A Review of The Brixton Brothers: The Case of the Case of Mistaken Identity by Mac Barnett

Normally, I would question whether a parody seemingly intended for people over the age of 30 could appeal to kids, but I am reassured by two things: 1) Today's children are familiar with parody in the form of Simpsons and even Spongebob Squarepants episodes, and 2) Mac Barnett covers his bases by providing snippets from a mock-original book series he's created.

And what snippets they are! The target, of course, is the Hardy Boys detective series (whose characters inevitably remind me of boy bands like 'N Sync). Barnett's Steve Brixton believes in those dashing supersleuths, the Bailey Brothers, having practically memorized their books. Here's a sample we're given from Bailey Brothers #13, The Mystery of the Hidden Secret:

"Jumping jackals!" dark-haired Shawn exclaimed, pointing to the back wall of the dusty old parlor. "Look, Kevin! That bookcase looks newer than the rest!"
"General George Washington!" his blond older brother cried out. "I think you're right!" Kevin rubbed his chin and thought. "Hold on just a minute, Shawn. This mansion has been abandoned for years. So who would have built a new bookcase?"
Shawn and Kevin grinned at each other. "The robbers!" they shouted in unison.

(Note the over-use of adjectives and the pointed deliberation. Barnett is having a good time with this!)

When Steve encounters a mystery of his own while fulfilling an obnoxious school assignment, he is surprised and disappointed to find that the Bailey Brothers' methods don't always pan out in real life. He is even more surprised to learn that the town librarians are secret agents.

Yes, I know, that sounds like Brandon Sanderson's Alcatraz versus the Evil Librarians. But trust me, Barnett has a new take on it. For one thing, his librarians are fighting evil. For another, you'll be so caught up in the satire that the librarians will just flow in with the rest of the story. At least, that was my experience reading this book.

Steve's bible is The Bailey Brothers Detective Handbook. It tells him, among other things, how to "size up suspicious characters." This proves useful "if you're eating dinner with safecrackers, or cat burglars, or your mother's new boyfriend." In meeting the latter, Steve checks the book's list of villains, which includes "The Tough," "The Ringleader," and "The Hermit," all very old-fashioned and stereotyped, natch. Rick turns out to be a cop, and Steve solves a case for him in a manner more reminiscent of Encyclopedia Brown than the Hardy Boys, though Rick doesn't accept his solution, not at the moment.

Then Steve's teacher assigns him to research early American needlework. When he goes to the local library and checks out a book called An Illustrated History of American Quilting, a group of shadowy figures bursts through the skylight and doors and starts to chase him. Oddly enough, the Bailey Brothers' list of useful hiding places doesn't help one bit. Pretty soon Steve is stepping into a black limo at gunpoint and having a conversation with a very buff librarian named Mackintosh. All because he checked out a particular book and presented his Bailey Brothers Detective License instead of his library card at the front desk...

I can't even begin to tell you all the little in-jokes (e.g., about posters of basketball players reading books), but Barnett manages to make this story, not only smart, but funny, and without trying too hard. The Case of the Case of Mistaken Identity is tongue-in-cheek all the way. I should note that Barnett doesn't simply satirize the Hardy Boys by setting Steve Brixton up against grim reality; he stylizes the characters around Steve, having them act a little like the players in a Hardy Boys mystery—just enough to be funny.

What this book really reminds me of is M.T. Anderson's Whales on Stilts, which is high praise indeed. Except that Barnett's liberal inclusion of his pseudo-source material makes his story all the more accessible to young readers who might not otherwise understand just what he's satirizing. The fact that this book isn't 600 pages long will also appeal to some readers. (It's a tidy 179.)

Adam Rex's illustrations, appropriately retro and slightly satirical in style, add to the storytelling. You may remember this author-illustrator from The True Meaning of Smekday and his picture book of poems, Frankenstein Makes a Sandwich.

The past decade has seen a wave of books intended for boys, contemporary adventure and mystery series trying to reach a surprisingly sophisticated audience whose expectations have been honed by movies, TV, and video games. Today's 4th-6th graders like to feel like they're in on the joke. So yes, I think some of the kids who watch The Simpsons will get a kick out of something as clever and entertaining as Mac Barnett's Brixton Brothers.

