Review of the Day: The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33rd Street

Review of the Day: The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33rd Street

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The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33rd Street by Sharon G. Flake. Jump at the Sun (a Hyperion imprint). $15.99.

I’m probably the laziest person I know when it comes to reviewing books. I’m okay on the reading part, and I’m just ducky at putting a book in my To Be Reviewed Pile. It’s at the point when the book merges with the general pile that I tend to get distracted, though. Books get seriously frighteningly buried. I guess that’s the danger with a vertical rather than a horizontal pile. Then the mediocre books begin to disappear from my mind. I forget their details and their characters. I can’t conjure up a notable scene or moment from them, and then the end of the year rolls around and it’s too late to review them anyway. Once in a great while, however, I’ll bury a book deep down into my pile and it’ll remain in my brain for months on end. Today’s example of this is Sharon G. Flake’s, "The Broken Bike Boy and the Queen of 33rd Street". I read this book so long ago that I’ve no clear-cut memory of the time or season anymore. Yet when I plucked it up just now it was if I’d finished it in its entirety only yesterday. Until this book the only Flake title I’d ever read was the mighty YA, Who Am I Without Him?. "Broken Bike Boy", then, proves that Flake’s talent for switching genres is rivaled only by her strong characterizations.

It’s enough to drive even the most superior member of the royal family bonkers. Queen knows that she’s smart. Her father and her older brothers tell her every single day, and she loves correcting her teacher whenever she has the chance. That the kids in her school don’t immediately recognize her innate superiority would be tolerable if they didn’t all go and actually like nasty old Leroy instead. Leroy stinks and he lies. He says he’s royalty from Africa, and Queen seems to be the only kid in her class that can see through his lies. Yet somehow this nasty boy has managed to charm everybody. Her teacher. Her parents. Her classmates. Everyone! But Queen’s attempts to get at the truth behind Leroy’s past teaches her a thing or two about what it truly means to be royal and, more importantly, a good person in this life.

At first when I was reading this book, I was … well, basically I read this book like a kid would. I really did NOT like silly stuck-up Queen and I was feeling more than a little mad at Ms. Flake for forcing her upon me. I mean, this is a gal doted upon by her father and all her brothers. When one of them sends her a present she recounts how, "Then like always, he told me how much he loved me. Right after that I called my other brothers, to see what they would send me." ARG! Tell me that doesn’t make you feel just a little crazy. Spoiled kids make for frustrating if intense reading. I’m ashamed to say that I was probably halfway through the book before it occurred to me that maybe you weren’t supposed to like Queen. Maybe that was kind of the point. I’ve been so used to reading characters like Ida B from the novel of the same name that I had difficulty recognizing when I was supposed to be annoyed by my protagonist. Kudos to Ms. Flake then. It takes guts to make an unlikable hero. Guts and talent.

Pity about the end, really. Chapter 26 goes way too fast and ends the book with an abruptness that takes your breath away. Spoiler alert for those of you who’d rather not know the end. First of all, the villains are punks with pink hair. It’s so retro it almost works. But then the action sequence starts and the herky-jerky writing throws everything off. For some reason, the style that serves the rest of the book so well goes wayward and odd here. Sentences are short and don’t connect to one another in a pleasing fashion. Then the next thing you know you’re at the end of the book and it’s all happened so quickly that you don’t know if you’re coming or going.

Be all that as it may be, I’m a fan. The book sticks with you. Queen is so infuriating that it’s nothing short of amazing that Flake is capable of making her sympathetic. The feeling of wanting to root for Queen even as you throttle her makes this book a standout in a fairly dull year. Ideal for booktalks, book discussion, and reading aloud in the classroom. Two thumbs up.

Notes On the Cover: I’ve reviewed this book via the Advanced Readers Copy so I’m going by the cover I see online for this title.  As far as I can tell, it’s rather pitch-perfect.  Photographic book jackets are all the rage, but half the time you’re looking at stock photography of inanimate objects, kids lying on the grass, or decapitated girls (feet are very “in” this year).  To see the characters in the book front and center (to say nothing of Queen’s “castle” exactly as I pictured it) is a rare and wonderful thing. 

