Review by New York Times Review
RULE No. 1: Life is not fair. At least if you live inside a Meg Cabot novel it isn't. And sometimes it's SO not fair, you can't BELIEVE how unfair it is. AT ALL. Meg Cabot, chronic capitalizer and reigning grande dame of teenage chick lit, has too many best-selling series to keep track of - there's the reluctant princess in the "Princess Diaries" books, the reluctant communicator with the dead in "The Mediator," the reluctant national hero in "All-American Girl," and so on (at last count Cabot, at age 41, has 54 books out, a handful of them geared for grown-up girls). As far-ranging as her concepts may be, they all introduce some life-changing event then circle back to the supreme "I want my normal life back" injustice of it all. Cabot's books are quick-paced romps that take one night to read and, apparently, not much longer to write. In addition to regularly updating her blog with detailed posts, she has said in interviews that she writes five to 10 pages a day, turning out roughly a book a month. More unbelievable, though, is that the work holds up. While legions of Meg Cabot imitators get waylaid by brand-name this and "Oh my God" that, Cabot's voice remains fresh. She favors the spill-the-beans-as-you-go style common to teenage fiction, but her material has a spirited fizz that's lacking in many so-called young adult comedies. Makes sense, then, that she's trying her hand at books for younger readers. In the first installment of "Allie Finkle's Rules for Girls," her new middle-grade series for Scholastic Press, Cabot has dialed back her tic of randomly capitalizing every fourth word (she's switched over to italics), the boy-craziness and the out-there premises. The only wild thing happening to 9-year-old Allie Finkle is her parents' decision to move from their perfectly nice new house in the suburbs to a Victorian fixer-upper that "looked very big and creepy sitting there on the street. All the windows - and there were a lot of them - were dark and sort of looked like eyes staring down at us." Worse still, Allie's going to have to leave behind her slightly, annoying best friend, Mary Kay Shiner; her geode collection; and her cozy elementary school. It's up to Allie, an aspiring Veterinarian who's not above burping or smashing the occasional cupcake in a deserving classmate's face, to figure out a way to win the war against moving across town. To keep herself grounded in this ever-befuddling world, Allie has started writing down the rules for everything. Not the rules for science and math, which she gets. But the protocol for life's more elusive bits. "There are no rules, for instance, for friendship. I mean, besides the one about Treat your friends the way you'd want them to treat you, which I've already broken about a million times." Allie's newly learned rules, like "Don't stick a spatula down your best friend's throat" and "Don't put your cat in a suitcase," serve as the book's chapter titles, and the cheerful yellow and salmon book jacket opens up, Adventcalendar style, to reveal lines where readers are encouraged to write their own rules. WITH nothing but these rules serving as the book's gimmick, the story has a looser feel than a typical Cabot novel. The structure suits this age group, mirroring the timewarp experience of childhood itself. One minute Allie is playing dollhouse with a friend ("I suggested that the baby doll get kidnapped and a ransom note, including the baby doll's cut-off ear, get sent to the house by the glass dolphin family") and the next she's fantasizing about what awaits her in the attic of her new house ("The disembodied hand had lived in the attic in that movie I had seen! ... Green, glowing and so scary!"). The tale hums along entertainingly, then takes an unexpected turn when our heroine finds herself on a disastrous play date. Mary Kay Shiner and Brittany Hauser show Allie what their game "lady business executive" entails (hint: it has to do with the "Don't put your cat in a suitcase" rule). Allie handles the situation with aplomb, and her moxie only increases a few scenes later, at the Lung Chung restaurant, where she comes to the aid of an imperiled snapping turtle named Wang Ba. Though its tone is slightly younger than Cabot's books for teenagers, "Moving Day" still brims with vintage Cabot humor and inventiveness. There's the heroine's absurd swirl of know-it-all-ness and cluelessness ("I am older than Mary Kay by a month. Possibly this is why I don't cry as often as she does, because I am more mature. Also, I am more used to hardship, not being an only child") and the droll details that are effortlessly tossed off, like the little brother who dreams of having a bedroom with velvet wallpaper and the boy who gives Mary Kay this charming birthday card: "Too bad Allie's moving, now you'll have no friends at all Happy Birthday!" Cabot is under contract with Scholastic for five more books in the series, though it's unlikely the franchise will stop there. This is an author who can write sequels in her sleep. That's not a rule. More like a law of nature. 'Too bad Allie's moving, now you'll have no friends at all. Happy Birthday!' Lauren Mechling is the author of the novel "Dream Girl," which will be published in July.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [October 27, 2009]
