Tag Archives: Illness
Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie and After Ever After by Jordan Sonnenblick
Being in the throes of adolescence, my two teenagers have little they agree on … especially when it comes to reading. Thing 1 can’t ever read enough; Thing 2 only deigns to pick up a book when he’s got an assignment due (yesterday, ahem). Jordan Sonnenblick, however, always elicits a sort-of similar response from both: “When’s his next book coming out?” Thing 1 asks; “Drums and Zen were great; maybe I’ll read another …” Thing 2 ponders. Hope springs eternal.
So here I am to tell parents with readers and non-readers that Sonnenblick is an ideal choice for both. Really. Tried and tested in this house.
Drums, Girls, and Dangerous Pie was Sonnenblick’s debut effort (the last paragraph in his online bio says, “I have written a book per year since then,” so let’s hope he keeps that momentum going!). Welcome to Steven Alper’s eighth grade year … which starts out pretty smoothly. He’s a decent student, an awesome drummer, has reliable friends including a gorgeous crush, the usual loving parents, and an adorable (if sometimes annoying) five-year-old-brother. So far, so good … until one morning (October 7, to be exact), Steven is making “moatmeal” for little Jeffy (which only Steven can make just right) when Jeffy takes a tumble and gets a nosebleed … and it won’t stop. Emergency room, hospitalization, tests … and Jeffy is diagnosed with leukemia.
In pitch-perfect eighth-grade boy-speak, Sonnenblick details the challenges that Steven faces – watching his baby brother suffer through the debilitating treatments, his parents’ superhuman efforts to contain their worry, his own impossible feelings of helplessness and anger, not to mention his failing grades, his erratic love life, and the school counselor whose candy hearts make him weep every time.
Fast forward eight years to After Ever After and Jeffrey’s now in eighth grade. His leukemia is in remission, but he’s left with lifetime scars inside and out – a self-described “short, chubby kid with glasses, a limp, and brain damage.” A bit of exaggeration, but definitely a semblance of truth. His best friend. Tad, is an acerbic fellow cancer survivor. He’s “met the girls of [his] dreams,” in California-transfer Lindsay Abraham. So far, school is pretty good … although the home life, not so much. His accountant father can’t understand why Jeffrey struggles so much with math; his teacher mother (understandably) worries more than most. And, most disturbingly, his idol-brother Steven has dropped out of life and is somewhere in Africa chasing drumming circles.
Then a letter arrives: Filled with “super-awkward phrases like ‘educational equity’ and ‘assessment regime’ and ‘holistic integrity of the K-12 system,’” the bottom line means Jeffrey will need to pass “huge, horrifying state standardized tests” in order to graduate from eighth grade and move on. That letter (which ends up in the garbage disposal, ahem) leads to some major planning – including both Jeff and Tad getting through graduation with remarkable results! Another unforgettable eighth-grade Alper year begins …
Somehow, Sonnenblick is able to create both a shattering and hopeful story, balanced with gentle humor and wrenching tenderness. Highly recommend to be read back-to-back, the double novels offer a clear, remarkable window into adolescence … although you’ll need to occasionally wipe away the blur from your overflowing tears.
Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult
Published: 2004 and 2010 Continue reading
Forgotten Country by Catherine Chung
As Janie weeps over her first-ever separation from her mother, who is about to give birth, her grandmother admonishes her with the grave responsibility Janie must bear for her new sibling. “In our family … a sister always dies,” her grandmother warns, sharing the horrific tale of her own infant sister’s death during the Japanese occupation of Korea.
Two decades later, living Stateside, Janie’s family is in crisis: sister Hannah has severed family ties, while their father faces terminal cancer. Seeking the latest treatments, her parents return to Korea, charging Janie with bringing Hannah back. The sisters’ devastating confrontation sends Janie alone to rejoin her parents and extended family, each scarred by the terrifying legacy of colonial occupation, war, dangerous politics, and a fractured country.
Verdict: No argument that the prize-winning Chung writes elegiac, exquisite, multilayered prose, yet her debut ultimately falters between too much (self-absorption overload, cousin Gabe’s death, sleazy adviser) and not enough (Hannah’s disappearance, her uncle’s silence). For greater satisfaction, readers might try Sonya Chung‘s Long for This World or Chang-rae Lee‘s The Surrendered.
Review: “Fiction,” Library Journal, February 1, 2012
Readers: Adult
Published: 2012 Continue reading
Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, Korean American
The Art of Hearing Heartbeats by Jan-Philipp Sendker, translated by Kevin Wiliarty
I think I will forever remember this book, perhaps not so much for the story, but for a single word: a blind young man sitting in the dark with hands running across the pages answers when asked what he’s doing … “Traveling.”
