"All texts must be open, to all people" (Katherine Rundell)

Katherine Rundell`s book Why You Should Read Children`s Books, Even Though You Are So Old And Wise has been mentioned before here and no doubt will be mentioned again....and again...and again but especially when I`ve read something as enthralling as Jospeh`s Elliott`s Shadow Skye trilogy.

It is both sad and misguided that children`s books are still so often seen as the poor relation of fiction, that borrowers in the library service where I work still feel the need to apologise shamefacedly for having enjoyed a brilliant Young Adult book, never mind one categorized as Junior Fiction. (The categorization of books is a subject for another time😉)

Saddest of all is that some well known figures in the literary world get so snooty about it (no names, no pack drill but I see you), in the process making the problem worse as well as displaying an astonishing ignorance about some of the factors involved in encouraging children to become confident and enthusiastic readers.

So back to the books that prompted that mini-rant:

 

Set on an alternative Isle of Skye, this magnificent saga takes its heroes and heroines to the plague devastated mainland of Scotland, across the water to Norway and eventually to the kingdom of England, ruled by a despotic king and his allies, all in an attempt to defend their clan`s homeland.  There are terrifying shadow creatures known as sgàilean, blood magic, treachery, deceit and even a huge, vaguely familiar Scottish beast. The reader is completely swept up in the pacy narrative but the books real power lies in the three central characters,  Agatha, Jaime and Sigrid and the clever technique of giving each their own distinctive voice and alternating the chapters between them so the story is told from three different points of view.

It works brilliantly: not only is each voice unmistakable (the heading at the top of each chapter to signify who is speaking becomes almost redundant) but their language informs their characters without the need to make explicit observations. Especially delightful is what Elliott refers to in the notes as Sigrid`s "idiosyncratic slang", which absolutely nails her energy and resourcefulness not to mention her wry sense of humour.

Themes of loyalty, trust, love and tolerance run throughout the narrative, challenging our heroes at every turn to make hard choices about what is right and what is wrong. Which is why, when it is handled as well as this, anyone could be proud of saying they`d read it. Or, as Rundell says:

          "...the writing we call children`s fiction is not a childish thing.....(rather it) has childhood at its heart, which is not the same thing."

"Storytelling on a grand scale."

When you get towards the end of a 548 page hardback novel and realise that  you have to resist the urge to check the last page to see what happens while at the same time not wanting it to end at all - that is the absolute essence of good storytelling.  And Demon Copperhead by Barbara Kingsolver has it in spades.

Billed as a  "reimagining" of David Copperfield but set in Kingsolver`s Appalachia it is by no means necessary to have read Dicken`s classic story before embarking on Demon Copperhead. Those who have will recognize some of the characters as playing much the same role as in the earlier novel. But what draws you in perhaps most powerfully in both cases is the relating of the story by the heroes themselves - if, indeed, as David Copperfield says, they turn out to be heroes.

The opening paragraph of Demon Copperhead immediately sets the tone, the language and not least the wry humour which runs through the whole sorry tale of a boy born into poverty of a drug addicted single mother:

                            "First, I got myself born. A decent crowd was on hand to watch, and they`ve always given me that much: the worst of the job was up to me, my mother being let`s just say out of it."

And with that we are launched into an autobiography which rattles along at a breathless pace, following the fortunes and misfortunes of Damon, whose red hair and feral nature soon earn him his eponymous nickname. There`s a large and varied cast of characters whose lives touch Demon`s in one way or another, for better or worse, often as they also are dealing with their own crises of poverty, alienation, and drug addiction. 

As always with Kingsolver, politics and political structures are central to much of the plot but we are not being lectured at: much of Demon`s growing up demonstrates the abject failure of the very systems nominally there to support children in his position. Whether it is lack of resources, lack of political will,  a commentary on the forgotten communities in some parts of America - or indeed a combination of all these - is left for the reader to decide.

In any event it is impossible not to will Demon on, to celebrate his successes and despair when life throws him another curve ball. The writing never falters and with Kingsolver herself having grown up in Kentucky it feels like the story has been written as much from the heart as the head. 

Fact or Fiction?

Dystopian stories, set in an imagined future that often rests on an actual past and present, can make for disconcerting reads. How much more so if this imagined future isn`t in fact that far ahead. Rosa Rankin-Gee`s novel Dreamland falls into that category which is perhaps why, in an author`s note at the end of the book, she goes to the trouble of pointing out that while the story may be fictional "it builds on events and policies that are occurring today" which she then proceeds to delineate, in order to "be clear about which elements are based on fact".

And that`s a sobering thought once you`ve read the novel.  It`s a powerful read made all the more so by the strong first person narration. Chance is one of those characters you remember long after you finish the book. Buffeted by political forces outwith her control, social deprivation, family upheaval and the imminent threat of the consequences of climate change, Chance tries to navigate a way to survive. It sounds grim, it is grim, but there are moments of humour, of love and sheer human resilience that keep you reading on and rooting for Chance to succeed despite the constant, often inevitable, setbacks she faces. 

The backdrop is the town of Margate, a seaside resort whose fortunes have yo-yoed over the years but which, Rankin-Gee tells us in her author`s note, is currently enjoying another renaissance. Nevertheless part of its recent history mirrors the "relocation" theme which in many ways is central to Dreamland and where fact and fiction bump into each other. 

 By the end Dreamland is hard to put down: you`re  holding your breath as Chance aims to take control of her life and prioritise the things that really matter to her. And you`re left in no doubt that if she were to manage that Herculean task, she`d be one of the `lucky` ones.