Gentle story of loss & resilience: ‘Penguin Bloom: Young Readers’ Edition’ by Chris Kuntz
If you have been to an Australian cinema this year you will have at least seen the posters advertising the movie Penguin Bloom. It’s based on the real-life story of the Bloom family in Sydney: Sam and her husband Cameron, who with their three young sons faced tragedy head-on when Sam was injured in an accident whilst on a family holiday in Thailand.
She went from being an active young mum who loved surfing and running on their nearby beach, to a broken woman confined to a wheelchair. She was depressed, traumatised – and angry, too. She struggled with the impact this huge change had on her young family and despaired of ever feeling like a ‘real mum’ again.
When an injured baby magpie is introduced to the family, this little bird transforms their lives. ‘Penguin’ brings hope, purpose and companionship to Sam and the boys and shows Sam a path back from despair.
Cameron captured the story of Penguin’s time with the family on camera and Instagram and it was published in Sam’s 2016 memoir of the experience. Now a feature film starring Naomi Watts, it’s been a hit at the cinemas this summer. Perhaps its popularity reflects the need we have just now for stories of hope and overcoming hardships.
The version of the story published for young readers is based on the screenplay and told from the point of view of Noah, one of the three boys. It expresses the confusion and sadness and yes, guilt, that children can experience when tragedy strikes. It doesn’t shirk from the anger and stress that bubbles within the family but is essentially a story of love and hope.
Penguin Bloom Young Readers’ Edition is a gentle way to introduce the concepts of loss and resilience to youngsters, from a child’s point of view. It will be particularly enjoyed by children who love nature, wildlife and caring for animals.
Penguin Bloom Young Readers’ Edition was published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in January 2021.
My thanks to the publishers for a copy to read and review.
An absolute delight: ‘Searching for Charlotte’ by Kate Forsyth & Belinda Murrell
It was fitting that my final book review in 2020 is for a book whose publication I’ve anticipated for over a year, since I heard Kate Forsyth speak about her 4x Great-Grandmother Charlotte at a women’s literary festival in 2019. A little later, I was lucky enough to see a copy of Charlotte’s book at a Rare Book Week event at the State Library of NSW.
I was so keen I pre-ordered a copy and it was sitting on my shelf for a bit, while I got through some other books on my to-be-read pile.
The story of Charlotte Waring Atkinson had attracted me for several reasons. Firstly, there was a literary mystery: who was the author of the very first children’s book published in Australia? – until 1981 when Charlotte was identified as the author.
Secondly, and perhaps more importantly to me personally, I related to the story of this woman who arrived in New South Wales in the 1820’s, and to the search by the authors (sisters Kate Forsyth and Belinda Murrell) for information about her origins and her life.
Her arrival in Australia occurred at around the same time as that of several of my ancestors, some of whom I have been researching and writing about. Charlotte’s first husband originally hailed from the English county of Kent, from where my great-grandfather (many times over) originated.
Later in life, Charlotte and her daughter lived for a time at Kurrajong, very close to where I grew up in the tiny hamlet of Bilpin, just a few kilometres along the Bells Line of Road in the Blue Mountains.
Also, Charlotte lived so many of the experiences of women in the nineteenth century: an extraordinary and dangerous journey across the seas to an unknown land; pregnancy and childbirth at a time when both of these meant death for so many women; violence at the hands of men; great love and happiness, at least for a time; love for and dedication to her children; horrifying inequities under the law including in financial and family matters.
In tracing Charlotte’s story, the authors bring to life these aspects of women’s lives – some of which have, thankfully, changed; while others appear remarkably similar today.
This book is more than a biography of an accomplished colonial writer, artist, naturalist. It is also a memoir of the authors’ own journeys of discovery – about themselves, their families, their connections to the past. Here is a beautiful quote which perfectly expresses how I feel about the links between the past and present:
On her wrist, my mother wears the charm bracelet that has been handed down to the women of my family for six generations. The golden links of its chain, hung with tiny tinkling charms, seems to me like a metaphor for the miraculous spiral of our DNA, the coiling ladder that connects us all, both to our far-distant ancestors and to our unborn descendants.
Searching for Charlotte p274I appreciated that the authors did not shrink from acknowledging some of the more difficult aspects of their ancestors’ lives, including the fact that by settling on NSW land, they participated in the dispossession of the First Nations peoples who lived there. I, too, have to accept that about my own ancestors, many of whom were recipients of ‘land grants’ made to them by a colonial system that had no right to do so.
