The Bone Sparrow

Starred review from October 3, 2016
Subhi hangs on his mother’s stories of her life in Burma as a Rohingya, a persecuted ethnic Muslim minority. Subhi’s Maá (mother) and his older sister were among the Rohingya exiled from their homeland and relegated to a detention center in Australia, where he was born. The 10-year-old’s imagination helps him survive in a refugee camp ruled by abusive guards as he watches Maá sink into catatonia and waits in vain for the arrival of his father, an outspoken poet. Australian author Fraillon crafts a harrowing vision of life in the detention center (shoes are rarities, rats and mold are rampant, children race lice for fun), yet Subhi finds solace in sensitively portrayed friendships with a rebellious older boy, a compassionate guard, and an intrepid girl named Jimmie who sneaks into the camp to hear Subhi read stories her late mother recorded in a notebook; though most of the story is told from Subhi’s first-person perspective, several third-person chapters focus on Jimmie’s life outside the camp. While addressing themes of loss, desperation, and injustice in an all-too-relevant setting, Fraillon’s resonant novel underscores the healing power of story. Ages 9–12. Agent: Claire Wilson, Rogers, Coleridge & White.

In the Australian detention camp where he was born and still lives, Subhi, 10, a Rohingya boy, shares a crowded tent with his mother, older sister, and other refugees and dreams of an unbounded world and the Night Sea. Stories feed Subhi's vivid imagination, especially the ones his mother tells of life back in Burma, but Maa rarely speaks now. Camp living conditions are dire: borderline inedible food, appalling sanitation, and the Jackets' inhumane treatment, which ranges from indifferent to cruel (kindly guard Harvey is the exception). Subhi helps his friend Eli trade valuable items among detainees until Eli is sent to live with the adult single men; then his companionship is limited to the Shakespeare duck, a rubber duck he keeps in his pocket to talk to--and who talks back in his portion of the narration. Near the camp, another child, Jimmie, also 10, lives with her father and brother. Jimmie treasures but can't yet read her deceased mother's notebook of stories. Following a (false) rumor that detained kids have bikes, Jimmie sneaks into the camp unnoticed. After meeting Subhi, who's happy to read the stories to her, she visits frequently, bringing hot chocolate and snacks. These easily accomplished visits don't square with the established gulaglike conditions and contradict the brutal realities already conveyed. Suspenseful but less-consequential, this weaker subplot dilutes the starker, more powerful tragedy and, like Jimmie's character, is less fleshed out. Readers will trip over the plot's loose ends. If the strong lyrical voice can't quite compensate for the plot's awkward execution, it points to a reservoir of underutilized talent in an author worth watching. (afterword) (Fiction. 9-12) COPYRIGHT(1) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

September 1, 2016

Gr 5 Up-Subhi knows only life in the Australian refugee detention center where he was born, and lately, things are getting worse. His mother is increasingly lethargic, older sister Queeny is bossy and angry, and his best friend Eli has been transferred to the single men's compound. The Jackets (guards) are unfriendly, except for Harvey, who occasionally brings presents and diversions. It's at this low point that Subhi meets Jimmie, a local child who finds her way into the camp. Jimmie's mother has died, and between her father's grief and his erratic work schedule, she is alone for long periods. Jimmie can't read, so she asks Subhi to read aloud her mother's notebooks, which contain stories from her mother's past. The unrelenting conditions of the camp result in a tragic situation that impacts both children. Fraillon creates a complex narrative, weaving tales from Subhi, Jimmie, and the notebooks. The characters and situations are portrayed realistically-once Eli has gone, Subhi cannot withstand the bullying of some of the older boys and is pressured into an act of animal cruelty. Kind guard Harvey is also shown to be unable to deal with peer pressure. While the book is fictional, the author based it on research and reports of life in Australian detention centers, where conditions are grim. Readers will come away with a raised awareness of life in such centers, but why these facilities exist is not discussed. Students may be inspired to do their own research on organizations working to better the lives of refugees. VERDICT A thought-provoking and affecting selection that highlights a current situation in many countries. Hand to readers who appreciated Linda Sue Park's A Long Walk to Water.-Michelle Anderson, Tauranga City Libraries, New Zealand

