JANE-EMILY by Patricia Clapp

October 29, 2015 |

I went into Jane-Emily not knowing what to expect. In part because the descriptions for this book are all over the map and none of them really get to the heart of what the book’s about. The other reason I didn’t know what to expect was that I am never quite sure how older horror in YA holds up. I knew that a book that was reissued decades after it came out meant that there was something to it, but I had no idea if it would fall into the genuinely creepy camp or would be more in the silly camp.

This falls squarely in the “holds up and is totally creepy” camp.

Liz has been sharing her chapter by chapter thoughts on this one. Go read them. She’s picked up on a number of things that I thought about as I was reading.

Rather than talk about what did and didn’t work in this book — for me, it was an all around winner in terms of working — what really captured my attention with this one was how it was framed and structured and whether or not a book like this would be considered YA today.

Louisa is our narrator, or at least, she’s the primary voice we hear through the story. She’s 18, and she’s been dating a boy for quite a while before she and her cousin Jane go spend a summer at Jane’s grandmother’s home. Understand that Jane has experienced a lot of loss and trauma in her life; this summer is meant to give her the opportunity to be a kid and enjoy her summer. Louisa agrees to go, even though she’s a bit more reluctant. She also reluctantly agrees to send and receive letters with her boyfriend who is far more attached to her than she is to him.

This seems to be Louisa’s thing, being somewhat distant.

The bulk of the story, though, focuses on Jane, who begins to see and experience strange sensations that she knows belong to the spirit of Emily. Emily was her grandmother’s daughter, and she was, as grandma and everyone else in the house continues to say, “a not good kid.” Emily “resides” in a mirror ball, and her spirit continues to reach out to little Jane. It’s creepy in an atmospheric, Shirley Jackson type way — it’s far more about what you don’t see than what you do see. It’s clear that Emily is haunting Jane, though I frequently wondered how much of that was a true spirit haunting her vs how much was Jane’s own trauma coming to haunt her. I think the fact you don’t ever REALLY know is the part that’s most chilling.

But back to Louisa. For being the main voice, we actually never get to know her, aside from the fact that she’s got this boyfriend who she seems distant from, and she’s been set up by her great aunt to meet a local doctor for potential dating purposes. Louisa’s not impressed with the doctor at first, but slowly, he begins winning her over, even though he speaks less-than-flatteringly of women. This book was set in the early 1900s, so pre-suffrage, but there’s little to no pushback on the doctor’s mentality by Louisa. I don’t think it’s because Louisa doesn’t have an opinion; rather, I think it’s because Louisa isn’t interested in telling her own story at all. She’s instead the vessel for Jane/Emily’s story.

This construction fascinates me. Being that Louisa is the teenager here and Jane is a mere 9 years old, it’s a little strange that this book is and was marketed for teenagers. The teenager in the story (the only teenager in the story!) is Louisa, but her story doesn’t matter at all. Rather, this is about the 9 year old, and this is the kind of book that would go over well with middle grade readers. Mary Hahn Downing fans would find a lot of good here.

I think this book would also do well with adult audiences in many ways. Ignoring the nostalgia factor, which is certainly important with this particular book and its potential audience, a lot of the way the book is written has appeal to adult readers who want a chilling story. There’s distance between subject and story, and there is a lot to dig up in terms of what was going on at this historical moment. Again, Liz has done a fabulous job pulling out the questions she’s had as an adult reader, including how old the characters were when big historical events were going on, as well as what was and wasn’t in fashion during this period. The ripeness this book has for that sort of unpacking leads me to think about how appealing it would be for adults; look at books like The Book Thief and The Curious Incident of the Dog in the Nighttime. In different parts of the world, they were treated very differently and for different audiences than in the US.