Tiddlings

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  • Fun Fact of the Day:  Guess who has just come out in support of Junie B? None other than SPOGG (The Society for the Promotion of Good Grammar, to you). I’m just pleased as punch that there even IS an entity named SPOGG out there. Anyone play the game Beyond Balderdash where you have to make up names for acronyms?  If I were to name SPOGG I might call it the Social Philanthropic Order of the Gentle Grammarians.  But that’s me.  Here’s their statement on Junie B: "For the record, SPOGG is a huge fan of Junie B. Jones. Parents who refuse to read it because of the grammar are missing serious hilarity, as well as the opportunity to point out the errors and talk about language with their kids. Kids would much rather you correct a book character’s grammar than their own, so it’s actually a terrific teaching opportunity." Jolly good show.  I wouldn’t argue with them either.  It is wise to never debate an entity that rhymes with the word "hog".

  • Finally, I was trying to reference an obscure foreign children’s film from Europe as seen on that old Nickelodeon show Pinwheel and I found a very useful listing on Wikipedia.  To my very great surprise, Pinwheel (a show that was unfairly labeled the poor man’s Sesame Street) contained multiple foreign animated shorts that were based on works of children’s fiction.  There was King Rollo, based on a David McKee character.  The French short Emily (called Emilie in France) was based on books by the French children’s book author Domitille de Pressense.  And apparently Simon the Land of Chalk Drawings wasn’t the Harold and the Purple Crayon rip-off I’d always thought it was.  It was based on books as well.  Somehow my brain has cancelled out the existence of West Germany 1974 World Cup mascots Tip and Tap, though.  If you are uncertain as to whether or not you ever saw Pinwheel as a child (and it  did require having cable in the early 1980s) perhaps this will jog your memory. 

Hot Men of Children’s Literature, Part 41 in a Series

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Today’s fellow wins the Most Nominated Award of this series.  I get the usual requests from fans, publishers, editors, agents, partners, and wives to have their fellers featured as a Hot Man.  Some of these I accept and some of these I pass on according to my own peculiar whims and fancies.  Today’s HMOCL is notable if only because of the order in which I received some of his nomations.  They were, in this order…

1. From his fans

2. From his wife

3. From more of his fans

You’d think I’d have caved right there and then, but I’m picky about my choices.  If I feel I’m getting railroaded into including a fellow, I get stubborn.  "Who are they to tell me when someone is hot?  I will make that choice when and IF I choose to do so!  Harumph!"  But then this guy came in to speak to a couple groups of kids about his book series and… well, fine.  He’s a former stand-up comedian, the kids love him, and his books are fun.  So it is, with quite a lot of build-up, that I include the one… the only…


MICHAEL BUCKLEY


You might ask, "Betsy?  Why did you just choose a picture of Mr. Buckley taken when he was submitting columns to The Idiot Magazine?  The dude has plenty o’ pics on his website, after all."

Good question.  I like this picture the best, though.  For one thing, I don’t get a chance to include many teeny tiny black and white photos of my fellers.  So there’s that.  Also, I think this one shows off the man’s personality better than that colorized contraption currently up on his site.

Michael Buckley is the creator of The Sisters Grimm series.  Two sisters become detectives in a town where fairy tale characters are real as real and, let’s face it, none too fond of the Grimm family.  I’ve only read the first book in the series, but when Mr. Buckley came to speak at the Donnell Library we were amazed to see that not a single copy of any of his books were available for his newly converted fans when they looked for them.  Each one had already been checked out.  He’s a popular guy, that Mr. Buckley, and a worthy addition to our series.

The Catch-Up Round-Up

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In which we find our hero spending her waking hours trolling about the web hither thither in search of all the news she previously missed.

  • We begin today with a stunner of a piece of news.  One of the shocks I encountered upon starting a children’s librarian blog was the sheer lack of companionship.  You want to know how many New York public librarians who specialize in kidlit have blogs that they are willing to share and promote?  Two.  Myself and my co-worker Warren.  So it is with great pride and pleasure that I tell you that Warren and I finally have some company.  Laura Lutz, the materials specialist of the Queens Library system, has finally begun her first blog, Pinot and Prose.  I’m well and truly pleased. 

Those of you who attended the Washington D.C. ALA Conference may recognize THIS balloon. 


I remember looking at it and thinking, "Is there a branch of the DC library system called the Queens Branch?  That isn’t actually from the Queens Library System, is it?"  It was.  They’re good at promotion, those Queensites.


