Einstein: Visionary Scientist by John B. Severance; Clarion Books: New York, 1999; $15 To most kids, Einstein: Visionary Scientist would seem like “a book about some dead guy whose ideas I don’t understand.” At first, I was too busy thinking about writing this review to have any opinion on this book. Once I was into the book, I forgot about the review and enjoyed the story immensely. I was surprised to discover that Albert was a slow learner, and that he had a ferocious temper. This was something I could relate to. When I was in elementary school I lagged behind the others in my class. My frustration lead me to have a bad temper. However, my temper was pint-sized compared to Albert’s tantrums. Once, he just missed his sister Maja with a bowling ball. Another time, he hit his sister with the handle of a garden hoe. Even on my worst days, I never threw a bowling ball. Something I didn’t know was that Albert took violin lessons. I took violin lessons too, but I never had a lesson like Albert’s. On his first lesson he threw a chair at his teacher. That nasty disposition again! Two other things about Albert’s education surprised me. One, he was a dreamy student. He was oblivious to the world around him and was lost in his own scientific thoughts. I also am like that sometimes, I get lost in my own world. The other was that he flunked all of his subjects except math and physics. I was amazed because I thought that smart people were good in everything. Albert’s principal once said, “It doesn’t matter how we teach him, he’ll never amount to anything anyway.” He was obviously wrong! Another way that Albert and I are alike: we both like to write papers on our ideas. Years later when he was at the peak of his popularity, he would tour all over, and speak of his theories he had written about. I found it interesting that he was booed at some lectures; I guess there were people who just didn’t understand his ideas. I don’t totally agree with Albert’s pacifist views. I enjoy studying about war and the armed forces. I think the reason for this difference is that he was a Jew during Hitler’s reign over Europe, whereas I have never been that close to war and have always known freedom. The author, John B. Severance, did a remarkable job of making Einstein’s difficult ideas understandable. If you had to do a school project on a famous scientist, this would be an excellent reference book to use. It demonstrates that although this is a book about the smartest guy in the world, you, too, can understand Albert Einstein. This is a really great book that I’d recommend to anyone, especially if you’ve ever been misunderstood or not liked. It shows you that even if you are picked on or put down, as long as you keep trying you will never be a failure. Who knows, you might be the next smartest person in history. Casey Pelletier, 13Telford, Pennsylvania
Book-Reviews
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town
When Zachary Beaver Came to Town by Kimberly Willis Holt; Henry Holt and Company: New York, 1999; $16.95 Has a trailer from nowhere with a 300-pound boy inside ever pulled up in front of your local grocery store? That’s exactly what happened in When Zachary Beaver Came to Town. When I first picked up this book I found it only slightly entertaining, but as I read on I became very involved and couldn’t put it down. In the book, a 300-pound boy, Zachary Beaver, is brought to Antler, Texas, in a trailer pulled by his legal guardian, Paulie, who charges people two dollars for a look at Zachary—a one-man freak show, “The Fattest Boy in the World.” At first everyone in the town stays away from Zachary because he is different, and in a small town like Antler, different is bad. Zachary’s situation reminded me of a kid at an acting camp I knew who everyone made fun of— just because he was fat. Even though I’d never talked to him, I knew on the inside he was probably a great guy and I felt really sorry for him. I watched this boy sit by himself and draw—he was a great drawer—and I started talking to him some. Whenever somebody is different, people often stay away from them, but in some cases they get used to them and then, in a way, befriend them. I guess that’s what I did. And that’s what happened with Zachary. Toby and Cal, two best friends in Antler—Toby being the slightest bit more mature—stay away from Zachary at first but after a while decide to help Zachary have some fun. They have Cal’s older sister, who just learned to drive, take them and Zachary to a drive-in movie by building stairs in the back of the truck so he could get out. He was too fat to get out of the trailer otherwise. They even fulfill Zachary’s dream to be baptized. Zachary wanted to be baptized because that was his mom’s dream for him before she died. When she died, he went to her funeral, but there was such a crowd staring at him (because of his weight) that he wouldn’t get baptized. In the end, the Bowl-a-Rama owner, Ferris, who was almost a preacher, baptizes Zachary. Eventually, the people of Antler got