Heavy Medal Mock Newbery Finalist: THE COLOR OF SOUND by Emily Barth Isler
Introduction by Heavy Medal Award Committee Member Quade Kelley
In THE COLOR OF SOUND by Emily Barth Isler, readers meet twelve-year-old Rosie, an extraordinarily talented violinist with a secret. Rosie has a gifted neurological condition called synesthesia, the ability to experience and connect sound in a multi-sensory way that is hard to explain and few can understand.
In her journey of self discovery she goes on a “violin strike” which means no summer music camp, and the only alternative is to join her mother (and encased violin,) on a trip to her grandparents’ home in Connecticut. Rosie’s perspective changes when time-shifting, mystical encounters provide an unexpected friend, the 12-year-old version of her mother, Shanna. Learning that her mother is not the “one-note melody” she had imagined, Rosie begins to unravel the secrets of her generational neurodiversity and its profound impact on her family. Alongside a fun cast of supporting characters, Rosie embarks on a journey of self-discovery that changes her perception of the past and the power of music to create her future.
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THE COLOR OF SOUND is a middle-grade novel with magical realism that prepares young readers for the experience of finding their own path through exploration, while achieving excellence in defined Newbery rubrics.
Emily Bath Isler skillfully captures a gifted experience of neurodivergence through her characterization of Rosie and vivid depiction of synesthesia. This 2024 book resonated deeply with me as an authentic coming-of-age story that touches on themes of inter-generational identity, cultural and Jewish history, and music through the lens of an extraordinary mind with original perspectives.
Well-crafted language is artfully conducted with precision, arguably crossing into the category of literature. The universal experience of identity exploration provides the book’s timing and unique perspective of the character, who possesses the cognitive ability to experience the world in a sensory diverse way, becomes the melody. The generational voices complete the symphony, providing tension and depth that enrich the story and leave a lasting imprint on the narrative and reader.
From page one, Isler’s consistent use of vivid, descriptive language succeeds in describing the condition of synesthesia. This is the foundation that provides clarity and organization of the plot and setting, which drives unique character development.
“It’s not just dreaming in music for me. It’s dreaming in textures and colors, feelings and temperatures, tastes and scents. When I wake up and try to capture it, I find myself scribbling down fragments: lilies and velvet, sycamore trees, salt and butter, bold lines and wispy clouds, the scent of summer’s first day.” (p.1)
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The language choices felt like a magical blending of perspective, where time and experiences are interconnected with the characters’ experiences in a new way, preparing the reader for a unique journey of self-discovery.
“I can’t avoid music any more than I can avoid breathing. Music exists in all of my senses. It’s in the smell of bread baking in the kitchen, in the colors of the budding tree outside my bedroom window. It’s in the rhythm of how people speak, the sound of cars driving past my house, the feeling of fabric on my skin as I get dressed. Music and I are inseparable. Just because I am choosing not to share it with the world doesn’t mean that music isn’t still going on in me.”
pg. 2
Rosie’s world evokes a sense of wonder and appreciation for the beauty of her unique viewpoint. This is balanced with the very typical experience of a middle-grader questioning identity and adult control.
The multi-generational communication between Rosie and her mother (at the same age) was original. It is an invitation to critical thinking and reminder that our parents were kids too. Through these encounters, readers learn that Grandma Florence was born in a WWII displaced persons’ camp and that her Hungarian ancestor, Dahlia Klein, was a gifted viola player killed in Auschwitz. Through the years, musical and neurodivergence gifts were inherited but hidden (masked) to fit in and prevent prosecution. However, there is hope in The Song from Hungary, a family melody that survived WWII and Grandma’s dementia. Carrying on the cultural tradition of women with a song in their heart, Rosie is able to relate to the complexity of choices and discovers a deeply personal relationship with music on her terms.
Books can create emotional reactions and provide powerful insights in readers. The Color of Sound, paints a symphony of language, communicating the complexities of neurodivergence, and generational identity while highlighting the joy of healing harmonies that develop through the journey of self-discovery. It is a 2024 book of excellence with lasting merit.
