recent article from the BBC claimed that the BFG was the second most popular Roald Dahl book in the world, being surpassed by that very famous book about a poor boy and a chocolate factory. 

For those who have not encountered the story, it centres on a little girl (Sophie) is snatched from her place at a grotty orphanage by a very large giant who takes her back to his own world. There she is made to see the incredible job he does, catching dreams and mixing them together to create the perfect dream for a child, which he feeds to children via a large, trumpet looking device. 

There is also the issue of the bigger, bullying giants who eat children like hors d'ouevres. Sophie can not stand to see the injustice, and helps to concoct a plan to save human children and put away the other giants for good. 

The wonderful thing about this story is the dialogue, particularly from the BFG. Mr Dahl managed to play with and create new words in a way that no other author has done before or since. The only other author to come close was the late, great Spike Milligan. There is something about the way the word wangdoodle or vermicious knit that rolls pleasantly off the tongue and sticks in the head. Dahl's use of made up words and command of language allowed him to easily blend in complex vocabulary. It is a rare thing to see the word perpendicular used in informal story writing! 

The downside of the book is that there is a lot of filler, there are several scenes that feel like they don't really need to be there, such as (and I hate to say it) the whizpopping scene at the table (which actually sounds like a bit of a But in defence of that it was written and published at a time when attention spans were a little greater and stories could afford a little less of a rapid pace. 

The story itself is ingenious, a very original plot with charming characters that you feel for. I've since seen Sophie's origin story provide the setting for characters in more than a dozen modern stories. Recently I read a David Walliams book which had a girl who was almost an exact replica of Sophie. Such has been Roald Dahl's profound impact on the following generations. Whilst the themes and some of the scenes are a little too dark for younger children, the overall flavour of the book makes it ideal for children aged around 8 and upwards, especially advanced readers who can read the book independently. 

I conducted my own little survey, asking friends and family what their top 5 Roald Dahl books were, I was amazed to see how many different books came into the lists. Here, by popular vote, were the top five: 

1) Matilda

2)The Twits

3) Charlie and the Chocolate Factory/The Twits/The Witches

4)Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

5)The Witches

Whilst the BFG didn't make the popular vote, it didn't miss out by much. It came one vote behind the 1st and 2nd place titles. This is book 25 of my 52 and my book that was turned into a movie (twice). I'm off to go have me some whizpopping fizzy drink. 

Book Title: The Bfg
Author: Roald Dahl
Illustrator: Quentin Blake
First published: 1982
Number of Pages: 360
Suitable for: children aged 8 and upwards
Interesting words: grotesque, duty, trussed, efficiently, petrified, reverse, colossal, shemozzle (yes its a real word), errand, perpendicular 

* https://www.bbc.co.uk/news/entertainment-arts-37336976

Don't...ever...fall asleep.

So I've slipped again, after catching up with 5 out of the 7 books I needed to read and having read a 6th, I was on a proper roll.

But then came the return to a ludicrous pace in work and with that, a blog post that never happened, until now. 

With Halloween fast approaching and the leaves on the trees morphing through their colours as they slowly wither and die this seems the perfect time for a return to something scary. 

I happened across this as a suggested read from my local online library and with a tag line like that I was thrown back into the days of my adolescence, where nursery rhymes were sung in horror movies for dramatic effect.

The plot is about a group of kids on a school residential in a place called Crater Lake, so named because a body of water had built up inside of an impact crater. Once there things start to happen, horrible, terrible things that defy explanation.

Our main protagonist must lead a small group of survivors to a possible means of escape before confronting the nightmare that has taken over the lake. But not before the group make some unsettling discoveries about themselves and each other.

The writing feels very basic, as though the author really wanted us to feel like we were in the shoes of the main character. That turns out to be quite a good thing too as the book is written in the first person. 

For a book that is written so simply there is a surprising range of vocabulary in there. On the surface we are made to feel like we're reading a book fit for 8 year olds, but the appearance is a deception as some of the vocabulary would be challenging for younger children.