used to Zachary being there, and they start to feel sorry for him, and would even leave him food on his door step and run away. The book has a selection of everything from tragedy to even a little romance between the prettiest girl in town and Toby. But the main point of the book, and the part I liked best, was the way the author showed the many ways that people learn to live with and actually like strangers. This is probably a common experience, much like another one of my experiences with a Turkish boy who was in my third-grade class. He was made fun of because of his name, Bilge, and because of his personality. Over the year, I learned to like him a lot, even though no one else did, probably because my personality was more like his than the other boys in my class. I keep asking my mom how we can find Bilge in Turkey, because I miss him, but all we know about him is his first name. Probably the saddest part of the book, and another feeling that I’ve had some experience with, was when Cal’s older brother, Wayne, who everyone likes, is fighting in the Vietnam War and near the end, dies. Before Wayne dies, Toby writes him a letter pretending to be Cal, because Cal never returned any of Wayne’s letters to him because he was too lazy. When Cal figures this out, it threatens their friendship. I can’t relate to that but my friend can. Once I told him a secret and he, not thinking, told someone else, causing me to be very upset. In the end, it all turned out all right. He apologized and the secret didn’t cause too much harm. As for what happens to Cal and Toby’s friendship, well, you’ll just have to read the book to find out. Eli Black, 9Austin, Texas
The Dancer Who Flew: A Memoir of Rudolf Nureyev
The Dancer Who Flew: A Memoir of Rudolf Nureyev by Linda Maybarduk; Tundra Books: Toronto, 1999; $18.95 When I was nine years old, I was in a musical at the local university in my town, the University of Michigan. My friends in the cast and I would stand in the wings and watch the dancers onstage, awed by the gracefulness and majesty they created. We would try to imitate the dances backstage, trying to get every lift and every spin just right. The dances were incredibly difficult for people of our age and size, but somehow we managed to do all of them. There was one lift I did where I would actually fly through the air like a bird. Once I was so overcome I fell on the ground laughing with delight. I’ve read many books about dance, but this is the only one I have ever read that captures the passion of dance. I expected another book listing dates of famous dances and who played what role. Instead I received an emotional book which reflected my own feelings for dancing, and which made me want to throw down the book and dance. The Dancer Who Flew: A Memoir of Rudolf Nureyev by Linda Maybarduk is a biography of Rudolf Nureyev, who changed dancing forever. Linda Maybarduk was Rudolf’s personal friend, so she told a lot about her own experiences with him, which made the book much more personal and touching. Rudolf grew up in the communist country of Russia, where his family was struggling to make ends meet. For much of his childhood, his father was away at war, so his mother had to work twice as hard. While his father was away, Rudolf discovered dancing when his mother took him to a ballet on New Year’s Eve. From then on he became obsessed with ballet. Rudolf’s father was not at all supportive of his son’s dreams and ambitions when he returned from the war. So on his own money and willpower, Rudolf auditioned for the Leningrad Ballet School in Russia and made it. While he was at the Leningrad Ballet School, Rudolf and his friends would sneak out of the school late at night and dance. They would chase each other around trying to jump faster, higher, or farther than the other. This was my favorite part of the book because the author expresses their love for dance so wonderfully that I could so easily imag- me three excited teenagers running around Leningrad dancing and laughing. What I loved about the book was that it was so clear that this man was born to perform and loved every minute on stage. I could relate to this so well that sometimes I had to put down the book to think about my own experiences on stage. The author expressed how nervous he was before he went on stage, but then when he was there, he felt perfectly at home and happy. I’ve felt the same way, so overwhelmed I want to burst. When you know you are doing well and you are making people happy, it is the most effervescent and wonderful feeling. I could tell that Rudolf felt the same way, and I felt almost a connection to him, even though I never met him. Rudolf often talked about the invisible energy that propelled him through so many performances, even years after he should have retired. I, too, have felt that same invisible energy and passion that draws me back to the stage time and time again. It’s really very simple. Despite hard work, performing is one of the best things on earth. Marit Rogne, 12Ann Arbor, Michigan