It’s odd to think of a book being marketed as being for teens doing better or being more suited as a middle grade OR an adult novel, but I do think middle grade and adult fiction have some interesting parallels to them. This isn’t the first time I’ve thought this, but it’s the first time I’ve sat to digest the importance of voice and framing when it comes to where and how a book fits with an audience. Of course, we know “YA” is a marketing tool, rather than a necessary “type” of book, but this book, being one that was indeed intended for teens, seems to allow room for really thinking about what it is that makes a book for teens or not. Jane Emily isn’t interested in the teen’s story at all. But would moving it outside of Louisa’s perspective change it? Would it be as chilling? Would we be able to figure out what’s going on if it were from Jane’s perspective?

All of that isn’t to say teens won’t enjoy this. They will, but I think this book will tick off all the boxes for that 9-12 readership that’s ready for a YA-type book but do not necessarily want YA. It’s told through an older voice, which is immediately appealing, though the story itself is about the experiences of a 9-year-old. It’s creepy in an atmospheric way, so while it could definitely cause nightmares for more faint of heart readers, the primary take away isn’t in Emily’s ghostly (…or not ghostly!) character. It’s far bigger in terms of grief, loss, and trauma.

Another really interesting note on this book: it’s short. The entire story takes place in roughly 140 pages, and it doesn’t take shortcuts in developing story in them. Sure, we don’t get to know much about Louisa or her love life, but Louisa is built as a distant character from the start. We accept the lack of details to be part of how she takes in her world and how she wants to present the story to us. Susan Hill does this same thing, building atmosphere, character, and story, in about the same number of pages in her classic The Woman in Black, too. Which again: my comps for this title fall right into the middle grade *and* adult arenas. Would fans of teen scream queen Lois Duncan like this? Absolutely. But I also think Duncan has great appeal for that 9-12 age range (that’s when I was reading her, for sure).

It’s interesting to think about this book, how well it went over, how it came back into print, and how it lacks the page counts of today’s books. Does brevity help its longevity? Because it doesn’t dwell on details — and it is set in the past — does that help in its timeless feel? Do the holes in the details make it appealing to adults who will want to fill them in with their own historical knowledge?

Jane Emily was such a great read, and I recommend it, if for no other reason than the number of question it left me with in terms of audience, readership, structure, voice, and more. In a lot of ways, its succinctness left those doorways open in a way that a longer, larger, meatier book sometimes closes. And for me as a reader (and as a horror movie lover), the true chills aren’t in the things we see, but in the things that go unsaid and in the questions that stick around for a long, long time.

Covering JANE-EMILY: A Look at Design

October 26, 2015 |

This week, both of my posts will be about Patricia Clapp’s classic Jane Emily, as I’m taking part in a read and blog along with Leila Roy and Liz Burns.

It’s been a while since I’ve done a YA book cover retrospective, wherein I pull up as many of the old covers of a book as possible and look at the ways it’s evolved and what/where it might fit into the book’s story. Jane Emily was originally published in 1969, to see a few cover evolutions over the course of its early life. When it was brought back into print in 2007 by Harper, it took on another cover that, despite being new, still harkened back to the original look.

I’ve tried to pull as much information as possible about these covers, but there may be places where it’s missing or unavailable. Anyone who knows more or knows of other cover variations — foreign covers, especially — feel free to let me know. I’d also love to know what you think about these covers, whether or not you’ve read the book. I’m purposefully talking about the covers before the content because, as we know, covers are what “sell” a book. Is a novel from 1969 still able to be sold to today’s teen readers?

You might be surprised.

Original 1969 Cover

The original cover for Jane Emily is quite simple and offers surprisingly little into what the story may be about. The girl on the cover appears to be a teenager, and behind her, there’s a younger girl looking into a wishing ball. The use of flowers here is representative of something in the book, though as they’re rendered here, they don’t make a whole lot of sense to the cover. The house, of course, does play a role in the story.

Design wise, this is dated, but it’s interesting to note that it does contain representations of all the key pieces of the story. Though the fact it’s focused heavily on the older girl — Louisa — seems misrepresentative of what the story’s truly about. This is something I’ll hit on in talking more in depth about the book, but the primary focus is on Jane, who you see looking through the wishing ball in the background.

