Spineless

This exceptionally well-written written story gives a nod to the era's fascination with creepy hauntings and dastardly secrets as it expertly transports readers into the atmosphere of 19th-century Florida, uniting well-drawn, nuanced characters with imaginative and tension-building plot twists.... Pure storytelling at its best.

San Miguel concocts a comical and exciting tale that leads to a wild, suspenseful, storm-tossed climax while weaving in thoughtful ruminations on the necessity of giving science, people, and nature their just dues, too.

A Jules Verne aesthetic and themes of contemporary environmentalism underpin this sensationalist sea-monster melodrama set in 1890s Florida. When 12-year-old Chicagoan Algie Emsworth, an asthmatic aspiring naturalist, arrives at the Hotel Paraíso, his mother expects him to spend the winter "bathing quietly in the mineral springs." The resort is anything but tranquil, though: sea-life carcasses line the beach, a toxic red tide exacerbates Algie's condition, and a curse stalks the hotel. When Algie rescues a bioluminescent octopus from the clutches of whiskered explorer Prof. Ransom Champion, the creature takes a shine to Algie. So do tween field biologists-in-training Frankie and Lulu Davenport, daughters of the millionaire resort owner, and the trio sets out to foil the fiendish Professor, who kills birds for the plume trade and seeks a "mystery beast." For all the mocking of celebrity ambition and the connections made between greed and environmental destruction, colonialism remains strangely unexamined herein. But slapstick-brimming chapters, literary references, and scenery-chewing Victorian characters populate the third-person telling as debut author San Miguel reinforces interspecies care, crafting an eco-friendly steampunk thriller. Frankie and Lulu are Cuban American; all other characters read as white or racially ambiguous. Ages 8-12. Agent: Hannah Fergesen, KT Literary. (June)

Copyright 2022 Publishers Weekly, LLC Used with permission.

Gr 4-7--Twelve-year-old Algie Emsworth, who is white, relishes his stay at the Hotel Paraiso, a health resort in Florida in the late 19th century. Assuming his asthma will shorten his life, Algie resents his brother Everett and his mother's coddling and hopes to gain juvenile renown with a paper published by The Chicago Academy of Natural History. Soon after arrival, Algie rescues an anthropomorphic octopus and meets the millionaire owner Aloysius Davenport's two daughters, Frankie and Lulu, described as half Cuban with blonde and curly brunette hair, respectively. Sharing a mutual interest in field biology, the three join forces to uncover the mystery of dying sea life, and to figure out what the unscrupulous Professor Champion, Madam Maximus (head of the Aerial Acrobats), and her performer Angel O'Dare are planning. The octopus is a great sidekick, picking locks by tentacle. Algie has a winsome urgency that makes him likable. Staring his mortality down, Algie faces a limited window to make his mark on the world. His relationships with his family and new friends are realistic and evolve as Algie, Frankie, and Lulu face dangerous adults. In the life-threatening denouement, Algie displays a nuanced empathy for others. There may be a few too many elements thrown in the mix, but the story bears them moderately well. VERDICT While a Calpurnia Tate--style historical fiction has a particular audience, this boasts a rich setting, an ecological mystery, and enough character development to recommend it.--Caitlin Augusta

Copyright 2022 School Library Journal, LLC Used with permission.

"San Miguel's lively story engages deeply with the power of pretending. Algie has little to no life experience of his own thanks to his health troubles and the shielding arm of his mother. But he does have a plethora of practical knowledge thanks to his bookishness. When times get tough, he embodies the brave scientist he wishes to become: he straightens his back, fixes his umbrella cap firmly onto his head and dives head first into danger. Algie's heroism in times of uncertainty reminds us that empathy, not knowledge, is the greatest good of all." — Shelf Awareness