Charlotte Waring Atkinson was an extraordinary woman, although she was probably not regarded as such by her contemporaries. And here again I resonate with her story, because my exploration of my forebears comes from the impulse to uncover the extraordinary aspects of ordinary lives:
Charlotte Waring Atkinson was just an ordinary woman. She loved a man and gave birth to children, then tried her best to raise them and care for them, even though she was ground down by grief and harmed in both body and spirit by cruelty and violence. She fought for her children, she found her voice, and she stood up and spoke out at a time when many women were kept mute.
Searching for Charlotte p275This is a delightful book, proof indeed that the descendents of one of Australia’s first female authors have ‘writing in their blood.’ If you are interested in colonial Australian history, women’s history, literary, legal, scientific and educational history….get your hands on a copy! I promise you will not be disappointed.
Searching for Charlotte was published by NLA Publishing in 2020
For budding speculative /sci-fi fans: ‘Future Friend’ by David Baddiel
Future Friend, a chapter book for middle grade readers, will be a sure-fire spark to ignite interest in stories that, like the best sci-fi and speculative fiction, asks readers to consider ‘What if…?’
Pip is a girl from the year 3020, who accidentally enters a time-travel portal and lands in the home of Rahul, a thousand and one years earlier, in the year 2019.
Once over their shock, the two marvel at the amazing differences between their world, while trying to figure out how to get Pip back to her own time. Pip’s future world certainly has some very cool technology – sentient robots, gravity defying boots, MindLink, animals and birds that can talk. (If you grew up in the 1960’s or thereabouts, you might remember the mix of amazement and envy at the futuristic world of the early Star Trek series or even cartoons like The Jetsons.
But the world of 3020 has its definite downsides and Pip wishes that she could be like Rahul and play outside, go to school with other children, and eat real (not lab-created) food. These are all impossible for her because of Earth’s extreme temperatures, rampant viruses and frequent floods.
There is a gentle, and timely, dig at conspiracy theorists and people who refuse to listen to science and instead choose to believe whatever disinformation they are fed by others.
Future Friend deals with some big themes, with an emphasis on friendship, humour and working together to take care of the future planet. It’s a perfect way for youngsters to embark on some enjoyable and accessible sci-fi reading.
Future Friend is published by HarperCollins Children’s Books on 18 November 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.Flight of nonsensical fancy: ‘Code Name Bananas’ by David Walliams
David Walliams, best-selling UK based children’s author, has written another action packed story for readers seven years and older. Full of nonsensical moments and humour, Code Name Bananas takes place during World War II, at the height of The Blitz.
Eric is an 11 year old orphan who is teased by other kids at school because of his sticky-out ears and glasses. Eric’s favourite place in the world is the London Zoo, where his Great Uncle Sid works, and Eric’s favourite animal there is Gertrude the gorilla. Gertrude and Eric share a special connection, so when he learns that Gertrude is no longer safe at the zoo, Eric and Uncle Sid hatch a wild plan to rescue her.
The adventure leads them to uncover a Nazi plot and they must do everything they can to escape the clutches of elderly spies, twin sisters Helene and Bertha Braun, and raise the alarm. In between, they float over the River Thames under a barrage balloon, evade capture by London police, survive a Luftwaffe bombing attack, disguise Gertrude as a bride, and are imprisoned in a German U-boat.
The main characters are endearing; I especially liked that Eric is a kind boy, and his Uncle Sid equally so – his tiny house stuffed with injured animals he has ‘adopted’ from the Zoo is testament to that.
Amongst all the mayhem, younger readers will be gently introduced to some of the features of the war that impacted the most on Britain – the bombing raids, loss and destruction that could strike at any time, the uncertainty of life during wartime. Of course, Code Name Bananas is first and foremost an action packed and fun read and youngsters will be sure to welcome it.
Code Name Bananas was published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in November 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.A new world of magic: ‘A Clock of Stars: The Shadow Moth’ by Francesca Gibbons
Lately I have noticed a whole crop of new children’s authors writing terrific fantasy stories for younger and middle grade readers; many with young female protagonists who drive the action. Francesca Gibbons is one such author. The Shadow Moth is her debut, the first in A Clock of Stars trilogy.
Imogen and her younger sister Marie argue and bicker like most siblings, and Imogen has a temper (and a tendency towards impulsive action which can sometimes get her into trouble.) When the two girls follow a strange moth through a door in a tree, they fall into a magical world where adventures – and dangers – await.
They meet strange creatures, fierce monsters, a lonely prince with a soon-to-be wicked stepmother, a giant, forest people and a king. Finding their way back home is harder than they think and they must rescue the prince and confront the monster king at the top of the mountain before they can return.
There is the Clock of Stars which shows the future at every hour, and a mountain and forests that are sick and dying because the mountain has lost its heart – the fabled Sertze Hora stone:
‘The Sertza Hora is a living thing: the mountain’s beating heart. It puts leaves on the trees and clean water in the rivers. And, since you humans decided to rip the heart from the body, we’ve all been bleeding to death.’
