Book of the Week: MY BROTHER'S SHADOW by Monika Schröder

Monika Schröder knows who she is and what kind of story she’s telling in My Brother’s Shadow. The book won’t be for everyone, and that’s not a put down by any means. I absolutely loved this book and I have no doubt most readers will love it as well. More, I loved Saraswatti’s Way and was looking forward to see if this book would live up to Schröder's last. It absolutely does and Schröder can be proud that not only has she written one amazing book that everyone should read, now she’s written two.

All this reminds me, there won’t be a writer interview this week. Monika Schröder has already been kind enough to face the 7 Questions and you can read her interview anytime you like. There will, of course, be a literary agent interview on Saturday.

My Brother’s Shadow is historical fiction set in Germany in 1918 during the First World War. First World War, I hear you asking. Does that mean there won’t be any Nazis? Of course, there’s a great deal more to the history of Germany than the Nazi party, but you can’t convince Hollywood of that. And it is my sad duty to inform you that in My Brother’s Shadow, although the groundwork is being laid for Nazis, there are no actual Nazis.

There are some spoiled American children who are never going to read a story about people in another country that happened before they were born (why this should matter to American children, I have no idea, but it does seem to). My Brother’s Shadow is a YA book rather than a middle grade, but I have no doubt some children under 12 would enjoy this story and there’s nothing so very adult to prevent them from reading it. But I’m talking about the children willing to read any historical fiction in the first place, let alone a book about German Nazi-less history set during the First World War.

By its very nature, My Brother’s Shadow has ruled out readers. Almost every book does this to some degree. The Left Behind books were probably never going to be read by Christopher Hitchens and so on. Monika Schröder doesn’t care. She has a story to tell and she’s telling it. If you’re smart, you’ll pick up a copy and enjoy it. I certainly did.

Moritz Schmidt is our sixteen-year-old hero caught between two worlds: the repressive regime's traditional order and the coming democratic revolution. His brother Hans is a soldier and he’s hardcore:

It reminds me of Papa, who died at Verdun two years ago. At first his letters are proudly described the devastating impact of the German flamethrowers on the enemy’s morale, but as the battle dragged on he openly expressed his despair. When my mother read one of those sad letters to us my older brother, Hans, turned red in the face and yelled, “Maybe we should send him a nerve tonic to build up his strength if he is such a weakling.” Hans can get angry like that.

Moritz’s mother and sister and new Jewish girlfriend are revolutionaries. Poor Moritz is torn between them and comes to symbolize Germany as a whole—clinging to a revered past for which so much has been sacrificed and yearning for a new future in which democratic prosperity and Jewish girlfriends will be cool with everyone (I don’t have the heart to tell him he might be in for a bit of a wait).

And then there’s Hans, who loses an eye and half an arm in a gas explosion and is badly disfigured. With his rhetoric and his appearance, Hans reminded me a bit of Anakin Skywalker toward the end of Revenge of the Sith. And why not? In both cases, a dark empire is coming and we can see it forming in the horizon.

But for all that, My Brother’s Shadow is not about Hans or the likeminded that are going to bring about nasty business for a time. This is a book about Moritz and the German spirit and how it will triumph, even in the face of dark times. After all, American people as a whole are basically good, even as we move from one dark part of our history to the next. Does it not follow that this is also true in other countries?

Through different plot contraptions, Moritz is brought into contact with different characters in multiple locations representing multiple viewpoints, all of which contribute to Moritz’s new view of himself and the reader’s understanding of Germany’s coming revolution.

I found each encounter fascinating and Schröder has a gift for making me feel as though I’m there, witnessing each event first-hand. And every adventure Moritz has broadens our knowledge of the time and place and society by delivering important exposition as well as revealing national motivations, as during this robbery scene:

“Look at this. The order of the Crown Cross, Third Class with Swords.” I hold up the metal cross on a blue riboon. “And here is a medal commemorating Kaiser Wilhem I’s hundredth birthday.”


“I’m sure the man of the house is a hero,” Robert says. “Let’s go!”


“Didn’t these people have to give up all their metal to support the war like the rest of us,” I ask. Plants are lined up next to the radiator, each of them growing out of a brass pot. My mind shifts to the time when we brought Mama’s copper pan and water kettle to the resource collection agency. Oma and Mama had even exchanged their wedding rings for thin iron rings and a certificate that praised them for giving “gold for iron.”


