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We have deeply enjoyed hosting the Tiger’s Choice, the PaperTigers’ online bookgroup, over the past year–it introduced us to a number of interesting books, a group of authors whom we hadn’t read before, and a collection of new friends from around the globe who joined in our discussions.

Nancy Farmer, Uma Krishnaswami, Ken Mochizuki, Minfong Ho, Jane Vejjajiva, Julia Alvarez, John Boyne,  Katia Novet Saint-Lot are all authors whom we plan to return to again and again for reading that expands our cultural horizons. As their body of work increases, the Tiger’s Bookshelf will be there–to read, to praise, to cheer them on.

We will however be doing this in another form rather than through the Tiger’s Choice. As exciting and rewarding as it has been to explore books through this avenue, we have new plans for the Tiger’s Bookshelf that do not include our bookgroup. We thank all of you who have read this portion of our blog, and who have joined in the discussions, and hope that you will continue to be part of the ongoing conversation that will take place on the PaperTigers Blog, and through the Tiger’s Bookshelf!

We don’t often think of picture books when we think of book group titles, but this month the Tiger’s Choice offers a picture book. It’s one that is an ideal selection for adults and children to read and discuss together–created by two men, Ken Mochizuki and Dom Lee,  who have provided a new defintion of what picture books can be.

Heroes follows their stunning debut, Baseball Saved Us, with a story as powerful and as provocative as that examination of the Japanese internment in the United States during World War Two. This time the story looks at peacetime America, and the difficulty of overcoming the vicious stereotyping that is the collateral damage of war.

One of the most moving and heroic stories from World War Two is the history of the Japanese American men who enlisted in the U.S. Army and formed the 442nd Regimental Combat Team, fighting in Europe and becoming  “one of the most highly decorated units in U.S. Army history”–even though many of them had family members confined behind barbed wire fences in desolate internment camps. The strength of these soldiers’ patriotism and the bravery of their military exploits makes my hair stand on end when I read about them–and so does this book.

When Donnie plays war with the other kids, he’s always the enemy because, he’s told, “there wasn’t anybody looking like you on our side.” He knows that isn’t true. He’s heard his father and uncle talk about their time  in the Army ; he’s seen their war medals. Yet he’s told, “Real heroes don’t brag” and “You kids should be playing something else besides war.”

But the war games don’t stop–they become more real and more frightening–and Donnie needs help.

Please read this book and add your comments to our final Tiger’s Choice discussion.

Tonight I read Shin-chi’s Canoe by Nicola Campbell, illustrated by Kim LaFave to my daughter.  The story is a follow-up to Campbell’s earlier book Shi-shi-etko which narrates the story of a young aboriginal girl, Shi-shi-etko, as she is separated from her family at the age of six to attend a residential school.  In Shin-chi’s Canoe, Campbell returns to the same family but now it is time for Shi-shi-etko’s brother, Shin-chi to go to the same school with his sister.  Shin-chi is given a little carved canoe as a parting gift from his father and the boat will serve as a reminder during the cold cruel months ahead of a request Shin-chi has made of his father: namely, to build a dugout canoe for him when he returns home at the beginning of summer.

When this book arrived at our house, my daughter was immediately taken by it.  She and her classmates were all building boats to be launched at a nearby creek.  Can I show this book to my teacher?  She asked right away.  But we haven’t read it yet, I said.  We’ll read it tonight, I promise. At bedtime we curled up into bed and read Shin-Chi’s Canoe.  My daughter remained silent through the reading and at the end, she made a comment that struck me.  While I concentrated mostly on the social injustice of the aboriginal residential school experience, my daughter remembered instead the request Shin-chi made of his father, namely, the promise that he would have his own canoe by the end of that first year away at school.  See, his Daddy’s making the canoe just like Shin-chi asked, my daughter said.  Quite frankly, caught up as I was with the bigger social issue presented by the book, I had forgotten that simple request. I was amazed and humbled by my daughter’s observation. Truly, children have their own unique perspective.  That is why reading to them at bedtime can be so hugely rewarding.

Incidentally, November is National American Indian Heritage Month in the United States.  The story of Shin-chi and Shi-shi-etko is a great way to start educating young people about the history of aboriginal childrens lives in North America.

The October Carnival of Children’s Literature is in full swing with the theme of Snuggle Up with a Children’s Book (great advice for any month of the year!) at The Well-Read Child, where Amy from Kids Love Learning tells How to Create a “Book Addict”, Heather at Age 30+…A Lifetime of Books reports on her Mom and Son Book Club, and Megan reviews Hip Hop Speaks to Children by Nikki Giovanni at Read, Read, Read. Our PaperTigers blog has joined in the fun with Marjorie’s Books at Bedtime discussion of Fiesta Femenina.