That, I believe, is a perfect literary moment.
But to get the full experience, you should, of course, read the entire debut novel. Long an international bestseller, The Art of Hearing Heartbeats arrives in English translation a whole decade after its native German publication. The title’s arduous journey Stateside as told by author Jan-Philipp Sendker, who was both American and Asian correspondent for the German newsmagazine Stern, is well worth a read.
Heartbeats begins with Julia, a young hapa Burmese American woman from New York, who arrives on the other side of the world in search of news about her father, a wealthy, powerful lawyer who disappeared four years ago without a word to his family. A single, unfinished letter has brought her to this remote Burmese village, to a local teahouse where she is surprised by an older man, U Ba, who seems to know far too much about her, who dares to ask, “‘Do you believe in love?’”
Over the following days, U Ba tells Julia a haunting story about a young boy, Tin Win, who is abandoned by his mother and raised by a caring neighbor. He loses his eyesight, but through his other senses gains a whole new world. Sent to the nearby monastery to study, he meets the young daughter of one of the temple staff, a girl whose crippled legs have never stopped her from living her life fully, whose beautiful heartbeat Tin Win recognizes immediately. The two are fated for eternity, even as their lives take separate paths.
For Julia to reunite with her estranged father, she must come to understand her relationship to this lovers’ tale, and to recognize the many different kinds of love – all true, sincere, lasting – that bind heartbeats together forever.
With Valentine’s Day just looming, this ‘little-novel-that-could-and-did’ is poised to hit bestseller lists sooner than later. The story’s simple (dare I say … blind?!) trust in the everlasting power of love guarantees Heartbeats‘ sweetness will last far longer than the empty calories of even the very best heart-shaped confections.
Readers: Adult
Published: 2012 (United States) Continue reading
Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Fiction, .Translation, Burmese, European, Hapa
Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity by Katherine Boo
Remember the title of Katherine Boo’s new book Behind the Beautiful Forevers: Life, Death, and Hope in a Mumbai Undercity, because you will see it on upcoming nominee lists for the next round of Very Important Literary Prizes. That Boo won the Pulitzer in 2000, a MacArthur “Genius” Fellowship in 2002, became a staff writer for The New Yorker in 2003 (contributor since 2001) after 10 years with The Washington Post, and is just now publishing her debut title, will guarantee media coverage. That Beautiful is an unforgettable true story, meticulously researched with unblinking honesty, will make Boo’s next awards well-deserved.
From November 2007 to March 2011, Boo became a regular fixture in Annawadi, “the sumpy plug of slum” next to the constantly-modernizing international Mumbai airport, and home to 3,000 inhabitants “packed into, or on top of 355 huts.” Settled in 1991 by Tamil Nadu laborers from southern India hired to repair an airport runway, 21st-century Annawadi sits “where New India collided with old India and made new India late.” Encircling Annawadi are “five extravagant hotels,” luxurious evidence of India’s growing global presence: “’Everything around us is roses,’” describes an Annawadian, “’And we’re the sh*t in between.’” In this fetid microcosm, everyday dramas range from petty jealousies to explosive violence fueled by religion, caste, and gender.
At the center of Boo’s story is garbage trafficker Abdul, the oldest son and prime earner of the 11-member Husain family who comprise almost one-third of Annawadi’s three-dozen Muslim population. Thoughtful, quiet Abdul, who is 16 or 19 – “his parents were hopeless with dates” – his ill father, and his older sister stand accused of beating their crippled neighbor One Leg and setting her on fire. For three years, the family is victimized by a labyrinthine legal system controlled by open palms constantly demanding payment.
Life continues in Annawadi: Asha, a lowly-paid kindergarten teacher, works her growing political connections toward escaping the slum, determined her daughter Manju will become Annawadi’s first college graduate. Manju’s best friend Meena wants something more than to be a trapped, arranged teenage bride: “Everything on television announced a new and better India for women,” but “marrying into a village family was like time-traveling backward.”
The toilet cleaner Mr. Kamble is literally dying to raise enough money for a new heart valve so he can continue to shovel sewage and feed his family. The tiny scavenger-turned-thief Sunil (first introduced to Western readers in Boo’s February 2009 New Yorker article) worries that he will remain forever stunted, but at least he’s not a “baldie” like his taller, younger sister whose rat bites have become “boils [that] erupted with worms.” Meanwhile, thieving Kalu recreates the latest Bollywood films with his talented impersonations, entertaining slum kids who will never witness such marvels themselves.
