'Iris and the Tiger' by Leanne Hall

Received from the Publisher 

 From the BLURB:

Twelve-year-old Iris has been sent to Spain on a mission: to make sure her elderly and unusual aunt, Ursula, leaves her fortune–and her sprawling estate–to Iris’s scheming parents.

But from the moment Iris arrives at Bosque de Nubes, she realises something isn’t quite right. There is an odd feeling around the house, where time moves slowly and Iris’s eyes play tricks on her. While outside, in the wild and untamed forest, a mysterious animal moves through the shadows.

Just what is Aunt Ursula hiding?

But when Iris discovers a painting named Iris and the Tiger, she sets out to uncover the animal’s real identity–putting her life in terrible danger.

‘Iris and the Tiger’ is the new novel from Australian author Leanne Hall, a magnificent middle-grade magical-realism marvel.

Let me begin my review of Hall’s ‘Iris and the Tiger’ by quoting another book. ‘It’s the things you read at the age you are now which stick. Books crow-bar the world open for you.’ Said to a 12-year-old girl on her birthday, in Katherine Rundell’s beautiful novel, ‘Rooftoppers’.

I love that quote, and the epitome of it is surely in Leanne Hall’s ‘Iris and the Tiger’ which, though labeled as Young Adult, is really a little bit closer to this marvelous readership called Middle Grade (8-12 years, generally). Because I love middle grade literature, and I’m excited to see it grow in Australia where it’s often ignored (I use the example that many State Premier’s Literary Awards don’t recognise children’s literature as a separate category, and often lump it with YA or overlook it completely). But I see nurturing this middle grade readership in Australia as incredibly important, and intrinsically linked to the #LoveOzYA campaign in many ways – this idea that children who grow up reading Australian kids’ books will become teenagers who read Aussie YA, and then adults who read Australian literature.

In recent years, the creation of The Readings Children’s Book Prize (celebrating works of published fiction, written for children aged 5–12) has been an incredible step in recognizing and celebrating this important children’s category – and I’ve written in the past about how brilliant a Prize it is. Particularly that Aussie children and their families now have one more institution to guide them towards quality middle grade fiction – something akin to the prestigious Newbery Medal in America.

I do see middle-grade fiction on the rise in Australia – not just because of the creation of the Readings Children’s Book Prize, but publishers like Hardie Grant have recently adapted their unpublished manuscript prize, the Ampersand, to include MG as well as YA titles. This is an indication and acknowledgment that the more sophisticated YA becomes, likewise the more complex MG has to become to keep up with readers, and to keep enticing readers – and that’s also why I love the fact that one of Australia’s greatest YA daughters in Leanne Hall (of ‘This is Shyness’ and ‘Queen of the Night’ brilliance) has turned her pen to a novel for younger readers with her third book.

‘Iris and the Tiger’ is the tale of 12-year-old Iris – the daughter of greedy parents who send her on a mission to visit her dying Great Aunt Ursula in Spain, purely for the purposes of ascertaining the quality of their inheritance when she croaks. But when Iris arrives she finds herself in the middle of a mystery around a painting titled ‘Iris and the Tiger’, which sets her off on a mission to uncover the painting’s true subject – no matter the danger to her own life.

The magical realism of ‘Iris and the Tiger’ is borne of the surrealism in the paintings that hang at her Aunt Ursual’s Bosque de Nubes. Though eventually the strangeness of the paintings that Iris encounters seem to leak into the real-world and the goings-on of her Aunt’s strange and fantastical life …

A painting hanging nearby flickered. It showed an underwater scene, a rush of water, bubbles and waving water plants. There were two pink legs in the lower right corner. The legs kicked – once, twice, three times – before swimming out of view, beyond the edges of the painting. One second they were there, the next they were gone.
 

‘Iris and the Tiger’ has a little bit of mystery and suspense, and explores the cultural shake-up for Iris who befriends neighbor boy Jordi. But what makes this novel a real jewel in the crown for young readers, is it’s awakening of magical realism. It’s such a beautiful genre, but one that children rarely encounter the nuance of in the middle grade readership, which tends towards contemporary or fantasy but rarely a blend of the two.

