With a reading as nimble and sure as cat feet, British actor Malcolm seems at home in the strange, exotic world of Almond's latest fantasy. Young Joe Maloney has never felt comfortable in his own skin. He sees creatures and hears voices that most people do not. Tougher still, kids ridicule Joe for his stammer and his odd, introspective ways. But when a tattered, run-down circus comes to Joe's village, he meets a crew of people who truly understand him. Corinne, a trapeze artist Joe's age, just may be his soulmate. And before the circus packs up its tent to leave, Joe finally finds a way to connect to the life force (embodied as a tiger) that he feels in his "secret heart." Fans of Almond's books Kit's Wilderness and Skellig will be the most willing to follow Malcolm's quick yet steady voice through this offbeat and symbol-rich story; others may find the tale's action a bit slow going. Throughout, Malcolm's soft-spoken portrayal of Joe is an excellent fit. Simultaneous release with the Delacorte hardcover. Ages 10-up. (Oct.) Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
Secret Heart
Narrated by David Almond
David AlmondUnabridged — 2 hours, 36 minutes
Secret Heart
Narrated by David Almond
David AlmondUnabridged — 2 hours, 36 minutes
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Overview
Joe lives with his mother in Helmouth, a forgotten village crumbling on the edge of the suburbs. His days are spent trying to evade the demands of school and the taunts of the local bullies. Joe's friend, Stanny, insists that Joe must toughen up, become a survivor—and he is adamant that a weekend in the wilderness with Stanny and his Uncle Joff will do the trick.
Into Joe's unhappy world comes Hackenschmidt's Circus, and with it the strangely familiar Corinna. She tells Joe, 'In the circus there is a secret heart'—a place of contained wildness where the barriers between the human and animal world are fluid. And indeed, Joe's dreams are already stalked by a tiger, so real that his skin and its pelt begin to feel as one....
Editorial Reviews
Gr 6-10-Stuttering and often at a loss for words, Joe Maloney was born otherworldly, and his mother is his only advocate in his small English village. Peers pay him little heed other than to castigate him; teachers disparage his very presence. Even his mother says, "You're such a funny'n- Something different in your blood or something." Joe is confronted with myriad problems that include a friendship with Stanny Mole, who admonishes him to become a man, to go out and kill with him and Joff, a snake-tattooed miscreant-of-a-man. Dreaming his youth away, Joe skips school, heading for the forest at the call of a roaming tiger. He is befriended by Corinne, a Gypsy girl and young trapeze artist from a newly arrived, worn-out circus. She introduces him to capricious carnival types who gently encourage him to find his own way, to discover the heart of the tiger that lies dormant within him. The fine line between reality and fantasy is always neatly navigated yet left deliciously ethereal. Readers are forever left to wonder where one leaves off and the other begins. In some ways, the chimerical flavor of Almond's previous books is compromised here by a bit more heavy-handedness. Though not as mysterious as his other titles, this book has thought-provoking allegory that will engage older readers in more and more layers of meaning.-Daniel L. Darigan, West Chester University, PA Copyright 2002 Cahners Business Information.
From a master of the symbolism of darkness as it stands in opposition to light and hope: the opaque story of an unusual boy named Joe and a cast of eccentric and unsavory characters. Joe, who feels " . . . the lark singing inside him and the tiger prowling inside him," is a complex, enigmatic character. While he is sensitive and intelligent inside, he is outwardly troubled, awkward, stammering, and dreamily vague. Townsfolk, including his peers, psychiatrists, social workers, teachers, and policemen consistently misunderstand and sometimes victimize him. When a down-at-the-heels circus arrives in town for its last performances before folding, this lonely outsider is drawn to the circus folk and they to him. They are looking for a hero who has the heart of a tiger to carry the skin of the circus's last tiger into the forest. A blind diviner uses her odd rituals to foretell that Joe will be that hero. So does young Corinna, a circus flyer who speaks in esoterica and believes Joe to be her twin from another life. The two carry the tiger skin into the night forest and succeed in driving away a swaggering thug who specializes in toughening up boys with his own ritual of cruel blood sport. The story ends with a metaphorical reconciliation as Joe's constant, devoted mother invites the shunned circus folk to a party in her garden, where they delight neighborhood children. The reader senses that Joe's secret heart may have found a "home." Beautifully written, this nonetheless is a largely metaphysical tale of stalker versus prey (real and surreal, animal and human), featuring mainly symbolic characters with whom readers may not connect and about whom they may not care. (Fiction. 12-15)
