Monkey Island, by Paula Fox, for MMGM

Yesterday I took a pic of the blossoms in downtown Raleigh, near the science museum.

Pink blossoms in Raleigh, March 2016

You can feel how fresh and gorgeous and pink they are, right?  On a day like this, in spring, it can feel almost wrong to spotlight a book that’s sad and cold as Paula Fox’s Monkey Island.

This poor little kid has to deal with so much junk–and so do most his fellow travelers through this story.  And yet, I found Monkey Island to be much gentler than I was expecting, given the content, and within the darker shrouds of the story’s pain there’s a core of hope.  A promise of blossoms in the spring.

So, what’s it about?  Eleven-year old Clay Garrity is forced to find his own way, without the help of his mother or father or any other guardian.  His father lost his job, and eventually disappeared.  Now his mother–pregnant and struggling–has disappeared from the hotel where they were staying.  Clay knows that help might come through a social worker, but he’s seen how problematic ‘the system’ can be, and wants to stay close to the hotel, where he can watch for his mother’s return.  She’s going to come back.  She has to.

Meanwhile, he finds a place to sleep and a home of sorts in a wooden crate in the park, watched over by the two homeless men who try to help him.  Buddy and Calvin have little to offer, but they do their best to look after him, and keep him safe and alive as the New York winter sets in and the temperature drops.  If Clay listens to them and lets someone know where he is, he’ll be taken off the streets and may never see his parents again.  If he doesn’t, he may not survive the harsh conditions of his new life.

***spoilers below***

So, where in that implosion of the American Dream and disintegration of a child’s safety net is there hope, and the memory of pink blossoms?  Buddy and Calvin, for starters.  This unlikely team look out for each other, and because Buddy is soft-hearted and determined to do the right, they share everything they have with Clay, too, even though they’re going hungry themselves.  There’s also the coffee and donut guy, who does all he can to help the homeless people of the park.  And then there’s the workers and foster parents who are eventually given the chance to help Clay.  Finally, there’s the little sister his mom gives birth too, who is waiting with her when Clay and his mother are finally reunited.  When the book begins, it’s easy to read between the lines and recognize that this unexpected pregnancy, coming just when it did, spells disaster for the family.  Growing a baby takes energy that his mother doesn’t have.  It’s beautiful, then, that this baby sister becomes the most hopeful part of the book and the glue that begins to pull Clay and his family back together again.

I also really loved how little race mattered to Buddy, Calvin, or Clay.  What did it matter what the mix of their heritage was?  They were together in their circumstances.  In this, as in so many ways, I can see this book providing amazing discussions for the classroom or home, and I do think it would make a great read aloud.  However, I think that most middle grade kids who could be persuaded to read it, or might think to tackle it, could handle it on their own.  There are a couple scary scenes, or points in which Clay’s fear is felt.  But, for the most part the danger is muted, and each time he’s in jeopardy, Clay comes through okay because there are good people in the world who step in to help him.  Is this representative of reality on the streets?  I couldn’t say for sure, but I doubt it.  The hunger, cold, and insecurity are there, but none of the violence.  Still, to my mind that’s just as well.  No kid, on reading Monkey Island, is going to think life on the streets would be just the thing for them, and the story is made accessible through its looking at what I suspect is a slightly softened view.

Now, let’s see what the Apricot-kitty has to say:

“Falling through the gaps in the slats is hard on anyone, cat or human.  I was glad to see Clay landed on his feet, and I enjoyed the philosophical insights of Buddy and Calvin.  Buddy has the better heart, but Calvin’s mind was rather like a cats, and therefore fascinating.”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As usual, Apricot-kitty brings up a good point–that while the focus is on Clay and the story is told strictly through his perspective, a whole treatise on humanity could be written from a study of Calvin and Buddy.  Beautiful, fascinating stuff.  I highly recommend it!

For more Marvelous Middle Grade Monday spotlights, interviews, reviews and giveaways, stop by Shannon Messenger’s blog, and happy reading!

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10 Comments

    • Reply

      Isn’t it lovely? I’m just hoping we don’t run straight into summer, and can savor the spring a bit.

      Definitely one to keep a tissue box hand, just in case!

  1. Reply

    This would be a good companion book to SMALL AS AN ELEPHANT, another story about a boy searching for his parent. Thanks for your insights as I will certainly be giving it a look.

  2. Reply

    My pink tree is a weeping cherry that for some reason blooms later than everyone else’s, usually in mid-April. So I’m impatient for it to appear.

    I’ve heard of this book but never read it, although I’m sure I’ve read something else by Paula Fox. Yes, it does sound sad, but I’m okay with sad books as long as the ending leaves me with hope. I had a customer at the bookstore, a girl of about 12 or 13, who always wanted ONLY the sad books!

    • Reply

      I’m with you–sad is okay, and even desirable, so long as there’s hope! I also understand teen girls and their tears. 😉

      Hold on–spring is coming! lol

  3. Reply

    This sounds like an interesting read! It made me think of A Family Under the Bridge. I’m glad there’s hope as well. I tend to avoid super-sad or “issues” books, but this one sounds like one I’d like.

  4. Reply

    I haven’t read a Paula Fox book in a long time, but I always enjoyed what I did read of hers. That cover is incredible. I will definitely read this one. Thanks for the review.

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