Shadows jumping from roof to roof, eerie music played at double time, outrageous whimsy–there’s something slightly Halloween-ish about this book, or at the very least, October-like.  This despite the fact that it takes place over many seasons of the year, the main one being spring.  Since I happen to love all things October and Halloween, it should be no surprise that I loved Rooftoppers!

Underneath the whimsy, it’s a story of survival.  A little girl, Sophie, was found floating in a cello case in the ocean on her one-year-old birthday, after the Victorian ship she was on sunk in the English Channel.  She becomes the ward of an eccentric Englishman, Mr. Charles Maxim, who raises her to write on walls when she wants to leave a note and grab a book to eat dinner off of when plates aren’t handy.  He also raises her to believe in the possible, no matter how strange or wild it may seem.

As you might expect, there are those who don’t quite approve of his parenting methods.  Especially when it comes to her clothes–she prefers pants–and her education, which includes only a passing acquaintance with math.  These disapprovers decide that young Sophie should be taken from her beloved Mr. Maxim’s care, and this decision sparks a madcap race on the part of Sophie and her guardian to find her mother, whom Sophie has always believed was somehow still alive.  Across the rooftops of France and through the workings of a sickening insurance scheme condoned by the authorities their journey takes them.  Along the way Sophie not only makes strange and wild new friends, she discovers some of what makes her the person she is, and what that means to her.

The book is original and poetic, and as stated above I loved it…except on occasion when I didn’t.  There was a practical voice inside me that kept pushing at the whimsy of the book, nudging it like so much green jello, which it couldn’t quite imagine anyone voluntarily eating.  That practical side pointed out that being raised with no life skills and moreover little ability to gain them is not generally considered an advantage in life.  Having been raised in something like that fashion myself, I’m well aware of its shortcomings.  I also wished the book had done a little better job at stringing the plot beads together, or at least wrapping them all up at the end in a way that left this reader a bit more satisfied.  But then, it wasn’t really supposed to be a tidily wrapped package–that would be anathema of everything the book stood for–so perhaps it’s enough that I found it a memorable and haunting read.  Besides, if I wanted to listen to the practical voice inside me, I’d read nonfiction.

Let’s see what the Apricot-kitty has to say:

“Say what you like about the practicalities of children living on roof-tops, that girl had one thing right–her aversion to water.  Perhaps if more of you humans had a near drowning as a baby, you’d also have a more practical perspective on water and its uses.  She also showed a very sensible need to find the higher ground.  In fact, I like her so well I’d be happy to meet her up there so we could share the sunshine.”

Ah, yes!  You can only sympathize with Sophie’s instinctive need to find high ground when under duress.  It’s also true that whatever else the book struggled with, the character development in Sophie, Mr. Maxim, her new friend Matteo, and so on, was truly fabulous.  And perhaps that was part of the book’s charm–it read rather like a real life story with real life people, who just happened to be much more fantastic than anyone you or I is likely to meet.

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

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