Dairy Queen November 19, 2007

Murdock, Catherine Gilbert (2006). Dairy Queen. Boston : Houghton Mifflin. 275 pages.

15 year old D.J. might as well be a cow – she does what everyone expects her to, and she does it without complaining – or talking at all, really. But once she starts fighting back against her bovine destiny, she’s going to change everyone around her, from her silent brother, to her stern father (and his brownies), to the starting quarterback of the rival football team.

This book covers everything you could possibly expect a novel to cover. The short summary I wrote above? Just the barest minimum of surface skimming. This book has sports (namely football – why do I keep reading books about football? where are the books on tennis, a sport I at least know something about!), and romance, and family drama, and growing up. The basics, really. All done with a really simple and beautiful first person narration that feels really honest and moving. Just reading the book, I became very attached to D.J., which is something I don’t always get from books and value all the more because of it.

The family drama aspect was realistic and understated – no one here is really wrong, or horrible and abusive. D.J.’s mom is busy. Her younger brother won’t talk – there’s nothing wrong with him, he just doesn’t like talking. Her two older brothers won’t come home. And her dad, recently injured in an accident, is learning how to be a house-husband, when maybe what he really needs to learn is how to talk to his children. And D.J.? She’s trying to balance running the farm almost on her own with the rest of her life.

And if that’s not enough, there’s also Brian, the quarter back of a rival team who comes to work on the farm. At first full of friction, Brian and D.J.’s relationship grows into a mutually beneficial partnership, and then into a friendship, but D.J. doesn’t kid herself that Brian is even remotely in her league. Brian and D.J. have a lot of chemistry that reads very well – think about what would happen if Elizabeth Bennett decided to train Mr. Darcy in football. Yeah, it’s pretty fabulous.

Booktalk Hook: Are you a cow?

If you like this book: You’ll probably enjoy Hana Yori Dango (live action – I take no responsibility if you watch the anime or read the manga). It’s less realistic in terms of family drama, and… ok, actually just not very realistic at all, but it has a romance plot with a similar flavor, and it is just as insanely entertaining.  Or if this book has given you a love of all things dairy, try indulging it further with Harvest Moon, an adorable farming sim video game series.

Knights of the Hill Country October 19, 2007

Tharp, Tim (2006). Knights of the Hill Country. NY : Alfred A. Knopf. 233 pages.

Hampton Green is on the brink of becoming a legend – he’s the star of the football team in a town where football is practically a religion, and his team is on its way to a record number of undefeated games. But the rest of his life isn’t going nearly that well. His mom only seems to have time for her string of short term boyfriends. His best friend is coming unglued. And the only girl he can talk to is completely inappropriate for him, according to the etched-in-stone social hierarchy of high school.

This book draws heavily from the old legends and stories of the medieval era. Being a Kennisaw Knight is more than just being a member of a football team – it’s a way of life. It means fighting for your honor, never giving up, and, according to Hampton’s friend Blaine, enjoying the perks that come with a heroic victory (aka, the hottest girls in school). The metaphor works perfectly – not only in terms of equating football with war, there’s also the “town hero” idea, and the rigidity of the high school hierarchy (which I always felt was a little medieval) backing it up. The concept was really well done, with appropriate conflicts and resolutions building up the theme.

The book is written in Hampton’s unabashed, ungrammatically, country voice that nevertheless manages to be both efficient and lyrical. The characters are also well drawn – I particularly liked Sarah, Hampton’s unpopular love interest. Or maybe that was just because I could relate – her unfortunate nickname “Bush Girl” is very similar (yet slightly more inventive) than the one I had in junior high. Ah, memories!

All in all, this book was well written, well plotted, and well characterized – and I definitely recommend it. I even enjoyed the football scenes!

Booktalk hook: Do you like football? Do you hate football? Doesn’t matter, you’ll probably like this book either way.

And if you like this: You might want to try the football manga, Eyeshield 21, or Gordon Korman’s Zucchini Warriors.

Hikaru no Go October 16, 2007

Hotta, Yumi & Obata, Takeshi. (2004-) Hikaru no Go (Andy Nakatani, Trans.). San Francisco: Viz Media.

Twelve year old Hikaru was just minding his own business, looking around his grandfather’s attic for stuff to pawn (ok, maybe not minding his own business) when he stumbled on a go board haunted by the thousand year old ghost of go enthusiast, Fujiwara no Sai. Only now that Sai’s met Hikaru, he has no intention of staying in the attic – he wants to play more go - and drags Hikaru with him, into a world of competitive and passionate people, where he makes friends, rivals, and enemies.

If you asked me if I’d like this series before I read it (and people did) the answer would have been “hell no.” It’s about go, which as far as I was (and still am) concerned is like chess, but with little round stones. So, the series had to be really boring, right? Wrong. This series is excellent – the art is wonderful, the story telling is compelling, and the overall experience is addictive. The story follows Hikaru from 12 to 18, from Sai’s reluctant proxy, to an enthusiastic professional player, using his own strengths and abilities.  Once I started, I couldn’t stop reading (and I was lucky, because I had the entire series, but American readers should be aware that only half of the series has been published as of now.) The manga doesn’t take a microscopic, obsessive view of the game itself, but uses it as a tangible object around which the characters act out obsession, competition, rivalry, pride, revenge, and triumph like any great story. The result is that you may not learn a hell of a lot about go, but you definitely enjoy the ride.

For me, the most compelling part of the story is (antihero?) Akira Touya. Akira is the rising young progidy of the go world, with his title-winning father and his heaps of natural talent and careful training. And all of that crashes around his head when he tries to make (his first!) friend in Hikaru and ends up totally smushed at go by Sai. Of course, he doesn’t know it’s Sai, prompting Hikaru from the shadows, all he knows is that he’s suddenly got a rival his age – a rival that’s strangely reluctant to face him. And he doesn’t handle it well – but he handles it interestingly. (Stalking, among other things, is involved.)

Booktalk Hook: Did you ever think it would be kind of cool to be haunted by a ghost? Poor Hikaru probably hadn’t thought anything like that at all – but when it happened to him, it wasn’t cool, because all the ghost wanted to do was make him play a really boring old game. But – was it really that boring?

If you like this: Check out the movies Onmyouji and Onmyouji II, for more Heian era ghosts. Although these ghosts aren’t friendly, harmless, go enthusiasts – they’re dangerous. And only Abe no Seimei’s powers and Hiromasa’s – uh – flute, are standing between them and total destruction. Or if you want the younger, friendlier version, try Shonen Onmyouji instead.