Heavy Medal Award Committee members and others are now invited to discuss this book further in the Comments section below. Let the Mock Newbery discussion begin!
Filed under: Heavy Medal Mock
About Emily Mroczek-Bayci
Emily Mroczek (Bayci) is a freelance children’s librarian in the Chicago suburbs. She served on the 2019 Newbery committee. You can reach her at emilyrmroczek@gmail.com.
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I very much appreciate your use of the phrase “symphony of language”, Quade – what a delightful way to write about this book! I found this to be an incredibly unique entry into all of the book’s niches – historical fiction, magical realism, “rebelling against controlling parent”. The synesthesia aspect is one that added such a beautiful and rich layer, and I feel is what elevates this book to Newbery level. The only part of the story that I was a bit let down by was the unanswered question of the logistical “why and how” of the mother in the shed, although with magical realism, of course, there does not need to be a why or how. This just left me with a feeling of incompletion as the book ended, trying to untangle it. I always have to remember that I am an adult reader, with adult ways of figuring out the world, and am not the intended audience. I did love the shed addition to the story overall, though, as it offered a device for Rosie to understand her mother. This was such a relief in the middle grade market where so many stories offer parents as villains with no nuance or explanation for their behavior.
This book is the last of the books published in 2024 that I read in 2024, and the last of the 15 books on the list I needed to read. One area that I felt excelled from the newbery criteria was the delineation of characters. The language that was used to describe the synesthesia helped to give insight to characters in a unique and different way than I have experienced in any other book. All characters in this story, no matter how small the part felt will flushed out and that you had intimate connection with them because of the use of color and sound used to describe them. It was particularly interesting to read about the color shifts in the 2 Shannas.
In the same way that delineation of characters was strong, I feel it also excelled in the delineation of setting. I felt transported to all of the locations that Rosie spent her summer: the cool basement with the improv students she longed to join, and the bright table where they ate lunch. the cold pool that held a space of calm and quiet for her and the various rooms in the house that each had their own emotion(like the climate controlled space her violin was kept that drew obvious connections to her own feeling on how she was treated when she played the violin).
The Color of Sound is one of the strongest representations of a distinguished contribution to children’s literature that I have read this year, purveying a strong plot with a unique concept that celebrates neurodiversity and culture. It’s language left me lost for words in sections.
As someone who has read 71 middle grade books that were published this year, The Color of Sound takes elements of several of the “flawed parent” tropes we saw heavily in the books published this year, along with a very similar concept to the book Across So Many Seas by Ruth Behar(the generational history) and flips them in a way that stood out in a way several other books did not.
Of the books that made the final HeavyMedal list, I think this one stands as the strongest contender to win the Newbery.
Ms. Meg-
I agree with your argument about delineation of setting. In particular, experience around the pool was written so well and connected the dots for me. It was described as a place where Grandpa made peace with daily swims and became the activity that lifted the noise of life from Rosie’s mind. It provides deeper character insight and drives the plot. It also provides a window for people to understand a positive experience of neurodivergence.
Swimming is a common sensory quieting for neurodivergent people. The subtle details in Emily Barth Isler’s description of the clarity, control and connectivity of this setting and experience were awesome (the days I get outside and into the water, are my best.)
Here is an example form page 217:
“I swim a few laps before getting out to join them… I am delaying having to get out and talk to everyone more. I’m feeling drained from all the social contact, wishing I could disappear into some music… That’s never felt lonely. It’s like speaking through the echoes of time and space to the composers. The music they wrote laid out that maps that take me inside their brains, through the pictures they paint with their words and adventures.”
There are many outstanding novels in the 2024 middle grade category. I lined this up with THE WRONG WAY HOME (O’Shaughnessy,) ACROSS SO MANY SEAS (Behar,) THE SECRET LIBRARY (Magoon) – all incredible stories with strong female characters, inter-generational ties and gifted writing. Any one of them could be on the Newbery podium in 2025.
I am satisfied that THE COLOR OF SOUND is a HMAC finalist. It reflects the importance and experience of WHO is on the committee, in shaping the medal outcome. This is a book I champion as worthy of consideration (and it is my middle-grade, violin-playing little sister’s favorite book of 2024.) Thanks to Emily for consolidating my intro (from my 1636 word Youth Review.)
