LULLABY FOR THE KING by Nikki Grimes: A Picture Book Review and ARC Giveaway

The calendar tells me it's October, but before you know it, December will be here and it'll be time for the holidays. I'm getting ahead of the game with today's book review. Many of you are familiar with the multi-talented award-winning children's author Nikki Grimes. I've featured her books in verse for middle-grade students and young adults many times: Ordinary Hazards, Garvey's Choice, and Between the Lines to name three of them.

LULLABY FOR THE KING  (Beaming Books: 2023) is textually and visually very different from the previous books I've read by Nikki. It's certainly not her first picture book though! Click on this link and you'll see the great variety of books that Nikki has published.  

REVIEW

Each stanza of this fanciful depiction of the animals who come to honor the birth of Jesus Christ is accompanied by vibrant illustrations by Michelle Carlos.

The lyrical story opens with a beautiful sunrise celebration:

One magnificent morning in Israel,

when the sun warmed the Great Salt Sea,

word spread to every living creature:

The Holy One has, at last, been born.

A season of celebration can begin!

On the next few pages, we follow a "caravan of creatures" wending their way to Bethlehem--each with their own unique gift for the newborn King.

In an allusion to the wise men bringing gifts, an Antelope has an alabaster flask filled with myrrh, a Hawk has an incense stand of purest gold, and a Jackal carries frankincense along with a linen sash. But the similarity to the Biblical gifts ends there. Fanciful creatures--not people--fill these pages: a camel draped in crimson carting a cedar chest, a Hippo "lumbered heavily" carrying jugs of oil strapped to his girth, and a Stork "carefully cradled a bundle of wildflowers, scenting the air as she flew." Notice all of the wonderful alliterations!

As they turn pages together, both young and old readers will enjoy the variety of animals and the gifts they bring. Imagine in your mind the pictures that these words convey:

Sparrow--as always, silent and shy--

skimmed the wind, a silk sash round her wee throat,

holding grains of mustard and saffron--

all a small bird could hope to tote.

 

Tortoise, awhile, the Royal Prince of Slow,

trudged up from Tiberias

with a tambourine in tow.

At last, after traveling through the wilderness for "hours that spun into days" the colorful caravan arrives in Bethlehem. 

The first gift presented was Nightingale's hum,

which swelled into a glorious, sky-piercing chord

that reverberated through the stable

and startled the sleeping Lord.

As the animals bow before the Babe, the angels join them with a new lullaby:

Rest, sweet child from on high,

apple of your Father's eye.

We humbly honor you, O King.

Please bless each gift we bring you.

The brilliant watercolor illustrations will invite readers to explore every page. But remember: Nikki Grimes' words came first. She carefully constructed each image-filled phrase. 

GIVEAWAY

If you're interested in winning my ARC (Advanced Reader Copy) please leave me a comment by October 11. If you sign up to follow my blog or share this on social media, I'll put your name in twice. Make sure you leave your email address if you are new to my blog or send me an email. U.S. address only. 

Congratulations to Greg Pattridge who won Brook White's book, Cookie Cat and the Tagalongs. Greg plans to share the book with his students.

GARVEY'S CHOICE: A Middle-Grade Verse Novel and a Giveaway

Long-time readers of my blog may remember that I am one of Nikki Grimes' many fans. In the past, I reviewed Ordinary Hazards, Between the Lines, and Words with Wings.  Nikki's poetry sings and she captures the conflicts and emotions of adolescents beautifully.

Garvey's Choice (WordSong, 2016) is no different. Except...it is different. Each of the 100+ poems which tell Garvey's story is written in tanka. WOW. At the back of the book Nikki mentions that she challenged herself to write a novel using this Japanese form of poetry. All I can say is that the result is lyrical, impressive, and AMAZING. 

Review

As I often do when I review a verse novel, I'm going to share a few of my favorite poems. It was hard to narrow my selections down. 

From page one, readers learn that part of Garvey's story is his problems with his dad. The sparse yet evocative language also hints at how he handles his pain.

 

It Figures

                    When I was seven

                    and crazy for Mr. Spock,

                    a Star Trek lunch box

                    was all I craved. Instead, Dad

bought one blaring the logo.

of some football team

I'd never even heard of

I shoved that thing in

the coal black of my closet,

then celebrated with cake. (p.1)

Garvey's best friend is Joe with whom he shares a love for astronomy, chess, and knock-knock jokes.  

One time after being dissed again by his father for not wanting to play basketball, Joe calls.

Phone Call

All evening long I 

try tucking in my sadness,

but it keeps getting

snagged on my voice when I speak.

