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Summary
Summary
From Newbery Honoree Carl Hiaasen comes this New York Times bestseller set in Florida's Everglades in which an eccentric eco-avenger, a stuffed rat named Chelsea, a wannabe Texas oilman, a singing substitute teacher, and a ticked-off panther can't stop two kids on a mission to find their missing teacher
Bunny Starch, the most feared biology teacher ever, is missing. She disappeared after a school field trip to Black Vine Swamp. And, to be honest, the kids in her class are relieved.
But when the principal tries to tell the students that Mrs. Starch has been called away on a "family emergency," Nick and Marta just don't buy it. No, they figure the class delinquent, Smoke, has something to do with her disappearance.
And he does But not in the way they think. There's a lot more going on in Black Vine Swamp than any one player in this twisted tale can see. It's all about to hit the fan, and when it does, the bad guys better scat.
"Ingenious . . . Scat won't disappoint Hiaasenphiles of any age." -- The New York Times
"Woohoo It's time for another trip to Florida--screwy, gorgeous Florida, with its swamps and scammers and strange creatures (two- and four-legged). Our guide, of course, is Carl Hiaasen." --DenverPost.com
From the Hardcover edition.
Reviews (7)
Horn Book Review
(Intermediate, Middle School) Ever on the lookout for a fast buck, rapscallions Drake McBride and Jimmy Lee Bayliss have bought land in the Everglades. They plan to dig a pirate oil well on the next lot (which just happens to be the Big Cypress Preserve, but why sweat the small stuff?); run a secret pipe underground to their plot; and siphon off enough crude oil to con the government into purchasing oil and mineral rights. There's only one small problem: a Florida panther, the state's most endangered species, inhabits the area and if discovered will threaten the entire project. McBride and Bayliss try to keep a profile "lower than a rattlesnake's belly," but a couple of all-around good teenagers, an adolescent misfit attuned to nature, a crafty codger, and a demanding science teacher have gotten a whiff not only of the panther's scat but also of the swindle that is vintage Hiaasen. Don't expect any environmental preaching here, although a few science facts cleverly sneak into the story; instead, count on a page-turner that issues its own low-key call of the wild. From HORN BOOK, (c) Copyright 2010. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
School Library Journal Review
Starred Review. Gr 5-8-Nick and Marta live in dread of Bunny Starch, the biology teacher. When Smoke, the class loner, gets on her bad side, Mrs. Starch makes him write "five hundred words on the history of the pimple." During a field trip to Black Vine Swamp, where illegal oil-drilling is taking place, the teachers disappears and all fingers point to Smoke. Although an unsigned note is found explaining that the teacher had a family emergency, Nick and Marta suspect foul play and work with Smoke to solve the mystery. Along the way they encounter crooked oilmen, an eccentric millionaire ecologist, and get a glimpse of an endangered panther and her cub. This eco-mystery (Knopf, 2009), set in Florida, is permeated with Carl Hiaasen's wonderfully quirky characters, and Ed Asner's raspy narration plays each of them to the hilt. He voices the crisp harshness of Mrs. Starch, the lazy drawl of the adults, and the voices of the youngsters with ease. His performance is marvelous and his perfect pacing plays up the story's humor while the ecological message is incorporated as a subtle part of the tale. A real gem.-Tricia Melgaard, Centennial Middle School, Broken Arrow, OK (c) Copyright 2010. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Publisher's Weekly Review
Hiaasen reprises Hoot with a panther in the owl role, an oil company as the villain and a rich renegade named Twilly Spree as the outlaw environmentalist determined to save Florida from developers. The kid hero is Nick Waters, saintly son of a minor league pitching coach who joined the National Guard to augment a meager salary, wound up in Iraq and has come back badly injured. Nick's ample worries multiply after his science teacher disappears while on a field trip to the Black Vine Swamp. When Nick goes to the aid of a classmate suspected of involvement in the teacher's disappearance, he stumbles onto dangerous facts about the swamp: an endangered Florida panther has taken up residence, and an oil company has begun an illegal drilling operation. Nick is way too good to be true-he's more the son every parent dreams of-but Hiaasen's smooth writing, whacked-out humor and highly entertaining cast of oddball characters keep the plot clipping along. The achievement is in the underlying earnestness-formulaic or not, the story will move readers, and any kid who loved Hoot will like this. Ages 10-up. (Jan.) (c) Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved
Booklist Review
Hiaasen starts off this story a hybrid madcap swamp adventure and cast-driven environmental whodunit with the disappearance of a biology teacher after a fire breaks out during a field trip in the Everglades. The immediate suspect for the fire, at least, is a young miscreant, but friends Nick and Marta figure something else is afoot: it might have something to do with the nefarious oilmen slinking about nearby, as well as the rumor of an endangered panther and her cubs in the swamp. A generous cast of characters each imbued with a few unexpected traits flits about and provides most of the impetus to keep things rolling. Adding some emotional heft is the subplot involving Nick's father; he returns home from Iraq minus his right arm, and Nick binds his own arm so that they can learn to become lefties together. Hiaasen's gumbo tastes a lot like his previous efforts, pitting conservation against reckless greed and setting the can-do of youth among determined Floridian quirkiness. But there's a reason why a recipe tastes so good time and again.--Chipman, Ian Copyright 2008 Booklist
New York Review of Books Review
NOT many authors are equally successful at writing books for adults and children, but Carl Hiaasen seems to have made an effortless transition. His first and second books for young readers, "Hoot" (2002) and "Flush" (2005), won awards and legions of fans. His latest, "Scat," won't disappoint Hiaasenphiles of any age. What's truly amazing is how much mileage Hiaasen gets here from mining the same narrow niche. Every novel is an eco-mystery set in Florida. Every plot features a greedy businessman (with a dumb-as-bricks henchman) bent on getting rich at the expense of Florida wildlife. Each plot is energized by improbable and hilarious action sequences. In "Hoot," "Flush" and "Scat," the hero is a middle-school boy with a feisty female sidekick. Secondary characters include a delinquent bully and a mysterious, benevolent stranger. (In "Scat," the stranger has wandered in from another Hiaasen novel: he was the protagonist in "Sick Puppy.") Yet despite the similarities, the novels don't feel repetitive - especially not "Scat," which stirs some new, more ambitious elements into the formula. This time, the mystery involves Mrs. Starch, an unpopular biology teacher who disappears during a disastrous field trip to an Everglades swamp. At first, it's hard for Nick, our hero, and his friend Marta to care. After all, Mrs. Starch is a nearly six-foot-tall tyrant who wears "her dyed blond hair piled to one side of her head, like a beach dune." But before long, Nick is up to his neck in secondary mysteries. What was the tancolored, fast-moving blur on the video he took in the swamp? Who or what caused the swamp wildfire that day? Why has Smoke, the class arsonist/slacker, suddenly cleaned up his act? Why is Mrs. Starch's home filled with stuffed animals (of the taxidermy sort)? And if Mrs. Starch is missing, then who's driving around town in her blue Prius? "Scat" is by far the plottiest of Hiaasen's young-people books. The story lines involving Nick, Marta, Smoke, their parents, Mrs. Starch, local fire and police investigators, the mysterious stranger and the two hilarious bumblers who run the Red Diamond Energy Corporation's illegal drilling operation - are intertwined in ways that must have required a spreadsheet to track. Not surprisingly, all of these strands are neatly and satisfyingly resolved at the end of the story. This is also the most contemporary Hiaasen book, dropping names like Facebook, "Harry Potter," the TV show "COPS," CNN's Anderson Cooper - and the war in Iraq. And here's the most startling deviation from the Hiaasen formula. Just when the fun is hitting its stride, we learn that Nick's father has been wounded in Iraq; his right arm is blown off by a roadside explosive. The story returns periodically to monitor the stages of his recovery: his bandages, his infections, his attempts to work with his remaining hand, and so on. This is all handled unsentimentally and with a positive spirit; Nick conceals his grief, calls his dad Lefty and tapes down his own right arm in solidarity. But this subplot introduces some new, grimmer notes to the series, and not every young fan will know what to make of it. Still, the ingenious plotting makes "Scat" more engrossing than either of its predecessors. The characters are richer - two of them turn out to be not at all the caricatures they seemed at first. And even the title is a clever pun, referring both to the good guys' message to the bad guys, and to the panther droppings that hold a key to the mystery. In short, Hiaasen's novels for younger readers seem to be maturing right along with them. David Pogue writes about technology for The Times. His first children's novel will be published next year.