In my second read, I caught this quote that felt important to add. ” I kept so much color to myself because I was scared of being too much… How many generations of us have hidden something? And how many of us have hidden the same things? … By learning the song, I’ve broken the code. By playing the song, I break the silence. I’m finished hiding, and I’m done playing in a way that makes everyone else comfortable, Whether perceived or real danger are out there, I’m not scared.” ” (p.237)
I love knowing that this is your sister’s favorite book of 2024, Quade! I very much want youth voices to be more of a factor in the Newbery criteria.
I also loved The Secret Library(and it was my favorite middle grade read of 2024). It was the first book I nominated. That one just rings so different for me than this because of the more heavily fantasy elements rather than the magical realism that was in The Color of Sound.
I also really loved The Secret Library. I felt like it wrapped up a little quick, more of a pacing issue than a plot issue, but overall I found it so impactful. I really hoped it would make this Mock list and I am interested to see where it falls out in the YMAs!
Not everyone could skillfully write a book about color/sound synesthesia and make it flow and work the whole way through the book, but Isler does it in spades. This book begs to be read aloud and savored for the numerous incidents of descriptive language. Others have already mentioned the swimming sections so I will highlight a few other notable sections.
On page 78, Rosie talks about her struggles with her mother. “It’s like there’s a thunderstorm in my brain – the hot and the cold, the light and the dark, the warring extremes of those contrasting emotions, ending up in shades of silver and gray, flashes of light so bright they hurt my ears.”. Combining the light and the sound helps us really understand what is going on in Rosie’s brain all the time.
I loved the addition of the improv group of kids. Their outlook on creativity and inspiration – “yes, and” is such a contrast with the box of classical music that Rosie has lived in. As Rosie works through her own self discovery, she realizes that she has limited her love of music by going to an extreme of “no” instead of “no, but”. She is learning to find a place between extremes and find her own path.
This book really excels on the plot with good pacing, delineation of character especially through associated colors and sounds, and a strong theme with a fun, magical twist.
I do have a few quibbles. As noted in another review, there is really no explanation of the shed and for Shanna’s visits. Does it matter? One thing that struck me was the use of the shed as the place where the time twist occurs. The only reason this stood out to me was because I recently read Westfallen by Ann Brashares where a shed is also used for time travel. In that case there was a bit more explanation as to the how. Again, does it matter?
There are a lot of strong books on our list. I am not sure this is at the top of my list but it also may warrant another read time permitting.
I keep coming back to the use of language in this book. Quade captures that very well in his introduction: “Isler’s consistent use of vivid, descriptive language succeeds in describing the condition of synesthesia.” That element of consistency is especially impressive. The author puts colors and sound into Rosie’s narration all the way through. That’s the sort of thing that could become repetitive or too obviously purposeful, but instead it just flows. It’s the way we step into Rosie’s head and really get to know her unique way of perceiving and interacting with people and the world around her.
I was thinking the same thing… does it become too repetitive or too obvious? It’s a book about a person who mixes colors and sound so the author has to use those words, senses, etc to portray it accurately. I agree though – it does flow and really helps the reader experience what it would be like to live in her brain and experience it all the time. This is also what makes the swimming scenes so powerful for Rosie and for the reader.
I read this book around the same time as a couple others – Lois Lowry’s new TREE. TABLE. BOOK. and Aranka Siegal’s UPON THE HEAD OF A GOAT, which won a Newbery Honor in 1982 – and it made me think about Holocaust stories in new literature. I think there is value in having books set in the present day where the protagonist learns about the Holocaust, to give modern readers a character who they can directly relate to as a lens to understand it better. Siegal’s book is a memoir, and reading about small-town Hungary during WWII seems so removed from the present day that it might as well be THE TRUMPETER OF KRAKOW, set in the 15th century. The problem is that Holocaust survivors today had to have been kids back then and very old now – Lowry’s book is about connecting with a survivor who has developed dementia. THE COLOR OF SOUND might be the way forward we see on this. Although Rosie never directly interacts with her great-grandparents who were at Auschwitz, and has limited interactions with her grandmother who was born in a displaced persons’ camp after the war, she does get key information filled in from young Shanna thanks to the book’s sort-of time travel. Magical realism, or straight-up sci-fi time travel, might be the way to keep these stories alive for future generations.