Mumbai, for its marvelous rebirth, remains the largest city in an India that, in spite of being “an increasingly affluent and powerful nation … still housed one-third of the poverty, and one-quarter of the hunger, on the planet.” With the wealth of India’s top 100-richest equaling almost a quarter of the country’s GDP, today’s gap between top and bottom is virtually unfathomable.
Having built her lauded career on capturing the experiences of those living in some of America’s poorest communities, Boo moves “beyond [her] so-called expertise” to her husband’s country of origin, ready to “compensate for my limitations the same way I do in unfamiliar American territory: by time spent, attention paid, documentation secured, accounts cross-checked.” Once the Annawadians accepted the novelty of her foreign presence, “they went more or less about their business as I chronicled their lives” on the page, on film, on audiotape, in photos.
Throughout such careful documentation, the one element missing – very much to her credit – is Boo herself. Beautiful is by no means a personal memoir; it is not a socioeconomic study on poverty, nor a political treatise on widespread corruption. Beautiful is pure, astonishing reportage with as unbiased a lens as possible about specific individuals who populate a clearly demarcated section of ever-changing Mumbai.
The details of Boo’s process – with a glimpse into her experiences – are added in the “Author’s Note” at book’s end. Further details about Boo follow in “A Conversation with Katherine Boo” conducted by Random House power editor Kate Medina. Before ever “meeting” Kate Boo, readers thoroughly experience Annawadi with Abdul, One Leg, Manju, Sunil, and so many memorable others. Boo’s presence as the silent reporter remains so discreet throughout that she virtually disappears as you journey deeper and deeper, unable to turn away.
Review: Christian Science Monitor, January 26, 2012
Readers: Adult
Published: 2012 Continue reading
Filed under ..Adult Readers, .Nonfiction, Indian, Nonethnic-specific
The World We Found by Thrity Umrigar + Author Interview
Here’s a moment of literary serendipity: on the morning my Bookslut interview with Luis Alberto Urrea went up, I happened to be finishing the galley of Thrity Umrigar‘s latest novel, The World We Found. Amazingly, here’s what appears in the penultimate paragraph on the very last page: “Thanks to Luis Alberto Urrea, whose definition of ‘the trembling ones,’ inspires my work.” What are the chances?
When I contacted Umrigar to set up our interview for this piece, she mentioned that she had just started Urrea’s Into the Beautiful North: “Howz that 4 coincidence?” she immediately replied. After a little nagging, she explained her “trembling” reference: “I heard Luis tell a story about his dad working as a janitor in a nearby bowling alley. And Luis was there with his friend but he didn’t acknowledge his dad. The friend didn’t know their relation and made fun of the ‘janitor’ and the father just stood there, mute, trembling with embarrassment. And Luis said something like, ‘here’s to the trembling ones.’ And I thought to myself that that was the best damn description of who I write for and why I write, that I’d ever heard. He’s so friggin’ brilliant, isn’t he?”
I, too, eventually recognized this story because I realized I was actually there: I moderated a panel almost a year ago at the 2011 AWP Conference, where I introduced Urrea and recognized Umrigar in the audience. Umrigar would, of course, become the best part of the post-presentation discussion that followed. She is, in live time, fiery, inquisitive, challenging … though occasionally she’ll give your brain a rest with her own brand of goofy fun.
On the page, Umrigar is equally fiery and challenging, although she is capable of wielding powerful control even while revealing the most wrenching moments in her resonating novels: dissolution of decades-long relationships in her debut Bombay Time (2001), utter betrayal in The Space Between Us (2006), the death of a beloved spouse and sudden uprooting in If Today Be Sweet (2007), and the unthinkable loss of a child in The Weight of Heaven (2009).
Readers of The World We Found are surely in for some “trembling” of their own. What might initially read like chick lit – four college friends are brought back together after almost 30 years of drifting apart to fulfill the dying wish of one of their own – evolves into an explosive, revelatory examination of class, gender, family … and the very extremes of religion.
Not yet 50, Armaiti is dying of a virulent brain tumor, and having seen her own mother suffer a horrible death, she decides she will hold on as long as she can to her quality of life and not be controlled by debilitating medical interventions. More than anything, Armaiti wants to reunite with the vibrant soulmates of her youth, her three closest friends who remained in Bombay. As university students together back in the 1970s, the fearless four were idealistic, devoted, ready to fight any and all injustice. Decades later, Laleh is a privileged wife and mother, Kavita is an accomplished in-demand international architect, and Nishta has all but disappeared. With the help of Laleh’s Mr. Fix-It-husband and in spite of the obstacles of Nishta’s fundamentalist spouse, Armaiti must get her final wish.