Joe catches it when he calls.

"Hey! What's up? Joe asks.

Should I tell him? "Nothing you 

haven't heard before.

I wish my dad could see me.

That sounds crazy, huh?"

"Not really," says Joe.

"I get it. Seriously.

But you've got a dad.

Mine skipped out long time ago."

Why'd I open my big mouth?

Joe shrugs off his hurt.

"Knock, knock!" he says. "Not now, Joe."

"Come on, man! Knock, knock."

I give in. "Who's there?" "Your friend,

Joe, who's always here for you." (p. 19)

At school, Garvey is teased for being overweight. Nikki tucks small references to Garvey finding refuge in music. Listening to his music and his dad's music, and humming (to drown out teasing) are all part of how Garvey copes. 

Along the way, Garvey learns some things about his father's love for music and how his father used football to bring the two of them together. The musical insights and details about his father slip in and foreshadow the climax. 

Morning Classes 

Blue notes, sad as me,

wail their way from a classroom

I've never been in.

"Chorus," says Joe when I ask.

"It's a new club. You should join.

You're always singing,

or at least humming out loud."

"Yeah, but I don't know."

"Look," says Joe, "your voice is choice.

You should let others hear it." (p. 46)

Garvey makes a new friend in chorus. Manny is an albino who wants to be a chef.

Advice

...

"I was wondering 

how you stand kids teasing you."

"I'm honest," he says.

"I've got albinism. Fact.

I look strange. No changing that.

Is there more to me?

Sure. Kids yell 'albino boy.'

I don't turn around.

Choose the name you answer to.

No one can do that but you. (p. 66)

       

Changes begin to happen.

When I Sing

When I sing, my heart

floats full and light, as if I'm

a balloon of song, 

rising with every lyric,

reaching the edges of space. (p. 75)

Spring Thaw

Peeled myself from bed

for the morning rush to school

(Better beat the bell!)

Belted a blue-jean surprise:

loose weight by nearly one size!

Round still, but that's fine.

Feeling good outside and in.

Maybe I'm not thin

But skinny isn't perfect.

The perfect size is happy. (p. 99)

The climax is Nikki Grimes perfect.

The Talk

"Son, I should tell you,

I used to sing in a band,"

Dad says in the voice

he saves for secrets. I smile,

and pretend that I'm surprised.

"Really? When?" I ask.

"Oh, it was a long while back..."

That's how it began--

the longest conversation

I've ever had with my dad. (p. 104) 

 

Giveaway

I will be giving this book away through the upcoming issue of Talking Story on CHANGE. Leave me a comment along with your email address, and I will add your name to the list. If you're an educator or librarian let me know and I'll add your name in twice. U.S. addresses only. 

Congratulations to Danielle Hammelef who won DOWN TO EARTH on last week's blog.

And don't forget to check out Greg Pattridge's wonderful collection of middle-grade book reviews every Monday.

Ordinary Hazards: An Audio Book Review and Giveaway

Congratulations to Barbara Younger for winning CAVE DADA from last week's blog.

Nikki Grimes writes powerful young adult books in verse. You'll find my reviews of Between the Lines and Words with Wings on previous posts. Now I know why she is able to write such authentic poetry. It comes from the depth of her soul and the pain from her past. 

Note: since this is a review of the audiobook, I did my best to capture quotes from the book. 

REVIEW

Nikki narrates the book and begins with this definition:

Memoir: A work of imperfect memory in which you meticulously capture all that you can recall and use informed imagination to fill in what remains. As she says later in the book, Trauma is a memory hog.

Quickly, the reader learns about Nikki's schizophrenic, alcoholic mother; her musician father who feels incapable of raising children; and a childhood full of instability, fears, and abuse. Her only constant was her older sister, Carol, who she adored.

“I have a Ph.D. in avoidance 

We’re all masters of selective memory 

We’re all allergic to pain."

*****

Home was never a safe place.

Forget the guns. 

I was put in a dresser drawer away from the rats.

As a child she realized her mother had a secret life since she talked to invisible people. "Mommy who are you talking to?” was met with,  "Shhh!" and a finger to her lips. 

After her father left, the family temporarily lived with a relative but her sons shot heroin. They moved out, her mother went to work, and the girls were left in the care of a person who locked them in a closet during the day. Nikki was 3, Carol was 8. 

A demon lived inside of us for years in fear of the dark.

When neighbors reported that her mother neglected them, social services took them away. That began a series of foster homes. Some she remembered; she forgot several. One foster mother whipped her and her sister. She and her sister ran away to their grandmother's house; she refused to take them in. 