Great point about the way the time travel enables a different kind of look at the grandmother’s experience, Ben. With this book I have to avoid the temptation to say: “if only the author hadn’t done the time travel thing, the book would be better.” Because we don’t get to do that. We have to stick with the book the author chose to write. And also: we have no idea if the book would be better at all. So instead, we look at the author’s choices and think about how they impact the book.
With that in mind, I think about how the time travel part set up the most powerful moment of the book, when Rosie plays the song from Hungary for her Grandma. (p 234+). As she plays she’s filled with images from the past which have been expanded through her meetings with Shanna. She even brings a different kind of “time travel” into that moment as she describes it: “If I use Grandpa’s definition, I’m traveling through time as I play, because I’m here, with my feet on the creaky wooden floor of my grandparents’ house, in the dim light of the lamps perched on matching wooden tables on either side of the bed. But I’m also with Dahlia, marching proudly through the streets….” (235-236)
I love your thoughts on this, Brian. I really thought that the viewpoint from a daughter of survivors (Shanna) was a unique and valuable one. So often we get taken to the horror of concentration camps themselves or the terror of living as a Jewish person under Nazi occupation in historical fiction, but rarely “hear from” from that next generation as we do in this book. While I don’t know if direct time travel to the horrors is what we want / need, nuance and a broadened view of the trauma of this genocide is something I would love to see more of in middle grade.
THE COLOR OF SOUND is a book I appreciated much more after a re-read. I always thought that its strength lay in its delineation of characters. Throughout the story, Rosie not only understands her mother more, but also herself, her flaws, and why she struggles with relationships with everyone around her. Shanna is also not just a one-dimensional “mean mom” character; from the beginning, Isler does a good job of showing us that she’s a person with her own flaws and initial misunderstandings with her daughter, as when she genuinely does not know why Rosie is upset that she refers to her as “the one with the violin” for the sake of Grandma Florence’s understanding (19). I was also struck this time around by how subdued Rosie’s voice is; not in a confused way, but rather in the quiet, perceptive way of a child who just wants a break from all the noise. All this along with what others have noted about the language used to describe Rosie’s relationship with music and color truly elevates this book into the realm of *fancy voice* Literature with a capital “L.”
But is the beauty of the language and strong characterization enough to win a Newbery? I would venture to place it on the top 4 and think this title would benefit from extended discussion. I can see many of us going back and forth on the mechanics of the plot. The story is largely identity-driven and many youth ages 10 and up will relate to the pressures put upon Rosie by an exacting parent. The entire symphony builds up to the moment when Rosie takes what she learns from Shanna, Grandpa Jack, and herself to play the lost song from Hungary for Grandma Florence. A truly touching moment! BUT…. I can’t ignore the previous thought I had that the phenomenon of Rosie going back in time (or Shanna going to the future) wasn’t really explained. On the one hand – does it need an explanation? Is it one of those elements of magical realism that readers should just accept? On the other – aren’t the mechanics of time-travel usually explained in books where it’s fundamental to the plot like it is in THE FIRST STATE OF BEING? Does this lack of explanation detract from its effect? I’m STILL not quite sure!
This week, I read back-to-back of three great middle-grade titles in 2024: THE SECRET LIBRARY, THE FIRST STATE OF BEING, and THE COLOR OF SOUND. I chose these titles at my son’s recommendation to debate the issue of time travel as it relates to leading Newbery contenders.
Time travel is the primary theme of both THE SECRET LIBRARY and THE FIRST STATE OF BEING. The authors dedicate significant page time to explaining and developing time travel as a fundamental part of the settings, material organization, and characterization. These are incredible books, and this explanation was essential in both.
