The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street by Karina Yan Glaser

Three chapters in, I thought this book was such a bore. But now that I've finished it, I'm looking forward to reading the sequel that came out just a couple months ago (The Vanderbeekers and the Hidden Garden). What changed? Instead of being impatient with a slow plot, I became so engaged with the characters that I was more interested in their own development and emotions than in the resolution of the central question--which is: Will they have to move? And where? 

While I love a good fantasy book full of imagination and magic and creative settings, every once in a while I need to sit down with a real-life story about normal people with normal problems. The Vanderbeekers of 141st Street is just such a book, and ideal for an early grade school audience. 

This book is appealing to me largely because it's clearly an homage to all lovely homes in the world. This family has made their home in Harlem in Manhattan, which is hard for me to relate to. But there's no doubt that the picture that Karina Yan Glaser paints is very attractive. The Vanderbeekers are an in-tact family of seven (living in Manhattan... which perhaps requires a bit of suspension of disbelief right up front): father, mother, and five kids (plus dog and bunny!). Mr. Vanderbeeker grew up in this particular neighborhood in Harlem, as did all of his kids up to their current ages, and even in this particular house for the last 6 years or so. The Vanderbeekers know everyone in the neighborhood and help take care of the elderly and thoughtfully include those around them in their lives. It's a beautiful picture of the way all people are meant to live in community. A personal favorite moment is a snapshot of how comfortable the family is with all different sorts of people when a "gentleman" in baggy pants with a rhinestone studded dog leash out walking his chihuahua who, upon seeing a contingent of the kids, greets them with, "What-up, Vanderbeekers?" (Even though I would not normally think "gentleman" when seeing a person of this description, I love that he is labeled such in the book, showing that the children see him that way and have a way of treating all grownups as "ladies" and "gentlemen" no matter what stereotype they might fit into.) 

Of course, the family is a bit loud. How can you not be loud when there are 5 kids in one family? In fact, their noise and conspicuous presence is part of what causes their landlord to decide not to renew their lease. So the kids develop a hair-brained (and ill-fated) scheme to capture the heart of the evil Beiderman so he will change his mind and let them stay. The plan includes everything from offerings of homemade place-mats, a kitten, threats a la Treasure Island, and a neighborhood petition to show how Harlem would not be the same if the Vanderbeekers had to move. 

The story is simple and fairly slowly developed. The whole book takes place over about 4 days surrounding Christmas. But each child, and both parents are fondly sketched--each their own delights and sorrows and dreams and memories. They are altogether charming. This book does much to affirm the goodness of a family, both for the members of that family and also for the good of the community that surrounds the family. 

A healthy diet of fiction

I'm currently reading a book called On Reading Well, by Karen Swallow Prior. This is certainly not my usual realm (which I can confidently say is either literature or children's fiction) but rather a dabble into literary criticism with a Christian twist. This book in particular, has the distinction of being an argument for the moral benefit of reading fiction. (Which is not too common today, especially among Christian circles.) So I refrained from writing another book review this week, partly because it seemed a bit much to review books by the same author three weeks in a row, and partly because I'm well into the middle of a book about reading, that I would rather share with the world at large. 

While I'm not at all trained in literary criticism, I have read other books about writing and about assessing the strength and value of the writing that we read. I'm also fairly well read, in the sense that I have read quite a lot and I can articulate both the good and bad points of the books I read. And not having been classically trained in literary criticism, it feels rather validating that in reading this book, my common-sense approach to determining what is good and bad seems to be upheld. (Though this style of literary criticism is considered, at best, quaint in these modern times.) 

Good fiction makes us want to be good people. There. Now isn't that quaint? But it's true.... 

This is what Karen Swallow Prior argues so compellingly in her introduction. 

Virtue is desirable for a good life. And virtue comes, not from knowledge, but from practice. Knowing what is virtuous doesn't make us so.... it's acting virtuous that makes us good people. And how do we learn to act virtuous? By being placed in circumstances where we must choose between right and wrong and we succeed in choosing right. And how do we know what is right and virtuous? Perhaps a couple ways: one way is to call to mind an example that you admire of virtuous behavior. We imagine, "what would so-and-so think or say or do in such a case?" This is the benefit of history. We can think of a specific example with personality that inspires us and with which we can sympathize in their victories and defeats. A second way to know virtue is from philosophy. We think hypothetically about what is perfect and to be desired above everything else in beauty and goodness.... and we form an ideal. 

This is what makes fiction so very powerful. Because fiction is the only place where the ideal (philosophy) can meet the picture (history). In reading a fiction story, we relate to the protagonist (and indeed, all the characters!) in their vicissitudes and we feel the pain of their bad decisions and the glory of their good decisions. We see with an almost omniscient eye the ramifications of their actions and the events leading to the fateful dilemmas that must change the course of their story. In essence, we are so emotionally invested that when we read a book that paints the world in strong and true colors (that show accurately the pain of 'bad' and the joy of 'good'), we are mentally practicing to make the same decisions in our own lives. 