A Review of The Curse of the Ancient Mask and Other Case Files by Simon Cheshire

This book makes no bones about following in the footsteps of Encyclopedia Brown. Saxby Smart, Private Detective even has a shed out in the backyard where he solves cases and awaits clients. Since Encyclopedia Brown is arguably dated, I can see a need for a new approach. The question is, how well does Saxby Smart fill the great boy’s shoes?

British Saxby informs us that all of his middle names come from famous fictional detectives; his entire moniker is Saxby Doyle Christie Chandler Ellin Allan Smart. “The Allan is from Edgar Allan Poe,” he explains. Saxby addresses his readers, inviting them to help him solve the cases: “Unlike some detectives, I don’t have a sidekick, so that part I’m leaving up to you—pay attention, I’ll ask questions.” Personally, I like being invited to be the sidekick!

The format for involving readers is different than in the Encyclopedia Brown series. Instead of providing end-of-chapter solutions, Saxby just stops the story midstream and, as he has warned us he will do, asks a question. I was pleased to see that Saxby sometimes goes down the wrong path and has to backtrack, which he readily points out to his sidekick reader. He also acknowleges when he acquires a piece of useful information by sheer good luck. (Teachers will find that this book promotes critical thinking!)

As our story begins, Saxby alludes to his earlier work on cases such as “The Adventure of the Misplaced Action Figure” and “The Case of the Eaten Cookies.” But now he’s moving on to the big time, three cases worthy of a real sleuth. The first, “The Curse of an Ancient Mask,” is about the theft of ideas from a high-tech company where Saxby’s friend Jasmine’s father works. Ever since Jasmine’s father brought back an ornate mask from Japan, his best inventions have been stolen by a rival company. Having been warned when he bought the mask that it was cursed, Jasmine’s father believes the curse is coming true. But when Saxby is brought in as a consultant, he looks for a more scientific explanation.

The other two cases in the book are “The Mark of the Purple Homework” and “The Clasp of Doom.” All three cases are recounted in a friendly, contemporary way, with new characters who are well defined and sometimes colorful—especially the villains. Watch out for a smirking Harry Lovecraft in Case Two and the unpleasant Mrs. Eileen Pither in Case Three. The clues and mysteries are just the right speed for second or third graders, and the addition of pages from Saxby’s notebook add to the fun. A couple of plot points were less credible than others, though. For example, would Jasmine’s father really believe in a curse? Given his work, he’d probably solve the mystery much the same way Saxby does. But this example simply highlights an aspect of the series that is also taken from the tradition of Encyclopedia Brown: the kids are smarter than the grown-ups.

The illustrations are just right, by the way. R.W. Alley’s cheery line drawings perfectly support the text and give us a very appealing Saxby.

Apparently The Curse of the Ancient Mask is the first Saxby Smart book, and a second book came out in February of this year: The Eye of the Serpent and Other Case Files. No one can ever completely take the place of Encyclopedia Brown, but Saxby Smart is shaping up to be a worthy successor to the boy who sits in a battered chair in his backyard office, solving other kids’ mysteries.

A Review of The Niña, the Pinta, and the Vanishing Treasure by Jill Santopolo

Meet Alec Flint, Super Sleuth, another contender for the young detective throne. Self-proclaimed sleuth Alec takes his work seriously, and like Encyclopedia Brown, his father is a police detective. Unlike Encyclopedia, Alec spends an entire book solving just one case.

I would love to tell you this is a promising series start, but unfortunately, it’s kind of a shaky debut. Alec seems like a nice kid, and the basic premise of two converging subplots—a missing Christopher Columbus museum exhibit and the disappearance of an art teacher from Alec’s school—is a winner. I also really liked the inclusion of a secret code introduced by Alec’s new friend and partner, Gina. And I got a kick out of the way the author describes Alec’s bouncy neighbor, Emily.

Two things didn’t work for me, though. One is the way the main characters don’t always sound like real kids thinking or talking, more like the way grown-ups imagine kids thinking or talking. It doesn’t help that in spots the dialogue just seems wooden. And in more than one instance, we’re given just a few bland lines, followed by more action or description. As a friend in one of my writing groups was pointing out, dialogue should move the story forward. It should also enrich your understanding of the characters.

