Frank and Lucky Get Schooled
One day when Frank could not win for losing, he got Lucky.
And one day when Lucky was lost and found, he got Frank.
Sometimes you read a book, and you have a gut reaction to why it belongs in the discussion of the most distinguished contribution of American literature for children, and you can articulate exactly why it belongs in the discussion, but that explanation doesn’t fall very neatly into the enumerated Newbery criteria. And that’s where I find myself with FRANK AND LUCKY GET SCHOOLED. This book belongs in the discussion because Lynne Rae Perkins sees the world in a way that is completely unique, and now that we have glimpsed it with new eyes, we cannot look at the world the same way ever again. Most books remind us of other books that we like, but a rare few seem wholly unique and individually distinct. Lynne Rae Perkins has built a career out of writing such books.
That distinctive glimpse is a product of the text, the pictures, and the relationship between the pictures and the text. There’s quite a bit of misunderstanding about the Newbery criteria in regard to picture book texts–They fight an uphill battle because (a) it’s hard to make the same kind of impact that a longer text does and (b) the presence of words and pictures muddies things rather than clarifies–but Nina coined a phrase (“We consider only the text, but the text need not stand alone”) to remind us ourselves of the gist of it. It’s kind of become our mantra here, something we chant over and over again when we discuss these kinds of texts. In years past, we would quibble about whether this could really happen, or whether it was merely an academic discussion, but now with AVIARY WONDERS, INC taking the Kirkus Prize and THE LAST STOP ON MARKET STREET taking the Newbery, I’m hoping that we’ll all take picture book texts more seriously.
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
Mark Twain said, “I have never let my schooling interfere with my education,” and this book not only demonstrates the spirit of that quote, but also brings to mind current discourses in the world of education about engagement, relevance, and integrated learning. Obviously, I’m bringing lots of positive baggage to my reading of this text, but I’m also bringing a very serious problem to your attention, too. There is a very small amount of Spanish text in the book, but it ranges from awkward to wrong.
Annamaria and I discussed the various problems with it on our picture book teaser post, and the publisher, Greenwillow, chimed in to let us know that they would all be fixed in subsequent printings. I have mixed feelings about this. On the one hand, I’m happy to see this happening, and for me it fixes the only flaw I see in this book. On the other hand, Spanish speakers unanimously find this problematic, and it’s not just the error in and of itself, it’s the characterization of a Latina who cannot even speak her own language properly, so while I love the book to pieces I also have reservations.
Does the Newbery criteria provide any guidance on this issue? It does.
6. “In English” means that the committee considers only books written and published in English. This requirement DOES NOT limit the use of words or phrases in another language where appropriate in context.
And the Expanded Definitions & Criteria in the back of the manual further states that–
IN ENGLISH – means that the committee considers only books written and published in English. This requirement DOES NOT limit the use of words or phrases in another language where appropriate in context. Bilingual books may be considered, with the understanding that the award is given for the English text. In such cases the committee should, if necessary, request that the non-English text be read by a native-speaker of that language to determine whether there are flaws that detract from the book’s excellence or that would limit its acceptance by readers in the second language. Care must be taken, when approaching outside readers, not to imply the book is “under consideration” by the committee. This should be done ONLY by the chair, not individual committee members. Outside readers may be told only that the book is “eligible,” and should be approached as early in the year as possible, to avoid the impression that the book appears on the discussion list. As stated in the terms and criteria, all eligible books are to be considered.
While I believe the English text is wonderful, I also believe that the Spanish is a flaw that detracts from the book’s excellence and also that the Spanish would limit its acceptance by readers in the second language. I wrestled with how I might argue for this one, all things considered, but ultimately I decided not to.
I came back to another mantra that I use: “I can’t want your book to win more than you do.” You, being the publisher, of course. I typically think this to myself when the committee is not getting particular books late in the year, or when the publishers use excessively cheap production values (like paper so thin it wrinkles and warps or the ink bleeds through the other side, especially if you hold it up to any light source). This is a harsh thing for me to acknowledge, given my affinity for this particular title, but it should have been–easily could have been–a moot point.