If people become virtuous through practice, reading fiction is a way to practice making good decisions alongside the characters that we read about. Of course we recognize that we aren't really in the same situation.... and yet, we think through the decision as if we were. That's why it's a practice! And it helps train our minds and our hearts to desire to do well and to be worthy of greatness in the real world. Karen Swallow Prior also suggests that even though we aren't truly living out these situations requiring a turning toward right or wrong, we often aren't fully living out our own scenarios even in real life! Yes, we're living, and actually making decisions. But we often don't see (as we do when we're reading) the ramifications and ripple effects of the decisions we're making. We don't see all the movements around us that have brought us to this place. We don't see the history of many years condensed into a mere hundred pages that we have perused over the last couple days to give us a rounded and broad understanding of the virtues and vices that have come this moment to war over our souls. But! The more fiction we read, and the more we practice seeing these things in the books we read, the more we are ready to consider the story of our own lives with greater wisdom and discernment. 

This has certainly been true in my own life. I can easily rattle off a half-dozen fictional characters that have literally changed the way I think and live simply because I have read and re-read and loved the books in which they are cast. And now, in being reminded of the value of their example, I'm once again inspired to search for more, and to be reunited with my old heroes that have brought me to my current place and still have much to teach me. If you don't have fictional heroes, you are missing out on a very great blessing and help toward finishing your own story well. 

Ghosts of Greenglass House by Kate Milford (book review and character summary)

A new mystery, a new search, and a new bunch of crazy people--Ghosts of Greenglass House is everything you would expect of a sequel to Kate Milford's award winning Greenglass House. 

The craziness begins anew when, just a couple days before Christmas, the Wait's show up at the front door of Greenglass House. Who are the Waits? A mysterious and slightly creepy caroling group. They wear outlandish costumes covered in bells and holly and mistletoe and they carry a "hobby horse"--an animal skull bedecked with ribbons and bells and candles. But then, for some reason, everything starts going wrong. The cleaning of the chimney is a complete disaster, filling the air with soot and grime. One guest seems to get poisoned by some punch (someone put Christmas berries in with the spices!) Two other guests are whacked on the head by an unseen molester. 

It seems impossible that all this is coincidence when only the day before, Georgie and Clem showed up at the Greenglass House seeking a  low-profile haven after a job gone wrong. And sure enough, the same evening that the Waits are spreading chaos over the Greenglass House, Georgie and Clem both find that they have been robbed. As far as they can tell, the stash they brought wasn't particularly valuable--just special because it once belonged to Violet Cross, the famed smuggler who supposedly did the impossible and mapped the ever-changing Skidwrack River. Such a map would be an invaluable treasure! It doesn't seem like the map was among the things they found in the old hideaway, but if it was.... things could get a lot messier than a bit of soot on the Christmas tree! 

To complicate matters even more, there's another mystery guest: Emmett Syebuck. He appears to be at the house as an artist obsessed with the stained glass windows. But is he really who he says he is? He clearly has some skill. But his interest in Clem and Georgie when they arrive is more than a little suspicious. Is he the another thief? Is he working for himself? Is he a customs agent? 

In contrast with the first book, Milo learns to use his emotions (instead of ignoring or dampening them) to strengthen his understanding and intuition of those around him. Like the first book, this story draws on the uses of a role-playing game (Odd Trails) to help Milo adapt to new situations and learn how to be a more capable, calm version of himself. And like the first book, there are several side-stories told by the characters--and it is for the reader to determine just how relevant they are to the mysteries at hand. 

All in all, Ghosts of Greenglass House is a fun and fast read that follows well in the footsteps of Greenglass House. Stay tuned for my thoughts on Bluecrowne--the Nagspeake companion novel about the magical first inhabitants of Greenglass House (the Bluecrowne family.)

For those who have taken some time in between reading the first and second book, it might be helpful to have a refresher of characters and summary of what happened in the first book: 

Milo Pine (and parents) - Mr. and Mrs. Pine, with their adopted son Milo, live at Greenglass House and run it as an inn. While not actively participating in smuggling activities, it's generally understood that Greenglass House is a relatively safe haven for smugglers to lie low for a while. The first book revealed the unique history of the house in being owned by one of the greatest smugglers in Nagspeake history (Doc Hollystone). 

Meddy - Milo's friend from the first book, who is actually the ghost of Doc Hollystone's daughter. Her real name is Addie Witcher, but adopts the nickname of "Meddy" when Milo mistakenly thinks that she is the cook's younger daughter. She helps Milo gain confidence and introduces him to the role playing game (Odd Trails) and helps him solve the mysteries of Greenglass House. 

Georgie and Clem - two girls in their twenties who show up in the first book. They are both consummate thieves, specializing in different techniques. In the sequel, they return to Greenglass House as a haven after attempting a "job" together which went badly. 

Owen - a minor character, but meaningful to Milo. This is the man whose affections Georgie and Clem were competing for in the first book. (Clem won.) More significantly, Owen has a tie to Greenglass House because his middle name is the same as the ancient family name that used to belong to the house: (Lansdegown... or Bluecrowne.) He's Asian and adopted, and at least in the first book, knew nothing about his birth family or Asian heritage. Because of the similarities in their situations, Owen becomes something of a mentor to Milo. 

Mr. de Vinge - he has a fairly minor role in this sequel, but does show up. The Deacon and Morvengard agent who was deputized with the Customs patrol who was originally responsible for Doc Hollystone's capture and death. He proves himself ruthless in the first book, and conniving and double-crossing in the second. 

Lizzie and Mrs. Caraway - minor characters. The cook and her daughter, but still safe people and affectionate family friends.