BRAT: Autumn 2005 Issue

BRAT is published as part of the Book Council's quarterly magazine Booknotes.

It includes profiles of authors on the Writers in Schools programme, and a round up of recently published New Zealand books for children and young people.

To receive the latest issues of BRAT hot off the press, join the Book Council.

Books for Readers and Teachers

Intermediate Fiction

Seal Boy by Ken Catran (Random House, $16.95)
The prolific Ken Catran, always interested in New Zealand’s past, offers another historic tale: this time set at sea during the height of the whaling and sealing industries. An adventure of impressive proportions is foisted upon rich-kid Emmet after an unfortunate chain of events sees him dumped on board a whaler, which promptly sets sail for the Pacific. Emmet’s quick to learn that his posh background is a disadvantage – that survival depends on quite different skills. These he sets about obtaining. By the novel’s end, the boy is a culturally attuned, brave, and selfless guardian of the seals, willing to forgo his own rescue in exchange for their survival. He’s essentially a likeable, if earnest, lad; however, he never truly finds a place in the reader’s affections. The novel, while heavy on action, is light on character development, and the details of Emmet’s inner journey remain a well-kept secret. His new found maturity is revealed instead through abrupt changes in attitude and behaviour. The interesting, well-written content serves as an effective distraction from these minor faults, although the final third feels disjointed and rushed. Some of the historic detail, particularly that to do with whaling life, is also at times crudely woven into the fabric of the story. 11–14 years.

Senior Fiction

Dark by Penelope Todd (Longacre, $18.95)
By contrast, language and characterisation are two of the strongest features in Penelope Todd’s fifth novel, the sequel to Watermark. Zillah, the novel’s strong-willed, very together protagonist, returns to the West Coast, where she endures a repeat performance of the previous year’s test of character – despite the fact that her character is sound in the first place. Her boyfriend’s isn’t, however, and Joss’s unravelling takes centre stage. The cause of his psychotic behaviour remains unexplored – Zillah’s more pressing concern being choosing the best course of action as his mental distress threatens to overwhelm them all. Thrown into this heady mix is the stroppy Felicity. Like Zillah and Hep, she has a fully fleshed personality that’s created with remarkable ease, her unwelcome presence adding further tension. The heavy terrain covered by the novel is relieved by Todd’s accomplished writing. As always, she’s succinct and evocative, delivering high-quality prose. The publishers claim the novel is suitable for readers from 13 up, however, even the most mature 13-year-old may have difficulty coping with the challenging content.

Protus Rising by Ken Catran (University of Queensland Press/Penguin, $22.00)
This one is a brainteaser. As with most works of science fiction, there is a multiplicity of new concepts to get your head around. Declan wakes from an apparent nine months of deep sleep onboard the spaceship Copernicus – only it appears he’s been out to it for 18 months and has no memory of exploring Jupiter, the purpose of their mission. Discoveries of a more disturbing nature await: a dead commander, missing crew, and essential operational systems on the blink. Catran’s tight, energetic prose wrestles maximum tension from the plot, which is densely woven and requires full attention. If this is given, the book is a rewarding read. It contains interesting ideas that have been cleverly put together. The challenge is increased by a mixed use of tenses. Although clearly indicated by a different font, this multi-layered approach to time was perhaps unnecessary. Events unfolding in real time only would have eased the reader’s passage. A steep price for such a slim paperback. 13 years plus.

The Swap by Wendy Catran (Lothian, $16.95)
Catran’s historic novel has a shaky start. Set in New Zealand during the 1940s and 50s, it juxtaposes two stories: that of teenage Maree, whose brother returns from the Korean War married to a 16-year-old Japanese girl; and that of the younger Sakura and her time interned ten years earlier as an enemy alien. The promising content is, at first, clumsily handled. The initial scene setting is achieved in a series of over-written snapshots, and the text collapses even further under the weight of forced, detailed descriptions. Catran bombards the reader with information in a staccato style instead of allowing it to filter through gently and in a more organic fashion.

A red-gold sky, freshly painted, gave way to day-time-brilliant blues and greens. Palms and people fluttered, water sparkled and quivered, slapped at ship shapes in the harbour. Pearl Harbor, a jewel in the Pacific. Home now to the American fleet, proud and strong. Into this came a dull sound, drowning birdsong. People looked up in disbelief, saw long man-made shapes in the sky, coming in waves. The planes disgorged their deadly cargo and thousands died. Wirelesses in America crackled – Yesterday, 7 December 1941… . In Tonga, which was sometimes called the Friendly Isles, a car, dark and sleek like a funeral car, slid to a stop outside a simple house.