She pictured a golden head with golden eyes and pricked ears, somewhere in the house. A striped body prowling down the curling staircase, out the front door and into the forest. Tail flicking as it moved beyond the edge of the painting and out into the real world. The tiger, doing exactly as it pleased, not caring in the slightest about the rules that should have kept it on the canvas.
 

I really commend Leanne Hall for bringing her magical realism touchstone to her first foray into middle grade. In her YA novels – ‘This is Shyness’ and ‘Queen of the Night’ – she adapted that magical realism to an urban setting with fantastically wicked results. In ‘Iris and the Tiger’ I loved that she was using art and surrealism to introduce younger readers to this beautiful genre – it kind of reads like the first time someone sees a Dorothea Tanning painting, and they’re just cracked open with all the possibilities. I also really appreciated Hall’s setting her story in Spain – it’s an ode to the rich Latin American origin and history of fabulism, and I envision young readers growing up to one day read the likes of Isabel Allende, Laura Esquivel, Gabriel García Márquez and so many more, and thinking back on their first encountering the genre with Leanne Hall and ‘Iris and the Tiger’.

This is a very special book, by a vibrant Australian author. I love that younger readers get to experience the writing of Leanne Hall, and I especially love that ‘Iris and the Tiger’ will also surprise and delight older readers alike. I loved this book – from that gorgeous Sandra Eterovic cover-art, to the story within that certainly ‘crow-bars the world open for you.’ 
Just – stunning.

5/5

'Australia to Z' by Armin Greder

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

Juxtaposing words and images, the multi-award-winning author of The Island shines an uncompromising light on what it is to be Australian. I don't normally review picture books - not because I don't read them and love them (I do, I really do!) but because I think to do them justice I'd have to dedicate an entire blog to the reviewing of them (Hey! There's an idea...) and I personally love the book blogs in which actual children review picture books (and I'll admit, their opinions hold more weight than mine!)  But I simply have to rave about Armin Greder's 2016 picture-alphabet book, 'Australia to Z'.  Look, all picture books are art books as far as I'm concerned. But Greder's especially feels sharp and subversive - and a perfect example of how children's picture books especially, can say so much with so little.  In Greder's alphabet book, A is for 'Aborigine', 'Boat People' is for B 'Rupert Murdoch' stands for R and 'Meat Pies' comes before 'Nationalist' (with a drawing of a man wearing an Australia flag cape ...) Author Libby Gleeson perfectly summarises what this Alphabet Book is really all about, and how it's for everyone: "... Armin Greder has cast his critical eye on us and our symbols." Indeed he has - the good, the bad and the downright ugly (aforementioned 'Nationalist' and 'Rupert')  This book says a lot with so little - flipping through the pages and acknowledging the chosen alphabet symbols is sometimes uncomfortable for Greder's scathing accuracy - P is for Pokies - but there's beauty alongside the brutal, and Greder's underlying message is a powerful one worthy of applause.  'Australia to Z' is probably going to be my favourite picture book of 2016. I expect to see it winning awards in the coming months, as a celebrated picture book for the young and old - indeed, an important book for all of us to read and listen to its powerful message.

5/5

'Soon' by Morris Gleitzman

Received from the Publisher

From the BLURB:

I hoped the Nazis would be defeated.

And they were.

I hoped the war would be over.

And it was.

I hoped we would be safe.

But we aren't.

Soon continues the incredibly moving story of Felix, a Jewish boy still struggling to survive in the wake of the liberation of Poland after the end of World War Two.

‘Soon’ is the surprise (at least it was to me!) fifth book in Australian author Morris Gleitzman’s incredible ‘Once’ series of books for younger readers … though, as Gleitzman says in a letter to readers at the end, he prefers to think of these as a ‘family of books’ rather than a series, because they can be read out of order or stand-alone.

When we left young Felix in fourth book ‘After’ (way back in 2012) World War Two was drawing to a close. Our young Jewish protagonist had lost much to this war and the Nazi’s – his mother and father, dear friend and faithful companion Zelda and too many acquaintances along the way. When we meet up with Felix and his protector, Gabriek, again in ‘Soon’ the war is indeed over … but danger still looms for Poland.