You’ve got some explosive content in this, your latest. No spoilers here, but that final scene in the airport is a shocker. Are you ready for the reactions you’re definitely going to get?
I’m not sure what you mean. Why is the scene a shocker? I mean, I understand that it’s meant to be a surprising twist – that was my intention – but I’m not trying to offend or insult any group. My main contention is that when individuals have power over others, more likely than not they will use, and abuse, that power. What reactions, and from whom, do you think I’ll get?
That was actually one of the details about this book that I admired most, that none of the characters were ever simply “good” or “bad,” and that even the “good” guys were not above falling prey to abusing their power. But back to that final scene, I don’t at all think you were intending to offend or insult any group! I’m convinced, though, that you’ll have readers who will have strong reactions to Adish’s inflammatory one-word solution to the situation at hand. Adish has been a calming, reassuring presence throughout most of the book, so it’s a shocker when he reacts as he does at the airport. Post-9/11, don’t you feel people have become hyperaware, even hypersensitive to certain trigger words and situations?
That’s great; I want them to have a strong reaction to his “one-word solution,” as you so delicately put it. My hope is that they will ask themselves what they would’ve done in this situation and whether the ends can ever justify the means.
Let’s back up a little: So when did you begin writing World? How did the story come to you?
The bare outlines of the story took shape after a chance meeting in India with a college friend I hadn’t seen in over 25 years. We were catching up on our lives and she mentioned that she had moved away from the activism of her college days after the Hindu-Muslim riots that tore apart Bombay in 1992-’93. It marked the end of her innocence, in a way. And although I was living in the U.S. by then, I remembered how the riots had affected me at a very deep level. It was almost as if the secular, easy-going, tolerant city we had grown up in, didn’t exist any more. So I could relate to her feelings, even though I disagreed with her conclusions. And then I asked myself questions about lost idealism and whether something of value still lingered from that era. And slowly, the book took shape. [... click here for more]
Author interview: Feature: “An Interview with Thrity Umrigar,” Bookslut.com, January 2012
Readers: Adult
Published: 2012 Continue reading
No Ordinary Day by Deborah Ellis
Canadian author Deborah Ellis has harnessed the power of words to create miraculous results: her multi-award-winning Breadwinner Trilogy (The Breadwinner, Parvana’s Journey, and Mud City) has raised over a million dollars in royalties for Canadian Women for Women in Afghanistan and Street Kid International. With her latest title, Ellis tackles leprosy, this time sending all her royalties to The Leprosy Mission Canada. In case you had any doubt, beyond her many good deeds, Ellis also writes really good books.
For independent Valli, the “best day” of her young life happens to be the day she leaves her home village of Jharia, India. What kept her there for her first nine or 10 years – she’s not quite sure how old she is – was what she thought was her family: “You stayed with your family because they were your family and families were supposed to stick together and care for each other.” But when Valli learns that her ‘aunt’ and ‘uncle’ were merely paid to take her in as a baby, she grabs her chance to escape an inevitable future – back-breaking work in the coal mines, too-large families, abusive and alcoholic husbands – that most of the village women are doomed to live. Hidden in the back of a coal truck, she drives off toward the unknown.
Valli arrives in Kolkata and narrowly escapes a life in a brothel. For awhile, she’s content to wander the streets, finding ways to “borrow” what she needs, enjoying an adventure here and there – diving for coins in the river, sleeping in cemeteries, escaping frustrated guards. Her bare feet that magically feel no pain in spite what should be debilitating injuries, keep her moving swiftly. But when she sees her future once more – city-style, this time – in the face of a begging woman with a thinly wailing baby, she realizes that she needs to find the kind doctor who tried to help her once before, even if it means facing the “monsters” in the hospital.
Once again, Ellis writes a poignant, penetrating story about the difficult challenges of being a girl in the developing world. If the Breadwinner Trilogy is any indication of No Ordinary Day‘s potential success, then sharing Valli’s story to benefit the Leprosy Mission will surely provide the real-life Vallis the much-needed chance to choose healthier, safer, more fulfilling lives.