At 252 pages it moves at quite a fast pace, I was able to plough through it in a single afternoon.. The chapters are short so it never feels like a hike from one chapter to the next and the characters are very vivid, which is where the book really shines. There is one teacher featured who I'm pretty sure exists in every single school! And she's the scariest thing ever! 😂

The book has more of a Sci fi vybe than a horror one, but that doesn't stop it from having moments of tension that make your hair stand on end. 

This is book 24 out of 52 and my scary book. 

Book Title: Crater Lake

Author: Jennifer Killick

First Published: 2020

Number of pages: 252

Suitable for: children aged 9 and up

Interesting words: Hallucinating, Pesky, 

Vendetta, Jurisdiction, Pheremone, Simeltaneously, Emerge, Aesthetically

Hybrids, Imbecile, Reverberating 

My Childhood

How did you learn to read growing up? I remember how I learnt to read, it's probably one of the happiest memories from my childhood. My parents used to buy me this series of magazines that came with tapes. They were called Storyteller and the idea was that you read along in the magazine whilst hearing the tapes with the stories featured on them. You would follow along with the voice as they read the story/poem etc and pick up the intonation, the expression and all the rest. 

It is the reason that I was a fan of none other than Richard Briers as a primary school child (not many children were at the age of 8, but he did a cracking rendition of the Wind in the Willows). It is also the reason that the story for this week has been special to me my whole life. 

This story featured on one of the storyteller tapes. It centres on a boy with no parents and no name, who lives on the outskirts of a little village. He has a special stone which he uses to go fishing, for some mystical reason that he can't fathom, he only has to drop it into bit of water and if there are fish around, they are drawn to it. Because of this little trick though, and because they do not know him, the villagers are jealous and he has no friends. His life is spent feeling very lonely. 

This book is only 16 pages long, has no stand out complex use of language or breath taking plot devices, it is fairy simplistic and there is nothing that should stand it out. So why then is it so important to me that I would spend years searching and spend £20 (more than I've ever spent on any other book in my life) in order to get it? 

Simple, empathy. 

All my life I have felt like I've never fitted in, even when I've been part of a group I have also felt like the one on the outside of it. I would play the perfect 'third wheel'. I suppose I have just adapted to it over time. Would it surprise you to read that I have felt this way since the tender age of 8? 

Reading this story, hearing it read for the first time I remember connecting instantly to the main character. The boy with no name, invisible: alone. Ask anyone I know, they'll tell you, it is something I have struggled with all my life. But there's more than that, I think to an extent we all feel alone at times. Loneliness is the enemy, something we despise in spite of the fact that for us to grow, we must learn to be comfortable in being on our own.

At the age of 8 this book sent me a clear message, I will feel alone, but there is always hope that one day I will find a place where I belong. A place where I am accepted and loved for who I am and not just what I can do or bring to the table. But before I do that, I must first accept myself, I must stand up and acknowledge where I'm wrong, rejoice in where I've done right and be at peace with who I am. 

Why this massive journey of self discovery now? I found this book yesterday having thought it lost for nearly 2 years. I can honestly not describe how happy I was to find it once again. Two posts back I talked about being a fatalist, that things were meant for me at certain times in my life. If ever there was something to prove it, it was the discovery and rediscovery of this book. 

Book 23 of my 52 book list and a book from my childhood. 

Here's a link to a youtube video of the story in it's Storyteller format. 

The Fishing Stone Youtube

Book Title: The Fishing Stone
Author: Chaz Brenchley
Illustrator:  Graham K. Griffiths
Published: 1988
Suitable for: children aged 5 and up
Interesting words: huddled, compare, bulging

A Mid September's Moment of Madness

 On to my 4th post inside of a two week window. I'm certainly catching up, though I'm less confident with weekend plans looming that I'll catch up entirely. I can't complain now though, it will all be about how much I'm able to balance my life after this. It will be a challenge but I know in my heart if I apply myself, it can be done. 

I've chosen an easy book this time, after my last post I found myself mentally exhausted by the sheer depth of the text. So this time I've stretched the rules to allow for an all time favourite of mine. 

I've covered Shakespeare a couple of times in previous blog posts on account of the fact that I believe not enough is done to get primary school children into his legendary writing. This series of books is a classic example. I see tonnes of them in schools, but they very rarely get used. In fact, the copy I've just read is in pristine condition, which tells me it's never been touched. 

