A Crooked Kind of Perfect
posted in humor, middle grades, realistic fiction, book review, children's literature |
“Nobody wears socks anymore,” I tell her.
“Not even in Michigan? In March? When there’s still snow on the ground?”
“Nobody.”
“You wear socks,” Mom says.
“Exactly,” I say.
Zoe Elias wears socks, but she’s also unique in other ways. She’s possesses big dreams, but she lacks a best friend. She wants a piano, but she owns an organ. Her mother is a workaholic controller, and her father is a full-time student of Living Room University (he has earned twenty-six framed diplomas from courses such as Golden Gloves: Make a Mint Coaching Boxing and Rolling in Dough: Earn a Dolla’ Baking Challah). In attempts at normalcy and in hopes of developing her latent prodigy skills so that she can one day fulfill her destiny of playing at Carnegie Hall, she requests that her parents purchase her a piano.
Zoe’s father, being a tad on the socially inept side, gets sucked in by the rhythms and beats of the organ, and he winds up buying Zoe a Perfectone D-60 instead of a baby grand. Zoe soon discovers that she may not quite be a prodigy, but, as her instructor Miss Person puts it, “You have some talent and you work hard. I’ll take that over prodigy any day.” Miss Person (that’s Per-saaahn) is full of such tidbits of wisdom as well as delightful exclamations such as Mozart’s postman, Chopin’s toaster, and Beethoven’s barbershop.
In her infinite wisdom, Miss Person recommends that Zoe go to the Perfectone Perform-O-Rama, and Zoe sets out to select her piece. Zoe aptly chooses “Forever in Blue Jeans” to be her Perform-O-Rama piece, and she spends a few weeks practicing while her father and a schoolmate cook away in the kitchen working through the Rolling in the Dough class.
As the Perform-O-Rama competition draws near, Zoe’s mother’s work interferes so that Zoe is left without a ride to the competition. Her father, however, decides to move outside his comfort zone (i.e., outside the house) and take Zoe to the Perform-O-Rama.
Her father is forced into motion, but so too is Zoe. Learning to play the Perfectone D-60 and entering the Perform-O-Rama take Zoe on a journey through which she discovers more about herself and about what is important to her. She makes a new friend in Wheeler Diggs, realizes that everybody makes mistakes, and uncovers courage she did not know she had.
Zoe comes to understand that there is more to music than merely getting the notes right–it takes heart. “Getting the heart right is something only a person can do. And the ways to do it are as many and as different as there are people in the world.” Zoe and her family may have their quirks, but they also have their talents and a profound love for each other.
In this quick and delightful read, Urban slips in some commentary on shallow friends, consumerism and brand name ludicrousness (e.g., Brat clothing: “Why would you wear something that says you are spoiled and mean?”), and the importance of family support. Each page offers a fresh insight or a humorous vignette. Urban’s work is a winner for music lovers, dreamers, perfectionists, and humor lovers alike as well as for anyone who agrees that life is richer when you mix a little bit of off-center into a perfectly proportioned recipe.
Favorite lines:
Never trust an exclamation point.
You must have more respect for your instrument. Or your instrument will have no respect for you.
Perfection itself is imperfection
Related Links:
Author Interview: Linda Urban at Becky’s Book Reviews
Linda Urban’s Website and Linda Urban’s Live Journal: Crooked Perfect
