Singing with Elephants

Singing with Elephants

by Margarita Engle

Narrated by Tatiana Flores Infante

Unabridged — 2 hours, 31 minutes

Singing with Elephants

Singing with Elephants

by Margarita Engle

Narrated by Tatiana Flores Infante

Unabridged — 2 hours, 31 minutes

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Overview

Una poderosa novela en verso escrita por Margarita Engle, ganadora de los prestigiosos premios Newbery y Pura Belpré. Una historia sobre la sanadora amistad que surge entre una jovencita nacida en Cuba y la poeta Gabriela Mistral.

Oriol nació en Cuba, pero vive en Santa Bárbara, California, donde no logra encontrar su sitio. Sin embargo, pasa muchos buenos momentos cuando ayuda a sus padres en la clínica veterinaria de la familia, donde cuidan animales heridos.
 
La primera ganadora latinoamericana de un Premio Nobel de Literatura, la poeta Gabriela Mistral, se muda entonces a Santa Bárbara, y Oriol se dscrube confesándole que aspira a ser escritora. Cuando la jovencita descubra que alguien está amenazando la vida de un pequeño elefante en la clínica de sus padres, decide tomar acción para protegerlo. Necesitará poesía, coraje y fortaleza para hacer lo que cree correcto.
 
Una historia escrita con una profunda belleza lírica, que ilumina el poder de la amistad entre generaciones, entre humanos y animales, así como el poder de la poesía para inspirar acción, justicia y aceptación.

ENGLISH DESCRIPTION

A powerful novel in verse from Newbery and Pura Belpré Award-winning author Margarita Engle about the friendship between a young girl and the poet Gabriela Mistral that leads to healing and hope for both of them.
 
Cuban-born eleven-year-old Oriol lives in Santa Barbara, California, where she struggles to belong. But most of the time that's okay, because she enjoys helping her parents care for the many injured animals at their veterinary clinic.
 
Then Gabriela Mistral, the first Latin American winner of a Nobel Prize in Literature moves to town, and aspiring writer Oriol finds herself opening up. And when she discovers that someone is threatening the life of a baby elephant at her parents' clinic, Oriol is determined to take action. As she begins to create a world of words for herself, Oriol learns it will take courage and strength to do what she thinks is right-even if it means keeping secrets from those she loves.
 
A beautifully written, lyrically told story about the power of friendship-between generations, between humans and animals-and the potential of poetry to inspire action, justice, and acceptance.

Editorial Reviews

Publishers Weekly

★ 04/11/2022

In 1947, 11-year-old Oriol and her family live in Santa Barbara, having migrated from Cuba to seek treatment for her grandmother’s diabetes. After the treatment fails and Abuelita dies, Oriol tries to process her grief while feeling isolated at school and being bullied for her accent and love of animals. Now on summer vacation, she finds solace by helping the many animals at her parents’ veterinary clinic and appreciating their “humorous animal opera.” Oriol struggles to express her feelings in both Spanish and English, until she befriends a neighbor—Engle’s imagined version of poet Gabriela Mistral, the first Latin American winner of the Nobel Prize in Literature—who teaches Oriol how to express herself through poetry. And when a baby elephant is separated from its family for a rich actor’s entertainment, Oriol uses her voice to petition for their reunification. Employing immersive free verse that conveys themes of compassion, friendship, justice, and vulnerability, Engle (Rima’s Rebellion) captures how inexplicable Oriol’s grief feels, encasing it in a powerful, charitable, and brave young voice. Back matter includes an author’s note and resources on Gabriela Mistral. Ages 8–12. Agent: Michelle Humphrey, Martha Kaplan Agency. (May)

From the Publisher

In her tender, funny, far-reaching new novel in verse, Margarita Engle...expands our notion of who gets to do the rescuing in children’s animal stories…Via elegantly efficient narrative poetry, Engle weaves themes of longing and belonging, of communication and the sorts of attachment that are too deep ever to be communicated with words.” —New York Times

"Employing immersive free verse that conveys themes of compassion, friendship, justice, and vulnerability, Engle (Rima’s Rebellion) captures how inexplicable Oriol’s grief feels, encasing it in a powerful, charitable, and brave young voice." —Publishers Weekly, starred review

"Replete with lovely, nearly magical imagery...Brilliant, joyful, and deeply moving." Kirkus Reviews, starred review
 
“This is a book that readers won’t want to put down until the last page.” School Library Journal