“The rich don’t have to give up anything!” Otto snorts. “Wait until you see their pantyr!”


We reach the kitchen at the end of a long hallway. The pantry is filled with sacks of flour, sugar, and lentils. Canned fruits and dried sausages are lined up on a shelf.


“How did they get all this?” I ask. Robert is already chewing on a piece of cheese he has taken from an earthen container.


“Don’t you know that the rich are not suffering? They have connections and money. And they look out for their own,” Otto says.

Schröder also has a knack for cliffhanger chapter endings, such as:

“Then we have this.” Aunt Martha gets up and opens the top drawer of her sideboard. When she turns around she is holding a revolver. The expression on her face shows me that she is determined to use it.


Early on in the book is one of the best cliffhanger chapter endings I've ever read. We’ve learned Moritz supports the government and the old regime as does his companion, or so we’re told. Moritz wants to be a reporter and he jumps at the chance to follow Herr Goldmann to a protest rally to cover it for the paper. That’s when Schröder hits us with this chapter ending:

“This woman has guts,” Herr Goldmann says approvingly. He scribbles something on his notepad. I don’t respond. I can’t tell Herr Goldmann that the woman is my mother. (dum, dum, dum! – MGN)

I’ve got more to say, but that’s where we’re going to have to leave it, Esteemed Reader. I’ve got to post this thing and get to my day job. Be sure to come back on Saturday and next week when M.P. Kozlowsky will be joining us. As always, I’m going to leave you with some of my favorite passages from My Brother’s Shadow as well as an inspirational video to remind you to tell your story with gusto and show the world who you are:

It’s already September, but late summer’s humid heat has returned; it clings to me like a hot, wet towel…

“Or what they call bread, nowadays,” Mama says. Before she sits down at the table she rolls up the sleeves of her blouse. The skin on her hands and arms is tinted yellow from the acid in the ammunition factory.

Mama smiles and lets her arms fall against her skirt. “You are too old for a hug, aren’t you, now?”

I don’t feel too old for anything. For a moment, I want to throw myself onto the floor and pound my fists against the carpet until Mama sits down at the sewing machine. But instead I watch her walk into the kitchen, where she opens the lid over the stove to stoke the fire. When I turn toward the sewing machine I see my own reflection in the windowpane, the reflection of a boy who should have known better.

Hedwig and Mama quickly set the supper table, and when we sit down Hans ravishes the food like a famished animal. I can tell that Mama and Hedwig take less to make sure there is enough for him. Mama asks about the food he ate during the war and Hans thanks her for the packages, describes stews and cold canned food. Yet the conversation feels strained. Hedwig just stares at her plate, and when she does look at Hans she nods as if she is hard of hearing and they are talking over a great distance. Mama keeps moving her hand behind her ear to fasten a strand of hair that has loosened. Then there is only the sound of Hans smacking his lips and swallowing the sausage.

“We’ll get the coffee faster if we take the streetcar,” Rebecca says, and points to one waiting at the corner. We step quickly inside and sis down on a bench in the back. The now is falling heavier now, and thick flakes melt, sliding down the windowpanes. There are no other passengers. Rebecca leans her head against my shoulder. I put my arm around her and bury my face in her hair. We are finally alone.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: Book of the Week is simply the best book I happened to read in a given week. There are likely other books as good or better that I just didn’t happen to read that week. Also, all reviews here will be written to highlight a book’s positive qualities. It is my policy that if I don’t have something nice to say online, I won’t say anything at all (usually). I’ll leave you to discover the negative qualities of each week’s book on your own.

7 Questions For: Author Monika Schröder

Monika Schröder is the author of The Dog in the Wood, Saraswati's Way, and My Brother's Shadow. 

She grew up in Germany and has taught grade four in international schools in Egypt, Chile and the Sultanate of Oman before becoming the elementary school librarian at the American Embassy School in New Delhi, India. Monika always ate her vegetables and grew to be 185 cm (6 feet 2 inches) tall. She met her future husband in Aswan, Egypt and they got married on a ferryboat in Northern Michigan. Monika loves to walk in forests or bake a cake when she gets stuck with her writing. In January 2010 she and her husband adopted an Indian street dog, whom they called Frank, and who now is the center of their life...

