Sky Jumpers. By Peggy
Eddleman. Random House. $16.99.
Lara’s Gift. By Annemarie
O’Brien. Knopf. $16.99.
Here are two adventures, one
from the future and one from the past, by authors creating their first novels
for preteens and young teenagers (what is called the “middle-grade” market). Sky Jumpers is the first of two books
about a town filled with inventors, built in a bomb crater left after World War
III has nearly destroyed everything and has brought a horrific disease called
Shadel’s Sickness. Inventing being a rather cerebral activity, the town of
White Rock is ill equipped to fend off encroaching bandits who are determined
to steal the town’s priceless supply of an antibiotic called Ameiphus. Luckily,
the townspeople are not all
inventors: 12-year-old Hope is unskilled at creating things and is much more
interested in a kind of futuristic cliff diving called sky jumping, which
involves the thrill of leaping into a band of compressed air called the Bomb’s
Breath that covers the bomb crater itself. So here, it would seem, we have a
novel arguing that athletic prowess is better than intellectual endeavor –
reinforcing a horrendous negative stereotype that leads us to pay professional
athletes millions of dollars while relegating teachers to the lower rungs of
the middle class, if that. Luckily, though, Peggy Eddleman does not structure
the book as mind vs. body. She makes sure that Hope, who narrates the book, is
sensitive and even nurturing despite her athletic interests and abilities. For
example, Hope is genuinely moved by her mother’s constant references to the
brothers that Hope does not have: “My eight brothers…died before they were even
born. It comforted her to believe they hung out with me as angels and acted
like real brothers would while I did my farm chores. She wasn’t crazy. That was
just her way of dealing with the fact that she wanted a house full of kids but
only got one.” Hope’s father, meanwhile, knows she is destined for something
important: “‘You’re a leader. People follow you. That means the decisions you
make affect more than just you. You need to have the good of others in mind
too.’” Hope does not consider herself leader material, but of course when the
town faces its great crisis, it falls to Hope – along with her friends Aaren
and Brock – to find a way across the surrounding mountains to bring help from
outside. Aaren’s five-year-old sister, Brenna, proves an added complication,
following the three preteens so they have to take her along. The difficult
escape proves only the first huge challenge for Hope and her friends, and the
book eventually leads to Hope’s realization that she is indeed a leader, that
she can single-handedly face down the head of the bandits, and she can –
unknowingly – invent something extremely important after all. This is a
familiar coming-of-age story arc within an equally familiar dystopic future,
but Eddleman handles it nicely and brings the book to a satisfying conclusion that
nevertheless leaves the way open for the planned sequel.
Lara’s Gift looks back for atmosphere, not forward: Annemarie
O’Brien sets the novel in 1910, in Imperial Russia, a place so different from
anything young readers will be familiar with today that it might as well be
just as fictional as Eddleman’s future world. The protagonist here is Lara, who
looks forward to carrying on her family’s tradition of breeding borzoi dogs
good enough for Russian nobility or even for Tsar Nicholas II himself. Lara
expects to follow in her father’s footsteps to become kennel steward to Count
Vorontsov, but when Lara’s baby brother, Bohdan, is born, her father decides
that he should be the next kennel
steward. And Lara is cut off from more than her expected future, for she has a
vision when a borzoi named Zarya gives birth to a litter – a vision that angers
and frightens her father but that induces him, very reluctantly, to allow the
runt of the litter to live if Lara
herself takes care of the pup. Lara knows from what she has seen in her mind
that this dog, which she calls Zar, will have an important role to play, but
she does not know what her own future
will bring, except that she is sure it will involve the dogs she loves – which she
has an extraordinary ability to understand. O’Brien uses a number of Russian
words to give the story the ring of historic truth – the glossary at the back
is not only helpful but also necessary for full understanding – but despite the
exotic setting, O’Brien’s underlying theme of a young girl trying to find out
where she fits in the world is not all that different from Eddleman’s. The
family issues, although couched in different terms, are similar, too. Lara’s
mother tells her at one point, speaking of Lara’s father and his attitude
toward Lara’s visions, “‘He has much to think about now. His whole world of
beliefs and Rules has flip-flopped. He’s struggling to sort it all out and make
it right for you, himself, and the future of the dogs.’” Lara herself has much
to think about, too, and the eventual rapprochement with her father and
confirmation of her vision about Zar are, if not surprising, handled well and
with sensitivity. O’Brien evokes the Russian settings more effectively than the
personalities of the characters, most of whom fit preordained roles and have
little that is surprising to say or do. But the story’s combination of the
exotic and the expected is nicely handled, and the use of Russian and of some
real people – Count Vorontsov’s borzoi kennels were in fact famed in their time
– lends the whole work a pleasantly solid feeling of authenticity.
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