Did we do something wrong? Is that why no one wants us? 

Anger and I stood together on the train. 

When she was six, she found an oasis of love and peace with the Buchanan's foster family. Although she didn't talk for several days, the family's welcome broke down her distrust. She went to church, started school, and took dance lessons. But she was terrified of the night's darkness. She discovered Psalm 18:28: "You, Lord, keep my lamp burning; my God turns my darkness into light," and realized, 

Grace! Outstrips the dark every time.

Early on, she started pouring out her feelings in notebooks; the blank page was her safety.

The writing thing was some kind of magic. 
But magicians rarely share their secrets.

Although she grew to love the Buchanan family, she yearned for Carol and wrestled with not hearing from her parents.

Why did mom love liquor more than us? 
Why didn’t they love us?

When someone explained that her mother had a nervous breakdown she asks, How can nerves break? She is told that her mother doesn't know what's real and what's not, and Nikki remembered her mother's imaginary friends. 

When she overheard a relative at a picnic say that Mr. and Mrs. B always took in strays, Nikki realized, This beautiful family was only borrowed.

She found a picture of herself in the Buchanan family album when she was nine.  She had settled in and let her guard down. Then her mother called. She was remarried and wanted Nikki to join them. 

“I had to go. How could I say no? One mother is all that you get. I wasn’t ready to give up on her yet."

The city scared her, it was difficult always changing schools mid-term. This time, her mother deliberately kept her father away and spent more time in politics and civil rights than with her. But Nikki moved in any way--what choice did she have? She quickly learned that in Brooklyn you have to join a gang for protection. When she is singed with a cigarette butt, her mother doesn't ask about the bandage. Nikki writes,

Why does she avoid dark and painful things? 
Who taught her to pretend? 

There were gangs on every corner, danger her mother refused to see, and the Brooklyn Library became her refuge. 

My life is like musical chairs. 
Every time the music plays, I have to move. 

When her mother started talking to herself again, she feared that “this stuff” was in her. 

God, please don’t let insanity be my inheritance.

Both her father and stepfather were useless. Nikkie took the situation into her hands; she was a kid who had to get her mother hospitalized. 

Every damn episode wore another hole in my soul.

She entered puberty and was alarmed when boys and her stepfather eyed her funny. She hated the changes in her body. Her sister moved in but didn't stay; Nikki didn't realize why Carol left until after “my mother’s monster” raped her. No amount of showers or notebook entries could take her pain away. In the same way that her mother didn't want to hear the truth about the neighborhood gangs, Nikki knew her mother would be no help against her step-father's abuse.

Her pent up anger terrified her. She learned to vocalize and to translate her feelings into words on the page.

I knew writing could take me places. 
But writing was a lonely place. 

Although her mother discounted her writing talent, at thirteen Nikki performed her first reading with Harlem poets. She was nervous, but her father affirmed her talent. He said, 

Explore every art form. You can be whatever you want.
......

My father fed me books and art by blacks. 
It left me dreaming of what books I might bring into the world.

After going to the Copacabana with her father she thinks, Not all stars in the firmament are white.

Nikki's faith does not break in spite of the many difficulties she faces. At one point she writes,

How can I not believe in God? 
If it weren’t for Him I’d be in prison or the grave.

As I mentioned, Nikki narrates the book herself. The only time her voice wavered was when she read about the car accident in which her father lost his life. He had promised to see her Easter morning and she blamed herself for him driving too late at night to get home in time. She felt powerless in the face of death.

Why did the one parent who knew my heart have to die? 

Here is an audio snippet to give you a flavor of the book.

*****

This is a powerful memoir that I recommend for mature teens as well as for adults. Nikki Grimes has taken the fragments of her life-- "scattered memories"--and pieced them together into an amazing volume of poetry. Teens who have known abuse will find comfort in reading this book and knowing that they are not alone. Teens who have grown up in safety should gain empathy by reading or listening to Ordinary Hazards. 


GIVEAWAY

I have a code that you can use to download this book for one of you. Leave me a comment by 6 PM on June 13th to enter the giveaway; please make sure to leave your email address if you are new to my blog. Share this on social media or start following my blog and I'll enter your name twice. 

Between The Lines: A Review and Audio Book Giveaway

Congratulations to Connie Saunders who won Behind These Hands from last week's blog.