It was different from THE COLOR OF SOUND. The character does not time travel. Instead, a concurrent timeline is introduced, allowing Rosie to meet her mother, Shauna, as a 12-year-old peer. While Emily Bath Isler does allow the character to briefly consider that time-space issue, she moves past detailed explanations. Instead, the author provides dialogue within that context to create connections and, with great language, dedicates page time to helping the reader discover how the past affects the present. This deepens the plot of Rosie’s generational story and her personal identity journey.
I thought this was an excellent choice. Middle-grade readers live in a space where the line between fantasy and reality begins to fade. While building out worlds is a craft, kids pop through time portals with a sprinkle of imagination. It’s why Harry Potter’s platform 9-and-three-quarters doesn’t need GPS and why the multiverse of Marvel is more quickly accepted by middle graders than adults. There is magic in young readers’ imaginative power; in this case, the author’s interpretation works well. With respect for “children’s understandings, abilities, and appreciations,” her distinct choices and mastery of language may land THE COLOR OF SOUND on the Newbery podium.
Quade, your enthusiasm for reading is contagious.
I am impressed with the quality of this discussion, and it makes me appreciate the hard work the volunteer ALA committees do to choose one medalist among incredible contenders.
Thank you for this comment! It helped sort out the jumbled-up thoughts I had about this aspect of the book. Ultimately, I agree with your assessment: the “time travel shed” is more akin to Harry Potter’s platform 9-and-three-quarters: it’s a place in which a concurrent timeline exists. It just is – and it needs no explanation for it to work with the other elements of the story.
First of all, Quade, your introduction for THE COLOR OF SOUND was outstanding! Your insights on this book were spot on and superb! Great Job!
I agree that the language makes the story shine. I love the scene where Rosie is playing “The Song From Hungary” for Grandma Florence. When Rosie is playing, I felt like I could visualize what she sees: “I play in blacks and whites, and in all the gray shades in between. I play every color of the spectrum in its time, turning the images from achromatic to technicolor with each note.” (pg. 235).
Isler’s delineation of characters, setting and the appropriateness of style makes this a Newbery standout. The dynamic between Rosie and her mother was realistic and middle schoolers can relate to this – especially not being able to engage in any extracurricular activities (i.e. soccer and swimming) as her mother insists. The scenes were well crafted, and you felt like you were in the shed with Rosie and Shanna – or at the library with Rosie.
Also, it was refreshing to see a parent that’s not a deadbeat, compared to the mothers in THE TENTH MISTAKE OF HANK HOOPERMAN and QUAGMIRE TIARELLO COULDN’T BE BETTER.
One thing that stood out to me, while Rosie’s mother insists on developing her talents for the violin, her Dad wants her to consider swimming after seeing how natural she is in the pool (pgs. 186-188). Can’t Rosie get a break and be a kid and let her have her own choices? Kids can relate to this because some kids have yet to find their voice and voice their opinions on how they use their talents.
The only thing I didn’t like – which I agree with Julie – is how did Shanna appear in the shed and why?
I suppose I should defend QUAGMIRE when its post comes, but I do think the “bad mom” trend, which here and elsewhere has been fatiguing readers, almost demands closer scrutiny of the mom characters rather than a lumping together. On page 180, Quag’s first flight makes an indelible impression, “From now on, during his whole life, whenever someone lands in front of him in a flying machine and there’s an empty seat, Quag’s climbing in.” The metaphor of flight (here and in the continual descriptions of birds) leads to a moment of insight in the next chapter, in which his mom finally re-appears. Larsen doesn’t use the word, “deadbeat”, but effectively says the same thing, “People see his mom as a disaster, he knows they do” (187). What follows is what Quag sees and then realizes. It begins, “And some days maybe she is a disaster. But other days, she is so alive. That’s what he wants to tell everyone. He wants to tell them about the time she woke him up at 4:30 in the morning because ‘Quag, you have never lived until you’ve seen the sun come up from a rooftop. Get up. Open the window. I’ve got blankets and orange rolls and coffee.’ And they had watched, quiet together, and it had been the most beautiful thing” (188). The last paragraph of that page ends, after saying though his mom’s brain is like a car driving along a ravine, “with one wheel over the edge, maybe it also means that sometimes she’s flying.” The rest of the chapter, only maybe 1/3 of a page, starts with the insight, “Maybe she loves flying” — Quag understands the feeling now — but ends, “Maybe it means she never even notices how fast the ground is coming up to meet her” (189).
