Monday, November 8, 2010
Friday, November 5, 2010
LARS'S LIBRARY: MY REVIEW OF RICK RIORDAN'S "THE LOST HERO"
THE HEROES OF OLYMPUS BOOK ONE: THE LOST HERO. By Rick Riordan. Disney/Hyperion, 2010. 553 pages.
Rick Riordan claims that by moving on to The Heroes of Olympus, he has escaped "the easy sort of default thing," like writing "Percy Jackson 6, Percy Jackson 7, Percy Jackson 28." During the same Lost Hero release webcast, he griped that there are "too many series" that go on "way too long," where "the book quality suffers."
That seems a bit disingenuous. Okay, Percy Jackson doesn’t make an appearance in The Lost Hero. But his presence is pervasive—he’s off on a quest—and there are strong hints of a re-appearance in the next book. Other characters from The Olympians show up. Annabeth, especially, is quite important here. Yes, there is a "new generation" of demigods, but they’re still going to Camp Half Blood. Calling The Lost Hero Percy Jackson 6 would not really be too far off the mark.
Not that I’m complaining—much. And there are gonna be a gazillion breathlessly-waiting kids eating this one up. So more power to Mr. Riordan. It will be interesting to see whether this series, or Riordan’s other new franchise, The Kane Chronicles, gains more traction in the middle school market. I’m rooting for the Kane siblings, and thought The Red Pyramid was a far more original concept.
To be fair, there are definitely some new elements in The Lost Hero. Despite the singularity evoked in its titles, the novel features a trio of protagonists, and although the narration is always third-person, Riordan divides his focus equally between them, switching off every couple of chapters.
Percy Jackson, solo; Sadie and Carter Kane, duo; now a triad—Jason, Piper and Leo. They’re most emphatically new creations, and likeable ones. Jason and Piper are immediately portrayed as beautiful people, without Percy Jackson’s initial awkwardness. That’s even with Jason having lost his memory. Continuing to move toward more of a multicultural cast (the Kanes are African-American), Riordan enlists a Latino in Leo. Likewise, Piper is not only half god; she’s half Cherokee.
New god-fathers and god-mothers, too, of course.
The real novelty in The Heroes of Olympus is going to be Rome, and the Roman versions of the Greek gods. In The Lost Hero, Jason, Piper and Leo’s quest is to free Hera/Juno and defeat Porphyion and his brother giants, who might awaken their mum.
There’s another plot line, though. Percy Jackson is operating on some kind of parallel mission that will involve the denizens of Camp Half Blood coming to term with the Roman manifestations of their Olympian progenitors. It’s a mission that connects to Jason’s lack of recall.
Goodbye, Odysseus. Hello, Aeneas and the wolf brothers.
I’ll leave it a mystery as to how that begins to come about, and since I can't as yet know how it will play out, I'll be on the lookout for the next Heroes.
Recommended for fourth graders on up.
Rick Riordan claims that by moving on to The Heroes of Olympus, he has escaped "the easy sort of default thing," like writing "Percy Jackson 6, Percy Jackson 7, Percy Jackson 28." During the same Lost Hero release webcast, he griped that there are "too many series" that go on "way too long," where "the book quality suffers."
That seems a bit disingenuous. Okay, Percy Jackson doesn’t make an appearance in The Lost Hero. But his presence is pervasive—he’s off on a quest—and there are strong hints of a re-appearance in the next book. Other characters from The Olympians show up. Annabeth, especially, is quite important here. Yes, there is a "new generation" of demigods, but they’re still going to Camp Half Blood. Calling The Lost Hero Percy Jackson 6 would not really be too far off the mark.
Not that I’m complaining—much. And there are gonna be a gazillion breathlessly-waiting kids eating this one up. So more power to Mr. Riordan. It will be interesting to see whether this series, or Riordan’s other new franchise, The Kane Chronicles, gains more traction in the middle school market. I’m rooting for the Kane siblings, and thought The Red Pyramid was a far more original concept.