Be sure to go to the Carnival, which next month will feature The Gift of Reading and will be hosted by Mommy’s Favorite Children’s Books.

Within the opening chapters of Finding Miracles, readers soon realize that within a conventional high school setting, a young girl who does her best to appear conventional is under tremendous pressure to maintain that appearance. Milly is pretty, smart, popular, and plagued by a skin allergy that breaks out when “her real self” threatens to emerge.

Milly was born Milagros, adopted by her parents in an (undisclosed) country of Latin America where they served as Peace Corps volunteers. All that she has from her birth parents is kept in a handcrafted mahogany box, which was found with her when she was left at an orphanage as a newborn infant. Millie ignores these remnants from her origins, living her North American life with the only family she has ever known, until a handsome political refugee from her birth country, Pablo, comes to her high school as a new student.

At first this book seems as though it will be a typical high school “girl meets boy” story, but Julia Alvarez is far too skillful a novelist to stick to this well-worn territory. Swiftly the reader is drawn into Milly’s expanding world, as she reveals her adoption to her friends, begins to explore her origins through her friendship with Pablo and his parents, and learns that her most distinctive feature, her beautiful eyes, are inherited from the women of Los Luceros, a village in her home country.

As Milly returns to visit the country of her birth, Finding Miracles takes on a tone rarely found in young adult fiction, illuminating political repression, struggle, and rebellion through the stories of the women of Los Luceros, one of whom was Millie’s mother–but which one?  And does it really matter?

In her journey to learn how to be Milagros as well as Milly, this extraordinary young woman learns that her home can be in two countries and that family is an expandable concept, encompassing the parents she knows and loves as well as the parents who loved her and whom she will never know. The issues that she comes to terms with are presented in this novel as threads in a compelling story, examined thoughtfully while never overwhelming the plot, providing springboards for discussion between students and teachers, children and parents, or girls who read and enjoy the book together with their friends.

Since we are already in the middle of National Reading Group Month, our thoughts have turned to reading suggestions for book groups for young readers. At PaperTigers, we are deeply committed to books on multicultural subjects that bring differing cultures closer together. So of course the books on our little list are novels that we think will accomplish that, while they keep their readers enthralled and provide the nourishment for spirited book group discussions. Almost all of the suggested titles are in paperback editions and all should be available in libraries. Most of them have been reviewed by PaperTigers and one has been chosen by our own online bookclub, The Tiger’s Choice.

1. Beacon Hill Boys by Ken Mochizuki (Written for older readers, this novel explores teenage rebellion, parental expectations, and racial stereotypes with humor and perception. This is a perfect book for boys who are reluctant readers–by the end of the first page they’ll be hooked.)

2. On Thin Ice by Jamie Bastedo (Through entries in Ashley’s diary that she keeps while visiting family in an Inuit village, this book addresses the issue of climate change in Arctic Canada, where the polar bears are coming far too close for comfort.)

3. Woolvs in the Sitee by Margaret Wild (Who are the “woolvs” who terrify Ben and keep him sequestered in a place where he is safe from them? This is a title for older readers that falls into the realm of picture book/graphic novel, and one that will keep them reading.)

4. Kira Kira by Cynthia Kadohata (Winner of the  2005 Newbery Medal, this is a novel that takes a serious look at serious issues, through the lives of an extended Japanese-American family who are struggling in tough times.)

5. Cinnamon Girl: Letters Found Inside a Cereal Box by Juan Felipe Herrera (The tragedy of 9/11 as seen through the eyes and voice of thirteen-year-old Yolanda, whose uncle had “inhaled Twin Towers of dust,” while delivering flowers at the moment that the planes struck.)

6. The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne (This is a book group selection for all ages, and when we chose it for our own book group, the discussion was thoughtful and lively–much to think about in this slender little volume.)

And there is our baker’s half-dozen–what suggested titles would you add to this little list? Let us know!

This month marks the second annual celebration of book groups as the Women’s National Book Association launches National Reading Group Month. Across the United States, publishers, bookstores, libraries, authors, and readers are all coming together to show their appreciation of the act of shared and thoughtful reading.

At PaperTigers, we are excited and happy that book groups are receiving the attention that they deserve, and that blogs all over the country are providing helpful tips for successful meetings and lists of suggested titles. We hope, as we all pay attention to book groups, that we pay particular attention to book groups for young readers.

It’s easy for reading to take a back seat to all of the other activities and preoccupations that usurp our free time, and for no one is that more true than for children. By making reading a sociable and scheduled activity, we give it a special priority that assures that it won’t get lost in the shuffle of daily life, and by coming together to discuss what we have read in a group of friends, we find ourselves reading more slowly, more thoughtfully, and with great pleasure. What better way is there for our children to spend their time than to share what they have read with friends who have read it too?

