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Summary
Summary
Julian Twersky isn't a bully. He's just made a big mistake. So when he returns to school after a weeklong suspension, his English teacher offers him a deal: if he keeps a journal about the incident that got him and his friends suspended, he can get out of writing a report on Shakespeare. Julian jumps at the chance. And so begins his account of life in sixth grade--lurking in the background, though, is the one story he can't bring himself to tell, the one his teacher most wants to hear.
Summary
"It's not like I meant for him to get hurt. . ." .
Julian Twerski isn't a bully. He's just made a big mistake. So when he returns to school after a weeklong suspension, his English teacher offers him a deal: if he keeps a journal and writes about the terrible incident that got him and his friends suspended, he can get out of writing a report on Shakespeare. Julian jumps at the chance. And so begins his account of life in sixth grade--blowing up homemade fireworks, writing a love letter for his best friend (with disastrous results), and worrying whether he's still the fastest kid in school. Lurking in the background, though, is the one story he can't bring himself to tell, the one story his teacher most wants to hear.
Inspired by Mark Goldblatt's own childhood growing up in 1960s Queens, "Twerp "shines with humor and heart. This remarkably powerful story will have readers laughing and crying right along with these flawed but unforgettable characters.
Praise for "Twerp"
A Bankstreet Best Book of the Year
A Junior Library Guild Selection
A Summer Top Ten Kids Indie Next List Pick
A Sunshine State Award Finalist
Reminiscent of "The Perks of Being a Wallflower." . . . You don t have to be a twerp to read this book. "New York Post"
A vivid, absorbing story about one boy s misadventure, heartache, and hope for himself. Rebecca Stead, Newbery Award-winning author of "When You Reach Me"
Mark Goldblatt is an amazingly wonderful writer. Chris Grabenstein, "New York Times" bestselling author of "Escape from Mr. Lemoncello s Library"
Fans of] Jeff Kinney s "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" who have matured beyond the scope and gravity of that series will find a kindred spirit in Julian. "School Library Journal"
Reminiscent of movies like "The Sandlot." . . . Well-written and funny. "The Advocate"
Alternately poignant and comical. . . . A thought-provoking exploration of bullying, personal integrity and self-acceptance. "Kirkus Reviews"
A timely book. "New York Journal of Books"
Elegant in its simplicity and accessibility. "The Bulletin of the Center for Children s Books"
An empathetic and authentic glimpse into the mind of a sixth-grade boy. "The Florida Times-Union"
""
Funny, poignant, and an effective commentary on bullying and its consequences. "The Horn Book Magazine"
"From the Hardcover edition.""
Author Notes
MARK GOLDBLATT is a lot like Julian Twerski, only not as interesting. He's a widely published columnist, a novelist, and a professor at the Fashion Institute of Technology. Twerp is his first book for younger readers. He lives in New York City.
Reviews (5)
Publisher's Weekly Review
Bullying, pride, love, peer pressure, and shame all come together for Julian "Twerp" Twerski in sixth grade. Ordered to keep a journal as an act of contrition for bullying, Twerski comes to record and eventually reflect on the ways in which he acts toward the people around him. Everette Plen does a fantastic job as the first-person Twerski. His voice is young and energetic, with a slightly nasal quality. This sounds perfect for the young tween protagonist. Furthermore, Plen does character voices well, creating authentic and consistent voices that are quickly recognizable for the rest of the cast. The narrator's pacing and inflection capture the changes and developments in Twerski. Ages 9-12. A Random House hardcover. (May) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.