  • If you’re anything like me then you know that some publishers are free and easy with their tote bags. So free and easy that I’ve twenty of the doggone things floating around my cluttered little tiny apartment. What to do? Alison Morris to the rescue. The piece From Totebag to Skirt in (Not Quite) No Time is of primary interest to those of the female persuasion, but I’m sure there are some Scottish gents amongst you who wouldn’t mind donning a kilt via the clan Cat in the Hat if you were outfitted with a proper sense of humor. Alison is also asking for comments on what you feel is the loveliest and ugliest tote bags you’ve ere seen.

  • It seems appropriate that Jarrett Krososzka, the man who pointed me towards Bottom Shelf Books in the first place, should be interviewed there this week. Or rather, the members of Punk Farm are interviewed. Jarrett and Minh appear to be a match made in heaven.  There will be a continuation of the interview on Wednesday.

How Many Harry Potter Articles Were Named “I’m Just Wild About Harry”?

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Too many.  And each time someone did one they must have felt damed clever.

Well, I wrote a little something-something the other day on ye olde Motoko Rich article and got back a lovely swath of responses.  Is it just me, or are people taking me to task a lot less since I moved to my new SLJ site?  Back in the day I’d spout off an opinion and people would have zippo problems tearing me a new one if they felt I’d erred one way or another.  Nowandays it’s all civility, sweetness, and light.  Baffling.  I blame the Guess the Color/Guess the Letter comment box validator.

In any case, from that piece I wrote, I got back a great e-mail from an anonymous source whom I shall simply label A Fellow Librarian.  And since she is more eloquent than myself on the subject, I shall simply place her statements below for your enjoyment:

We-Who-Know know that:

1)  Children who read Harry Potter books don’t spend ten minutes adjusting their cushions to find the optimally comfortable position, because they’re too busy READING.

2)  Children who read Harry Potter don’t have to go to the bathroom during library, because they’re too busy READING.  Also, they don’t need to get a drink.  They’re glued to the page. 

3)  Children who read Harry Potter also REREAD Harry Potter.  I am of the school that rereading is a sign of a healthy reader.  (Not the only sign, and some excellent readers never reread.  But nevertheless.)

As these article writers DON’T know these things, and AREN’T librarians, they ought to retire with a blush of shame.

We have a big reading culture at my school–my children come from highly literate families–and because of this, there are always what I call "status books"–thick books that kids want to be seen reading, books that they like to carry around.  So even children who don’t have a prayer of getting through these books demand THE LORD OF THE RINGS and ERAGON and JURASSIC PARK–I’m talking about third graders, here.  And then, once I’ve given them the standard "I’ve always been a pretty good reader, but I couldn’t have read this at your age.  It’s really written for older children, but you can give it a whirl.   If it’s too hard, don’t make up your mind it’s boring–give it another try in a year or two," speech and the book has been checked out, the child needs to use the bathroom.  He needs a drink.  He needs to find the exact perfect spot to place his cushion, often disturbing other readers in the process. He needs to peel back the velcro from his shoes, over and over.  In this way, library period passes.   When he comes back three days later, the bookmark is still in the front of the book.

But with Harry Potter, they don’t go to the bathroom, they don’t need a drink, they leave their classmates and their cushions and  the velcro on their shoes ALONE, because they’re reading.  Their bodies are still, their faces are intent, the pages are turning steadily. Over the weeks, the bookmark moves through the book.  I don’t know what younger children are getting out of these books, because often the books are too hard for them;  they’ve got to be missing half of what’s going on–but they’re getting something; they’re chomping away at ’em and extracting enough marrow to keep them chewing.  So–even though we had to adjust our whole Fiction shelving system to make room for all the multiple copies of J. K. Rowling–I’m a fan.  I’m in favor of the whole thing. 

So there you are.  If you’ve found repetition it is simply because I have mixed together two e-mails.  I am particularly fond of the phrase, "they’re chomping away at ’em and extracting enough marrow to keep them chewing."  My thanks.

Review of the Day: The Wall (Part One)

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The Wall: Growing Up Behind the Iron Curtain by Peter Sis.  Frances Foster Books (an imprint of Farrar, Straus and Giroux). $18.00.

