My column this month is about truth and includes several nonfiction titles that I think all tell stories worth knowing. One in particular though, People Like Us by Joris Luyendijk, really impressed the hell out of me. Here's a bit of my review:

As he [Luyendijk] riffs on one level of insanity after another (“Egypt’s dictator is called ‘President’ even though he inherited his job from his predecessor who, in turn, used force to gain power. This particular dictator leads the ‘National Democratic Party’ which is neither democratic nor a party.”), Luyendijk maintains an attitude of wit and bemused sarcasm that will be particularly appealing to older teens. He isn’t talking down to his readers at all, but in fact is actually trusting them to be smart enough to be talked up to. This is a journalist who says: Let me tell you how it really is, even though it isn’t easy to hear. The mind reels with one revelation after another. Those all too commonly displayed images of protestors damning America, and burning its flag in spontaneous riots, that instill the conviction of “them vs. us” into our national conversation? “Guys,” he writes, “you probably think that a demonstration is something citizens use freely to express whatever they are for or against, but in a dictatorship such ‘outbursts of anger’ are often staged or are at least heavily managed by the regime.”

...With every word, Luyendijk provides a different perspective on what we think we know, and challenges head on what we are accustomed to believing. Killer smart and devastatingly direct, this is journalism at its best. A book for back pockets and backpacks, for classroom discussion and those determined to take on the world, People Like Us is not to be missed.

I know a lot of people are intimidated by books on current events - especially in the Middle East - but this is a very easy book to read. Luyendijk knows his audience and he speaks to them in a hip, casual tone - as someone who wants to hang out and talk international politics like it's football or the latest American Idol results. In other words, he's not pontificating, he's not some politician or partisan talking head demanding that you see things only his way. He's simply a guy whose been there and seen it and is smart enough to write about it all in a very appealing manner. And you want to hang out with him, because he really has some very interesting things to say. Consider this from an interview he gave last fall with ABC Australia:

They'd like to pretend that it is all very heroic and then someone comes up and just says well actually, um, it wasn't heroic at all. You just exposed a politician for what he really does. He won't be grateful either.

I really meant what I said in my review - that People Like Us belongs in backpacks and back pockets. It's the kind of truth that I think will be embraced by anyone of any age who wants to know what is going on - that just want a straight shooter with no political ax of their own to grind to tell them how it is or if they don't know then admit that and explain what they do know. If I was 17 and dreamed of changing the world this is the book I would reach for, hands down. I can't wait to see what this very talented journalist does next. (Oh - and no surprise, it's the fabulous Soft Skull Press who published the U.S. edition.)

[Post pic of the man himself. Is it wrong that I find this photo wildly appealing? :)]

One of the things that came up in the past couple of months during the flurry of postings about whitewashing covers and diversity in reviewing, etc. was a brief mention that I was accusing some authors of "racisim by omission". This one gave me pause - serious pause - and because of it (and because I was really tired) I pulled back from the subject for a little while. The accusation came up because I had posted that reviewers should mention when a book has an all Caucasian cast that would be just fine if it had characters of a different race. In other words (and I'm ONLY using this as an example) Bella could have been African American or Latina or Pakistani and Twilight still would have worked just fine. Her ethnicity doesn't have anything to do with the story and yet because Caucasian is all too often the default in publishing (especially YA) she is, of course, White.

But upon reflection I realize that in essence I was saying we should note when authors omit characters of different ethnicity from their books which, yes, would be accusing them of racism by omission. That is, in effect, saying you have written a perfectly fine book but as it is not the book that I want to read it is wrong. And as all we all know that is never a good thing for a reviewer to do. Plus, I'm not the diversity police. And yet. And yet. I can't just let this go.

The thing is, if every single book published had Caucasian characters and we never said anything because we didn't want to accuse authors of racism by omission then that would be laughable. Obviously everyone would think it was absurd not to cry racism in such an obvious circumstance. As it is now, the preponderance of teen books published have straight Caucasian (mostly blonde) characters. But we have entered into a period where it is not AS bad as it used to be and so reviewers only point out the obvious (whitewashed covers for example) and tread softly on the rest. We might say we personally wish Bella was African American or that she and "Edward" were lesbians but we don't review the book that way because it's not all about what any one reviewer wants. I don't want to pick on Meyer for race. (I'll happily pick on her for creating a spineless character, however.) But do we ever say anything about books excluding non-White characters? Is there ever a correct instance to point this out?

I'm asking because I have a problem with a book I recently read. Here's my straightforward review:

Richard Sala has created romp of a British boarding school mystery with a major Lemony Snicket spin in his graphic novel Cat Burglar Black. Orphan “K” was raised in a foster home with a Faganesque housemother who forced her charges to commit crimes. K has become quite the crafty cat burglar but is delighted as a teen to have an unknown aunt surface and invite her to a life of comfort out in the country in her boarding school. Unfortunately the aunt has taken grievously ill by the time K arrives and instead she is met by a bizarre group of teachers, three slightly strange fellow students, and the news that all classes have been canceled. Immediately suspicious (of course, of course), K. starts snooping and the house of cards that has been built for her benefit rapidly falls to pieces. There is a big huge conspiracy of thievery in place and K. has to help steal some old paintings in order to solve a puzzle and hopefully recover a fortune in gold and jewels. She also has to stay alive which is not so easy (this would be when a lot of the Snicket-touches play into the plot). Multiple mysteries unfold such as the location of her ailing aunt and the source of a ghostly voice emanating from an old statue. K is plucky and determined though and equally adept at scaling a roof or outrunning scary beasts. In the end, in the best Nancy Drew fashion, the bad guys are identified and the good ones rescued. There is still the question of what happened to K’s schoolmates however, but Sala handily leaves their fates open to a sequel. Overall Cat Burglar Black is a fun read with lovely illustrations and a snappy, guilty pleasurish plot.