It would've been my mission (it might still be, covid allowing) to host an assembly, where we can act out a modern day retelling of this story. I even managed to cross theme it with Love Island, because frankly the story lends itself to that kind of 'blind date' she loves him/he loves someone else kind of theme. 

The story tells of 4 people in Athens who are caught in the most bizarre form of love square so to speak. Hermia loves Lysander but she's supposed to marry Demetrius (arranged marriage style). Helena loves Demetrius but he doesn't love her back. In fact he doesn't really love anyone. Out of pride Demetrius refuses to give up on marrying Hermia, so she and Lysander plan to run away through the nearby forest to freedom and a life together. 

Hermia's mistake is in telling Helena this, and Helena's mistake is in thinking that if she tells Demetrius, he'll be so heartbroken that he'll take her instead. And that is what leads to total carnage! 

Throw in a quarrell between the queen and the king of fairies (who I was once cast as due to my very masculine deep sounding voice) and  a man donkey and you have a recipe for a misadventure of epic proportions! 

Written by Andrew Matthews and beautifully illustrated by the renowned Tony Ross, this adaptation is wonderfully short, a mere 58 pages from start to finish. There are handy notes on the back about Shakespeare himself and his famous Globe Theatre (brilliantly described as a cross between a doughnut and a 50 pence piece). The language is easy to read but still throws in the occasional challenging word to keep readers on their toes. This book would be ideal for children from the age of 7 upwards. So why isn't it being used? 

I honestly don't know the answer to that one. Maybe the perception of Shakespeare today is outdated. Maybe we need to stop thinking that his works are only relatable to adults. At the end of the day children are shown things like Love Island at young ages (much to my chagrin). Why not expose them to more intelligent works of art that were once intended for grown ups? 

These adaptations are a brilliant way of introducing the legend to children so that, by the time they come to study him in high school (which is still pretty much compulsory) they are used to the themes and intricately woven plotlines. 

It is my dream to see my primary school and others, fully embracing the literary classics, hopefully one day that dream will come true. 

Book 22 out of 52 and my (adaptation of a) book that is over 100 years old. 

Title: A Midsummer Night's Dream
Author: Andrew Matthews (adapted from the work of William Shakespeare) 
Illustrator: Tony Ross
First published: 2001 (this adaptation anyway!) 
Suitable for:  children aged 7 and upwards
Interesting words: haughtily, accursed, idleness, mischievously, quarrelled

Too Close To The Bone

This is the first time where I feel like my abilities at both reading and writing will be put to the test. It is the first post I'll be writing not as an amateur blogger, but as a wannabe author. I am a fatalist, I get a thrill out of thinking that some things in my life happen because life meant them to: at that precise moment, at that precise point, for a reason. Like the two part Stephen King film franchise that culminated last year in me sharing the experience of my favourite horror story with my son, my partner and two of my closest friends... …all separately (yes that's right, I went to the cinema 4 times to watch the same film). 

My favourite horror story, one I discovered at the same age my son did. One that linked me to both my Godfather and real father very closely. How fitting that it ended the same year my Dad passed. 

Or how about this story? The one I've read this week? The one that has been sitting in my room for 3 years and just so happens to have been published in the year that my father and I had the biggest falling out ever. I refused to speak to him, even though at the time I knew he was terminally ill. We patched up our differences after a few months. And just when I felt we were rekindling something of a real father/daughter relationship, illness stole life from him and a father from me. What does that have to do with this week's story? Pretty much everything. I'll get to it shortly. 

I can recall picking up this book in a Waterstones. It was a 'treat me' day, go figure. I saw it at the top of the table, I love the way they put out piles of books face up on tables so you constantly get glimpses of lovely and intriguing covers. It's like going back in time to when I was at the pick n mix section before I worried about how contaminated the sweets might be. 

First time around, back in 2017 I tried it, but my heart wasn't in it. What did I know about losing a loved one or the grief? Frankly, knowing my Dad was ill meant that death wasn't something I wanted to think about. But neither did he. They say when people battle a terminal illness, that a battle is exactly what it is, but my Dad didn't battle it so much as run from it. He ran from it because he was scared, he was scared of dying. And though there have been times in my life where I've dwelt on death maybe a little more than I should, there's always one thing that keeps me grounded: I'm terrified of dying too. 

