VERY FAR AWAY FROM ANYWHERE ELSE by Ursula K. Le Guin (1976)

Harcourt; 133 pages; realistic fiction; ages 12 and up; ISBN: 0-15-205208-9.

In Very Far Away From Anywhere Else, popular sci-fi author Ursula K. Le Guin gives voice to what could be one of her typical readers. Owen, a 17-year-old self-described "bright little jerk," finds that being alone and pursuing his passions of science and imagined worlds good enough—until he met Natalie. In the course of their friendship Owen lives out the inner turmoil of trying to be what others want him to be—or at least what he thinks they want—and what he wants for himself. His self-image illustrates the fragile egotism required in adolescence, and the ambivalence of fear and desire play out in the course of Owen and Natalie's relationship, as she is as much a source of affection as she is one of envy.

Le Guin's brief and searing 1976 novel suffers only slightly in the present day from descriptive clangers: teens are no longer "neat" nor "with it." Yet the anxiety and urgency of Owen seeking to "finally be realistic about myself" resonates clearly. Le Guin describes a series of events that balance verity and tragedy in careful prose that allows adult and teen readers to recognize their own internal scars and bruises.

If you're interested in reading some of Le Guin's science fiction, check out her "Earthsea Cycle."

HARRIET THE SPY by Louise Fitzhugh (1964)

Yearling/Random House; 300 pages; comedy/drama; ages 8-12; ISBN: 978-0-440-41679-1.

Harriet M. Welsch wants to be a writer when she grows up, but she also fancies herself a spy. She writes down observations in a notebook about everyone she sees in her New York City neighborhood, but she also writes about her classmates and friends. The problem is, her "observations" are really judgments, e.g., "If Marion Hawthorne doesn't watch out she's going to grow up into a lady Hitler." When her notebook is discovered one day at recess, all heck breaks loose: her classmates form a Spy Catcher Club to get their revenge on Harriet via spitballs, spilled ink, etc., and she in return plots her own counter-retaliation. Luckily, her former nanny, Ole Golly, has some good advice on how Harriet can reverse her status as a scorned outcast.

When Harriet the Spy was published in 1964, its title character was seen as something entirely new in children's literature: a protagonist who isn't always likable, especially when she's planning revenge on classmates and friends that she's already hurt with her spy observations. ("Laura Peters: her hair," Harriet writes on her revenge list. "Cut it off. Or make a bald spot.") Fitzhugh exposes the anger that often lies just beneath the surface of school-age friendships, paving the way for writers like Judy Blume and her 1974 novel about fifth-grade "mean girls," Blubber.

For further reading, check out Fitzhugh's sequel of sorts, The Long Secret (1965), and Sport (1979), a spin-off about Harriet's titular friend that was published after Fitzhugh's death from a brain aneurysm in 1974 at the age of 46. There's also a 1996 film version of Harriet the Spy, which, like other tween movies aimed at girls, failed to generate much business at the box office.

NEVER LET YOU GO by Justin Bieber (Teen Island Records, 2010)

Directed by Colin Tilley; 4 minutes; pop/R&B; all ages.



In the music video for "Never Let You Go," a track from his 2010 album My World 2.0 (his original world needed a software update, apparently), teen-pop sensation Justin Bieber promises a girl that he will do exactly as the song's title says. But wait! Something's rotten in the state of Denmark! (Or the state of California, anyway, since that's probably where the video was shot.) The girl in question is clearly shown wearing two wristwatches on her left arm, a subtle visual indication that she will eventually two-time our postpubescent-but-still-looks-prepubescent-but-I-guess-that's-why-he's-so-nonthreatening-and-therefore-acceptable-to-moms-everywhere hero.

Say it ain't so! The Beeb keeps reassuring this vixen that he'll never let her go when he's the one who's going to be let go. How tragic. But if he ever needs a shoulder to cry on, I'm sure his doppelganger, actress Leslie Bibb, wouldn't mind lending one. (Bieber ... Bibb ... Bibber? She was born in '73, he was born in '94. The mom math isn't impossible, that's all I'm saying.) But you know what else is tragic? Bieber's song has the same title as New Kids on the Block's final single from 1994, the year he was born and they broke up because their popularity had fallen off the side of a cliff. The fickleness of teen-pop fans can be so cruel.