We at PaperTigers have our own book group, The Tiger’s Choice, where adults and children come together online to read and discuss a book that all ages can read with equal pleasure. Over the past ten months, we have explored different cultures and different countries from Cambodia to Germany during World War Two. We read with the desire to bring the world closer, and to make multicultural literacy a global undertaking, not merely a national one. We believe that children who learn to appreciate and understand the cultures of other countries will grow to be people who will live harmoniously and respectfully in the world.

As we celebrate National Reading Group Month, we invite you to join our own reading group, and ask you to let us know what reading groups you offer for children. What are you reading? What has worked for your reading group and what has not? Let’s talk!

Finding Miracles

Milly Kaufman is the typical American high school girl, pretty, popular, part of a happy family in a small town. So why, when asked to write two truthful details about herself, does she say, “I have this allergy where my hands get red and itchy when my real self’s trying to tell me something,”  “My parents have a box in their bedroom we’ve only opened once. I think of it as The Box,” and why does the appearance of Pablo, a new student from Latin America make her feel so uncomfortable? What is Milly’s secret–the one she has divulged only to her best friend?

Julia Alvarez, long acclaimed as an outstanding novelist for adult readers, turns her focus upon a young adult audience in Finding Miracles with the same skill that has made both In the Time of the Butterflies and How The Garcia Girls Lost Their Accents modern classics. While exploring Milly’s odyssey from the security of the family and community that she knows and loves to the unknown territory of a whole new world, Julia Alvarez creates a character and a novel that extends beyond age categories into the realm of fiction unlimited, while sensitively examining issues of identity and culture.

Please join us this month as we read and discuss Finding Miracles.

As I finish my preparations to return to Bangkok, I find myself thinking about this month’s Tiger’s Choice. The Happiness of Kati depicts a lifestyle that I have never seen in Thailand, and I find myself wondering if it is a realistic depiction.

Kati and her grandparents live as people in Thailand have for centuries–up until the present day. Their world is clean and quiet and filled with the blessings of nature. When Kati and her grandfather go out in their boat, they row through unpolluted waterways that Kati can dabble her toes in after she and her grandfather finish their picnic lunch. They live in a world untarnished by satellite dishes, cable TV, or mobile phones. There’s not a fast food venue or a 7/11 convenience store in sight. It is a world of the past that all Thai people yearn to return to, and it is portrayed in loving and idealized detail in Jane Vejjajiva’s novel.

And yet within this ideal world, harsh truths intrude and are handled fearlessly. Death, disease, desertion–these are examined carefully and unshrinkingly, through the eyes of a little girl and the family who loves her. It is the softened world that Kati lives in that makes it possible to look at grief and loss with a feeling of acceptance and hope. And it is the well-constructed characters who take life within a matter of sentences who take this book well beyond the realm of moral instruction into the enduring community of classic children’s literature.

When Jane Vejjajiva won the S.E.A. Write Award for The Happiness of Kati, it was quite a bit as though J.K. Rowling had won the Man Booker Prize for Harry Potter. This is a highly prestigious award given for extraordinary literature written in Southeast Asia, and it isn’t usually bestowed upon a  children’s book.

And yet this isn’t a book that is read exclusively by children. I received it as a Christmas gift from my good friend Yui, who is younger than I am but is certainly no longer a child. We both count it as one of our favorite books–and here are some reasons why.

From the opening sentences of this book, Kati’s life is described simply and yet in wonderful detail. Her grandparents, her school, her chores, her meals are all real to the reader well before the first twenty pages have been devoured. And yet, a sadness is slowly delineated in every chapter subheading–Kati’s absent mother takes on a phantom’s shape long before Kati is taken to be with her.

It is here that this book blossoms into a strength and beauty rarely found in a children’s novel. Kati’s time with her mother is brief, but their relationship has depth, sweetness, and a life of its own. The importance of family within Thai culture is made beautifully clear, and the respect given to a child’s decision offers an ethical guideline without moralizing.

Best of all–for me at least–is the masterful depiction of each person in this story. With a minimum of description, Jane Vejjajiva makes every one of her characters come to life, fully equipped to live on in the imaginations of those who savor this book.

If you agree–or perhaps disagree–please let us hear your comments before our final discussion next week.

Books that tell me what people wear, what they eat, and how they spend their time have delighted me since I first began to read, so perhaps this is why I love The Happiness of Kati. Like The Wind in the Willows and The Little House in the Big Woods, this small novel about a small Thai girl and her family has enlarged my world by describing a different way of  living.