I count myself as fairly religious, but what if I'm wrong? What if death is it, just a cessation of life? If you're not ready to ask yourself those questions then do yourself a favour, don't pick up this book. Or better yet, do pick up this book and confront those fears, ask yourself those questions and start digging to the roots of your beliefs. 

The Land of Neverendings starts, as so many modern books do, with the death of a close family member. This time however, it is not the usual mother or father parlour trick, it just happens to be the older, disabled sister of the main character Emily. In the first chapter we are faced with the startling hammer blow of Holly's passing and the author paints it in such a way, that we know we are feeling real experience. 

"Emily had grown up saying 'My sister is disabled', and now she had to get used to saying 'My sister is dead.' " 

There it is, in one sentence you realise just how stark the change in poor Emily's life is. 

Just the level of Holly's physical needs (she has a special hospital bed in her room, a wheelchair and breathing apparatus) gives her character an extra dimension. As Emily attempts to come to terms with Holly's absence in her world, there is a real bag of mixed emotions. We see unparalleled grief and sadness mixed with an odd sort of liberation. At the end of the book for example we see that Emily is lead in the high school play, whilst she is sad that Holly isn't around, she is also happy that for the first time both her mother and father can attend, as in the past, one of them would have had to have stayed home to look after Holly. It is this mixed bag of emotions and thoughts that really struck a chord with me as I read it. 

The book is peppered with sprigs of beautiful language, most of which come out of the mouth of the character Ruth, an old lady who befriends Emily when her mum asks Ruth to babysit so she can go back out to work. Mum, who had been used to being at home when Holly was alive can no longer cope with being in an empty house for days on end. Something tells me Ruth would've made an excellent librarian. Instead she owns a second hand antiques shop, which is where a lot of the story takes place. 

For the first time ever, I won't give you a summary of the plot, because it's all about Emily's journey through the grieving cycle. The adventures she has are merely symptomatic of the real issue. This is where it resonated with me on such a personal level that I could swear I feel an echo right behind my ribcage! 

The climax of the story comes when we realise what Emily was really struggling with, she didn't get to say goodbye. It dwells on death, making us see the uncomfortable realities of different people's coping strategies. It covers the fear we all have of our loved ones fading from our memory. The way they sounded, the way they smelt, all those little nuances and bits that made them uniquely them. The bits we start to see vanishing after they leave us behind. It even leaves us with a message of hope at the end of the story, that the ones who go are gone are never forgotten. 

For a children's book, there are a few grown up references to be found. There's a piece on page 100 that will set the adults giggling which features inappropriate graffiti drawn on toys. And one reference to that self same adult horror novel with a red balloon that I clearly cannot name in this blog for the obvious reason that people will think I'm mad (see, it was meant for me). 

But the biggest impact it's had is that it's resonated with me on two major interlinked themes, loss and change. It feels like I've had a plaster ripped off a gaping wound that was only just starting to dry. Like Emily, I feel I was unable to get the chance to say goodbye. She even laments about the last time she saw Holly, wondering what would she have done if she'd known it would be the last time. I've had those exact same thoughts. 

The other theme, which for me is just as important, is the theme of general life changes. The first year of  high school can be a real struggle for children. Emily just so happens to be in that year, with a friend who she'd known all her primary school years who suddenly becomes a stranger to her. Part of that is about Holly's death, another part is just down to the social scene changing. It can hurt when a friend that you knew inside and out (or one you thought you knew) suddenly veers down a different path to yours. I'm in my forties and those experiences still happen to me so I know that from experience. In fact I felt much the same as Emily did through the early stages of this book in that regard. 

I was meant to pick up this book, not before my Dad's death, nor straight after; I was meant to pick it up now, when I had the solitary time to really digest it. To be able to reflect and think and share my feelings on it without holding back or worrying what people might think. 

It is probably why this post has taken me the best part of the day to write, and no matter what, to me it will probably be one of the best things I have ever written. 

Book 21 of my 52 book list and my book with an appealing cover.

