1971 Newbery Medal and Honor Books

Medal Winner

By: Betsy Byars

The Summer of the Swans
NOT REVIEWED

The orange sneakers were typical of her mood. One minute Sara had been rather fond of them. The next she detested them, thought them as gross as her enormous feet, her impossible body, her ridiculous hair. And that was how it had been all summer. The elation of one moment would give way to tears the next, with no warning, for no reason.

What had changed in her, Sara did not know. Surely not her grudging tolerance of Aunt Willie, or her affectionate envy of her pretty older sister; and certainly not her tender, wordless love for Charlie, her mentally retarded younger brother. Yet Sara’s moods were as unaccountable as the sudden appearance of the swans— the swans which so fascinated Charlie as he watched them glide silently about the lake.

Then, during the night, Charlie disappeared . . . and Sara's own small miseries were left behind as she searched the dense woods and rough fields, numb with terror for Charlie, who wandered somewhere, lost, helpless, bewildered. In her anguish Sara turned to Joe Melby—whom she had despised only the day before— and together they found him. The longest day of that summer was over, and Sara knew that she would never again be quite the same.

Those who have read The Midnight Fox know how well Betsy Byars writes about young people at odds with themselves and the world. Here, in the warm, humorous, poignant story of a difficult fourteenth summer, she portrays her characters with delicate, unerring artistry.

From the dust jacket

Enchantress From the Stars

By: Sylvia Louise Engdahl

Honor

Reviewed by: Sara Masarik
Also read and recommended by: Lara Lleverino, Sarah Kim, Sherry Early, Tanya Arnold

While I appreciate some science fiction (like Contact) and some fantasy (like Elantris), I would not say that either of those genres makes up a substantial part of my reading diet. When written elegantly and with complex philosophical themes, I appreciate them in much the same way I appreciate any excellent literature. Just as I truly love Jane Austen novels,  but don’t care much for most “romance” books, I appreciate Enchantress From The Stars by Sylvia Louise Engdahl without loving the vast majority of science fiction or fantasy. For this reason, I often tell friends that this book is science fiction for Jane Austen lovers.

This complex and fascinating story about human nature, relationships, and man’s desire to live a life worth living is written with beautiful language, powerful character development, and a plot that is truly interesting to explore. This book may have a sci-fi background, but it is really much more like Ivanhoe than it is Star Wars. This story begs to be re-read and rewards the reader each time.

Knee Knock Rise

By: Natalie Babbitt

Honor

Reviewed by: Sherry Early
Recommended age: 12+

So, Knee-Knock Rise by Natalie Babbitt, also author of Tuck Everlasting, is a fairy tale about the necessity of mystery and belief in the supernatural. It’s also about the distinction between foolish credulity and wisdom. But I’m not at all sure that the questions raised in the story are ever settled.

Egan, the protagonist of the story, longs to know for sure whether the beastly Megrimum lives at the top of Knee-Knock Rise. Some say he certainly does, and the villagers who live below the rise cherish their shivery, scary stories of the Megrimum and his ghostly power. Egan’s Uncle Ott explains away the evidence for the Megrimum with scientific facts and figures. Uncle Anson says, “The only thing that matters is whether you want to believe he’s there or not. And if your mind is made up, all the facts in the world won’t make the slightest difference.”

Some reviewers think this book is anti-religious, or at least questioning religion, but I think it can be read as anti-scientism. Perhaps we all believe what we want to believe.

Sing Down the Moon

By: Scott O'Dell

Honor
NOT REVIEWED

The spring that came to the Canyon de Chelly in 1864 was abundant, for the fields and orchards of the Navahos who lived there promised a rich harvest. The sheep were lambing, and the sky was bright blue against the red buttes of the canyon. It was a time of expectation. But all was shattered first when the Spanish slavers came and later when the white soldiers burned the crops, destroyed the fruit trees, and forced the Navahos of the canyon to join their Indian brothers on the devastating long march to Fort Sumner.

Through the eyes of Bright Morning, a young Navaho girl, we see what can happen to human beings when they are uprooted from the life they know. She tells the story of the proud and able Tall Boy, the youth she expects to marry, who is maimed not only by a physical wound but a spiritual wound as well. And she tells of the other men of the tribe who lose their will along with their way of life.

SING DOWN THE MOON is a book written in the cadent prose readers have come to expect from Scott O’Dell, winner and two-time runner-up for the coveted Newbery Medal. It is a story with tragic overtones, a story of the breaking of the human spirit. And yet, fortunately, then, as now, there were a few possessed of an inner strength based on hope; Bright Morning was one of these.

From the dust jacket