Middle Grade March

March is here and spring is springing, at least in my town, where the three feet of snow in the front yard has finally melted and the sun is shining. It's time for kites and daffodils and some good middle grade books!

Garden Princess by Kristin Kladstrup

Princess Adela is a girl after my own heart. Well, she’s more enthusiastic about weeding than I am, but she loves gardening, as I do. Actually, Adela lives and breathes gardening, which worries her well-meaning stepmother. How will the princess ever find a husband with all that dirt under her fingernails? Then Garth the handsome gardener’s boy gets an invitation to a garden party from the mysterious Lady Hortensia, and he asks Adela to come with him so that she can help him follow proper etiquette. Adela’s pretty stepsister Marguerite gets an invitation, too. Adela can’t wait to see Lady Hortensia’s famous gardens.

Then we see Lady Hortensia in her garden, accompanied by a talking magpie named Krazo. It won’t take long for readers to realize that the lady is up to no good. Her plans for her party guests threaten to be self-serving, and she seems to know some magic, besides.

Sure enough, when Adela gets to the party, she finds out that Lady Hortensia is an evil enchantress (think Circe). Now everyone but Adela is under a spell, and she sneaks around trying to figure out what to do. But her friends are gone or have turned against her, and she can’t hide out forever.

The book is not very long, and the prose is clear and friendly. Here is Adela’s description of part of Lady Hortensia’s garden before the princess figures out that something is very wrong. At this point, Adela is wondering how the woman can have spring, summer, and fall flowers at the same time.

How different Hortensia’s garden was from the gardens at home! The palace gardens had wide-open lawns and terraces—broad bands of colors and texture. But this garden felt closed in and secret, with surprises at every turn. The roses were astonishing. They were all different from one another: damasks, centifolias, china roses, tea roses, musk roses, and ramblers and scramblers that threw themselves up and over the walls. The roses can’t have been moved from a greenhouse, Adela decided. Hortensia must have been cultivating them in the ground for years.

Garden Princess is a fun story that reads like an adventurous fairy tale. And there is a rather sweet romance. Adela is a kind and determined heroine, with Krazo—not Garth—playing the role of sidekick. I found the first three fourths to be a bit better than the last fourth, but all in all the book is a cheery, fast-paced read, with a beautiful if ominously enchanted garden that seems just right for spring.

A Tangle of Knots by Lisa Graff

The world Graff creates is a lot like ours, except that many people have Talents—some great and some small. Cady has such a powerful gift for baking the perfect cake that she’s won the Sunshine Bakeoff every year since she was five. Cady lives in Miss Malory’s Home for Lost Girls, which is often practically empty because kindly Miss Malory has a Talent for finding orphans just the right homes. Miss Malory hasn’t been able to find the right home for Cady, but when a man named Toby shows up, it seems that will change.

Meanwhile, the Owner of the Lost Luggage Emporium is doing something uncanny to each of his customers and evidencing an unusual interest in a certain kind of powder blue suitcase. This will remind readers of the prologue, but what’s the connection?

At the same time, a girl named Marigold Asher tries and tries to find her Talent. She’s even jealous of her brother Zane, whose Talent is for spitting. We also encounter an old woman who has lost her memory and then the nurse who cares for her. We meet Marigold and Asher’s small brother Will, who apparently has a Talent for getting lost. Then there’s the man in the gray suit, who is more than a little magical and seems to be manipulating events.

All of these stories will touch each other. We learn at the end of Chapter 2 that six of the eight rooms above the Lost Luggage Emporium are for rent.

The Owner didn’t know it then, but in just one short week, all eight rooms would be filled. Some would be occupied by people with great Talents, others would not. One would house a thief, a person in possession of an object worth millions of dollars. Several would be inhabited by liars. But every last person would have something in common.
 In just one short week, every last one of them would have lost the thing they treasured most in the world.

Which, you've got to admit, is a pretty enticing statement! 