I’m crazy about this series. I recommend it to everyone I know – young, old, teachers and reluctant readers – Morris Gleitzman’s ‘Once’ series is among this prolific author’s best work, which is really saying something when many of his books have been turned into stage plays and won countless prestigious awards. I know that all the primary school teachers in my family and friendship group (and there are a lot of them!) are particularly grateful to this series, for allowing them to tackle these incredibly difficult subjects in the classroom in a way that kids can both understand, be deeply affected by and still utterly consumed by the story.

Through Gleitzman’s books, these teachers have broached the subject of war, Holocaust, death, persecution and prejudice with very young children for whom this is the first they’re finding out how awful the world can be, and has been in humanity’s dark past. In all my dealings with youth literature, I find that I live by one rule above all others, which Morris Gleitzman said at Melbourne Writers Festival 2012 – “If it’s in the world, it’s for them.”

Because it’s important that kids know these stories, no matter how awful and tragic. I visited Japan last year, and when I went to the Hiroshima Peace Memorial Museum I found this amazing bookshop that sold picture books, graphic novels and chapter books for all ages, across many languages, aimed at children on the topics of World War Two and the atomic bombings of Hiroshima and Nagasaki in particular. Because children, even very young children, have to know these stories so that future generation don’t repeat mistakes of the past.

And that’s really what ‘Soon’ is about. The Soviet Red Army pushed out Nazi German forces from occupied Poland, and readers find Felix and Gabriek at the beginning of Soviet communist dominance at the end of the World War Two, over what had become the Polish People's Republic. Gleitzman is glimpsing the periods of social unrest in the country that was trying to heal the scars of war – and Felix starts to comprehend how nothing takes so long to heal as the horrors of war.

Readers have witnessed the traumas that shaped Felix into the strong, kind man of ‘Now’, and in ‘Soon’ we’re still witnessing that transformation unfold. For Felix in this book, it’s really a push-pull of doing the right thing and still struggling to survive.

‘You want to change the world,’ says Gabriek. ‘That’s natural at your age. But only dreamers try to change things when the world’s in this state. Sensible people know it’s as much as we can do to look after ourselves.’ 

I don’t argue. 

I know how lucky we are, surviving this long. How lucky I am to have Gabriek’s protection. 

‘How do you spot a sensible person?’ says Gabriek. 

I sigh. Gabriek says this at least once a day. 

‘They’re alive,’ says Gabriek. 

‘Sensible people stay alive because they don’t get involved in other people’s business and they don’t take risks.’

And there is a lot of violence in this book - don't be fooled that just because the war is over, this is going to be any less a harrowing story. One event in particular happens concerning a woman, so teachers/parents out there may want to read this book so they can have conversations with children afterwards about what happened. I don't think that means children shouldn't read this book - and I'm not advising that "gatekeepers" keep it away from kids, not at all - it absolutely has place in the story because it is speaking to a very true history of war (past and present, sadly). 

This book is Felix coming to the realisation of how wars get started in the first place, when good people who know better stand by and do nothing in the face of other’s suffering. And that’s such a big truth that Morris Gleitzman is presenting to young readers in the tender, beautiful ‘Soon’ that fits so perfectly into this family of books.

5/5 

‘Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars’ by Martine Murray

Received from the Publisher 

From the BLURB:

Molly has a strange life. Her mama collects herbs at dawn and makes potions, her father and brothers have gone away, and her house feels like a gypsy caravan.

Molly doesn’t want to know anything about herbs and potions. She wishes she could be more like her best friend, Ellen, who has a normal family and a normal house. But she is also secretly interested in Pim, who is inquisitive and odd and a little bit frightening.

When Molly’s mama makes a potion that has a wild and shocking effect, Molly and Pim look for a way to make things right, and Molly discovers the magic and value of her own unusual life.

‘Molly and Pim and the Millions of Stars’ is the new middle-grade/juvenile fiction novel from Australian author Martine Murray.

Something really interesting happened this year, with Hardie Grant Egmont’s Ampersand Project (which seeks out new voices in youth literature) – they opened the prize up to more than just Young Adult manuscripts, but also middle-grade (books for 8 to 12-year-olds).

I think that’s really interesting because for a while there, Australia had high-quality children’s picture books, great junior fiction (for 5+, think Sally Rippin and Anh Do!) and of course our young adult scene is out of this world (14-18, roughly) but in the past we had less Australian middle-grade on offer, and had to rely on US and UK authors to fill the gap (I’m thinking of ‘Wonder’ by RJ Palacio, everything by Rebecca Stead and Hilary McKay).

