Orphan Island

I originally discovered this book in a Little Free Library and was so intrigued by the synopsis on the back that I spent my lunch breaks devouring it. That an adult would look forward to getting to jump back into this world on the island is a testament to the author’s ability to portray her imagination in written word on the page. I could visualize every detail. I was intrigued by every mysterious finding. For a coming-of-age novel, this was the most innocent and darling story that I’ve ever encountered. Most coming-of-age stories jump into subject matter well beyond the characters’ experience and can often leave readers feeling squirmy and uncomfortable. Is this really what growing up has to be about? This story is the opposite of that. It draws you in with grace and innocence. Every child who is about to finish elementary school or just starting middle school should read this story. I made teenager and my 4th grader read it, and they were fascinated. And we’ve bought it as a birthday gift for every one of their friends this year. I can’t wait to read more by this gifted author.

It's one of the most readable and appealing and best and most profound short novels I've ever read in my life.I am stunned. I read it on kindle & read just 1-2 pages a day, because I didn't want it to end.It is a fable more than a regular novel, a fable about life. More like The Alchemist, or The Giver, or The Lord of the Flies. And it's so unpretentious we may not see this at first, but it's a thousand times better. (No, I don't know the author, & had never heard of her.) A thousand times better because, no it's not a fable about a utopia that's really a dystopia (Giver) or evil in our hearts & human nature (Lord of the Flies).It's about life itself and why there has to be change and why there has to be death--open to an afterlife but death on earth -- and loss of loved ones-- so that older generations won't stick around in static endlessness forever but instead new life and lives come after, after the realities and rituals of loss and mourning which are inevitable too-- in successions of new births and new generations of our children and children's children and their children.The novel subtly shows and so that kids can understand too why we are here is a mystery and why in this mystery there has to be change and death and sadness so that our children and our new generations can come into being and eventually to replace us and to take over and have a chance to be born and themselves to live their lives. Again until they give birth to their own children and newer generations who will eventually replace them too, and with mourning too, and that it has to be, it's inevitable, and that even with the sadness it can't be any other way, and that time heals-- and meanwhile that there could be at least a possibility of an afterlife.These ares why this book is so profound, and a thousands times more so than many novels with fancier reputations like The Giver and Lord of the Flies. Please let's allow this short to middle-sized unpretentious novel, this addictively readable and astounding fable of life, achieve the reputation it hopefully soon will. For everyone, from middle grades to senior citizens. It comes as an eye-opener and a revelation. I'm thankful that I've had the good luck to read it.

This story spoke to me on multiple levels:1.) At its outermost superficial story level, the plot interested me from the start. The strange and solemn custom of saying goodbye -- possibly forever -- to the eldest of the islanders provided a gripping, emotional scene.2.) Just underneath the story arc, the character arc was convincing. Seeing nine children, each at a different point in his or her growth arc, provided a good sense of how quickly children grow, how quickly they change and adapt when put in extenuating circumstances. The fact that they also had varying personalities made them leap from the page, spiced up their interactions immensely. I also liked hearing about characters from the past, how previous islanders like Abby would try to send messages to the future. It was both primitive and resourceful at the same time, which made the mysteries that much more intriguing and page-turning.3.) A layer deeper, the concept of mentoring the young -- almost parenthood-like -- shone through the story in how Jinny must manage Ess and then Loo. It spoke to the difficulties of parenthood, how much is unforeseen, how exhausting and rewarding it can be all at once. The way Ess reacted to Loo, bonded with Sam, and other interactions seemed realistic for siblings that must cope with a parent's divided attention. It would have been nice to see how Deen interacted with Sam, but Jinny's journey definitely echoed some of the difficulties new parents often express.4.) The cycle of life -- how the old must leave and make way for the new, how the young must learn to leave the nest and find new friends when they outgrow their parents. The endless march of time. A lot of themes grew naturally from the premise of following rules, becoming self-sufficient and independent, learning on the fly, needing to bond with others of different ages and social ranks. I liked how Laurel Snyder was able to accomplish these relationships without resorting to bloodshed or fisticuffs (a.l.a Lord of the Flies).5.) The event-based structure of the chapters kept the pages turning. Every day seemed to present some new, imaginative challenge, each believable and self-contained, such as hunting for honey, reading books, venturing onto the cliffs, or catching an inkfish. Kudos to the author for coming up with believable characters and creatures, from the inkfish providing ink for writing and making references to famous books such as Harry Potter and James and the Giant Peach without directly mentioning them by name. Very well done!6.) Signs -- I liked how every sign could be interpreted or not interpreted, inviting the reader (along with Jinny) to make too much of some of the book's later events. For example, when the kids experience snow for the first time, we as readers almost want to see it as "the sky falling" like the nursery rhyme, but Jinny and Nat do a good job of noting that it's only a sign if you read it that way. In that sense, anything after Jinny's refusal to leave the island could be both a sign or a normal occurence, and that duality - the possibility of multiple readings - lent both insight and intrigue to the story's second half. In that sense, the book seemed both realistic -- something that nature could conceivably throw at the orphans -- and fantastic, in that unseen forces are trying to push for Jinny's departure.The main negatives that disrupted the reading were a strange baby-like language that Ess used, Loo's inhumane behavior tearing apart a sea star, and Jinny's incessant internal dialogue obsessing over Deen. It would have been nice if Ess didn't talk like such a baby (she's not that far removed from the elders, who speak normally), or if the author didn't constantly refer to Loo like a wild animal. Sometimes, it felt as if the story were being told from the viewpoint of a middle-aged mother, at least in how much surprise was interjected into describing Loo's child-like energy. Also, I wanted to look up to Jinny for her challenges raising Ess and fighting her own desire to stay, but her constant daydreaming of days past with Deen clouded the narrative and gave the story an unnecessarily wistful romantic feel.