Click here to read my review of Saraswati's Way or here to read my review of My Brother's Shadow. 

And now Monika Schröder faces the 7 Questions:


Question Seven: What are your top three favorite books?

My top three books change yearly, sometimes even monthly. Currently, they are: THE GOOD THIEF by Hannah TInti – a Robert-Stevenson-like story about an orphan who is adopted by a con-artist set in colonial New England. I love the gothic atmosphere and the gripping plot. Another favorite of mine is SEA OF POPPIES – by Amitav Ghosh – a wonderful, sprawling story set in India during the time of the Opium Wars. And finally there is an old-time favorite that I already loved when I was a kid: EMIL AND THE DETECTIVES, a children’s detective novel written in 1929 by the German writer Erich Kästner. The book has recently been published in English with an introduction by Maurice Sendak.


Question Six: How much time do you spend each week writing? Reading?

I am very lucky that as an elementary school librarian reading is a big part of my job. I write about an hour in the morning before I go to work and all day on weekends and during vacation. I don’t know exactly how much this averages per week, but I try to get as much writing time as I can.


Question Five: What was the path that led you to publication?

I brought the draft for my first novel, THE DOG IN THE WOOD, to a Whole Novel Workshop at Boyds Mills led by Carolyn Coman. With her guidance I was able to make it into a manuscript that a publisher wanted to buy.


Question Four: Do you believe writers are born, taught or both? Which was true for you?

I was certainly not born to be a writer. When I grew up in Germany the common belief was that writing was a gift that certain people had and if you didn’t have it there was no hope for you. I loved to read and thought that those people who could put these stories on pages had to be touched by some kind of magic. So I was surprised to discover my own interest in writing when I was almost 40 years old. Maybe there is some inherent gift but in order to become a good writer one also needs to practice a lot.


Question Three: What is your favorite thing about writing? What is your least favorite thing?

I love it when towards the end of the writing process the story falls into place, when somehow the book is finished and seems good. My least favorite times are those stretches during the revision process when I know something isn’t right yet, but I can’t name exactly what the problem is. Then I try to force it from the story, but that never works as I have to wait until the solution gives itself to me. And I am not good at waiting.


Question Two: What one bit of wisdom would you impart to an aspiring writer? (feel free to include as many other bits of wisdom as you like)

Read, read, and read! And read some more!

If you want to write a book of a particular genre read about one hundred books of that same genre. Analyze them, imitate them. That’s how you learn.


Question One: If you could have lunch with any writer, living or dead, who would it be? Why?

I would like to have lunch with President Obama, who is also a writer. His wonderful wife Michelle could come too. I have lots of questions, but I also think they would just be real pleasant company.

www.monikaschroeder.com

Book of the Week: SARASWATI'S WAY by Monika Schroder

Oh my goodness, Esteemed Reader. Through sheer dumb luck I have managed to land interviews with two of my favorite middle grade authors from my childhood. I’m not going to tell you their names (where’s the fun in that), but you would know them if I did because they've each been on the scene long enough to have written classic middle grade books and odds are pretty good you've read at least one of each of their works. I’m thrilled every time a writer is gracious enough to appear here, but it’s especially exciting when the author is one I've adored since I was the target audience for middle grade novels.

Monika Schroder is not a favorite author from my childhood. Saraswatti’s Way was only published last year, so she will have to settle for being a favorite author from my adulthood:) Her novel is amazing and not to be missed. Monika Schroder will be here Thursday to face the 7 Questions, which I’m also very excited about and you will be too when I tell you about her book. And none other than Jennifer Laughran will be our Saturday Literary Agent. All in all, it’s nothing but good times ahead of us, Esteemed Reader, and it all starts today.

At one point, Akash, the hero of Saraswati's Way, is asked what it's like to read by one of many illiterate boys he meets and he replies: “It’s like going to different places without leaving where you are." Esteemed Reader, I cannot think of a finer way to describe Saraswati’s Way to you. This book is a portal to another world not often seen in American fiction, the world of India through the eyes of a peasant child. It’s a world that will equally tantalize and haunt you.

