Aru Shah and the End of Time (2018)

*Premise spoilers.*

I was late to read the Percy Jackson series—it came out during my college/early adult years, and I wasn’t really interested in reading much middle grade stuff then (other than the final two Series of Unfortunate Events books, of course!) I finally circled back around to it in more recent years, and while I found the books enjoyable, the best part for me was discovering that author Rick Riordan created his own imprint to highlight middle-grade fantasies written by other authors, all dealing with different kinds of mythology. This quintet by Roshani Chokshi, the first in Riordan’s imprint, kicked off splendidly with The End of Time.

12-year-old Aru doesn’t fit in well at school, where most of her classmates have chauffeurs and take lavish vacations while Aru lives above the Indian art/culture museum that her mother curates. When an uncomfortable encounter with some snooty classmates at the museum leaves Aru scrambling to save face, she inadvertently releases a demon known as the Sleeper from his captivity. However, this also leads to a remarkable discovery: Aru is the reincarnation of one of the five legendary Pandava brothers, and it’s up to her and one of her fellow reincarnated siblings to stop the Sleeper and save the world.

The archetypal similarities with Percy Jackson in the set-up are a little obvious—misunderstood kid who has a hard time at school, raised by a single mom, suddenly learn that they’re actually the child of a god and need to go on a heroic quest—but the Pandava series quickly establishes its own footing. (By the way, given the whole reincarnation aspect, Aru isn’t the biological child of Indra, the god of the sky. The book distinguishes between “home dads” and “soul dads.”) I really enjoy Aru as a protagonist, a quick-thinking girl who prefers to think of her propensity for lying as an active imagination. Although she’s thrown into the deep end on this quest to stop the Sleeper (and feeling majorly guilty that she was the one who let him out in the first place!), she rolls with the punches and learns on the fly, which includes learning to work together with her newly discovered soul sister, Mini.

Most kids’ adventure series need a “big brain” character, and that’s Mini. She’s channeled her anxiety and many phobias into learning about everything she fears, so she has an encyclopedic knowledge on a wide variety of subjects, along with a good memory for the stories from Hindu mythology that help her and Aru navigate the magical Otherworld. So, while Aru brings a nimble imagination, bravery, and a strong dose of protagonist recklessness to the table, Mini has the book smarts to guide them.

I really appreciate the nuance that goes into the central fight against the Sleeper. Once everything gets rolling, Aru and Mini are swept up, suddenly meeting the otherworldly Council of Guardians and getting claimed by their Hindu god fathers, so it’s natural to assume that they’re fighting on the side of good. But as they get deeper into their quest and start to learn more about the Sleeper, things get less black and white and Aru gets less sure that she’s doing the right thing. It’s a book that defies easy answers, which I think takes this fun/interesting adventure and turns it into something deeper.

Warnings

Scary moments for kids, violence, some “don’t try this at home,” and thematic elements.

Root Magic (2021)

This middle grade novel by Eden Royce is so lovely. Like Silver Meadows Summer, something about it reminds me of books I loved as a child, especially the works of Ruth White, but it remains a story all its own. I am always about great, complex stories for young people, and Root Magic is a wonderful addition to that canon.

In 1963 South Carolina, 11-year-old Jez Turner is trying to make sense of a world that often defies it. Her grandmother, the family matriarch has just died. A racist deputy keeps coming around the house to harass them. Kids at school are suspicious of Gullah people like Jez’s family, and for the first time, she’s in a different class than her twin brother Jay. Feeling scared and friendless, Jez is thrilled when her uncle decides it’s time to teach her and Jay the family business, learning the folk magic of rootwork. In a tense environment with threats pressing in on all sides, they’re going to need all the protection they can get.

This is a beautiful book. It does a great job combining the supernatural with the real world. In studying rootwork, Jez and her brother learn about concoctions to cure ailments, to bring good fortune, and to offer protection, and the foes they need protecting from are both spiritual and worldly. If certain powders and spells can protect Jez from a boo-hag, could they work the same magic on racist police? Is there rootwork that can help her make a new friend at school? The fantastical elements are woven well into the everyday aspects of Jez’s life, which are at times mundane and at times gravely serious.

The historical pieces of the story are given their full weight while still being written in a way that’s accessible for kids. Jez’s world is one of police violence, harsh battles over integration, and national tumult, and we see it unfold through her eyes. There’s so much she doesn’t understand, and even darker secrets that have been hidden from her, but although it scares and confuses her, it’s still her world and she has to find a way to live in it.

And within the supernatural side of the story, we also find nuance and variation. Sometimes a frightening spirit needs to be warded off at all costs, but sometimes it needs to be listened to. Things aren’t always as they seem, and Jez, who’s been having a hard time in more earthly matters, throws herself wholeheartedly into navigating the world of spirits and magic.

Royce’s prose, written in first-person from Jez’s perspective, provides an excellent window into the story, equal parts poetic and down-to-earth. The scary parts are genuinely creepy, the thoughtful moments are nicely contemplative, and the emotional passages are open and honest. I also like getting the snippets of Gullah vernacular, which help pull the reader into that culture.

Warnings

Violence (including police violence,) scary moments for kids, disturbing images, and strong thematic elements.