Totalitarian regimes make for good children’s books.  They just do.  What could be more inherently exciting plot-wise than a world in which you never know who to trust?  Where children report parents to the police and freedom and creativity are stifled under the boots of oppressors?  That makes for good copy.  This year alone we’ve the Cultural Revolution book, “The Revolution Is Not a Dinner Party” by Ying Chang Compestine and the much discussed Peter Sis title, “The Wall: Growing Up Behind the Iron Curtain.”  “The Wall” brings together your standard gorgeous Peter Sis imagery with content that is sure to cause debate and interest.  Though it’s not a book I would necessarily site as a personal favorite and that I have a couple issues with, I appreciate that Sis has created something worth discussing with kids, teens, and adults alike.

He was born at the very beginning of The Cold War in Czechoslovakia.  A kid with a penchant for drawing, right from the start, we watch as the growth of young Sis is paralleled with the rise of fear in his nation.  Peter draws at home and at school and alongside this story we read of the compulsory and discouraged actions both required and prohibited by the government.  The drawn sections are broken up by journal entries Sis wrote at the time, reflecting his beliefs and dreams.  With the late 1960s, Sis was entranced by Western influences, a dangerous thing at the time.  Near the end, Sis dreams of flying away above it all with wings made out of his art.  His escape is cemented by the fall of the Berlin wall in 1989 and an Afterword explains how he left and what Prague is like now.

This is certainly an earnest book.  Not humorless, but certainly gung ho in its love of all things American.  It’s difficult to criticize a book on that basis since what Sis has gone through is unlike anything I could understand or appreciate.  The book feels like a cathartic release but it lacks distance.  There’s a danger of the author being almost too close to his material.  Compare “The Wall” to “Persepolis” and you see the difference.  The content is similar but the approach varies wildly.  Satrapi is part of the story and, at the same time, removed.  She doesn’t simplify the story into strict terms, but instead allows the audience to draw their own conclusions based on the information she presents to you.  I just don’t feel that Sis has done that here.  He tells you what to think of the subject matter and when to think it.  For example, without batting an eye he suggests that Europe is said to contain, “Truth. Integrity. Honor. Liberty. Virtue,” etc. while on the East side of the Berlin Wall there is only, “Envy. Stupidity. Lies,” and so forth.  He has every right to do so, particularly when you consider that this may be an image of what the young Sis believed lay in the West rather than what was really there.  Unfortunately, as it currently stands, the image suggests that the readership not draw their own conclusions and accept the “Virtue” on top of Western Europe and the “Envy” on top of the Eastern half. Even the oppressors are featured with pig noses rather than looking like average everyday joes.  How much more interesting it might have been to make the bad guys as human as the good guys. How much more interesting if, like Satrapi, he’d been able to take that one baby step backwards and not tell us what to believe.

Audience has never bothered Peter Sis, so I doubt we should let it bother us either.  To my mind, this book is ideal for high school students.  You can teach and teach the Cold War to them all day, but unless they get a little primary source material presented in an interesting fashion, who knows how much information they’re actually going to take in?  Kids might like this book, but they probably won’t be able to understand the journal passages.  I appreciated that Sis did find a way to make the book kid-friendly, though.  At the bottom of each page are sections that can be read to kids and that make sense of young Peter’s life.  It’s only when you read the captions that pop up on the sides of these pictures that you understand the background behind such innocuous statements as, “He didn’t question what he was being told.”

The journal passages were especially interesting to me.  I liked the photographs of young Sis (particularly the hunky mop top with the raised eyebrow) and the glimpses of his art surrounding these passages.  It was particularly interesting that Sis’ professor at the Academy of Applied Arts was Adolf Hoffmeister who wrote “Brundibar”.  I wonder now how Sis felt about the Tony Kushner/Maurice Sendak picture book version of that tale.  The information and details found in these journals just about make up for the lack of a Bibliography in the back.  I suppose that since this is a first-hand account, Sis didn’t need to scout out kid-friendly sources to give some context to his lesson.  Still, that means that we’re being told what to think about these events without a secondary source of any sort.  It would be nice if kids were able to learn more about these times on their own, say, with a list of useful websites or books on the subject.  I’ve been discussing whether or not Bibliographies are necessary in picture books.  Maybe not always, but if I’m going to recommend this book to teens as well as kids as a bit of non-fiction (and the Dewey call number is 943.704092, after all) then I’m going to want some secondary sources.

(CONTINUED IN PART TWO)