Talina in the Tower by Michelle Lovric

First published in 2012

Michelle Lovric is one of my favourite children’s authors working today.  I have been a big fan since I read her first children’s novel The Undrowned Child – her story-telling skills are top notch. Talina in the Tower, like Lovric’s two books before it, is written with imagination, intelligence, humour that snaps and loving attention to Venice and its history. If you truly want to escape, her books are your means to.

Talina in the Tower is set in late nineteenth-century Venice. It is described with gothic flare; on the brink of disaster and inhabited by frightened people and even more frightening creatures. I really enjoy Lovric’s cast lists. Talina is populated with vultures, sarcastic rats, cat gangs, Ravageurs (think evil, malformed wolves) and human characters even more quirky and strange than the creatures roaming about all around them. All Lovric’s characters have this gorgeous pantomimic quality this is endearing rather than over-the-top. I am actually jealous of some of the amazing character creations she comes up with. She obviously takes great joy in crafting their dialogue and it is fantastic stuff.

Talina is along the Teo mould from The Undrowned Child: wilful; clever; impudent, temperamental and brave. She has a huge heart and is wonderfully resourceful. I love girl characters like this. She is the perfect character to go on this adventure with. I also love how Lovric can so easily make ‘evil’ characters multi-faceted with just a few paragraphs.

The story is plot-heavy and full of twists and turns. It is dark and doesn’t shy away from barbaric or mature themes. But this is where Lovric’s wonderful humour kicks in. She has a great knack for capturing peripheral action, and there are some brilliant asides and observations from characters who are observing the main action (the story is told in third person). She also makes Venice and its history alive and interesting, and manages the perfect balance of fact and fiction. It took me a while to open up the book, because I knew how dense Lovric’s books can be (in a good way). But once I started reading Talina I was hooked.

If it sounds like I’m raving it’s because I am. Lovric has some of the best children’s writing out there. I only wish my own books reach the same imaginative highs as hers.

Ghost Knight by Cornelia Funke

First published in 2012

Ghost Knight is cute and fun; a great story for both girls and boys with just the right mix of humour, genuine thrills and a positive message. Jon moves to boarding school and finds himself the victim of a band of ghosts intent on killing him for revenge, because they have a long history with Jon’s family lineage. With the help of his new best friend Ella, and the ghost of a noble knight with a debt to fulfil, Jon fights back and learns courage and humility in the process.

Fabulous settings – a boarding school, old cathedrals, haunted moors – this is the stuff adventure stories are made of! All of it is based, of course, on real places and people – Salisbury Cathedral in England, the knight William Longspee, and numerous other references dotted throughout. You can tell Funke loves the material she is working with, and is also having great fun with it. This is fabulous because it helps the book steer away from being a dry history lesson masquerading as a story. Ghost Knight is genuinely quite creepy and your heart will pound right along with Jon and Ella as they race from place to place, trying to stay one step ahead of the ghastly spirits.

Ghost Knight has plenty of funny moments – a lot of it silly, and a lot of it coming from Jon’s distaste of his mum’s new boyfriend, ‘The Beard’. This is humour that never tries too hard and is quite charming, and Jon’s dry asides help to alleviate the more thrilling moments so that younger children will not get scared.

The two central characters – Jon and Ella – are wonderful, and their relationship at that exact age I love – where they go from the ‘I Hate Boys/Girls’ stage to realising there might actually be some attraction there. Jon does have a little crush on Ella but the two form a lovely friendship and a strong bond. Ella has a bit of Hermione in her, and Jon just a touch of Ron, but together they are a great team and it is nice to see this in children’s books. Peripheral characters are strong too, whether they are human or otherwise – well-rounded and lacking ‘cariacture’ qualities.

Most of all I love how this book is presented – it is a gorgeous little volume and the black and white illustrations are some of the best I’ve seen in a children’s book – gorgeous, informative, and totally enhancing the story. I found Ghost Knight to be a real winner and would recommend it whole-heartedly to the 8-11 age group.

Pure by Andrew Miller

This is not so much a review as a brief rave about how brilliant and beautiful I think this book is. Pure is my favourite read this year so far. For me, it was one of those books that you wait and hope to come across, that makes you realise how incredible writing and language and books can be.

I have read some reviews that expressed slight criticism because Pure isn't really big on plot or narrative drive. For me, this didn't even factor. I was so immersed and intrigued in the world Andrew Miller created, and so taken in by his beautiful writing, that I kept returning to the book at every available moment.