Maybe Quag’s mom isn’t a character we want to spend time with (“He’s seen how the other parents at orientation make sure they don’t sit by her, avoiding her tentative hello” (187)), but she’s a real character, fleshed out every time Larsen writes about her, and I think that’s what makes her and her book fly above the crowded bad parent landscape. I think she would resist being confined there. She’d already hijacked her book after all. “This is where she’ll tell him that he’s always trying to keep her down. That he’s making her life small. Small, small, small! He’s trying to crush her!” (112). Though directed at Quag, it might as well be to us.
(Interesting that someone referenced Joey Pigza in this thread. I was just thinking of Joey’s mom, “up and down”, in relation to Quag’s mom.)
Comments: I agree with everyone about the delineation of characters, the lack of explanation of the shed, and the sublime climax of “the song from Hungary.” I love C Gugger’s quote, “There is magic in young readers’ imaginative power.” As Jack Gantos captures the ever-spinning mind in the Joey Pigza books, Isler offers Rosie’s unique gift to us, so much that the constant noise can get exhausting for readers – just how we’re SUPPOSED to feel. “I wish I could clamp my brain off for a few weeks, to stem the constant flow of colors and thoughts and music and sound. I’d like to get a rest from it.” (6) Folks with attention difficulties will relate, too. The intergenerational story with Grandpa Jack and the gradual love for the giant dog are two more examples of characterization and effective plot development. The friendship drama both with Julianne and the improv kids feels authentic. The quest-for-identity is novel – seeing Mom at her age gives Rosie more data to work with. When Shanna asks Rosie who she is, Rosie answers, “I guess I don’t even know.” (151) This response shows how damaging the parents’ behaviors are. Sure, Shoshanna gets more screen time here than the moms in the other “bad mom,” stories of 2024, but she’s still a REALLY flawed parent. The inclusion of musical vocabulary is a brilliant way to include the terms in context rather than having to look at a glossary in the back. There ARE breaks in the color and sound descriptions here and there, which give readers a break, but at the end none are present when they should be. From page 292’s mention of a “mint green wisp of a sigh,” there are no mentions of the synesthesia during Mom’s epiphany of guilt, during Grandpa’s announcement that he’s moving in, even during the improv performance and Rosie’s saying goodbye to everyone. Pulling the black cloths off the mirrors and seeing raindrops on the windshield and hearing classical music on the radio seem like openings for sensory experiences, but no. Color and sound imagery don’t re-appear until the last page (314). After all of the book’s successes, this lack of the sounds and colors in the final 20+ page happy ending is disappointing.
Lastly, some of us have mentioned “recency bias,” for the titles we’ve just read, but we also need to note our librarian/library bias. We do love our books that love us back.
I didn’t get this book until the night before this discussion posted, but I finally finished it during the snow-pocalypse and I wanted to jot down my thoughts.
I did not find this book very impactful. Maybe because I’m towards the end of my reading for Newbery and I’ve already read a lot of great books, but this one didn’t seem to stand out or stand up against a very stacked field this year. As a main character, I really enjoyed Rose. I think the way Isler is able to bring Rose’ synesthesia to the page was really beautiful and lifted the novel up quite a bit. The best parts were Rose with the people around her especially with her grandfather, the group of teens from the improv class and her friend Julianne. This is a small one, but I also loved the way her relationship evolved with Vienna, the dog. It did a good job of illustrating how she was at a turning point in her life, learning and evolving.
I think the relationships that should have stood out the most and really influenced this book were the ones between Rose and Shanna/ Shoshanna (Rose’s mother), but I felt that it all fell a little flat. It felt super forced and over dramatic to me. Plus the wrap up at the end of the book put a bow the size of the ones they put on cars as gifts for the holidays at the end, and I just found it a little trite. Rose keeps wondering how Shanna can turn into Shoshanna but Isler never does a good job of explaining how it happened or why the plot device with the shed and the 12 year old Mom was necessary.