Book Title: The Land of Neverendings
Author: Kate Saunders
Published: 2017
Suitable for: children 10 and upwards (due to certain phrases that might be inappropriate for younger readers) 
Interesting words: snide, beserk, threadbare, cavorting, deluge, mesmerising, mania, festooned, bonkers, rigmarole, disconcertingly, jauntily

Hope is rising

I'm not gonna lie here, I've suddenly tapped into a well of hope. Two books read in a matter of days, with seven more disposable days where I've only got me, myself and I for company. I'm now not only seeing a possible chance to catch up but potentially a chance to even get ahead! I think before I give myself eye strain of some kind I best bring my feet back to the ground.

Still I'm enjoying my new found enthusiasm and I can at least know that from here on out I've given it every acailable try, so no matter what the outcome, I've thrown everything at it from here on out. 

I stumbled across this when I desperately raided Liverpool's online library service. I literally did a sweep of children's books searching for an author who wasn't English. Believe it our not a great many of the children's literature works at the moment are by British authors. Anyway, I checked out the author, who is American with Mexican and Spanish roots and I thought, 'that counts'. The cover looked fairly interesting and at a grand total of 262 pages it really didn't feel like much of a challenge. That was me sold. 

The writing in this story is deceptively innocent, though the story is written in the omniscient third person, we are always seeing the story from the lead character's perspective, so the writing mirrors her youthful childishness. It is a complete ruse though, the complex language delicately placed in the text is like the gold thread carefully woven into a plain blanket. Of the books I've read this year it is the single biggest contributor in terms of words that can be discussed, looked up and interpreted. However, the youthful nature of the writing means that the complex words do not dominate, children as young as 7 could easily enjoy this book and get a lot out of it. So for that it already gets major kudos. 

The story starts a little generically, Esperanza, our lead character suffers a horrendous tragedy when one of her closest family members is killed (spoiler there). I'm going to create a separate post about this topic actually. My last post references the subject very briefly, but I need to have a more in depth rant and analysis of the topic of death in literature very soon. 

Anyway, coming back to Esperanza rising, the wonderfully different thing in this story is that, while important to her and all the characters around her, the death of her family member only serves as a footnote in the plot of the story. Her troubles start with the death but go on from there quite quickly. 

It tells the story of her families escape to America at the start of the 30's with their troubles in Mexico meaning they need to leave their lives behind with all haste.

It then centres on their lives in California's San Joaquin valley, working for a camp picking and growing various fruits and vegetables throughout a calendar year. The struggles of immigration, the great depression, the loss of everything that was once considered important, the real value of family and health, these are all major themes in the story. 

Esperanza and her family go from rich landowners to as poor as it gets and in the end it is their family of servants who they come to depend on as they adjust to life as Americans. One interesting historical topic that is covered here is the involuntary migration and 'repatriation' of Mexican people back to Mexico. Due to certain laws being passed at the end of the 20's officials in bordering American states were allowed to literally sweep up anyone who looked Mexican and throw them back across the border, whether they were born in Mexico or not. Many American citizens who had been born and raised in the US were suddenly sent to Mexico to live simply because of the colour of their skin. 

The estimates of people sent back were between half a million and a million people. They thought it would help solve the unemployment caused by the great depression, they were dead wrong. 

Funny how NINETY YEARS later, the real problem of financial disparity between the social classes is still the root of most of the world's injustices. 

It's like rich and poor are on opposite sides of a river, and that river seems to be widening to the extent where we can't even see each other. 

I've learned a lot from this book, I feel I really underestimated it in the first instance. I know the old adage of not judging a book by it's cover. I wonder if maybe I judged it simply because it had the big red Scholastic print on the front. Serves me right, I have definitely learnt something new or relearnt something I'd forgotten (HAHA). 

Book 20 of my 52 list and my book by an author from another country. On to the next book! 

Book Title: Esperanza Rising
Author: Pam Munoz Ryan
First published: 2000
Number of pages: 262 
Suitable for: children aged 7 and over. 
Interesting words: premonition, serenaded, congregate, capricious, monotonous, stagnant, bereft, recuperation, despondent, cacophony.