The value of ambiguity

Twenty years ago, Lois Lowry wrote a little dystopian fable called The Giver. It's a pretty disturbing book about a people who decide to rid their world of all the things that cause problems -- envy, sadness, worry, hurt. In their zeal, even things like color, harsh weather, and love are erased. Once each citizen reaches puberty, he or she takes a pill every morning for the rest of their lives that stops them from the emotional changes of puberty. Such is Lowry's skill that she doesn't have to explain the mechanics for the reader to accept the reality.

Most people in this world are quite content; it's all designed that way. But there is one person -- most of them don't even know about this -- who holds all the memories of how their world used to be. What snow feels like, and the smell of your newborn's head. . . and pain, suffering, despair. Being reminded of these memories helps the world's leaders make good decisions.

There was a particularly interesting twist to this story. Stop now if you haven't read it. This post will still be here tomorrow or next week. The book is really short and found in nearly any bookstore. It won the Newbery Award for exceptional writing for children, ensuring that it will stay in print and be given (or assigned) to 9 year olds in perpetuity. It won't take long for you to read it.

Okay, I am now assuming you have read the book. What do you think happened at the end? Did Jonas make it out with the baby to another community; i.e. did they survive? Or was his fevered dream of hands reaching out to him, taking the baby, helping him up, simply that -- a fevered dream before death?

Since writing The Giver, Lowry has written many other terrific books, including three others about communities that share its landscape: Gathering Blue, Messenger, and most recently Son. They are also brilliant commentaries on societies and how/why they work or don't. But here's what I don't like about them. They answer The Giver's last, potent question for the reader. Lowry's a terrific writer. This series is . . . I'll say it again . . . brilliant. But

(I'll bet you could hear that coming.)

But, The Giver was perfect. It was a great novel with either ending, which had more to do with what the reader brought to the book than with the author, which is something that all too often gets lost when we think about reading. Good books provide one side of a conversation, a thousand conversations, a million conversations, each one between the author and each reader. I'm not sorry I read Gathering Blue, Messenger or Son, but I am sorry that reading them shut down my conversation with The Giver.

I am very pleased

Did you know that Ian Fleming of James Bond fame wrote a children's book? He did! In 1964 for his son, Caspar. In 1968, it was adapted (with a screenplay by Roald Dahl) into a musical starring Dick Van Dyke.

Ian Fleming's book had an inventor and his family, a car with a mind of its own, bad guys (of course) and a recipe for fabulous fudge. Our family read it aloud on a car trip to southern California and loved every minute! I'm not a huge fan of the movie, but Dick Van Dyke is always funny and the car is amazing so there's much to enjoy. Both are worth seeking out . . . especially in light of what comes next in the story.

In 2011, you may have heard a giant squeal of excitement as news broke that the Ian Fleming family had commissioned Frank Cottrell Boyce to write three sequels to Chitty Chitty Bang Bang!

Be still my heart! Cottrell Boyce, who wrote Millions and Framed, charming books which have also been made into very good movies, was asked to take Chitty into the 21st century! What's not to love?

Well, it's probably been 25 years since I read Fleming's novel, but today when I picked up Chitty Chitty Bang Bang Flies Again, the first of the sequels, I was transported. It's true that instead of the Potts family, we have the Tootings -- calm, resourceful mom, cheerful dad, wannabe nihilist 15-year-old, practical younger brother, and Little Harry, a very observant toddler -- and these are people I could recognize as worthy of Chitty Chitty Bang Bang. Here's the 15-year-old: "'I don't want to go anywhere. I want to stay in my room now that I've finally got it the way I like it.' Lucy had got rid of all the ornaments and dancing certificates from her room, painted the walls and her bookcase black. Dyed her duvet. And her pillowslip."

It's the "and her pillowslip" that assured me Cottrell Boyce got the tone just right -- dry humor, great characters and crazy adventures all bring Chitty back to life, with a perfect cliff hanger of an ending. Any of the titles I've mentioned here are appropriate (and will be enjoyed by) kids from 7 on up. The books would be appealing family read-alouds, aimed as they are at boys and girls of all ages. Oh, and did I mention it's illustrated? I just love it when publishers illustrate children's books!

Chiaroscuro in Tween Fiction, or 12-Year-Old Girls with Moxie

I'm not quite sure how I ended up reading two books nearly simultaneously about families threatened with homelessness, but there it is. I do usually have two books going at a time, one downstairs and one upstairs, and usually they are different enough that I can keep them straight. This pairing was a bit too close for comfort to start, but they differentiated themselves soon enough.

Yesterday I finished My Life in Pink & Green, by Lisa Greenwald. It sounds sweet, doesn't it? And it is. It's a good book for intermediate grades, with strong messages about empowerment. Lucy, a seventh grader, wants to save the family business, but has a hard time persuading the adults in her life that she can actually do anything.

Today I finished Almost Home, by Joan Bauer. This one is also pretty sweet, which is perfect given that the main character is named Sugar and there's an adorable puppy on the cover. Bauer usually writes about girls who've got a lot on their plates and this book is no exception -- deadbeat dad, mom in denial, and a home in foreclosure. Bauer's characters have other strong adults around them, though, and that's what helps them through the tough times. While Almost Home is also appropriate for intermediate grades, the stakes are higher. Sugar and her mom lose their home and wind up in a shelter.

Spoiler alert, both books end well. My Life in Pink & Green is Greenwald's first book and it shows. She's got talent and will learn to trust herself and her reader, but Bauer knows that you've got to have some bitter with the sweet. Either book would be a good choice for your 9-12 year-old reader.