Looking for the perfect book to gift a young person in your life? The librarians of the PPL Youth Services department have gleefully gathered up their personal picks for books that will be enjoyed by children, teens, and families this holiday season. Not only do we love them as librarians, but these titles are popular with our readers, too.
In addition to the full lists, we’ve handpicked our absolute favorites from each category and highlighted them below. The full lists can be found here:
Uncle Albert sighed. “You either see it or you don’t.”
Two seemingly unassociated stories (the first in 400 pages of pencil drawings and the second in text) slowly and curiously wrap themselves together. The illustrated story of generations of the Marvels, a family of London thespians, segues into the modern story of Joseph, a runaway from boarding school, and his uncle, Albert Nightingale. Joseph seeks clues about his family legacy and the story in text begins to pick up traces of the past – and all ends with a short illustrated section. This is a story of family and what defines family and home. The book has stunning art and beautiful writing.
This weird, wonderful graphic novel for older children and teens is a true delight. (And it’s a 2015 Maine Student Book Award nominee). The best scary stories make an art of building suspense. In Through the Woods, the impact of suspense built both textually and graphically packs a real wallop. I devoured these 5 tales in one sitting, and there were moments when Emily Carroll’s images made me gasp aloud. “Are you okay???” was asked from two rooms away in my house. Some tales are classical, some are modern; all are drenched in shadows, saturated with bleeding colors, and scrawled with text that crawls and scratches its way across the page. Spine tingling and creepy… in a very good way.
How much more curious does it get than a book with footnotes containing footnotes within? House of Leaves is an adventure simply to read all on its own. Fonts change with narrators, entire pages may have one one word, or one line of words, or an entirely upside-down paragraph, and the word “house” is always printed in blue — always. Is the book horror? Or is it a love story? It’s hard to say…perhaps a little of both. But regardless, it is an extremely curious – and curiouser – book.
Although every Murakami I read promises to be my favorite, this is a real contender in my ranks. Featuring librarians whose collection consists of only skulls, shadows that get detached from their human, dream reading, mysterious underground caves, and a condition that imparts pure silence. A true wonderland of a book. One (of many) favorite lines: “Life’s no piece of cake, mind you, but the recipe’s my own to fool with.”
Here is a curiouser book by a curiouser and curiouser author. I have been binging on Kate Atkinson since an accidental encounter with Life After Life in August. I keep meaning to take a break from her intense, wry, bent stories, but I always fall back into her. What if I meet my end before I read it all?…must keep reading Kate Atkinson. Human Croquet flexes time with humor and insight. It never let me go, even after I turned the last page. The powerful thrall of Atkinson’s incredible plotting and addictive style has wrapped me up and made me look more closely by seeing more broadly.
A line that grabbed me: “The marmalade’s the colour of amber and melted lions.” Wow.
These two titles give a full range of the artist’s work with landscape art–which inspires me because it seems to work with nature and doesn’t try to dominate it. His art also strangely reminds me of ruins of stone that one finds in Native American sites like Chaco Canyon, or in Celtic sites in the British Isles.
Are you someone who collects unusual phrases like rare butterflies, delights in the drama of etymological disputes, or perks up at the sound of words like “declension” and “participle”? If so, what a thrill it would be to discover Biting the Wax Tadpole in our nonfiction stacks! An accessible, witty, and charmingly illustrated compendium of linguistic quirks and curiosities from around the world, this book is full of word play of which Lewis Carroll himself would surely have approved. Recommended for amateur armchair linguists and generally curious readers alike.
I want to live among the elements, where I can feel the lick of fog on my cheeks and smell ferns baking in the sun and listen to the unmannered grunts of all kinds of untamed beasts; I also want to be able to order an americano within a five-minute walk from my front door. I guess my need for coffee (and a job) won out, because here I am in Portland. But when I feel the need to be OUT THERE, I pick up a copy of children’s book author/ erotica artist/ political rabble-rouser Tomi Ungerer’s Far Out Isn’t Far Enough: Life in the Back of Beyond, which is a heavily illustrated memoir of his move to a remote Nova Scotian peninsula, where he and his wife bought an old farm house accessible only at low tide. Like his children’s books, this one does not shy away from the darkly comic nature of being a human — whether it involves learning the hard way how to butcher a hog or negotiating relationships with (distant) neighbors and their sheep. His illustrations and reflections satisfy my curiosity about a life I might have lived, while piquing further curiosities: Why, for instance, does he never paint his wife’s face?
“When my husband was dying, I said, ‘Moe, how am I supposed to live without you?’ He told me: ‘Take the love you have for me and spread it around.”
