The end (for now)

There seems to have been very little interest in these reviews recently, so I have decided to end my blog, at least for the moment. Who knows, something may inspire me to start again at some time, but for now . . . .

My Books of the Year 2023

Sometimes more is more 

This has turned out to be a rather mixed year of reading. There have been several high profile and heavily promoted new MG/YA novels that I found rather disappointing. To cheer me along, though, there have been some fine follow-ups to existing, much admired books.These have included: Utterly Dark and The Tides of Time, a truly wonderful conclusion to the latest trilogy from Phillip Reeve; Rebel Fire, exciting sequel to a most original fantasy by Ann Sei Lin; The Case of the Chaos Monster, Patrice Lawrence’s new extension of her brilliant Elemental Detectives; and Podkin and the Singing Spear, yet another enchanting addition to Kieran Larwood’s extended fantasy series. It is always good to have more of the same, when that more is just as outstanding as its predecessors.

The best of the best

All the books I have reviewed this year have been special in some way; if they weren’t I wouldn’t have chosen to write them up. However, the year has included some remarkable highlights amongst new stand-alone titles. And what books these have been! They are some of the most creative, exciting, moving and truly life-enhancing novels I have had the thrill of reading for quite some time.  So here (in no particular order, as they say) are my best of the best from 2023. Most fall broadly into the older MG/younger YA range, apart from those clearly indicated, which are most definitely for older teens. Like all the best ‘children’s’ books, I know lots of adults will enjoy these titles too. I certainly hope many teachers will add them to their repertoire of books to share and recommend in their vital task of promoting reading for pleasure.

 

Two remarkable books made a big impression on me early in the year and my high opinion of them has not wavered one jot since.

The Song Walker

Zillah Bethell’s stunning novel draws on First Nation Australian culture for its references and its beautifully written, multi-layered story, about two girls’ long treck across the outback, is full of resonant meaning. Often moving, it is never heavy. Its narrative, blending the naturalistic and the metaphorical, is nothing short of compulsive. This is children’s fiction of the highest order.

Wild Song

Candy Gourlay’s story of a First Nation American girl and her turbulent relationship with the dominating White Man culture is hard-hitting, disturbing, and deeply moving, although it is ultimately uplifting too. Its harsh implications are equally applicable to the many other instances of aggressive colonialism, which still too often roll on into disrespect of Black lives today. It is as engaging as it is relevant.

 

Pony

R. J. Palacio is, of course, best known for the publishing phenomenon that is Wonder. Her new novel is a very different book, yet here is the same understanding and the same deep humanity that she has always shown in her writing. But it is now expressed with a refinement, a subtlety that is more reflective, more poetic, yet no less rich and perhaps even more affecting. It is essentially the same wonder, but extended beyond the present. (First UK publication 2023)

Foxlight

To say Katya Balen never produces a bad book is an understatement. She somehow manages to pen one ravishingly beautiful, deeply moving novel after another. This new one is certainly no exception. Two sisters leave their home and follow a fox to begin a long and difficult trek through the unknown countryside beyond. This is inscape as well as landscape, both a real journey and a metaphorical one, conjured with this author’s trademark sensitivity and subtlety.

 

Surprisingly perhaps, in view of the difficult subject matter, there are already a number of outstanding children’s books dealing with death and bereavement. However, there is always room for more when they are as imaginatively conceived and wonderfully written as these two.

The Lovely Dark

Matthew Fox’s second outstanding book explores death and the afterlife with thoughtful sensitivity, subtly drawing in resonances with the Greek myth of Orpheus and Eurydice. After protagonist, Ellie, experiences her own death, we are completely hooked into what for her is a continuation of reality, however disorientated. It is a book that asks questions about life and death, but not one that offers any particularly dogmatic answers. Nor is it as morbid as the subject matter suggests, but ultimately comforting and reassuring for its young readers. It is a significant addition to children’s literature.

