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The Honeybee Man by L. Nargi
No full textNargi, Lela. The Honeybee Man. Illus. Kyrsten Brooker. New York: Schwartz & Wade, 2011. Print. This charming picture book chronicles the unconventional cottage industry of Fred, a Brooklynite who spends his spare time tending three colonies of honeybees housed on the roof of his townhouse. As the day unfolds, we follow Fred’s bees as they fan out across the borough, bringing back nectar from the herb gardens, flower pots, and even wild blueberry bushes flowering therein. Fred then harvests the honey and distributes jars of it to his neighbours. With this growing popularity of urban agriculture (and urban apiculture), Nargi’s story is a timely one, clearly aimed at progressive young families interested in the connection between local ecology and human community. The book is transparently but not disagreeably didactic: bee behaviour is examined and explained (both within the context of the story and in a two-page appendix), and the processes of beekeeping and honeymaking are illuminated through Fred’s perambulations within his apartment-cum-apiary. Brooker’s illustrations, a combination of gestural painting and collage, have a patchwork, handmade quality well suited to the book’s overarching preoccupation with all things organic and homespun. Her renderings of Brooklyn’s brownstone vistas are simple in their bright, flat planes of colour, but also satisfyingly dense with decoupaged texture and detail. Like the honey made by Fred’s “tireless Brooklyn bees,” her artwork is both a concentration - and a sweetening - of the teeming heterogeneity of urban life.Highly recommended: 4 out of 4 stars Reviewer: Sarah Mead-Willis Sarah is the Rare Book Cataloguer at the University of Alberta\u27s Bruce Peel Special Collections Library. She holds a BA and an MLIS from the University of Alberta and an MA in English Literature from the University of Victoria.
Circle Nine by A. Hetzel
No full textHeltzel, Anne. Circle Nine. Somerville, Mass.: Candlewick Press, 2011. Print. Why are hapless females in YA novels always named Abby? I don’t know, the amnesiac narrator of Circle Nine would reply. That’s just what it says on my necklace. So begins Anne Heltzel’s debut thriller: a teenaged girl awakens on the pavement outside a burning building with no memories and no name, save the one she wears in gold around her neck. With her is a mysterious, charismatic youth named Sam, who claims to be her friend. Sam persuades Abby to retreat from the fire and into the woods, where they hide in the safety of his “cave-palace”: a glittering subterranean paradise full of shimmering fabrics and sumptuous furniture. There, the two of them sip pomegranate wine, discuss fine literature, and forswear all contact with the outside world, which Sam likens to an Aleghierian hell (hence the book’s title). We suspect this a fantasy, invented by Abby to protect herself from an uglier cave and an uglier Sam, to say nothing of the ugly events occluded by her smoke-kippered memory. The question is: whose fantasy is it? What sixteen-year-old with cheap bling on her neck would retreat into a happy place wrought with literary allusion, Platonic cave metaphors, and Oriental carpets? This is clearly the reverie of the author herself, still in love with her various muses. Abby’s fantasyland, though out of character, is not necessarily a detriment to the novel itself. Indeed, we could do without the predictable combination of flashbacks and sleuthing by which Abby reconstructs her true identity, and abide instead within her doomed and darkly luminous otherworld. For it is there that Heltzel’s storytelling is at its boldest, her writing most sensuous and wild, and it is here that the novel promises—if only briefly—to be something other than the dreary chestnut about a naïve girl brought low by bad luck and sly men.Recommended with reservations: 2 out of 4 starsReviewer: Sarah Mead-Willis Sarah is the Rare Book Cataloguer at the University of Alberta\u27s Bruce Peel Special Collections Library. She holds a BA and an MLIS from the University of Alberta and an MA in English Literature from the University of Victoria
Dead Time by C. Conlin / Shelter by J. S. Lee
No full textConlin, Christy A. Dead Time. / Lee, Jen S. Shelter. Single Voice Series. Toronto: Annick Press, 2011. Print. It is difficult to say which of these brief cold showers will leave you feeling happier to leap back into the warmth of the everyday. Presented back-to-back in a single volume, both novellas share an unhappy preoccupation: picking apart the threads of the past in order to untangle – or at least understand – the enmeshments the present. The narrator of Dead Time is Isabella, a teen awaiting trial for a crime which, she repeatedly insists, she did not commit. It was her boyfriend who murdered the interloping Lulu; as soon as he confesses his guilt, Isabella will be released from the grim “youth center” where she awaits trial. Author Christy Ann Conlin deploys the first-person voice masterfully— Isabella’s rage beats palpably from the page, and we are righteously indignant on her behalf. Yet the further she beckons us into her memory, recounting the events antecedent to Lulu’s murder, the uglier and less justifiable her anger becomes. So gradually is the reader’s sympathy eroded that the story’s final twist – though dimly visible all along – still manages to come as a surprise. Though more straightforward than its companion novel, Jen Sookfong Lee’s Shelter is no less dispiriting in its outcome. We begin at the unhappy end: our narrator, Abby, weeps alone on a park bench. Even before her latest catastrophe, it would seem she has plenty to cry about: maimed by debt, her parents abide in private misery, leaving Abby to run a singularly thankless household. Her only solace is a volunteer job at the local animal shelter, where she meets a beguiling young man named Sean. We know Abby’s infatuation with Sean will end badly, but the form and flavour of this badness is not revealed until Abby fully unspools her dismal yarn. Though hampered by some awkward turns of phrase- “… it feels like he’s always been part of me, like an elbow” - the story succeeds as a meditation on the blurred line between the security of a shelter – be it a house, a family, or a lover — and the confinement of a trap. Pitched at mature but not necessarily avid readers, Annick Press’s Single Voice Series entices with the promise of gritty, fast-moving narratives packaged in a clever two-for-one reversible format. Both Dead Time and Shelter are certainly gritty and, at less than 100 pages a pop, fast enough to read in one go. It is unclear, however, what the effect on their intended audience might be. Comfortless in their brevity, joyless in their details, these novels do little to stir the imagination or assuage the loneliness of the young reader. At best, they offer a frisson of discomfort, a chilling affirmation of vague adolescent unease: the world is indeed out to get you.Recommended: 3 out of 4 stars Reviewer: Sarah Mead-Willis Sarah is the Rare Book Cataloguer at the University of Alberta\u27s Bruce Peel Special Collections Library. She holds a BA and an MLIS from the University of Alberta and an MA in English Literature from the University of Victoria.