To be fair, there are definitely some new elements in The Lost Hero. Despite the singularity evoked in its titles, the novel features a trio of protagonists, and although the narration is always third-person, Riordan divides his focus equally between them, switching off every couple of chapters.
Percy Jackson, solo; Sadie and Carter Kane, duo; now a triad—Jason, Piper and Leo. They’re most emphatically new creations, and likeable ones. Jason and Piper are immediately portrayed as beautiful people, without Percy Jackson’s initial awkwardness. That’s even with Jason having lost his memory. Continuing to move toward more of a multicultural cast (the Kanes are African-American), Riordan enlists a Latino in Leo. Likewise, Piper is not only half god; she’s half Cherokee.
New god-fathers and god-mothers, too, of course.
The real novelty in The Heroes of Olympus is going to be Rome, and the Roman versions of the Greek gods. In The Lost Hero, Jason, Piper and Leo’s quest is to free Hera/Juno and defeat Porphyion and his brother giants, who might awaken their mum.
There’s another plot line, though. Percy Jackson is operating on some kind of parallel mission that will involve the denizens of Camp Half Blood coming to term with the Roman manifestations of their Olympian progenitors. It’s a mission that connects to Jason’s lack of recall.
Goodbye, Odysseus. Hello, Aeneas and the wolf brothers.
I’ll leave it a mystery as to how that begins to come about, and since I can't as yet know how it will play out, I'll be on the lookout for the next Heroes.
Recommended for fourth graders on up.
WORLD OF LEARNING: HOW TO MOTIVATE READERS
"Meeting Readers Where They Are: Mapping the intersection of research and practice" School Library Journal 11/1/10
This article in School Library Journal really delivers. Too bad that too many ignore these seven simple and practical ways to get kids reading—ways backed by evidence that shows they are effective.
First, Carol Gordon writes, children need structured opportunities to read what they want to read. In schools, this is the silent reading period. Yet the trend in schools is less and less silent reading.
Second, being able to discuss what you're reading with peers, in real or virtual time, motivates reading (just ask this Goodreads guy). But true sharing of literary experience is rare in schools. More often, kids begrudgingly read required books, answer study guide questions, and participate in teacher-led discussions because they have to.
Third, being able to choose what you read is another motivator. I've been big on the idea of choice for some time. Once school starts, though, kids forgo reading for themselves as they are burdened with reading for the curriculum. They start equating reading solely with duty, not interest.
Fourth, being able to choose what you read actually makes for better reading. In fact, it may be more effective that direct instruction. Most reading instruction uses mandated materials, however.
Fifth—this seems so obvious—having a wide range of reading material readily available leads to reading. Last summer, a study done at the University of Tennesssee indicated that just giving kids some books they chose for vacation led to "a significantly higher level of reading achievement." How often do schools and parents give kids books they want?
Sixth, kids need to read during summer to avoid the well-documented summer slump. Assigning a couple of obligatory novels often results in resentful kids who fake it.
Finally, Gordon comes down hard on the use of point systems. Although it's clear that prodigious readers read because they enjoy books, many schools turn to competitive programs to motivate young readers instead of helping them to find what they want to read.
This article in School Library Journal really delivers. Too bad that too many ignore these seven simple and practical ways to get kids reading—ways backed by evidence that shows they are effective.
First, Carol Gordon writes, children need structured opportunities to read what they want to read. In schools, this is the silent reading period. Yet the trend in schools is less and less silent reading.
Second, being able to discuss what you're reading with peers, in real or virtual time, motivates reading (just ask this Goodreads guy). But true sharing of literary experience is rare in schools. More often, kids begrudgingly read required books, answer study guide questions, and participate in teacher-led discussions because they have to.
Third, being able to choose what you read is another motivator. I've been big on the idea of choice for some time. Once school starts, though, kids forgo reading for themselves as they are burdened with reading for the curriculum. They start equating reading solely with duty, not interest.
Fourth, being able to choose what you read actually makes for better reading. In fact, it may be more effective that direct instruction. Most reading instruction uses mandated materials, however.