This novel was interesting and felt fresh, but I don’t think it came together well and isn’t one of my top contenders.
I loved, loved THE COLOR OF SOUND; I read it back in March and it has stuck with me, and I’ve recommended it to many people. There’s been a great discussion here already about how the time travel/magical shed/intergenerational element is handled (as compared to the time travel elements in THE FIRST STATE OF BEING and THE SECRET LIBRARY): I think what we have here is magical realism, sci-fi, and fantasy, respectively, and for me, the time travel element works well in each book.
Rosie’s characterization is excellent: she is extremely musically accomplished, but she is also a kid, and by going on violin strike, she’s demanding a different quality of attention from her mother than she’s currently getting. She wants her mother to see her as a whole person, not just a prodigy, and she wants music on her own terms (“You have a gift.” “But shouldn’t I be the one who gets to decide how to use it?” p.286).
I loved her growing relationship with her grandpa, with the dog Vienna, and with the teenagers in the improv group, and the family history piece was such a good way to show the impact of generational trauma: why family history might be kept secret, why (Sho)Shanna might think that standing out – in any way – could be dangerous.
After reading this, I sought out Emily Barth Isler’s earlier novel, AfterMath, and thought that was very strong as well – along the lines of SIMON SORT OF SAYS, minus most of the humor.
I appreciated everyone’s thoughts about the Color of Sound and it helps me think deeper about it. Something that I keep questioning- is how the mom became the way she is at a mom. We learn more about her childhood/ relationship with her mother, but I’m still questioning when and how the shift happened that she went from being so bubbly/ wanting a huge family.. to the driven single child mother. Any thoughts?
The presentation of information criterion includes accuracy. I think it must be a challenge for the Newbery committee to judge this aspect when so many child protagonists these days have some specialized extracurricular, their “thing”, with its own culture, hierarchies, jargon, etc.
The first couple pages of this made me want to stop reading. Isler/Rosie uses the term “soundboard” where “fingerboard” should have been used (6). And it’s simply not credible that any 12-year-old would perform in Mahler’s 3rd Symphony (3). There are so many reasons why not that have nothing to do with Rosie’s talents – let me just say any organization capable of putting on Mahler 3 employs union musicians.
It’s actually worse when an author tries to use specific details like this, but it’s self-inflicted since evidence was needed to establish Rosie’s genius/prodigy cred. This brings me to a related point that while the “child genius” is a trope of popular media, I can’t think of a single instance where being one was necessary or desirable in a middle grade novel (counterexamples welcome). In every instance, it would have been better if the character were simply good enough to be able to compete at a level (and no higher) that the book’s plot can work with. I am always trotting out Kadohata’s Checked and Lockington’s In the Key of Us as the few examples who get it right.
I am sorry it’s low rent to harangue a book I’ve only started. And I am genuinely intrigued after Rosie met her mom. But then something like “Baroque string quartet” (24) drops in, and I want to scream. (This one is pretty basic classical music literacy.) And what conductor anywhere, even at a youth orchestra level (if Rosie even deigns to play with such) uses a metronome to keep time (25)? Did they not get a music reader for this?
Authors can be in the position of Quagmire Tiarello pretending to be a birder. They have to bluff big to write about something they may not actually know about, but “if the first rule of the bluff is bluff big, the second is to make sure you can back it up” (QUAGMIRE, 11).
I am always open to new perspectives, so I did some research.I did find examples of advanced Youth Orchestra performing Mahler’s 3rd Symphony. It was actually beautiful:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=2uBkYFbSLP0
With regard to the literary merit of THE COLOR OF SOUND, I disagree the musical facts are inaccurate, I think they are the author’s interpretation. My experience with a young musician/ violinist validated the claims questioned. My child learned music by ear beginning at age 5 and she has had instructors/conductors use a metronome for practice (it was helpful to learn grouping beats and kids often rush the music. My child still uses a visual metronome while learning difficult pieces.) For those with synesthesia, pitch can resonate as color- but timing is separate. I am not suggesting this is standard practice, but my middle grade reader loves this book and found the facts (in her experience) to be entirely plausible.