News and Announcements
No full textThe final months of 2011 brought to a close a banner year in children’s publishing, with the announcement of major book awards both in Canada and abroad. In November, the Canada Council for the Arts announced the winners of the 2011 Governor General’s Literary Awards. In the children’s-lit categories, Cybèle Young’s Ten Birds and Caroline Merola’s Lili et les poilus won for illustration, while Christopher Moore’s From Then to Now: A Short History of the World and Martin Fournier’s Les aventures de Radisson: L’enfer ne brûle pas took home top honours for text. November also saw the announcement of the prestigious National Book Awards in the New York City. Among the winners was Thanhha Lai’s Vietnam War saga Inside Out and Back Again, which placed first in the Young People’s Literature category. Nor is 2012 off to an inauspicious start. In January, Canadian-born author Moira Young won a Costa Book Award for her debut YA novel, Blood Red Road. The Costa Book Awards, formerly the Whitbread Book Awards, recognize fiction that combines popular appeal with literary merit
Going Beyond Counting First Authors in Author Co-citation Analysis
Full text linkThe present study examines one of the fundamental aspects of author co-citation analysis (ACA) - the way co-citation
counts are defined. Co-citation counting provides the data on which all subsequent statistical analyses and mappings
are based, and we compare ACA results based on two different types of co-citation counting - the traditional type that
only counts the first one among a cited work's authors on the one hand and a non-traditional type that takes into
account the first 5 authors of a cited work on the other hand. Results indicate that the picture produced through this non-traditional author co-citation counting contains more coherent author groups and is therefore considerably clearer. However, this picture represents fewer specialties in the research field being studied than that produced through the traditional first-author co-citation counting when the same number of top-ranked authors is selected and analyzed. Reasons for these effects are discussed
Variations on the Author
Full text link“Variations on the Author” discusses two of Eduardo Coutinho’s recent films (Um Dia na Vida, from 2010, and Últimas Conversas, posthumously released in 2015) and their contribution to the general question of documentary authorship. The director’s filmography is characterized by a consistent yet self-effacing form of authorial self-inscription: Coutinho often features as an interviewer that rather than express opinions propels discourses; an interviewer that is good at listening. This mode of self-inscription characterizes him as an author who is not expressive but who is nonetheless markedly present on the screen. In Um Dia na Vida, however, Coutinho is completely absent form the image, while Últimas Conversas, on the contrary, includes a confessional prologue that moves the director from the margins to the center of his films. This article examines the ways in which these works stand out in the filmography of a director who offers new insights into the notion of cinematic authorship
Why We Broke Up by D. Handler
No full textHandler, Daniel. Why We Broke Up. Illus. Maira Kalman. New York: Little, Brown and Co., 2011. Print. In 1975, Judy Blume published Forever, in which a girl meets a boy at a high school party, dates him, falls madly in love with him, sleeps with him, and then breaks up with him. The novel was the first of its kind— a frank and sexually explicit portrait of teen love, delivered by a modern, post-women’s-lib female narrator. And while the book scandalized some readers, it became a coming-of-age touchstone for others. (Indeed, this reviewer remembers getting a copy from her mother – a bit embarrassing, given all the sex that was in it – as a sort of warning of the pleasures and pains of incipient adulthood.) Fast forward thirty-five years to Daniel Handler’s Why We Broke Up, in which a girl meets a boy at a high school party, dates him, falls madly in love with him, sleeps with him, and then breaks up with him. Not quite the trailblazer of a story that it was in 1975, but a fascinating (and in many ways superior) revision of the doomed-teen-romance downer. Daniel Handler is, after all, known to most as Lemony Snicket, and readers may detect shades of Snicket in the sly wit and mordant humour that infuse this particular series of unfortunate events. But his improvements on Blume’s prototype do not stop at style. For one thing -- and this is a big thing -- Handler invents a far more interesting narrator to tell the tale. While Min Green encompasses the moods and caprices typical of the teen girl umwelt, she also displays repertoire of quirks unwedded to age or gender: an obsession with cult cinema, a wicked sense of humour, and a singular worldview disclosed to the reader in lyrical, synaesthetic morsels. (“Enormous as a shout” is how she first describes Ed Slaterton, her love interest.) Through Min’s voice, Handler creates something that is less a love story than a headlong plunge into the teenage psychic cosmos— that welter of sensory, emotional, and cultural bric-à-brac that young people accrue in their projects