Fifth—this seems so obvious—having a wide range of reading material readily available leads to reading. Last summer, a study done at the University of Tennesssee indicated that just giving kids some books they chose for vacation led to "a significantly higher level of reading achievement." How often do schools and parents give kids books they want?
Sixth, kids need to read during summer to avoid the well-documented summer slump. Assigning a couple of obligatory novels often results in resentful kids who fake it.
Finally, Gordon comes down hard on the use of point systems. Although it's clear that prodigious readers read because they enjoy books, many schools turn to competitive programs to motivate young readers instead of helping them to find what they want to read.
Thursday, November 4, 2010
LARS'S LIBRARY: LITERARY LINKS: HIGGLETY PIGGLETY POP
If the name Maurice Sendak only means wild things to you, check out the really offbeat Higglety Pigglety Pop.
LARS'S LIBRARY: MY REVIEW OF KATHRYN ERSKINE'S "MOCKINGBIRD"
MOCKINGBIRD. By Kathryn Erskine. Philomel Books, 2010. 235 pages.
Mockingbird is a valuable book if only because it has stirred things up a little in the kidlit world. Some of the point/counterpoint I’ve seen:
It should have just been about death. It should have just been about differences—a kid on the autism spectrum.
The first-person depiction of Asperger’s syndrome is inaccurate. The first-person depiction of Asperger’s is perfectly rendered.
The combination of school shooting, a death in the family, and developmental disorder is too depressing for a children’s book. A school shooting, a death in the family, and a developmental disorder are presented in a clear way for kids who are curious about these subjects.
It’s too cutesy. It’s quite touching.
Such divergent opinions about this nominee for the 2010 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature avoid the central issue: Was it a good story? Did you buy into the premise?
I’m going with a qualified yes. A little sappy, like any sweet story, with a resolution that’s maybe a little too pat, but still managed to bring tears to my eyes.
Caitlin, the first-person narrator, is diagnosed with Asperger’s. A fifth-grader mainstreamed into regular education in her suburban Virginia school, she lives with her lonely and distraught father.
Caitlin’s mother died when she was a baby, and her older brother Devon has since been her emotional mainstay. As ‘Mockingbird’ opens, Devon has been killed in the most random of ways—a school shooting by another student. In an author’s note, Erskine says the 2007 Virginia Tech tragedy prompted her to write the novel.
Mockingbird’s plot—Caitlin’s quest to find closure—bears up under the pressure of weaving together these multiple and solemn strands, often with gentle humor.
Children on the autism spectrum can feel sadness and loss, as well as joy and belonging, just as deeply as ‘normal’ people do. Their expression of feeling can be fresh and unique, if only we can learn to draw it out and they can learn how to frame it.
Writing a novel is difficult for anyone, and getting inside someone else’s mind is impossible, so books like this and Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time require a suspension of disbelief that can only be caused by story and language that ring true. Like Haddon, Erskine uses the character of Caitland to illuminate literal thinking, obsessive attention, and repetitive behavior in a believable way that is consistent with the criteria for pervasive developmental disorders.
Erskine’s own attention to realistic detail help the verisimilitude. Caitlin’s father is far from perfect, and somewhat overwhelmed with the responsibility of managing a kid with special needs at the same time as personal tragedy. He occasionally has to leave his daughter in the lurch by leaving the room, or in a touch I liked, turning on Fox news for its superficial analysis of the school shooting.
Other important characters, like Caitlin’s wise counselor, Mrs. Brook, and her younger playground friend, Michael, are equally complex.
And Erskine adds in a nice little literary fillip. As you might guess from the title, her book contains some allusions to Harper Lee’s classic.
Is it all too much for a middle school reader? I say let the middle school reader decide for himself. Some kids, quite naturally, have questions about arbitrary violence, mortality, and their more unusual peers, and might be looking for a novel that addresses these issues that they can easily read.
With the caveat of slightly-too-cutesy presentation and possibly-too-weighty subject matter for all readers, recommended for fourth graders on up.