Looking at this cover wouldn’t suggest it’s a horror read. It looks a little bit like it’s the kind of story a reader who loves Anne of Green Gables might want to pick up. Sure, Louisa has a romance in it and sure, there are moments of sweetness, but the feel of the book is atmospheric and haunting and creepy.

1971 Paperback

There is nothing I do not love about the 1971 Dell paperback edition of Jane Emily. This is a cover that screams horror, that embodies atmosphere, and it puts Jane/Emily in the center of the story. There’s also a really great pull quote from the Booklist review to hammer home to readers that this is a scary read.

It’s interesting to look at the way the house is depicted here, as opposed to how it’s depicted in the hardcover above. In this one, it’s clearly Gothic and sinister. In the hardcover, the house looks like the White House — it’s stately, clean, and not menacing, but elegant. This paperback cover doesn’t have a whiff of romance to it, either.

The look of horror and shock on the girl’s face is so fantastic. This cover would have absolutely sold me on the book when I was a teen reader (or honestly, a middle grade reader wanting to “read up”) and it’d be the kind of book that I’d have scooped up if I saw it in a used book store.

1974 Paperback

The quality of this cover image is bad, but it’s the best one I could find in my searching. From 1974, we take the look in a direction that tries to marry the romantic vibes of the original hardcover with the most sinister feel of the paperback. But this particular cover doesn’t offer a feeling of either one. It’s a weird shade of bubblegum pink, with a young girl who seems to have oddly blue-green skin looking into the mirror ball. There are still flowers here,but they’re roses (which isn’t the flower in the book that matters). And rather than a house in the background, we have a forest, along with a glowing orange orb that could be either a sun or a moon. It’s hard to say, seeing the sky is an odd shade of yellow.

Without question, this cover tries to appeal to female readers. But it also doesn’t do the story justice. You know there’s something odd going on with the mirror ball, but it looks more like a Wizard of Oz type tale than it does a horror read.

I snagged this cover image from a really fascinating post about the book from Kelly R. Fineman from 2008 on Livejournal. I love how she talks about rereading this one and how much she remembers the experiences of reading it.

Portuguese Edition

Again, another poor quality image because the same one appears to be used over and over throughout the internet. This particular cover is of the Portuguese edition of Jane Emily. I’ve been unable to come up with a year for this one, as I’ve seen some sites suggest it came out at the same time as the hardcover, but I also found a glut of sites sharing reviews and discussions of this one from 2009.

The cover for this foreign edition is pretty great. It looks a lot like a horror film poster, and it’s effective in telling the reader this is about a younger girl and a house that isn’t all that it seems to be. This is a stripped down look from the others, too, as we don’t see a lot of the elements that make up the story shown. There’s not a mirror ball, nor is there a garden or flowers. Again, the focal point is on Jane, the younger girl, rather than Louisa, the teen in the story.

In a lot of ways, this cover looks like it’s aimed at an adult audience more than anything. It looks mature and complex even in its simplicity.

The font for the title reminds me a lot of Jane Eyre here. I can’t place my finger on why, other than the names looking similar. Perhaps I’ve seen an edition of the Bronte classic with this sort of font treatment.

1993 Beech Tree Books Paperback

If a cover could encompass the 1990s teen paperback aesthetic, this is it. It’s filled with clashing covers, weird illustrations, and it’s smashed together in a collage that indeed includes everything from the book. Where to begin?

First, we have Jane at the center. Kind of. But it’s not really Jane — it’s Emily through the mirror ball. Of course, unless you’ve read the book, you wouldn’t know that. Then there’s Louisa, who takes the big image in the middle of the page. She’s very “buttoned up” here, which I didn’t get the sense of from the book being her look or style. Behind her is the doctor (I believe!) that she begins to see romantically while at her aunt’s home. But that’s not a given; it could be her boyfriend from back home, Marcus. I’m betting though it’s the doctor by appearance alone.

