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Welcome to another edition of Stories About Girls! As I've mentioned before, my goal with these isn't just to give you stories for girls but to make some lists of great books for boys and girls that happen to have girls as main characters. They're meant to supplement the long lists of great books (for both genders) that have boys as main characters, which tends to be a pretty long list.
On this list I've got some very old books and some very new ones; there are a few more comic books to choose from this time. If you've got younger kids be sure to check out my previous Picture Book Edition. This list has a few more for teens and young adults, though not exclusively so. (Also, click here for Part 1 and Part 2 if you missed them.)
Alice's Adventures in Wonderland by Lewis Carroll
Can there be any doubt that Lewis Carroll was a geek? (Perhaps more accurately—he's the sort of person who, if he were alive today, we would certainly call a geek.) He loved math problems, logic puzzles and wordplay, and incorporated them into his stories and poems. Alice's Adventures in Wonderland has taken on many forms since its publication in 1865—including over twenty film and TV adaptations, comic books and even video games—but if you haven't read the original you should definitely pick it up. You really have no excuse—it's in the public domain and can be had for free at a number of places, including Project Gutenberg or the free Kindle edition.
Alice doesn't always make the right choices—and indeed makes very wrong choices some of the times—but she's still a great character who tries to think for herself despite being thrust into this world where the regular rules don't apply and everything is topsy-turvy. I think most of us think of Alice as a book for little kids, but when reading it to my daughter I was reminded of how sophisticated much of the humor is, and it may be best appreciated by older kids (who probably think they're too old for it).
If you're looking for a hard copy of the book, there's a huge selection to choose from. I actually own two, one that is annotated and has the original illustrations by John Tenniel. The other (pictured here) is illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger with her wonderful, somewhat understated watercolors. And though you can't buy a book yet with Meg Hunt's illustrations (seen at the very top of this post), you can visit the Picture Book Report to see more of her take on this classic of children's literature.
Target age: 7-10
The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip by George Saunders (illustrated by Lane Smith)
Giant semi-sentient burrs that crawl out of the sea and stick to goats. A widower who will only eat white food. Two brothers who can't really sing, two sisters who are entirely too concerned about what boys think and one little girl named Capable who lives up to her name when nobody else will help. That's just a little bit of what you'll find in George Saunders' silly-but-profound fable, with spot-on illustrations by the talented Lane Smith. Click here for my full review.
Target age: 7-12
Zita the Spacegirl by Ben Hatke
Zita the Spacegirl is brand-spanking-new, the first full-length graphic novel from Ben Hatke, who has published stories (some also featuring Zita) in the Flight anthologies. Zita is a spunky little girl who ends up transported to another world through a portal—and this new world is filled with all sorts of fantastic creatures, excitement and adventure. Read my full review.
Target age: 8-12
Inkheart trilogy by Cornelia Funke
Anyone who loves the magic of reading out loud should check out Cornelia Funke's Inkheart trilogy. Meg and her father Mo have a rare gift: the ability to read characters and things out of books into the real world. But long ago, when Meg was only three, Mo read a book called Inkheart and released a trio of characters into the world: the villain Capricorn (whose heart was as dark as ink), his knife-wielding henchman Basta and the firebreather Dustfinger. Now Meg is twelve, and Dustfinger has turned up in their lives again, much to Mo's dismay. It's a wonderful trilogy about the magic of storytelling and the love of books. Click here for my full review.
Target age: middle grades
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
Do you like your stories with a nice big side of creepy? Then Coraline may be right up your alley. Coraline lives with her parents in a big rambling house (with some other odd tenants in the other flats). One day she discovers a door into a parallel world, where her Other Mother and Other Father seem like much more fun, other than the buttons they sport for eyes. You've got a couple choices here—the original novel with illustrations by Dave McKean, a graphic novel version illustrated by P. Craig Russell and Henry Selick's stop-motion movie. Click here for a full review.
Target age: middle grades and up (Note: might be a bit creepy for some kids)
Princess Novels by Jim C. Hines
For fans of remixed fairy tales, Jim Hines' Princess series may be worth checking out. Starting with The Stepsister Scheme, Hines takes various traditional fairy tale characters (Sleeping Beauty, Cinderella, Snow White) and recasts them as "blade-wielding, magic-using lead-don’t-follow heroines." Check out John Booth's full review from last summer.
