Breaking Night

Breaking Night: a memoir of forgiveness, survival and my journey from homeless to Harvard
by Liz Murray
Hyperion, 2010. 334 pgs.
Adult Fiction with YA Interest
Hardcover: $24.99

Annotation: When finding food and a place to sleep are top priorities, suddenly school doesn't seem so important.

Summary: Liz Murray had an unorthodox childhood. Her parents were drug addicts who could barely survive till next month's government check, so feeding their two children was an afterthought at best. With her dad in and out of jail and her mother in and out of the psych ward, Liz struggled just to find enough food to survive each day. Her hair was lice-ridden and the stench of her unwashed body and squalid clothing caused the other school children to ridicule her. Needless to say, it didn't make for a pleasant learning experience and so with no one who cared, Liz decided to skip most days, only showing up to take the end of year tests. She managed to pass on to the next grade each year due to her excellent reading skills honed from years of devouring her dad's collection of true crime novels--which he would check out at the library under numerous aliases and never return. Abused by her mother's friends and neglected by her parents, at one point Liz is even carted off to a state run girl's school where she suffered the mean-spirited bullying by some of the other girls. Returning home, Liz finds that nothing has changed. Finally, forced out of her house at fifteen, Liz became homeless, riding the trains all night, sleeping in friends' apartments or random stairwells. Scavaging food and sleeping arrangments was always a challenge, but Liz found a family in other troubled youth and with the help of her friends she managed to survive.

After AIDS claimes her mother, Liz remembers her mother's dream for her to finish high school and so she goes searching. She hears of an alternative high school that just might accept her and after being admitted, resolves to finish all 8 semesters in just 2 years. Still homeless, she lugs her books and other scant belongings along with her and with the help of her makeshift family of friends she studies like a demon, earning top grades and a leadership position in her school. During a special school trip to Boston, she discovers the magic of Harvard and with encouragement from her teacher, decides to take a long shot at a school most students wouldn't dream of, let alone a homeless girl. But even if she's accepted, Liz would never be able to afford college; however, with nudging from her guidance counselor she applies for a hefty New York Times scholarship. The scholarship is based on the answer to one simple question, "What challenges have you had to overcome in life?" and with that Liz begins writing her life story, because every day was a challenge and every night was a misery.

Evaluation: Liz Murray's story is heartwrenching, but she tells it with a compelling voice. Her prose is clear, readable and ultimately uplifting. With a childhood that cannot really be described as such, because Liz did not have the good fortune to actually be a child, she uses her experiences to propel her forward, rather than as a means to justify failure. Although many individuals would be reticent to reveal such personal indelicacies, Liz instead shares her memoir with candor and her words and accomplishments prove immensely inspiring. I had a hard time putting the book down and am grateful for Liz's courage and her resilient spirit. I found the following passage especially thought provoking. Liz writes, "I was always seeing myself through the eyes of adults, my parents, caseworkers, psychiatrists, and teachers. If I saw a failure in their eyes, then I was one. And if I saw someone capable, then I was capable." A beautifully expressed sentiment with a cautionary tale for all adults who work with youth. But what was written for adults will resonate with teens, especially those coming from troubled backgrounds themselves. Without doubt, Breaking Night is a triumph of will and a true light to the world.

Significance: Liz's story demonstrates that with hard work and intense determination, anyone can overcome the challenges their circumstances would appear to dictate. She excelled with help from some dear friends and excellent teachers. She proved that the responsibility for her future rested with her and not with her past. Liz demonstrates yet again that education has real power to change lives. But, perhaps an even greater achievement than Liz's eventual graduation from Harvard was her ability to honestly forgive both of her parents for their addiction and neglect and that is what makes the book an inspiring read for everyone.

Personal Choice: Although a bit long, the title was an immediate draw and I couldn't wait to find out more about Liz's personal triumph.

