Violet and Jobie In the Wild. Lynne Rae Perkins. 2022. [September] 240 pages. [Source: Library]
First sentence: The SNAP! of the cheese game was frightening if you weren’t expecting it. Or even if you were. Violet and Jobie stuffed tissue into their ears. Together they lifted the snapping pole, then moved into their assigned places: Jobie crouching in front, Violet reaching up behind him.
Premise/plot: After Violet and Jobie are caught, these brother-sister mouse siblings are released in the wild. Before, nature was something that they watched on the television screen, not something that they actually experienced. But now that they are in the wild, they have to find a way to survive. Not just against the elements, but against predators as well. These two find a great friend in Zolian (I believe I have the name right; I didn't write it down in my notes). With a little help from an older--much older--and wiser--much wiser mouse, these two may be able to live out their lives. But being a mouse is always risky.
My thoughts: My favorite thing about Violet and Jobie was the narrative. I loved the writing. I enjoyed the characterization. It is--in my opinion--a bittersweet novel. But if you enjoy animal fantasy OR coming of age novels OR novels with a Kate DiCamillo touch, then this one should be one you consider. I absolutely loved, loved, loved parts of this one.
Quotes:
Let’s go toward the sun,” she said. “At least we’ll be going in a straight line.”
And so, they did.
They
couldn’t always see the sun, but they could see the shadows, and then
guess where the sun was. For quite a long time, they made their way
silently. Sometimes they clambered over a boulder or skirted a puddle.
After each obstacle, they checked to see where the light was, and where
there was shadow. And then they continued on, as lost in their own
thoughts as they were in this world. Violet’s
thoughts bounced all around. She thought about cheese, and where and
whether it could be found in this strange place. She thought about their
mother and father and brothers and sisters and aunts and uncles and
cousins, who would be wondering where they were.
“It’s not going to be a human house,” he said. “There are no human houses here.”
“I know that,” she said. “But—”
“But what?” asked Jobie.
The
truth was, Violet didn’t know But what. She was going through a
process. She was getting used to an idea. The idea that life was going
to be different now.
The first hollow they
looked at (that didn’t smell of fox) seemed unbearably primitive.
Horrible. And they were all much the same after that. But she began to
notice slight differences: how this one felt sort of cozy. How this
other one had a good view. How the next one had an alcove, almost an
extra room. She knew she was going to have to settle for something soon. They
stopped to rest and get a drink of water at the edge of a pond. As she
wiped her mouth with her paw, which was now muddy so of course she had
to then rinse it off and wipe her face again, Violet surveyed the scene.
Trees, trees, trees. And rocks. Mud and dirt. She glared at the trees.
And the rocks, the mud, and the dirt.
And then he couldn’t remember what he was trying to
remember. Oh, yes—the familiar flavor. But he couldn’t even taste it
anymore. It had blended in with the rest of his mouth.
“Let it go,” he told himself as he drowsed off once more. “You’ll figure it out tomorrow.”
Which,
in a way, was an answer to the question what does it taste like?
Because if there was going to be a tomorrow, what it tasted like was
hope.
And then another mouse, Bear (Because he was big and burly. For a
mouse.), explained an even more complicated game where a mouse pretended
to be another animal that was pretending to be even another animal, and
they had to guess both. To demonstrate, Bear pretended to be a bee
pretending to be a snake. It was almost impossible to act out, and even
harder to guess, but they all laughed so hard they couldn’t see
straight. Tears of laughter streamed down their cheeks.
“Jobie is right,” she murmured as she hurried down the
tree and into the connecting burrow. “I will be fine. I will be fine. I
will be fine.
“I will be alone and miserable,
but fine.” She laughed. And when you hear yourself laugh, that’s when
you know that you really will be fine. Eventually. Maybe even sooner.
Violet
hummed a little as she searched the tunnels and chambers of Zolian’s
abode. He didn’t seem to be in any of the usual spots, but with Zolian,
this was not unusual. She called out his name and was impressed by the
cheeriness of her own voice.
“Good job, Violet,”
she said. She called out again and listened for a response, but heard
nothing. She began to worry. Until she remembered that the day before,
Zolian had told her about the migration of the sandhill cranes.
“It’s
really something to see,” he had said. “I came upon it in my rambling
days, and I still like to make the pilgrimage. They are very large
birds, and thousands of them lift up and fly all at once. Really
heart-stopping.
Her courage flagged. She had been quite brave, she thought.
“How many times do I have to be brave?” she asked. She knew the answer: At least one more time. Always one more time.
“I don’t want to,” she said.
It’s
scary when you don’t know what to do. But if you can think of one or
two things that you do know how to do, and then do them, that can help.
© 2022 Becky Laney of Young Readers