Like many Americans, I’ll admit the Ninja is woefully ignorant of other cultures and my knowledge of India comes mostly from Slumdog Millionaire, Apu from The Simpsons, and Karl Pilkington’s journey to the Taj Mahal on An Idiot Abroad. I have Indian friends, but they've been Americanized. If you’re an American who is already very familiar with India and its culture, you’re still going to love Saraswati’s Way because at its heart it’s a great story well told. But for the ignorant, such as myself, it is fascinating to have this opportunity to learn more about Indian culture and social rules wrapped around a compelling story.

From a craft perspective, Saraswatti’s Way is a great example about how to write about setting and how the choice of setting informs every aspect of the story. If you’re a science fiction writer describing other worlds, or a small town Indiana boy like me writing about small town Indiana, Monika Shroder is a wonderful world builder and her work is worth studying. 

See how she delivers exposition about culture we need to know to understand the story without ever interrupting the story. To even understand the title, you need to know that Saraswatti is the Indian goddess of knowledge and to know the importance of religion in Indian culture.To better illustrate, here is what Akash's father tells him early in the story:

“Son, you are just as willful as your mother. She always wanted to change things for the better. She argued even with your Dadima.” Bapu shook his head slowly. “Nothing changes because of our doing. It’s all in the hands of the gods.”

And that is what twelve-year-old Akash is up against: a stubborn belief by everyone around him that “that’s just the way it is; some things will never cha-a-a-ange.” Akash is a member of a poor farming family and it is his destiny to receive the minimum amount of education and then to become a poor farmer amassing debt he can never pay off. 

But Akash dreams of being able to go to a proper school and to get a proper education and to rise out of the poverty he was born into. If he can only get the money for a tutor, he can study and perhaps earn a scholarship. His family, however, has no intention of wasting good money on knowledge because as his grandmother most colorfully puts it: 

"Why teach a bucket to sing? He doesn't need to go to school past seventh standard.”

I can’t decide whether I should compare Saraswati’s Way to a fairy tale or to the work of Charles Dickens. Both would be apt comparisons and it won’t surprise me one bit to see Saraswati’s Way become a new middle grade classic as word of mouth spreads about what a fantastic book this is. I would personally like to put a copy in the hands of every American child attending school and eating three meals a day because, perhaps the Ninja is getting old, but these kids today don’t know how lucky they are. Reading about Akash’s predicament may remind them.

Every August a fever comes to Akash’s village after the wet season and people die—I can’t even imagine living in a place like that. At the start of the book, the fever claims Akash’s father, who is moved to the ground to be in contact with the earth when he dies. I’m not sure what the significance of this is as it was not touched on in Karl Pilkington’s journey, but it’s one of the many fascinating tidbits about Indian culture I picked up reading this book. 

His father dead, Akash’s fate is in his grandmother’s hands. His death combined with a poor crop leaves the family in a terrible bind and they will soon lose their home if they cannot pay off their rent debt. Thus, Akash’s grandmother sends him to work in a child labor camp.

Akash is good with numbers and he soon figures out that at the interest rate his family is being charged, he will never pay off the debt. He will forever be a slave without an education. So Akash hops a train and sets out on his own on an adventure through India. 

There is never a point in the story when Akash is not in conflict. He is a strong protagonist with a sympathetic goal beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish, and the tyranny of evil men (and yes, I did just drop that Pulp Fiction reference in a blog about children’s literature). This is the stuff of great storytelling.

I’m not sure if there is such a thing as edgy middle grade, but if there is, last week’s The Underneath is edgy, and Saraswati’s Way certainly is. Personally, I've come to resent the term “children’s fiction” and would like to see it referred to as family fiction. We have family films. The main characters in ET: The Extra Terrestrial are children, and yet that is a “family film” loved by children and adults alike. I have no doubt that Saraswati’s Way will be loved by children, but Schroder clearly intends for it to be read by adults as well, which would explain the inclusion of this scene:

It was tempting to go with the only person he knew in Delhi. Akash had no clear idea what he would do when he arrived at the train station. But Lal Singh stared at him the way a cat looked before it pounced on a mouse. Akash could feel Lal Singh’s damp hand on the small of his back, slowly moving closer toward his buttocks.