But in the last five years or so, I’ve seen the tides turning – Ampersand’s inclusion of middle-grade manuscripts is yet another example of the Oz Publishing scene recognising the need for more Australian voices writing to this age group. Equally amazing has been the establishment of The Readings Children’s Book Prize, awarding stellar emerging authors who have been writing for this readership.

So – with all that in mind allow me to celebrate this gorgeous and wondrous book from Martine Murray, which is a real gift for the middle-grade readership.

This novel is filled with magical realism and whimsy, while still having its feet just firmly enough on the ground. It’s a story about friendship – and about the curious incident that sees Molly’s mother turning herself (accidentally!) into a tree, and the repercussions that follows …

Friendship is a big part of the novel – Molly is friends with Ellen and Pim Wilder, the latter of whom is a boy “always worth watching” who offers up the strangest sorts of facts about the natural world and outer-space;

Molly was secretly fascinated by Pim Wilder. He didn’t move with the pack. He wasn’t drawn by the cool talk and the latest fads. And this made him interesting, and a little intimidating too. Ellen was afraid of him. But Ellen was easily afraid. She would never walk in the woods on her own or rescue a spider from the bath. If Molly told Ellen about her mama’s herbs and potions, Ellen might even find this too strange and scary.

I loved the fact that Molly is grounded with these very real problems in her life, having to be very careful about the sides of herself she shows to the rest of the world, and being drawn to a new friend who sparks her sense of wonder and adventure … and at the same time, HER MOTHER IS A TREE! I think young readers will be at once tickled with the whole concept, and very connected to the complex character of Molly, her friendship woes and identity crisis.

There are sweet little illustrations throughout the book, drawn by Martine Murray who also did the cover illustration.  They are like little treasures between the pages, and a real delight in a book that’s already choc-full of them in story!

Here is a middle-grade novel that sees beauty and magic in the environment around us, and celebrates seeds of friendship which grow deep roots. I loved this charming and whimsical novel, and young readers will too!

5/5

'Loyal Creatures' by Morris Gletizman

Received from the Publisher

From the BLURB:

Like many of his mates from the bush, Frank Ballantyne is keen to join the grand adventure and do his bit. Specially as a chest full of medals might impress the currently unimpressed parents of his childhood sweetheart. So Frank ups his age and volunteers with his horse Daisy ... and his dad.

In the deserts of Egypt and Palestine he experiences all the adventure he ever wanted, and a few things he wasn't expecting. Heartbreak, love and the chance to make the most important choice of his life.

From Gallipoli to the famous charge at Beersheba, through to the end of the war and its unforgettable aftermath, Frank's story grows out of some key moments in Australia's history.

During WWI nearly 150,000 horses were transported from Australia and conscripted to the army – majority of their owners joined the Lighthorsemen, and were sent to the Middle Eastern theatre.

When the war ended in 1918 some of the 150,000 horses had survived.

But only one would be sent home.

‘Loyal Creatures’ is the new novel from children’s author Morris Gleitzman.

I am a huge fan of the famous Australian author, but even this book surpassed my expectations and is most certainly a favourite of 2014. Even more so since last week I had the absolute pleasure of attending a performance of the book’s first incarnation – as a stage play – in an event hosted by Penguin Teacher’s Academy and the Centre for Youth Literature at the State Library. Actor Paul-William Mawhinney was the protagonist in the powerful one-person show of ‘Loyal Creatures’, playing 16-year-old Frank Ballantyne – and the performance added new dimensions to the book for me and wrung new emotions from the page.

In 2012, the National Theatre of London was preparing to bring the stage production ‘War Horse’ to Australia. To bring an Australian perspective to the play, adapted from Michael Morpurgo's 1982 children's novel of the same name, they approached renowned Australian children’s author Morris Gleitzman. In 2005 Gleitzman had released the first children’s book in a four-part series called ‘Once’, set in 1942 about a Jewish boy called Felix who is searching for his lost parents. The final book ‘After’ was released in 2o11, and was the end to an emotionally draining, heartbreaking but daring series that explored the Holocaust in a most important way for children – and Michael Morpurgo obviously knew Gleitzman was in a good position to tell a new war story, also for children. Thus ‘Loyal Creatures’ the stage play was written.