While the magical elements are well delineated, A Tangle of Knots reads more like magical realism than fantasy to me, that and a touch of Ray Bradbury. I am curious about the title. Certainly it speaks to the interconnectedness of people, especially the people in the book. But I’m not sure Graff wants to untangle the tangles or unknot the knots. I suspect she doesn’t even think that’s possible. Because don’t the knots hold people together even if life is often tangly? Graff’s book shows us that human kindness and connections are more important than talents or Talents. Her cast is fairly large, but she manages to imbue her characters with individual importance and nuance. A Tangle of Knots is a thoughtful new book for the magically minded middle grade reader.

The Girl from Felony Bay by J.E. Thompson (5/13)

Abbey Force used to live on a beautiful old plantation in South Carolina, but her father has been injured and is in a coma. He is also accused of being a thief and has lost everything. Now Abbey lives with her Uncle Charlie and his wife. They’re an awful pair, and Charlie seems to have betrayed Abbey’s father in some way.

Determined to clear her father’s name, Abbey finds an unexpected ally in a girl who moves into Abbey’s old home, Reward Plantation. Here the author makes an interesting choice: newcomer Bee is also a Force, and she is African American. It is possible that Bee’s ancestors used to be slaves to Abbey’s ancestors. And now Bee lives in the manor house while Abbey lives in a little old broken-down place. Bee has been badly injured in a car accident and now walks with a cane.

Other players in this tale are a bully named Jimmy Simmons and his father, a pugnacious sheriff’s deputy, and a black boy named Skoogie who lives with his grandmother and is often a target for Jimmy’s bullying. We also meet some lawyers who were partners with Abbey's father at his law firm. Will they help Abbey with her quest?

As Abbey tries to find out more about what happened to her father, she stirs up trouble and uncovers mysterious doings in a part of the plantation named Felony Bay. But—the land isn’t part of Reward Plantation anymore. Why not? As Abbey and her friends get closer to the truth, they find themselves in serious danger. Let’s just say alligators are involved. But eventually the mystery is solved and Abbey finds her answers.

The sections about Abbey’s father are poignant, but Thompson is wise enough to handle them matter-of-factly. Here Abbey is visiting her father, talking to him in hopes that he will hear her and wake up.

I really did get straight As, but I hadn’t told Daddy that I was no longer going to Miss Walker’s School for Girls, I also hadn’t told him that Reward Plantation had been sold or that Timmy [her pony] had been sold or that I was living with Uncle Charlie and Ruth and pretty much hated every minute of it. Daddy had always raised me to tell the truth, but there was no way I could tell him the truth about my life. I was afraid if I told him what it was really like, he might never want to wake up.
 I made up some happy stories about things I had done and places I had gone with old friends from Miss Walker’s, and when I couldn’t think of any more good lies to tell, I took out A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens and went to my bookmark and started to read from where I had stopped the last time.

The Girl from Felony Bay is a well-written adventure story, a nice blend of friendships, mysterious goings-on, and peril in the swamps, not to mention treasure hunting and treachery. A satisfying read for the middle grade crowd.

Note: Thanks to Walden Pond Press for a review copy of this book.

A Review of Secret Letters by Leah Scheier

This one reminds me of the Agency series by Y.S. Lee. Some people might connect it to Laurie R. King’s adult mystery series about Mary Russell and Sherlock Holmes, but I don’t know if I’d go that far. Secret Letters is the story of a girl who finds out she is not her father’s daughter; she is actually the daughter of Sherlock Holmes. In the first chapter of the book, Dora Joyce travels to London with her cousin, Adelaide (AKA Lady Forrester). Supposedly they are going to enlist the great detective’s help in getting some letters back from a man who is blackmailing Adelaide, but of course Dora wants to meet her birth father. She has actually been reading Dr. John Watson’s accounts of her father’s adventures and has taken up detecting in her country home, to the bewilderment and dismay of her relatives.

