Publishers Weekly
★ 12/07/2015
Eagar seamlessly blends a 12-year-old girl’s summer of change with a hefty dose of magical realism in this accomplished debut. A past family rift means that Carol first meets her grandfather Serge when her family arrives from Albuquerque to sell his sheep ranch before settling him in a nursing home. Serge’s question to Carol, who uses an Anglicized version of her name, Carolina— “Why do you spit on your roots, chiquita?”—makes her ponder her heritage. Unexpectedly drawn to her grandfather, Carol finds that her woes (an obnoxious older sister, absent friends, endless chores, stressed-out parents) pale next to the questions and fears raised in Serge’s entrancing stories, which all begin, “Once upon a time, there was a tree.” Fairytale motifs (“No rain for a hundred years”) emphasize the stark physicality of the New Mexican mesa, with its oppressive heat, spindly sheep, and numerous dangers. Through this atmospheric setting, Eagar sustains a sense of wonder and longing for small things (bees, seeds, stories) to respond to big human needs. Ages 10–14. Agent: Sarah Davies, Greenhouse Literary. (Mar.)
From the Publisher
Eagar seamlessly blends a 12-year-old girl’s summer of change with a hefty dose of magical realism in this accomplished debut...Fairytale motifs (“No rain for a hundred years”) emphasize the stark physicality of the New Mexican mesa, with its oppressive heat, spindly sheep, and numerous dangers. Through this atmospheric setting, Eagar sustains a sense of wonder and longing for small things (bees, seeds, stories) to respond to big human needs.
—Publishers Weekly (starred review)
Tightly plotted and elegantly characterized, this is a striking debut. Both Carol’s journey and Serge’s stories seem inherently true, and the juxtaposition of the two results in a moving, atmospheric novel of family, heritage, and fairy tales that are more real than not.
—Booklist (starred review)
The delicate magic of Serge’s story ties present and past together in a beautifully written, affecting story of forgiveness and understanding that enables Carol to move forward in her own life, resetting her values and claiming her own place in her grandfather’s story. Her sulks, fears, and desires render her credibly twelve, and the storytelling ably prepares readers for her less predictable decisions. Offering a compelling introduction to Latin American magic realism, this will have appeal for middle-school lovers of literary fiction.
—Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books (starred review)
Serge and Carolina's story is a touching reminder to "squeeze the juice out of every day" and remember where (and who) you call home. A poignant intergenerational story about finding and honoring your roots.
—Kirkus Reviews
Readers who enjoy Pam Muñoz Ryan’s novels or Jennifer Cervantes’s Tortilla Sun (Chronicle, 2010) will find Carol’s angst compelling and her wide-eyed brushes with the likes of magical bees and life-giving trees amusing.
—School Library Journal
Hour of the Bees is as grand as the landscape it springs from, an ode to family and heritage but also to living fearlessly. Forget about the middle-grade designation; everyone who reads this will be touched, and quite possibly moved to re—secure their family ties. Dreamlike while also gritty and real, this is a gorgeous work of art.
—BookPage
Lindsay Eagar has said that her novel “Hour of the Bees” first came to her as a title without a story, involving elements—bees approaching a man named Serge—whose meanings she did not know. Only after she had finished writing did it all make sense to her, which is a nice echo of what the reader will experience in this mystical, memorable riddle of a book.
—The Wall Street Journal
This is a deeply moving story on so many levels. The family dynamics are so real that readers will be drawn to the emotions and actions of each of the characters...The author does an excellent job of offering character struggles that most readers can relate to—Carolina with her sister Alta, and Carolina’s dad with Grandpa Serge. Bordering on magical realism, this book will leave its readers spellbound and is destined to be a favorite enjoyed by readers of all ages.
