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Nowadays, I don't say things like "it pulled me in," "I got lost in the writing," etc. I think that's because after seven years getting several degrees in literature, I've been taught to avoid vague statements like that and trained to analyze instead. In other words, academia has turned me into an enormous asshole. But when I started reading The Good Thieves - not sure if I'd end up finishing it, as I didn't consider it a priority - I really did get lost in the writing. This book made me feel like I was eleven again, because I would've absolutely adored it at that age. A spunky, resourceful heroine, a daring heist, humor, engrossing prose... I was never bored while I was reading this book. So many little elements made it a delight, from the tortoises with precious gems engraved in their shells to the circus in Carnegie Hall.
I loved how much Vita loved her grandfather. I loved the diversity, and I was pleasantly surprised by the social commentary. This book was constantly attacking classism, often humorously - there's just something so satisfying about a horrible rich man's oily hair catching fire. I give Rundell credit, too, for addressing racism in early 1900's New York. There are multiple times when Samuel, who is black, notes that he is treated differently than his white companions. Still, I think the book doesn't go quite far enough here, as it never acknowledges that the stakes of the heist are much higher for Samuel. The consequences of being caught are worse, even life-threatening, for him.
All in all, though, this was a very good book. It's always fun to read a children's book written by someone who clearly thinks that children are incredibly cool. Each one of these characters has a passion, and that passion is never diminished. Neither is their bravery or their resourcefulness. There's a sort of glee lying beneath Rundell's prose; you can tell that she really enjoyed writing these scrappy kids making an evil rich guy miserable. And you know what? I really enjoyed reading it.
Thank you to Edelweiss for the review copy.
I loved how much Vita loved her grandfather. I loved the diversity, and I was pleasantly surprised by the social commentary. This book was constantly attacking classism, often humorously - there's just something so satisfying about a horrible rich man's oily hair catching fire. I give Rundell credit, too, for addressing racism in early 1900's New York. There are multiple times when Samuel, who is black, notes that he is treated differently than his white companions. Still, I think the book doesn't go quite far enough here, as it never acknowledges that the stakes of the heist are much higher for Samuel. The consequences of being caught are worse, even life-threatening, for him.
All in all, though, this was a very good book. It's always fun to read a children's book written by someone who clearly thinks that children are incredibly cool. Each one of these characters has a passion, and that passion is never diminished. Neither is their bravery or their resourcefulness. There's a sort of glee lying beneath Rundell's prose; you can tell that she really enjoyed writing these scrappy kids making an evil rich guy miserable. And you know what? I really enjoyed reading it.
Thank you to Edelweiss for the review copy.
Once, when I was in fifth or sixth grade, I had to read Richard Peck’s The Teacher’s Funeral: A Comedy in Three Parts for an extracurricular book event (shockingly, I was not very popular). My mom read most of the stuff I had to read because I left it lying around the house, and neither of us found Peck’s book very funny. Mom, in her infinite wisdom, said that putting the word “comedy” of the cover of your book is a dangerous gamble - if you’re going to do it, the book better damn well be funny.
Unpregnant has no subtitle, but it’s clearly billed as a comedy. Good news: It’s actually pretty funny! It starts out with the classic teen-peeing-on-a-pregnancy-test scene, only Veronica, our protagonist, is just as nervous about somehow screwing the test up as she is about its results. The absurdity of that feeling is genuinely amusing, and it tells us a whole lot about over-achiever Veronica. Bailey has a lot of good one-liners, and there are some truly outrageous hijinks, including (my favorite) a girl threatening a ferret with a taser. Truly, everything than can go wrong does go wrong, in the style of a raunchy comedy film.
Which is also this book’s weakness. It really does feel like a film - it’s written like one. The constant everything-going-wrong, neatly interspersed with almost identical heart-to-hearts and fights, starts to get exhausting. Occasionally things feel cliché or like they’re trying a little too hard. I started wishing for a quiet moment, something that made this book its own book instead of the novelization of a movie that does not yet exist. (By the way, that movie will exist - they already sold the film rights.) I guess that’s what happens when your authors are a writer on How I Met Your Mother (okay, makes sense) and the music editor for the film The Hate U Give (what??).
But I still think this one’s worth reading. I mean, if it’s ultimately remembered as the book that spawned a great movie - and I do think it’ll make a better movie than it did a book - that’s nothing to sneeze at. The issue at its heart is handled with nuance, tenderness, and unflinching empathy. It’s really incredibly cool that a book like this exists about abortion, and I’m especially glad that it exists for teens.
Unpregnant has no subtitle, but it’s clearly billed as a comedy. Good news: It’s actually pretty funny! It starts out with the classic teen-peeing-on-a-pregnancy-test scene, only Veronica, our protagonist, is just as nervous about somehow screwing the test up as she is about its results. The absurdity of that feeling is genuinely amusing, and it tells us a whole lot about over-achiever Veronica. Bailey has a lot of good one-liners, and there are some truly outrageous hijinks, including (my favorite) a girl threatening a ferret with a taser. Truly, everything than can go wrong does go wrong, in the style of a raunchy comedy film.
Which is also this book’s weakness. It really does feel like a film - it’s written like one. The constant everything-going-wrong, neatly interspersed with almost identical heart-to-hearts and fights, starts to get exhausting. Occasionally things feel cliché or like they’re trying a little too hard. I started wishing for a quiet moment, something that made this book its own book instead of the novelization of a movie that does not yet exist. (By the way, that movie will exist - they already sold the film rights.) I guess that’s what happens when your authors are a writer on How I Met Your Mother (okay, makes sense) and the music editor for the film The Hate U Give (what??).
But I still think this one’s worth reading. I mean, if it’s ultimately remembered as the book that spawned a great movie - and I do think it’ll make a better movie than it did a book - that’s nothing to sneeze at. The issue at its heart is handled with nuance, tenderness, and unflinching empathy. It’s really incredibly cool that a book like this exists about abortion, and I’m especially glad that it exists for teens.