The Shadow Moth p358The gentle environmental theme is accompanied by a poke at other concerns: Imogen’s ‘worry creatures’ that keep her awake at night; Prince Miro’s loneliness in a castle without friends; learning to accept difference in others. None of this is didactic and it’s all wrapped up in a roller coaster ride through a world full of magic, danger and, for Imogen and Marie, a chance to learn to appreciate the home, Mum and Grandma they left behind.
The black and white illustrations by Chris Riddell help the amazing characters come to life.
Youngsters who enjoy books like the Nevermoor series, Havoc! or Starfell will love the fast paced magic of this new offering for kids.
A Clock of Stars: The Shadow Moth was published by HarperCollins Children’s Books on 7 October 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a copy to read and review.
Recovery & resilience: ‘The Fire Wombat’ by Jackie French
The wonderful Jackie French is back with another picture book, this one illustrated by Danny Snell.
The Fire Wombat takes the trauma and devastation of the 2019/2020 summer bushfires across eastern Australia and crafts a gentle fable about how even the smallest of beings can survive with the support of others.
Jackie lives in the Araluen Valley near Braidwood in southeastern NSW, an area that experienced those appalling fires during that summer. She is passionate and vocal about the wildlife that shares her land, and has published many books about these animals, including her well loved Wombat series.
In The Fire Wombat, the terrifying fires drive many animals from their homes, some to shelter in a wombat burrow deep in the earth. When the fires have passed, they face starvation and thirst. That is, until human intervention delivers life saving food and water to the devastated fire grounds. And gradually, the land begins to heal:
Others flourished, though trees drooped:
The Fire Wombat
Goannas feasted, eagles swooped.
Grass trees blossomed, feeding bees.
Native mice carried seeds.
Kookaburras, currawongs…
Slowly, the bush regained its songs.The little wombat at the heart of the story survives.
The author’s note at the end of the book urges people to donate to a wildlife charity if they wish to help after disasters, or get training in how to care for wild animals.
This lovely picture book is perfect in the way it encompasses its environmental theme and deals with a very dark and traumatic experience for so many Australian children, while also offering hope for the future.
The Fire Wombat is published by Angus & Robertson, an imprint of HarperCollins Children’s Books, on 29 October 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.
#AussieAuthor20
#AWW2020A celebration of difference: ‘The Odds’ by Matt Stanton
Meet the Odds…because fitting in is overrated.
The Odds by Matt StantonKip lives in a noisy city with her dad, who makes graphic novels. She’s quiet and has a hard time fitting in at school, where other kids often laugh at her difference.
One day ten characters, all decidedly odd beings, appear in her bedroom. It takes Kip a while to recognise them from the world of dreams, imagination and stories that she sometimes prefers to real life.
That’s the start of a mad-cap adventure as Pip and her dad try to figure out how to get the uncooperative Odds back to their own worlds of comic strip, picture book, TV show, video game and dream.
In the process, Kip learns that it’s easier to tackle hard things with someone you love, and that it’s possible to accept ourselves – and others – for who we are.
Dad: Hard things are just hard, Kippo. You can’t escape them, but you know what does help?
The Odds p104
Kip: What?
Dad: You. Even the hardest things are made easier if you have someone to share them with.The Odds delivers its message with a light touch and lots of humour, deftly pointing out the oddities in everyone:
Kip: But after all, isn’t odd just another word for special? I’m odd. We’re all odd. And that’s… normal.
The Odds p139It’s a perfect little book for early readers who like stories that make them laugh and invite them to think a bit, too.
The Odds is published by Harper Collins Children’s Books on 29 October 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a review copy.
#AussieAuthor20
Empathy through fiction: ‘We Are Wolves’ by Katrina Hannestad
There is a theory that people who read a lot of fiction can develop empathy through their reading. Fiction (and some non fiction too) invites us to inhabit other worlds – the characters’ times, places, and situations – and also allows us to see our own world and circumstances through different eyes. This is one way that our empathy ‘muscles’ develop and grow.
This process begins from the earliest exposure to books and, I believe, continues right through our reading life.
So it was with interest that I approached We Are Wolves, an historical fiction work by award winning Australian author Katrina Nannestad. Pitched at middle grade readers (approx 10 years and over) it is the story of the Wolf children: Liesl, Otto and baby Mia, who become separated from their mother and grandparents as the family flees from the oncoming Russian army towards the end of WWII.
The thing is, the family are German, living in East Prussia. They have the requisite photo of Hitler above their dining table. Their father has just been pressed into army service for the Reich as German defeat looms.
