Anne Ylvisaker

A chaotic group of elementary kids stomps through the natural history museum with nary a chaperone in sight. A hapless mustachioed maintenance man trails after them, until they all end up in the hands-on education classroom, thank god. Similar to Give Me Back My Bones the rhyming text incorporates scientific names of body parts that kids share with dinosaurs, explaining where they are found in the body using the illustrations.

Phoebe is about to enter middle school. She's perched in a tree in an alley, missing her friend Julia who has already moved on without her, and in turns grateful for and resentful of her friend Henny, who's going to Catholic school. Into this mix comes Mercy, who has only ever visited for the summer before but who, it transpires, will be joining Julia and Phee at Southside.

Things happen: Phee's secret poetry notebook is stolen and read by some of Julia's new friends; a neighbor collapses show more and Phee and Henny conquer their fear of his dog, Bull, in order to give him food and water; Mercy narrowly avoids death but her skateboard isn't so lucky.

For me, the structure obscured rather than clarified the character and plot, but as poetry is so subjective, I imagine this could be a perfect book for other readers.

Quotes

a poem is
a fistful of words
wringing my insides out (19)

...looking into the sky and leaves
umbrella of a thousand greens... (20) show less

As posted on Outside of a Dog:

Plucky, intelligent young girls are hardly a new concept for juvenile literature. We've got our May Amelias, our Anne Shirleys, our Hermione Grangers. So it's hard to write a character like that and make her someone new, someone exciting. This is partially where I felt disappointed with last year's Newbery winner, Moon Over Manifest. Abilene Tucker didn't strike me as someone new or exciting at all. In fact, I felt I'd met characters like her a dozen times over, show more and it hurt my enjoyment of the book. So taking this into account, I approached Anne Ylvisaker's The Luck of the Buttons with some trepidation. What would this book offer me that others haven't? Would Ylvisaker be able to give me a character that was both original and interesting?

Tugs Button comes from a long line of the unlucky. So unlucky, in fact, the family has a pie-eating coping mechanism. So when lucky things begin to happen to Tugs, like getting invited to a birthday party and winning a raffle, the family doesn't quite know what to do with her. Luckily, Tugs always knows just what to do with herself. She takes her raffle prize, a camera, a Kodak No. 2 Brownie F model, and is determined to make the most of it. Meanwhile, there's a shady character in town, and Tugs seems to be the only one in town who isn't under his spell. Her quick thinking and investigative work just might be in time to save the day, and the town.

It turns out that Tugs Button was exactly the kind of character that I needed, and Ylvisaker did have something new and exciting between her pages. There are shades of other girls we've known and loved (especially fellow tomboy May Amelia), but Tugs is someone interesting on her own merit. The element of luck, her newfound talent for it and her family's lack of it, lends an unexpected element to the proceedings. I loved reading about how the family prepares pies for various misfortunes, and how Tugs finally loses her patience with the brooding, complaining family and speaks her mind. Tugs desire for friendship with the well-to-do Aggie and the girly, cliquey "Mary" girls is something we can all understand, as is her decision not to be "hemmed in by a dress", especially when there are much more exciting goings on.

I didn't love The Luck of the Buttons, but I did enjoy it. It left me feeling pleased I had taken the time to read it, and eager to read more, which is always a good sign. Whether Ylvisaker chooses to continue the adventures of the irrepresible Tugs or branch out with other characters and stories, I'll be anxious to see what she has in store for us. show less

Little Klein is a slow, peaceful trip through rural America, circa 1949. Little Klein is the youngest and smallest of three brothers. Considered frail by his sturdy and practical mother, he is looked after (but never down upon) by his rough-and-tumble brothers (the Bigs). In this simple, dirt road town, Little Klein is the only one too frail to go barefoot in the summer. The addition of the stray dog, LeRoy, to the Klein family, adds joy and purpose to the Kleins' lives and Leroy's.

Written show more in what author Kirby Larson describes as "gossip-over-the-back-fence style," Little Klein meanders easily through the thoughts of the Kleins and their dog. The easy-going style makes the reader wistful for times he never knew,

"As the grown-ups went inside for iced tea, Little Klein, with LeRoy on his heels, raced to the garage for a trowel. He dug a hole in the discussed spot before Mother Klein could change her mind. He slipped into the kitchen, grabbed three forks, and stuck them in the ground around the hole, then tied string around the forks, marking the territory. He made a label, CORN, and sat waiting for his brothers, LeRoy at his side."

Of course, there is danger and adventure in the lives of all little boys, and Little Klein is no exception, but this is not an edge-of-your-seat adventure, but rather, the adventure of a bygone summer in a bygone era.

"Where were his boys? LeRoy tried to go to sleep, but the air was so empty of boy smell. He sniffed at the garbage can, but it was no good. He needed his boys. LeRoy rose up on his sturdy legs and picked his way to the alley and slouched slowly out of town."

There is no monumental historical message in this book, just simple and timeless themes - love between a boy and his dog (or in this case, between a dog and his boys, both the Bigs and the Little), the bonds of family, and the realization that in times of great need, we are all possible of performing great deeds. show less