Once the business side of things is out of the way, the text settles down and Catran finds a more comfortable style, although she never quite manages to forgo cliché. Catran’s writing does have potential. She’s thoughtful and has a great deal of empathy – and she obviously enjoys playing with language and working it into different shapes. 12–15 years.

Picture Books

Uncle Glenn and Me Too by Glenn Colquhoun; illustrated by Kevin Wildman (Reed, $14.99)
Colquhoun’s tongue-in-cheek text celebrates the silliness that children so often relish when it’s dished up by the right person. Uncle Glen is the archetypal teasing uncle, and he has no trouble locating the child within. Eschewing a plot as such, the story is primarily about his relationship with his niece, which is captured through various glimpses of what the two get up to when left alone. Most of their behaviour is, at best, mildly subversive, which kids will no doubt enjoy. The illustrations have a striking use of colour. Each spread is limited to a few hues, with one colour providing a bold backdrop to the equally bold action (drinking milk straight from the bottle, swimming in clothes, licking the plate clean, etc.). The effect is clean and fun and emphasises the interaction between adult and child, who share the book’s limelight. The only weak point is the ending, which is strangely random and at odds with the rest of the text. 4–7 years.

Godwit’s Journey by Sandra Morris (Reed, $14.99)
Sandra Morris’s book blends elements of fiction and non-fiction to tell the story of the godwits’ annual migration between New Zealand and the Alaskan tundra. Her approach is effective: the main body of text reflects an appreciation for the cadences of prose, while the factual asides deliver hardcore detail about the species. The watercolour illustrations have muted tones, yet are child friendly. Morris has done an excellent job of varying the perspective and composition of each picture, heightening the visual appeal. As is often the case in books about wildlife, there’s a smattering of unnecessary anthropomorphism. Otherwise, the tone remains dignified. 4–7 years.

Taming the Sun: Four Mäori Myths by Gavin Bishop (Random House, $29.95)
Bishop retells the stories of Maui and the sun; Kahu and the taniwha; Maui and the big fish; and Rona and the moon in this small collection of some better-known myths. He has written in a more colloquial style, the dialogue in particular reflecting the everyday. The content of each story is to the point. Bishop resists the temptation to set the scene, preferring instead to plunge straight into the action. His artwork employs the same lean approach, dispensing with the detail, illustrating only the essential. This locates the myths more firmly in a separate world and emphasises their dream-like quality – an effect that’s heightened by the tight visual focus. Each scene is close-up and immediate, the action practically forced upon the reader. Vivid, energetic, and appealing. 6 years plus.

Willie Wants to Wee-wee! by Murray Ball (Scholastic, $15.99)
From the first page, the main character’s pressing preoccupation is immediate, though the title, too, is anything but coy. The cheesiness did cause initial misgivings about the content, but the book’s wit and simplicity wins over. The premise is mildly ridiculous – a kid hunts for a place to pee in the night, eventually having the brainwave of using the toilet – but the text is very funny. The language is pared back and to the point, Ball trusting instead in the drive of the narrative. This less-is-best approach has also contributed to the success of the rhyme scheme. Having fewer words to wrestle into place has allowed the sentences to retain their natural shape. In many ways, the illustrations – which are even better than the text – take central stage. They have a distinctly seedy look about them, toning down the cute quotient and giving the story a nice edge. 3 years plus.

After Dark: Creatures of the New Zealand Forest by Julia Crouth (Scholastic, $15.99)
In contrast to Murray Ball’s restrained prose, Julia Crouth’s writing suffers from adjective addiction. The rhyme scheme doesn’t help this problem, and it isn’t one of the book’s strengths. The text is offered in the form of clues, describing an animal that isn’t revealed until the following page (in the form of a full-paged illustration). While this approach gains children’s attention, it does isolate the artwork from its associated prose, which makes the descriptions less easy to engage with. Details have to be remembered – and imagined – possibly a big ask for younger readers. Still, the text is informative about our indigenous nocturnal creatures (including the kiwi, morepork, and kauri snail), and the artwork can always be returned to. 5–8 years.