—School Library Connection
School Library Journal - Audio
06/01/2016
Gr 4–6—Twelve-year-old Carol is forced to spend her summer on her Latino grandfather's remote ranch in the sweltering New Mexican desert. The family is there to ready the ranch for sale and move grandpa into an assisted-living home. Carol's father, Raul, has a broken relationship with his father, and his children have never met their prickly grandfather. But Serge's dementia has forced Raul to return home and face some hard facts. Almarie Guerra does a nice job narrating throughout, and her portrayal of Carol is authentically that of a preteen. The story itself is laden with metaphor (bees, eternal life, alternative measurements of time), which may be difficult for some listeners in the intended age range to grasp. The narrative moves between real time and a past full of magical realism. This shift is marked by italics in the print version to let readers know that the subplot is about to begin. Sadly, this was not mimicked in any way in the audiobook. Listeners are left to figure things out as the narration continues on as before. This may adversely affect overall comprehension and frustrate even the most ardent listeners. VERDICT Despite the narrator's strong performance, the audiobook is flawed. There is nothing to separate the past stories from the present, leaving listeners adrift each time a shift occurs. ["A sentimental but undistinguished coming-of-age story with touches of magical realism": SLJ 3/16 review of the Candlewick book.]—Joan Kindig, James Madison University, Harrisonburg, VA
School Library Journal
03/01/2016
Gr 4–6—Eagar's debut novel follows 12-year-old Carol (not Carolina, she insists) as she and her family relocate for the summer to her grandfather's ranch in New Mexico, where Serge, the ailing patriarch, has been slowly progressing into dementia. As the family cleans, mends, and preps the property for sale, Carol gets to know her grandfather and family history for the first time, all while suffering through the identity crises that tend to accompany adolescence. Eagar makes expressive use of the hot, dusty, isolated setting, while Carol's struggles with her changing self-perception yield a few moments that anyone who's had to navigate middle school will find relatable ("the clothes fit fine. I just don't fit the clothes."). Readers who enjoy Pam Muñoz Ryan's novels or Jennifer Cervantes's Tortilla Sun (Chronicle, 2010) will find Carol's angst compelling and her wide-eyed brushes with the likes of magical bees and life-giving trees amusing, but Eagar's depictions of magic in the everyday often feel as dry as the New Mexico desert. A recurring storytelling motif adds technical interest, but the characters' relationships never quite reach the level of intimacy needed to justify it. VERDICT A sentimental but undistinguished coming-of-age story with touches of magical realism.—Abigail Garnett, Brooklyn Public Library
MAY 2016 - AudioFile
Narrator Almarie Guerra excels at finding the perfect tween voice in this debut novel. Spending the summer with her ailing grandfather is not Carol’s idea of an ideal plan before the start of middle school. But as she hears the tales he weaves, she begins to wonder how much of his magical stories is due to his dementia and how much is actually the hidden truth about her family. Guerra navigates the emotional charge of Carol's relationship with her grandfather, which starts off rocky but becomes a tender friendship. As Carol matures and changes, Guerra voices her growth with understanding and gentleness. A richly emotional audiobook filled with tenderness and the love of family. S.B.T. © AudioFile 2016, Portland, Maine
Kirkus Reviews
2016-01-09
A 12-year-old Mexican-American girl moves in with her estranged grandfather, who tells her fantastic tales she thinks might be true. The summer before seventh grade, Carolina (she now calls herself Carol) can't believe her bad luck. Instead of hanging with her friends in Albuquerque, Carol moves with her family to the New Mexico desert to help her paternal grandfather, Serge, whom she's never met. Serge suffers from dementia and thinks "Caro-leeen-a" needs to learn about her roots. He tells her the area's drought is because of the lack of bees, but Carol hears buzzing and spots bees. While her parents prepare to sell Serge's sheep ranch and her older sister, Alta, complains, Carol bonds with Serge over his fairy tales about Sergio and Rosa's centuries-old love story sustained by a magical life-giving tree. With shades of Tuck Everlasting flavored with Latin American magical realism, the atmospheric story within a story shines. But the debut author is less skilled with characterization. Supporting characters don't evolve, and several details don't add up, such as Carol's calling Serge "Grandpa" instead of "Abuelo" or her mom's secret mastery of Mexican cuisine despite her use of Hamburger Helper at home. Despite minor flaws, Serge and Carolina's story is a touching reminder to "squeeze the juice out of every day" and remember where (and who) you call home. A poignant intergenerational story about finding and honoring your roots. (Fiction. 10-14)