Unfortunately, Dora arrives at 221 Baker Street on the very day it is announced that Sherlock Holmes is dead. Dora swoons at the news. She is revived by a young detective named Peter Cartwright who appears to know something about Sherlock and maybe even about her. Dora and Peter are a classic clashing couple after the manner of Hepburn and Tracy. They begin to match wits, and later Adelaide hires Peter and his bumbling senior detective, Mr. Porter, to work on the blackmail case. In the meantime, Peter takes on the case of a missing young woman, Lady Rose. With some reluctance, he agrees to let Dora go to Hartfield Hall to pose as a maid and get some answers about the girl’s disappearance.

So that’s the setup, and Dora plays detective to her heart’s content, putting herself in great danger along the way and occasionally sparring with young Peter, to whom she is increasingly attracted. This is a fun read, but I found it less convincing than Lee’s series. The characters seem like actors in a play rather than real people, at least in parts of the book. At times they make choices that seem out of character. The most glaring example is when Dora sings and dances on a table in a country pub. Even though we are shown that Dora is a bold girl, her background does matter, and this particular incident seems forced and unnecessary. The breathless not-quite-romance and banter between Dora and Peter didn’t quite work for me, either. I also feel like Dora, while portrayed as a girl of action, is fairly ineffectual compared to Peter. Or rather, she gets herself into trouble being impulsive and determined, so then Peter and others have to rescue her. I expected her to be a little more cool-headed in certain ways, I suppose.

Here is a sample passage in which Peter is worrying about sending Dora off to the manor house:

When I re-entered the sitting room, Peter Cartwright was pacing by the window, chewing alternately on a cinnamon pastry and his thumbnail. The tension in his face had not eased at all; he appeared more distant and uncomfortable than before. I curtsied casually, but he stared helplessly at me without responding to my smile; even when I lisped out, “Well, Your Lordship?” [in character as the maid] he did not move.
     This was not the careless boy I knew; he seemed so awkward now, so raw and restless. I wanted to call out to him, to bring him back, to shake him, to be bold and silly so that he might mock me one more time. This creeping quiet troubled me, not just because it was unnatural for him but also because I was beginning to suspect that I was actually the cause of it. Was he doubting my abilities? I wondered suddenly. Was he going to change his mind and send me home?

Still, Secret Letters is not a bad read. I think a lot of people will enjoy it very much. And it will be interesting to see what Scheier does with Book 2, especially considering that, as most readers will be aware, Sherlock Holmes is not actually dead. I liked a cameo appearance by Dr. Watson near the end of the book, by the way (he goes unnamed).

If you’re up for this premise and don’t mind a middle grade read, you might also try Nancy Springer’s books about Sherlock Holmes’ much younger sister, Enola Holmes. They’re very good.

Note for Worried Parents: This is a book for teens, and there is some talk and a little peril having to do with seduction and unwed mothers.

A Review of Spy School by Stuart Gibbs

A geeky boy goes to spy school, thinking his dreams are coming true, only to find out he got in for all the wrong reasons. And his insta-crush? Well, picture James Bond having a daughter who's just as kick-butt as he is, or more. In this case, James Bond is Alexander Hale, who recruits 12-year-old Ben Ripley to go to spy school, basically sweeping him off his feet with weapons and swashbuckliness.

Then Ben gets to the Academy of Espionage and is stunned to find himself in the middle of an attack. An older girl named Erica helps him make his way into the building and upstairs, with Ben fumbling every step of the way. Turns out this was all a test, and he didn't do so well.

Which meant I was now flanked by six heavily armed me in total darkness.

So I did the only other thing I could think of: I prepared to surrender.

I raised my hands over my head and backed against the principal's door, accidentally bumping the handle.

It lowered with a click.

Apparently, I'd unlocked it.

All six flashlight beams swung toward the sound.

