In a time in which fantasy tales are often under challenge, Yolen makes a strong case for their importance in Touch Magic. She believes that, more than magic and mythical creatures, these stories are about acts of kindness or deceit, action and consequence, and the constant struggle to find a way to fit into the world you inhabit. As a result, “even very young children can absorb the meanings and wisdom of these symbolically expressed ancient tales and use them as tools for interpreting their own day-to-day experiences” (p 17.)

With Part One: The Tale and the Teller, Yolen takes the reader back to the root of fantasy, to the oral tales that have molded nearly every piece of fantasy that has followed, and how each changed as they were written down, taking on the morals and ideologies of the cultures and times during which they were recorded. From Cinderella to Red Riding Hood, she skillfully discusses fairy tale variants, maintaining that the original story, which often refused to shy away from pain and violence, is a more honest reflection of humanity than the versions that children are presented with today. She states: “They are the most potent kind of magic, these tales, for they catch a glimpse of the soul beneath the skin” (p 50.)

While this section is incredibly informative and thoughtful, Yolen dismisses some of the more modern adaptations of fairy tales, mostly those put forth by Walt Disney. The frequency with which she relies on pointing out the problems with his version of these stories comes across as a bit heavy-handed. And while she argues quite well as to why children do not need a watered down version of these tales, surely Disney’s adaptations have some importance in the landscape of fantasy, if only to use as a counterpoint for children to work out on their own.

From there, Yolen focuses on the quest aspect of fantasy stories, and how looking more closely at the metaphors inherent in each serves as a human touchstone. “[The] tensions of the stories carry us past the unbelievability of the magic into the credibility of miracles in our everyday lives” (p 61); it’s a potent thought, one that isn’t often mentioned when someone hints at the need to censor these stories because they fear they will send children down the wrong path.

“Why do those of us who love stories with layers of meaning have to defend our interest, as if that very interest makes us less capable citizens, wimps, nerds, or in league with the very devil?” (p 120)

Touch Magic is a wonderful and thought-provoking look at a genre that is often derided; as a librarian, I cannot say how many times I’ve heard a young reader say that a parent does not want them reading another fantasy story, and after reading this book I feel better armed to defend the genre’s place in their lives.

Packed with cool science, abundant in animal tales, and filled with fun jokes and activities, National Geographic Kids is a wonderful magazine for young readers.

The March 2008 issue opens with “Weird but true: 9 Outrageous Facts”; the magazine walks the line of informational and silly, which is sure to capture the interest in kids who enjoy learning about various things from countries to snails. From there, the magazine takes a look at pop culture, in this case the movie Horton Hears a Who, and covers animals from the wild to the domestic.

One of the most appealing traits of National Geographic Kids are the full color, glossy photographs and illustrations. Each page has lavish imagery; while the pictures never overwhelms the text and the message behind the articles, they are a nice addition and will surely hold a younger reader’s attention.

A highly recommended magazine for inclusion in any library’s collection.

When Emily Dickinson died in 1886, she left behind an astonishing number of poems; she considered her work letters to the world.

Winter frames the story of Emily Dickinson’s life by her sister’s discovery of her poems after her death; Lavinia begins by taking the reader through a brief tour of their Amherst house, picking up Dickinson’s white clothes and explaining during which months she wore them. It is a brief sketch of a complicated life that provides young readers with little of Emily Dickinson’s life. Instead of fleshing out her story, Winter relies on Dickinson’s poems to speak for her, and with an older audience this may be an acceptable way to go about it. While the poems are lovely and meaningful, they serve as more of an introduction to her work than to her life.

Winter’s illustrations are charming and are reminiscent of a skilled child’s attempt to paint the world around them. The illustrations also illuminate points of the poems that Winter chose to include in the book.

Though not yet out of his teens, Manjiro was charged with the role of head of his household in Nakahama, Japan. A fisherman by inheritance, Manjiro sailed out with a small group of others to fish the waters around their hometown only to be caught in a horrendous storm that would shipwreck them on an island. Rescued by American whalers, Manjiro went on to become not only one of the first of his countrymen to step foot on American soil, but also to have an education, adventures traveling the world, and to finally return home and be elevated to the status of a samurai.