And yet in the descriptions of a rural Thai childhood, there are hints given at the beginning of each chapter that there is a sorrowful mystery at the heart of Kati’s seemingly idyllic life, and when that mystery is divulged, the story carries the weight of loss and sorrow.

As the jacket flap informs readers, Jane Vejjajiva is the daughter of a doctor who researches Lou Gehrig’s disease (amyotrophic lateral sclerosis), and this knowledge informs much of her story. In addition to this, Jane Vejjajiva was born with cerebral palsy, building a career as a writer, translator and publisher, traveling and studying abroad, and living a life filled with accomplishment and challenges. When she writes about disease and disability, she is well acquainted with these subjects, and depicts them without sentimemtality or mawkishness.

I am always struck when I read this book by the sensitive and skillful treatment of themes not usually found in middle-grade fiction in the United States. What do you think? Is this a book you would share with your child, your classroom? Tell us why–or why not!

This month on PaperTigers, the question was posed, “And what better way to become globally literate than by exploring stories set in different cultures, whether next door or on the other side of the globe?”

This is a haunting question, especially when considered with the remarks made earlier this year by writer Lara Saguisag.

She pointed out that books written for children contain the values of the culture in which they were written, and that these books are often viewed through the prism of Western values and Western cultural norms.

Our current Tiger’s Choice, The Happiness of Kati, was rejected by a smart champion of middle-grade fiction because, she said, “It just didn’t grab me.” Her remark made me wonder how many books are cast aside because the unfamiliar cultural values made the characters seem too simplistic and the story too laden with a moral message that in American culture seems too heavy-handed.

If we in the world are going to understand each other, then we must do our very best to understand our different cultural values–and what better way to do that then through literature? And what better time to do that than in childhood?

Children need books that are windows and books that are mirrors, as Patsy Aldana was quoted as saying in a recent PaperTigers post. It would be a great mistake to dismiss a book  because its cultural values are distant from our own. The adventure promised by reading is not only that of enjoying the delights of a well-told story, but also of increasing our empathy and understanding, as our world draws closer together and becomes more intimately acquainted through the pages of a book.

Nine-year-old Kati lives an idyllic life in rural Thailand, cherished by her grandparents, surrounded by people who care about her, a modern girl whose days are shaped by customs that are steeped in tradition. Her world is secure and she is happy, except for the nights when storms blow in, lightning fills the sky and following the rumbles of thunder, Kati can hear cries of “heart-stopping despair” mingled with the sound of the rain.

Nothing in her life has ever been tinged with the sadness Kati hears in these cries–or has it? Is her imagination playing tricks on her or are these sounds emerging from forgotten memories? When Kati discovers the answer to these questions, she also discovers joy and the true meaning of family, as well as grief that few girls her age have to face.

This slender little book illuminates another culture while exploring the universality of love and loss. The 2006 winner of Thailand’s S.E.A. Write Award that is given annually for outstanding Southeast Asian literature, this is a novel that celebrates life’s everyday pleasures as thoroughly as it examines some of its deepest questions.

Please join us in reading and discussing The Happiness of Kati.

For me, The Clay Marble has always seemed a book for all ages, and an important introduction to modern Cambodian history, to Cambodian culture, and to the nightmare years of the Khmer Rouge ascendancy. As Minfong Ho explains in her introduction, she worked with the people she depicts in this novel, she had grown up in Southeast Asia, and she writes about Dara, Jantu, and their families with first-hand knowledge and with love.

The more I read this book, the more struck I am with the way that traditional Cambodian values are described, as well as the destruction to those values that was attempted by the Khmer Rouge. The importance of family, of community, of sharing, of rice planting and harvests are all made stunningly clear in this deceptively simple and powerful story.

Although I’ve read this book often, I’ve never approached it with Marjorie’s fearlessness. She read it aloud over the past month to her two sons, as she explains here.

” Well, we finished reading The Clay Marble about 10 days ago. At the time we were all shocked and upset by the ending and I thought I would leave it a few days before asking the boys what they wanted to say about it. It does mean that their immediate reactions are lost but both of them highlighted Friendship as something that stood out for them. The setting in terms of the war has had more of an impact on Older Brother. Little Brother was much more caught up in the narrative in terms of what was happening to Dara and the other characters. Anyway, here, verbatim, is what they said about it:

Older Brother (nearly 10): “I thought the Clay Marble was very interesting because it was based on things that really happened; and quite horrible at the same time because some people had lost their legs and got infections - things like that. When Jantu died I felt very sad, especially because I thought it was disgusting that she was shot by one of the soldiers that was supposed to be protecting her. She’d been a very good friend in the story.