Readers: Middle Grade, Young Adult
Published: 2011 Continue reading
Filed under ..Middle Grade Readers, ..Young Adult Readers, .Fiction, Canadian, Indian
20th Century Boys (vol. 18) by Naoki Urasawa, with the cooperation of Takashi Nagasaki, English adaptation by Akemi Wegmüller
“Guta-rara … suda-rara” might sound like nonsense, but these lyrics belong to the music that quite possibly could save what’s left of the 21st-century world …
Otcho reunites with Kanna, only to find out that she’s the people’s Ice Queen. He tries to convince her to call off the August 20th uprising against the Friends because such rebellion will only bring certain death. “Every person I’ve ever loved is dead!!” she screams, “… This time, it’s my turn!” She was tricked into taking the vaccine that saved her life, but the cost of survival has literally left her ready to die.
Meanwhile, at the Northern border, an alien who calls himself Yabuki Joe has managed to walk through the heavily guarded gates. Surrounded by armed soldiers ready to annihilate him, he gets up after the first shot (!) and growls, “… when somebody’s singing a song … you can’t shoot them.”
“Guta-rara” becomes a rallying cry, and the already gathering mob of desperate villagers is ready to believe a Messiah has landed in their midst. They’re more than ready to obey and follow, if only to hear his next concert. While he rides off into the mysterious yonder toward “home,” Otcho and Kanna end up in front of the Friends’ top henchman Manjome, and nothing goes as expected …
“Guta-rara … suda-rara” … let the music play on … at least for another two months when vol. 19 is set to debut (on Valentine’s Day). Repeat after me: Patience is a virtue, patience is a virtue (and yes, I’ve already pre-ordered up to vol. 21!).
Don’t miss the previous volumes of 20th Century Boys – click here.
Readers: Young Adult, Adult
Published: 2011 (United States)
20 SEIKI SHONEN © Naoki Urasawa/Studio Nuts
Original Japanese edition published by Shogakukan Inc. Continue reading
Stargazing Dog by Takashi Murakami, translated by Atsuko Saisho and Spencer Fancutt
Much to my children’s dismay (and longing), we don’t have a dog (allergies). I am, however, so lucky to have a regular canine companion, Z, whose mother brings her on our twice-a-week hikes through the woods. As I was sniffling and snuffling through this heartfelt manga last night, I couldn’t have been more grateful about seeing Z this morning!
Stargazing Dog is quite the effective reminder of how important the four-legged family members are in our lives … and that perhaps no other animal is as devoted and loving, not to mention so forgiving, as our dogs (my Z included). Google “devoted dogs” and you’ll get hundreds of hits, one of the latest about Hawkeye, who wouldn’t leave the casket of his late Navy SEAL owner last August. Oh, but I digress …
As a small puppy found in a box, Happie joins a family of three: “Mom fed me everyday, [daughter] Miku played with me occasionally, but it was always Daddy who took me for a walk.” As the years pass – seven at time for Happie – Miku grows up and away, Daddy loses his job, and Mom suddenly files for divorce. Daddy and Happie pack everything they have left over from their broken family life into the back of the car, and set off on a journey that will last the rest of their lifetimes.
[Sort-of spoiler warning!] Halfway through the book, Daddy and Happie turn out to be the nameless man and dog whose lifeless bodies are found in the story’s opening pages. You know from the third page that Daddy died a full-year-and-three-months before Happie … just how tenderly Happie waited by Daddy’s side will shatter your heart.
The story’s second half follows Okutsu, a social worker assigned to Daddy’s case, as he attempts to discover Daddy’s identity. With the help of a found pawn shop ticket, he retraces Daddy and Happie’s final seacoast adventure, all the while remembering his own childhood with this beloved grandparents, and the dog his grandfather left him who gave him nothing less than unconditional love: “I should’ve played with him more. I should’ve taken more time for a walk with him. … I shouldn’t have been afraid to love him more …”
In the book’s final two pages, creator Takashi Murakami (not to be confused with the artist with the same name) adds a somber “Afterword”: “‘Daddy’ in this story wasn’t really a bad guy who would deserve to die such a miserable death. … [He] was a normal, simple kind of person. It’s just that he was a little too lazy to adapt to change at home and in society … In the past, he would have been an ordinary, good father. However, in today’s environment, it’s adapt or die. And that’s not right. I really feel fed up with this hideous situation.”
Murakami’s debut story surely caught the Japanese public’s attention: it sold some 560,000 copies, became a major bestseller, and is apparently in the midst of a film adaptation. But read it before the international media blitz hits Stateside … savor it now. Then go find your favorite four-legged buddy and give him/her the same endless love he/she offers you 24/7. It’s never too late … well, until it’s too late … so don’t delay!