School Library Journal

06/24/2022

Gr 3–7—Both engaging and heartrending, this is a beautifully told story of fifth grader Oriol who lives with her older sister, Cat, and her parents, who are veterinarians. The family emigrated from Cuba to California in order to help Grandma find better treatment for her diabetes—alas, there was nothing to be done, and she passed away. Now lonelier than ever, Oriol, along with her pet wolfhound and miniature goat, seeks solace from a neighbor who happens to be a famous poet. Inspired, Oriol begins to write as well, learning a lot from the Nobel Prize in Literature winner. Much to her dismay, a Hollywood actor, who owns an elephant and her twin calves that Oriol's parents are caring for, decides he is going to separate one of the babies and raise it as if it were an orphan in hopes of forcing it to "talk." Oriol must use her newfound writing ability and courage to rally support for reunifying the family of elephants. Sure she can feel the pain of the mother elephant through the singing and humming sounds she makes, Oriol knows she must act fast. Written in poetic verse, this is a book that readers won't want to put down until the last page. VERDICT A strong purchase for all libraries. Compassion and love abound in a tale of animal activism and personal growth.—Tracy Cronce

AUGUST 2022 - AudioFile

Carla Corvo dances nimbly between languages in this verse novel about a Cuban immigrant girl who finds her voice in inglés with help from a Nobel laureate and an elephant family. In 1947, Oriol, 11, lives in Santa Barbara, California, where her parents, veterinarians, tend to Hollywood stars’ exotic animals—and where Chilean poet, diplomat, and human rights activist Gabriela Mistral is her neighbor. “La poeta famosa” (the story’s only historical figure) encourages Oriol’s writing and her activism when an egotistical actor inflicts horrific abuse on a baby elephant. As is usually the case with poetry, there is a visual element to the placement of words that narration cannot capture. But Corvo’s elephant vocalizations give the audio experience a sonorous depth, and her human characterizations are affecting. V.S. © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine

AUGUST 2022 - AudioFile

Carla Corvo dances nimbly between languages in this verse novel about a Cuban immigrant girl who finds her voice in inglés with help from a Nobel laureate and an elephant family. In 1947, Oriol, 11, lives in Santa Barbara, California, where her parents, veterinarians, tend to Hollywood stars’ exotic animals—and where Chilean poet, diplomat, and human rights activist Gabriela Mistral is her neighbor. “La poeta famosa” (the story’s only historical figure) encourages Oriol’s writing and her activism when an egotistical actor inflicts horrific abuse on a baby elephant. As is usually the case with poetry, there is a visual element to the placement of words that narration cannot capture. But Corvo’s elephant vocalizations give the audio experience a sonorous depth, and her human characterizations are affecting. V.S. © AudioFile 2022, Portland, Maine

Kirkus Reviews

★ 2022-02-09
Inspired by her friendship with a famous poet, an 11-year-old attempts to rescue a baby elephant.

Oriol is homesick for Cuba, bullied at school for her Spanish accent, and mourning her Abuelita, who died after their family moved to California to help her receive a diabetes treatment that failed. Set in Santa Barbara in 1947, this novel in verse follows Oriol, who finds comfort in caring for animals at her parents’ veterinary clinic and at a nearby wildlife ranch where movies are filmed. She also befriends an elderly neighbor, later revealed to be a fictionalized version of a real historical figure: Gabriela Mistral, the Chilean poet of mestizo Incan and Basque heritage and the first Latin American winner of the Nobel Prize in literature. Mistral teaches Oriol to write poems as a way of coping with her emotions and later encourages her to write a petition to help free a baby elephant cruelly separated from her mother and twin sibling. The book is replete with lovely, nearly magical imagery: In one scene, the mother elephant uses her trunk to swoop Oriol off her feet for a hug. In another, elephants and humans march together for justice. Throughout, the power of words—both to help children find where they belong and to make the world a kinder place—profoundly resonates.

Brilliant, joyful, and deeply moving. (author's note, poem by Gabriela Mistral, further reading) (Verse historical fiction. 8-12)

Product Details

BN ID: 2940159658548
Publisher: Penguin Random House
Publication date: 10/31/2023
Edition description: Unabridged
Language: Spanish
Age Range: 8 - 11 Years

Read an Excerpt

POETRY IS A DANCE

of words on the page.

These poems are a story about the summer
I learned how to twirl and leap on paper.

It was the summer when I met a famous poet and a family of musical elephants.

Until then, all I could do was wish like a caged songbird wordless wistful wishful . . .


