My reviewing hope for 2001 is to see young adult novels become more character-driven. Of late, I discovered two new books that I admired because both are are guided by their heroines, not issues.
If I had to pick the book that most deserves the Newbery this year, it would be Because of Winn-Dixie, (Candlewick Press,15.99; ages 8 and up), a remarkable first novel by author, Kate DiCamillo. Even the design of the book is inviting. The print is large, the margins wide, and the size unusual. All these predict a uniqueness that the novel lives up to.
This is the story of ten-year-old India Opal Buloni who moves with her preacher father to Naomi, Florida. She wanders lonely in unfamiliar streets until her father sends her to the Winn-Dixie grocery store for a package of macaroni and cheese and she returns with a dog whom she names for their meeting place. "He was a big dog. And ugly. And he looked like he was having a really good time. His tongue was hanging out and he was wagging his tail. He skidded to a stop and smiled right at me. I had never before in my life seen a dog smile, but that is what he did."
DiCamillo's style is simple and fresh. Sentences are short and these represent her viewpoint character well and create an easy to read novel with a strong voice and a spare beauty. DiCamillo's artistic gift for structure parallels this style. She works at several levels at the same time and does so with apparent ease. On a strict plot level, Winn Dixie's appearance causes Opal to meet some of the eccentric occupants of her new town. Librarian, Miss Franny Block renews her storytelling self as Winn-Dixie snuffles at her feet and Opal prods her with questions. Gloria Dump, seen by local children as a witch, reveals herself as an extraordinary gardener and someone who listens "with all her heart".
DiCamillo knits together all these friendships into a whole much bigger than its parts and the miracle is we don't see it happening. Gradually, Opal opens up communication with her father, understands ways to deal with her mother's desertion, gets beyond appearances to see her connection with an apparent bully, makes some kind of healing in each person she meets and even builds a sense of community. All these are teased into an exquisite fabric united by a dog who can smile and the kind of understatement only achieved by total immersion in character. Opal is a likable and selfless character who finds her own sense of self thorough caring about everyone she meets. And there's an extra added plus. This is the story of the love between a child and a dog where the dog doesn't die.
Joan Bauer's Hope Was Here (Putnam, $16.99; ages 11 and up) is a triumph of wit, word, structure, and character. Her heroine is Hope, a sixteen-year-old who has been deserted by her waitress mother at birth, doesn't know who her father is, and has been moved around the country by her aunt Addie, an obsessive chef who is wise in more than matters of food. Hope is no whiner and becomes successful at waitressing and making friends. And Bauer creates a keen and thoughtful observer . Hope's narration simmers with humorous restaurant talk. She sees a morning go down "like cold rolls with a hot meal" and food imagery even creeps into "an excellent kiss- the kind where you feel your stomach burn hot and you know it's not from indigestion." And at the bittersweet ending, "joy and sadness mix together like cream in coffee."
There's another side of Hope that's more serious. She's kept a notebook her entire life, filling it with mementos she one day hopes to share with her father. And every time she leaves a place, she scribbles "HOPE WAS HERE" on something permanent. At the book's beginning, Hope and Addie are moving a small town in Wisconsin to manage G.T. Stoop's diner while he deals with his leukemia. Hope's still smarting over the way their last cooking colleague stole their money, trust, and business, but moving has become part of her way of life and she knows that she's always found friends.
The new cast of characters she meets are amazing. It's not just the daily traffic of the restaurant, though the cameos are as rich one of Addie's good gravies. Nor is it the staff who brings Hope's life and the book the depth of a bottomless cup of coffee. The story's most powerful character may be G.T. Stoop, who balances Hope's lights and darks like a well-planned meal. He is unlike any man Hope has ever met and before long, she's immersed in helping him win a election against a dishonest politician. Stoop's understanding of the transitory nature of life forges a bond with Hope. Commemorating is as important to G.T as it is to Hope. He plants trees to remember those he loves. "I like thinking they'll be here long after I'm gone. All those fine memories pushing up to the sky."
By the book's end, Addie's married G.T., he's won the election, adopted Hope and she shows him the scrapbooks she's assembled throughout her life. When G.T. opts for hearing the long version of her story and listens attentively, Hope tells him "you're as real and true a father as a human being will get in this world." Ironically, though Hope loses G.T. in the book's final chapter, her future seems more certain and meaningful than ever before.