Available from Penguin Teachers is the entire script of the ‘Loyal Creatures’ play, which includes a brief note from the author explaining why he then wanted to adapt it into a novel; “Writing the novel gave me the opportunity to further develop Frank and Daisy’s story, add extra characters and include incidents and details that there hadn’t been room for in the play.”

I am so grateful that Gleitzman decided to create play and novel. Both are remarkable in their own right – emotionally wrenching and telling an aspect of WWI history that is almost entirely unknown. Indeed, Morris Gleitzman only stumbled across the information about 150,000 horses sent to war, and the one coming back, during his research. And I can understand why so little is known about this aspect of the war – it reveals the army’s bureaucratic cruelty and goes against the most celebrated ANZAC legend. It instead is a subversive story about the cruelty of man and the sheer pointlessness of war … while also celebrating humankind’s connection to the animal kingdom, and perhaps what that reveals in our own capacity for kindness (when we allow it).

Nineteen fourteen. 

War. 

Did I want to go? 

Course I did. 

Who wouldn't want to choof off to distant exotic places, give a pack of mongrel bullies what for and have the sort of experiences you just didn't get in the Cudgegong district. 

When I told Dad I wanted to go, he tried to wallop me round the head with a canvas bucket. 

Not too hard, I was bigger than him. But I was still surprised. Hitting people with buckets wasn't Dad's style. Plus, since Mum died, me and Dad were a team. Mates. You didn't go round whacking your mates in the head with work utensils. 

Something was going on. 

Dad glared at me. 'You and me'll be first in the trenches,' he said, 'if Germany invades New South Wales. Till then we'll stay out of other dopey idiots' wars.' 

I squinted up at the blokes riding past. They didn't look that dopey to me.

‘Loyal Creatures’ is the story of Frank and his father who both sign up for the war and bring their horses – Jimmy and Daisy – with them. But neither can anticipate that a war which is meant to be over by Christmas will see 416,809 men enlisted, of which over 60,000 will be killed and 156,000 wounded, gassed, or taken prisoner.

But it’s the story of Frank and Daisy that dominates, as both man and beast navigate this God forsaken war the best they can. Far from home, Daisy is a constant and welcome reminder of home, of what Frank is fighting to return back to – they become true comrades, and in the play Frank is governed by his father’s words of wisdom:  

If a horse does the right thing by you, he reckoned, you do the right thing by them. 

‘Loyal Creatures’, the novel and the play are truly remarkable texts. Based on a true, saddening story, Gleitzman imbues this long forgotten historical factoid with warmth and humour, madness and human weakness. He will make you look at war differently, critically, not least by illustrating man’s capacity for kindness alongside the senselessness of war and violence.

5/5  

'Binny for Short' by Hilary McKay

From the BLURB:

When she was eight, Binny’s life was perfect: She had her father’s wonderful stories and Max, the best dog ever. But after her father’s sudden death, money is tight, and Aunty Violet decides to give Max away—he is just too big for their cramped new life. Binny knows she can’t get her dad back, but she never stops missing Max, or trying to find him. Then, when she’s eleven, everything changes again.

Aunty Violet has died, and left Binny and her family an old house in a seaside town. Binny is faced with a new crush, a new frenemy, and…a ghost? It seems Aunty Violet may not have completely departed. It’s odd being haunted by her aunt, but there is also the warmth of a busy and loving mother, a musical older sister, and a hilarious little brother, who is busy with his experiments. And his wetsuit. And his chickens.

It’s all about before and after for Belinda (Binny);

Before Max, and after Max. 
Before Dad Died and After Dad Died. 
Before Aunty Violet Died and After Aunty Violet Died. 

Because there are lots of Befores and Afters in Binny’s life . . .

Before Dad Died, he gifted Binny the perfect puppy, Max, just like a dog she saw in a book once. She loved Max terribly, and he was the best dog. But then dad died, and the family had to move; Binny, her mum, older sister Clemency ‘Clem’ and little brother, James. They moved two times after dad died, and Max didn’t fit into any of their new places – so he went to live with Granny. But then Aunty Violet gave him away, said he was too much trouble for Granny and Binny hated Violet ever since.