Filed under: Uncategorized
About Jonathan Hunt
Jonathan Hunt is the Coordinator of Library Media Services at the San Diego County Office of Education. He served on the 2006 Newbery committee, and has also judged the Caldecott Medal, the Printz Award, the Boston Globe-Horn Book Awards, and the Los Angeles Times Book Prize. You can reach him at hunt_yellow@yahoo.com
ADVERTISEMENT
ADVERTISEMENT
SLJ Blog Network
Surprise! Announcing 1000 HORSES FOR THE KING
Fuse 8 n’ Kate: Wee Winnie Witch’s Skinny by Virginia Hamilton, ill. Barry Moser
The Night Mother | This Week’s Comics
Talking with the Class of ’99 about Censorship at their School
In School Library Journal: Good Grief: Middle Grade Authors Normalize Loss
ADVERTISEMENT
Monica Edinger says
My own vocation as an educator caused me to struggle initially when reading this and I’ve been meaning to take another look, letting go of my own personal baggage. I notice that NY Times Maria Russo wrote, “You could call this charmingly eccentric story an anti-school book….” so at least I’m not completely off with this reaction. But of course it has nothing to do with awards, Newbery, or the intended reader. So I need to look again in a more fair way.
I also want to express appreciation for your teasing out the issues around the Spanish in the text. We often discuss here elements that may or not be flaws (we don’t seem to always agree on this, witness last year’s Hired Girl debate) and how fatal they are. You’ve given us a window into your own grappling with this — a book you clearly adore that has a cultural problem that you are able to see. Do you think it would feel the same for you if it was a cultural marker less personal to you? If you knew no Spanish and had to rely on others to convince you?
Jonathan Hunt says
Actually, I don’t know enough Spanish to have caught the errors; my wife called them to my attention when she read the book at my behest, and then I ran them by my three Spanish-speaking office staff. I probably should have listed the Spanish text for the benefit of those who do not have access to the book.
1. Yes. Si. Lucky! Come! (No problems here)
2. Es lo tu perro. Is that your dog? (Ungrammatical)
3. Venga! (Oddly formal, most people would use the familiar voice to address a dog)
4. Me encanta, Lucky. (Ungrammatical and oddly formal)
5. I’m Ana. Mi familia . . . my family just moved here. (No problems here)
6. El caracol. (Oddly stiff; no need for “El” in response to how to say “snail” in Spanish)
6. Hasta mañana. (No problems here.)
7. Guau! (No problems here either; this is actually a nice touch as most people don’t realize that animals make different sounds in Spanish, so here Lucky has learned to say, “Woof” in Spanish)
So your question about being convinced is an apt one. The key phrase in the Expanded Definitions & Criteria that spoke to me is this one: “or that would limit its acceptance by readers in the second language.” For me the two lines that are deal breakers are the ungrammatical renditions of Spanish in 2 and 4 above because not only do they limit the acceptance of the book for Spanish readers, but I would say that they unanimously limit its acceptance. Whether the Spanish is correct or not is a black and white issue. Most of these type of cultural discussions that we get into here are more areas of gray, and we never have this kind of unanimous interpretation. And I almost feel like this kind of “typo” objection almost seems trivial next to some of the things that we discuss in those conversations, so I would be open to considering and discussing the book more fully with colleagues, but I think this one has some pretty formidable obstacles.
Monica Edinger says
Addendum re my initial teacher-biased response to the book: I think it is possible to have the same sort of wondering, exciting, adventurous learning experiences that Frank and Lucky have IN school. I understand why there is the perception that it isn’t possible, but it grates for me:)
Jonathan Hunt says
As I mentioned in my original post, I definitely think there is a message in this book about “education” and “schooling” and I’m not at all surprised that it left a bad taste in your mouth if you saw its message as anti-schooling. I saw it as more of an affirmation that the subjects that we learn in school are actually relevant to our lives, and that our learning in them continues beyond the walls of the schoolroom. Admittedly, it seems like a very pro-homeschooling type of book. I’d be curious what other folks in the education profession think . . .
Kazia says
This is neither here nor there for Newbery consideration, but for what it’s worth: Monica’s response is funny to me because I also feel a little weird/undecided about this book, but as someone who was an unschooler until I went to college (I’m now a children’s librarian in a public library). I feel like the title alone is too school-y for my comfort–I know it’s supposed to be a cute play on words/phrase, but it feels at odds with the active roles that Frank and Lucky take in their education. To me, to “get schooled” implies something happening TO you (although I realize this is a little too black-and-white), whereas Frank and Lucky are more or less autodidacts, at least as far as we can see. I’m a big, big fan of the “world is our school” kind of message, but I wanted it to really lean–lean aalll the way–in to this idea.