Copyright 2016 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

Starred review from October 1, 2016
Grades 4-7 *Starred Review* Unlike his maa and sister Queeny, Rohingya refugees forced to flee their native Myanmar by boat, Subhi was born in an Australian detention center. The crowded quarters, rationed portions, and exacting employees (the Jackets ) are all the 10-year-old has ever known. Jimmie, on the other hand, was born on the outsideand lives just blocks from Subhi's center. Once filled with books and gardens, her world was ruptured by the recent death of her mother. While Subhi's stories, dreams, and drawings help him endure the center's countless hardships as he awaits the arrival of his faraway father, Jimmie copes by sifting through memories. One remnant, an unread notebook of her mother's, has her hunting for answers and finding them in, of all places, Subhi. As their stories gracefully interlock, the center seethes with unprecedented tension. The pivoting story line, with chapters alternating among Subhi, Jimmie, and sparkling slivers of family lore, allows Fraillon to explore the many faces of otherness, bravery, and solidarity. But Subhi's narrative, whether he's squabbling with a rubber duck or searching the stars, remains the standout of the three: wide-eyed, heartfelt, and infectiously imaginative. Appended with a glimpse at the all-too-true reality of refugee maltreatment, this tale is breathtaking and indispensable. As Subhi might say, there is a fierce inside of it.(Reprinted with permission of Booklist, copyright 2016, American Library Association.)

January 1, 2017
Nine-year-old Subhi has lived his entire life at the Australian refugee camp where his mother, Maa, and older sister, Queeny, have been detained since fleeing Burma. Conditions are awful: expired food, and not enough of it; rationed water; tightly packed living spaces; cruel guards, called "Jackets," who patrol the area. One night, an Australian girl named Jimmie, lonely and curious, sneaks through the barbed-wire fence surrounding the camp and comes face to face with Subhi. They strike up a friendship--she brings Subhi hot chocolate and food; he reads to Jimmie from her dead mother's storybook. It's a measure of comfort, especially as Subhi's situation deteriorates further. His mother no longer leaves her bed. His best friend, Eli, is forced to move from Family Compound to Alpha, a place for rough, older men. Queeny puts herself in terrible danger by documenting conditions in the camp. Then a hunger strike brings things to a climax--people have sewn their mouths closed in protest--and a fire leads to widespread catastrophe. Fraillon's story is stark and urgent; her afterword tells more about the "all-too-true reality" that inspired the book. Occasional glimmers of hope shine through in Subhi's lyrical narration ("I put the shell to my ear and listenSomeday, it whispers. And the sound of the whisper is as brilliant as a thousand stars being born"). At the end, Fraillon leaves readers with the sense that the tragedies suffered by Subhi and his family will no longer go unnoticed. elissa gershowitz Phantom Limbs by Paula Garner High School Candlewick 359 pp. 9/16 978-0-7636-8205-7 $16.99 Over three years ago, sixteen-year-old Otis Mueller's first love, Meg Brandt, moved away following the tragic death of Otis's little brother Mason in the Brandts' home. Otis has tried to move on, honing his swimming talents with eighteen-year-old Dara--formerly a swimming phenom herself before the amputation of her arm--as unofficial coach and unpredictable new best friend. But now, after years of silence, Meg is coming back for a few weeks; a summer of awkward reminiscing, unspoken confessions, and romantic tension ensues, all while Otis tries to keep up with swimming, help Dara through her own struggles, and deal with the grief reignited in his family by Meg's return. Even if the will-they/won't-they romantic suspense feels draggy, it's grounded in the believably complicated young love Garner has crafted between Otis and Meg. And while narrator Otis can be sappy at times, his mindful presence--in both everyday teenage life and in larger emotional moments--outdoes the sentimentality. Garner does a fine job cultivating the book's titular theme, with Dara's phantom-limb pain, Otis's grief-filled memories, and Meg's PTSD (she discovered Mason's body) evoking in readers the acute ache of losing something, or someone, vital. As her debut powerfully mines the depths of such loss, it also charts the terrain of healing that follows, leaving readers with hope via Otis's wise insights: "If something is unbearable, then how do you bear it? It's an oxymoron. And yetSomehow I was bearing it." katrina hedeen

(Copyright 2017 by The Horn Book, Incorporated, Boston. All rights reserved.)

