Five teens--who may not be teens--or human--are confined like prisoners
to a boarding school, staffed by menacing guardians. Told in the 1 st
person, by Amelia, the perspective is often that of a bright teenager,
commenting with clear-sighted cynicism on all she sees. Engaged by
her candid voice, slowly readers become aware that Amelia and the
others may have psi powers, but not be reliable narrators. They have
forgotten much, and so struggle not to drink the mind-altering
concoctions of sinister Dr. Fell. Their fate may depend on what
happens during the meeting of the board of governors, and the long
recitation of the attendants' peculiarities identifies them as the old
gods of Olympus. There is much to admire: The air of menace,
skulking in darkened hallways, traversing hidden passages, and plotting
against their suppressors. Unfortunately these shivery Gothic
trappings are interspersed with passages of great tedium, and by large
hunks of scientific speculation: "I lay in bed trying to calculate
what degree of curvature in the fourth dimension a plane figure with
two right angles would need to have in order to have lines built on
those angles also be at right angles to each other. It occurred to me
that two lines could be drawn on the surface of a sphere, intersecting
at right angles at the North and South poles, and still be parallel at
the equator. A third line following the equator also would intersect
at right angles." While much of the language is too technical, and
unlike teen speak, the characters' curiosity, prickly loyalty to each
other, and their emerging interest in the opposite sex, seem familiar. Hostages and pawns in a cosmic war, one fears all is surely lost at
book's end--except the next installment is advertised as Fugitives of
Chaos.
Seuss-a-thon
Annual Seuss-a-thon event draws book-lovers of all ages to the Center for Children's Literature.
Drafts on Display
Exhibit featured original work by children's book authors and illustrators.