********

Nikki Grimes' sequel to Bronx Masquerade, BETWEEN THE LINES (Penguin Random House, 2018), combines narrative and free verse in a moving book about teens whose lives are changed through poetry. The audio book published by Recorded Books is narrated by different actors; each eloquently expresses a different character. Listen or read this book and you'll reach the same conclusion that I did: Grimes masterfully created authentic voices and personalities for the six different point of view characters. 

REVIEW

For various reasons ranging from a desire to write poetry to attendance only because of a guidance counselor's suggestion--the students in Mr. Ward's poetry class are thrown together. The universal theme of wanting to belong weaves the students and their poems together. This commonality provides the reader a window into the the personal and interpersonal struggles and triumphs they face.

The reader first hears about Darian, a Puerto Rican teen who sees himself as a newspaper man, not a poet. He lost his mother to breast cancer and by the end of the book his poetry gives him a way to express his grief. 

Private Pain

Numb, I sit on the edge

of the bed

Mami y Papi share.

Shared.

I feel light as the ghost

my mother has become.

Her picture 

on the bedside table

looks blurry until

I wipe my eyes.

"Pobrecito," she would say.

If she were here,

if she were anywhere

in this world.

"Mijo," she would whisper

and touch my cheek,

and I would answer,

"Mami."

But this time,

The word never leaves

my throat.

And what difference

does that make?

When I wasn't looking

Mama's heart stopped

like a broken clock.

Half past 36,

the final tick,

the final tock.

Explain to me

exactly how 

I'm supposed to

tell time now. (pp. 130-1)

**********

Li Cheng is "all Chinese and all American." Her poetry is full of "contradictions which squeeze into one small body."

Threads

How can I explain

the duality of Li?

The muffled sounds

of mah-jong tiles touching,

clicking together,

flips a switch in me

as my parents follow

the ritual 

of the ancient game.

The Mandarin calligraphy

clinging to our walls

sends my soul sailing 

to rice paddies

oceans away,

to the land of silk,

red sunrises,

and the jade mountain peaks

my parents

often speak of.

China whispers 

through their blood,

You are part mine.

Remember!

And I nod, silent

and ashamed

that my untrained

American lips

are unfamiliar 

with my ancestors'

local lingo. (pp. 26-7)

************

Jenesis has been placed in thirteen foster homes and is worried about aging out of the system and having nowhere to live. Here is some of her story. 

Blue Eyes Squared

I see you staring at me.

You be boring a hole in my soul

as if the alchemy

of your curiosity

could somehow turn

these blue eyes brown,

but you might as well forget it.

You frown at my blond curls,

even though girls with hair

the color of sun

the color of spun gold

are supposed to have more fun.

At least, that's the story

they try to sell on TV.

Yeah, I'm different, but

don't call me freak

or assume I'm the only one.

There are bound to be

other brown beauties

with pale blue eyes

eerily like mine,

wearing smiles crooked

in exactly the same way,

noses that scream

matched set.

Are there more like me?

Yeah, you bet.

When I find them,

I'll fit in without question,

never mind that

the world thinks

I'm odd as H-E-

well, you get it. (pp. 33-34)

***********

Val feels the pain of the prejudice her father faces as an Argentinian immigrant.

What You Don't Know

Mi padre, Ignacio,

is a book you haven't read.

It's filled with poetry

that can curl its fingers

around your corazón 

and squeeze out joy.

Pero you've never

cracked the cover.

You scribble crítica  

that questions

the measure of the man,

but you've never

 peeled back the pages

of his biografía.   

You toss el libro

onto the trash heap

marked "Immigrant"

y ustedes dicen it has no value.

But, of course,

you are categorically incorrect,

which you would know

if only you could read

las palabras.

If only you, too,

were blessed

to be bilingual. (p. 51)

*******

Marcel has been labeled a troublemaker. His past includes his father's unjust imprisonment and how that demoralized him and shattered their family.

Troubled (partial)

What is it

with people and their labels,

as if the way they mark me

makes them able

to understand who I am

or why?

"Troubled kid"

tells you exactly nothing

about the trouble

my pops has seen 

or Moms

or me.

We stare from windows 

caged in iron,

in state prisons

or rented rooms,

which are only better

by degree.

We are forced

to survive outside

the neatly mowed landscapes

of your imagination.

Our stop on the train station

is worlds away

from your manicured lawns

and lives

and the lies you tell

about the days

of racial discrimination

being in the past.

Quit asking

why I'm angry

or I'll tell you. (pp. 39-40)

*******

Freddie takes care of her eight-year-old niece and her alcoholic mother. This is a portion of one of her poems.

