9780440219033 | 0440219035 "Tunes for Bears to Dance To" by Cormier, Robert, Adams Book Company

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Tunes for Bears to Dance To

Author(s): Cormier, Robert

List Price: $5.99

Format: Paperback

Publisher: Random House Children's Books

Imprint: Laurel Leaf

ISBN: 0440219035 or 9780440219033

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Descriptions and Reviews

	A masterful portrayal of hatred, prejudice and man ...
	A masterful portrayal of hatred, prejudice and manipulation that challenges readers to examine how they would behave in the face of evil. Henry meets and befriends Mr. Levine, an elderly Holocaust survivor, who is carving a replica of the village where he lived and which was destroyed in the war. Henry's friendship with Mr. Levine is put to the test when his prejudiced boss, Mr. Hairston, asks Henry to destroy Mr. Levine's village.>hr<"[The book] will make fascinating material for group discussion."--School Library Journal>hr<Robert Cormier (1925–2000) changed the face of young adult literature over the course of his illustrious career. His many books include The Chocolate War, I Am the Cheese, Fade, Tenderness, After the First Death, Heroes, Frenchtown Summer, and The Rag and Bone Shop. In 1991 he received the Margaret A. Edwards Award, honoring his lifetime contribution to writing for teens.>hrThe boy, whose name was Henry, watched him from the third-floor piazza that overlooked the street. He was curious about where the old man went every day and would have followed him except for the cast on his knee. The cast would be removed in a week or so and he tried to be patient in the meantime, watching the comings and goings of the neighborhood. The most interesting thing he saw was the old man. Why did he live in the crazy house and why did they let him out every day if he was crazy? "You shouldn't call it a crazy house,' his mother said. "It's an institution for the insane." That was worse than calling it a crazy house, Henry thought. Anyway, the old man did not look either crazy or insane. The boy saw him only for a few moments as he came and went, but he looked normal enough. In the late afternoon when the old man returned from wherever he went, his steps were slower, spiderwebs had appeared around his eyes, and his shoulders drooped although his cheeks were still smooth, like stones worn away by years of rain. Henry hobbled up to the gate of the crazy house once in a while and looked at the people strolling the grounds. They looked normal, too, like the people he saw every day in the neighborhood. The boy himself did not feel normal. He had never learned to use the crutches properly in the five weeks he had worn the cast. He tripped over them all the time. He was not coordinated or athletic, like his brother, Eddie, and walked awkwardly with the crutches, which is why he seldom left the piazza. Eddie would have mastered the crutches in no time at all. He would have swung down the street, calling out to everyone, and everyone would have smiled back, Henry tried not to think about Eddie but that was impossible, of course. Although Eddie had been dead almost a year—eleven months and three days, to be exact—he was still a presence in the lives of Henry and his mother and father. Sometimes Henry felt guilty because he could go, oh, three or four hours without thinking of Eddie, but his mother and father seemed to be thinking of him every minute of the day, walking wearily and sorrowfully through the hours, seldom talking except when necessary. His father, in fact, was swallowed up in his sorrow. Sometimes, Henry could not stand the silence in the tenement and went out on the piazza. Once he thought of jumping over the banister and plunging to the pavement below but knew that would only bring more sorrow to his parents. He was impatient for the cast to be removed so that he could return to his job as the bender for Mr. Hairston at the Corner Market. Mr. Hairston had a back problem and found it hard to bend over. Henry did the bending for him. Picked up whatever fell on the floor. Reached for merchandise on the lower shelves to fill the customers' orders. He also had other duties. Helped unload the boxes and crates that arrived from the wholesalers. Stocked the shelves. Put up potatoes, fifteen pounds to a peck, in the cellar, then carried them upstairs to the produce section. Mr. Hairston was proud of his produce. Fresh lettuce and carrots and spinach and such extras as parsnips and mushrooms, all of them in neat display at the rear of the store. Henry worked at the store every day after school and on Saturday mornings. Until, that is, he broke his kneecap, tripping, then falling down the bottom steps of the three-decker just as school ended in June. A hairline fracture, the doctor said, nothing serious, but serious enough for a cast that enclosed his calf and knee. Mr. Hairston said he would keep his job open until his knee was healed. "How will you bend over?" Henry had asked. "I won't stock the lower shelves until you come back," Mr. Hairston said. "Who'll sweep the floors and put up the potatoes?" Mr. Hairston scowled and did not answer. He scowled most of the time, his expression as sour as the pickles in the wooden barrel near the cash register. Henry didn't want to say what he said next. But had to say it. "Jackie Antonelli would be a good bender for you. He lives on my street. He's in my class at school." He waited in dread for Mr. Hairston's answer. He didn't want Jackie Antonelli to take his job away from him. He had promised Jackie that he would ask, although he did not care particularly for Jackie, who liked to fight. His family was poor, Jackie said, and could use the money. But everybody in that section of Wickburg was poor and could use the money. "Jackie would work hard," Henry said, hating himself for saying that, not knowing whether Jackie would work hard. "Jackie Antonelli's a greaseball," Mr. Hairston said. "I don't want a greaseball working for me." Henry was relieved but immediately filled with guilt because of that sense of relief. He was also angry at Mr. Hairston for calling Jackie a greaseball. Yet he was not entirely surprised at Mr. Hairston's remark about Italians. Mr. Hairston's favorite pastime was standing at the window near the big brass cash register, watching people passing by on the street, and making comments about them. "Look at him, Selsky. A kike. Charges too high for his goods. Always running a sale but jacking up the prices before the sale, then coming down a little. . . ." Or: "There goes Mrs. O'Brien. An Irisher. Nine kids. Spends most of her time in bed. But not sleeping." Then, a strange grunt, like a pig squealing, which, Henry learned, was the way Mr. Hairston laughed. Or: "Look at her, Mrs. Karminski. ... " The boy saw Mrs. Karminski huffing and puffing as a small dog that looked like a windup toy pulled her along the sidewalk. "Sloppy," Mr. Hairst

Alternative Editions

Tunes for Bears to Dance To; by Cormier, Robert; Random House Children's Books, Delacorte Books for Young Readers

Other Books by this Author

8 PLUS 1; by Robert Cormier; random house children's books, Knopf Books for Young Readers

AFTER THE FIRST DEATH; by Robert Cormier; random house children's books, Knopf Books for Young Readers

After the First Death; by Cormier, Robert; Random House Children's Books, Laurel Leaf

After the First Death; by Cormier, Robert; Random House Children's Books, Knopf Books for Young Readers

Better Than We Believed; by Cormier, Robert J.; The Crossroad Publishing Company, Crossroad

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