Review of the Day: Starcross (Part One)

They say science fiction for kids doesn’t sell.  They say a lot of things, but this particular belief is pretty widespread.  Space may be the final frontier, but as far as kidlit publishers go, literary reaches for the outer limits aren’t worth the paper they’re printed on.  Still, there is some sci-fi that simply must turn a profit.  Take Philip Reeve, for example.  This is the guy who conjured up the YA “Hungry City” chronicles.  Who single-handedly found a way to combine gross colonization and space travel in the seemingly effortless children’s title, “Larklight”.  You simply cannot look me in the eye and tell me that an author as talented as Mr. Reeve isn’t going to get at least a couple fans here and there.  And if sci-fi doesn’t sell then why on earth are we lucky enough to see the sequel to “Larklight” on our bookstore shelves?  Yes, “Starcross” is here and fans of the intergalactic adventures of Myrtle, Art, and Jack Havock are bound to be pleased as we see them tackle their toughest enemies yet: The Moob.

When last we saw our heroes, siblings Myrtle and Art were living peaceably once again in their house (which happens to be a bit of highly dangerous alien handiwork, though that’s neither here nor there), Larklight.  Peaceably might be a bit of a stretch, actually.  At the moment decorators have descended on the old home and no one is getting any rest.  After a mysterious invitation arrives inviting the family to the beautiful and otherworldly grand hotel Starcross, the family picks up and leaves only to find things very mysterious indeed.  Their old friend Jack Havock is there in disguise, paying close attention to the lady guest Miss Beauregard (and you can imagine how happy that makes Myrtle).  Guests appear to have disappeared from the surroundings, and then there are the black top hats.  Not merely elegant headgear, the hats turn out to be horrid alien creatures from the far future called Moobs.  With plans for universal domination, they intend to open a portal to the future and allow more of their kind through so as to take over and dominate the world around them.  It’ll take some pretty fancy footwork for our heroes to overcome this mind-controlling threat and save the day once more.

You know you’re in safe hands when you find the term “Amanuensis” on the very first page.  Those of you who were fans of “Larklight” will find much to love in this story as well.  Favorite characters return (though they have a nasty tendency to either get their minds chewed on or their bodies turned into trees), and villains outdo themselves in sheer nefariousness (not a word, I know).  As per usual, Mr. Reeve is juggling a series of different genres.  The Victorian boys adventure novel.  Science fiction.  Penny dreadfuls.  To this mix you may now add “drawing room mystery”.  The secret of Starcross plays out like a humdinger of a game of Clue (though you might want to remove the top hat from your game of Monopoly and add it to the list of murder weapons for this particular game).

Anglophilia is a must with this kind of story, however.  Reeve isn’t afraid to include out-of-date Britishisms that may serve up a giggle or two for American audiences.  For example, I know what the term “horny-handed sons of toil” means, but no one should be too surprised if a reader here or there misinterprets. The book is so unapologetically English that Reeve has even managed to find a way to sneak railroads into intergalactic space travel.  And let me tell you, that is no mean feat though it makes for an odd read when you’re a Yank.  I mean, by dint of our own history, we are inclined to sympathize with a French villain’s motives and plans.  Plus the idea of a world in which the Yanks were never able to get out from under the yoke of Mother England may be a pleasant fantasy for Brits living and breathing today, but even the least nationalistic American amongst us has to chafe a little at the thought.

Still, it truly is the author’s language that sucks you in.  Not only does he create consistently amusing and diverting new worlds, but he also has the verbal skills to back them up.  So it is that you hear about the planet Vestibule, “which is hollow, and inhabited by people who live upside down upon its inner surface, and Abnegation, which was woven out of brown string by Presbyterians.”  Heck, the bawdy music-hall song titles are worth the price of admission alone.  Songs like, “Dearest Margaret, You Are Danish and Your Dog’s Not Very Well” and “My Grandfather’s Sqallaxian Bogusoid Was too Tall for the Shelf.”  I hate it when my review decomposes into me simply repeating a book’s clever sentences, but Reeve has that effect.  A reviewer simply cannot resist statements like, “my army consisted of me, two elderly gentlemen who were not feeling quite the ticket, a grumpy goblin, two anemones, a large crab and a blue lizard of the gentler sex.”  Perhaps I’m a loon, but I find sentences of that sort simply irresistible.

