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4.18 AVERAGE
4.18 AVERAGE
It was a cute book, but it didn't hold my interest a lot.
All in all...Charming, Magical, hopeful and very haunting portrayal of what parental abuse and living with such feels like for kids and their love ones.
adventurous
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
sad
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
adventurous
mysterious
tense
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
When I started this book, as someone who has survived childhood abuse, I was afraid it would be triggering, even though I knew it was written for kids. I'm relieved to report that it wasn't. That aspect of the book was tactfully handled. In fact, it became a compelling element as the story developed and bits & pieces were dropped throughout, but never enough to turn the abuse itself into a source of amusement. Overall, the story was well-written and hard to stop reading, but there was one big thing that ruined it for me: speciesism. The author tried to incorporate other forward-thinking elements by including characters of all ages, sizes, sexual orientations, etc. but the only positive thing done for animals was to introduce the idea that providing "nonmeat" options should be normal. Otherwise, the book is chock full of speciesism and animal exploitation, from the backyard chickens, to the mountains of dairy and meat that all the human characters consume, to the stereotypical treatment of predator animals as fairytale villains. It's just impossible for me to enjoy a book that is trying so hard to help humans out of abusive situations while at the same time encouraging the entrapment of other animals in unimaginably worse ones.
adventurous
emotional
reflective
medium-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
Yes
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Yes
Understanding Sam
From fifth graders:
Really great illustrations
Great writing
A little confusing
Hard to balance reality, fantasy, and game
Needed more background
Left with more questions
Would like a sequel
What did the letter say?
From fifth graders:
Really great illustrations
Great writing
A little confusing
Hard to balance reality, fantasy, and game
Needed more background
Left with more questions
Would like a sequel
What did the letter say?
Beautiful. Even though it was written using age appropriate language and descriptions it was still an engaging book for me to read as an adult. A wonderful story that balanced sadness and hope.
We’re all having a rough year. And by “we” I pretty much mean “the entire world” is having a rough year. Things are not good. To escape, many of us typically turn to books. Kids are the same way. Now as an adult, I’m a bit of a wimp. I like blithe, happy novels. Stories in which peril is present but toothless. Maybe that’s why I gravitate towards children’s books more than adult ones. Under normal circumstances they offer a bit of respite from the darker material out there. But as this is 2020 and the world is full of complexity and problems, it should be of little surprise that the children’s books I encounter reflect those same complications. I’ve always said that books for youth serve as a mirror for the great grand conversations going on in the world. And if there is one particular trend I’ve noticed in my middle grade novels, it is without a doubt physical abuse, usually by family members. From Fighting Words to [b: Chirp|44281037|Chirp|Kate Messner|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1576045553l/44281037._SY75_.jpg|68794542] to [b: Prairie Lotus|44230407|Prairie Lotus|Linda Sue Park|https://i.gr-assets.com/images/S/compressed.photo.goodreads.com/books/1565527246l/44230407._SY75_.jpg|68760562] (to a lesser extent), it’s handled in a variety of different ways. Some books are almost explicit while others merely allude to past incidents. It’s almost unfair to mention A Game of Fox and Squirrels in the same breath as these other books, though. While those double down on getting the “real” part of “realistic fiction” just right, author Jenn Reese goes a different route. Hers is a psychological novel that flirts with magical realism. There are foxes in waistcoats and squirrels that betray or befriend depending on the circumstances. What happens, though, is that after you finish reading this novel, somehow it has ended up feeling even more real than those straight up realistic books. With Jenn Reese’s great narrative risks come even greater rewards.
Just a quick note that there are some mild spoilers on this review. Feel free to keep reading if you don't mind, but if you like surprises, best that you stop right here.
It’s not permanent. That’s what 11-year-old Samantha keeps telling herself. The fact that she and her older sister have been sent away from their parents in L.A. to go live with some aunt in Oregon? Temporary. Resistant to change, Sam is unprepared for her Aunt Vicky, and Vicky’s wife Hannah, to be so welcoming. Vicky even bestows upon Sam an old game called Fox & Squirrels. And it isn’t long before she sees it that Sam is visits by an actual waistcoated fox and his attendant squirrels for a dangerous game. If Sam succeeds in interpreting what the fox wants, she gets a single wish for anything she wants. And what Sam wants is for everything to go back to the way that it was. But as she plays the fox’s game, and gets to know her aunt better, Sam slowly begins to realize that sometimes what you want and what you need are very different. But that’s the thing about playing with a fox. Once the game starts, it doesn’t end until he gets what he wants.