Guardian Review
Like PG Wodehouse and Terry Pratchett, Carl Hiaasen always returns to the same fictional - or semi-fictionalised - world, but manages to unearth an apparently endless supply of convoluted plots and entertaining characters with improbable names. He writes densely plotted comic thrillers exposing the arrogance and greed of the politicians and businessmen who are determined to desecrate his native Florida. His villains are rich, arrogant fools who don't hesitate before pointing a shotgun at an endangered animal or concreting over a swamp to build a new hotel; his heroes are lonely individualists who feel "much safer hiking among a few hungry gators and bears than driving down a busy road at rush hour". Scat , Hiaasen's third novel for children, follows the same formula, but never feels formulaic. The basic plot is simple. On a school trip to the Black Vine Swamp, Mrs Starch, "the most feared teacher at the Truman School", disappears during a sudden, unexplained fire. Two of her students, Nick Waters and Marta Gonzalez, decide to find her - and discover whether their classmate, a convicted arsonist nicknamed "Smoke", was really responsible for igniting the blaze. Hiaasen interweaves a subplot describing Nick's relationship with his father, a captain fighting in Iraq, who loses his right arm when a rocket-propelled grenade hits his vehicle. Determined to share his father's disability, Nick ties his own right arm behind his back, and the two of them learn to be left-handed together. Hiaasen sensibly avoids any heavy-handed attempts to explain the rights and wrongs of the war; when Nick does some research into the causes of the conflict, he simply concludes that "he didn't want to lose his father to a war that nobody seemed able to explain." A recent article in the Wall Street Journal condemned Hiaasen for polluting young minds with ecological propaganda. In Scat , he even points his readers towards Edward Abbey's classic novel of eco-terrorism, The Monkey Wrench Gang . (I'd be fascinated to know if any of them actually read it; Scat 's teenage protagonist does track down a copy, but falls asleep after a few pages.) Whatever your political alignment, you'll find nothing dreary or didactic about Hiaasen's writing; Scat is a funny and furiously fast- moving novel populated by engaging characters and fuelled by a strong sense of moral outrage. Josh Lacey's The One That Got Away is published by Marion Lloyd. To order Scat for pounds 9.99 with free UK p&p call Guardian book service on 0330 333 6846. Caption: article-josh.1 A recent article in the Wall Street Journal condemned [Carl Hiaasen] for polluting young minds with ecological propaganda. In Scat , he even points his readers towards Edward Abbey's classic novel of eco-terrorism, The Monkey Wrench Gang . (I'd be fascinated to know if any of them actually read it; Scat 's teenage protagonist does track down a copy, but falls asleep after a few pages.) Whatever your political alignment, you'll find nothing dreary or didactic about Hiaasen's writing; Scat is a funny and furiously fast- moving novel populated by engaging characters and fuelled by a strong sense of moral outrage. - Josh Lacey.
Kirkus Review
During a field trip to Black Vine Swamp, a suspicious "wildfire" breaks out, and much-feared and -reviled science teacher Mrs. Starch vanishes. The school gets a letter stating she is away on a "family emergency," but no one believes that. Nick Waters and his friend Marta Gonzales are sure bad-boy Duane "Smoke" Scrod, Jr., is to blame for both fire and disappearance. However, there's more to Duane, Mrs. Starch and the fire than Nick or Marta could ever imagine. This is Hiaasen Country, so the complications include a rare Florida panther, a crooked oil company, a tree-hugging Hayduke of a millionaire and a couple of well-meaning-but-not-as-swift-as-the-kids detectives. Hiaasen's third outing for young readers might be a little slow in pacing and the character types might be recognizable to experienced readers, but fans of Hoot and Flush (2002, 2005) will not be disappointed by this funny, believable, environmentally friendly tween thriller. (Thriller. 10-15) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
The day before Mrs. Starch vanished, her third-period biology students trudged silently, as always, into the classroom. Their expressions reflected the usual mix of dread and melancholy, for Mrs. Starch was the most feared teacher at the Truman School. When the bell rang, she unfolded stiffly, like a crane, and rose to her full height of nearly six feet. In one hand she twirled a sharpened Ticonderoga No. 2 pencil, a sure sign of trouble to come. Nick glanced across the aisle at Marta Gonzalez. Her brown eyes were locked on Mrs. Starch, and her thin elbows were planted like fence posts, pinning her biology book open to Chapter 8. Nick had left his own textbook in his locker, and his palms were sweating. "Good morning, people," said Mrs. Starch, in a tone so mild that it was chilling. "Who's prepared to tell me about the Calvin cycle?" Only one hand rose. It belonged to Graham, who always claimed to know the answers but never did. Mrs. Starch hadn't called on him since the first week of class. "The Calvin cycle," she repeated. "Anybody?" Marta looked as if she might throw up again. The last time that had happened, Mrs. Starch had barely waited until the floor was mopped before instructing Marta to write a paper listing five major muscles used in the act of regurgitation. Nick and the other students had been blown