Clubs: A Lolly Leopold story by Kate De Goldi; illustrated by Jacqui Colley (Trapeze, $19.95)
Kate De Goldi has been engaged with children’s literature for many years. Her knowledge of what works and why in the genre is impressive, and this, her first picture book, bears the hallmarks of that experience. Not that picture book in the traditional sense is a wholly adequate term given this book’s look and content. The story is narrated by the spirited, good-humoured Lolly, who perfectly represents that somewhere-in-between age, when peers are beginning to assert identity and seek belonging. And when you’re 11 or so, what better way of doing this than by joining a club? In Lolly’s case, not joining one is equally expressive, and this frees her up to report on his classmates’ preoccupations (ranging from Barbies and kittens through to Lego and Harry Potter). Lolly’s tone is both mildly scornful and curious, capturing the combination of knowingness and innocence that often informs the older child’s world view. The book is a wholly collaborative effort between author and illustrator, and their work is equally strong. Colley’s illustrations are presented as a series of related collages. They’re inspired by pre-teen tastes and paraphernalia – reminiscent of scrapbook contents and the debris on bedroom floors – and, like the text, they have a zany, irreverent quality. While the book pokes fun at the way people operate, it’s not all cynicism. Lolly unwittingly begins a club of her own: De Goldi and Colley, in the end, celebrating the fact that those who view the world from another perspective can still find company. More to follow. 8–12 years.

Looking for Lori by Errol McLeary (Scholastic, $15.99)
A young girl wakes to find the birdcage empty and embarks on a prolonged hunt. In each room, the scenario is the same: Scarlet searches; Lori screeches and reveals his hiding place; Lori hops over various items, wags his tail, and escapes. For the very young, this predictability will hold some of the book’s appeal. So will the sense of participating in the hunt, encouraged by the refrain Where’s Lori? A solid story, well presented. 3–5 years.

Non-Fiction

The Anzacs at Gallipoli by Chris Pugsley and John Lockyer (Reed, $14.99)
This book is a mixed bag – it’s a shame it isn’t a more solid offering. The facts in themselves make a compelling narrative, but the story of the Anzac troops hasn’t been allowed to shine. From the very beginning the text isn’t as engaging as it ought to be, reading more like the commentary from a tired documentary. It’s too heavy on detailed facts; too light on piquing interest. The second sentence, for example: These were the 30,000 soldiers who sailed for war in October 1914 when 8417 New Zealanders on their ten transport ships joined with the 20,000 Australians at Albany in Western Australia and sailed for Egypt. Not a great start – and there’s no map. (This isn’t provided until the inside back cover, and even then, clarity has been seriously compromised by unnecessary detail.) The book’s design is also shoddy, the text marred by some bad line breaks. In its favour are the photographs and numerous quotes from soldiers, which help bring the story alive. The book has been reprinted once. Perhaps next time, the publishers should consider a re-edition to better meet the needs of younger readers. 11 years plus.

Crimpy’s Fishing for Kids by Daryl Crimp (HarperCollins, $16.99)
Crimpy’s book, with the subtitle Everything you need to know about fishing, delivers on its promise. And with “great” used three times in as many sentences, readers can be assured that they’re at the mercy of an enthusiast. Crimpy’s gone out of his way to win his target audience over: “dude”, “wicked”, and “check-it-out” being text staples. Unfortunately, the book is marred by a general confusion. Chapter headings are lost amid the chaos, and the nuts-and-bolts of the content receives the same treatment as the numerous, frankly lame, puzzles. (On page six, Bubble Trouble, a word game, takes up the same amount of space as the half page on safety issues.) The puzzles’ simplicity is also out of kilter with the level of the text. A more useful book could have been created had the content been more streamlined. Finally, the “chapter” on conservation is ridiculously scant. One paragraph of text makes way for the inevitable puzzle and there’s not even a mention of which over-fished species to avoid. 9–12 years.

Welcome to the South Seas: Contemporary New Zealand Art for Young People by Gregory O’Brien (Auckland University Press, $34.99)
In this unique and thoughtful book, O’Brien introduces children to works of art created in New Zealand over the last 30 years. Over 40 well-known pieces are discussed, representing a variety of media (prints, photographs, paintings, sculpture, and installations). Each piece is accompanied by commentary from O’Brien, who has worked hard to find an angle that will appeal to children. He discusses the various techniques used, then guides the reader toward an understanding of what the artist may have been intending. Links are also made back to art in general and the ways in which artists think about and respond to the world. At the end of the book, O’Brien makes 12 suggestions to encourage children to return to the works so they can explore them more independently. An excellent resource, beautifully produced and presented. 10/11 years and beyond.

Other recently published books

The Tree by Bob Darroch (Reed, $14.99)
A tree grows from seedling to mighty giant, all the time watching over the land below. In turn, it is changed by Mäori, whalers, gold miners, settlers, and developers. A sensitive idea for a story, oddly matched with jaunty, cartoon-like illustrations. 4–6 years.