Finn Jones Was Here

Simon James Green has actually published two amazing books this year, books that really matter. His YA title Boy Like Me is sensitive, entertaining and of huge social importance. However I was bowled over by the skill with which he balances often farcical comedy with truly sensitive insight and positive messaging in his new MG novel. It succeeds in being both joyful and deeply affecting, making his challenging subject matter, a boy’s loss of his dearest friend, brilliantly accessible to young readers. It will help and support many as well as developing empathy in all its readers.

 

There is little that I enjoy more than a good fantasy and this year has brought two exceptional new additions to this genre.

Impossible Creatures

Katherine Rundell adds another joy of a book to her already considerable canon of wonderful (and overall very diverse) fiction for young readers. This one fully deserves the many accolades it has already received and will I am sure go on to win awards aplenty. Here, she uses a range of children’s fantasy tropes to draw us into a story that grows ever richer and more compelling; by turns funny, thrilling, provocative and moving, However, in the end, it is the sheer quality of her writing, both her use of language and her storytelling, that makes this book so exceptional.

Skrimsli

Nicola Davies’ follow-up to her outstanding novel The Song That Sings Us is actually a prequel, so can easily be read first, or even as a stand-alone. It is immersive epic fantasy at its best, the sort that you cannot put down and never want to to end. Her animal protagonists, anthropomorphic in thought, but still convincingly natural, are never sentimentalised and just as involving as the finest human characters. The indictment of circuses, and man’s attempted domination of animals generally, is immensely powerful and the quest for freedom and wildness is intoxicating.

 

Verse novels have become a bit of a thing recently, with very variable degrees of effectiveness. However this year two examples, each for a different age-group, stood out as shining examples of just how potent  a narrative medium this can be.

The Final Year

Although I don’t always follow the crowd, I have to agree with the huge number of opinions that rate Matt Goodfellow’s novel very highly indeed. The elements of his story are often much more poetry than mere ‘verse’ and he captures the challenges, thoughts and feelings of a young boy as he moves through his final year of Primary School with remarkable honesty and understanding, often very movingly. I particularly admire the book’s clever and insightful symbiotic relationship with Davis Almond’s seminal Skellig. (As an important follow-up to this, it is worth noting that the 25th anniversary edition of Skellig, also published this year, is fully illustrated for this first time, with quite superb images by Tom de Freston.)

Crossing the Line

Tia Fisher’s novel has some interesting points of comparison with The Final Year. It is for rather older readers (teens) but the level of poetry is again skilfully wrought and remarkably powerful, whilst still effectively carrying a hugely engaging narrative. The hard-hitting, detailed story, of a boy’s downward slide into disastrous involvement with drugs gangs, is salutary and told with deep understanding, even where there isn’t approval. The whole is a telling masterpiece for our times, resonant with human truth and compassion. 

  

There are three other books for much older readers (teen+) that I Icannot  miss out here. Difficult, challenging reads, often involving bad language, violence and delinquent, even criminal, behaviour, they are great works that have been real highlights of my reading year.

Play

Using the ‘games’ they play as an exploration of the behaviour and relationships of a small group teenage boys from contrasting backgrounds, Luke Palmer’s devastating novel delves deep into the issues of adolescence. He truly understands boys of this age and, like the other writers here, although very much in his own way, he can express their thoughts, feelings and behaviours with powerful authenticity. Told from several perspectives, it is compulsive reading throughout, but it is the novel’s long closing section that lifts it into the realm of truly fine literature.

Treacle Town

Brian Conaghan is a remarkable writer and this is one of his best.The story of a teen boy’s desperate struggle to free himself from the cloying influence of a seriously disadvantaged home neighbourhood is as hard-hitting and grimly realistic as it gets. Using as its locale an area of run-down urban estates near Glasgow, with its added stresses of sectarian Celtic/Rangers ‘tribalism’,  he portrays with real insight a world of youths pulled into drugs, alcohol abuse and gratuitous violence. Yet the story is heart-wrenching as well as gut-wrenching, it is full of warmth and humanity, of the hope of something better, however painfully devastating it is to achieve. 

