The View From Saturday by E. L. Konigsburg

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

We listened to E. L. Konigsburg’s Newbery winning book, The Mixed Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler last year, and enjoyed it, so we thought we would try another of her Newbery winning books, this one some 30 years after the first. The View From Saturday was a hit with the kids, and a pleasant enough audiobook to travel by. 

The story is pretty simple. Four 6th Graders are selected by their teacher, Eva Marie Olinski, to compete in the Academic Bowl. She is not quite sure how she selected them, but they are all connected, as we find out throughout the story.

There are two parts to the story, essentially. The one is the story of the competition, which is told from the perspective of Ms. Olinski. The second consists of four stories told by the individual children, about an incident which deeply affected them, and also turns out in retrospect to be a link to the other children.

Noah Gershom starts it off with the story of a wedding at the retirement community his grandparents live at. He becomes best man unexpectedly after the son of the groom breaks an ankle. He also learns calligraphy, and gains an appreciation for some of the residents.

It also turns out that the groom at the wedding was Nadia’s grandfather. She spends the summer after the wedding rescuing and monitoring sea turtles with her grandfather and his new wife, Margaret, who used to be the principal of her school - and also Ms. Olinski’s best friend.

It turns out that said Margaret is also the grandmother of Ethan, who she ends up meeting. (They had attended the same school without becoming acquainted.) Ethan then tells of his meeting of a new and unusual kid at school, Julian Singh, an immigrant with a British accent. Ethan is wary of getting involved, but ends up helping Julian avoid bullies, and is eventually invited to the tea parties at the bed and breakfast Julian’s father owns.

Julian in turn tells the story of how Nadia’s dog was chosen to play a part in the school play, the bullies attempted to poison the dog, but Julian thwarted the attempt. He also turns down a chance to take revenge, opting for the high road instead.

There are even more connections than the ones mentioned. But the main connection that draws the children together - and causes Ms. Olinski to choose them - is their gravitation toward kindness.

At first, I found the way the narrative jumped around between past and present to be an annoyance. This was compounded by a technical issue. We ripped the CDs to a thumb drive, and three of the disks appeared to my player to be in the same directory, so we had to carefully select which track to play next. There were a few false starts before we figured things out. As things went on, however, the sequence of events became clear, and the overall design of the book emerged.

Overall, it was an interesting narrative. Plenty of humor, good characters, and ethical dilemmas which are resolved in a surprisingly mature manner by both children and adults.

There was a definite attempt at multiculturalism in this book, and it is mostly successful. It is also 20+ years old, and it reads that way just a bit. Also showing is Konigsburg’s own background. She was a New York Jew, like several characters, and treats Jewishness very much as a minority status. Julian Singh is a great character, and written well. But he is the only non-white child. Perhaps it is my own California bias, but that fact seemed just a little odd. On the other hand, it is plausible that this reflected the author’s experience. In any case, I did not find the book to be patronizing or stereotyping. Unless you count a British expat serving elaborate tea. And I find that to be charming in the extreme.

Just a couple of details that I found fun. First is that a winning question for the team involved the distinction between Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. I am a fan of both (and married to a fan of both - and particularly the original Tenniel illustrations…), so I knew the answer to the question right away. I suspect that too many have only seen the Disney movie, which draws elements from both books, and haven’t bothered to read the originals.

The second detail was Julian’s approach to a particular bullying incident. When the bullies snatch his backpack, and write on it in permanent marker, “I am a ass,” Julian changes it to “I AM A pASSenger on spaceship earth.” And of course, bullies would definitely get the definite article wrong. Just one of several fun responses that Julian, ever the optimist, comes up with.

As I said, my kids liked it, and I agree that Konigsburg does have a way with words and characters.

From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankenweiler by E. L. Konigsburg

Source of book: Audiobook from the library

This is another book that my second daughter had already read and recommended. Oddly, I wasn’t particularly familiar with either the book or the author, even though this book dates from 1967. Apparently, it was even made into a movie starring Ingrid Bergman. I had no idea.

 The author illustrated the book as well. 

A few puritan sorts complain about the depiction of naked kids (and water sprites) in the fountain...

Elaine Lobl Konigsburg passed on a few years back, but wrote well into her 70s. This is her second book, submitted for publication along with her first. She previously was a teacher, took a hiatus to get her children old enough to go to school, then returned to teaching, art, and writing.  

This particular book takes an interesting approach to the “how to get rid of the parents” problem that is common in books for children. After all, if the parents were around, they would (presumably) be of some help in resolving problems, and definitely would put the kibosh on many an exciting adventure. Historically, this was often done by orphaning the protagonists. (The “dead parents” solution.) Although it is definitely still used, it is of less use for stories in a modern setting, where, in contrast to even 100 years ago, parents are highly likely to survive until the kids - and grandkids - are grown. Newer books, therefore, have to opt for other solutions to free up their heroes and heroines. Catherynne Valente and Madeleine L’Engle, among others, transport the children to another dimension, as it were. Gary Paulsen strands his hero in an accident. Others have the parents themselves removed - where they may need rescue. Polly Horvath makes the parents the children, incompetent hippies, who are part of the problem the child must overcome.

Konigsburg, however, puts a fun twist on another venerable device: the child who runs away from home. This, of course, has its genesis in tales as old as time, including many a fairy tale. Konigsburg, however, does not include magic, fairies, or anything really that would not qualify as “realistic.” Other than, of course, the ability of two children to run away and not be discovered.

Twelve year old Claudia is the only girl and oldest child in her family. She feels unappreciated and ordinary, and chafes at looking after the baby of the family and doing housework. Thus, she plots to run away, taking her brother Jamie, mostly because he has saved up more money than she has. The two of them find an unused train pass in the trash, and head for New York City and the Metropolitan Museum of Art. (Where else, right?)

The first part of the book is all about how they get settled in, avoid the guards, and make plans to survive long term. However, a mystery arises. The museum makes a mysterious purchase of a statue for far below market value. It is rumored to be by Michelangelo himself, but its provenance is obscure. The debate rages, and Claudia decides to investigate herself, and try to solve the mystery. Alas, she is far too naive to actually succeed, and eventually decides to go talk to the seller, the titular Mrs. Frankenweiler herself.

The story itself is charming, but I think the stronger part of the book is the way the characters are handled. Konigsburg respects her young protagonists even as she portrays them as possessing average, ordinary traits for their ages. They know and understand a lot about their world, other people, and themselves - something I think adults underestimate in children. (My own parents, I think, understood this better than average.) It is the adults that think children are somehow stupid that cannot see what is really going on. Instead, those few adults who treat the children like full human beings are the ones who actually connect. The anonymous correspondent from the Met who responds to Claudia’s anonymous letter is delightfully non-condescending, particularly under the circumstances. It is this letter which prompts Claudia to seek out Mrs. Frankenweiler, who also refuses to underestimate the children, even as she is able to use her own greater experience and knowledge to outwit them.

The story is largely from Claudia’s point of view (except for the framing story, which is from Mrs. Frankenweiler’s perspective), and it is her inner struggle which is most interesting. She, like all of us, wants to fit in, but also stand out. She doesn’t want to be “just another girl” that her parents take for granted. She wants to feel special in some way, and do something extraordinary. The frustration she feels at being stuck as a kid in an ordinary life is quite recognizable. The grand scheme to run away to a great art museum, and spend the days systematically exploring and learning sounds a bit like heaven to me too, I must admit.

The story went over well with the kids, and I found it enjoyable as well. It deserved its Newbery Medal for the well written characters and psychological perceptiveness. We will have to check out a few more of her books.

***

This audiobook was read by Jan Miner, who did a fine job.