For further viewing, check out the aforementioned New Kids on the Block music video of the same name, in which tenor Jordan Knight makes it clear that he's no longer nonthreatening.

WHERE THE SIDEWALK ENDS by Shel Silverstein (1974)

Harper and Row; 166 pages; humor; ages 8 and up; ISBN: 06-025667-2.

This collection of dozens of Shel Silverstein poems and drawings has been a hit with children and parents alike for more than three decades, gently exploring the hopes, fears, and general pet peeves of multiple generations with rich, occasionally dark humor. Hate going to the dentist? So does Silverstein, it seems, based on the fate of one such tooth collector in his poem "The Crocodile's Toothache." What about taking out the garbage? Well, "Sarah Cynthia Sylvia Stout Would Not Take the Garbage Out," and her fate wasn't much better, though it certainly wasn't as bad as that of the baby in "Dreadful," who got eaten!

Silverstein's poems almost never fail to provoke at least a grin and will likely provoke much more if read aloud to an appreciative audience. Some of my favorites are "Warning," about the dangers of picking one's nose; "Peanut-Butter Sandwich"; and the self-explanatory "The Dirtiest Man in the World" ("The bedbugs that leap on me sing me to sleep"). My girlfriend and I just bought Where the Sidewalk Ends for my niece on her seventh birthday; I'm hoping she'll love Silverstein's poems just as much as I did when I was in the second grade.

For further reading, check out another collection of Silverstein poems, 1981's A Light in the Attic, or the recent posthumous release Every Thing on It.

THE AVENGERS: EARTH'S MIGHTIEST HEROES! (Disney XD, 2010-present)

The Avengers comic book created by Stan Lee and Jack Kirby; The Avengers TV series developed by Ciro Nieli, Joshua Fine, and Christopher Yost; 26 episodes and counting (30 minutes each); action-adventure; ages 6 and up.

The animated series featuring Marvel Comics' most celebrated "all-star" superhero team begins by showing its individual heroes in action before they joined forces, with entire episodes focusing on Iron Man, Thor, the Hulk, and Ant-Man and Wasp. Later on in season one, Captain America, Hawkeye, and Black Panther join the existing team, which must round up all the supervillains who've escaped from four specially designed prisons during a mysterious breakout. Earth's mightiest heroes must learn on the job how to communicate effectively with each other while also building trust and respecting what each person brings to the team. But most importantly, they must remember to stay out of the Hulk's way when he's angry.

I like how The Avengers takes its time establishing the characters and their personalities. That way the viewer can see certain conflicts coming and therefore will anticipate the fallout between, say, Thor and the Hulk. The action seems fairly standard as far as animated superhero shows go, though both (minor) good guys and bad guys die, which was never the case on Super Friends 30 years ago. Fans of The Avengers are surely looking forward to the big-screen version of the comic book that opens next summer, but the animated series just may give it a run for its money in the storytelling department.

For further viewing, check out Ang Lee's 2003 version of Hulk, an underrated comic-book movie.

TWELVE ROUNDS TO GLORY: THE STORY OF MUHAMMAD ALI by Charles R. Smith Jr. (2007)

Illustrated by Bryan Collier. Candlewick Press; 80 pages; biography; ages 9-14; ISBN: 978-0-7636-1692-2.

Charles R. Smith Jr.'s picture-book biography of the legendary boxer is written as a series of poems, simultaneously emulating and paying tribute to its subject, whose famous pre-fight poems—"Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee / His hands can't hit what his eyes can't see"—influenced the braggadocio of early rap music. Warmly illustrated by Bryan Collier, Twelve Rounds to Glory takes young readers through Ali's entire career, from his heavyweight-championship knockout of Sonny Liston in 1964 to his refusal to fight in the Vietnam War three years later, and continuing on to his popular and professional comeback in '74, when he beat his seven-years-younger opponent, George Foreman, to regain the heavyweight title. The book ends with a brief mention of Parkinson's disease, which Ali was diagnosed with in 1984.

