Every year, May is celebrated as AAPI Month in honor of the Asian American and Pacific Islanders who have contributed to the world. With popular reading platforms like Goodreads publishing lists of AAPI authors, the month has been a lovely whirlwind of new #ownvoices books topping my to-be-read list. Through it all, the one that has completely taken my breath away is a Korean-coded fantasy debut to the beat of Miyazaki’s Spirited Away. The gorgeous cover of Axie Oh’s The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea depicts Mina, a young girl whose role has never yet been the protagonist. The loveliest girl in her village is Shim Cheong, but Cheong’s beauty is as much of a blessing as it is a curse—every year, a girl bride is sacrificed to the Sea God in hopes of satiating the deadly storms that sweep the land. Legend says that only the Sea God’s true bride will calm the floods forever. Beautiful Cheong is set to be the annual sacrifice, but there is one problem: she loves Mina’s brother. To save her brother’s beloved, Mina jumps into the sea as a sacrifice instead, becoming the reckless heroine of her own story. In the watery depths, she enters the Spirit Realm, where spirits and creatures and gods abound. But nothing is as it seems. As Mina tries to figure out why the Sea God is causing so many storms in the human world, her soul is stolen. From there, Mina must venture through a world of magic and lost stories and vengeful gods to seek answers about the Sea God, lest she become a spirit forever. This book painted one of the lushest, most breathtaking settings I have ever had the pleasure to immerse myself in. Axie Oh brought the fascinating world of the Spirit Realm to life with such a detailed hand that I could feel the flurry of spirits, smell vendors’ candies and desserts, see the gilded palaces and gardens. I loved the Korean culture incorporated into the book, from the twist on the tale of Shim Cheong to the Red String of Fate. There was something about the aesthetic of the book that felt wholly comforting. Perhaps what I adored most were the themes. At first, I wasn’t sure how I felt about Mina; she seemed like yet another perfect Mary Sue heroine, the clean-cut selfless kind of girl about as real as a unicorn. As the book progressed, though, I began to see her flaws: her fear, her doubt, but her unwavering filial piety triumphing nevertheless. Mina stayed strong because of and for her family, which I deeply admired; it was steeped in the book’s Asian roots and ideologies, untarnished by romance or ulterior motives. Flashbacks to her grandmother’s wonder and storytelling ability were wonderfully written and executed. Even when Mina was struggling, she sought to comfort others and wove stories like her grandmother’s that were more magical than anything in the Spirit Realm. Mina was wise beyond her years and wielded her vulnerabilities like knives, which is the bravest thing of all. That said, there was romance in the book. Initially, I lamented the lack of chemistry between the main couple. After reading, however, I’ve come to view it as more of a meeting of souls than physical touch or grand acts. I think the two love interests’ personalities truly slotted together, their individual internal beauty translating into immense care for each other. There is a love triangle, but in its loosest definition—Oh explored romance in such an unconventional yet wholesome way. The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea featured the neglect of gods and the trenches of darkness between broken souls, but it also displayed the power that comes from weakness and how mere words can change the course of the world. It has earned its place as one of my comfort books and favorite books of all time. Oh has broken into the world of young adult fantasy with impeccable talent. I wish I had just one more page to spend with Mina and her friends and family, but in my heart, I know they ended up in exactly the right place. The Girl Who Fell Beneath the Sea by Axie Oh. Feiwel & Friends, 2022. Buy the book here and help support Stone Soup in the process!
Book Reviews
Look Both Ways: A Tale Told in Ten Blocks, Reviewed by Sita, 13
Jason Reynolds’ Look Both Ways: A Tale Told in Ten Blocks is, in its simplest form, a story about a walk home from school. But it is also a story about grief, growing up, facing your fears, chronic illness, divorce, bullying, and a school bus falling from the sky. The walk home is ten blocks, and each block is told from the perspective of a different kid on their walk home. Students at Latimer have a lot on their plate, with pressure at school and at home to be a certain way. The only time they can truly be themselves is on their walk home, and part of this is trying to figure out their relationship to their community. Although the premise sounds like it might set you up for quite a boring book, Look Both Ways is incredible. Every single child featured is completely different, yet they all are connected in one way or another. Each story revolves around connection and how it affects the children. Sometimes it is the connection between a child and their parents, sometimes it is a connection between peers who have endured similar hardships, sometimes it is good, and sometimes it is painful, but it is an integral part of each story, because the life of a middle schooler is all about connection. Middle school is a time of change, a machine whose input is drastically different from its output. It is one of the places that is guaranteed to produce a person that is wiser than they were when they first walked through those double doors. And this is because middle school students thrive on attachments. It is what influences their every action. All the things they do, all the things they say, it is all because of connection. Reynolds explores this point of view of adolescence by making readers of Look Both Ways realize why certain kids need to be funny, or be a bully, or steal, and why teens are the way that they are. Look Both Ways: A Tale Told in Ten Blocks by Jason Reynolds. Atheneum Books, 2020. Buy the book here and help support Stone Soup in the process!