Target age: teens
The Hunger Games trilogy by Suzanne Collins
If you haven't heard of Katniss Everdeen and the Hunger Games, you probably haven't been in a bookstore in a while. The first book in the trilogy was published in 2008, and since then it has taken the Young Adult world by storm, with a movie adaptation expected to come next year. It's a dystopian future story in which teens are sent from various districts to participate in the Hunger Games, a televised deathmatch. While it is marketed as a young adult series, many adults have been sucked into these books as well, including our own John Booth. Check out his full review here.
Target age: teens
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
Set in Germany during World War II, The Book Thief is a fascinating story about death, words, a little girl and a Jewish fist fighter hidden in a basement. It is an oddly-written book (for one, it's narrated by Death) but is a powerful story that will stay with you for a while. It's a book that is marketed as a young adult novel but would hold its own against much of the better adult fiction I've read as well. Zusak makes use of interesting typographical methods and Death makes for a fascinating narrator, but the title character Liesel Meninger is the key to unlocking the story. Click here for a full review.
Target age: young adult
Buffy the Vampire Slayer: Tales by various authors and illustrators
This is a new hardcover collection that includes a mix of older stories and more recent ones, set in the Buffyverse but, for the most part, not featuring Buffy herself. There's a section about various Slayers throughout history, and then a longer section called Tales of the Vampires which takes a closer look at the vampires themselves, from their point of view. While not all of the stories are about female main characters, the section on Slayers of course features several strong girls and women, and the section on vampires is a mixture of both. The content is similar to what was in the TV show, so it's best for high schoolers and up. I wrote a full review last month on Buffy's birthday.
Target age: teens and up
Moving Pictures by Kathryn & Stuart Immonen
I debated whether or not to include Moving Pictures on this list—after all, there are scores of other books that are ripe for inclusion, and this one is definitely not for younger readers—not necessarily because of the content but because of the reading level. Ila Gardner is a curator working in France during World War II, trying to hide artwork from the German Military Art Commission. It's a story told from several different angles, and the Immonens don't spell everything out for you, but it's a gorgeous graphic novel about artwork, war and dangerous relationships. Click here for my full review.
Target age: teens and up
The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip by George Saunders (illustrated by Lane Smith)
I found this years ago at a going-out-of-business sale—the bizarre title caught my eye, as did the translucent dust jacket with the weird, googly-eyed orange hairball on it, and the over-tall format. I hadn't read much by George Saunders but I was a fan of Lane Smith's art, so I picked it up and flipped through it. It's a kids' book, sort of. It has a lot more words in it (and at 84 pages is much longer) than a typical picture book, but it has a lot more pictures (and is much shorter) than, say, a chapter book. It's a story that feels like a fable, appropriate for kids but enjoyable for adults.
Frip is a strange little town with an unusual problem: gappers. Gappers kind of like a big burr, "about the size of a baseball, bright orange, with multiple eyes like the eyes on a potato." And they also love to stick to goats—and when they find one and stick to it, they're so pleased that they shriek, which then makes it impossible for the goats to sleep or rest or produce milk. So in the town of Frip (which raises goats) the children have an unenviable job: gapper-brushing. They brush the gappers off, put them in gapper sacks and dump them in the sea, from whence the gappers inch their way back to the goats.
The main character is a little girl named Capable who has problems to deal with aside from the gappers. Her father hasn't been the same since her mother died and is incapable of dealing with change. Not only that, but her house is the closest to the sea and eventually the gappers discover that they don't have to go quite as far if they just stick to Capable's goats.
I won't spoil the rest of the story, but I can tell you this much: the other two families in Frip (who have two kids each) are, as in many fairy tales, unhelpful and unsympathetic. They come up with excuses for why they can't help Capable, and when they fall into their own misfortunes, deal with it in unproductive ways. Capable, on the other hand, lives up to her name and is an excellent example of resourcefulness, compassion and responsibility.
And, as with most fairy tales, things do work out in the end. Unlike most fairy tales, though, this book is hilarious. Saunders writes about absurd people and absurd things (like gappers) in a matter-of-fact tone, and Smith's illustrations are wonderful. From the gloomy seaside town of Frip to the various townsfolk to the poor, put-upon goats, the illustrations are a treat for the eyes and are a perfect accompaniment to Saunders' surreal tale.
Although I've rated this book for ages "7-12," it's really probably an all ages book. Younger kids will need somebody to read it to them but will enjoy the pictures, of which there are plenty. Older kids and adults will get more of the jokes and the satire.