I slipped into the darkened office, slammed the door shut, and promptly ran right into a coffee table. It cut me off at the knees, and I face-planted on the carpet.

The lights snapped on again.

I reflexively tucked myself into a ball and yelled, "Please don't kill me! I don't know anything! I just started here today!"

"Begging for mercy?" said a disappointed voice. "That's D-quality performance for sure."

There were murmurs of assent.

I slowly lifted my eyes from the deep-pile carpet. Instead of a horde of assassins facing me, I found myself facing a conference table.

Ben continues to bumble his way through being a student at the academy, where everyone else seems to be equal parts super-athlete and genius. So why is he the target of a real assassin? Why does his file say he has mad skills and is working on a special project?

To Ben's surprise, Erica continues to help him out, as does his new friend, the cynical Murray Hill. Erica is the best spy student in the school. Her attention to Ben makes the other kids believe he must be secretly superior, which leads to some funny assumptions and situations. The humor really makes this book a kick to read—particularly the satire about fictional spies and extra-special, gifted students in books like this one.

Ben is a pleasantly flawed and determined main character. As he plays detective with Erica's assistance, he starts catching glimpses of what might really be going on. Ben may not have the makings of a cinematic superspy, but he's a pretty smart kid, especially when it comes to math.

I do wish Gibbs had found a few more ways of using Ben's math abilities, although I understand Ben is simply trying to survive for most of the book. But eventually the pieces of the puzzle start coming together. Ben is both disillusioned and heartened to find out the truth about spy school, his own role there, and the villainous plot he's determined to stop. A cool summer read for upper middle grade and middle schoolers with both boy and girl appeal. Also—I'm guessing—the start of a very fun new series.

Note: If you like Spy School, try Chris Rylander's The Fourth Stall, Trenton Lee Stuart's Mysterious Benedict Society series, and Pseudonymous Bosch's Secret series.

A Review of The Inquisitor's Apprentice by Chris Moriarty

Picture Sherlock Holmes and the Baker Street Irregulars... Now plop them into New York City, make the Irregulars into a rich girl and a poor Jewish boy, and add a generous dose of magic. Nope, still not a good enough analogy. But it leads you in the right direction, where you'll find Sacha Kessler, a boy from an alternate version of New York's Lower East Side in the days of Thomas Edison, who is a key character in the story. (Hmm. Perhaps this author's last name inspired me to think of Sherlock.)

Chapter One is titled with precision: "The Boy Who Could See Witches." When Sacha blurts out that he can actually see the magic created by Mrs. Lasscha in her bakery, he is caught by a New York Police Department Inquisitor, who proceeds to recruit him. Not that he has much choice! Sacha has to take an IQ (Inquisitorial Quotient) test, which confirms his magical ability. Sacha finds himself apprenticed to an odd, colorful detective named Maximillian Wolf. Here's the detective:

In a city like New York, charm was cheap. Any shopgirl or salesman could buy a little glamour to help win the next sale or just get that extra edge it took to get ahead, and most did. It wasn't exactly legal, but it worked. And New Yorkers were too ambitious to turn down anything that worked.

But Inquisitor Wolf didn't seem to think he needed that kind of help. In fact, he seemed to go to great lengths to be as unglamorous and unmagical as possible. His long, lanky legs were encased in baggy trousers that had never seen the inside of a tailor's shop, let alone a fitting spell. His jacket hung off his bony shoulder like a scarecrow's sack. His hair looked like it hadn't been brushed for weeks. His spectacles were covered with smudges and fingerprints. And his dishwater-gray eyes wore a sleepy, absentminded look that seemed to say Wolf was still waiting for the day to bring him something worth waking up for.

As far as Sacha could tell, the only remotely interesting thing about Maximillian Wolf was the extraordinary collection of food stains on his tie.