There is simplicity here, but also gorgeous, breathtaking descriptions and reflections. Yes, the book does pretty much cover the methodical destruction of Les Innocents, but it is so fascinating. And without anything of great distinction actually happening, a palpable sense of dread and atmosphere builds and builds. This book is earthy but at the same time has a refined elegance. It is humane, with the large and small fallibilities and fancies of people laid out effortlessly on the page. It has a lovely optimism while still retaining an authentic feeling of despair and disillusion.

The historical detail, the philosophy, is there, but it is all mixed into a much greater idea that concerns the workings of the human soul. The ordinary is made beautiful and alive.

This is literary writing at its loveliest. I thought Pure was dazzling and I was utterly enchanted by it.

The Graveyard Book, by Neil Gaiman

This edition published in hardback by Bloomsbury, 2008.

I do love me some Neil Gaiman - he has done some terrific, wacky, original and touching (especially his shorter fiction) stuff over the years. And as a lover of children's fiction, The Graveyard Book has been on my radar since its release - even if I've only got to it now!

On the night his family is murdered, a toddler wanders into a graveyard, where the ghosts and supernatural residents who live there agree to raise him as one of their own. Bod, as he is named, grows up with all the dangers and adventures possible in a graveyard, but he is not allowed to leave - or the man Jack, who killed Bod's family, will kill Bod too.

Although The Graveyard Book was all the things I thought it would be - clever, magical, well-written, quirky - for me it lacked an emotional punch. I wanted it to kind of chew up all my emotions, as well as my imagination - like the best fantasy does. But I feel like it never quite got there.

Although certainly creative and well-written, I think the way The Graveyard Book is written might be part of the reason why I never really fell in love. It's very episodic, each chapter concerning an event every two years in Bod's life, with the threat of the man Jack hanging loosely over everything. Each chapter could be a short story, in fact I'm sure I have read some of the chapters in short story compilations, and all throughout the book I was in that weird, sometimes annoying state of going, 'I'm sure I've read this before.'

Gaiman's books have such a wonderful folklorish feel to them, and that is certainly present here. It's a special kind of gritty whimsy. The chapters about the ghoul-gate and the danse macarbe are the best kind of creepy and lovely respectively. That sense of the other, of longing for fantastic worlds just out of reach, is done with a great sense of understanding and love.

Gaiman's secondary characters are always a joy - I especially had a lot of love for Silas, Miss Lupescu and Liza. They are the kind of strange, mysterious and charming characters we make stories about as a kid. They, and others, provide just the right amount of wisdom and fun.

There are, of course, obvious metaphors - namely Bod growing up and learning about the world outside the graveyard, learning from his own mistakes, is reflective of any young person's journey into the unfamiliar world of adulthood. This is never done in twee or over-the-top ways. Bod is often thoughtless and makes mistakes but we see throughout the book how he learns from them and respects those he does ask for advice. The mistakes he makes always seem justified because we are put so fully in his head that we understand them - this is great, effective writing. Bod is quite an endearing little character and we see how his life and actions are enriched by others.

The Graveyard Book is lots of fun with some widsom and depth to boot, but not quite the emotional attachment to tie it all together. Book two in my quest to read 10 children's classics before the end of the year. Recommended.

The Mourning Emporium, by Michelle Lovric

This edition published in hardcover, by Orion, 2010.

STORY:

Barely a year has passed and Venice is once again in peril. Bajamonte Tiepolo is back, and his baddened magic with him. This time his reach has spread from the canals of Venice to Australia and England, where the imminent death of Queen Victoria has left London vulnerable. Teo, the Undrowned Child, and Renzo, the Studious Son, embark on another set of perilous adventures. Among their encounters: the beautiful but brazen Venetian mermaids and their slightly less vivacious English counterparts; a ragtag bunch of street urchins operating under the guidance of Turtledove the Bulldog, exploits at high seas under the cruel decree of the evil Miss Uish, and Bajamonte Tiepolo’s usual bunch of miscreant minions. Can Teo and Renzo save their beloved Venice in time?

BACKGROUND:

This is the sequel to one of my favs – if not favourite – children’s books last year. These books have all the makings of classics – they are so imaginative and intelligent and immersive, and at their hearts is such a celebration of story-telling. They are certainly literary. I do not think they are easy books to read, but advanced readers will be rewarded. That said, The Mourning Emporium did not quite reach the dizzying heights of The Undrowned Child. I think maybe the formula was a bit off. All the elements were there but sometimes just didn’t gel, or were a little forced. I also found myself quite sceptical at times over how the narrative panned out. A few times scenes ended too abruptly or easily. Also, some of the sparkling wit of Teo and the narrative voice was lacking. But overall, The Mourning Emporium is a winner. The detail, the intelligence, the ambition – I am quite jealous of Lovric’s creative talent.

