Review by New York Times Review
O Canada, must you be so wonderful? While our government is busy breaking up immigrant families and banishing innocent trans kids from school bathrooms, along comes this postcard from a progressive Eden to the north. So sorry, guys! Wish you were here! To be fair, even in Toronto the family at the center of Emma Donoghue's "The Lotterys Plus One" is exceptional. "Once upon a time," reads the prologue to Donoghue's delightful new middle-grade novel, "a man from Delhi and a man from Yukon fell in love, and so did a woman from Jamaica and a Mohawk woman." As if in a modern-day fairy tale, the four friends win the lottery, and go on to co-parent seven children in a rambling old mansion known as Camelottery. To call this family diverse is an understatement bordering on euphemism. All named after trees, the Lottery kids are a multicultural, multicolored crew, each with a distinct set of issues. There is, for example, Aspen, a 10-year-old with an attention disorder; Oak, a baby with developmental challenges; and Brian, nee Briar, a trans (so far) 4-year-old. To say nothing of the frightening pet rat, the introverted cat, the three-legged dog or the rescue parrot. Donoghue is the author, most famously, of "Room," the claustrophobic best seller for grown-ups about an imprisoned mother and son. While her new book, her first for children, could hardly be more of a departure, fans will recognize not only her gift for representing a child's point of view, but also her knack for showing how a family, no matter how small or large, develops its own language, even its own culture. At Camelottery, decisions are made democratically in family "fleetings." During "one-on-ones" with their parents, the home-schooled kids study things like Haudenosaunee long houses or how the art of weaving led to the invention of computers. On their own they pursue "citizen science" projects like monitoring milkweed for a monarch butterfly program. And on their birthdays, they get letters from the other family members explaining just what makes them so lovable. If all this seems a little too good to be true, the novel's heroine, 9-year-old knowit-all Sumac, doesn't notice: She's preoccupied with her study of Mesopotamia. But inevitably, her family's bohemian bonhomie - and core liberal values - are tested. This test comes in the form of an extended visit from an estranged grandfather who is beginning to suffer from dementia. As it turns out, Canada has its own version of Trumpland; Grumps, as they call him, hails from a small town in Yukon, which used to have "the biggest open pit lead and zinc mine in the world," but now has "more moose than humans." Not surprisingly, he has trouble adjusting to life with the "hippy-dippy" Lotterys. To Donoghue's credit, Grumps is not the lovable curmudgeon one might expect. He is thoroughly unlikable, and we sympathize with Sumac's resentment when he takes over her bedroom. At the same time, even she admits he has a point when he complains about the family's "If it's yellow, let it mellow" policy. Or when he tsks tsks about "gadzillionaires" Dumpster diving for fun. As designated family ambassador, Sumac does her best to integrate her grandfather, but eventually must confront her own not-so-selfless desires. If the book ends on a reconciliatory note, it's only after bruising misbehavior on both sides. Unlike Grumps, most young readers will be amused by the pee-filled toilets. And no doubt they will revel in the independence of the Lottery children. I suspect, however, that some will be put off by the many names in the novel, and by all the brilliant family chatter, as fascinating as it is. (I for one did not know that female garter snakes form "mating balls" with up to 25 males.) I hope these readers will not toss the book away; it couldn't be better suited to a time when so many people are feeling tossed away themselves. I can only imagine what Donoghue's expansive vision of family would have meant to me when I was a lonely middle-school student wondering where I fit in. Or for that matter, when I was a newly out college student wondering whether I'd ever have a family of my own. Alas, aside from the two dads, the family I wound up with isn't exactly the Lotterys. I look forward to rereading this warm and funny book with my daughters, and hearing about how boring we are in comparison. ? RAPHAEL SIMON, also known as Pseudonymous Bosch, is the author of the Secret Series and the Bad Books.
Copyright (c) The New York Times Company [April 9, 2017]
Review by Booklist Review
Sumac Lottery's brother describes their family best: We're a raggle-taggle, multiculti crew. There are 11 of them living in their huge house (called CameLottery): two pairs of parents, PapaDam and PopCorn, and CardaMom and MaxiMom; and seven children, some biological, some adopted. Though it's hectic, it's friendly and comfortable, until PopCorn's father, a grizzled old-fashioned man they secretly call Grumps, comes to live with them. The frenetic chaos of a whimsical, highly untraditional family of 11 could quickly get unbearably cutesy, but Donoghue manages to keep its feet on the ground through stalwart Sumac's precocious observations. When Grumps arrives, it's empathetic Sumac who seems most affected, and she worries that what's best for the Lotterys might not be what's best for Grumps. Through all the colorful jumble of CameLottery, the family's idiosyncratic portmanteaus, and the individualistic lifestyles, Donoghue zeroes in on the vivid, dynamic characters, who patiently and supportively deal with realistic conflicts and accommodate, sometimes reluctantly, different perspectives. This openhearted novel demonstrates that, even if a family looks unusual to some, love and acceptance is universal.--Hunter, Sarah Copyright 2017 Booklist
From Booklist, Copyright (c) American Library Association. Used with permission.
Review by Publisher's Weekly Review
One of the most diverse families readers are likely to meet, the Lotterys-whose name was inspired by the winning lottery ticket that made a dream for a family come true-are four longtime friends turned coparents (a lesbian couple and a gay one) and seven homeschooled children of various racial backgrounds, quirks, and talents. The family enjoys a harmoniously unconventional existence in its 32-room Toronto mansion until the estranged father of one of the Lottery parents arrives for a visit of undetermined length. The change in dynamics caused by the elderly man's stubbornness and conservatism is especially hard on nine-year-old Sumac, who is assigned to be his personal guide. In a drily funny story about adjusting to new situations, Donoghue (Room) vividly captures the Lotterys' chaotic but always loving home through a flurry of inside jokes, banter, and nicknames. If some readers have difficulty keeping the members of the large family straight, Hadilaksono's lively David Roberts-esque illustrations, not all seen by PW, provide a colorful guide to the Lotterys' wonderfully offbeat home. Ages 8-12. Author's agent: Kathleen Anderson, Anderson Literary. Illustrator's agent: Rebecca Sherman, Writers House. (Mar.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
(c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Review by School Library Journal Review
Gr 4-6-Sumac Lottery has a pretty sweet life. Four parents (in two loving couples), six siblings, five pets, and a big old house in Toronto. Her world is turned upside down when Grumps, an estranged grandparent, comes to stay. Grumps, who has dementia and is often disoriented, doesn't approve of anything he sees at the Lotterys' house, and Sumac doesn't approve of him one bit. Grumps is, well, grumpy and set in his somewhat bigoted ways, and the Lotterys are a lot to take in. Donoghue is the author of many acclaimed books for adults, and her first title for young readers is a kind of realistic fantasy, a warmhearted, deeply improbable, emotionally alert jumble of ancient Sumerian, lottery winnings, elaborate family rituals, gelato, and acceptance. Many issues are touched upon in this novel, including homeschooling, gender fluidity, and diverse cultural traditions; in Donoghue's capable hands, they are treated with a cheerful self-awareness that lends itself to a timely and funny reading experience. At its core, this is a classic family disruption story, complete with a slow approachment of understanding between the intruder and various family members, and an uplifting if imperfect conclusion. VERDICT An ideal option for "Penderwicks" fans, lovers of Ellen Airgood's Prairie Evers, and those who enjoy series about big, loving families.-Katya Schapiro, Brooklyn Public Library © Copyright 2017. 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.