Smith doesn't ignore the often ugly insults Ali slung at his opponents before fights, the worst of them reserved for Joe Frazier: "cutting even deeper / into his heart by dropping a bomb, / by insulting his blackness when you called him Uncle Tom." But for the most part this is a sunny-side-of-the-street biography, in which Ali's four marriages and eight children, two of which were born out of wedlock, are treated as a show of generosity on Ali's part, i.e., he had too much love for just one family! Smith's poetry shines brightest when he recounts Ali's various title bouts, including the 1974 "Rumble in the Jungle" versus Foreman in Zaire: "'IS THAT ALL YOU GOT? / IS THAT ALL YOU GOT?' / absorbing brick after brick, / taking shot after shot, / infuriating the Bull, / making his eyes see blood-red, / moving shots to the body / up top to the head."

Winner of Honor Book recognition from the Coretta Scott King Book Awards in 2008. For more of Smith's poetry, check out the basketball-themed Hoop Kings (2004). And to see a book trailer I created for Twelve Rounds to Glory, keep watching ...

FROM THE MIXED-UP FILES OF MRS. BASIL E. FRANKWEILER by E.L. Konigsburg (1967)

Atheneum Books for Young Readers/Simon & Schuster; 162 pages; mystery; ages 10-14; ISBN: 978-0-689-71181-7.

Claudia Kincaid, age 11, doesn't feel properly appreciated at home, so she runs away. She's not the kind to sleep on the street or in a bus station, though: she decides to take up residence at the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, and because she'd like to have some spending money, she takes along her nine-year-old brother Jamie, who never spends his allowance. Together they learn how to avoid suspicion at the museum by camouflaging themselves in school groups during the day and hiding in the bathrooms at night until everyone's gone home. (They bathe in the fountain.) When Claudia becomes enchanted by a statue of an angel whose creator has remained a mystery for nearly 500 years, she becomes a girl on a mission: she must track down the statue's former owner, Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler, and uncover the angel's secret.

From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler provides wish fulfillment for any young reader who's ever dreamed about spending the night in a museum and getting away with it by outsmarting adults. Konigsburg has a great sense of humor: "If you think of doing something in New York City, you can be certain that at least two thousand other people have that same thought. And of the two thousand who do, about one thousand will be standing in line waiting to do it." Her drawings leave something to be desired, but I liked her inclusion of a map of the Metropolitan.

Winner of the 1968 Newbery Medal. For further reading, check out Konigsburg's other book from '67, Jennifer, Hecate, Macbeth, William McKinley, and Me, Elizabeth, which won a Newbery Honor award the same year From the Mixed-Up Files won the Medal! (She's the only author who can claim that feat.)

THE LAST AIRBENDER (Nickelodeon Movies/Paramount Pictures, 2010)

Written and directed by M. Night Shyamalan; 103 minutes; fantasy/action; MPAA rating: PG ("for fantasy action violence," but appropriate for ages 7 and up, if you ask me).

Based on an animated series that ran on Nickelodeon for three seasons, The Last Airbender takes place in a world in which the Water, Fire, Air, and Earth nations coexist peacefully under the guidance of the Avatar, the only being that can manipulate all four of the elements ("bending" involves some sort of telekinetic control that allows you to throw water, fire, etc. at your enemies). When the Avatar suddenly vanishes, the Fire Nation declares war on the others, eventually wiping out the Air people and putting the Water and Earth nations under its control. But one day a boy is found encased in a bubble of ice in the Water Nation, and he reveals that he is Aang, the last airbender and a reincarnation of the Avatar. A fallen prince and a devious military officer in the Fire Nation then begin devising schemes to exploit Aang's four "bending" powers.