When Sarun was coming to the Border and for quite a while at the Border, he was always talking about planting crops and building a home for the family but then after a few weeks he was going to join the army at their camp. Then he didn’t want to go home; he didn’t want to plant crops - he wanted to stay there and be a soldier. He wanted to shoot. He thought it made him be a man. He felt like a man, not just a young lad. Why does a rifle, some bullets, some clothing, some fighting - what’s it got to do with being a man? You might die.

Everyone was scared and had to keep moving around. I felt scared for the children who lost their parents.

I thought it was quite funny that Dara believed that the clay marble was really magic, but the extraordinary thing is that when she closed her hand around it, it gave her courage.”

Little Brother (7 and a 1/2): “The Clay Marble makes me think about friendship. Some of the grown-ups were very mean because they were bombing the Border and the refugees and not just the enemy’s soldiers. The fighting made Sarun stop thinking about growing his crops and they had to have more bombings.

It made me very sad when Jantu died. She was gifted and she helped Dara believe in herself. Dara was very brave.”

I think that although Little Brother especially was quite young to be taking in all of the inferences of the story, I don’t think they were too young and they were both completely caught up in it. They were horrified to hear about how close to reality it was. The small map at the beginning was brilliant and we referred back to it many times. We read the introduction afterwards and again, they were struck that there really had been a clay marble.

Yes, I found it emotionally draining. Fortunately I had read ahead so was not having to deal with my own reactions at the same time as the boys’! We read the last few chapters in one sitting the morning after we’d read about Dara finding Jantu and the Baby in the hospital. The boys were both stunned when Jantu was shot. They were indignant and upset, and furious with the way Sarun behaved afterwards - as was I! I think the ending was managed beautifully because, after all, this is a story written with a young audience in mind. Sarun did not lose face but was able to take up his role as head of the family and the story ends with a message of hope - emphasised by the epilogue of Dara “now”, a few years later and a mother herself. A novel for an adult audience wouldn’t get away with being so tidy at the end - but Minfong Ho delivers a riveting story and instills in her young audience the idea of the futility and randomness of war at a level they can absorb, without ever having to state it explicitely: and that is why I think it’s a fine book.”

If you haven’t explored The Clay Marble, please do pick it up–and then share it with others. It, like the best of novels, illuminates the present while explaining the past–and could possibly change the future.

Eleven years ago I made my first visit to Cambodia and fell in love. I was in Phnom Penh, which in 1997 was a city of hope, and the mood of joyous optimism that pervaded its streets was irresistible. The man who was my motorcycle taxi driver during my visit was a man whose smile touched his eyes but did not erase the omnipresent sadness that lived in them. His parents had been killed during the years of Pol Pot when he was just entering his teens, and he refused to accompany me when I entered the grounds of Tuol Sleng, the school that had been turned into a torture chamber , because that is the place that had made him an orphan. He took care of his younger brother as best as he could and they both survived.

He took me to his house in the rural outskirts of the city so I could meet his wife, his two small sons, and his baby daughter. His children all gleamed with the love that he gave them, healthy and happy. At one point during my time with them, my host tapped the side of a large and bulging burlap bag. “Rice,” he said proudly, “We eat it every day.”

When I read and reread The Clay Marble, it brings this memory so strongly to mind that I often find that I am in tears. Minfong Ho evokes the hunger of that dreadful time–for food, for family, for community, for the ability to know that a harvest of rice will soon be reaped, for the safety to sleep in one’s own house with safe and happy children close by.

Obviously I have emotional baggage that I bring with me to this book–would it have the same impact if I had not fallen in love with Cambodia? What about you? Does this book move you or is does it feel contrived? Is it an issue in search of a story or does it bring the refugee experience to life? Please let us all know what you think…

Fleeing the horror that has turned her home in Cambodia into a battleground filled with death and starvation, twelve-year-old Dara and what is left of her family cross the border into neighboring Thailand and the safety of Nong Chan, a camp for Cambodian refugees. Quickly they become absorbed into the life of “a vast barren field teeming with refugees” which “had the feel of our village during the years of peace before the fighting started.”
This is a place with enough food for all, where Dara’s family joins forces with the family of Jantu, a girl who becomes Dara’s friend. Jantu has the gift of magic hands; she is able to turn clay and leftover scraps into toys and she makes Dara a clay marble that contains the magic and power that are badly needed in these troubled times. Even more magical and powerful are the bags of rice seeds that are given to the refugees and carry the promise of future crops in their abandoned fields in Cambodia. Dara and Jantu’s families dream of feeding themselves once again in Cambodia, but even in the safety of the refugee camp, war interferes brutally with their plans.
Written by Minfong Ho, who worked as a volunteer in refugee camps along the Thai-Cambodian border in 1980, this book has become a classic since it appeared in 1991. Dara and Jantu, with their determination and courage, are characters who reach beyond borders and age barriers to show readers what it means to become refugees and how hope can bring people back to their homes. Please join us in reading and discussing The Clay Marble in July.