SANTA BARBARA, CALIFORNIA
~ 1947 ~


MUSICAL ELEPHANTS ARE LIKE

mountains with windy whispers,
the sea when it roars or chants a lullaby,
tree branches that clack like maracas,
and every animal that opens its mouth to howl, bark, or chant about the freedom to walk, walk, walk,
rejoicing in the sheer joy of touching green earth with rhythmic feet and dancing minds.


ONE DAY

I’m rhythmically walking, walking, walking,
with various creatures on comically tangled leashes, when we reach the garden of a cozy-looking house right across from the high school, and there, kneeling as if in prayer is a stranger.

She’s old, but her face looks strong.
I wonder if my own dark eyebrows are as winged as hers ready to rise and fly like feathers.

Pleased to meet you, I say in English.

She glances up.

This is my giant wolfhound Flora and my miniature goat Fauna, but the piglets and ducklings are just temporary patients from our veterinary clinic where my parents are the doctors and I’m almost a sort of eleven-year-old nurse because I feed, clean, pet, cuddle, walk, walk, walk,
and sometimes I even help with unusual animal sat a wildlife zoo-ranch where adventurous movies are often filmed.
I’m going to be a healer one day . . .

My voice trails away when I see her frown and glance down at her notebook and realize—
I have disturbed her.


I DON’T BELONG HERE


The stranger studies me.

What is she thinking?
Is she wise?
Could we be friends?

I wonder whether
I’ve said too much,
made too many mistakes in inglés.

I wonder . . .

Would this woman care if I told her about the girls at school who make fun of me for being small brownish chubby with curly black hair barely tamed by a long braid?

Would she care that the girls at school call me zoo beast when my clean clothes smell a bit like animals?

Would she care that the boys call me ugly stupid tongue-tied because my accent gets stronger when I’m nervous, like when the teacher forces me to read out loud?

I wonder.


IF ONLY THE WRITER

could speak my true language.

She does!
Te gusta la poes'a, she says,
telling me that I like poetry
Her español is rhythmic like a song,
slower than mine, and fancier,
with words that sound like they belong in a book, which is what she says she’s writing—
a volume of verses.

Voy a adivinar, she says—I’m going to guess.
Vienes para aprender a escribir la poes'a.
You’ve come to learn how to write poetry.

Should I answer honestly?
I simply shrug, embarrassed to admit that I came for many reasons,
to see who she is and what she’s doing,
and because I’m lonely.


PERHAPS SHE CAN SEE

inside my heart.
Because she doesn’t tell me to leave,
just says
I will teach you like I haven’t bothered her at all,
like it’s no big deal I’m here.

I tell her my classmates say
I ask too many questions.

Ay, no, she insists—no importa,
she will teach me a bit about writing.

Poetry is like a planet, she says,
each word spins orbits twirls and radiates reflected starlight.

If you want to write, you have to observe movements, and absorb stillness.

She smiles, and reaches to pat Flora’s huge head, which only encourages my sloppy dog to lick her hand, while Fauna just does what goats always do, nibbles on the edges of the notebook,
and the hem of la poeta’s dress, and a button on her blouse.

I pull all the animals away before they can start eating her hair.


ME ENCANTAN TODAS LAS BESTIECITAS

I love all animals,
the poetry teacher says.

I smile, because animals are my family’s whole life,
now that my grandma is gone.

I wonder if the poetry teacher would like to see my parents’ clinic after my poetry lesson.

Do you write in English or in Spanish?
I ask.
I tell her I’ve been trying to practice English for school,
but Spanish feels like home.

Una mezcla, la poeta suggests,
let us mix our languages together like emotions that swirl and blend in a pot of paint, azul y rojo becoming purple, amarillo y azul turning to green.


LANGUAGE IS A MYSTERY

After a whole year in California,
español is still the only way of speaking that feels completely natural to me,
letters like ñ and rr
hidden inside my island-mind where words are so much more alive than in my incomplete immigration-mouth.

The poet switches to inglés just to help me—but animals don’t recognize my effort to make senseof letters like a y
that sounds like my ll
and an h that is not silent and a k that does not even exist in Spanish—sotodas las bestiecitas begin to bark, bleat, quack, and grunt a humorous animal opera so ridiculous and endearing that for the first time since Abuelita’s funeral, I actually chuckle and laugh out loud—a genuine carcajada, a guffaw!

How wondrous it feels to remember that laughter has no language, and can cross any boundary line,
even the wavy ones between species.

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