Neil Flambé and the Crusader’s Curse (2012), by Kevin Sylvester

You won’t be able to buy this one quite yet. It is set for release on May 8th. You can pre-order copies from the large online retailers, or (my preference) KidsBooks in Vancouver. Or, if you are lucky enough to live in the Toronto area, you can meet Kevin at the Toronto Public Library (40 Orchard View Blvd, Toronto) at 9 am on 12 May 2012. Or so the Simon& Schuster website tells me. They even have a map…

Neil Flambé and the Crusader’s Curse

I am so used to Kevin Sylvester’s cast of characters representing the cultural diversity that I know as Vancouver that an important, subtly expressed, relationship in The Crusader’s Curse failed to surprise me sufficiently: or so I am told. It was called to my attention by another reviewer to whom I lent my copy, a reviewer who is prominent in the children’s literature world for his active support of GBLTQ literature for readers of all ages. In the penultimate chapter, Jean-Claude Chili comments that his friend Hugo Victoire “eez used to loud noises. I snore like a greezly bear” (274). They have been together for “many years” Jean-Claude admits, and he strove to keep Hugo, like his sister—the people he loves—out of what he knew to be a very dangerous situation. Nothing more. For years now GLBTQ critics have been asking for texts that aren’t about homosexuality, or about “coming out,” or focus on the conflicts raging within our strongly heteronormative society, but rather present alternative sexualities as a non-confrontational reality, as they should be. Such representation is slowly beginning to appear. Neil Flambé and the Crusader’s Curse, even more than the first two culturally diverse texts in the series, lies in the vanguard of social tolerance.

More than that, though, The Crusader’s Curse is another delectable taste of mystery and adventure: an international Stanley Park for children. When the Neil Flambé cookbook comes out (I mention the possibility purely from desire, not from insider knowledge), I will immediately cook the recipes from this novel (if I can get my hands on some fresh seagull)! If you ever need to seriously cook your Canada goose—or hedgehog, or garter snake—Neil Flambé is your man, or rather, boy.

But Neil is growing up. As he hits his fifteenth birthday, he seems to have lost his panache; the food he serves his guests appalls them, and the arrogant boy-chef learns to eat humble pie. The reader, privy to the historical backstory upon which Sylvester loves to construct his narrative palimpsests, knows that the curse of the Flambés has descended: Neil’s culinary senses have desserted him. He is almost overcome, and readers are on tenderhooks as they follow Neil’s vacillation between depression, anxiety, and anger, with only enough information (such is Sylvester’s admirable narrative control) to trust that the plot will not burst into flame in the oven. It almost does, and I must admit that the final scenes were hard to follow, relying as they did on the reader’s ability to create visual images from the barrage of action words required. But the failing, I know, lies in this reader: the children to whom I lent the book loved the ending with all of its excitement combined with Sylvester’s inimitable sense of humour. But it made me wonder if there are anime artists and producers waiting to create a film version for us? And would we want that…? Perhaps not: Sylvester’s language not only reveals his subtle, sardonic humour in a way that film could not, but also creates layers of narrative that replicate the nuances of culinary artistry, drawing on all of our senses, not only the visual. So, Mr. Sylvester, back into your garret to garnish Neil Flambé #4 (Neil Flambé and the Tokyo Treasure), or are you starting on that cookbook yet?

The Gargoyle Overhead (2010), by Philippa Dowding

This review was first published in Resource Links Magazine, “Canada’s national journal devoted to the review and evaluation of Canadian English and French resources for children and young adults.” It appears in volume 16.1.

The Gargoyle Overhead

Philippa Dowding has followed The Gargoyle in my Yard (2009) with a gripping tale of suspense, perfectly moulded for the 8-12 year old reader.  The story incorporates magic delightfully into a well-constructed, realist presentation of modern Toronto. Unfortunately, in this book, we do not learn why these gargoyles are alive while others are not, and for readers who have not had the privilege of reading The Gargoyle in my Yard, the rightful “ownership” of Gargoth, the gargoyle of the title, becomes a question towards the end.  Readers will look past these small omissions easily, however, for the joy of following Dowding’s engaging tale.
Dowding’s protagonists are genuine and interesting, and the balance of autonomy and dependence she gives young Katherine will satisfy both parents and young readers.  Gargoth and his best friend, Ambergine, are both well-rounded characters in the their own rights, and readers will fall in love with both of them. I would love to see an illustrated edition, as the body language of Dowding’s gargoyles is so much a part of their characterization.  Dowding’s plot moves quickly, despite the flashbacks to Ambergine and Gargoth’s years together and apart since the 1660s in France.  European and American history is blended artfully into Gargoth’s story, heightening the sense of the gargoyles’ magical existence, and of their loneliness during 148 years apart.  The ending of the novel, while not precluding further tales, leaves the two gargoyles free agents in their lives: a happy ending, but certainly not what the reader will expect.  Overall, I would highly recommend this story to young independent readers with an interest in magic and magical creatures.

Grail: The Heretic’s Secret, Book II (2010), by John Wilson

This review was first published in Resource Links Magazine, Canada’s national journal devoted to the review and evaluation of Canadian English and French resources for children and young adults. It appears in volume 16.2.

Grail

Grail suffers from the plague that besets all great historical novels: the reader cannot determine with certainty where the history leaves off and the fictional narrative begins.  To say that John Wilson has done his homework is not, I think, giving him sufficient credit. He has not only researched both historical setting and historical incident, but manages to convey, through his densely packed narrative, what feels to be the reality of life during the Crusades.  The historian in me despairs that we can never know, for sure, how close his account comes, but for modern readers, I think it more than suffices.
His tale revolves around four main characters: friends and comrades who must choose their own paths through the tumultuous political landscape of Southern Europe in 1211.  John and Isabella seek knowledge and truth in the deserted libraries of Al-Andalus; their childhood friend Peter follows the Church leaders in the search for the Holy Grail and the persecution of heretics; Adso, their soldier companion, has his own troubles, which lead him to the brink of destruction.  Their stories are entwined in the history of the Knight Crusaders’ persecution of the Cathar heretics of Southern France, and the search for both the mythical Grail and the apocryphal Gospel of the Christ.  The characters are engaging and consistent.  We value the wisdom of he who became St. Francis of Assisi, and respect John’s search for learning as an artist, but one wonders how the modern young adult reader will respond to the voices in Peter’s head and the stigmata on his hands and feet.  In this instance, the confluence of historical fact and authorial narration becomes problematic.  Most of the archaic thoughts and beliefs—such as Peter’s opinion that “[i]f God wished us to see the moon and stars as if they were in our hands … [h]e would have given us the eyesight to do so” (236)—can be interpreted within their historic context; Peter’s voices and stigmata, on the other hand, we are asked to accept as real.  If one can set aside the wonder and questions that this raises, we are left with a tightly woven tale of intrigue and mystery, presented in the most authentic of medieval armour and cloak.  For the lover of historical fiction, a series to be savoured.