Also included on the cover are the house, which looks more stately than ominous,as well as the flowers and garden that play a role in the story. Then there’s another weird bubble going on in the background, too. I’m not entirely sure the role of that, but I guess they needed to use something to fill the space on the cover since nothing else would bring it all together quite the same way.

The tag line for this, though, is the clincher for me: “A ghost story. And a romance.”

That makes it sound like it’s a possible romance with a ghost, doesn’t it? And yes, there is romance in here, but it’s hardly a big deal in the story and it’s not what a reader will pick this one up for. If they do, they’re going to be pretty surprised about how that all plays out.

2007 Harper Paperback Reissue

Taking bits from the Dell paperback is the Harper rerelease from 2007. I love this cover — it’s absolutely perfect for the novel, as it captures the eerie supernatural spirit. I love especially that it’s askew. We don’t see a hard-on image of Jane, but we see her on the side, holding onto the mirror ball and looking frightened by what she sees in it.

The house, which could look stately, is made to look creepy through the use of the branches and green-blue shades. It’s so simple, but there’s a sort of perfection in the simplicity.

My favorite part, though, might be the font treatment. I love how it feels old and classic, making it clear this isn’t the kind of scary story you’d pick up right now and expect today’s world to be inside. This has an old Gothic flavor to it, right down to the light yellow color on Clapp’s name. My only complaint about the choice in font, though, is that the title isn’t particularly distinct from Clapp’s name. This might not be the case were the title not also a name, which I can see causing some confusion.

While I only have seen the 2007 edition in person, since it’s the one I bought, it’s worth noting it’s also the largest in size. Jane-Emily is only about 140 pages long, so the previous editions of the book are thin. The 2007 edition, though, contains a second book within it, so it’s much more on par size-wise with traditional trade paperbacks in YA today, though it has two books inside.

Join Us For A Read Along

October 3, 2015 |

A couple of years ago, Leila, Liz, and I ran a week long blog and read along for Robert Cormier’s The Chocolate War. We’ve talked about doing something like that again for many months — we may have even had more than one in-person talk about it at ALA in January.

All of us have been feeling really burned out on social media lately. While there’s value in social justice or talking about racism, sexism, and other really important issues, feeling the need to be constantly “on” can get draining and take away one of the reasons we all decided to be involved in social media in the first place: for fun.

We decided now was the perfect time to do another read and blog along.

Like last time, we wanted to pick an older title so that talking about it honestly, looking at its merits, and talking about its potential influence in the YA world could generate good dialog. Leila suggested a horror novel since it’s October, and Liz threw out an older novel.

We think it’s perfect.

Patricia Clapp’s Jane-Emily will be the read along title. We invite anyone who wants to participate to pick up a copy of the book this month and read it. You can participate as much or as little as you want to.

The only rules are there are no rules. We just want to talk about the book.

The three of us will blog about the book the last week of October, and I know we’d be happy to host any guest posts and do a big round-up of other blog posts that are written that week about the book. So feel free to let us know you want to do those things or share links with us, and we’ll share them. If you don’t want to blog, we invite you to hop into the comments, onto Tumblr, onto Twitter, or whatever forum you want, to talk about reading the book and what you thought about it.

Here’s the book’s description, and Liz notes that it is, indeed, a YA/teen-driven novel:

Emily was a selfish, willful, hateful child who died before her thirteenth birthday. But that was a long time ago.

Jane is nine years old and an orphan when she and her young Aunt Louisa come to spend the summer at Jane’s grandmother’s house, a large, mysterious mansion in Massachusetts. Then one day . . . Jane stares into a reflecting ball in the garden—and the face that looks back at her is not her own.

Many years earlier, a child of rage and malevolence lived in this place. And she never left. Now Emily has dark plans for little Jane—a blood-chilling purpose that Louisa, just a girl herself, must battle with all her heart, soul, and spirit . . . or she will lose her innocent, helpless niece forever.

This book originally published in 1971, but it is available now, as it was reprinted in 2007. Snag a copy online or pick one up from the library.

We hope you can join us, and if not, we have plans for a second read and blog along before the year is out, so keep your eyes peeled for that.