From the Publisher
"[T]horoughly researched, both political and personal, as well as steadfastly invested in ensuring the legacy of Sarah Josepha Hale, the oft-forgotten mother of the holiday." —Bulletin for the Center for Children's Books
"Sarah Josepha Hale is an important woman in America’s history who should be incorporated into more accessible literature." —School Library Journal
"This readable account . . . does offer considerable supplemental support for social studies units." —Booklist
School Library Journal
10/27/2023
Gr 5–8—This book follows the life of Sarah Josepha Hale and her quest for a nationally recognized Thanksgiving. Throughout the course of Hale's venture, Kiernan parallels the presidencies, wars, and conflicts of slavery in the United States. Hale is a lesser-known historical figure for young audiences, so this book brings some aspect of accessibility. But it is lacking finesse. The intended audience of this book is unclear; at times, the prose is advanced and lyrically complex, while at others, the sentences stagnate in short compositions and provide condescendingly overt definitions. Beyond style, Kiernan makes some bold comparisons between the abolition of slavery and the national recognition of a holiday, which seems more alarming when there is another day dedicated to the ending of slavery that has recently become a Federal holiday. By overemphasizing the holiday, the book loses focus on the trailblazing accomplishments Hale made as a writer, editor, and activist. VERDICT While Sarah Josepha Hale is an important woman in America's history who should be incorporated into more accessible literature, this young reader's edition falls flat.—Katrina Jost
Kirkus Reviews
2023-06-21
Kiernan’s 2020 book for adults of the same name is adapted for middle graders.
Like its source, this edition is largely a biography of Sarah Josepha Hale, who, as editor of the influential 19th-century magazine Godey’s Lady’s Book, waged a decadeslong campaign for the establishment of an annual national day of thanksgiving. Hale filled the magazine with mentions of Thanksgiving, and she wrote to presidents imploring them to make the necessary proclamation, starting with Zachary Taylor after he took office in 1849. Young readers won’t learn that date, though, as the information is omitted. They will, however, read through 12 full stanzas of “Over the River, and Through the Wood,” which occupies 2 1/2 pages—just two of many questionable editorial choices. Hale and her contemporaries are frequently quoted at some length (often in fussy, difficult-to-read display type), with little apparent concern for children’s reading abilities; in contrast, much of the surrounding narrative feels dumbed down. One sentence on Queen Victoria’s wedding dress in the original is expanded into an exceptionally fatuous six-sentence passage that ends with an exclamation mark, one of far too many. There is worthwhile information, such as an account of how the 1621 gathering of Wampanoags and Pilgrims became fixed in the national mythos, but readers will likely become exhausted before they reach it.
A turkey. (index) (Nonfiction. 8-12)