Monica Edinger says
Just found my copy and think I was unfair in my previous comment. I’d agree that this is more about taking learning beyond the classroom than an indictment on education in schools (of all kinds) . And, Kazia, I’m with you, both re the sensibility suggested by “get schooled” and with wanting the theme to go even farther in the book.
Alys says
I have a question about the re-issued edition with the Spanish corrected. Assuming that the re-issue happens before January, and assuming that it does, indeed, correct all of the problems, how does the committee handle that? Does it not make a difference, because the original book is already out there? Or do they all agree that they will only look at the corrected version? Does the original, flawed, version get to be a part of the discussion right alongside the corrected version since both versions are available to the public, or do they treat them almost as if they are separate books? Let’s pretend that it won an award: would the award have to be given specifically to the corrected edition?
I realize that no one can truly know what this year’s committee will do, but I was hoping those of you who have been on the committee in the past might give some insight into how you think it could be handled, both from a technical standpoint and from anecdotal past experiences.
Jonathan Hunt says
I wanted to check the Newbery manual to see if there was any guidance on this issue, and I can’t find anything, so I believe this is an issue that the committee would have to wrestle with on their own, perhaps with the chair seeking some guidance from the Priority Group Consultant and the possibly the Executive Committee and Board of Directors. Any award would go to all printings of the book, however, so it’s something to think about seriously.
A second printing appearing before January would be contingent on both the size of the first printing and how quickly the sales of the book deplete the inventory. It’s possible that we will see that second printing before January. As I mentioned any picture book text no matter how excellent and distinguished faces an uphill battle in regard to brevity and words/pictures. If a committee could move past those issues and build consensus around this one, then it could happen. We’ve seen committees recognize books in the past with minor problems that were corrected in future editions. The geography gaffe in ONE CRAZY SUMMER comes to mind, but that case is slightly different since the ratio of excellent text to problematic text was greater and since the population of people who know (and care about) Oakland geography is smaller than people who speak Spanish. Debbie Reese also recently reported on a change to last year’s Printz Honor book, OUT OF THE DARKNESS. So changes can and do happen to the text.
https://americanindiansinchildrensliterature.blogspot.com/2016/08/ashley-hope-perezs-out-of-darkness.html
Tenisha McCloud says
I enjoyed reading this book, I truly did – I laughed at the subtle humor, and appreciated the ways that school subjects could be so easily introduced into the everyday lives of boy and dog. But I’m striving badly to identify what makes the text distinguished? Even in the description above doesn’t really discuss what was particularly notable about the text itself, aside from the first two sentences, which I agree are stunning. But could you detail something more than a gut reaction, please?
As to my concerns… I had an issue with the pacing of the book; the adoption quickly morphs into the various classes, which go on and on (and on) but then the book simply ends. I also was puzzled by some of the vocabulary Perkins used, such as entomology, taxonomy, horizon line and others. It’s not inappropriately advanced for the age level, perhaps, but a little unexpected given the tone of much of the rest of writing. All in all, the parts of this book didn’t quite add up to the whole that you experienced.
Jonathan Hunt says
Tenisha, this is a fair criticism. I suppose I didn’t spend much time extolling the textual qualities because I wasn’t sure how many people had actually read the book yet–or cared to discuss it. Since we’re discussing GHOSTS next, I thought it might be a good primer to focus on the cultural aspect.
Nevertheless, I did say that the book is “individually distinct” which is language from the criteria. I also discussed theme as being a strength of the book, and I would go so far to say that it meets and perhaps exceeds even the best novels in this respect. Monica and I have reacted very differently to the book, but very strongly given our background as educators. Perhaps other people will not feel as intensely one way or the other.
I also dinged the book for accuracy, but did not mention anything about plot, characters, setting, or style. Setting in picture books and graphic novels is often conveyed largely if not entirely through the pictures, so we wouldn’t necessarily expect this to be an element that places it in the range of most distinguished. I think plot and character are also present and distinguished, but not most distinguished. Lynne Rae Perkins does not write plot-driven books or character-driven books, she writes a type of book that few writers do: theme-driven books. All the literary elements serve the theme. Here’s another bit of it at the summation of the plot: “Lucky never got tired of Geography. Neither did Frank. For one thing, it was always full of Science. The Art, if you looked closely, had plenty of Math. And the Math could tell Stories, even History. Everything had a lot of everything else in it. It would take a lot of time and exploring to learn how it all fit together.” If you don’t respond to the theme then you may feel underwhelmed, but I think it says as much about the reader as it does the writer. But those kinds of books aren’t the easiest to build consensus around, either.