Four Books and the Meaning of Normal: A Review of Out of My Heart, Wonder, The Thing About Georgie, and Freak the Mighty
Four novels, Out of My Heart by Sharon M. Draper, Wonder by R.J. Palacio, The Thing About Georgie by Lisa Graff, and Freak The Mighty by Rodman Philbrick, all include and think about characters who are different. For once, we are told that heroes don’t have to be perfect. We don’t have to use outcasts as props to make a hero look good – we don’t need to make them out to be helpless victims that need to be protected. They can be the main characters and the heroes, not just supportive characters lurking in the background. With characters we don’t usually see as main protagonists, these books are about acceptance, belonging, and being different. Out of My Heart by Sharon M. Draper circles around a girl named Melody, who has cerebral palsy and uses a wheelchair. In this sequel to Out of My Mind, Melody goes to summer camp for kids with disabilities. At camp, she plays balloon ball, swims, paints, rides a horse, and even goes on a zip-line, things she thought she’d never do before. Her counselor is kind, and all around her Melody sees walkers, wheelchairs, and much more. And most importantly, she makes friends. And though nobody can be exactly the same as her, she’s finally found people that accept her, and a place where she belongs. In Wonder by R.J. Palacio, Auggie is a boy with cleft palate and other facial differences that make him an outcast. People either think Auggie is a freak and that he’s disgusting or a poor child with a disability who needs pity. For these reasons, Auggie has been homeschooled by his protective parents who watch him constantly. But Auggie’s finally going to middle school, and though he tries to prove to others that he’s “normal,” nobody accepts him anyway. Friends can change to enemies quickly, and then back. People aren’t good or bad, they’re complicated, and this makes things confusing for Auggie. But through his troubles and challenges, he finds a group that lets him just be himself, not a category, and he decides not to be “normal.” Because why try to fit in when you can just be yourself with the right people? The Thing About Georgie by Lisa Graff is about a boy named Georgie who has dwarfism. Georgie’s middle name is Washington, and his idol is the founding father George Washington. But when he gets paired with Jeanie the Meanie for a history project, he is having trouble cooperating with her. She isn’t nice to him, and she signs him up for the school play about American presidents, but to play Abraham Lincoln! Abraham Lincoln was the tallest American president, and all of a sudden Georgie feels very, very short. On top of it all, his parents are going to have a baby, and Georgie is not excited to soon see his sibling outgrow him year by year and be able to do all the things that Georgie can’t. And Georgie’s friend Andy seems to be more involved with the new kid, Russ, than him. So, overall, Georgie’s problems are big. But when Georgie realizes that Jeanie the Meanie isn’t so bad and begins to resolve his problems with Andy, Georgie finds that he doesn’t have to be big to do big things, and that love doesn’t depend on size. True friends don’t care about what you look like. They appreciate you no matter what. In Freak the Mighty by Rodman Philbrick, Max is a boy who is tall for his age, in a special class at school, and thinks of himself as “stupid.” But Max discovers that he’s not stupid at all – he’s very smart, it’s just just nobody has realized it yet. When “Freak” – or Kevin, a former acquaintance of Max’s – moves into the neighborhood, Max learns that with Kevin’s imaginative, smart brain and Max’s large body, they can become “Freak the Mighty.” Together they go on rescue missions and adventures; they seem to be able to go anywhere they want to go. But Kevin isn’t fine, and neither is Max. Kevin’s health condition isn’t easy to deal with, and Max has problems with his father. But Max and Kevin are always there for each other. When many people say “disability” or “different,” they also say “how unfortunate.” They don’t see people like Melody, Auggie, Georgie, Max, and Kevin as individuals, they see them as nothing but handicaps. But Out of my Mind, Wonder, The Thing About Georgie, and Freak the Mighty allow us to see people who happen to have disabilities or are otherwise different for who they truly are: funny, intelligent, and caring friends who follow their own paths.