As a child, The Diary of Anne Frank was the only text I knew of that was written from a German-born child’s point of view. I remember my sense of dawning horror as I read about the dreadful things that befell other Jewish children and their families under the Nazis. The Wolf family are not Jewish, nor are they Nazi supporters. They are just an ordinary family trying to get by, to survive the war. They are very fearful of the Red Army troops so when Papa is reported missing in action and the Russians approach their village, they must leave.
Liesl promised her mother that she will keep her siblings together and protect them. When they find themselves alone, in a bitterly cold winter and the middle of a war zone, with no food or shelter, she and Otto must use all their wits to survive. Sometimes they must break the rules: stealing food, ransacking abandoned luggage for warm clothes or a blanket, killing birds or animals to eat. They live like wild things, like wolves; facing danger, cold and constant hunger.
The narrative is all from Liesl’s point of view, that of a child who gradually realises that war turns everything on its head:
All I know is that war does not make sense. The things that people do in a war are not the things they would do if they were at home with their families.
We Are Wolves p126This is how we develop empathy: by living, for a while, in the world of German children whose world has collapsed around them due to a war not of their making. The narrative takes readers far enough into the experience of the Wolf children to be able to recognise their hardships and dilemmas. Darker events and actions are alluded to but not inappropriately so for younger readers.
There are lighter moments also: acts of kindness from some German and Russian soldiers and citizens, unlikely friendships with other Wolfskinder (wolf children) they encounter, and the playfulness of children, especially little Mia.
There are lovely illustrations by Martina Heiduczek, which capture the landscape and circumstances of the Wolf family as the story progresses.
The novel also touches on the importance of identity and language for well- being and sense of self, as at one stage the children must pretend to be Lithuanian so as to avoid Russian retribution.
‘German words feel right in my mouth,’ {Otto} says.
We Are Wolves p290
‘Yes, ‘ I agree.
“And in my heart.’
I wrap my arms around him. ‘Yes!’… But from now on,’ I whisper at last, ‘you and I must speak Lithuanian. Always…Even with each other in the middle of the night. Even in our heads and in our hearts…it is the only way we will ever be truly safe…’If we can transfer our understanding of this to situations closer to home, perhaps we can better appreciate the pain experienced by Australia’s First Nations peoples, so long denied their language, culture and identity?
We Are Wolves is a beautiful, heartfelt, engrossing read that can contribute to the development of empathy in all who read it.
It is published by HarperCollins Children’s Books on 29 October 2020. My thanks to the publishers for a copy to read and review.
#AussieAuthor20
#AWW2020Dreams and wishes: ‘What We’ll Build : Plans for our together future’ by Oliver Jeffers
In this new picture book by creator and artist Oliver Jeffers, a man and his little girl dream about projects they can work on together.
The simple text builds its own gentle rhythm while the witty illustrations allow a glimpse into the subtext; sometimes humorous, sometimes wry, and always touching.
We’ll build some love to set aside
What We’ll Build
and build a hole where we can hide.
A fortress to keep our enemies out,
and higher walls for when they shout.
But you don’t always lose and you don’t always win,
so we’ll build a gate to let them in.
We’ll build a table to drink our tea, and say
‘I’m sorry’, ‘Me two’, ‘Me three’.The book’s presentation is beautiful: hard-cover with a colour soaked dust cover, making it perfect for a gift for a special youngster.
What We’ll Build is a love letter to children, to dreams and possibilities and to the special relationship between fathers and their daughters.
What We’ll Build is published by HarperCollins Children’s Books in October 2020.
My thanks to the publishers for a copy to read and review.
A picture book for all of us: ‘The Great Realisation’ by Tomos Roberts
Tomos Roberts (‘Tomfoolery’) wrote the poem The Great Realisation and launched it on his YouTube channel in March 2020. It’s a poem of simple hope, and a plea for all of us to use the lessons and perspective of ‘2020 hindsight’ to create a better, more loving world once the global pandemic has receded.
Here’s Tomos and his brother and sister with the poem on his ‘Tomfoolery’ YouTube channel.
He has now brought his beautiful and encouraging words to book form with the addition of watercolour illustrations by Japanese artist Nomoco.
Roberts wrote The Great Realisation for his young siblings while in Covid19 lockdown. But I think the poem is for all of us. Its simplicity allows us to put aside our doubts, fears and cynicism and, perhaps just for a moment, imagine future possibilities for the whole world.
The book would be a perfect addition to school libraries and classrooms.
Other videos on the Tomfoolery YouTube channelhttps://www.probablytomfoolery.com/ are worth a visit, for a dose of what I think of as ‘sensible optimism’. I highly recommend A Tale of Two Mindsets for a few minutes of poetry that will help to deter the cynicism and doubts!
My thanks to HarperCollins Children’s Books for a copy of this wonderful book to review.
