Turtle in paradise

Review by Booklist Review

*Starred Review* Eleven-year-old Turtle is not one to suffer fools gladly. And she runs into a lot of fools, especially the no-goods her starry-eyed mother meets. So it's a tough little Turtle who arrives in Key West in June of 1935. She's been sent to Florida to stay with relatives because her mother's latest housekeeping job doesn't allow children. Unfortunately, Mama has neglected to tell Aunt Minnie she's coming, and Turtle gets the stink eye from cousins with monikers like Buddy and Beans. As Turtle soon learns, everything is different in Key West, from the fruit hanging on trees to the scorpions in nightgowns to the ways kids earn money. She can't be part of her cousins' Diaper Gang (no girls allowed), which takes care of fussy babies, but when she finds a treasure map, she hopes she'll be on Easy Street like Little Orphan Annie. Holm uses family stories as the basis for this tale, part romp, part steely-eyed look at the Depression era. Reminiscent of Addie in the movie Paper Moon, Turtle is just the right mixture of knowingness and hope; the plot is a hilarious blend of family dramas seasoned with a dollop of adventure. The many references to 1930s entertainments (Terry and the Pirates, Shirley Temple) will mostly go over kids' heads, but they'll get how much comics and movies meant to a population desperate for smiles. An author's note (with photos) shows Holm's family close-up.--Cooper, Ilene Copyright 2010 Booklist

From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.

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Review by Publisher's Weekly Review

Turtle, the witty 11-year-old narrator of this standout historical novel, is a straight shooter: "Everyone thinks children are sweet as Necco Wafers, but I've lived long enough to know the truth: kids are rotten." When her romantic and unrealistic mother, who's always falling in and out of love, gets a housekeeping job that won't allow children, she sends Turtle to her estranged family in Depression-era Key West. Though her mother hails Key West as paradise, Turtle initially think it's a dump ("Truth is, the place looks like a broken chair that's been left out in the sun to rot"). Two-time Newbery Honor author Holm again crafts a winning heroine who, despite her hardened exterior, gradually warms to her eccentric family members, including her unruly cousins and waspish grandmother (who Turtle thought was dead). Infused with period pop culture references, a strong sense of place, and the unique traditions and culture of Key West natives (aka "Conchs"), this humorous adventure effectively portrays Turtle as caught between her mother's Hollywood-inspired dreams and the very real family and geography that offer a different kind of paradise. Ages 8-12. (May) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved

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Review by School Library Journal Review

Gr 3-6-Set in 1935, 11-year-old Turtle is sent off to her aunt in the Florida Keys when her mother gets a job in New Jersey as a live-in housekeeper for a woman who doesn't like children. Turtle's mother is a dreamer who pins her hopes on every new man she meets and, as each one disappears, Turtle becomes more of a pragmatist. Ever adaptable, she works to fit in with her wacky boy cousins (reminiscent of The Little Rascals but called The Diaper Gang) and all the colorful characters she finds in the small community of Key West. Along the way she discovers a grandmother she did not know existed and, through her, a pirate's treasure. The book (Random, 2010) was inspired by Jennifer Holmes's great-grandmother's stories. Narrator Becca Battoe perfectly portrays Turtle and distinctly voices the entire cast of characters. Listeners get a perfect sense of Florida's heat, the ennui of the kids, and the laid back community struggling through the Depression. This audiobook brings a whole new dimension to an already splendid novel.-Joan Kindig, James Madison University, Harrisburg, VA (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.