September 1, 2016
In the Australian detention camp where he was born and still lives, Subhi, 10, a Rohingya boy, shares a crowded tent with his mother, older sister, and other refugees and dreams of an unbounded world and the Night Sea. Stories feed Subhi's vivid imagination, especially the ones his mother tells of life back in Burma, but Maa rarely speaks now. Camp living conditions are dire: borderline inedible food, appalling sanitation, and the Jackets' inhumane treatment, which ranges from indifferent to cruel (kindly guard Harvey is the exception). Subhi helps his friend Eli trade valuable items among detainees until Eli is sent to live with the adult single men; then his companionship is limited to the Shakespeare duck, a rubber duck he keeps in his pocket to talk to--and who talks back in his portion of the narration. Near the camp, another child, Jimmie, also 10, lives with her father and brother. Jimmie treasures but can't yet read her deceased mother's notebook of stories. Following a (false) rumor that detained kids have bikes, Jimmie sneaks into the camp unnoticed. After meeting Subhi, who's happy to read the stories to her, she visits frequently, bringing hot chocolate and snacks. These easily accomplished visits don't square with the established gulaglike conditions and contradict the brutal realities already conveyed. Suspenseful but less-consequential, this weaker subplot dilutes the starker, more powerful tragedy and, like Jimmie's character, is less fleshed out. Readers will trip over the plot's loose ends. If the strong lyrical voice can't quite compensate for the plot's awkward execution, it points to a reservoir of underutilized talent in an author worth watching. (afterword) (Fiction. 9-12)

COPYRIGHT(2016) Kirkus Reviews, ALL RIGHTS RESERVED.

June 2, 2016
In a story that is in some ways reminiscent of John Boyne’s The Boy in the Striped Pyjamas, author Zana Fraillon asks readers to imagine a ‘Someday’ better than today. It is a story that weaves together the similarities between Jimmie, a young girl living just outside the fence of a permanent detention centre in Australian, and Subhi, a Rohingya refugee born on the inside. Jimmie grieves for her deceased mother and feels cut off from her family, who are struggling to make ends meet, while Subhi dreams of meeting his Ba and imagines a sea that sweeps up to the sides of his tent each night. In the morning he finds treasures on the ground that he is sure have been left by the Night Sea and his father. When Jimmie and Subhi meet they become symbolic to each other of hope and change. Many of the elements in The Bone Sparrow act as a fairytale, which gives readers permission to imagine themselves into its reality. In the current political climate, where the voices of refugees are silenced by power and indifference, books like this one are both necessary and problematic. They deal with themes that are extremely confronting and they highlight the fact that these stories are not being told by the people who are living them. From her introduction and acknowledgement, Fraillon appears acutely aware of this, and The Bone Sparrow is clearly written with great care. Her work seems to come from a deep need to act and to use her position as a writer to confront injustice rather than turn away from it. The Bone Sparrow isn’t without fault. Without the benefit of lived experience, neither author nor reader are truly able to know its authenticity. At times it seems the onus of hope is placed more heavily on Subhi, and that Jimmie’s circumstances don’t give her enough knowledge or power to enact change. Despite this, The Bone Sparrow is a powerful story for readers of middle-grade and YA fiction, and one that implores them to recognise the injustice in their own world in the hope that ‘Someday’ they will live in one that is better. Bec Kavanagh is a Melbourne-based writer and reviewer. She is the Schools Coordinator for the Stella Prize, and chair of LoveOzYA