But it was After Aunty Violet Died that they inherited her house by the seaside and finally started a proper new life since dad died.

At first, Binny was reluctant to settle into this old house where Aunty Violet’s ghost still lived. But Clem and James settled in right away – Clem when she found her friend Kate, who works at a local cafe, and James when he pulls an old pink wetsuit out of the bin and discovers his love for chickens.

But Binny doesn’t really start settling in until Gareth arrives. He lives in a holiday house next door, and from the first time their eyes lock it’s war for Binny and Gareth. 

Binny swiftly abandoned all her earlier peaceful plans.Battle, then. They would be enemies. They were enemies. No use to consider anything else. She had no problem with that. After all, she had not had a good, tough enemy for months. Not since the last one died.

‘Binny for Short’ is the middle grade book by Hilary McKay. I read the UK version (unillustrated, though the US edition includes drawings by Micah Player).

I absolutely, thoroughly and unabashedly adored this book, and was absolutely delighted to learn that this is just the first book McKay intends for young Binny.

We first meet Binny at age 8, when she is gifted Max the puppy and her father dies. This marks the beginning of the first big shift in Binny’s life, and while she has fond memories of her father and imagines she was very sad after he died (though she can’t remember being as sombre as Clem or throwing tantrums like James did) she more sharply remembers how sad and angry she was when Max was taken away from her. Because even after dad died, Binny had Max and he was the best dog. But then they had to move to a small house Max couldn’t fit in, so they gave him to gran to look after. But then Binny learns that her Aunt Violet decided gran couldn’t look after Max, so she took it upon herself to rehome him with a new family.

When Binny learns to this she is distraught, and so begins many years of missing and trying to look for Max, and her hatred of Aunt Violet (which she lets her know about!). 

Then Aunty Violet dies and leaves her old Cornwall house for Binny (specifically) and her family to move into. Binny wants to refuse any ‘gifts’ from Aunt Violet (especially one she imagines to be haunted by Violet’s vengeful ghost) but the rest of her family look forward to a bit of stability since dad died, and happily move into the house.

And it’s here, when Binny is eleven-years-old, that the story really kicks off. She develops her first crush on a local boat-owner who takes tourists out to view the seals. She finds a new enemy in next-door neighbour boy, Gareth. Clemency settles back into her music, and mum gets a job at the local old people’s home, and she brings James along to charm the little old ladies and admire their chickens. 

Interspersed with Binny and her family’s settling into Cornwall are scenes of Binny and Gareth, somewhere in the very near future, stuck out in high-tide in the middle of a Cornwall beach. A moment that may move them from enemies to proper friends, if they survive . . . 

The book is really a beautifully, third-person rambling narrative about one family’s up’s and down’s in the year their lives start to settle but grief and change occasionally creep in to unsettle things. And for Binny, the constant memories of Max are her trigger to larger sadness.

There’s a lot of beauty and laughter in this novel too, like little brother James who tries to break his high-peeing record on the back fence and requires a behavioural list to abide by; 

They had to keep making new rules for James. 

No taking money from the old ladies. 

No hunting in bins. 

No taking off that wetsuit in shops to show people you are a boy. 

No more stealing seeds from the supermarket. 

In fact no more stealing anything from the supermarket. 

No crabs in your bedroom. Or Binny’s bedroom. 

No tormenting the neighbours.  

No matches. 

No unsupervised hotness of any kind. 

I absolutely loved this family and Binny – she’s a charming character trying to fit into her own skin. She’s attempting to come to grips with a loss that feels like it could be rectified, her burgeoning love for an unkind teenage boy and this fiery need she has to antagonise her next-door-neighbour. She’s quite a character, and I can’t wait to read more of her adventures. ‘Binny for Short’ is actually one of my favourite novels to come out of 2013.

5/5 

'Fortunately, the Milk . . .' by Neil Gaiman, illustrated by Chris Riddell

Received from the Publisher

From the BLURB:

You know what it’s like when your mum goes away on a business trip and Dad’s in charge. She leaves a really, really long list of what he’s got to do. And the most important thing is DON’T FORGET TO GET THE MILK. Unfortunately, Dad forgets. So the next morning, before breakfast, he has to go to the corner shop, and this is the story of why it takes him a very, very long time to get back.