Horn Book Review
Twelve-year-old Julian Twerski didn't mean for "soft in the head" Danley Dimmel to get hurt. He doesn't deny he was there when it happened, but it wasn't one hundred percent his fault, and maybe he could have stopped it. But now that Julian and his gang have served their week's suspension from school, Julian's English teacher, Mr. Selkirk, wants him to write about it. Exactly what happened is the elephant in the room for the rest of the novel (set in 1960s Queens, New York), as Julian does indeed write -- nine composition notebooks' worth -- about everything but Danley Dimmel. Julian tells of how he killed a pigeon and how sad he was, how he caused a car accident, how his friend Quentin burned off his eyebrows, how he was buddied up with Beverly Segal on a field trip to the Metropolitan Museum of Art and how awkward it was walking past nude statues with a girl. Through the compositions, readers get to know Julian, as he comes to know himself, and though he claims to persist with the writing to get out of a book report on Julius Caesar, Julian ironically finds the meaning of life in Shakespeare. He may be a "quintessence of dust" like Hamlet, he says, but he's "a quintessence of dust with a date for Friday night." Goldblatt's debut novel for young readers is funny, poignant, and an effective commentary on bullying and its consequences and on knowing right from wrong. dean schneider (c) Copyright 2013. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Booklist Review
Sixth-grader Julian Twerski discovers a love for writing as he documents his year for a teacher who wants him to come to terms with an act of bullying on his part. Set in Queens in the author's 1960s childhood, this period piece spotlights a time when boys were independent, self-sufficient in their entertainment, and entirely unsupervised. Julian's gang, led by his best friend, Lonnie, hangs out in a vacant lot or neighborhood playground, entertaining themselves by throwing things, exploding fireworks, and ragging on each other. For Lonnie, Julian writes an admiring letter to classmate Jillian, who responds by becoming interested in Julian instead. This leads to a first date, a first broken heart, and a temporary quarrel with his pal. Meanwhile, Julian's composition entries circle around to the incident that led to his punishment. The cleverly constructed first-person narrative leads readers into sympathy with the precocious narrator, so that the reveal is a surprise and the denouement a relief. There's a fair amount of nostalgia here, which adult readers may appreciate more than teens.--Isaacs, Kathleen Copyright 2010 Booklist
School Library Journal Review
Gr 6-8-After participating in an act of horrendous bullying, Julian is given the opportunity to atone for his action and lighten his punishment by writing a book throughout the year. What starts as meandering thoughts and stories about him hitting pigeons and chasing cars evolves into a story of self-realization. The bulk of it is given over to a tangled love triangle. When Lonnie asks Julian, a better writer, to craft a love letter from him to new-girl Jillian and sign it anonymously, she believes the amorous intentions are Julian's. The result leaves bitter feelings between two former best friends. As the story unfolds, Julian comes to identify what he feels is right, not just what his best friend tells him is so. This honest portrayal of 12-year-olds' lives does not gloss over the stupid, hurtful things people do to one another before their moral compasses become fully calibrated. Julian is different from his friends, as he is told throughout the book, but he doesn't see it until the end. In the denouement, he finally stands up and tries to make what he has done right. Not all readers will identify with the sometimes-despicable things the protagonist does, but those who identified with the antihero in Jeff Kinney's "Diary of a Wimpy Kid" (Abrams) but have matured beyond the scope and gravity of that series will find a kindred spirit in Julian.-Devin Burritt, Wells Public Library, ME (c) Copyright 2013. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.
Kirkus Review
Twelve-year-old Julian is assigned the task of keeping a journal that details the events that led up to his suspension for bullying. In an open journal to his English teacher, Julian describes life as a sixth-grader in 1969, roaming his Queens neighborhood with a close-knit group of friends. While the descriptions and dialogue evoke a previous era, the issues Julian faces are timeless topics familiar to adolescents. Initially, Julian minimizes his responsibility for what happened to "Danley Dimmel," whose real name is Stanley Stimmel. Rather than addressing what occurred, Julian recounts his various mishaps and adventures with his friends. Alternately poignant and comical, Julian's stories encompass everything from first crushes and first dates to the purpose of his existence. He struggles with the conflicting need to be part of a group, which means coasting in his best friend Lonnie's wake, and to define himself and understand his unique place in the world. Goldblatt neatly captures that transitional stage between childhood and adolescence, deftly examining the complex dynamics of friendships and skillfully portraying Julian's evolution toward self-understanding. When Julian ultimately reveals what occurred, he describes it with devastating honesty. Julian's acknowledgement of his part in the event and his decisive actions at the story's conclusion illuminate his growing maturity. Goldblatt's tale provides a thought-provoking exploration of bullying, personal integrity and self-acceptance. (Historical fiction. 10-14)]] Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.