Runner Hawk

More overtly literary than these others, Michael Egan’s fine novel is replete with potent images and powerful intensity that could belong as much to poetry as to this fiction. These are imaginatively mixed with speculation about potential disturbing developments of current science/technology to provide a remarkably potent exploration of an aspect of adolescence - this time the isolation and dislocation, the feeling of not belonging to the world, that many young people experience. It is as thrilling in its writing as it is chilling in its content.

  

Publisher Barrington Stoke do an amazing job of providing accessible books for dyslexic and other less confident readers, across a range of ages. A surprisingly large number of their titles also prove to be high quality reads for all. There have been quite a few of these this year, including ones by Katya Balen, Hilary McKay, and Lucy Strange. However three are especially memorable.

Ravencave

The death this year of Marcus Sedgwick was a tragic loss; he was one of our very finest writers for young people (and older). So we must be thankful to have this, his last story, published posthumously. Here, with a narrative strongly rooted in place, his economy of language and its terse directness actually enhance the effectiveness of the story being told. He brings setting and characters to life with vivid starkness. He also succeeds in communicating deep feelings with touching and often beautiful simplicity, creating telling images that will live long in the minds of readers, as will his whole legacy of wonderful work.

The Den

Keith Gray is another of the small number of contemporary writers who understand just perfectly how to represent the behaviour, thinking and speech of young teenage boys. His characters, their issues, their behaviours (right or wrong) and, perhaps most importantly, their dialogue are spot on; full of honest emotion and the naive attitudes of youth. These are youngsters in that awkward time of being neither child nor adult, who think they know exactly what’s what, although, as yet, they can’t and don’t. But that does not mean their integrity is one jot the less. This story has an impact and contemporary relevance way out of proportion to its short length. 

The Piano at the Station

This time the issues of a troubled teen girl provide the moving storyline. Helen Rutter’s skilfully crafted novella is not actually anywhere near as soft-centred as either its title or cover image might seem to suggest. Certainly soft is not a word you could use for protagonist, Lacey, at least on the outside. Again an authentic adolescent voice is brilliantly caught and if there is an up-beat ending to her tale, it is also provides a salutary lesson for those facing challenging behaviour from students. The book carries a strong shout-out for the arts in schools, which is brilliant.

Publisher of the Year

My publisher of the year has to be small independent Everything With Words. Of course, not all their books hit the spot with me; they publish a good range of titles. However, recently an amazing number of their new ones have excited and thrilled me. Considering their size this is truly remarkable. I particularly admire the brave way they seek out quality and originality, rather than simply following the most recent writing fads or trying to ride on the back of existing bestsellers. It shows real integrity and fills me with hope for the future of children’s and YA literature. 

Closing note

If interested, all the books I have highlighted here are reviewed in much greater detail earlier on my blog. Although I read very extensively, there will, of course, be other outstanding new books that have slipped under my radar. I hope to catch up with them eventually, 

My heartfelt thank go, as always to all the teachers, librarians, book bloggers and others who do so much to help young people grow with and through books. And of course, to the authors, illustrators and publishers who give us all such wonderful, life-enhancing gifts.

The Rescue of Ravenwood by Natasha Farrant

Cover illustration: David Dean

Safe adventure 

The genre that might loosely be called ‘children’s adventures’ has been a mainstay of children’s fiction for a very long time. Broadly, ‘ordinary’ children, living in the ‘real’ world, undertake exciting exploits way outside those their readers are ever likely to experience. Typically, these fictional children act independently from grown-ups to solve puzzles, thwart dastardly villains and survive dangers, whilst saving their community, family or friends. However, they  still arrive home in time for a cosy tea, or similar, almost always involving favourite food. Such books play an important part in many children’s reading. They allow them to experience vicariously thrilling adventure, alongside fictional friends who can nevertheless feel very real, without ever leaving the safety and comfort of home. (That’s why the ‘back in time for tea’ ending is such an important trope.)

Much the same, but much better!