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Review by Horn Book Review

Narrator Turtle's voice is tart and world-weary, and she is under no illusions about her own kind, declaring, "Kids are rotten." It's 1935, and when her housekeeper mother's new job doesn't allow children, she is sent to live with her aunt in Key West, where everyone goes without shoes and is called by a nickname like Pork Chop or Slow Poke. With her stoic nature and her quick wits, Turtle is able to fit in with her boy cousins and their friends (though they won't let her help with their Diaper Gang babysitting business), and she even manages to outmaneuver the elderly woman she is sent to feed who keeps knocking her food to the floor. The episodic novel includes details, events, and figures from history (including those from Holm's own family), and Turtle's narrative is peppered with references from the time, as she compares herself to Little Orphan Annie and gladly avoids going to a Shirley Temple movie. Modern-day readers will have no trouble relating to Turtle, though, and the fast-moving plot will keep them interested to the end. From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

(c) Copyright The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

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Everyone thinks children are sweet as Necco Wafers, but I've lived long enough to know the truth: kids are rotten. The only difference between grown-ups and kids is that grown-ups go to jail for murder. Kids get away with it.   I stare out the window as Mr. Edgit's Ford Model A rumbles along the road, kicking up clouds of dust. It's so hot that the backs of my legs feel like melted gum, only stickier. We've been driving for days now; it feels like eternity.   In front of us is a rusty pickup truck with a gang of dirty-looking kids in the back sandwiched between furniture--an iron bed, a rocking chair, battered pots--all tied up with little bits of fraying rope like a spiderweb. A girl my age is holding a baby that's got a pair of ladies' bloomers tied on its head to keep the sun out of its eyes. The boy sitting next to her has a gap between his two front teeth. Not that this stops him from blowing spitballs at us through a straw. We've been stuck behind this truckfor the last few miles, and our windshield is covered with wadded bits of wet newspaper. A spitball smacks the window and Mr. Edgit hammers the horn with the palm of his hand. The no-good boy just laughs and sticks out his tongue.   "There oughta be a law. No wonder this country's going to the dogs," Mr. Edgit grumbles.   Mr. Edgit ("You can call me Lyle") has a lot of opinions. He says folks in the Dust Bowl wouldn't be having so much trouble if they'd just move near some water. He says he doesn't think President Roosevelt will get us out of this Depression and that if you give someone money for not working why would they ever bother to get a job? But mostly Mr. Edgit talks about a new hair serum he's selling that's going to make him rich. It's called Hair Today, and he's a believer. He's used the product himself.   "Can you see the new hair, Turtle?" he asks, pointing at his shiny bald head.   I don't see anything. It must grow invisible hair.   Maybe Archie should start selling hair serum. If his pal Mr. Edgit's anything to go by, most men would rather have hair than be smart. Archie's a traveling salesman. He's sold everything--brushes, gadgets, Bibles, you name it. Right now he's peddling encyclopedias.   "I could sell a trap to a mouse," Archie likes to say, and it's the truth. Housewives can't resist him. I know Mama couldn't.   It was last May, one day after my tenth birthday, when I opened the door of Mrs. Grant's house and saw Archie standing there. He had dark brown eyes and thick black hair brushed back with lemon pomade.   "Well, hello there," Archie said to me, tipping his Panama hat. "Is the lady of the house at home?"   "Which lady?" I asked. "The ugly one or the pretty one?"   He laughed. "Why, ain't you a sweet little thing."   "I'm not sweet," I said. "I slugged Ronald Caruthers when he tried to throw my cat in the well, and I'd do it again."   Archie roared with laughter. "I'll bet you would! What's your name, princess?"   "Turtle," I said.   "Turtle, huh?" he mused, stroking his chin. "I can see why. Got a little snap to you, don't ya?"   "Who's that you're talking to, Turtle?" my mother called, coming to the door.   Archie smiled at Mama. "You must be the pretty lady."   Mama put her hand over her heart. Otherwise it would have leaped right out of her chest. She fell so hard for Archie she left a dent in the floor.   Mama's always falling in love, and the fellas she picks are like dandelions. One day they're there, bright as sunshine--charming Mama, buying me presents--and the next they're gone, scattered to the wind, leaving weeds everywhere and Mama crying.   But Mama says Archie's different, and I'm starting to think she may be right. He keeps his promises, and he hasn't disappeared yet. Even Smokey likes him, which is saying something, considering she bit the last fella Mama dated. Also, he's got big dreams,which is more than I can say for most of them.   "Mark my words, princess," Archie told me. "We'll be living on Easy Street someday."   Excerpted from Turtle in Paradise by Jennifer L. Holm All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

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