The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie: Miss Marple Meets Harriet the Spy

"In his wickedly brilliant first novel, Debut Dagger Award winner Alan Bradley introduces one of the most singular and engaging heroines in recent fiction: eleven-year-old Flavia de Luce, an aspiring chemist with a passion for poison."



My book club recently read The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie and it has stuck in my mind for a couple reasons.

First, there is the precocious young sleuth, Flavia, who reminds me of another of my favorite girl-detectives, Enola Holmes. Like Enola, Flavia is educated beyond her years and struggles with the loss of a mother and the isolation of her upper-class upbringing. Both are strong heroines, living in times where the role of women is in flux, Enola in Victorian Britain and Flavia in the post-war years.

Second, this book raised the question among my fellow book-clubbers as to whether it should be classified as Young Adult. The vintage feel of the book's thick, apple-green cover and large typeface recalls the books we read as kids and the story is written from the perspective of a young heroine. However, the language and tone are well beyond your average 11 year old and the arc of the mystery seems to have the adult reader in mind.

So, what makes a story YA literature? My search for an answer took me to a post by Cheryl Klein in her Brooklyn Arden blog. Her definition has five key points (although I highly recommend reading Klein's further discussion, as that's where the meat of her analysis lies):

"A YA novel is (1) centrally interested in the experience and growth of (2) its teenage protagonist(s), (3) whose dramatized choices, actions, and concerns drive the (4) story, and it is (5) narrated with relative immediacy to that teenage perspective."

As kid-lit, The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie falters on #1 and #5. Our narrator is a pre-teen and her actions drive the story but there is a distance between Flavia’s experiences and the reader. Flavia's youth is a tool to develop the mystery rather than the central issue of the story. As a child, Flavia is able to do and say what adults might not, which adds an interesting element, but the author's focus seems to lie in the period details and his depiction of class and society rather than what it's like to be an 11 year old girl.

Regardless of how it is categorized, I look forward to seeing where Bradley takes Flavia in the second of the Buckshaw Chronicles, The Weed That Strings the Hangman’s Bag, due out in March 2010. Also check out the author's website to join the Flavia fan club.

Author: Bradley, Alan
Publisher: Delacorte Press
Publication Date: 2009

The Flower Man

I am mesmerized by this lovely picture book I found while Christmas shopping for my husband's niece. The Flower Man is a wordless picture book whose story unfolds in a series of complex street scenes.  One man sharing a single flower sets off a chain reaction in a dark, lonely town and each page gets progressively more colorful as neighbors make connections and start to interact with each other. It's fun and surprisingly challenging to trace each character through the book, seeing how they change as a simple act of kindness ripples through the neighborhood. (A couple of my favorites are the war veteran and Jimmy Stewart in his wheelchair from Rear Window.)

Whimsically detailed characters and densely populated pages will keep you coming back to this book. Check out Mark Ludy's site for other titles. I'm adding The Farmer to my reading list.

 

Encyclopedia Brown, Super Sleuth

Not much has changed in Idaville since I left it 25 years ago. Encyclopedia Brown is still charging 25 cents for his detective services, Sally Kimball is still the tough and pretty girl next door and Bugs Meany is still sporting that strange pointed hat.  Kids still have names like Duke and Baldy, and the bad guys are still awfully quick to confess when confronted by an overly perceptive 12 year old.

Am I disappointed that Encyclopedia hasn’t grown and changed with me over the years?  Not really.  The ten year old inside me still devoured each mystery and even solved a few without checking the answers in the back.

The Case of the Cryptic Crinoline: An Enola Holmes Mystery

I love a good Victorian mystery and this series by Nancy Springer is smart and inventive, with an intrepid young heroine. 

The Case of the Cryptic Crinoline is the fifth book following the adventures of Enola Holmes, the young sister of the famous detective, Sherlock. The series opens in 1888 with the 14 year old Enola reeling from the sudden disappearance of her mother and facing the prospect of being packed off to finishing school by her older brothers. Having been left to her own devices by her strong-minded, reformist mother, Enola has spent her childhood exploring the English countryside and educating herself in the estate's library. She has a will and a wit to rival her brothers' and has no desire to conform to conventions of proper womanhood. So, donning the first among many disguises, she flees the family home and sets off for London. Once on her own, Enola embarks on a series of adventures, plying her detection skills as Ivy Meshle, assistant to the imaginary Dr. Ragostin, the world’s first Scientific Perditorian.

In this latest case, Enola is faced with the abduction of her elderly ("heavens, she had to be more than 50!") landlady, Mrs. Tupper. Enola must piece together a 30 year old mystery and is quickly on the trail of clues, such as the significance of embroidery on a woman's undergarment, that the men around her easily miss. Once again, Enola is hurtling headlong through the streets of London, from East End tenements to the luxurious Mayfair estate of Florence Nightingale (yes, that Florence Nightingale), struggling to dodge evil villains while staying one step ahead of Sherlock.

Enola is an endearing narrator, faced with the loneliness of being estranged from her family but still determined to live life on her own terms. Through her we glimpse the behind-the-scenes world of Victorian women and observe the duality of Enola's social ideals and the high-minded snobbery of her aristocratic upbringing. Interestingly, it is the class system that helps make Enola such an accomplished mistress of disguise. By understanding the nuances of dress, carriage and accent that separate the social classes, Enola becomes a chameleon, able to hide in plain sight as a widow, a shop girl or a lady of means. Constantly disparaging of her own looks (tall, thin and "hawk-nosed" like her brother), Enola relishes her ability to turn herself into someone entirely new with the right dress, wig and corset.

Attention to historic detail and complexity of character make the Enola Holmes series a real treat. Keep your eye out for The Case of the Gypsy Goodbye slated for 2010.