Showing posts with label Santa Claus. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Santa Claus. Show all posts

Saturday, December 3, 2016

Christmas Best by Diana Kizlauskas


Rating: WORTHY!

Here's an interesting story for young children with a Christmas flavor. Or is that just another way of saying it's a turkey? Just kidding. I thought this was nicely illustrated by the author, but it seemed to send a mixed message. In the end I decided to recommend it because it can be used a a really good teaching tool about choices and consequences.

It doesn't work too well on a tablet though - this book will be of more utility as a print book I think, but it's very short, so tree-abuse is limited. The reason it doesn't work well on a pad is that instead of individual pages, all of the "pages" in the book are offered as double-page images, so you can only see them as relatively small images unless you spread them with a finger and a thumb, which is a nuisance. If you turn your pad sideways, they can be seen as a double-page spread, but then they're quite small. They're legible at this size, but not ideal.

The story is about job satisfaction, so it's very relevant in this day and age. Written in scattershot verse, we read of five elves, none of which is very happy with their lot in life making toys for International Santa Corporation. Why Santa gets such good PR when he clearly is running a sweatshop and making extensive use of slave labor is a mystery to me. I detest the little dictator, but that's just me.

Anyway, I guess the elves work in Texas or some place which has the same labor laws because they just walk out, offering no notice and decided to try something new. Baking isn't their forte, so they migrate to being choristers, mail carriers, present wrappers, and so on, but they are so poor at doing these other jobs that they give up and return to Santa Corporation to resume their original employment.

This actually offers room for a great discussion with your kids about working and job satisfaction, and loyalty and job training, which no on seems to offer these guys and girls. Should we stay in our little world trapped by our limited perspective and our exemplary skills in a job which offers only broken dreams, or set forth upon a sea of jobs and by embracing, mend them?

What if we fail? Is it a failure to try something new even if it doesn't work out? Is it okay to return to the sorry world we left if there appears to be nothing better? Can we be happy with what dissatisfied us when we realize there's no hope for an alternative out there, or do we have to mesmerize ourselves into being happy even when we're not? I recommend this book for its bold exploration of elvish existentialism and charming artwork.


Sunday, January 26, 2014

Nick the Saint by Anthony Szpak





Title: Nick the Saint
Author: Anthony Szpak (has no website that I could easily find)
Publisher: Vincere Press
Rating: WARTY!


DISCLOSURE: Unlike the majority of reviews in this blog, I've neither bought this book nor borrowed it from the library. This is a "galley" copy ebook, supplied by Net Galley. I'm not receiving (nor will I expect to receive or accept) remuneration for this review.

This novel was rather odd to categorize. I started it thinking it was a young adult novel, but it began with a child, who turned into a young teen who ended up in prison and before you know it, ten years have passed and he's an adult. So no, not a YA novel! it purports to tell the true story of Santa Clause, aka Saint Nick, by garbing a New Your prison escapee in a fake white beard, a red, bullet-proof fireman's jacket, and riding on a rocket powered sled. Yeah, like that. I wasn't impressed.

Nick loses his parents to a drowning accident in 1869 New York City, and is "purloined" by a witness to the accident, Fergus, who has decided that child labor is the new black, so he wears them out in his factories and becomes rich. Nick, his supposedly adopted son works as slave labor in his factories. It's rather sad, but Nick's life is unremarkable until it's defined by Molly, a child his own (teen) age, who comes to the factory looking for work. She treats him like dirt, calling him "Rat-Boy" even as they supposedly fall in love and plan upon running away. They fail. Fergus, who was planning on marrying Molly as soon as she turned eighteen (why would a man like Fergus even wait that long?), discovers Molly and Nick in a tryst, and he accuses Nick not only of kidnapping, but also of attempted murder, and since Fergus has the police, the witnesses, the judge, and the jailers in his pocket, Nick is sent down for a life-long stretch on Rikers Island - at a time when the prison was new!

Molly tries to visit him but is told that he doesn't want to see her, and later that he's dead. A decade goes by and Nick manages to escape, conveniently hooking up with a total genius of an inventor, who Nick treats like trash until he realizes what utility he has. Nick is hardly a saint. No one in this novel is. Nick isn't very smart, and his leading impulse is continually towards violence. I don't like him. Neither do I like Molly who, when Nick looks her up after his escape, treats him like trash and rejects him. It's patently apparent that she's doing this because she has a child she fears losing to her husband Fergus if there were any dissent between them, but none of that excuses her appalling treatment of Nick. Having said that, surely this sorry couple definitely deserves one another?

Rather than move on, Nick decides to stick around and eventually, even he gets it into his stupid head that the best way to take down Fergus is to hit him hard in his money bags. Of course, this will hurt Molly, too, who has grown accustomed to living in luxury, but that's the price she will have to pay for not having the guts to run away from Fergus and instead, marry the lousy swine and have a child with him. I'm sorry but she's not heroic either.

Nick's friend Benny can do anything - he's the super hero of inventors, making mechanical walking dolls out of nothing in just a few minutes, making a bullet-proof coat out of a red fireman's jacket, making an airplane years before Gustav Weisskopf, ClĂ©ment Ader, Karl Jatho, or the Wright brothers ever did. But you know what? Benny makes more sense than does Molly. Nick gets shot and when Molly reads of it, thinking he's dead, she takes to her bed in grief. This is the same Molly who treated him like dirt a few days before! No. I don’t buy it. I don’t buy that the feisty self-possessed Molly of fourteen years of age, who had intelligent plans for her future, who supposedly loved Nick, has turned into the sell-out, loser Molly we meet after Nick gets out of prison, an inverse Molly who is to all intents and purposes happily married to a jerk who treats children like disposable diapers.

When Nick tries to contact Molly again, asking her for money, all she cares about is what happened to the children from the factories, and once she sees that they're being taken care of, her life suddenly turns around and it’s insta-love again? Where was this attitude for the last ten years as she lived with the very guy who was abusing these children en masse? I'm sorry, but suspension of disbelief just got suspended.

When Nick finally gets a real chance to talk to her, her excuse for not pursing finding out about him with more zest than she did, and for not trying to see him or help him is that Fergus threatened her with losing her child! Excuse me, but there was no child when Nick went to prison. There was no marriage. She whines about not being able to run and hide with a child in tow, but she sure as hell could have run and hid before she was married, before she jumped into Fergus's bed, before there was a child, when she was young and feisty and intent upon doing that very thing. Molly chose not to. She chose the easy way out. This girl who was introduced to us as a fierce, determined, and strong young woman simply bows down and knuckles under for no reason whatsoever except that it’s the road most taken. The bare fact is that she betrayed Nick, and everything that both she and they together stood for.

The story reaches absurdist proportions when Molly is summoned from her (and Fergus's) bed at midnight, and is expected to travel the dangerous and dark streets of New York City alone, for no better reason than to see a demo of Benny's latest invention - a rocket powered sled that flies. Yes, flies. Seriously? This was the point at which I called, "Check please, I'm outta here!" I really did not want to read any more of this novel; it's just too stupid for words and the characters are not even remotely endearing, much less believable. This novel is WARTY!