Mockingbird is a valuable book if only because it has stirred things up a little in the kidlit world. Some of the point/counterpoint I’ve seen:
It should have just been about death. It should have just been about differences—a kid on the autism spectrum.
The first-person depiction of Asperger’s syndrome is inaccurate. The first-person depiction of Asperger’s is perfectly rendered.
The combination of school shooting, a death in the family, and developmental disorder is too depressing for a children’s book. A school shooting, a death in the family, and a developmental disorder are presented in a clear way for kids who are curious about these subjects.
It’s too cutesy. It’s quite touching.
Such divergent opinions about this nominee for the 2010 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature avoid the central issue: Was it a good story? Did you buy into the premise?
I’m going with a qualified yes. A little sappy, like any sweet story, with a resolution that’s maybe a little too pat, but still managed to bring tears to my eyes.
Caitlin, the first-person narrator, is diagnosed with Asperger’s. A fifth-grader mainstreamed into regular education in her suburban Virginia school, she lives with her lonely and distraught father.
Caitlin’s mother died when she was a baby, and her older brother Devon has since been her emotional mainstay. As ‘Mockingbird’ opens, Devon has been killed in the most random of ways—a school shooting by another student. In an author’s note, Erskine says the 2007 Virginia Tech tragedy prompted her to write the novel.
Mockingbird’s plot—Caitlin’s quest to find closure—bears up under the pressure of weaving together these multiple and solemn strands, often with gentle humor.
Children on the autism spectrum can feel sadness and loss, as well as joy and belonging, just as deeply as ‘normal’ people do. Their expression of feeling can be fresh and unique, if only we can learn to draw it out and they can learn how to frame it.
Writing a novel is difficult for anyone, and getting inside someone else’s mind is impossible, so books like this and Mark Haddon’s The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Night-time require a suspension of disbelief that can only be caused by story and language that ring true. Like Haddon, Erskine uses the character of Caitland to illuminate literal thinking, obsessive attention, and repetitive behavior in a believable way that is consistent with the criteria for pervasive developmental disorders.
Erskine’s own attention to realistic detail help the verisimilitude. Caitlin’s father is far from perfect, and somewhat overwhelmed with the responsibility of managing a kid with special needs at the same time as personal tragedy. He occasionally has to leave his daughter in the lurch by leaving the room, or in a touch I liked, turning on Fox news for its superficial analysis of the school shooting.
Other important characters, like Caitlin’s wise counselor, Mrs. Brook, and her younger playground friend, Michael, are equally complex.
And Erskine adds in a nice little literary fillip. As you might guess from the title, her book contains some allusions to Harper Lee’s classic.
Is it all too much for a middle school reader? I say let the middle school reader decide for himself. Some kids, quite naturally, have questions about arbitrary violence, mortality, and their more unusual peers, and might be looking for a novel that addresses these issues that they can easily read.
With the caveat of slightly-too-cutesy presentation and possibly-too-weighty subject matter for all readers, recommended for fourth graders on up.
Wednesday, November 3, 2010
Tuesday, November 2, 2010
WORLD OF LEARNING: NEW RESEARCH
"Study of Babies's Brain Scans Sheds New Light on the Brain's Unconscious Activity and How It Develops" ScienceDaily 11-1-10
"Frontal Lobe of the Brain Is Key to Automatic Responses to Various Stimuli, Say Scientists" ScienceDaily 11-1-10
"Train the Brain: Using Nerofeedback to Treat ADHD" NPR 11-1-10
"Brain's Journey from Early Internet to Modern-Day Fiber Optics; Computer Program Shows How Brain's Complex Fiber Tracks Mature" ScienceDaily 10/29/10
"Frontal Lobe of the Brain Is Key to Automatic Responses to Various Stimuli, Say Scientists" ScienceDaily 11-1-10
"Train the Brain: Using Nerofeedback to Treat ADHD" NPR 11-1-10
"Brain's Journey from Early Internet to Modern-Day Fiber Optics; Computer Program Shows How Brain's Complex Fiber Tracks Mature" ScienceDaily 10/29/10
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