Bruno, in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, is one of the more problematic fictional characters whom I’ve found within the pages of a book. While Corinne said in her comments that she thinks his character is realistic, since he is a nine-year-old boy who has led a sheltered life, has an overbearing older sister, and lives in a time when there was no television or internet, I found his inability to understand his own language, as shown by his persistent usage of The Fury for the Fuhrer and Outwith for Auschwitz, to be unconvincing, contrived, and essentially unnecessary. However, it’s certainly true that without television and other mass media we could all be as uninformed and as naive as Bruno and that sometimes a character is more an instrument to advance a story’s plot than a breathing, convincing entity.

And Bruno certainly does advance the plot of this story. It’s a page-turner. As Corinne says, ” Once I started it, there was no way I could put it down until I had finished it.” I gulped it down as well and was relieved to know that this is the way the author intends for the book to be read.

Bruno’s simplified way of looking at the world around him makes this a good introduction to the Holocaust for children who know little about this time in history, and could work well in a classroom setting where there would be immediate answers to the questions that arise.

As an adult, I was annoyed by “red herring” portions of the book that were brought up and then never fully explored. Lieutenant Kotler is grilled by Bruno’s father over dinner one evening about the reason for Kotler’s father leaving Germany in 1938. Is Kotler’s father a Jew? A dissident? Who knows? It is never explained and left me wondering why the scene took place. It doesn’t seem to play a part in Kotler’s subsequent disappearance, which Corinne attributes to Kotler’s closeness to Bruno’s mother.

The shocking ending of this book comes so closely after Bruno’s betrayal of Shmuel and Shmuel’s subsequent punishment for stealing food that it could be wondered if Shmuel had intended for Bruno to stay behind the fence forever. Although Bruno is sheltered and naive, Shmuel understands the differences between the two boys, especially after living in the camp for a year. Corinne, on the other hand, says “Yes - I think Shmuel intended for Bruno to return home. I don’t think either boy had any idea what would happen or the risks they were taking when Bruno crawled under the fence.”

This is a book that bears discussion and I hope that it will be chosen for book groups, classrooms, and family read-alouds for years to come.
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If sunlight and warmth have hit the almost-polar regions of the Pacific Northwest, then it must be summer everywhere in this hemisphere–time for lemonade, picnics, beaches, long days spent outdoors, and lots and lots of books!

Summer reading is its own special category of literature–it’s the time of year when we remember that books are instruments of delight and amusement. It’s also the time of year when so many other things compete for our time and attention that reading sometimes is put aside until autumn and the required reading lists roll around.

When The Papertigers blog first began, Corinne had a wonderful post that discussed summer reading programs presented by libraries (which, Marjorie told us, also takes place in England under the wonderful name of “reading schemes.” Wouldn’t you rather scheme than take part in a program?) and said that she and her children celebrated the end of school by going to their library, signing up for the reading program, and going home laden with books. What a splendid way to mark the beginning of summer!

Of course not everyone lives near a library that offers such a program–I certainly didn’t when I was a child–or perhaps a crowded schedule of sports, summer camp, and family vacations prevent participation in a library program. For these people, we invite you to make The Tiger’s Choice your summer reading program. It fits into any schedule since you can comment when you are ready, on your computer, at any time of the day or night. It welcomes readers of all ages who love children’s literature, so you can discuss books with your friends, your parents, or even your teacher! It’s also a great way for youth group leaders to supplement their own summer activities with discussions about books, or for educators to stay in touch with their students.

If the monthly selections don’t appeal to you, tell us what you are reading on your own and why you like it–you may help someone else to find a new favorite author. (This is what happened to kids who responded to our Asking the Kids questionnaire–Geronimo Stilton and Young James Bond now have new readers.)

We’ll keep track of your suggestions and comments–when the end of August comes around we hope all of us will have found new books to love and new ways at looking at old favorites. Please join us!

And please add your comments to our discussion of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, which will end as June draws to a close.

John Boyne says that he likes it when people read The Boy in the Striped Pajamas “in one or two sittings, over a couple of hours maybe…Because that, in a way, is how I wrote it.” That’s exactly the way I read this book, without stopping, in an hour or two, because once I began I couldn’t stop. Did this book pull you in from the first page, or did it take time before you were completely absorbed? If so, what part first pulled you in to the story?