"Only Maloney" is the object of jeers and gobs of spit, ever outside the circle in the sleepy English village of Helmouth. He has only a single friend, Stanny Mole, until the blue circus tent arrives with its largely unwelcome population of wasters, tramps, and thieves, who take him in. Graeme Malcolm's delivery, a perfect match for the demanding text, alternates between simple declarative statements that sink low at the end of every line and Joe's dreamy puzzlement. Malcolm manages Joe's stumbling, stuttering tongue with an agility that causes the listener to squirm while also bringing to life a cast of unique individuals. The fine line between fantasy and reality lends a thrilling air to the reading. T.B. © AudioFile 2003, Portland, Maine
"Only Maloney" is the object of jeers and gobs of spit, ever outside the circle in the sleepy English village of Helmouth. He has only a single friend, Stanny Mole, until the blue circus tent arrives with its largely unwelcome population of wasters, tramps, and thieves, who take him in. Graeme Malcolm's delivery, a perfect match for the demanding text, alternates between simple declarative statements that sink low at the end of every line and Joe's dreamy puzzlement. Malcolm manages Joe's stumbling, stuttering tongue with an agility that causes the listener to squirm while also bringing to life a cast of unique individuals. The fine line between fantasy and reality lends a thrilling air to the reading. T.B. © AudioFile 2003, Portland, Maine
Product Details
| BN ID: | 2940169194722 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Octopus Books |
| Publication date: | 02/07/2013 |
| Edition description: | Unabridged |
| Age Range: | 8 - 11 Years |
Read an Excerpt
One
All that night, Joe Maloney sweated, twisted and turned. He dreamed that engines roared and lights blazed. Men yelled, children screamed, dogs yelped. Metal hammered on metal. He dreamed that the surface of the earth was lifted and hung from great hooks in the sky. Beneath it, shapeless beasts danced in the dark. Then he lay dead still. Easy breath, easy heart. He smelt sawdust, canvas, animal sweat, animal dung. Gentle noises, creakings and flappings. He felt something fingering his skull, felt someone whispering his name. He was about to wake up in some new place.
"Joe!" yelled his mum. "Joseph!"
He opened his eyes: just his bedroom, pale sunlight filtering through thin curtains, childhood drawings taped to the walls, his clothes in a heap on the floor. He sniffed the air, trying to smell the tiger again.
"Joe!" she called. "Come on, son, will you?"
He slithered from the tangled bed, picked up his clothes and dressed himself. He dragged on his heavy boots. He sniffed, listened, narrowed his eyes.
"Joe!"
In the bathroom, he splashed water onto himself, then leaned close to the mirror, inspected his pale face, his tangled hair, his one green eye, his one brown eye. He touched his skin. He hadn't changed. He was still just Joe Maloney.
"Joseph!"
He went down into the kitchen. She was at the table, pouring orange juice. She shook her head and clicked her tongue. She tugged his shirt square on his shoulders. She fastened the laces of his boots. "Joe Maloney. What you like?"
He grinned.
"L-like me," he said.
She cuffedhim gently on the shoulder.
"Like you. And you're going to need me to get you up and get you dressed all your life?"
He grinned again.
"Yes."
He buttered some toast and chewed it. She smiled, and smoothed his hair with her fingers and palms.
"I had a d-dream," Joe said.
"Now there's a change."
"There was . . ."
She shook her head, but she leaned toward him, about to listen.
"There was . . . ?" she said.
Joe rubbed his eyes and blinked. He looked out of the window and gasped. The summit of a blue tent stood high over the rooftops at the village's edge.
"What's that?"
"Eh?"
"L-look, Mum."
He jabbed the air. A blue tent, a blue paler than the morning sky. A great blue tent that trembled slightly in the morning breeze.
"What?" she said.
"There, look, Mum."
She narrowed her eyes and peered.
"Tent," he said. "A tent."
"Oh . . . Aye. Now where might that come from?"
They gazed at it together, the slope of blue rising from the dusty red rooftops.
"Fancy that," she said. "A circus or something, eh? Last time a circus came to Helmouth was in . . ." She shrugged. "Before our time, I reckon."
Joe shoved a piece of toast into his mouth. She put her arm around him as he prepared to go out.
"Now, then, Joseph Maloney," she said.
He lowered his eyes, then turned them to her.
"You know what I'm going to say, don't you?"
"Yes, Mum."
"You make sure you get into school today. OK?"
"OK, Mum."
She kissed him.
"Don't want that rotten Wag Man coming round again, do I?"
"No, Mum."
"You. What a lad. Sometimes wonder what I brought into the world. How can a lad be so lovely and so much trouble? Can you answer me that?"
"No, Mum."
"No, Mum. Come on, then, give us a kiss."
She took him to the door, watched him walk through the garden to the front gate. She raised her finger as he turned to wave. "Be sure, now," she said.
"Yes, Mum," he said, then hurried toward the Cut.
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