With an abrupt beginning, Blumberg sets the reader, with a hint of Manjiro’s background as a boy, into the center of the storm that shipwrecked him and his fellow fisherman on Torishima island. While a factual recounting of his life, the pace is quick as Blumberg recounts major landmarks in Manjiro’s time spent abroad before returning to Japan. Manjiro’s story is fascinating, as is the look at feudal Japan, and the whaling industry in the United States during the 1800s. Of particular note are several mentions of Herman Melville, which, in their own way, anchor the reader in the knowledge of how Melville came to write Moby Dick.

The structure of Shipwrecked! was nicely handled; the amount of text fails to intimidate due to the number of photographs and illustrations that help paint the picture of Manjiro’s life. Among the supplementary illustrations are some done by Manjiro himself, which, perhaps above anything else, helps the reader realize that they are in actuality reading a true story. A lovely choice, the cover of Shipwrecked! features what has surely become an iconic Japanese image, that of Katsushika Hokusai’s “Great Wave off the Coast of Kanagowa.”

Blumberg’s book provides a wealth of information that is simultaneously fascinating and absorbing; highly recommended to any young reader who yearns to be an armchair traveler or simply wants to learn more about a young boy’s life and the many turns it took after being Shipwrecked! away from home.

Samuel Clemens, born in Missouri in 1835, had an auspicious beginning: Halley’s comet marked the sky that very night. His life from there was one of adventure, of times spent with friends, listening to stories and playing in and along the banks of the Mississippi River. When he grew old enough to support himself, he held a number of odd jobs, but his true calling was to take all of the things he knew and mold them into stories that are cherished to this day, and to do so as a man named Mark Twain.

In American Boy, Brown presents a very brief look at the life of Samuel Clemens, outlining relevant pieces of information while maintaining a storytelling quality to the narrative. Young readers will be much more likely to relate to Samuel Clemens through his escapades and as a result they may be inclined to retain information, such as the various terms for water depth, or one of the jobs Clemens took up during his lifetime. The Note at the conclusion of the book contains one piece of information that would have made a lasting impression had it been included in the regular course of the book: On the night of Clemens death, Halley’s comet again streaked through the sky.

Also responsible for the illustrations, Brown’s watercolor sketches paint a simple picture of life along the river, capturing a myriad of adventuresome moments in Clemens’s life. They are a nice addition even if the book could stand alone without them.

Ged, son of Ten Alders’s bronze-smith, displayed a skill for magic at an early age. On the day he wielded that skill to save his village, Ged fell ill, taxed by the effort it took; the wizard, Ogion, came and lifted the malady, and offered Ged the opportunity to become his apprentice. The young Ged, always prideful and quick to anger, would follow a path that would lead him into the dangerous world of casting spells that he knew nothing about, unleashing an evil that would dog his steps as a painful result.

The wonder of magic and fantasy lifts from the very first page of Le Guin’s classic Earthsea series. The language is exquisite, conveying the beauty of Ged’s surroundings, explaining the how’s of magical power. Young readers who appreciate the art of writing will find a lot in this novel to love. The fantasy elements and the landscape of Earthsea, described richly and thoroughly, will capture readers’ attention immediately, and the fact that Le Guin takes the time to explore how magic works may ground the book enough for those uncomfortable with the genre.

However, the story itself, based around a young boy who is anything but sympathetic, might be hard to follow. Ged is thirteen at the start of the tale, but there is little inherent good in him; young readers may be entirely unable to relate to his character, and, in fact, may be happier to see him stumble along the way than to root for him when he finds himself in trouble.

The fact that Earthsea was turned into a movie may encourage some younger readers to pick up the book, but the adaptation is only very loosely based on the novel, and will only serve as a guide to a well written fantasy story.

Lina and Doon, friends who had grown apart over the years, must come together to determine the extent of the trouble their city is in. Each day there are more shortages in Ember, fewer food staples and clothing items to go around, and the lights go off for longer intervals then ever before. The citizens are starting to panic and Lina and Doon decide there’s only one thing they can do: Take matters into their own hands and fix whatever is going wrong in Ember. Their search to uncover the solution to the city’s problem will land them in trouble and down a path filled with danger and adventure and, quite possibly, a way out.