Tidbit: According to publisher NBM’s blog post for today, Stargazing Dog has gone back to press “to correct a couple typos some reviewers have given us maybe a bit too much grief over.” I wasn’t one of them, I swear! NBM also adds that some of the challenges of deciding to flip reading directions [the original Japanese reads back to front (by Western standards); if you read Japanese, you'll notice all the words in the panels are backwards] have been ”[r]ectified now!” So no more complaining!
Readers: Young Adult, Adult
Published: 2011 (United States) Continue reading
The Princess and the Peanut: A Royally Allergic Fairytale by Sue Ganz-Schmitt, illustrated by Micah Chambers-Goldberg
Quick: Growing up, how many kids did you know who carried epi-pens? I can’t think of a single child (I’m dating myself, I’m sure), except for silly me, but mine were for bee stings. That certainly is not the case now! Our daughter was always one of the many students with epi-pens stored with the school nurse for years (luckily, miraculously, she outgrew her peanut allergy in middle school).
As unique as I think our daughter is, she’s one of millions of kids in the U.S. with food allergies … exact numbers vary, but all agree that the prevalence of food allergies is definitely growing. Peanuts, of course, are at the top of the list for being the most common food allergy.
Thanks to author Sue Ganz-Schmitt, allergies get a royal makeover in one of the most cleverly entertaining re-inventions of a classic fairytale ever. Gorgeous, richly detailed illustrations from Micah Chambers-Goldberg imbue the story with utter charm and delightful humor.
A sweet, goofy prince is searching for the perfect princess. He has no luck until a lost stranger arrives at the castle on a late rainy night. She turns out to be allergic to the peanut hidden under many mattresses (because the castle is just plain out of peas), and a doctor is rushed in with a dose of epinephrine. The princess quickly recovers, the prince recognizes his soulmate (and vice-versa) and gives up even his favorite snack– peanut butter – to remain close by her side. He makes sure to wash his hands when he asks for hers (in marriage). The castle goes all peanut- and tree nut-free and everyone is sure to live happily ever after.
Younger readers will definitely enjoy the adventure, but adults just might have even more fun: the creators both have a subversive, multi-layered sense of humor and really know how get you to giggle and guffaw right along (no spoilers here; you deserve to discover the glee all on your own). The final two pages of the book are helpfully filled with useful information for parents, teachers, caregivers as a necessary reminder that food allergies are never a laughing matter.
Readers: Children
Published: 2011 Continue reading
Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Nonethnic-specific
Tashi and the Tibetan Flower Cure by Naomi C. Rose
Tashi’s beloved grandfather – her Popola – has been sick in bed for two weeks. “’The doctor’s doing all she can,’” her mother assures Tashi. But Tashi soon realizes that what will help Popola most may not be medical at all.
Tashi asks Popola about how people in his home village in Tibet use flowers to cure illness: “‘Pollen from flowers can help heal,’” he explains. Inspired, Tashi sets to work on a local flower cure with the help of her best friend Ben. In spite of Popola’s protestations that “‘without the magic of our land and people,’” a flower cure is not possible, Tashi refuses to give up.
Her search leads her to Mr. Wong’s nursery nearby, with gorgeous blooms as far as the eyes can see. That weekend, Tashi and her mother pack a basket of black tea, butter, salt – for Tibetan-style tea – and, of course, some cookies. They bundle Popola into the car and take him to Mr. Wong’s colorful haven. Sharing their tea and cookies with friendly strangers encourages a little bit of local magic to blossom … the flowers and the new friends all come together to help Popola get better soon!
Inspired by “the true story of a Tibetan American refugee and the flower cure that was traditionally used in his village,” author/illustrator Naomi C. Rose creates a gentle immigration story celebrating multi-generational family bonds. While young Tashi is a product of her hybrid world – a Tibetan American comfortable in her own skin – she empathetically recognizes the emotional challenges of her immigrant grandfather.
Although their American home is filled with many Tibetan reminders – some of the language, the prayers, the beautiful thangka (Tibetan scroll paintings of the sacred) – Tashi knows that what’s missing most for Popola is a sense of community. Her attempts to recreate the flower cure for her beloved grandfather ultimately becomes a journey of finding, growing, and nurturing connections.
Regardless of our backgrounds, we could all use a little more of that!
Readers: Children
Published: 2011 Continue reading
Filed under ..Children/Picture Books, .Fiction, Tibetan American
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