Bruno incompletely understands the world around him and expresses his lack of understanding through puns. Was this something that enhanced the story for you or did it annoy you?

Do you think Bruno is a realistic portrayal of a nine-year-old boy, or is he young for his age? Do you think nine-year-olds today are more mature, and if so, why?

Why did Lieutenant Kotler disappear?

Do you think that Shmuel intended for Bruno to return home from their final meeting?

This is a book that left me yearning to talk about it. Please respond with your own questions and observations so we can continue this discussion next week.

My friend Holly who is an ardent and gifted bookseller of children’s literature put The Boy in the Striped Pajamas into my hands when I asked her which recently-read children’s book resonated and lingered with her long after she had put it down. She is a woman whose taste is beyond impeccable so I took her recommendation home with me, read it, and months later am still haunted by it.

Because it is a book that falls outside of the usual geographical boundaries that mark books recommended and reviewed by Papertigers, and because it is a disturbing work of fiction, I didn’t immediately feature it as a Tiger’s Choice for children and adults to read together. Then I talked to my friend and colleague Corinne about it. She immediately read it and gave it to her eleven-year-old son, so they could discuss it, and I begged to be part of their conversation when it took place.

And that clinched it–if this book had this effect on Holly, Corinne and me, all women of different ages and backgrounds, and if Corinne instantly passed it on to her son, it is a book that merits discussion by a wider audience–and here we are.

I think the author would be happy to know that it has been chosen as a book for both adults and children to talk about in a forum where everyone has equal footing. John Boyne remarked in the interview at the end of The Boy in the Striped Pajamas, “I’m not entirely sure I know what the difference is between a children’s book and an adults’ book,” and then quotes a friend’s question, “What is Treasure Island?”

There will be no questions posed about this book until we begin to discuss it after June 15th because it is crucial that we all come to our own conclusions in our very own ways. In explaining why it is a book that has world-wide importance, John Boyne says, “Fences such as the one in The Boy in the Striped Pajamas still exist; it is unlikely that they will ever fully disappear.” Perhaps if enough people talk about this book, and other novels that address the same issue, we may someday live in a world without fences.

When we began to think about creating an online book group that would appeal to readers of all ages, there were classic titles that came quickly to mind. Finding books that corresponded to the PaperTigers’ goal of understanding different cultures through children’s literature was a challenge and an opportunity for exploring new reading adventures.

I was lucky. The first book I found on my initial foray into this new world of books that would appeal to both adults and children was one that immediately captured my heart and mind—Naming Maya by Uma Krishnaswami.

I’ve worked in bookstores for decades but this novel was one that I hadn’t encountered before. I was eager to hear other people’s opinions of it and to have the chance to talk about it, the way we readers always feel when we find a book that we love.

The comments for Naming Maya have been as rich and as thoughtful as I had hoped they would be. Readers have agreed that this is a book for mothers and daughters to read together, that it evokes India in a way that could describe Hyderabad as well as it does Chennai, and that the theme of dualism is expressed quite beautifully in the idea of the “Two-Gift.” As Maya herself concludes about trust, in an observation that applies to many things in this novel–and in life–”You keep some, you give some away.”

What makes this book one that I can return to with pleasure for reading over and over is, above all, the way that three very strong women of different generations are portrayed, Maya, Kamala Mami, and Maya’s mother. Together they make a household that is both temporary and enduring, and Uma Krishnaswami makes each of them enduring figures in the reader’s imagination. It is no small feat to be able to give life to characters of varying background and chronological age, but it is accomplished so well in Naming Maya.

Not only is Chennai vividly evoked in this book, but so is its culture and values. Uma Krishnaswami delicately and without editorializing shows through Maya’s eyes different ways of accepting marriage, of being a teenager, of growing old. And she so wonderfully shows how food can be a common language when living in a place where three different languages are routinely used and in all of them words sometimes fail.

“I hear you need a cook,” Kamala Mami announces to Maya and her mother, the day after their arrival in India. They do indeed, more than they know. Kamala Mami’s food brings them slowly together–right up until a dish made from her recipe crashes to the floor and releases Maya’s torrent of hitherto unspoken emotion.

The one complaint I have about this novel is that it hasn’t yet been released in a paperback edition, which would make it accessible to many more readers than it already is. When I recently told a fellow-bookseller about Naming Maya, his response was that far too few books address the subject of bi-cultural children, a point that both Aline and Katia touched upon in our discussion. Uma Krishnaswami has found a universality in belonging to two different worlds.  Through her art Maya’s duality becomes a new way for readers of all ages to look at their own lives, and that is an act accomplished by literature that is truly great.