School Rules

Stage right,

the lights fade on a daily life

of tiptoeing around

my niece's feelings about the mom

who traded time with her

for time spent cozying up to crank.

The truth is too rank

for her tender little-girl ears.

And so, until she's fast asleep,

I keep bitter thoughts

under my tongue's lock and key.

Have I mentioned how it hurts me?

That neither my niece nor I

manage to have a mother

worthy of the name?

Oh, mine is present,

in an alcoholic-fog kind of way,

which is to say, hardly at all. (p. 148)

*******

Nikki Grimes stitches a story together so real and touching that after the boys vs. girls poetry slam which produces outstanding poetry on both sides--I want to know what happens to each character. This would be a great curriculum resource for teens: some readers will resonate and identify, others will be informed by stories much different than their own. Read it out loud in reader's theater. Let it inspire you and your student to write poetry. The results may surprise you.  

Giveaway

I am giving away my audio book, courtesy Recorded Books. Leave me a comment with your email address if you are new to my blog. Random.org will pick a winner on August 3.

Words With Wings - Audio Book Giveaway!

Congratulations to Sheri Levy who won an autographed copy of Lisa Kline's book, Eleanor Hill from last week's giveaway.  For those of you who didn't win last week, here's another chance!

**********

I've been a fan of Nikki Grimes' poetry ever since reading Bronx Masquerade; I love how she juxtaposes words and images. This is her second book I've read and once again, I enjoyed it a great deal. In this award-winning novel in verse, Grimes has written a tight story that will speak to readers, writers, and daydreamers of all ages.

Gabby is like her father - a dreamer who sees worlds inside everyday words. When she says a word such as sand, carousel, or roller coaster she immediately flies away from her school work or chores. 

After her parents split up, Gabby misses her father's comfort and empathy. Her mother decides they have to move across town and Gabby misses her neighborhood, best friend, and school:

Missing My Old School, 

My Old Life, My Old Family

Some days
sad is a word
I can't swallow.
It swells inside my throat
until it's stuck.
I hurry home from school
and beat Mom there.
The second she arrives, 
I crawl onto her lap
like when I was little.
She holds me, quiet,
and strokes my hair.
I stay there
til the sadness shrinks and I can breathe again. (p.33)

Daydreams are more than an escape from problems -- it's Gabby's way of thinking, breathing, and living. Here are a few of my favorite poems:

First Day

I duck down into the seat of my new class.

To these kids,

I’m not Gabby yet.

I’m just Shy Girl

Who Lives 
Inside Her Head.

No one even knocks 
on the door for a visit.

They don’t know
it’s beautiful 
in here. (p. 9)

Words with Wings

Some words 
sit still on the page

holding a story steady.

Those words 
never get me into trouble.

But other words have wings 
that wake my daydreams.

They fly in,

silent as sunrise,

tickle my imagination,

and carry my thoughts away.

I can’t help 
but buckle up 
for the ride! (p.11)

Maybe

Dad is a dreamer

And mom is a maker.

I’ve been thinking,

maybe
I can be both. (p.27)

Sled

Say "sled"

And my nose is cold and shiny

As the blades if the red racer I haul

To the top of the hill.

Then it’s down

Down

Down I go

careening through 
a lop-sided snow fort,

Waking the morning 
with laughter

steering straight 
into the sun.  (p.28)

Waterfall

Say "waterfall"

and the dreary winter rain

outside my classroom window

turns to liquid thunder,

pounding into a clear pool

miles below

and I can’t wait

to dive in.  (p. 30)

Gabby loves the places her daydreams take her--but her mother and teachers don't.

Stuck in Dreamland

Maybe something 
is wrong with me.

all this fancy dancing 
in my mind.

Where I see red and purple 
and bursts of blue,

everybody else sees 
black and white.

Am I wrong?

Are they right?

Too bad 
I can’t ask Dad. (p.38)

After hearing too many times that she needs to quit daydreaming, she resolves to stop. 

I quit

I pack my daydreams

kick them to a dark corner.

No more word journeys for me,

seeing what others don’t see. (p. 39)

When her new teacher confiscates one of her written daydreams, Gabby doesn't get into trouble as she expects. Instead, he proposes a solution that gives credence to all students' dreams and validates Gabby's aspirations.   

 ************

Courtesy of Recorded Books, I am giving away this audio CD to one fortunate blog reader. Middle grade students in both the traditional classroom or homeschool will enjoy this book-and so will you!

Leave me a comment by 7PM on August 29th, along with your email address if you are new to this blog. If you want an extra chance to win, share this on your social media of choice and let me know which you do.