Awards: Alex Award, 2011

Room

Room
by Emma Donoghue
Little, Brown, and Co., 2010. 321 pgs.
Adult Fiction with YA Interest
Hardcover: $24.99

Annotation: Imprisoned by a madman, Jack and his Ma live in a single 11x11 ft room for years with no hope of escape.

Summary: Jack is turning 5--his favorite number. His mother bakes him a cake like any other good mother would do. However, Jack wants 5 candles on the cake, a simple request, but when you're locked in a single room for 7 years by the hands of a madman, no request is ever simple. Kidnapped at 19, "Ma" has been imprisoned and abused by her kidnapper for long, tortuous years. Her son Jack was born into this very room and having never left, has zero concept of the world outside. Sure they have a small tv, but to preserve his innocence and perhaps his sanity, "Ma" tells Jack that what happens on tv is only make believe and so he never realizes there is a whole world out there that he is being kept from experiencing. His friends are Dora the Explorer from the tv, a long snake made of eggshells and the remote control. Christened "Old Nick" by Jack, their captor unlocks the industrical strength door every evening at 9pm to visit "Ma" and fulfill his filthy lust and every night "Ma" forces Jack into the wardrobe minutes beforehand to keep him safe. "Old Nick" takes away their garbage, grudgingly buys them food and once a week allows them a special Sunday treat, such as grapes or crayons--all things most children take for granted. As he grows, Jack starts asking questions that Ma finds increasingly hard to answer and so she tells him the whole story, but Jack's small mind has trouble taking it all in and grasping the magnitude of the injustice that's been perpetrated. But one night Jack and "Ma" conceive a plan for escape and it all hinges on 5-year-old Jack's ability to play dead.

Evaluation: Told from 5-year-old Jack's perspective, the experience of Jack and his mother takes on a bizarre innocence that only a child could relay. Donoghue does an incredible job at portraying the mind of a child whose view of reality is dysfunctional and distorted. Jack and his mother's approach to life is heartbreakingly simple. They wake up, eat a rationed breakfast, take a bath together, watch 1 show on tv (2 if Jack is lucky--but Ma doesn't want him to rot his brain so tv is kept to a minimum), do Phys Ed--which consists of strength maintaining exercises--eat lunch, play together, color, tell stories, eat dinner, brush their teeth (because for years Ma didn't take care of hers and now they are rotting and she has horrible pains), watch 1 more show on tv, read 1 or all of the 5 books they've been alloted and then go to bed--only to do the same thing the next day and the next and the next. Their only diversion is the small, steel enclosed skylight that gives them their only connection with the outside world. One day Jack spies a plane through the tiny opening, just like on tv, and this highlight keeps him excited for days on end.

Donoghue's Jack is both prodigiously bright and exceptionally naive, making for a endearing character the reader yearns to protect and educate. Jack speaks of "room" and "table", "wall", and "rug" without articles and without a proper sense of perspective. He still breast-feeds at five years and while the concept is a bit repulsive to most of America, it is a symbol of "Ma's" commitment to nurture her child and preserve his innocence, while providing him nourishment. "Ma" is a fierce protector and her character, while a secondary one, demonstrates the will of a mother when faced with tragic odds. She is remarkably resilient, keeping Jack occupied and setting a scheduled routine, doing her best to keep him and herself healthy and trying to provide as normal a childhood as possible in their extreme circumstances.

"Old Nick" is a peripheral character and his evil actions dictate Jack and Ma's life, but he cannot take away their spirit and their love for each other. Donoghue's gift lies in her ability to show us our own world through the eyes of a unique little boy. Little things take on great significance and you'll never look at the freedom to get up, put on shoes and and walk outside as a commonplace experience again.

I listened to the audio version of this book and while I was initially irriated by the voice of Jack, I came to love his childlike enthusiasm and I have to give high kudos to the actor who portrayed this precocious child. In short, Room is a fascinating read for adults while utterly appropriate for teens and will appeal to anyone searching for the next good book.

