I loved Esme Raji Codell's other two books. Adored them. I was really, really looking forward to this one--not only did I love the others, but Booklist had given it a starred review. I was the one who actually requested that the library purchase it.
It's a collection of essays (more a collection of her memories, really) about growing up broke (never poor) in Chicago. The description on the book flap mentions a story about Esme and her mom egging a fancy car and another one about staging a fist fight with her best friend to avoid her dreaded piano lessons. Sounds great, right?
I loved the illustrations.
The text was kind of a disappointment.
Like quite a few memoirs geared toward the younger set, I don't think that this one will be particularly attractive towards the intended audience. Not only because of the references that they won't catch (she explained some of them, but I thought she came off as pretty condescending), but because of the voice she used. I just don't think that the reminiscent voice works well in juvenile literature. I'm sure that there are exceptions, but for the most part, I don't like it. It's fine in adult books. Maybe it goes back to the condescending thing? I'm not sure. Either way, it doesn't work for me.
There were essays that I really enjoyed--the ones on religion and education, specifically--but overall? Pretty weak. I'll still watch for her next book, though. Her first two were so wonderful that I won't give up on her easily.
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