Mitre 10 DIY for Kids by Les Kenny and Roseanne Kenny (HarperCollins, $16.95)
The first in a two-part series, this book provides step-by-step instructions (with diagrams and photographs) for building five simple items: a level, tepee, Billy cart, stilts, and seesaw. Also contains information about tools and timber, as well as a glossary. 9–12 years.

To Our Shores: A collection of favourite stories retold by immigrants to New Zealand compiled by Angie Belcher; illustrated by Samer Hatam (Reed, $14.99)
This collection contains the brief personal stories and favourite folk tales of families from 13 different countries. There’s also a map and information about each nation. The content is interesting but too ambitious. A simpler approach, which avoided cramming in so much, would have resulted in a more effective book. The tiny, unattractive font is a more serious impediment. Still, a useful classroom resource, probably best enjoyed by students when the myths are read aloud. 9–12 years.

Roger the Rally Car by Dick Oliver (Reed, $14.99)
Turning a rally car into a cute personality, loved by mechanics and drivers alike, is an unusual premise for a book. Thankfully, the author doesn’t take it too seriously, and some humour is evident – although probably not enough. The illustrations, which are reasonably accomplished, have a retro look, bringing into question exactly for who the book is intended. This issue is further complicated by the naïve text. At a guess, 6–10 years.

Greedy Cat and the School Pet Show by Joy Cowley; illustrated by Robyn Belton (Scholastic, $15.99)
Between them, Cowley and Belton construct a quaint, storybook fantasyland in this picture book for the young and innocent. There’s a kettle on the range, children wear galoshes, and everyone looks reassuringly similar. The heavy use of onomatopoeia reinforces the book’s read-aloud suitability, and it’s well designed with a clean layout and nice sense of space. 2–4 years.

Puhi-huia and Ponga by Peter Gossage (Reed, $14.99)
Gossage retells the traditional story of two lovers whose union causes inter-tribal conflict. The women lead the charge with their meres and spears to bring their errant daughter home. Gossage’s illustrations are simple and bold, which isn’t entirely a strength. They have a one-dimensional quality, and everyone looks the same. Strangely, those depicting night time scenes are much stronger. 6–9 years.

Tuarangi (Astronomy) and Tinana Tangata (Human Body) (Penguin New Zealand, both $19.95)
Both titles are Mäori language editions of reference books in the Eyes Wide Open (Karu Miharo) series, originally published in the UK with funding from the Ministry of Education. The books are well put together, although not always easy to read, especially Tuarangi, which has numerous dark backgrounds. Children look very British, and there’s no specific coverage of the Mäori world view – a shame, given the rich material relating to astronomy in particular. Intended for children who have a good grounding in te reo Mäori. Translated into Mäori by Doreen McCorkindale. 10–12 years.

Poraka (Frog) (Penguin New Zealand, $14.95)
An information non-fiction book about frogs, originally published as part of the British Watch Me Grow (Mataki i ahau e tipu ana) series. Intended for children with good te reo skills. Translated into Mäori by Doreen McCorkindale. 8–10 years.

Ka haere a Clara raua ko Buster ki te Kanikanimarama (Clara and Buster Go To the Moondance) by Dyan Sheldon; illustrated by Caroline Anstey (Penguin New Zealand, $14.95)
With simple, humorous text, this cute picture book tells the story of a cat and dog preparing for a moondance. Written for the UK market, translated into Mäori by Doreen McCorkindale. 3 years plus.

Dragonspell by John Parker; illustrated by Errol McLeary (Scholastic, $13.99)
A classic scenario, with a twist at the end, about a young, bookish prince who defies his parents’ wishes, sets out to slay the local dragon, and wins the princess as reward. Very well written, with nice sentence making. Useful for newly independent readers. Contains some black-and-white illustrations. 7–9 years.

Earthquake! The Diary of Katie Bourke, Napier, 1930–31 by Janine McVeagh (Scholastic, $16.99)
It’s been such a boring week. Except for going to Norman’s to work on Tuesday and Thursday, NOTHING has happened. Lucia had a cold so she didn’t come to school. I got kept in at lunchtime twice so I didn’t even have time to plan anything with Roseanne. I can’t help talking if the lesson is so boring can I? And I didn’t think that Maureen would make such a fuss over such a tiny spider … etc. for 125 pages, until the earthquake hits. Another 30 describe the aftermath. 10–12 years.