Children's Book Review: The Year the Swallows Came Early

The Year the Swallows Came Early by Kathryn Fitzmaurice (Bowen/HarperCollins, $16.99, 970061624971/0061624977, 288 pp., ages 9-12, February 2009)

One of the greatest reasons for being in the book business is to discover a completely original voice. The other is to put that voice into as many readers' hands as possible. This is one of those voices--that of 11-year-old narrator Eleanor Robinson, named for her great-grandmother, a science-fiction writer, who goes by the nickname Groovy. Everyone should have a Groovy in their circle of friends. As this debut novel begins, Groovy must come to grips with some harsh realities: she may live in "a perfect stucco house, just off the sparkly Pacific," but appearances are deceiving. In fact, her house "was like one of those See's candies with beautiful swirled chocolate on the outside," but "coconut flakes on the inside, all gritty and hard, like undercooked white rice." In the first chapter, Groovy's father gets arrested, right there in front of the Swallow's Shop and Ferry, as the two of them walk into town. Groovy has no idea why he was arrested, though she knows "Daddy seemed to get the kind of bosses who ended up firing him," and she knows her friend Frankie doesn't quite approve of Daddy. But when Groovy tells Mama, and Mama says that she's the one who called the police, Groovy must rethink everything. (That's the second chapter.)

Fitzmaurice perfectly captures a small California town where everyone knows everyone else's business. But this gifted first-time author also uses that setting as a foil for the many discoveries Groovy makes. No one is quite what he or she seems to be. What Groovy learns about her father may be a disappointing surprise, but she also learns some unexpected things about the wisdom and strength of her Mama, who owns a quarter of the town's beauty parlor, about classmate Marisol Cruz, who seemed like she "wasn't the nicest girl" but who comes through for Groovy not once but twice, and about even Mr. Tom the homeless man, who gives Groovy a mysterious message that ultimately helps her make sense of her rapidly unraveling world. Eleanor "Groovy" Robinson's passion for cooking, for nourishing others and for constantly seeking to improve her recipes, her home life and her town results in a bounty of alluring sights, smells and tastes. (Chocolate-covered strawberries serve as a crucial plot element--do make sure you've eaten a good meal before reading, or keep snacks handy.) Fitzmaurice possesses a rare gift for keeping the narrative entirely and credibly in the mind of her sixth-grade heroine ("I remembered when Mama and Daddy and I took a week off to drive to the Grand Canyon, so I could see more of the world, and they could get away from it all") as Groovy gains the maturity that comes from surviving seemingly unsustainable pain.--Jennifer M. Brown