For her second novel, Where Monsters Lie, Polly Ho-Yen has made a brave and brilliant leap from the inner city tower blocks of her first novel, Boy in the Tower, to an imagined village on the shores of a Scottish loch where Effie lives with her parents and younger brother.
The village is small, claustrophobic. Everyone knows everyone; blood lines are knotted together and unbreakable, particularly if, like Effie, there are hints of being an outsider. The water is menacing and unfriendly. Keep away, the elders say. Keep away, so the legend goes, because there are monsters in the water.
Like her first book (reviewed here), Ho-Yen establishes a powerful, memorable setting – one which provides an intriguing canvas for her narrative to unfold. Continue reading
As a teacher, it’s my professional duty to make sure children can read and, once the mechanics of decoding are in place, to show them why reading matters. There are plenty of arguments to deploy, even for the most reluctant or disinterested of readers. Reading tells you things you didn’t know before. You will know more words and so be able to explain yourself better. You can travel the world and visit distant, unknown planets or stay close to home, all at the turn of the page. It’s fun – join the library, and it’s free. You’d me mad not to.
But, for me, reading matters most because it makes us better people. The grandest and most humane function of reading is to instil empathy in the reader, an understanding of the world from someone else’s point of view. It is in those moments when the written word means reality is seen in new ways, through another’s eyes; when the character becomes as real as the paper you are holding and in some way becomes part of you. This, I think, is what is most remarkable and what is most important about reading. The best writing can change you and make you quietly, subtly better at being who you are.
This is is certainly the case with Wonder by RJ Palacio, a book which tells the story of August Pullman, a boy born with a facial disfigurement, as he starts his first year at middle school. August has a face that is shocking in its deformity, so shocking that it is only partially described in the book and is revealed mostly by people’s reactions; they point, they stare, they whisper, they turn away, they say cruel, cutting words. But on August goes, into the world – gently cajoled by his parents from the cocoon of home. Continue reading