Here’s a sample of Alec talking in the book, explaining his plans to Gina:

“Well,” said Alec Flint. “I think I already have an important mystery to solve. It’s about a missing Christopher Columbus exhibit at the museum. I’m helping my dad. But he’s not a super sleuth—he’s a police officer, which is sort of like a super sleuth but a little bit different.”

On a related note, the child characters often seem younger than they are supposed to be. One example that distracted me from the story was when Alec and Gina couldn’t reach the top of a copy machine without standing on a stool. Supposedly these kids are fourth graders, but when I saw that I went back and checked—were they actually second graders? Then I realized that they were talking like second graders part of the time, too. Even C.B. Canga’s illustrations make the young characters seem different ages, as they appear to be thirteen or so in several of the drawings.

The other key concern I have is the mystery, which turns out to lack credibility. Suffice it to say that the way the villain sets up the theft is absolutely outside the realm of possibility at an actual museum. (Ironically, the art heist in Elise Broach’s Masterpiece is more realistic, despite the beetles who act like little people!)

The Niña, the Pinta, and the Vanishing Treasure is a pleasant book, even amusing in spots, but it made me uncomfortable because it condescends to kids, though I’m sure without meaning to. I hope that the author gets into the swing of things with her next offering, since Alec Flint has potential. But the boy needs to sound like a real fourth grader and address mysteries which are a bit more convincing.

A Review of Nana Cracks the Case by Kathleen Lane

It seems a guy named Cabell Harris (great name!) came up with this concept and Kathleen Lane ended up writing it, with Sarah Horne doing the illustrations. I’m not sure who made these arrangements, but Lane takes the ball and runs with it.

Did I say runs with it? Actually, Lane takes the ball, paints it purple, dribbles it down the aisles of the grocery store while the paint’s still wet, and then lobs it through a neighbor’s window. Next she chortles.

Every once in a while a children’s book author presents a little old lady (or, less often, a little old man) as a sort of pseudo-kid or pseudo-adult—both, really. Considering how small, brilliant, and mischievous my own grandmother was clear into her nineties, this makes perfect sense to me. Here’s how the back cover puts it:

Nanas, you see, are not supposed to become backhoe operators or marine biologists or circus performers (actually Nana did not join the circus, she only substituted while the trapeze artist recovered from a broken leg), and they must never—because they are so very fragile, you see—become detectives.

More important, you should know that Nana has a book on her kitchen table called The Joy of Napping. The book jacket is a fake: it’s there to fool her highly anxious daughter, the mother of her grandchildren. Beneath the false cover is Nana’s real reading material, say, a book about tightrope walking. A lovely touch from our publishers is that if you turn the cover of Nana Cracks the Case over, you will see The Joy of Napping jacket, complete with yawner quotes like this one from Dusty McThud: “I can’t believe I wasted so much time striving for excellence when I could have been napping instead.”

Nana’s grandchildren, Bog and Eufala, know her secret. Like Nana, the two kids devote a certain amount of energy to keeping their worrywart mother from worrying. And like Nana, they are highly talented troublemakers. For example, one of their mother’s numerous rules is never to open the front door. So we read:

And that is why Eufala and Bog did not open the front door. Never in a million years would they have so much as touched the doorknob of the front door.

Anyhow, why open the front door when the kitchen window worked just as well—and, they had found, was much less likely to draw the attention of the neighbors?

Nana’s new goal of becoming a police detective soon intersects with her grandchildren’s latest activities, and shenanigans happily scramble across the pages for the rest of the book. One of the funniest things about Nana is that she continues to be a little old lady. She keeps forgetting things, never taking the direct route anywhere, a trend highlighted by the discrepancy between the author’s words and the illustrations. And watch for how Nana handles the reporters at the crime scene.

There’s a touch of Lemony Snicket here if you listen for it. But the book’s humor stands on its own, giddily over the top.

I will tell you that Nana Cracks the Case is less invested in its mystery than the books reviewed above; the author is having far too much fun with Nana and her devious grandkids for that. But it is easily the best of the three in terms of sheer enjoyment. Edgar Awards, Schmedgar Awards—if I had to pick just one, this would be it.