Chances are if you remember a book from your childhood, it's really the characters you recall. Pippi, Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, and Charlotte remain strong in our memories and make their novels timeless.
A boy who smiles when he's pelted with food. Two ancient aunts who tell improper stories. A homeless boy who finds family in the Warsaw Ghetto. A Civil War heroine hiding her identity. Here are four unique and unforgettable characters from recently published young adult novels.
Jinsen is the hero of Kathe Koja's Budda Boy (FSG, $16.00; ages 11 and up) . He wears a "sloppy old T-shirt as big as a sail", begs for food at lunch, and smiles broadly and constantly even when he's being pelted with lunch leftovers.
Justin, the narrator, wants to fit in and resents being hooked up with Jinsen for a project. Soon Justin's curiosity sparks a relationship that turns to caring. How can Jinsen live in a trailer with an elderly great-aunt, but own a tackle box filled with "really choice art supplies"? How can Jinsen stand emotionless when his art is destroyed and he is viciously beaten? As Justin's caring grows, so does his discomfort with bullying and his own reticent to stand up and speak out. It's not until the book's end that Justin finally learns how Jinsen's past bullying was linked to his transformation.
Koja's writing is filled constant dashes and paragraphs which begin mid sentence, as if to represent questions that tug at Justin's mind, or the way Jinsen's philosophy breaks into Justin's deadened sensibilities. These become almost a graphic element that measures how Jinsen's strength of character overcomes Justin's comfortable apathy.
Polly Horvath has developed a reputation for unusual characters. There's another wild, wacky cast in her 2003 National Book award-winning, The Canning Season (FSG,$16.00; ages 11-14) . The main character is thirteen-year-old Ratchet Clark, whose mother, Henrietta, is an irresponsible woman who cares only about getting into the Hunt Club and hiding "That Thing" that grows on Ratchet's shoulder blade. At the story's start, Henrietta tells Ratchet she's being sent to her ninety-one-year-old twin aunts who live on a remote ancestral Maine blueberry farm. Henrietta describes them as "casket-ready by now. Penpen was kind of fat and happy-happy all the time, and Tilly looked like a sphincter."
These elderly twins live up to Horvath's talents for inventing intriguing characters and the author lets them speak for themselves in a way that may make readers uncomfortable. Early on, they describe how a governess once described them as "little fucks." The aunts are used to offending and shocking those around them, but Rachet is drawn into their stories as they describe how their mother chopped off her own head to escape the boredom of the remote Maine woods, and Peppen's brief marriage to a man who was "a series of hairy moles like some kind of giant connect-the-dot game in the flesh" ?
The two ancients plan to die together and are filled with a morbidity that is fascinating. But Ratchet brings them new life as does Harper, a saucy young teen deserted on their doorstep. The girls' lives becomes rich with ripening blueberries, family stories, and the eccentricity of their elders. The plot is not extraordinary, the writing is a witty blend of dark and light, but quirky characters who make this book memorable.
Newbery-winning author Jerry Spinelli's Milkweed (Knopf, $15.95; ages 11 and up) is different than any other books. Its success is achieved primarily through the main character whom Spinelli has described as "a little kid with a big heart...who finds himself trapped in a walled-in nightmare."
At the beginning of the book, this young boy has no background, no name, and only one memory. "I am running. That's the first thing I remember. Running....Someone is chasing me. "Stop! Thief!" The boy refers to himself as "Stopthief" when he meets a bunch of homeless boys on the streets of pre-Nazi Warsaw. Uri, the leader of the group, gives him the name Misha Pilsudski and an invented background.
When Misha describes the arrival of the Nazis, we begin to see how this character with no real history, sees in a way that is strange, dispassionate, and chillingly beautiful. "They were magnificent. There were men attached to them, but it was as if the boots were wearing the men... A thousand of them swinging up as one, falling like the footstep of a single, thousand-footed giant."
Spinelli's brilliant perspective continues as Misha, searches for a home and follows a wealthy beautiful young Jew, Janina Milgrom, into the Warsaw Ghetto. Now Misha is part of a parade "...different from the grand parade of the Jackboots! The thump of a thousand Jackboots was now the shuffle of ragged shoes; instead of the roar of tanks, the crickety click of cart wheels." Twice more Misha describes parades as Janus Korczak's orphans are led out of the ghetto singing and an endless parade seen in the yellow light of trains bound for the extermination camps. There is a beauty and a sensory strength that forms a contrast with the stark ugliness we know Misha faces. Spinelli's genius is that he stays firmly rooted in his viewpoint character who is uncomprehending, innocent and impersonally recounts the horrors he sees.
Richard Peck won a 2000 Newbery for A Year Down Yonder and a 1998 Newbery honor for the prequel, A Long Way from Chicago (both $5.99 from Puffin). Both books are steeped in history and strong characters. So is his newest, The River Between Us (Dial, $16.99; ages 11 and up).
The main character is fifteen-year-old Tilly Pruitt who lives in Grand Tower, a muddy little Mississippi River town. Tilly worries about what the impending Civil War may do to her already threatened family. The situation is gripping, but it's Tilly's voice that captures readers with a the mix of humor and homespun that shone in Peck's other books.
Soon a second character enters who sets mystery into motion. On a "velvet night" a ship arrives from New Orleans and two figures come down the plank, back lit by the boat's lanterns. One, Delphine Duval, is a beauty, encased in taffeta and satins. The other is dressed plainly and it is quickly assumed she is Delphine's maidservant. The two take up residence at Tilly's home and the family is immediately struck with Delphine's fine manners, elegant possessions, and generosity. Delphine is shrouded in mystery of the exotic New Orleans life she describes and "her conversation was a lacework fan that opened and closed, concealing and revealing."
The strength of the two characters and the relationship they establish transcends the horrors of war and the prejudices of gender and race, and highlight lesser known historical facts and make them real.
In 2000 Kate DiCamillo got the Newbery Honor award for Becoming Winn-Dixie (Candlewick, $5.99; ages 9-12), the story of a lonely young girl who finds sense of community because of a dog who discovers her. This year DiCamillo captured the Newbery itself with the help of an extraordinary character, Despereaux, the winning hero of The Tale of Despereaux: Being the Story of a Mouse, a Princess, Some Soup and a Spool of Thread (Candlewick, $17.99; ages 8-12) . He's a tiny mouse with a huge heart who loves a princess and would do anything for her. But he's not the only unique character, the book is divided between other remarkable personalities and their engaging stories. There's Roscuro, a dungeon-born rat who seeks light, Miggery Sow, a slow-witted serving girl who only wants to be listened to, and the Princess herself, who still grieves for her mother. Each character's desires, hopes and fears combine in this marvelous questing fantasy. This is a tale made for reading aloud and family enjoyment. If reading aloud is not your forte, there's a wonderful recording by Graeme Malcolm (Listening Library, $25.00, unabridged, 3 cassettes)
Unique characters like these enliven plots, animate settings, determine voice and style, and make novels live forever in our minds and hearts.