The Avatar TV series had a large following among tweens and teens, which encouraged Nickelodeon to try a big-screen version. The Last Airbender made money, but the reviews were brutal, and long before the movie came out there were protests over writer-director M. Night Shyamalan's casting of white actors in several key roles despite the characters being of Asian descent in the TV series. Shyamalan is Indian-American, making him south Asian in part, but his heritage didn't help quell the controversy. Personally, I found The Last Airbender to be dull, and since the acting was lackluster in general, what would Shyamalan have had to lose if he'd cast Asian actors across the board? The film's ending leaves room for a sequel, which will probably delight young boys who enjoy imitating the characters' numerous martial arts "bending" poses.

For further viewing, check out various DVD collections of the Avatar: The Last Airbender TV series.

CHARLIE AND THE CHOCOLATE FACTORY by Roald Dahl (1964)

Illustrated by Joseph Schindelman. Troll/Bantam; 160 pages; fantasy/comedy; ages 8 and up; ISBN: 0-553-12143-X.

"Concerning the adventures of four nasty children and our hero, with Mr. Willy Wonka and his famous candy plant," reads the cover of the 1979 paperback in my possession, which sums up the cast of characters nicely, though it omits Charlie Bucket's four loving grandparents and his equally loving mother and father, all of whom live with Charlie "in a small wooden house on the edge of a great town." In other words, the Buckets live in poverty. When Charlie wins one of five highly coveted golden tickets that grants him access into Willy Wonka's long-dormant chocolate factory, he and the other four winners—Augustus Gloop, Veruca Salt, Violet Beauregarde, and Mike Teavee—arrive at the factory and begin their tour. Slowly but surely, each one reveals his true nature.

Tweens who've grown up in the age of competition-based reality shows like The Amazing Race and Survivor will likely get a kick out of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and I'd advise that they skip Tim Burton's 2005 film adaptation starring Johnny Depp as a creepy, not charismatic Willy Wonka. The movie was a big hit, but I didn't think it captured any of the magic of the book. (I still haven't seen the 1971 Gene Wilder version, which is shameful, I realize.) Dahl's story works splendidly as fantasy, but because he grounds it in the reality of the Buckets' extreme poverty—and their basic human kindness in the face of such a financial indignity—the climactic payoff is even sweeter.

For further reading, check out Dahl's sequel, Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator (1972).

GREEN LANTERN (Warner Bros. Pictures, 2011)

Directed by Martin Campbell; screenplay by Greg Berlanti, Michael Green, Marc Guggenheim, and Michael Goldenberg; 114 minutes; sci-fi/action-adventure; MPAA rating: PG-13 ("for intense sequences of sci-fi violence and action," but appropriate for ages 8 and up, if you ask me).

The longtime DC Comics superhero makes his big-screen debut in this special-effects extravaganza. Test pilot Hal Jordan knows how to fly a fighter jet better than almost anyone, but he's reckless and cocky, and can't shake the memory of watching his father die in a plane crash when Hal was just a boy. Millions of light years away, Abin Sur, a member of the intergalactic Green Lantern Corps (think of them as the space police), is mortally wounded fighting Parallax, a yellow mass of energy that turns out to be the physical embodiment of fear itself. Abin Sur crash-lands on Earth and gives his green power ring to Jordan, who is then indoctrinated into the Green Lantern Corps on their home planet of Oa and learns how to use his ring to create anything he can see in his mind, including giant machine guns and catapults. Jordan will have to overcome all his fear if he's to prevent Parallax from destroying humankind.

Green Lantern was considered a box office disappointment soon after it opened last June, and the critics weren't too kind, but I thought it was more entertaining than Thor, which came out a month earlier and did healthier business. All the money that went into the special effects budget appears to be on the screen, especially in the scenes set in outer space, and Parallax is a vaguely defined but impressive-looking villain. Reynolds isn't flexing any new muscles here in the acting department or otherwise, and after Robert Downey Jr.'s snarky portrayal of Tony Stark in two Iron Man movies, Reynolds's similar approach demonstrates the law of diminishing returns. (Peter Sarsgaard, as pseudovillain Hector Hammond, seems to be having the most fun out of all the actors.)

For further viewing, check out Batman Begins (2005) and The Dark Knight (2008), two films that demonstrate just how good superhero movies can be.