CHARACTERS:

Many familiar faces are back. Some lovely interplay between the feisty Venetian mermaids and the withering hypochondriac tendencies of the English ones. These scenes are where Lovric’s wit is at its best. The urchin-like street children are a welcome addition, although there are perhaps too many for any one individual to make any impact. Likewise with the Scilla’s orphan crew of young boys. Teo and Renzo are back, but I miss their snippy, sparky exchanges of the first book. There are some nice moments, though, with Teo and Renzo and Sibella, competitor to Renzo’s affections. Very cute. The bad guys are back, and they are the usual mixed bag of wonderful evil absurdity (although I did find the stereotyped Aussie crims a little too obvious, even if it was meant to be like this). Miss Uish is deliciously evil – a great character, fascinating and easy to hate. Once again, most of the characters speak with their own dialects, which is quite brilliant to decipher and read.

STYLE:

Lovric’s writing is high on dense description, but it is all very absorbing and worked in discreetly, adding insight and depth to the story. The writing is exciting and loaded with tension. I particularly loved the scene where Teo is trapped in a melting iceberg along with two vampire eels. What I particularly enjoyed, about the last book too, was that Lovric’s writing is not censored or dumbed down – there is cruelty here, and unfairness, and characters dying, but she doesn’t shy away from the darkness and I appreciate this. A couple of scenes I was left disappointed by – it felt like they were cut short or lacked satisfactory logic: swimming hundred of metre in arctic waters and then wandering around dank dungeons with only a passing thought to the cold? And the final scene, the climatic fight and resolution, felt a little abrupt. But as I said, there is still so much good stuff here, and so much fun to be had.

CONCLUSION:

I hear that there is a possible third book, and The Mourning Emporium makes me excited to see this series continue. Best read if you’re familiar with what’s gone before. One of the best written series out there at the moment.

Cicada Summer, by Kate Constable

First published by Allen & Unwin in 2009

Cicada Summer is a middle-grade fiction book that explores friendship, family, grief and personal growth. Eloise, who hasn’t spoken since her mother died, is left with her grandmother Mo while her dad goes off to organise plans to turn the derelict family mansion into a new, modern convention centre. But Eloise develops a bond with the new house, and finds herself transported into another time, where she meets a ghostly girl associated with the house’s past.

The first half of Cicada Summer is promising; the introduced themes have great potential, the characters are engaging, the setting has a wonderful ghostly/atmospheric feel to it. But somewhere along the way this book lost me a little bit – I just feel that the story didn’t really go anywhere; it didn’t grab me emotionally and all the conflict was resolved in a kind of by-the-numbers way. There was nothing unexpected. Basically, I felt like I’d read the story before and knew how it would end. I would have perhaps liked to see something more done with the whole time-travelling concept and maybe just for Constable to go a little deeper with it all – with the issues raised (death, immigration, land re-development, family issues, imagination) and even with the language itself. The second half just didn’t live up to the promise of the first.

I don’t really know what else to say – I just think it needed something else. Everything about it was just nice but there was no depth to the words that were skimming the surface. Passive. That’s the word. It lulls you in but after that there’s nowhere else to go.

Basically an easy read if you want to pass an afternoon. I would like to read a few of Kate Constable’s other books, just to see if it was just this book or her writing style.

The Undrowned Child, by Michelle Lovric

First published in hardback by Orion Children's Books, (Hachette) 2009.



The Undrowned Child is a book that makes me excited about books – about the art of story-telling, about imagination, about the cleverness and beauty of the English language, about great characters and about the ability of a story to transport you someplace else. It was the best kids book I read last year, and I only happened onto it because I was searching for kids/YA books that had mermaids in them, and this one came up. It is a shame it doesn’t seem to be well-known (as far as I can tell, in Australia). Maybe the release of the second in the series, The Mourning Emporium, will change that – I hope so, because The Undrowned Child has all the qualities that made Harry Potter so popular and successful – wit, humour, adventure, genuine chills, complex, appealing characters and story-telling that is completely immersive.

We have our lead, Teo, a girl who, although she is supposedly Napoletana, feels a strong attraction to Venice. There is Renzo, a charming Venetian boy who seems determined to upstage her at every turn. There is Maria, Teo’s snooty arch-nemesis. Then we throw in the grand, mysterious canals and architecture of Venice; beautiful mermaids (yes!) with hearts of gold but mouths on them like rough-as-guts sailors; a Kraken-like creature who is poisoning the water that surrounds the city; a variety of ghosts, some wishing to redeem themselves, some hopelessly given up, some looking to wreak a little more havoc; an array of fantastic and mythical creatures (including winged lions and vampire eels); scientists racing against time to save their beloved Venice; and a mystery which Teo, with Renzo’s help, must figure out – how to stop the malignant spirit of Bajamonte Tiepolo from coming to power again and bringing about a repeat of one of the most tragic days in Venetian history.