Moriarty's premise and world building are utterly delightful. The first few chapters give us a wonderful Jewish neighborhood in late nineteenth-century New York. For example, there's Sacha's uncle the anarchist and the neighbors who share a flat with Sacha's family: Mrs. Lehrer spends years sewing her savings into the lining of a coat. The baker, Mrs. Lassky, makes mildly bespelled pastries such as "Deliciously Efficacious Knishes...guaranteed to get any girl married within the year." The Wobblies are the Industrial Witches of the World, and the villain of the tale is a scarcely disguised Robber Baron, J.P. Morgaunt, while Sacha's fellow apprentice is gutsy Lily Astral (nice play on the name Aster!).

Then there's the shadowy figure who seems to be following Sacha... what does he want?

Sacha's family is proud of him for getting such a good job, and Sacha tries to focus on learning everything he can from the surprising Inquisitor Wolf. He also begins to tolerate and then appreciate Lily, who is tougher than she looks.

The mystery the team is trying to solve has to do with an attempt on Thomas Edison's life, but that winds up being only a small part of a much more complex and devious plan. Moriarty's plot takes a couple of surprising turns as the story progresses, working its way up to a highly dramatic climax involving Houdini.

The Rag and Bone Man, Hexers, and dybbuks mix it up with other strange magical influences and famous figures (slightly revised) in this well-written, satisfying historical fantasy. (Be sure and watch for an appearance by Teddy Roosevelt.) Although the plot wraps up nicely, we are left with a dark glimpse of the next book. I can't wait to read the sequel!

Note: I requested a copy of this book from Amazon Vine. The Inquisitor's Apprentice will be out on October 4.

Update, 9-29-11: Check out Kate Milford's interview with author Chris Moriarty at the Enchanted Inkpot.

A Review of The Case of the Gypsy Good-bye by Nancy Springer

While I'm not the world's biggest fan of historical fiction, I'm definitely a Jane Austen fan, and I know I'm not alone in this. So I'm happy to see that various authors have found ways of reinventing girl-power fiction from the Victorian/Edwardian era, and I'm not even talking about Seth Grahame-Smith's Pride and Prejudice and Zombies. (See my neo-Austen riff which includes his book.)

The Case of the Gypsy Good-bye is a book from Springer's reinvention of the Sherlock Holmes stories, part of a series that's the best new take on Holmes since Laurie R. King introduced Mary Russell to the great detective for adult readers. Nancy Springer has envisioned a much younger sister for Holmes, a fourteen-year-old girl he and Mycroft try to pop into a boarding school when their mother disappears. But Enola, who's just as bright as you'd expect Sherlock's sister to be, takes to the streets of London instead. There she crafts a new identity for herself, becoming what she calls a "perditorian," a private detective specializing in finding lost people. Of course, more than anything, she'd like to find her own mother—a theme that runs through the series.

In this seventh and final book, Enola searches for the missing Lady Blanchefleur del Campo, even as her older brother searches for her yet again. In the past, Sherlock and Mycroft tried to find Enola in order to put her in school, but as Sherlock's path has crossed with hers over the course of six books, he has acquired a great respect for his sister's wits as well as her goals. Now he wants to find her because he's received a special package from their missing mother, one whose message only Enola can decipher.

Enola is a remarkable narrator and heroine, calculating, organized, and daring, a female Sherlock with youthful exuberance to lend her a fresh feel. Here is a sample of how she thinks and acts:

I had found out what I needed to know, namely that people survived the tunnels without being crushed by trains, as evidenced by the presence of the tosher. I needed shabby clothing, a lantern, a large stick, and a Cockney attitude before I again attempted to explore these underground passages in hopes of hypothesizing where the Duquessa might have been taken. With my heart still thumping from the encounter with the hostile troll of the tracks, I reclaimed my valise from the station-master, then fled upstairs, glad to reach the light and air (comparatively speaking) of Dorsett Square, through the middle of which ran Baker Street.