A staggering book. Simply not to be missed.

Auf einer kleinen Insel mitten im Ozean leben seit unbestimmter Zeiten nur Kinder. Es sind immer neun, nie mehr, nie weniger, dies ist eines der Gesetze der Insel, das nicht verletzt werden darf. Einmal im Jahr ertönt am Strand der Gong - er kündigt das Kommen eines Bootes an, das, von niemandem gesteuert, einen kleinen Neuankömmling auf die Insel bringt. Im Austausch dafür steigt das älteste Kind in das Boot und treibt damit auf den Ozean hinaus. Das nächstfolgende Kind übernimmt die Ältestenrolle und wird Mentor und Erzieher des neuen Kindes. Niemand weiß, woher die Kinder kommen und wohin sie gehen, wenn ihre Zeit auf der Insel abgelaufen ist, Niemand hat jemals die Regeln der Insel hinterfragt.Aber dann ist Jinny an der Reihe, Älteste zu sein und sich um die kleine Ess zu kümmern. Jinny tut sich schwer mit ihrer "Mutterrolle", insbesondere damit, Ess die wichtigsten Fähigkeiten beizubrigen, die die Kinder lernen müssen: Schwimmen, Nahrung sameln und zubereiten - und Lesen. Sie ist auch die einzige, die Fragen stellt: was passiert mit den Ältesten, nachdem das Boot gekommen ist, sind die Kinder wirklich Waisen, wer hat sie auf die Insel geschickt, und wer war Abigail, eines der ersten Kinder, das hier gelebt hat, deren Name in all ihren hinterlassenen Büchern steht, dem einzigen Besitz der Kinder? Als für Jinny die Zeit kommt, in das Boot zu steigen und die Insel der Kindheit zu verlassen, weigert sie sich - was folgenschwere Auswirkungen auf das Leben der Kinder und auf die Insel selbst hat.Was mich an Laurel Snyders Metapher über die Kindheit vor allem fasziniert hat, war der Ort, die Insel selbst, und die Einfachheit des Lebens, das die Kinder führen. Die Kleidung, schlichte gewebte Tuniken, wird getragen, bis sie fast vom Leib fällt, die Kinder müssen alles, was sie zum täglichen Leben brauchen, selbst sammeln oder herstellen. Abigails Bücher werden, wenn sie vom vielen Gebrauch unleserlich geworden sind, im Sand begraben und leben von da an nur noch als Geschichten weiter. So ein Leben mit den nötigsten hat, zumidest wenn man darüber liest, durchaus seine Reize, und Begriffe wie Wertigkeit und Achtsamkeit kommen in den Sinn.Aber ist die Insel ein idyllischer Ort? Die Zeichnung vorne im Buch lässt kaum das Gefühl von Verwunschenheit oder exotischer Behaglichkeit aufkommen, und Abenteuer finden nicht statt in diesem Refugium der Kinder. Das ganze Leben auf der Insel ist, im Gegenteilt, darauf ausgerichtet, früh Verantwortung für andere zu übernehmen und sich auf das Erwachsenewerden vorzubereiten. Insofern ist die Insel, sind ihre ungeschriebenen Gesetze, so unerbittlich und unabwendbar wie das Ende der Kindheit selbst - und was das Erwachsenenleben in petto hält, ist ja tasächlich, aus Kinderperspektive, so ungewiss und so unbekannt wie eine Fahrt in einen steuerlosen Boot.Es bleiben übrigens sämtliche Fragen, die Jinny, die der Leser, sich stellt, auch am Schluss unbeantwortet. Das ist in dem ganzen Kontext nur folgerichtig und passt zum metaphorischen Charakter des Buches. Mit einer Ausnahme. Nicht ganz ins Bild passen will für mich die Geschichte um Abigail und ihre Bücher, einem Mädchen also, das ganz offensichtlich unter anderen Umständen auf die Insel gelangt ist als die späteren Bewohner, udn das sich, das wird im Laufe des Buches deutlich, auch an seine Mutter gut erinnern kann. Da kommen dann doch im Leser Spekulationen auf, wieso die Kinder, und vom wem, auf die Insel geschickt werden. Es bleibt - das führt hier zu einem Sternabzug - am Ende das Gefühl einer wunderschönen, nachdenklich machenden Geschichte, die aber nicht ganz rund ist. Oder sollte es vielleicht eine Fortsetzung geben, die von Abigail erzählt?

The book came in really good condition. And is exactly what the picture shows. The book is really good 😃 and has an almost mysterious element to it....but there are few un answered mysteries even when the book was done.

This book is part of a good stimulus to youth reading skills

We enjoyed this story, and the book arrived very quickly!