KidsBBookin: When God Made You

When God Made You
by Matthew Paul Turner
Illustrated by David Catrow
48 pp. Waterbrook
(Picture book; ages 3-8)
978-1-60142-918-6
Penguin Random House

You, you...God thinks about you. If these aren't words of affirmation enough for an adult, imagine what they can do for a child. Explore the world of artistry and faith as Matthew Paul Turner and David Catrow take you on a journey through a little girl's bike ride to learning how important she is in God's eyes.

This book of rhyme is an amazing example of lyrical artistry and illustration. A nameless little African American girl examines her beauty with the backdrop of a poetic declaration of her uniqueness as God's one of a kind creation. Energetic with with vibrant watercolors that run like syrup sweet and rich, this exuberant little girl rides her bike with her happy dog out into the streets and creates life as she paints nature. She even inspires a young artist who goes on a celestial trip with her as her street art bird comes to life and takes flight. The nameless little girl lands at home reading a book to her younger sibling, passing along what she's learned about the beauty of being God's creation.

This picture book is truly a celebration of the spirit of childlike faith and fascination and a call to nurture creativity in our young ones.

Come back next month for another review of the latest children's fiction!

Review: Petals Falling on Complicated Ground

Petals in the Wind

Virginia Andrews

HarperCollins

2012 Edition

978-000-792785-2

The memory of it would not allow them to lead ordinary lives.

These words blaze on the back of my copy of Petals on the Wind. Okay, well, maybe they don’t actually blaze (the lettering is in stark white), but the theme of how memory scars us is poignant in this sequel to Flowers in the Attic. The three remaining Dollanganger children remain and grow into adulthood, but how will they survive it?

Cathy Dollanganger continues to narrate the saga of family secrets and the power of memory. She, Christopher, and Carrie have escaped Foxworth Hall and have found solace with Paul Sheffield, a lonely doctor, and his African American maid Henny. Christopher is determined to become a doctor, Carrie is still physically stunted from malnutrition, and Cathy studies to become a ballerina while remaining hellbent on destroying their mother Corrine. But between juggling her lingering feelings for her brother, continuing to mother Carrie, developing her sexuality with Paul and her dance partner Julian, Cathy is still haunted by memories of the attic and all that was lost, including her younger brother Cory. Carrying around the weight of the past takes a toll on Cathy is she becomes the proverbial villain in her own story, seducing her mother’s husband in order to destroy her.

While this narrative whimsically swirled and definitely offered this saga’s trademark drama, the writing was oftentimes redundant and a bit inaccessible. The melodrama was overblown and sometimes hindered the quieter moments within the story, like when Cathy decides to harness the power of her sexuality based on her mother’s past behavior. It was a quite intimate moment, one line really, that spoke volumes about Cathy’s evolving personal and sexual identity. (Please see the previous rumination!) Also, the “love square” between Cathy, Christopher, Paul, and Julian was overdraw and tiresome, leaving me to wonder if having a relationship with Cathy is worth really worth the pursuit. Then then there’s the casting of the lone African American character in a stereotypical role. By today’s polarization of racial politics, this doesn’t help the narrative either. Henrietta “Henny” Beech literally has no voice (she is mute) and is the traditional mammy figure, a character who was lovingly flat with no dimension. Given the book was originally published in the 1980s and set in the mid-1960s to mid-1970s, this characterization is not surprising, but it’s still no less annoying (especially as her space in the book was so minor I wasn’t even sure I could mention her in the review!)

Petals on the Wind continues with the over-the-top family drama. It is the trainwreck you can’t stop watching. Traditional lore is that this series is based on true events. True or not, the writing is simultaneously overshot and stunted, not really evolving from the first book. If you to wash in the over bloated shock of reality TV emotional hijinx, keep reading. If you’re looking to be inspired by the Aristotelian unities of drama, mmm...maybe you can miss this one.

Join me August 4th for my ruminations on the next book in the Dollanganger series, If There Be Thorns.  We’ll see what this third installment will offer. MWAHHH! (God, that sounds ominous...)

Ruminations: Petals Falling on Complicated Ground

“I was like Momma, sweet and cool and able to handle men--at least, I was learning.”

Sexuality. What do you think when you hear or read the word? What do you think determines it? Our experiences? An intrinsic spiritual and physical element? I thought about all this while delving into Petals on the Wind, the sequel to Flowers in the Attic. As eldest siblings Cathy and Christopher grow into young adulthood, they also grow into adult sexuality. Cathy’s journey in particular is an interesting case as she not only continues as narrator but is discovering her sexual self. What kind of sexual being will she be?

Still reeling from family tragedy, secrets, and her intense love for her brother, Cathy tries to navigate what it means to be a woman and a sexual being. Her journey  reminds me of Jane Villanueva in the CW hit Jane the Virgin. If you’ve ever watched the show, you know that Jane is saving sex for marriage while still maintain sex positivity. Her journey to that decision started with a lecture her Abuela gave her as Jane approached her teenage years. Abuela’s admonition to maintain “purity” until marriage was marked by a metaphorical tampering with a woman’s sexuality before marriage: the crumpling of a white flower. Jane’s virginity is not just a physical state or decision;  it’s a performance of her commitment to sexual purity. Even through all that, Jane still finds a way to cope with and manage her physical desires, sometimes going off the rails. (Spoiler alert: she does eventually get married!) Of course we know the human experience (sexual or not) is far more complicated than a lecture about a bruised flower…. Or do we? This raises questions of how complex human sexuality is and also the nature of performance particularly in female sexuality. In Petals, Cathy goes from lovesick puppy, to temptress, to uninterested prey with the three men in her life, all the while juggling what kind of sexual woman she wants to be. With that in mind, it seems the author frames Cathy’s sexuality as something transitory and constantly evolving in relationship to her male counterparts. Her sexuality is responsive, a reaction to the prospective suitor’s personality. So is her sexual nature a product of her genetic and physiological make up or is it in response to those she desires? Is this true for all of us? I’m definitely not a sex educator, but taking a look at our own journeys to our sexualities is an exercise worth doing.

Come back for the review of Petals in the Wind on July 28. Let me know what  you think!