I’ll also quibble with your pacing comment–it does have that stream-of-consciousness effect that is a bit of an acquired taste–but I also wonder whether we have not been conditioned to the minimalistic picture book text to expect that economy of words with every picture book.
Perkins’s writing style is very distinguished (and as I mentioned there is a lot of writing in this book), but it’s not flashy and it relies, in places, on a relationship with the pictures. We can’t comment on the quality of those pictures, but we don’t have to be blind to the role the text plays in that relationship. Take this text, for example: “When it’s nighttime, how much of the bed is Lucky’s, and how much is Frank’s? [Six pictures of the bed with Frank and Lucky shifting throughout the night with various dotted lines superimposed over them] This is fractions and percentages. The answer changes throughout the night.” Who, but Lynne Rae Perkins thinks like this? Both the words and pictures work in concert to deliver the humor. In fact, I find that whole math section to be a riot.
Laura says
Thank you for pointing out the problems with the Spanish. It’s a pet peeve of mine for a book to contain Spanish phrases that are incorrect, especially when more and more people around us speak it. I remember a YA book where a Puerto Rican teenager began a letter to his girlfriend like this “Mi cara” which in Spanish means “my face.” (Were they going for the Italian “cara mia”? It’s hard to say).
It’s especially grinding to my gears when there’s only a phrase or two in Spanish in the whole book as I can’t imagine they didn’t have the time to poke their heads into the office of someone who speaks Spanish and say “Hey, is this sentence correct?”
The “Es lo tu perro?” is just horrid. There’s no way a Spanish speaker looked at that and said “yup! Go ahead!” It reads far more as bad Google translate; literally the words “is that your dog” translated one by one.
That said, the math and history sections of the book were both wonderful and I like the subtle humor. There’s something about the tone of the book that makes me see how it could be “distinguished.” Simple and yet profound.
Also, I like it much better than Criss Cross. But I like a lot of things better than Criss Cross, so I’m not sure that’s a fair comparison.
Thanks for making me reread this one; I enjoyed revisiting it.
Joe says
I checked out this book from the library (along with several of the other picture books mentioned in the initial post from this blog). Some of them I quite enjoyed (images, not text – I still can’t wrap my head around text from a picture book meriting a Newbery Medal, but that’s my problem to work through), others I didn’t.
LUCKY falls into a camp of confusion for me. I’ve never really felt drawn to Perkins’ writing. And honestly, I think much of my lackluster reaction is because my students don’t particularly respond well to CRISS CROSS (though they seem to love AS EASY AS FALLING…). Personally, I found LUCKY a bit… flat even though I loved the concept of the book.
Despite being a public educator, the schooling-away-from-school theme was truly lovely. The idea of a child exploring the world around him in a natural, not-connected manner was a joy to behold. And the illustrations are quite enjoyable.
The writing, though, just struck me as fine. Nothing overly florid, nothing ground-breaking. Just fine. The story, though lovely, just seemed average to me. Really, I think the images carried this one for me. And I’m no Spanish grammarian, but my basic high school Spanish background was taken aback by the native speaker’s mistakes. I appreciate that publisher has stepped up to this and taken accountability for it.
And I don’t think it’s at all the same thing as writing an author and saying “Change this word or phrase because I don’t like it and it offends me.” It was grammatically incorrect and stilted and not at all how a native speaker would say words.
Jonathan Hunt says
I’d be really curious to know how these errors made it past the editing and proofreading stages. There is a possibility that they were caught and changed, but then when it went to the printer an erroneous earlier draft of the book was used. I’ve had several nonfiction writers tell me that has happened to them, that some of the errors printed in their books are actually not their fault, that it gets bungled somewhere in the process of publication.
But if that wasn’t the case then how do you know the Spanish is correct. You can use Google Translate, and here it gives you the right answer: “Ese es tu perro?” Barring that you would ask native Spanish speakers. It’s hard to believe that HarperColliins doesn’t have any Spanish-speaking employees, or that they wouldn’t have Spanish-speaking people in their circles: family, friends, clients. You’re in New York City and you can’t find somebody to proof a brief Spanish text? Something’s wrong with that picture.
I definitely get that Lynne Rae Perkins is an acquired taste for many people. I’d argue that it’s distinguished in all literary elements, but most distinguished in terms of development of theme. I’d definitely be willing to consider this one anew if the second printing came out, but I think this would be a hard sell even with perfect Spanish. And there are so many good picture book texts out there this year. 🙂