away. What kind of teacher would punish a kid for puking? "By now," Mrs. Starch was saying, "the photosynthetic process should be familiar to all of you." Marta gulped hard, twice. She'd been having nightmares about Mrs. Starch, who wore her dyed blond hair piled to one side of her head, like a beach dune. Mrs. Starch's school wardrobe never varied: a polyester pants suit in one of four faded pastel colors, and drab brown flats. She painted heavy violet makeup on her eyelids, yet she made no effort to conceal an odd crimson mark on her chin. The mark was the shape of an anvil and the subject of wild speculation, but nobody had gotten up the nerve to ask Mrs. Starch about it. Marta's eyes flicked miserably toward Nick, then back to the teacher. Nick was fond of Marta, although he wasn't sure if he liked her enough to sacrifice himself to Mrs. Starch, who had begun to pace. She was scanning the class, selecting a victim. A droplet of perspiration glided like a spider down Nick's neck. If he worked up the courage to raise his hand, Mrs. Starch would pounce swiftly. Right away she'd see that he had forgotten his biology book, a crime that would be forgiven only if Nick was able to explain and then diagram the Calvin cycle, which was unlikely. Nick was still struggling to figure out the Krebs cycle from Chapter 7. "Plants, as we all know, are vital to human existence," said Mrs. Starch, on patrol. "And without the Calvin cycle, plants could not exist. Could not exist_._._." Graham was waving his arm and squirming like a puppy. The rest of the class prayed that Mrs. Starch would call on him, but she acted as if he were invisible. Abruptly she spun to a halt at the front of Marta's row. Marta sat rigidly in the second desk, behind a brainy girl named Libby who knew all about the Calvin cycle--all about everything--but seldom made a peep. "The chart on page 169," Mrs. Starch went on, "makes it all plain as day. It's an excellent illustration, and one that you are likely to encounter on a test. Quite likely_._._." Marta lowered her head, a tactical mistake. The movement, slight as it was, caught Mrs. Starch's attention. Nick sucked in a breath. His heart raced and his head buzzed, because he knew that it was now or never. Marta seemed to shrink under Mrs. Starch's icy gaze. Nick could see tears forming at the corners of Marta's eyes, and he hated himself for hesitating. "Come on, people, snap out of your coma," Mrs. Starch chided, tapping the pencil on Libby's desk. "The Calvin cycle?" The only reply was a ripping noise--Marta's trembling elbows, tearing holes in the pages of her book. Mrs. Starch frowned. "I was hoping for a sea of hands," she said with a disappointed sigh. "But, once again, it seems I'll have to pick a volunteer. An unwilling volunteer_._._." As the teacher pointed her pencil at the top of Marta's head, Nick raised his hand. I'm toast, he thought. She's gonna crush me like a bug. Lowering his eyes, he braced to hear Mrs. Starch call his name. "Oh, Duane?" she sang out. Great, Nick thought. She forgot who I am. But when he looked up, he saw the teacher aiming her pencil at another kid on the other side of the classroom. The mean old bird had totally faked him out, and Marta, too. The other kid's name really was Duane, and Nick had known him since elementary school, when he was two years ahead of Nick and known as Duane the Dweeb. One summer, Duane the Dweeb grew five inches and gained thirty-one pounds, and from then on everybody called him Smoke, because that's what he wanted to be called. Some kids said it was because he was a pyro. "So, Duane," Mrs. Starch said sweetly. "Have you finished Chapter 8?" Rumpled and sleepy-looking, Smoke grunted and raised his eyes toward the teacher. Nick couldn't see his expression, but the slump of his shoulders suggested a profound lack of interest. "Duane?" "I guess I read it, yeah." "You guess?" Using a thumb and two fingers, Mrs. Starch spun the yellow pencil into a blur, like a miniature airplane propeller. Under less stressful circumstances it would have been entertaining. "I read so much," Smoke said, "I forget which is which." Several students struggled to smother giggles. Marta reached across the aisle, nudged Nick, and mouthed the words "Thank you." Nick felt his face redden. "For raising your hand," Marta whispered. Nick shrugged. "No big deal," he whispered back. Mrs. Starch moved across the classroom and positioned herself beside Smoke's desk. "I see you brought your biology book today," she said. "That's progress, Duane." "I guess." "But you'll find that it's much easier to read when it's not upside down." Mrs. Starch rotated the textbook, using the eraser end of her No. 2 pencil. Smoke nodded. "Yeah, that's better." He tried to flip open the book, but Mrs. Starch pressed down firmly with the pencil, holding the cover closed. "No peeking," she said. "Tell me how the Calvin cycle produces sugar from carbon dioxide, and why that's so important to photosynthesis." "Gimme a minute." Smoke casually began to pick at a nasty-looking zit on his meaty, fuzz-_covered neck. Mrs. Starch said, "We're all waiting," which was true. The other students, including Nick and Marta, were on the edge of their seats. They were aware that something major and possibly legendary was about to occur, though they had no clue that within forty-eight hours they would each be questioned by sheriff's deputies and asked to tell what they'd seen and heard. Excerpted from Scat by Carl Hiaasen All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.