So, there you go - all sounds fine, right? Except when it comes to the four teenage girls. With a blonde, brunette, redhead and K., with solid white hair, Sala seems to have gone out of his way to keep the girls Caucasian while struggling to make them distinguishable. (The only difference is hair length.) It would have been a lot easier to actually make this a multicultural cast of characters and I wish I knew why Sala didn’t go that route because honestly you can't tell the supporting cast apart. Was he trying to make the three other girls so similar they didn't matter? I don't honestly know - I just know that they spoke the same, had similar backgrounds, never stood out from one another as being nicer or meaner or funnier and dropped on cue like flies. I actually paged back and forth at first to see which was which and then just gave up. It became a nuisance to me that I couldn't keep them straight so if he did it on purpose he succeeded but it affected my ability to enjoy the book. So why not have at least one of them be a different race?

That's how I read the book and what I thought when I was done. But when it comes to reviewing a title like this, what should a reviewer do? Do you skirt the racism by omission topic and let it go or do you mention it? Do you just say that you couldn't tell the girls apart and leave it at that? Isn't that kind of wimping out though? Is it wrong to say these girls were four Caucasian cliches and ask why the author/illustrator did this?

Bottom line, is it ever appropriate to discuss racism by omission in a review?

I've been paging through the very delightful Big Wolf & Little Wolf: The Little Leaf That Wouldn't Fall and wondering just how to fit in a picture book review in my column when I received the current issue of National Geographic and realized I really needed to be talking about this one here and why it matters on multiple levels. Wolves are the topic in Nat Geo again this month, as they have been off and on. The war over killing, then saving and now having successfully saved them turning to kill them again, has been part and parcel of the wolf story in America for quite some time now. And as I've written here before (and here about dogs and wolves and stories) much of how we feel about wolves is wrapped around the stories we've told about them for centuries. The wolf stories are all bad, every single one. We just don't have cute and fuzzy wolf stories and that is part of why I think the Big Wolf & Little Wolf books are so important.

They are also very sweet and lovely to look at.

Betsy reviewed Big Wolf & Little Wolf last fall and nails much of what I liked about it on the head:

Most recently, in has slipped an understated but infinitely charming little series starring two wolves with childlike neuroses. Big Wolf and Little Wolf comes straight from the sunny shores of France and for those parents looking for a new sibling book, this may be one of the less common alternatives out there. One of the sweeter too.

The "sibling" relationship is worked out in the first book and in this second title Nadine Brun-Cosme turns to finding the perfect gift for a friend (in this case a leaf) and also the beauty of a simple act of kindness. The two wolves are dear friends and spend fall and winter studying a nearby tree and its slowly falling leaves. Big Wolf goes through all sorts of peril to climb and get Little Wolf the leaf he wants so desperately and Little Wolf is deeply appreciative. It's about being good friends (or brothers) but mostly it's about taking time to really know the person (or wolf) you care about. And Olivier Tallec's gorgeous pastel pictures (with the wolves wearing mittens and hats this time - way too cute) complement this lyrical story to perfection. It's direct and obvious on one level but also elegant and deep on another. Simply put, there is no talking down to the reader and I think a lot of kids will appreciate that a lot, just as much as they will getting to know these two characters a little better.

But more than all of that - beyond a lovely story that is so pretty to look at - Nadine Brun-Cosme has created nonthreatening wolves. She gives us the stories that lions, tigers and bears have had but wolves have missed out on. It's a simple thing really (and I wonder if Brun-Cosme even thought about it) but can you imagine if we had books like these for the last 200 years? Maybe we wouldn't be so terrified of wolves. Maybe we wouldn't think they were evil. Maybe we wouldn't think they don't deserve to live. Consider this from National Geographic:

After an earlier federal decision to de­list Western wolves in 2008, Wyoming essentially defined the animals as varmints, or pests, allow­ing virtually unlimited shooting and trapping year-round. A resulting lawsuit forced the wildlife service to temporarily put wolves back on the endangered list. (Since then, the service has refused to take them off in Wyoming until that state comes up with a different plan.)

On the one hand, Big Wolf & Little Wolf are just characters in a couple of very well done picture books. But on so many other levels they are quietly revolutionary. Watch a leaf that would not fall, meet a friend who seeks the perfect gift, read about a little wolf who says "That was the most beautiful thing I ever saw." Fall in love with a couple of wolves and be as happy about it as I am.

ETA: Just out of Alaska comes news that the state will be using helicopters to shoot wolves in the Fortymile region near Tok to boost moose & caribou numbers for hunting, "The state wants to cull almost 200 of the estimated 300 wolves that biologists said range in the control area." And also, the Game board has approved for the "buffer zone" around Denali State Park to be opened to trapping so the protected packs on federal land may be trapped if they stray outside the park: " The wolf population is the lowest it has been since 1987, park authorities say. While they don't know for sure why the numbers have plummeted, they say there has been trapping pressure on the animals.

There are about 70 wolves left in the 6-million-acre park."

The safest place for a wolf in Alaska is the Anchorage Zoo, period.

[Photo by Jeff Vanuga from Nat Geo.]