My 9-year-old daughter still prefers that when I am reading a novel I should describe to her the plot of it as I go. In describing A Game of Fox and Squirrels though, she was baffled. I had explained that the main character’s father had done something terrible and that was why the girls had been taken away. At the same time, Samantha is single-mindedly focused on everything going back to the way it used to be, abuse and all. My daughter was, to put it mildly, flabbergasted. And her reaction, I am sure, can be mimicked in a lot of the kids reading this book. This is why it’s so clever that Reese doles out the information on why the girls have left their parents as carefully as she does. Aside from the obvious advantages of setting up the mystery of what happened back in L.A. for the sake of suspense, it allows the child reader to come to like Samantha before coming to the stunning realization that for her “safe” and “home” are not the same things. Samantha’s selective memory of past events is also woven into the narrative, which isn’t first person but stays firmly focused on her as a character. For Reese to successfully pull this novel off, she has to clear up the confusion of why Samantha would ever want to go back to her father by tying that relationship directly to one character: The fox.
Make no mistake, there is a reason you know the fox, meet the fox, and never ever meet or see Samantha’s father in this book. You know that old adage authors are told to adhere to, “Show don’t tell”? When a writer knows what they are doing, you’ll get to see those words put into practice. With infinite cleverness Reese doesn’t tell you much about Sam and Caitlin's father, and she doesn’t even directly tell you much about the fox. Instead, peppered throughout the story, are the rules of playing the card game Fox & Squirrels. Part of the game is to win the fox’s favor by showing your loyalty. And the little sections that talk about the fox speak of it in this way:
“A happy Fox requires very little effort to please. Give the Fox a pair of matching cards, and he’ll stay happy. You can continue on with your day. Earning the favor of a charming Fox is trickier. Sometimes three cards of the same number will appease him, and sometimes he wants three cards with their numbers all in a row. It’s all about what the Fox wants in that particular moment, and no one knows what that is except the Fox! Try everything you can think of. Be as clever as you dare. Hope for the best.”
This distinction between the three ways the Fox can be (Happy, Charming, or Hunting) and the ways you can bend over backwards to appease him echo nicely in the storyline. Throughout the book you watch the squirrels act out this ballet, blaming one another if one upsets the fox somehow, or blaming themselves. You read this book and understand what it means to live on tenterhooks around someone, never knowing if an off-chance sentence or sentiment will anger them. So Reese weaves her storyline in and out between these rules, the actual Fox, and memories of Samantha’s dad (who even then is never fleshed out in any real way). Kids who have never lived with someone with anger issues will suddenly have a window into what living that life entails. Kids that know precisely what Reese is talking about may find both a mirror and a door.
Truly great books for kids have to jump through a number of hoops. Humor is not required but is greatly appreciated (and this book is sure to include some of that). Beautiful descriptive writing is always a delight (“Shadows reached up from the ground, looping dark tendrils around roots and pulling flowers into darkness”). The motivations of the characters should be clear cut and believable. And the characters themselves? Well, here’s a thought. Let’s look at Samantha’s older sister Caitlin. It wasn’t until the end of the book that an idea dawned upon me. The true hero of this story isn’t necessarily Samantha. She’s our protagonist and she’s working through something difficult, but when you get near the end of the book you come to realize that the real hero all along has been her older sister Caitlin. The sister who has literally sacrificed herself for the good of her sister. She, like all the other characters in this book, is seen relatively briefly but is fleshed out lovingly as the story progresses. So complex character development? Check and check and check.
When I was a kid, I had a thing for foxes. I wonder what I would have made of the current foxy crop of books. Between this and Scary Stories for Young Foxes, foxes are getting into some seriously dark territory these days. Even so, I found Jenn Reese’s book a sheer pleasure to read. It’s a mystery. It’s a game. It’s filled with puzzles and riddles and clues. It’s funny, and it’s deadly serious. Parts are evocative and parts are heartfelt and parts are completely unforgettable. Having a rough day/week/month/year? Cuddle up to this. Challenging enough to intrigue you. Enticing enough to keep you.
For ages 9-12.
Just a quick note that there are some mild spoilers on this review. Feel free to keep reading if you don't mind, but if you like surprises, best that you stop right here.
It’s not permanent. That’s what 11-year-old Samantha keeps telling herself. The fact that she and her older sister have been sent away from their parents in L.A. to go live with some aunt in Oregon? Temporary. Resistant to change, Sam is unprepared for her Aunt Vicky, and Vicky’s wife Hannah, to be so welcoming. Vicky even bestows upon Sam an old game called Fox & Squirrels. And it isn’t long before she sees it that Sam is visits by an actual waistcoated fox and his attendant squirrels for a dangerous game. If Sam succeeds in interpreting what the fox wants, she gets a single wish for anything she wants. And what Sam wants is for everything to go back to the way that it was. But as she plays the fox’s game, and gets to know her aunt better, Sam slowly begins to realize that sometimes what you want and what you need are very different. But that’s the thing about playing with a fox. Once the game starts, it doesn’t end until he gets what he wants.