The Undrowned Child is a fantastic mix of real Venetian history, fascinating mythology/fairy-tale and a subtle coming-of-age story concerning Teo, our heroine. The sub-plot involving her feelings for the infuriating Renzo is touching and beautifully done, her attitude towards their whole relationship spot-on for the no-longer-child but not-quite-teen. Teo is flawed and she and Renzo make mistakes in their mission to save Venice, but this makes their endearing characters realistic and us empathetic to their many dilemmas.

I was enthralled by just about every character in The Undrowned Child, whether they play a big part or small. Lovric has a way with characterisation and their encounters with each other are a joy to read. I loved Lovric’s take on mermaids, and her hierarchy of ghosts. Her ‘evil’ characters are genuinely scary and she creates some awesome atmosphere with many of her set-pieces.

Where The Undrowned Child really sucked me in was that it is genuinely witty and sharp, thanks in part to Teo’s way of seeing the world. Her dialogue is some of the best I’ve read in a children’s book, and her characters come out with such funny and interesting ways of expressing themselves. I did notice that she seems to have a disregard for using the word said – all her characters exclaim, or talk despondently, or sob, or exclaim snootily, and so on. This goes against just about everything I’ve been taught about writing, but you know what? For this book, I think it works. It’s all part of the book’s quirky charm.

Love, love, loved The Undrowned Child. Maybe not suitable for younger readers – but this in intelligent, amusing, captivating story-telling, and I only hope Lovric gets the recognition she deserves.

Dark Matter, by Michelle Paver

Published in 2010, by Orion



I love a good horror story – I love that creepy dread-inducing feeling, that idea that something is not quite right. Ghosts are fascinating because there is a whole other story going on away from their haunting of a person or place – why are they haunting it, what happened, is it malignant or just wanting help, how much can it intrude into the present? So I picked up Dark Matter because it looked like a fun scary read, and a nice change from my usual young adult and kids fare.

Jack is in his late twenties – poor, lonely and desperate to change his life. He is offered the chance to be a wireless operator on an Arctic expedition with four others, and leaves a London threatened by war to spend a year at a base in Gruhuken, in remote Norway. At first he is delighted to be useful, away from his stuffy, dead-end life in London, but as, one by one, his companions are all forced to leave, Jack begins to doubt his commitment to staying. Living in permanent polar night, he lives in fear of the sea freezing over, making return and escape impossible. And something is watching him, in the snow – something that oozes malignance. Imagination or reality? Is Jack really alone?

The setting of this book, Gruhuken, is stunning in its untouched isolation, its harshness, its complete submission to the natural world. Paver describes it with astute observation. Her prose is not showy or of astounding beauty – but the world she’s describing is beautiful enough on its own. The darkness, the rare moments of light, the fog, the dark water, the ice caps – they all come alive in Paver’s prose and you can feel Jack’s wonder as he witnesses what it is like to step into this world.

Dark Matter is told in diary entries, something I’m not usually a fan of. It works well here, but it could have been told in normal first person present or past to the same effect. I guess what the diary entries do is emphasise the elements of time and isolation. When you are alone and waiting for someone or something, time can have a good old play around with your mind. And as Jack is alone and his story quite a personal one, the diary-style captures well what he is going through.

I wouldn’t say this story is particularly scary, either psychologically or physically. But I had a great time reading it. For what it is, it works. It does perfectly the is there/isn’t there mood and the feel of being stuck, alone, in this hostile white wilderness and wondering whether you are going to last. I love a good faithful-dog sub-plot, and the one with Isaak added a much-needed emotional grounding. It provided warmth, and at least one other character whose survival we invested in (because obviously, as its Jack’s diary, we know he’s going to last at least through to the end). I also found the rituals that occupied Jack’s day quite fascinating, the every little thing he needed to do to retain normality and ensure that he beat the cold and the environment. It feels real.

Dark Matter won’t have you trembling under your covers. But it is a well told story, with just enough uh-oh moments to keep you turning the pages to the end.

"Moving closer to the edge, I peered down. The water was glassy green, extraordinarily clear. I experienced the feeling I sometimes get when I'm on a bridge or a railway platform. Rationally, you know that you've no intention of stepping off ... but you're aware that you could, and that the only thing stopping you is your will."