I really loved this one! I enjoyed the way Whitman was incorporated into the book, despite not being a huge fan of his poetry, and the way James thought about and interacted with the poetry worked for me. I liked the style, which came close to over-done but never quite was. And I thought Roskos did a fabulous job of capturing the family dynamics and lack of easy answers, of showing a teen who engages with his own issues in a way that made me care about him. This is a book I wish had been published when I was in high school and I think for a certain group of teens it could be hugely important.

DR. BIRD’S ADVICE FOR SAD POETS was a wonderful, refreshing surprise. James Whitman is battling depression. His abusive father has just kicked James’s older sister, Jorie, out of the house when she’s expelled from school, and when he refuses to pay for James to see a therapist, James finds his own manners of coping. Mainly, talking to a pigeon outside his window (Dr. Bird), quoting Walt Whitman, and hugging trees. As James tries to make sense of Jorie’s fate, he realizes he may share many of his sister’s self-destructive tendencies.

James’s voice is authentic and humorous. He reminds me a bit of Charlie (The Perks of Being a Wallflower). In his confusion and anxiety, he sometimes comes across sounding young and lost. Other moments he’s incredibly insightful, striking a chord with the reader. This book perfectly captures the messiness that is the teenage years, with a tale of anxiety and depression that is not preachy or melodramatic, and yet still moving and heartfelt and honest. And funny. For all the darkness in this story, I still managed to laugh throughout. This novel is a timeless read that I imagine will help many kids struggling with similar issues no longer feel quiet so alone.

Originally posted here.

A few weeks ago, we were discussing constructions of masculine identity in children’s literature. We had read an article by the fantastic Perry Nodelman about the stereotypes applied to men and boys where their masculinity is concerned. These stereotypes were collected under headings such as “phallic masculinity” and “group masculinity.” To cut a long winded ramble short, it was an interesting read and if you want the name of the article, ask me.Dr. Bird’s Advice for Sad Poets constructs masculine identity in a very different way than Nodelman discussed. This is not to imply that traditional definitions and normative behavior (and expectations of said behavior) weren’t present in the novel – they were – but the novel showed an alternative masculine identity in James Whitman. He is broken – almost gloriously so and Roskos pulls no punches in showing us how exactly he’s broken. The novel is a painful journey about a boy who is hurting and keeps on hurting and every time he asks for help from the adults in his life, he is spurned.It took a while for me to actually get into the story. At first it seems a little choppy and awkward but then the rhythm of the sentences settles in, a certain cadence present in the prose becomes more explicit and the whole Whitman and poetry affair becomes more apparent. I was horrified by James’s parents and touched by the relationships between James and his sister and James and his best friend. This novel, despite James talking to an imaginary pigeon who acts as his shrink, is far more realistic than others in the same genre and perhaps the more poignant for it. I also liked how this book gave a positive perspective on emotional illnesses, depression and other similar problems and show therapy as something positive. More kids need to know that it’s okay to reach out and talk to people than the usual YA novel would have you believe.I don’t know if this book will appeal to everyone. I do know that while the pace is slow and sometimes languid, the payoff is worth it.