Featuring: Professor Steg (a time-travelling dinosaur), some green globby things, the Queen of the Pirates, the famed jewel that is the Eye of Splod, some wumpires, and a perfectly normal but very important carton of milk.

Only Neil Gaiman could delight two polar-opposite readerships by releasing one of the most buzzed-about adult books of the year (‘The Ocean at the End of the Lane’ – so good I still can’t bring myself to write a review because THERE ARE NO WORDS!) and then a few months later a lavishly wonderful children’s book. It’s not surprising, really, because Neil Gaiman wrote both ‘American Gods’ and ‘Coraline’ – cementing himself as a fine storyteller for all ages.

 

‘Fortunately, the Milk. . . ’ being Gaiman’s children’s foray, his Bloomsbury publishers know they can be a bit more blunt and honest with their younger readers. Hence this very apt author billing;

The book is about a father left in charge of his two children when their mum goes off to a conference. But the first disaster strikes at breakfast-time, when they run out of milk. So it’s up to dad to trot down to the corner store for a refill . . . but he takes ages and ages, and it’s only upon his return that the children discover what took him so long. 

The whole book is a bit tongue-in-cheek, and there’s something here for the intended 8-12 readership, as well as the parents for whom this will be bedtime reading. For the kids there are; Dwarves, wumpires, a stegosaurus, aliens, pirates, ponies, a volcano god . . . then for the adult readers there are some references to The Usual Suspects, a little Doctor Who-esque time travel conundrum and some making fun of Twilight. 

It’s all a bit brilliant really. Even more so because Chris Riddell’s illustrations have made the dad look like Neil Gaiman himself – which makes me think back on an old blog post Gaiman wrote about where he gets his ideas from. 

Interestingly, there are two versions of Gaiman’s latest children’s book (for reasons not even he can explain). There’s the US and Canada book illustrated by Skottie Young – this version does not include a Neil-Father lookalike, and is perhaps the slightly more conventional children’s book. Chris Riddell’s illustrated book for Australia and UK includes the ellipsis in the title ‘. . . ’ and the shiniest cover you ever did see. There’s also some symmetry in Riddell lending his drawings to ‘Fortunately’, because Riddell also illustrated the anniversary edition of ‘Coraline’.  

Either way, Gaiman’s extravagant story is a lot of fun with moments of quiet brilliance. I don’t know about anyone else, but when I read the blurb for ‘Fortunately, the Milk. . . ’ about a father who takes a jolly good time to get home to his children with their promised milk, I instantly thought of the old cliché prevalent in many stories; that a father went to buy a packet of cigarettes one morning and never came home. The basis being that father’s don’t really hold up so well in many stories; so I love that Gaiman took that old cliché and made a minor hero of this father and detailed his grand adventures to get home to his kids. 
Oh! And never forget, “where there is milk, there is hope.” 

5/5 

'Extra Time' by Morris Gleitzman - an interview and a review

 

Received from the Publisher

From the BLURB:

When 13-year-old Matt is discovered impressing the livestock in an Aussie country town with his remarkable soccer skills, he's offered the chance of a lifetime – a try-out at one of Europe's biggest and most glamorous soccer clubs. His younger sister Bridie goes with him as his manager and tells us their story – warts, goals and all.

The funny and moving story of a sister's love for her brother, and how it survives everything fate throws at it, including the millions of pounds and mountains of pressure at the top of the world's most popular sport.

Matt is the soccer star, and his sister Bridie his manager. Matt doesn’t let a busted leg or bullies interfere in his game, same way that Bridie doesn’t let her asthma stop her from looking out for her big brother. This family knows to stick together, after a tragedy pulled them tight and has their mum always fretting, and Uncle Cliff keeping a watchful eye on things.

Bridie and Matt are due some good luck in their lives … but when it comes their way and dreams come true, both are surprised at the many and varied ways that things aren’t made better.

‘Extra Time’ is the new novel from superb Australian children’s author, Morris Gleitzman.

I was lucky enough to have a phone interview with Mr Gleitzman recently, for an upcoming Kill Your Darlings blog. And in-between asking him some very serious questions about a very important topic, I was also able to fan-girl and throw in some Qs about ‘Extra Time’ and his next book … so this is a review/interview of sorts.