Zita the Spacegirl by Ben Hatke
Zita and her friend Joseph are playing out in a field when they discover a meteorite which contains a funny little device with a button. It opens a portal, and Joseph is immediately dragged in by some long tentacles—so then Zita hops in after him. That's how the story starts, and from there it's a wonderful ride through a world filled with colorful (both literally and figuratively) characters. Weird gnomish guys who live inside water pipes, a crotchety taskmaster who floats along with no legs, a big golem-like creature, a giant sentient rat and lots of robots. Oh, and there's a funny little battle orb named One (the red and gray guy on the cover) who reminds me a bit of the robots from The Black Hole.
Zita the Spacegirl is a joy to read. Zita is brave and clever, but also relies on the friends that she makes in this bizarre new world. The plot—finding Joseph and rescuing him from his kidnappers—is exciting and the ending was not what I was expecting, but the best part of the book is just poring over the all the creatures and details that Hatke puts into the world. He's got a real knack for making up aliens and you'll find yourself wanting more when you finish the book.
Speaking of Hatke, he's a bit of a geek dad himself. He's got "an unruly pack of daughters" who both inspire him and interfere with his work—but based on Zita the Spacegirl he's done quite well working while they run around him. He wrote a great little article talking about making comics at home while surrounded by his kids (who are homeschooled).
If you've got kids who like science fiction and comics, Zita the Spacegirl is a good mix of action and humor. (Note: there is a good bit of cartoon violence, maybe a little less than, say, Star Wars.) For a preview of Hatke's style, check out the Zita webcomics on his site.
Note: I received a review copy of Zita the Spacegirl from First Second Books.
Inkheart trilogy by Cornelia Funke
Have you ever wished that a story could become real? That a beloved character from a book could actually be alive, somebody to talk to and interact with and go on adventures with? Or maybe you've wished the opposite—that you could jump into the pages of your favorite story and explore the world created by an imaginative author.
Those are the themes of Cornelia Funke's Inkheart trilogy, which display a deep love for books and storytelling, but also warn that those wishes might not turn out as pleasant as you wish. Mo Folchart is a bookbinder, and his talent for creating and repairing books is almost magical. But what is magical is his voice: when he reads aloud, people and objects from the stories come to life in the real world. But he hasn't read anything aloud since his daughter Meg was three years old. That was when, while reading from a book called Inkheart, Mo read out three of the characters—and read his wife Reesa into the book.
Now, Meg is twelve. She and Mo have a very close relationship but much of this past is unknown to her. But then the characters from Inkheart begin to reappear in their lives—the villain Capricorn wants Mo to read treasure out of books for him. Dustfinger, a fire-breather, just wants to go back home. Along the way they encounter characters from other books, Meg's book-collecting great-aunt Elinor and even the author of Inkheart, Fenoglio.
The trilogy takes place partly in our world and partly in the world of Inkheart, as some of the characters eventually make their way into this fictional world of monsters and fairies and magic. Fenoglio turns out to be an arrogant old man, so proud of his work that he fails to see the danger in the evil that he's created. And Meg grows up, inheriting her dad's skill and discovering romance for herself.
It's a fantastic journey and my wife and I read the whole trilogy out loud to each other (though nobody magically appeared—for good or ill) and I'm eager to share it with our daughters when they're old enough. While Meg doesn't always make the most wise decisions (she's an impulsive and fiery young girl) it does make for some wonderful adventures. Personally I didn't care as much for the romantic subplot running through the second and third books, but Funke explains that that part of the story was expanded at the request of her own daughter.
For anyone who loves books and stories, I heartily recommend Inkheart. The epigraphs at the beginning of each chapter show Funke's own love of reading, and will have you adding to your reading list as you go.
Coraline by Neil Gaiman
I mentioned Neil Gaiman and Dave McKean in my Picture Book list for The Wolves in the Walls, but they also teamed up for a kids' novel in 2002. Coraline is a little bit like an Alice in Wonderland, but with an extra helping of creepy. Coraline (not Caroline, mind you) is a young girl who has recently moved into a big house with her parents. There are other tenants in the rest of the house, like the crazy old man in the attic with the trained mouse circus, and the former actresses Miss Spink and Miss Forcible who live in the flat below Coraline's.
What's really interesting about the old house, though, is the door in the drawing room that opens onto nothing but a brick wall—probably bricked up when the house was divided up into flats, Coraline's mother explains. Except one day when Coraline opens the door, there isn't a brick wall—instead there's a passage to a mirror world, with a much more attentive father and a mother who cooks delicious meals and a room filled with fantastic toys and books. Oh, and some eerie singing rats. And also the other people she meets there have buttons for eyes—and if you don't think that's creepy that's just because you haven't seen what McKean can do with buttons.
