Kathleen Ernst, Historical Fiction Book Reviews

Picture Books:

A Packet of Seeds, by Deborah Hopkinson, illustrated by Bethanne Andersen (Greenwillow Books, 2004)
When a pioneer family moves west, the mother misses home so much that she will not even name the new baby until her daughter thinks of just the right thing to cheer her up. Westward migration is a common theme in children’s literature, but this picture book poignantly depicts the emotional impact such a move might have. Gender roles are clearly presented; the move was Pa’s dream, not Momma’s. Momma and Pa are initially presented back-to-back, looking in opposite directions, while the image of Momma’s friends saying good-bye shows an almost dance-like embrace. Figurative language reflects the characters’ experience (“Folks around here are getting close as kernels on a cob,” he told Momma.). The child’s actions, which help rouse Momma from post-partum depression, are as simple as the setting demands, yet wise and effective.

On Sand Island, by Jacqueline Briggs Martin, illustrated by David A. Johnson (Houghton Mifflin Company, 2003).
In 1916, on an island in Lake Superior, Carl builds himself a boat by bartering with the other islanders for parts and labor. This quiet, lovely book takes readers back to a time “when Lake Superior was thick with fish and strung with nets, and fisherman found their way on the water by watching the sun.” The author does not shy away from harsh realities of the times; Carl’s mother had died the previous fall, her coffin carried away on the roof of a fishing boat. Most of the text, however, simply creates a picture of this place and community.

Small Beauties: The Journey of Darcy Heart O’Hara, by Elvira Woodruff, illustrated by Adam Rex (Alfred A. Knopf, 2006).
Darcy Heart O’Hara, a young Irish girl who neglects her chores to observe the beauties of nature and everyday life, shares “family memories” with her homesick parents and siblings after the O’Haras are forced to immigrate to America in the 1840s. This book contains a wrenching look at the pain caused by the Irish potato famine and subsequent forced evictions. It also makes clear that even a beloved, special child like Darcy is expected to do her share of the chores. Within her limited circumstances, however, Darcy still finds a way to help her family deal with their losses, and to feel hopeful about the future. Figurative language reinforces the period setting (“For Pobble O’Keefe, in the year 1845, money was a rare as a whortleberry in December.”)

Novels for Children and Teens:

A Northern Light, by Jennifer Connelly, (Harcourt, 2003)
In 1906, sixteen-year-old Mattie Gokey is struggling to decide her future. Torn between marriage and the pursuit of her further education, she sees powerful, sometimes painful, examples of the advantages and disadvantages of either path. This novel presents a vivid picture of life for a smart young woman with too many responsibilities and too few choices. It would be impossible for modern readers to superimpose their own contemporary value judgments on Mattie’s deliberation and ultimate choice. Author Connelly also demonstrates that she knows this world well through the specific sensory details integrated into her prose, which is rich with period color. (“If spring has a taste, it tastes like fiddleheads.” “Jenny Hubbard is only six years old, but the growing season is short in the North Woods, and children, like the corn, have to come up fast if they are to come up at all.” And, “I look at it and the questions I’ve kept penned up all day rush at me thumping and squealing like my pa’s pigs at feeding time.”) I so admired this book that I made it required reading for my Advanced Creative Writing Class at Mount Mary College.

The Ballad of Lucy Whipple, by Karen Cushman (Clarion Books, 1996)
In 1849, Lucy is distraught when her mother moves the family from Massachusetts to a small California mining town, where Lucy helps run a rough boarding house. While trying to find a way back to the east coast, she finds comfort in books. Cushman often lets Lucy reveal her feelings through her interaction with the setting. For example, on her arrival, Lucy looks at her new home: “The ground was sunburned and barren except for patches of scrub here and there. ...The hot wind howled; the tents flapped and creaked; thick dust mixed with the smoke from a hundred cook fires, tinted red by the setting sun. Surely Hell was not far away.” Later, when Lucy has found a way to get home, we learn she does have mixed emotions: “Good riddance to ash and dust and mud. Good-bye, yellow hills and dry, cracked earth, pinecones and acorn cakes, evergreens, mountain peaks, and blue blue sky! ...Good-bye long soft autumn nights and the smell of pines and the hills ablaze with poppies.” Mama and Lucy are both interesting female characters, strong in their own ways, rooted in the period; and the conclusion is satisfying.

Bull Run, by Paul Fleischman (HarperCollins Children's Books, 1993)
Northerners, Southerners, generals, couriers, blacks, whites, dreaming boys, and worried sisters describe the glory, the horror, the thrill, and the disillusionment of the first battle of the Civil War. Fleischman uses sixteen points of view, presented in short chapters, which allows readers to experience a broad variety of perspectives. In addition, the writing is tight and crisp. I often read my favorite chapter (the second) aloud when I teach, for in a page and a half, Fleischman has crafted an entire story.