Significance: Room celebrates the resiliency of people faced with incredible challenges and the ability of a child to save his mother, both phsyically and mentally.

Personal Choice: I'd had several recommendations from people I trusted and the premise behind the novel intrigued me.

Awards: Alex Award, 2011

Soulless

Soulless: an Alexia Tarabotti novel
The Parasol Protectorate: Book 1
by Gail Carriger
Orbit, 2009. 384 pgs.
Science Fiction / Young Adult Fiction
Paperback: $7.99

Annotation: Not having a soul can be a disadvantage in Victorian London society, except when you're confronting vampires and werewolves, that is.

Summary: Alexia Tarabotti is enough to make any marriage-hungry mama despair. She's dark (thanks to her Italian father),  has a large nose, tends to be a bit of a  bluestocking and is missing quite an important appendage--her soul. Although the last is a matter her family is quite in the dark about. However, all things combined have left her in a state of spinsterhood, which is just fine as far as she's concerned--as long as she gets enough to eat. However, late one night at a society ball Alexia accidentally impales a vampire with her silver-tipped parasol and who should appear to mop up the mess but Lord Maccon, the alpha werewolf of the most respectable pack in London. The two are simply too stubborn and too much alike to get along, but as they (along with Lord Maccon's beta, Professor Lyall) attempt to discern just why a hungry vampire would attack a soulless creature, there begins an adventure that brings them together in highly romantic, highly inappropriate ways. As they soon find out, werewolves and vampires have been disappearing all over the city and so Alexia seeks Lord Akeldama's help, the oldest and most fashionably foppish vampire in London. But the two are unfortunately choloroformed and kidnapped one night and taken to the Hypocras Club, where dastardly experiments are taking place by scientists opposed to the rather civilzed vampires and werewolves who've integrated into society's highest echelons. It is there they meet up with Mr. MacDougall, (the American scientist who was really quite fond of Alexia) and the  man-made automaton. In spite of ensnaring Lord Akeldama, the scientists are perhaps even more pleased they have a truly soulless human upon which to experiment. But when Alexia is thrust into the chambers of Lord Maccon--in his most ferocious full-moon state of werewolfdom--so that they can measure the effects of her soullessness, life becomes wildly unpredictable and it turns out to be a decidely unfortunate move on the part of the scientists. All ends happily though, at least for Alexia and Lord Maccon, and there is even an appearance by Queen Victoria herself, with a blessing (or command) for the two to marry. Do they comply, you ask? You'll have to read it to find out.

Evaluation: I completely understand why the Alex committee proposed this title as vampires, werewolves and the like are quite the thing at the moment. However, I wasn't overly impressed and I'd honestly never recommend it to a teen. The plot is fun, has high energy and a nice regency romance feel to it. However, the novel is far too lascivious for my tastes, let alone appropriate for teen consumption as far as I'm concerned. But, the incorporation of steampunk elements: steam-powered torture chambers, electricity experiments, Dr. Lyall's glassicals and flying dirigibles, make the novel ripe for the current fashion. I suppose Alexia is a likeable character (of course one does have to root for her and Lord Maccon to acknowledge their mutual attraction) and there are the occasional moments of humor which make the novel fun to read, if not deserving of a place on my bookshelf.

Significance: Vampires, werewolves and ghosts, oh my! Yes, the combination of popular monsters, welded together with the steampunk genre, is all the rage at the moment and the reason this book found itself on the Alex committee's radar.

Personal Choice: You should never judge a book by it's cover, but I did. I loved the victorian dress on the cover model and her adorable steampunk top hat with goggles. Plus, she had a parasol and what girl doesn't love a good parasol (with accompanying gears and whatnots). The steampunk genre holds a bit of fascination for me after reading Scott Westerfeld's Leviathan and I was excited to tackle another book in the genre. It's just too bad this wasn't quite the one for me.

Awards: Alex Award Winner, 2010