Without giving away too much, Coraline eventually finds herself needing to go back to the mirror world to rescue her parents, and it becomes more and more clear that it's not all fun and games on the other side of the passage.
The graphic novel adaptation, published in 2008, is quite well done. P. Craig Russell illustrated some of the stories in the Sandman series and I've always enjoyed his style, which calls to mind old fairy tale illustrations, mostly realistic drawings. But it's also hard to pass up Dave McKean's illustrations—he stresses the grotesque more than the realism, and his drawings are often scarier for it. I actually own both versions and it's hard to say which I like better.
And, of course, Coraline was made into a stop-motion animated film in 2009 by director Henry Selick. It was nominated for (but didn't win) the Best Animated Feature, and mostly got great reviews. But really you should read the book first.
The Book Thief by Markus Zusak
I read The Book Thief back in 2009. For various reasons, it took me a long time to finish it; at 550 pages, it's not a short read, but I spent much longer with it than usual. That's not necessarily a bad thing, though, because it allowed the book to really sink in, and it's certainly worth it to let this one sink in a little.
The story takes place in Germany during World War II and, curiously, is narrated by Death (who is, of course, fairly busy around this time in history). It allows for the omniscient narrator, but with its own distinctive personality. Death interrupts the story frequently with comments and asides, bold-faced and highlighted with asterisks:
Liesel Meminger, the titular book thief, was sent to live with foster parents, Hans and Rosa Hubermann. Hans, soft-spoken and silver-eyed, played the accordion and taught Liesel to roll cigarettes. Rosa: squat and spiteful, calling everyone Saumensch and Saukerl ("pigs") and always ready to give Liesel a good hiding. It takes a while for Liesel to grow accustomed to her new home, but eventually a sort of balance is struck. And then everything is thrown off-balance again at the arrival of Max Vandenburg, the Jewish son of a man who once saved Hans's life. The Hubermanns make the difficult decision to hide Max in their basement, while trying to keep up appearances as patriotic German citizens.
Throughout all of this, Liesel discovers a love of reading and begins stealing books: one at a snowy cemetery, one from a fire, and then more. The books divide her life into chapters, each significant for their own reasons.
The story is told with a lot of foreshadowing and flashbacks; and because it's historical fiction, you enter the story with a feeling of dread for everyone involved. But even in the middle of the war, there are moments of unexpected beauty and friendship, and Zusak wonderfully demonstrates the power of words for both good and ill. It's a poignant portrayal of the dilemma many Germans faced: what if you didn't agree with the Fuhrer?
Without giving away too much, this is historical fiction that is anything but dry. Like I said, it's a book that isn't an easy read, but it's entirely worth the effort.
Moving Pictures by Kathryn & Stuart Immonen
What strikes you at first about Moving Pictures is the graphic quality of the illustrations. Everything is in black and white, with a lot of shadows and silhouettes and even panels that are entirely black. There are long sequences without dialogue; sometimes during a conversation there are pregnant pauses which convey meaning without any words at all. You get the impression of watching a movie, with shots that establish the scene or set the mood, intimate conversations between two people, cutting back and forth between the present and the past.
Ila Gardner is in France during the Second World War. Here she is, being questioned by the German officer Rolf Hauptmann about the location of various pieces of artwork. Here she is, at a different time, talking with a friend about getting out of France before it's too late. Here she is, cataloging artwork in the catacombs beneath the museum. Here she is with Rolf, apparently after a romantic evening together.
As the story leaps backward and forward in time, you get a fuller picture of who Ila is, but the Immonens rarely just spell anything out for you. The people talk like real people, not like actors reading from a script, and there are hesitations and half-finished sentences. There's a world of meaning in things that aren't said. While it's historical fiction based on actual events during the war, Moving Pictures focuses on Ila and what drives her, the difficult decisions that she must make.
I really liked the drawing and the storyline, though it's not an easy one to follow. It's a little bit artsy—like a black and white art film that doesn't tie up all the loose ends but instead forces you to think a bit about what's going on. It's certainly not a book for lazy readers but the Immonens have captured the atmosphere with a few deft strokes of the pen and careful selection of scenes and dialogue.
If you're interested in a graphic novel that doesn't spell everything out for you, take a look at Moving Pictures.
Disclosure: Top Shelf Productions provided a review copy of this book.