Now the mantle of earlier writers like Edith Nesbit, Enid Blyton and Malcolm Saville, has been magnificently taken up by Natasha Farrant. However, there are very significant differences between this contemporary author and some of her predecessors. For a start she is a much finer writer than some of them. Her story content is more imaginative and far more thoughtful too. This makes today’s young readers particularly fortunate; they can share all the excitement of ‘children’s adventure’ whilst experiencing wonderful quality writing at the same time. 

This, her latest tittle is an outstanding example. Of course it meets all contemporary sensibilities and avoids sensitivities too, which many of these older books do not.  With ecological awareness thrown in, what more’s to want?

All her earlier books are also well worth exploring.. The many children seeking this type of reading experience will be richly rewarded. 

Crossing the Line by Tia Fisher

Cover art: Andrew Bannecker 

The verse novel can be an amazingly effective, and affecting, literary form in the right hands. And this powerful and deeply insightful example shows that Tia Fisher is most certainly amongst the authors who demonstrate its potential brilliantly.

Like not like 

For me, Crossing the Line immediately threw up comparisons with two other outstanding books I have read this year. It has many important things in common with Matt Goodfellow’s The Final Year, also a verse novel. What these two works of literature have in common is their writer’s ability to craft poems, which are poems, not simply ‘verse’, or even, as I have seen in some alleged verse novels, merely prose broken into short lines. Both authors use their linked sequence of individual poems to express their characters authentic thoughts and feelings with precision. Both catch and hold a moving intensity in a small number of perfectly chosen words and images, laid out meaningfully on the page. At the same time they succeed in crafting an overall narrative that is complex and compelling, capturing tellingly the truth of their protagonist’s life. They communicates straight to the reader with consummate poignancy.

There is a good example quite early on in the Crossing the Line where a poem about the Alton Towers rollercoaster not only brilliantly captures the experience of the ride itself, but also provides graphic expression of protagonist Erik’s feelings when he hears of his mother’s pregnancy by a man he can’t abide. It is only one of many sections that take your breath away with the perfect aptness of image and form. Tia Fisher knows exactly how to say much through little. 

There is further connection too, at least superficially, in that Crossing the Line takes up its protagonist’s life journey roughly where The Final Year ends, at Year 7, the start of Secondary School. However, this does not mean that the two novels immediately follow in terms of reader suitability. Crossing the Line is a hard-hitting novel about a boy’s descent into involvement with drug dealing, eventually ‘county line’ gangs, involving  associated bad language and no little violence. It is deeply disturbing as well as richly rewarding, and probably not for younger readers. 

And it is in this aspect that it reminded me of my second comparison, Brian Conaghan’s equally potent but devastating Treacle Town. In many ways both these books deal with similar subject matter, and with similar unflinching honesty too. However, Treacle Town is very much about escaping from the cloy of a particular urban environment, drug and alcohol abuse and street gang violence. Crossing the Line is a more individual journey. (although sadly, many follow it), more focused on personal circumstances and relationships, as it follows in intimate detail Erik’s troubled and troubling route into terrifying  criminality. If the one book is about pulling out, this one is about getting pulled in.

Dominoes

The minutiae of daily life, and Erik’s turbulent emotional reactions, become important in Crossing the Line.. His life is lived small, and in the minute. Those without future have only the present. There are no consequences in the present. Consequences belong to the future. And for him, of course,  the future does indeed bring consequences. And every nuance of  feeling, every bad decision, as he struggles and fails to deal with heartbreak and hostility, his life collapsing in a domino row, is caught with turbulent veracity in Erik’s own voice. 

In the end we are left with understanding and empathy even though it is without approval. There is a poem near the middle of the narrative when Erik’s squawking baby sister suddenly smiles at him, and for a fleeting moment he feels what it is like to be special to someone. We understand that Erik is not ‘bad’; he has been dealt a hand in life that he has not the resources to play. And so it plays him. He could have been helped .The question, the challenge, the novel poses for all of us is who could have helped him, when and how? The answer does not lie solely with others.

This is a deeply important book in the relevance of its story and a breathtaking one in the skill of its telling.