My 9-year-old daughter still prefers that when I am reading a novel I should describe to her the plot of it as I go. In describing A Game of Fox and Squirrels though, she was baffled. I had explained that the main character’s father had done something terrible and that was why the girls had been taken away. At the same time, Samantha is single-mindedly focused on everything going back to the way it used to be, abuse and all. My daughter was, to put it mildly, flabbergasted. And her reaction, I am sure, can be mimicked in a lot of the kids reading this book. This is why it’s so clever that Reese doles out the information on why the girls have left their parents as carefully as she does. Aside from the obvious advantages of setting up the mystery of what happened back in L.A. for the sake of suspense, it allows the child reader to come to like Samantha before coming to the stunning realization that for her “safe” and “home” are not the same things. Samantha’s selective memory of past events is also woven into the narrative, which isn’t first person but stays firmly focused on her as a character. For Reese to successfully pull this novel off, she has to clear up the confusion of why Samantha would ever want to go back to her father by tying that relationship directly to one character: The fox.
Make no mistake, there is a reason you know the fox, meet the fox, and never ever meet or see Samantha’s father in this book. You know that old adage authors are told to adhere to, “Show don’t tell”? When a writer knows what they are doing, you’ll get to see those words put into practice. With infinite cleverness Reese doesn’t tell you much about Sam and Caitlin's father, and she doesn’t even directly tell you much about the fox. Instead, peppered throughout the story, are the rules of playing the card game Fox & Squirrels. Part of the game is to win the fox’s favor by showing your loyalty. And the little sections that talk about the fox speak of it in this way:
“A happy Fox requires very little effort to please. Give the Fox a pair of matching cards, and he’ll stay happy. You can continue on with your day. Earning the favor of a charming Fox is trickier. Sometimes three cards of the same number will appease him, and sometimes he wants three cards with their numbers all in a row. It’s all about what the Fox wants in that particular moment, and no one knows what that is except the Fox! Try everything you can think of. Be as clever as you dare. Hope for the best.”
This distinction between the three ways the Fox can be (Happy, Charming, or Hunting) and the ways you can bend over backwards to appease him echo nicely in the storyline. Throughout the book you watch the squirrels act out this ballet, blaming one another if one upsets the fox somehow, or blaming themselves. You read this book and understand what it means to live on tenterhooks around someone, never knowing if an off-chance sentence or sentiment will anger them. So Reese weaves her storyline in and out between these rules, the actual Fox, and memories of Samantha’s dad (who even then is never fleshed out in any real way). Kids who have never lived with someone with anger issues will suddenly have a window into what living that life entails. Kids that know precisely what Reese is talking about may find both a mirror and a door.
Truly great books for kids have to jump through a number of hoops. Humor is not required but is greatly appreciated (and this book is sure to include some of that). Beautiful descriptive writing is always a delight (“Shadows reached up from the ground, looping dark tendrils around roots and pulling flowers into darkness”). The motivations of the characters should be clear cut and believable. And the characters themselves? Well, here’s a thought. Let’s look at Samantha’s older sister Caitlin. It wasn’t until the end of the book that an idea dawned upon me. The true hero of this story isn’t necessarily Samantha. She’s our protagonist and she’s working through something difficult, but when you get near the end of the book you come to realize that the real hero all along has been her older sister Caitlin. The sister who has literally sacrificed herself for the good of her sister. She, like all the other characters in this book, is seen relatively briefly but is fleshed out lovingly as the story progresses. So complex character development? Check and check and check.
When I was a kid, I had a thing for foxes. I wonder what I would have made of the current foxy crop of books. Between this and Scary Stories for Young Foxes, foxes are getting into some seriously dark territory these days. Even so, I found Jenn Reese’s book a sheer pleasure to read. It’s a mystery. It’s a game. It’s filled with puzzles and riddles and clues. It’s funny, and it’s deadly serious. Parts are evocative and parts are heartfelt and parts are completely unforgettable. Having a rough day/week/month/year? Cuddle up to this. Challenging enough to intrigue you. Enticing enough to keep you.
For ages 9-12.
adventurous
challenging
emotional
hopeful
inspiring
reflective
fast-paced
Plot or Character Driven:
A mix
Strong character development:
Yes
Loveable characters:
Yes
Diverse cast of characters:
No
Flaws of characters a main focus:
Complicated
An amazing amalgam of fantasy and psychological unwinding in a middle grade novel. Sam and her older sister Caitlyn have been sent away from their home in LA to live with their aunt in Oregon because of their father's dangerously bad, unpredictable temper. But although Sam is still living with the trauma of that abuse, she also longs beyond anything to return to the only home she knows. Her aunt gives her a game of cards, the Game of Fox and Squirrels, and she meets the wicked, fascinating Fox in his swaggering boots, who promises her a Golden Acorn that will send her home, and also the squirrels, dressed in tiny costumes, who may or may not be allies and friends. Are they real or not? Unclear. The brilliance of the book is that it allows us to see domestic abuse through the lens of the game.