If you’re foolish enough to have not yet read “Larklight”, citing such piss poor reasons as “I don’t do sci-fi” or “Space scares me”, overcome your personal weaknesses and give the book a shot.  After that, “Starcross” is bound to please one and all.  Now I feel like there’s something I’ve forgotten to mention in this review… what was it… what was it… AHA!  The opinion of children!  After all, this book is supposedly written for them.  Well, I can attest for a fact that you won’t find any children’s reviews of “Larklight” on Amazon.com.  What are we to take from that?  This is one of those books that’s going to hit a very specific segment of the population.  It’s not for the unwashed masses one and all.  It’s for a kid here and a kid there who will find themselves sucked into Reeve’s world and never want to let go.  Here’s looking forward to the next book in the series!

On shelves October 16th.

Someday, somewhere, someone will create a database of picture books that work best when you read them aloud. Maybe one already exists, but how extensive is it? What I really want is a listing that continually updates as each and every new readaloud comes out. A seasonal list that takes into account all publishers, large and small, and their potential readaloud catalogs. Because, you see, if such a list were to exist, it would allow me to check and see whether or not Joel Stewart’s utterly charming, "Dexter Bexley and the Big Blue Beastie" was included. It appears to be tailor made for reading to large groups, but appearances can be deceiving. You never know how well a book will do until you’re reading it yourself to a captive audience of five-year-olds. Whatever the case, a good readaloud or not, "Dexter Bexley" has the distinguishing characteristic of being an amusing story, well penned, and delightful to the eye. Would that all our British imports could claim so much.

So there’s Dexter Bexley, just minding his own business, when he happens to run his scooter right smack-dab into a Big Blue Beastie. A derby wearing, scarf-wrapped Big Blue Beastie. A derby-wearing, scarf-wrapped Big Blue Beastie who is bored and can’t think what to do about it except eat little Dexter Bexley up. Fortunately the boy is a quick thinker and is able to come up with a couple diversions. When the Big Blue Beastie grows bored of scooting on his own scooter, he’s talked into delivering flowers. When that wears thin the two become private detectives, solving a variety of different cases. And after that they create a desert of hitherto unseen proportions. In the end, however, Dexter runs out of ideas for distraction, and it is the Beastie who comes up with a plan, buying the two of them some lollipops. After all, it is no longer SO bored, "now that I’ve found a friend."

Any good picture book worth its salt knows how to play around with simple language. In this particular case, Stewart has a penchant for the understated. This is a supremely wry little book. One that isn’t afraid to downplay the ridiculousness of a situation. Jokes in this book will appeal to both children and their jaded parental units. For example, I appreciated that when the "stocks and shares went up and up" of the Beastie and Dexter, the creature is heard to say, "Now I’m REALLY bored." And the sheer variety of cases the boy and Beastie share together when they become detectives are great. "The Rubber Glove Affair" (in which a variety of colorful gloves have been blown into balloons and are floating above the earth carrying our two heroes). "The Bicycle from Beyond". Even their arch nemesis gets a great name like "Professor Hortern Zoar".

The art too is odd and infinitely interesting. Stewart indulges in squiggly pen lines with vibrant colors within them. And dialogue tends to come in eclectic little speech balloons that curve and pop up around the narration when it best suits the needs of the book. The Beastie is the real lure here, however, and in him Stewart creates the ultimate British gentleman. Though he may sport claws and a suspiciously jutting jaw, this monster is a lovely mix of the frightening and the benign. He has, after all, delicate little feet sporting shoes with criss-crossed laces. For reasons I couldn’t really pinpoint, the pictures here reminded me of Edward Gorey’s work. It has a purposeful shakiness that Gorey lacks, but if you get above and beyond that you can see all kinds of similarities in terms of proportions and nonsensical beasts.

If you happen to be in a particularly Anglo centric mood, consider pairing sweet "Dexter" alongside such other recent remarkable titles as Nicholas Allan’s, I’m Not Cute! or The Opposite by Tom Macrae. Both are sly little books, and both have a core of sweetness to them that never disintegrates into mush. I believe it may have been the School Library Journal review of this book that suggested that one might also pair this with a fellow boy-and-his-best-monster book, Leonardo, the Terrible Monster by Mo Willems. The tone of these two books is rather different, but they might go well together, if only because their physical layout isn’t all that dissimilar. In the end, however, Joel Stewart has created a mighty original creation all on his own and it’s well worth a read. Recommended to anyone with a penchant for deep and abiding silliness.

Other Reviews: Kids Lit, Times Online, and Gleaner Zine.