Keeping a cool head as always, Enola manages to handle her older brothers while tracking down the missing woman. She also finally gets some answers about why her mother abandoned her. I highly recommend this entire series for bright young readers who will be drawn by the intelligence of both the language and of the main character. I should note for history buffs that Springer paints a marvelous picture of turn-of-the-century London, as well.

Aside from the now-classic Nancy Drew books, there are relatively few strong mystery series for middle grade readers these days. Peter Abrahams' Echo Falls books come to mind (Down the Rabbit Hole, etc.), and I like Dorothy and Thomas Hoobler's mysteries set in 18th century Japan (The Ghost in the Tokaido Inn, etc.), not to mention Carl Hiaasen's ecological suspense titles for kids (Hoot, etc.). In addition, Karen Karbo's underappreciated Minerva Clark mysteries are YA, but would be great for many in grades 4-6 as well as middle schoolers (though a few bad words might put you off, e.g., "bitch").

And, as Booklist reviewer Ilene Cooper puts it, "The series that features Enola Holmes, the (much) younger sister of Sherlock, continues to be flat-out among the best mysteries being written for young people today."

A Review of The Agency: A Spy in the House by Y.S. Lee

Earlier this week, I read the new book in Ally Carter's Gallagher Girls series, Only the Good Spy Young, about a girls' boarding school that trains young spies. (Carter's series is a lot of fun!) Turn back the clock to Victorian-era London and you'll find Miss Scrimshaw's Academy for Girls, which has a similar mission. There bright lower-class girls are taught to be proper maids and ladies' companions, little knowing that the best of them will be recruited to act as spies while they're at it.

Orphan Mary Quinn is headed to the gallows for stealing bread at the age of 12 when she is abruptly rescued by a woman posing as a prison matron. Four years of study later, she finds out the secret of Scrimshaw Academy when she is invited to become a spy. An adventurous soul at heart, Mary accepts the invitation—and her first mission.

Mary is sent to be a lady's companion to an unpleasant merchant's daughter named Angelica, but her true purpose is to spy on the household, since Mr. Therold is suspected of buying and selling stolen artifacts in the Far East, crimes that technically occur outside of Scotland Yard's jurisdiction.

Mary soon chaffs at the feeling that she isn't getting much spying done, although she has been assigned merely to assist the primary agent on the case, whose identity she does not know. She wonders why the invalid Mrs. Therold goes to the doctor every afternoon, deals with the difficult Angelica as best she can, and tries to decide why a family acquaintance, James Easton, appears to be spying on the family, as well. (Um, could he be the agent? Or is he up to something else?) Although Mrs. Therold is encouraging Angelica to win the heart of James's besotted older brother, George, Angelica seems to be more interested in James herself. For his part, James seems attracted to Mary. Of course, at first he merely acts suspicious and cranky towards Mary, as well he might, considering she dresses up as a boy and sneaks out in the middle of the night to search Mr. Therold's warehouse.

While the touch of romance is fun, A Spy in the House is really focused on the mystery of the stolen artifacts and Mary's efforts to solve it, efforts that quickly outpace the scope of her original assignment. Along the way, Mary also manages to help the prickly Angelica, who has troubles of her own. Lee does an interesting job of making readers hate Angelica early in the book, then come to feel sorry for her later on.

A visit to a Lascars' refuge (an old folks home for Asian sailors) not only has a bearing on the case, but turns up surprising information about Mary's own past. Then the bodies start to pile up, and James begins to worry about Mary's safety, which irritates her no end. The boy really should worry about his own safety, and hope that Mary will be around to rescue him!

Fun (and impressive!) fact: The author has a Ph.D. in Victorian literature and culture.

This fresh take on the spy genre promises us more adventures with its supertitle, "A Mary Quinn Mystery." The narrative moves along briskly, and the power of Mary's longing to make more of herself—her longing for a challenge, really—makes her a heroine worth caring about. I'll be watching for Book 2.

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.