If you haven’t yet read this book, I envy you the joy of experiencing it for the first time. If you know a young girl with whom you can share it, I envy you even more. If you’ve read it already, discover the joy of reading it again–and add your opinion to mine in the comments field if you agree that it should be reissued in a paperback edition, please!

Bruno is miserable. He’s a nine-year-old explorer with nothing to explore and no friends. His family has been moved from their comfortable, spacious house in Berlin to a place that is small and isolated. Nobody lives nearby except for a large number of people behind a long fence, whom Bruno can see at a distance from his bedroom window, and the soldiers whom his father oversees. It’s a dismal, gloomy place and Bruno wants nothing more than to leave it and go back home to Berlin.

Everyone, from his parents to his annoying older sister to the maid who has known him since birth, assure Bruno that this is impossible, but nobody will tell him why. So Bruno decides it’s time to explore his surroundings, as unprepossessing as they appear to be.

As he enters the outside world, mysteries present themselves. Why is the old man who helps him when he falls from his tire swing now a waiter when he used to be a doctor? Why don’t any of the people whom he can see from his window, the ones who live behind the fence, ever visit his family? And who is the boy dressed in striped pajamas on the other side of the fence who becomes Bruno’s only friend?

There are many questions in this book, and many of them continue to go unanswered when the end has been reached.

Is it a children’s book? No. Is it a book for adults?

“No. It’s a book,” the author tells us, “It’s a story.”

That it is, and it’s one that readers of all ages will want to discuss. Let’s talk.

We’re still receiving comments on this month’s Tiger’s Choice, Naming Maya. Please add your thoughts about this wonderful novel before the discussion ends at the end of May. And if you are eager to read additional fiction that will complement Uma Krishnaswami’s work, Sherry York has just published Ethnic Book Awards: A Dictionary of Multicultural Literature for Young Readers, which includes a reader’s guide to Naming Maya.

Next month we will go to historical fiction that will awaken a whole new arena of conversation, we hope. For those who would like to find the book in advance of the discussion, the book will be The Boy in the Striped Pajamas by John Boyne. Originally published in Great Britain, this novel is available in paperback and is a Young Reader’s Choice Award nominee in my corner of the world. It’s also showing up on quite a few adult book group displays, and will be our focus in June.

I gobbled Naming Maya when I first read it, swept up by its story, its characters and its sense of place. I’ve reread it several times since that first rapid perusal, and with each new reading I find another facet of the story.

There are so many things about this book that I long to discuss with other people who have read it too. It makes me wish I had a daughter so I could talk it over with her – and that leads me to believe that it’s a perfect selection for a mother-daughter book group. What do people who have daughters think? Is this a book that you would choose to read with girls in your family?

“Language can make you a stranger in many places, but only if you let it,” Maya observes in a place where Hindi, English, and Tamil all compete for her attention. How does Kamala Mami bring Maya’s family together in spite of their differing languages and customs?

Shared history and memory both are unifying and divisive in this novel. How does Kamala Mami’s chaotic flood of memories help Maya to live with her own?

In an earlier PaperTigers post, Filipino author Lara Saguisag discusses how different values and different dreams lead to varying forms of childhood. How do cultural values and the protection that they can offer contribute to the differences between Maya and her cousin?

And perhaps most of all – did other readers immediately go out in search of Indian food when they finished reading this book? I certainly did!

The latest Tiger’s Choice, Naming Maya, by Uma Krishnaswami, is a response to the Books at Bedtime Reading Challenge that was extended to all readers of PaperTigers. Thanks to Marjorie for giving us all a chance to read our way through different countries and cultures–this challenge opens up a whole new reading adventure for those of us who choose to take it.

As Naming Maya unfolds, many of its readers are presented with a new country, new codes of behavior, new flavors, smells, and daily landscapes. The taste of “honey and chili powder” mingled on the tongue, milk delivered by bringing a cow to a doorstep and milking it in view of the person who is soon to drink it, listening to the call of a brain-fever bird, seeing a tree that is adorned with flowers, coins, and a statue of ” the plump, cheery elephant-headed god, Ganesha,” these things are all vividly described and give a glimpse of Chennai, India.

Or it does for me. How about you? As you read, do you see Maya’s new world, and experience her confusion? Do the differing values of her mother’s home country that frustrate this New Jersey girl become clear as the book progresses? And is memory a gift or a curse?

As the Tiger’s Bookshelf progresses on its own adventure of searching for readers who will take part in our online book group, the question persists of how do non-virtual, more conventional book groups solve the dilemma of having members take voice in their group discussions? If you belong to a book group that has found solutions to the silence, please let us know! How do you entice the shyest, least confident members to voice their opinions and express their thoughts?