There’s a moment in ‘Extra Time’ when Bridie dreams of her and Matt being suffocated by safety;

I have the bad dream again. 

The one I have a lot. 

Me playing for Australia in a World Cup soccer final. Nil-nil with two minutes to go. I've got the ball. Matt wants me to pass to him. 

But I can’t kick. 

There’s bubble wrap round my legs. And my arms. And my chest. 

Matt’s not much better off. His soccer shirt and shorts are made of cotton wool. Which is growing like fungus. 

It’s over his head and feet now. He’s being smothered in cotton wool. The more I struggle to kick the ball, the tighter the bubble wrap gets.

It’s a prescient dream for the many ways that Matt and Bridie have been made overly cautious in their lives, after a family tragedy … but also revealing of Morris Gleitzman as a successful children’s author, who often writes the sort of tough and admirably daring characters that kids love, and parents would prefer came bubble-wrapped.

‘Extra Time’ is about soccer and realizing dreams are not always as easy you’d imagine them to be. At the back of the book, Gleitzman acknowledges the Premier League families for sharing their experience and friendship. I asked him about their involvement as part of his research, and discovered the level of detail that went into writing ‘Extra Time’;

I was over in the UK last year, doing some research for the book. And though it’s not easy – because it’s quite a closed and self-protected world – I finally was able to meet three families who have boys training in different Premier League clubs in their academy system. And they weren’t able to go on the record with me . . .  because they had a sense from our conversation that I was interested in some of the aspects of this whole process that maybe the official football authorities wouldn’t necessarily want to have broadcast. And you can probably pick up from the book what some of those things are. 

So; it formed the core of my research because I got a lot of information, and not only did they take me along with their family to training matches, but I also had a sense of how aspects affected other areas. The impact it had on their families, how important it was to them. And most importantly, I got the sense that for the boys involved (they ranged in age from about 12 to 16) just what a huge focus in their life it is. 

I learnt, for example, that some families were approached by a big club when their son was four-years-old. Even the notion that kids play organized sport at four, I find that a little bit gobsmacking, but certainly the experts and scouts are trained to be able to spot that one-in-a-thousand sort of ability even in a four-year-old. And the clubs aren’t officially allowed to make any formal deal until the boy’s about nine, but such is the competition now to find the world’s best players very young. Because of course it’s not just a question of getting the best players for your team, it’s also big money. 

This is a gorgeous book (as a Morris Gleitzman books always tends to be); easily 5/5 that kids (sports fanatics and couch potatoes) will love, as will boys and girls (young and old). 

It always happens that after reading the latest Morris Gleitzman book, I’m always desperate for the next one. So I asked Mr Gleitzman about his current work-in-progress, and the bad news is; we’ll have to wait until June 2014. The good news is; ‘Loyal Creatures’ sounds heartbreaking and amazing; 

It’s a book I’m developing from a performance piece I wrote last year. I did some work with the National Theatre in London. I wrote a piece that they’ve been using in some workshops, as part of their ‘Warhorse’ stage production. They approached me because they wanted a piece that would look at some aspect of horses in WWI, from an Australian point of view. And I did some research, and hit upon something that absolutely fascinated me which was to discover that we sent about 150,000 horses over in WWI, basically to Egypt and Palestine in the Australian light horse. Many of them were the personal horses owned by the young men who volunteered. And of those, only one horse came back. 

Many were sold to the Egyptian army, British army. Many were sold to local horse dealers, but that was very unpopular amongst the troopers because they saw that the horse dealers didn’t treat the horses very well in most cases. And the rest were shot. And the thing that grabbed me, as the ‘story hook’, was that although the army denies this, quite a number of the troopers who had formed an incredibly close bond with their horse over those four years, in many cases were absolutely convinced that they owed their life to their horse. Rather than have the horse shot in the head, in an anonymous way, in an army bureaucratic shooting, they took their individual horses out to the desert, said goodbye, and shot them themselves. My story is called ‘Loyal Creatures’, and it’s about a sixteen-year-old volunteer, and he and his horse go off to war.

Extra Time is now available, and Morris Gleitzman will be appearing at the Melbourne Writers Festival later this month –

be sure to check out his sure-to-be-wonderful sessions!