Hattie Big Sky, by Kirby Larson (Delacorte Press, 2006)
After inheriting her uncle’s homesteading claim in Montana, sixteen-year-old Hattie Brooks travels from Iowa in 1917 to make a home for herself. She has ten months to “prove up” the claim, and she encounters challenges presented both by the environment and the ongoing war in Europe. Hattie’s character is realistically developed; she is both spunky and vulnerable. Many authors avoid all references to religion; Larson's Hattie has religious faith that is realistic without being overwhelming. “Lord, I need a bit of income to see me through the harvest,” she once prays. “...I’m not particular but would appreciate Your help.” Readers will appreciate that as Hattie faces daunting losses, her own inner strength grows. “It’d been something big for me to ship myself out here, to work on Uncle Chester’s claim,” Hattie reflects. “But I was beginning to see there were bigger things in life than proving up on a claim. I was proving up on my life.” Throughout, figurative language springs from the characters’ worlds (“My mind filled up like a pretty girl’s dance card.” “My mama always said piecing quilts is like making friends…. Sometimes the more different fabrics—and people—are…the stronger the pattern.”) The book is not gritty, but still, it doesn’t shy away from depicting harsh realities. The ending is both surprising and inspiring, and the author includes an historical note, recipes, and a suggested reading list.

Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, by Gary D. Schmidt (Scholastic, 2005)
In 1911, Turner Buckminster hates his new home of Phippsburg, Maine. Things improve when he meets Lizzie Bright Griffin, a girl from a poor, nearby island community founded by former slaves that the town fathers—and Turner’s—want to change into a tourist spot. The novel was inspired by historical events, and Schmidt includes an author’s note at the end to help clarify his blend of facts and fiction. Schmidt’s language is lyrical, and figurative language always feels organic to the characters. (“Lizzie’s house watched New Meadows with weathered eyes. Its boards were warped beyond hope, and its roof slumped in the middle like a fallen pudding.”) This book has some shocking turns, but they underscore the realistic struggles of a decent boy trying to do the right thing in the face of horrific racism.

Lyddie, by Katherine Paterson, (Dutton, 1991)
Impoverished Vermont farm girl Lydia Worthen tries to earn enough money to keep her family together. After being separated from her young siblings, she is determined to gain her independence by becoming a factory worker in Lowell, Massachusetts, in the 1840s. Lyddie’s interaction with a runaway slave illustrates how an author can successfully show motivation for a character to act in a manner that is pleasing to modern readers, yet realistic. At the beginning of the novel, Lyddie has never met a slave, and has no particular sympathy for them. She finds the abstract idea of turning in a runaway for the reward money appealing. Once Lyddie actually meets a black man, however, her feelings begin to change. The change is gradual, but in time she admits to the man that she once considered solving her own family’s problems by cooperating with slave-catchers. “But I won’t,” she tells the man fiercely. “Now I know you, I couldn’t ever.” If Paterson had created a character who nobly opposed slavery from the beginning, no matter how desperate her own family’s financial situation, the girl would have been admirable—but unrealistic. Modern readers might wish that Lyddie’s choice somehow led to a happy family reunion, but instead, Lyddie pays a dear price for passing on the reward money.

Morning Girl, by Michael Dorris (Hyperion, 1992)
Morning Girl, who loves the day, and her younger brother Star Boy, who loves the night, take turns describing their life on an island in pre-Columbian America. Unlike many historical fiction authors, who maintain some authorial distance in order to provide context or explain details that aren’t entirely clear from dialogue, Dorris chose to write his two main characters with a tight, intimate point of view. Readers realize at the end that they do have more knowledge than Morning Girl when, in her final chapter, she experiences the arrival of strangers: “All the fat people in the canoe began pointing at me and talking at once. In their excitement they almost turned themselves over, and I allowed my body to sink beneath the waves for a moment in order to hide my smile. One must always treat guests with respect…even when they are brainless as gulls.” This short novel is poignant and thought-provoking.

Worth, by Alexandria LaFaye (Simon & Schuster, 2004)
In rural Nebraska in the 1870s, Nathaniel Peale suffers a farm accident, then feels displaced when his father brings home a boy from an orphan train to help at the farm. Nathaniel and his mother resent the boy, and don’t make his life easy. Readers will be uncomfortable with this reaction—but they sympathize with Nathaniel and his mom and understand why they feel as they do. Mother also helps support the family by “tinkering”—fixing things for their neighbors—although the family must pretend it is Father who is making the repairs. The motivation for characters' harsh thoughts and actions is clear, and instead of disliking these characters, readers understand and sympathize.