I love true stories, and (I’m not afraid to say it) humans, too, in all their wild complexities. There’s a joy in discovering the small and large truths of others, of paying attention to people who aren’t me and to stories that aren’t mine. If I’m too shy to approach strangers in Maine and pepper them with questions, I’m thankful that my world is hugely expanded and my brain happily enlarged anyhow by books and film and the news and radio and any kind of thoughtful story-sharing project. Photographer Brandon Stanton is the best sort of thoughtful story-sharer. He’s been taking portraits of people on the streets of New York (and around the world) since 2010. Photos and small snippets of hundreds of wide and various lives and voices are gathered here in this 2015 collection. Candid, surprising, saddening, and joyful, Humans of New York: Stories enriches my understanding of the extraordinary human heart.
Henry David Thoreau’s grave at Sleepy Hollow Cemetery. “I would rather sit on a pumpkin and have it all to myself than be crowded on a velvet cushion.”
Happy October! There’s a chill in the air, the leaves are brazen and bright in the trees, and we’re looking up. Here are our staff picks for October (and…a quick search result in the PPL catalog for all things pumpkin).
I cannot express how much I loved this book, but I’ll try: the phrasing, illustrations (don’t overlook all the unique and detailed iterations of Jarvis on the inside covers!) and sentiment are perfect. It is a wonderful read for all ages. I wish Edgar and Jarvis lived with me and I bet you will too! (Also, October is Adopt-A-Shelter-Dog Month so head down to your local shelter and see if you can find an Octopuppy/ new best friend.)
Jacqueline Woodson shares vivid stories of her childhood in her latest book Brown Girl Dreaming, a memoir written in free verse poetry. In beautiful language Woodson chronicles her experiences growing up during the Civil Rights movement. She tells stories about her family, her experiences being raised as a Jehovah’s Witness, her academic struggles, and her journey towards becoming a writer.
My favorite poem “stevie and me” is about her weekly visits to the library. Woodson struggled with reading and had teachers who told her not to read picture books, but at the library she was free to choose the books she wanted.
An excerpt from the poem:
Every Monday, my mom takes us to the library around the corner. We are allowed
to take out seven books each. On those days
no one complains
that all I want are picture books
A wonderfully funny look at a women’s first winter in Portland, Maine, after moving here from Washington D.C. Snow Ban parking, rules around when landlords have to turn the heat on, and a very fun retelling of a trip to LL Bean: which promises to have everything one needs to make it through the winter in the great white north. Very accurate descriptions of Portland in all its quirkiness.
The interesting thing about The Little People is that it was pulled off the shelves because a staff member noticed its spine was peeling. It had not been read in over twenty years. The genre of the book is horror/suspense, which I love (a good read for October!), and it’s set in Ireland. I’m always fascinated by the nature of stories that become forgotten and can be rediscovered by happenstance. John Christopher is best known for his Penguin Classic novel The Death of Grass, which is a post-apocalyptic, world-hit-by-famine (an original Hunger Games?), suspenseful and scintillating Sci-Fi masterpiece.
We live in a technological universe in which we are always communicating…but how well? Sherry Turkle argues that we have sacrificed critical conversation for mere connection, and she investigates the troubling consequences: at work, at home, in politics, and in love, we find ways around conversation, tempted by the possibilities of a text or an email in which we don’t have to look, listen, or reveal ourselves. Reclaiming Conversation is a great read for followers of PPL’s Choose Civility Initiative, a series of programs and discussions that brings folks into the Library for community conversations about the issues that affect our community and our lives. As Turkle writes, the virtues of person-to-person conversation are timeless, and our most basic technology, talk, is crucial in responding to our modern challenges.
I don’t often give unsolicited book recommendations, but when I encounter writing that I feel in my bones is as essential as Between the World and Me, I will mention it at all social gatherings and force it on unsuspecting friends and family disguised as holiday gifts. In his second book, Coates shares an elegant, vulnerable open letter to his son in which he turns an unapologetic and critical eye toward the politics of protecting one’s own body in America. Deeply personal, this densely packed little volume honors the legacy of (and breathes new urgency into) Baldwin’s forever relevant The Fire Next Time, while still forging its own inspired path onward and upward. Between the World and Me is an invaluable gift: it is real, it is current, and it will shake you.
Mary Oliver was once asked if she had a secret stash of poetry tucked away. She did, she said: poems about love. There are a slender sheaf of love poems included in her latest poetry collection, and Oliver weighs in on the subject with a gently nudging humor and delight. She writes wryly about jumping in, and the reader wants to believe such bravery would yield as profound a reward as it seems to have done for Mary O. Or perhaps I’d just like to think so? Oliver’s poetry is always a pleasure, and it certainly is in Felicity.
“I Did Think, Let’s Go About This Slowly,” from Mary Oliver’s Felicity.