Review by Booklist Review
In this light, charming retelling of Andersen's classic fairy tale, Ensor focuses on Thumbelina's engagements, with an alternative ending that many girls will relish. Ensor allows modern sensibilities to peek through as she embroiders the original tale. The witch who gives Thumbelina's mother the seed from which Thumbelina is born sounds like Anne Marie's high-school math teacher. The epilogue tartly informs readers, Now you know exactly what happened and can write a book report, if you need to do that, or count this as part of your summer reading list. The expanded dialogues work well: the toads are especially fun, and direct comments and questions to the reader are engaging and effective. The strong feminist perspective will delight young readers, who may have been puzzled by Thumbelina's passivity in the original version, and the story also encourages empathy for individuals whose options are narrowed by their particular environment, culture, or history. Black-and-white paper-cut illustrations, like those Andersen himself made, and Thumbelina's diary entries round out this slight but satisfying addition to the retold fairy-tale genre.--Carton, Debbie Copyright 2008 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by School Library Journal Review
Gr 3-5-In this retelling, Hans Christian Andersen's original tale gets a little padding, some reinterpretation, and a format makeover into an early chapter book. The changes include expanding the role of Thumbelina's mother, making Thumbelina a bit more assertive, assigning the mouse a case of unrequited love, and adding an epilogue with an alternate ending. The basics, including Thumbelina's adventures and suitors, remain the same, even retaining language alluding to Denmark and references that create a historical context (e.g., mention of a dowry). Old-fashioned-looking black-and-white silhouettes break up the text. Neither the caliber of the writing nor the illustrations make this an essential purchase. The novel format may tempt fairy and princess fans who have moved on to longer fiction. Otherwise, libraries that own good versions of the tale, such as Lauren Mills's Thumbelina (Little, Brown, 2005), could pass on this one.-Faith Brautigam, Gail Borden Public Library, Elgin, IL (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
(c) Copyright Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Horn Book Review
Ensor stays close to Andersen's plot; it's her contemporary sensibility and looser, less pungent style that differ most from his narrative. Her tinkerings with motivation are also of interest; in an epilogue, Thumbelina jilts her tiny prince. Small trim size, big type, and ample white space and silhouette illustrations (a tribute to Andersen's scissor-snipped art) will attract readers. (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Review by Kirkus Book Review
It all begins when a young woman decides she wants a baby enough to visit a witch. After paying a fee, Anne Marie goes home with a seed that quickly grows and blossoms to reveal a tiny girl. Thumbelina grows up sheltered, loved and well-cared for, but full of curiosity about the outside world. She records her frustrations in her diary and begs her mother to let her sleep outside. Finally her mother agrees, but after a night spent playing tag with fireflies, the slumbering Thumbelina is kidnapped by a frog looking for a daughter-in-law. She escapes this fate with some effort and embarks on her own journey down the unfamiliar river. This fleshed-out version of the Andersen tale is faithful to the original and has a charming, old-fashioned tone that lovers of fairy tales will undoubtedly embrace. Crisp silhouettes appear as spot illustrations and hand-lettered diary entries alternate with the conventional text throughout, lending an air of timelessness. (Fiction. 7-10) Copyright ©Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Copyright (c) Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
