By Kim Ventrella
Scholastic Press, 2017. Fiction, 240 p.
| The protagonist of "Skeleton Tree", Stanly, is a normal kid, in all the normal ways--he struggles with handling his temper, and he doesn't understand why he sometimes feels like a grown-up yet keeps getting treated like a child. The least normal thing in his life is that his little sister, Merin, is sick, and he's often responsible for taking care of her. That is, until he discovers a finger bone growing out of the dirt in his backyard. Ventrella's strength as a writer comes from being able to wrap the most absurd of concepts--a magical skeleton, in the most realistic of dialogue. Stanly's world is not as magical as the skeleton. His dad isn't around, his sister is sick, and no one seems inclined to give him answers, help him understand, or guide him through the tough stuff he's dealing with. So although this skeleton plot feels like a big, fantastical mystery, it's rooted deeply into Stanly's world, in which he is desperately clinging to childhood and all its fantasy, while being yanked into the world of adult concerns, even as he is not being given all the information. All of the themes that Ventrella touches on in this book--death, love, family, loss, childhood, innocence--may make the book seem daunting, or as though it might be slow. But the opposite is just the case. Even though Ventrella explores serious and heartfelt, often heartbreaking, themes, she does so with a light touch (but to be sure, this doesn't take away from the realism) and keeps the plot moving at a jaunty, lightweight, enjoyable pace. Sometimes grave topics are handled with care and love, sometimes even with a bit of humor. The tragedies of this book never bog it down, and the charms and silliness of childhood remain intact. This book may end up being a bit difficult for readers who have already gone through their own personal loss, such as loss of a parent or sibling. But it also might remind them of the fleeting joys of life, as well as all you can do to remember those you have loved and lost. And maybe most importantly, that not everything is good or bad, and some things are both. |
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