Children may likely read right over this scene without picking up on Lal Singh’s sinister motives for inviting Akash to stay with him, but adults won’t. So why include it if not for adult readers? What mother could read this story and not have fear for twelve-year-old Akash alone on the streets of India tripled? 

They have nasty, awful folks in India just like they do here and a child alone is a child who may be approached by predators. And India doesn’t even have Chris Hansen and the crew of To Catch a Predator. The inclusion of Lal Singh is dealt with quickly and the story moves on, which is good, because even when handsome Chris Hansen is hosting, this stuff is nothing to dwell on and not what Saraswati’s Way is about. Lal Singh is simply another point of conflict emphasizing how alone Akash is on his journey.

Lal Singh is also, sigh, realistic. It’s not a pretty world out there, Esteemed Reader, and it’s no place for a child to have to survive on his own. But children do it here and in even greater numbers in parts of India. Akash isn't going to tour a chocolate factory. His story is meant to be real and to invoke reader sympathy for him and the other kids in India in situations similar to or worse than his. I

’m not going to spoil the whole book for you, but Akash later gets involved with drug dealers and other nasty characters. Here is a particularly poignant scene that haunts me and I think will give you a nice preview of what to expect in the darker parts of Saraswati’s Way (remember, all of these characters are children):

“What are they doing? Akash asked. He noticed a sharp smell, like gasoline.
“They are sniffing,” Rohit answered.
“Sniffing what?”
“E-Raze! Cor-rec-tion fluid,” Deepak answered, his voice slurred. “Even cheaper than glue. Same effect. Ahhhh!” He had lowered the rag.
“You want some? I have glue.” Madhup offered Akash a small plastic bottle and his rag.
“No, thank you!” Akash turned to Rohit. “What does it do to them?”
“It makes them crazy,” he answered.
“No, it makes us happy and not hungry!” Deepak called.
“It lets us forget things,” Madhup added.
“After a while it ruins their brains. It is very dangerous,” Rohit said.

But I don’t want you to go saying, “Saraswati’s Way? Some blogger said it was depressing.” That’s not true. Saraswati’s Way is actually a hopeful and uplifting book. I’m really not going to spoil it, but just trust me. And as for the dark stuff… 

You remember the end of The Color Purple when Celi finally gets to hug Netti and her son and her daughter and even Sophia is happy and it’s just the happiest scene ever and the audience cries happy tears? That scene is happy directly in proportion to how unhappy the journey of Ceili is prior to it. And if you haven’t seen The Color Purple, go rent it.

I see we are clearly out of time, and yet I have one more passage to share with you. I’m going to keep harping on this idea for “family” books rather than “children’s” books for several posts to come, but there is no reason a story about children can’t include as much complexity as a story about adults. To prove it, here is a symbolic passage to serve as a metaphor for the children of India that even Nathanial Hawthorne would approve of:

The pigeons continued their fight close to the edge of the roof, each of them holding one end of the bread in its beak. One bird spread its wings, trying to lift the bread and fly, but the second pigeon ripped the chapatti apart with a sudden jerk, causing both of them to lose the bread. The pieces fell to the courtyard below.

And that’s it for another week, Esteemed Reader. Come back on Thursday to see Monika Schroder face the 7 Questions and on Saturday to see Jennifer Laughran do the same. And definitely come back next week as I've got the first of two big surprises planned for you. And now, as always, I will leave you with some of my favorite passages from Saraswati’s Way:

Wanting was just another kind of hunger, burning until satisfied.


Their bare branches ended in thick knobs held upward like the fists of angry men.


Pain flooded Akash like blood soaking a cloth.


The throw of her sari covered Aunt Kamla’s face, but her words shot through the fabric like a camel’s spit.


Heavy from exhaustion, he slowly curled up like a cashew.


The color and consistency of the man’s skin reminded Akash of potatoes.

STANDARD DISCLAIMER: Book of the Week is simply the best book I happened to read in a given week. There are likely other books as good or better that I just didn’t happen to read that week. Also, all reviews here will be written to highlight a book’s positive qualities. It is my policy that if I don’t have something nice to say online, I won’t say anything at all (usually). I’ll leave you to discover the negative qualities of each week’s book on your own.