I thought this video about synesthesia, was informative:
https://youtu.be/f4krb77cGjg?feature=shared
This musical color wheel:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=q8eTzmu70k8
Youth “prodigy” violinists:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DVxGv-Q0VrE
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HIMrAbr3HBA
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wqIWkLsrgWA
Thanks for finding that Mahler 3 clip. While surprised at first, after looking into the organization (Sydney Youth Orchestra) I actually don’t think it contradicts my point in that if you click on the musician profiles, all but one of them are in college, some have actually graduated college, one is a 17-year-old high schooler. The orchestra itself has a high-school age requirement, and this reinforces my point about “hierarchies” — it would’ve been just fine suspension-of-disbelief-wise and more credible if Rosie *were* like these kids — late-teen on a pre-professional track — in fact of the age if the improv kids she befriends.
Book categories are funny. I actually served as a music reader for a YA book with a protagonist just starting conservatory. I made the comment that it would be more credible to the plot if she were a junior or senior, and the response I got was, the character has to be 17-18 to be YA. Rosie should’ve been 17, but this is a MG novel.
I would argue the metronome point (e.g., not at the level of an ensemble Rosie would play in, metronomes can’t be heard over an orchestra, etc.), and I think fingerboard vs. soundboard, Baroque string quartets, and Bach symphony are not a matter of interpretation. Yes, you can google Bach symphony and come up with examples by Bach’s sons, and you can argue that’s what Isler meant. But it still rings false to me, because in many other instances the book unnecessarily over-specifies a piece of music, e.g., “Tchaikovsky’s Violin Concerto in D major, op. 35” (45). No musician would say more than “Tchaikovsky Violin Concerto” since he only wrote one, and if the context is violin, you wouldn’t say more than “Tchaikovsky” as in “I heard a violinist named Rosie play Tchaikovsky last night”) but in the case of “Bach Symphony” the author doesn’t specify even though it would be needed here because a reader acquainted with classical music will pause and say, but Bach didn’t write any symphonies.
Maybe for every example (and there are lots, lots more) that rang false to me, the internet will come up with something that doesn’t render it completely impossible. But I think the simpler explanation is that the author is writing about something she is not intimately familiar with. And that’s fine, all authors do, but then part of judging literary merit is how well the author did.
And I want to repeat my other point that, from a literary standpoint, Rosie didn’t have to be a musical genius/prodigy. The character’s “thing” could’ve been anything. I think someone else may have pointed out you could plug in someone like MALLORY and it’d would’ve worked. Maybe Mallory finds success with web publishing and her mom manages her career. As I said, a character having a “thing” is an arguably over-used crutch in children’s novels. So it’s a part of my reading to consider things like how credibly is the activity presented? And, how does it integrate into the novel? In MALLORY’s case, I’d say the webcomic isn’t integrated into the novel’s other concerns like the problems her people-pleasing habit causes or the drag reading event. In COLOR, music does underpin the Coco-esque lost melody subplot and the hand-me-down viola (though again, I didn’t like the “I can’t play two instruments” (306), because it’s common for violinists/violists to have and play both instruments), so I get that choice — I just think the specifics could’ve been done better and the prodigy/genius aspect in particular didn’t add anything, caused problems in fact, and was unnecessary to the book.
I’ve finished the book. I’m trying to get past the musical ignorance, because I know it doesn’t bother other people as much (but, c’mon, Bach symphony? (287)) And past that, there is a decent story here about a mother and daughter and family, and I like the meet-your-mother-as-a-child concept. But I stand by the assertion that making your character a synaesthetic musical genius served no purpose and was everything that was wrong with the book. This goes even down to the level of the sentence-level descriptive writing. There was a book, Ivy Aberdeen’s Letter to the World, that showed up in discussion here in its year (2018), and the biggest knock was that the character was always, always matching color and feeling, to the point that, prose-wise, it was straitjacketing rather than expansive. This read similarly, doubly so since a musical term is added on in addition to color.