of self-creation. The book is cluttered with spurious allusions to movies that were never made, musicians who don’t exist, food and beverages not on offer anywhere outside the text. (Viper shots, anyone? How about a bottle of Scarpia’s Extra Bitter?) These are a clever device on the author’s part; instead of attempting to tap the vocabulary of teenage cool (and burden the novel with effortful hipness), Handler fabricates a pitch-perfect simulacrum. As befits a post-2000 story of young love, there is a visual counterpoint to Handler’s text. Each chapter begins with the image of an object -- a bottle cap, a comb, a pair of earrings – rendered in lush oil paint by artist Maira Kalman. All are mementos of Min’s and Ed’s relationship, and all are cast away as Min comes to grips its ruin. But just as love leaves a trace that cannot be easily expunged, so the images conjured by this novel will resonate, mournful and comic, long after the book is closed. Highly recommended: 4 out of 4 starsReviewer: Sarah Mead-WillisSarah is the Rare Book Cataloguer at the University of Alberta\u27s Bruce Peel Special Collections Library. She holds a BA and an MLIS from the University of Alberta and an MA in English Literature from the University of Victoria
News and Announcements
No full textThe end of summer and the beginning of autumn saw some notable developments in the world of children’s books, particularly in Canada. It is a great delight to announce that The Deakin Review’s namesake, Dr. Andrea Deakin, is one of the joint recipients of the 2011 Claude Aubry Award. Conferred every two years by the Canadian chapter of the International Board on Books for Young People (IBBY), the Claude Aubry Award recognizes distinguished service within the field of children’s literature. Dr. Deakin, founder of the Deakin Newsletter (which this Review succeeds), is a prolific reviewer, collector, and critic of children’s literature, whose work has greatly enriched the study and appreciation of the genre. Also receiving the Claude Aubry Award is Chantal Vaillancourt. A resident of Longuiel, Quebec and a longtime promoter of children’s reading, Ms. Vaillancourt was instrumental in creating the Toup\u27tilitou reading program in daycare centres across Quebec. Her more recent work with the Canadian Children’s Book Centre sees her coordinating the French-language TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award and managing the French-language component of TD Children’s Book Week. No mention of the TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award -- as well as the other awards administered by the Canadian Children’s Book Centre -- can pass without mention of this year’s winners. This October, five titles received these prestigious honours. Plain Kate by Erin Bow (Scholastic), winner of the TD Canadian Children’s Literature Award. I Know Here by Laurel Croza; ill. by Matt James (Groundwood Books), winner of the Marilyn Baillie Picture Book Award.Case Closed? Nine Mysteries Unlocked by Modern Science by Susan Hughes (Kids Can Press), winner of the Norma Fleck Award for Canadian Children’s Non-Fiction.The Glory Wind by Valerie Sherrard (Fitzhenry & Whiteside), winner of the Geoffrey Bilson Award for Historical Fiction for Young People. A Spy in the House (The Agency) by Y.S. Lee (Candlewick Press), winner of the John Spray Mystery Award. The CCBC will also be administering a new award this coming year: the Monica Hughes Award for Science Fiction and Fantasy.In other award news, the International Research Society for Children’s Literature (IRSCL) conferred its prestigious 2011 Award on Picturing Canada: a History of Canadian Children’s Illustrated Books and Publishing. Written by Gail Edwards and Judith Saltman, Picturing Canada has already garnered significant accolades, offering as it does a unique survey of Canadian illustrated works and picture books. The 2011 IRSCL Award confirms the work’s status as a significant contribution to the study of children’s literature. Amid these celebrations, however, the world of children’s literature also lost a major talent. Joanne Fitzgerald, Governor General’s Award-winning illustrator, passed away on August 14, at the age of 55. Fitzgerald’s distinctive style, with its gentle colour palette and cheerful, cartoon-like characters, made picture books such as Plain Noodles, Emily’s House, and Doctor Kiss Says Yes perennial favourites among young readers
Appropriate Similarity Measures for Author Cocitation Analysis
Full text linkWe provide a number of new insights into the methodological discussion about author cocitation analysis. We first argue that the use of the Pearson correlation for measuring the similarity between authors’ cocitation profiles is not very satisfactory. We then discuss what kind of similarity measures may be used as an alternative to the Pearson correlation. We consider three similarity measures in particular. One is the well-known cosine. The other two similarity measures have not been used before in the bibliometric literature. Finally, we show by means of an example that our findings have a high practical relevance.information science;Pearson correlation;cosine;similarity measure;author cocitation analysis
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