The City of Ember is an interesting blend of mystery and science fiction. The children undertake a task based on a clue Lina finds in her apartment; their sleuthing leads to a bit of trouble, and exposes the distrust that children can occasionally feel towards adults, especially when they believe they are not being taken seriously. This aspect is believable and relatable, grounding the novel in reality even as the science fiction elements, that of an entire city being built and maintained underground, may seem implausible.

This novel, the first in the Books of Ember series, is a plot driven piece; characters, on the other hand, act without clear motivation, and are often underdeveloped. The reader is witness to Doon’s anger issues, and there is an explanation that is lightly touched upon, but he never truly struggles to control it; this trait seems to be solved in a lesson learned too quickly. Secondary characters, such as Lina’s neighbor and eventual foster parent of sorts, Mrs. Murdo, is portrayed in a way that hints at a great back story, but it’s one of many that is never explored. Even the mayor, the villain of the piece, is one dimensional.

If readers can get passed a sluggish beginning, if they can weather out inconsistencies, they might enjoy this apocalyptic story enough to want to move on to the next in the series. It wouldn’t be one, however, that I could personally recommend with much enthusiasm.

The House With a Clock in Its Walls is a safe introduction to fantasy for children who’ve yet to explore the genre; emphasis is placed on building a macabre atmosphere bolstered by magic rather than a new world filled with inventive if intimidating language and creatures of imagination. What children will encounter in this book is a real boy with real problems and insecurities, someone they can relate to, who happens to be able to see an illusionary scene straight out of the Battle of Waterloo.

A fantastic addition to the story is Edward Gorey’s illustrations; even without the aid of Bellairs’s words, Gorey’s illustrations would have conveyed the story. Suitably somber and dark, Gorey’s pictures also help children realize a little bit of the magic, showing them what is happening if they can’t make the leap and conjure it on their own.

Hannah Marie is so excited to go trick-or-treating with the big kids; she has complete faith in her cousin, Jimmy, and the flashlight her father gives her to ward away the monsters. When Jimmy tricks her, though, Hannah confronts all of the creatures that go bump in the night, and gets back at her cousin with the help of her Scary Godmother.

Jill Thompson’s charming story and sweet gothic illustrations make for a fun reading experience. What makes it even better, however, is that there is no age limit on this tale; children, teens, and even adults are likely to find something to enjoy here. Halloween, while fun, can be scary, too, and this story takes a little bit of the bite out of it, which makes Scary Godmother perfect for a themed story hour or to read traditionally on October 31st.

Scary Godmother is a wonderful mix of picture book and graphic novel, and because of the blend of straight narrative with comic book panels, it serves a very nice introduction to a new format for younger readers. Highly recommended.

Don Quixote, a knight errant in his own mind, runs through windmills and tackles sleepy lions with his faithful squire, Sancho, at his side. While those he encounters laugh at his madness, Sancho realizes that his master is in possession of a selfless heart and the unflagging desire to do what’s right.

“Sancho, we are what we believe we are…Thus, I am a knight because I believe I am” (p 17.)

Eisner’s playful introduction to Cervantes Don Quixote espouses the importance of dreams in one’s life. Several times throughout the course of this slim graphic novel, Quixote and Sancho discuss the power of believing in a dream and seeking its fulfillment, whether it leads to taunts and jeers or praise. And even though in the end, Quixote was forced to see reality for what it was, his dream inspired escapades had already made him legendary. It’s a very nice message that, despite the frequency with which it is delivered, is a subtle reminder to children to hold onto their dreams as long as they can, and to try to achieve them as best they can.

Though simply told, this graphic novel may be best explored by younger children with a parent to guide them. There are a few panels that depict violence – such as a young boy being whipped – that may lead to questions if not a scare. What keeps the illustrations from becoming too dark is a whimsical touch and a firm grasp of the absurdity of some of the situations in which the knight and squire found themselves.

Overall, it is indeed a nice introduction to Don Quixote’s story, including an appearance made by Cervantes himself, for children and even teen readers.