Excerpts
Excerpts
Julian Twerski January 11, 1969 The Pigeons of Ponzini My English teacher, Mr. Selkirk, saysI have to write something, and it has to be long, on account of the thing that happened over winter recess--which, in my opinion, doesn't amount to much. It's not like I meant for Danley to get hurt, and I don't think that what happened was one hundred percent my fault, or even a lot my fault, even though I don't deny that I was there. So I guess I deserved to get suspended like the rest of them. I mean, maybe I could've stopped it. Maybe. But now the suspension is over, and Selkirk says I've got to write something, and because he says so, my dad says so, and that's that. I know what's going on. Selkirk thinks that if I write about what happened, I'll understand what happened. Which makes no sense, if you stop and think about it, because if I don't understand what happened, how can I write about it? Besides, I've done worse, much worse, and never written a word about it, and the fact that I never wrote about it had no effect, good or bad, so writing about it or not writing about it isn't going to prove a thing. I've got a good handle on who I am, if I say so myself. Compared with most twelve-year-olds, I mean. I'm not saying that I'm done growing up. I know I've got a long way to go. Sixth grade isn't the end of the line. My dad says that when he looks back to when he was a kid, he doesn't know whether to laugh or cry. I know there's going to be a Julian Twerski in the future who's going to look back the same way and maybe shake his head. (That last sentence should make you happy, Mr. Selkirk.) But when I look back right now, I'm just saying that what happened with Danley Dimmel isn't the worst thing I've done. I'll give you a perfect example: Last year, Lonnie and I were out back in Ponzini doing nothing, just yakking it up. Now, I guess I should mention that Lonnie's my best friend. Except calling him my best friend doesn't tell how tight we are. My dad says that if Lonnie told me to jump, I'd ask, "How high?" He's being sarcastic, my dad, but he's right in a way. Because here's the thing: Lonnie wouldn't tell me to jump unless he had a good reason. So, yeah, I'd ask, "How high?" He'd ask me "How high?" too if I told him to jump. It doesn't mean a thing. I've known Lonnie since I was two and he was three, and some of the stuff that's gone on between the two of us he'd brain me if I ever wrote about, but I'm sure he'll be all right with me writing about the thing with the bird. Oh, and I should also mention that Ponzini is what we call the lot behind the old apartment building on Parsons Boulevard where Victor Ponzini lives. Why we started calling it Ponzini is another story, and it doesn't matter for the bird story. So let's just say that Lonnie was the first to call it that, and it caught on with the rest of us. But it fits. It looks like a Ponzini kind of place. If you want to picture it, picture a layer of brown dirt on a layer of gray cement about the size of a basketball court. It's got weeds growing out of it, and it's got broken glass around the edges, and it's got a half-dozen rusted-out wrecks that were once parked in the underground garage but got pushed out back when their owners skipped town. It's got rats, which should go without saying, but the rats only come out at night. In other words, it's foul and useless, kind of like Victor Ponzini, who once squealed on Lonnie for cutting class. I mean, why is that Ponzini's business? The guy's a fifth grader and nothing but a tub of lard, but at least he knows it, which is about the only thing he's got going for himself. So Lonnie and I were hanging out at the far end of Ponzini, just shooting the breeze, when I noticed that about a dozen pigeons had landed between two of the rusted-out wrecks. I nodded at the birds, and Lonnie glanced behind him, and I said, "What do you make of that?" But in the time it took for the words to come out of my mouth, another half-dozen pigeons swooped down and landed. It was crazy--like a scene from that Alfred Hitchcock movie where a million birds get together and attack a town for no reason. There was no reason for them to show up in Ponzini either. There's not a thing for them to eat. I mean, it might make sense if someone had scattered bread crumbs for them. But there was nothing. It was as if one pigeon took it into its head that the far end of Ponzini would be a good place to rest for a minute, and then the entire air force joined in. So the two of us were standing there watching, and in about a minute there were hundreds of pigeons crammed together between the two rusted-out wrecks, and the air was full of prrriiiilllrrrps--you know, that sound pigeons make. Their heads were bobbing up and down, ducking back and forth, and they were checking each other out. It was like a bird carnival. I'd never seen a thing like it. Excerpted from Twerp by Mark Goldblatt 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.
