A young groundling, or animal hybrid, escapes a horrible orphanage to discover his past. The shy, foxlike groundling known as No. 13 has only the faintest memory of a song and the far-off sounds he can hear with his single furry ear to keep him wondering why he exists. He's imprisoned along with dozens of other unwanted groundlings in a former monastery-turned-grim workhouse where food and comfort are scarce. The seemingly human headmistress has dark secrets, and her assistants are cruel to the orphans. When a clever and resourceful new friend springs Arthur, as she calls No. 13, and herself from the institution, the two embark on an epic journey that will eventually bring them back to free the other orphans. Bartk's language is full of rich description and effulgent inventories of food and places. Her world includes Christmas and Beethoven, along with homes in hollow trees, clockwork beetles, police patrols on flying bicycles, and allusions to ancient magic, both good and evil. Arthur, sweetly innocent throughout his journey, must make his way in Lumentown, where groundlings are at best second-class citizens and High Hats control everything. Arthur's harrowing encounters with cruelty, hunger, and filth are interspersed with gentle humor and kindness. Though the origins of the groundlings are never explored (perhaps saved for the planned sequel), the worldbuilding otherwise has an impressive level of conviction and credibility. Bartk's lovely, detailed illustrations and drawings throughout support the sense of enchantment in this imaginative adventure. Captivating and with great potential as a read-aloud. (Fiction. 9-13) Copyright Kirkus Reviews, used with permission.

Gr 3-6-Thirteen, a fox groundling (creatures that are half animal, half human), has spent most of his life in "the Home," a horrid orphanage/workhouse run by the evil Mrs. Carbunkle. When he saves a bird groundling named Trinket, the two hatch an escape plan, and Trinket renames him Arthur, in honor of the brave medieval king. Once Arthur and Trinket are free from Mrs. Carbunkle, they set off on an adventure that will test Arthur's destiny as a Wonderling, including his very unusual abilities to understand and speak to animals and to unknowingly sing a haunting song each night as he sleeps. He will have to head ear-first into danger and return to The Home to find out what that destiny holds. Written with clear and detailed descriptions, this novel drops readers into a strange, magical, mythical, and mechanical world. Fantasy fans will be swept along by the mystery and adventure, guessing until the end how the plot and characters connect. Bearing some similarities to Lemony Snicket's "A Series of Unfortunate Events" with shades of Erin Hunter's "Warriors" series, Bartók's title will appeal to readers who appreciate anthropomorphized animal characters, high-stakes adventure, and Dickensian settings. -VERDICT A stellar new contribution to fantasy that should find a place in every middle grade collection.-Clare A. Dombrowski, Amesbury Public Library, MA © Copyright 2017. Library Journals LLC, a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

ONE OF THE CHIEF PLEASURES of children's books is the central role friendship so often plays - a lonely character moves from isolation and misunderstanding toward the warmth and security of true kinship with others. It's immensely satisfying to watch young people take control of their own fates, navigating outer peril and inner struggle in order to find connection, as do the protagonists of two enchanting new middle grade books. The hero of "The Wonderling," Mira Bartók's debut children's novel, is a groundling, a human and animal hybrid, known only by the number stamped on the tag that hangs around his neck. This sensitive soul, part boy, part fox, has only known the grim confines of Miss Carbunkle's Home for Wayward and Misbegotten Creatures, a joyless place where music is forbidden and the only greenery is the moss growing on the stone wall that surrounds it. He doesn't know who he is or where he comes from, and - most poignantly - wonders why he has been born at all. After he is befriended and rechristened Arthur by a plucky fellow groundling, Trinket, the friends manage to break out of their miserably cosseted world and plunge into the great unknown, the world that's so vast he "had to close his eyes from time to time in order to adjust to its size." He arrives in the shining city of Lumentown and then, in the most opulently strange and inventive passages of the book, descends to the underworld beneath the city, where the clanging from mines and factories echoes through fog "thick as soup and brown as umber," slugs leave glowing silver trails in the darkness, and hundreds of crows' eyes glitter like stars at the top of a chamber. Too often the bullies in the story speak in stale clichés rehashed from the movies, and chance or magic can sweep in too conveniently to save the day. But these weaknesses don't diminish the power of the grand set pieces and exhilarating twists, or the pleasure of humble, exquisite moments. A home inside a tree smells like "pine wreaths, cedar chests, rosemary and mushrooms from deep within the woods." Soon after their escape, Arthur and Trinket settle in a mossy spot between tree roots and gaze up at the night sky: "A cool wind blew, and the two friends pulled the blanket tight around them." Momentum builds toward a thrilling crescendo and, rarest of all, a wholly satisfying ending that still whets the appetite for a sequel. THE DELICIOUS villain of "Himble & Blue" is a mystical golden alligator who lurks in the swamp outside town and delivers asides to the reader in a velvety, malign purr. His dark menace is foil to the pure hearts of Blue Montgomery and Ttimble Wilson, the winning duo of Cassie Beasley's charming, warm-hearted and richly imagined tale. Blue and Ttimble have each been brought by their parents against their will to the poky town of Murky Branch, Ga., a town so small that Ttimble thinks it could "bore the heroism right out of her." But Ttimble is an eternal optimist: "Her parents had taken her life and given it a good hard shake, but that didn't mean Ttimble was going to fall to pieces." Dead set on being a hero and inspired by the incantatory slogans of the infomercial celebrity Maximal Star, Ttimble is undeterred even when every rescue she attempts ends in disaster. "I prefer," she says upon meeting Blue, "to think of myself as potentially extraordinary." Blue, on the other hand, is usually blue. The victim of a generations-old family curse, he just can't win at anything - speliing bees, video games, sports, fights - and is gloomy after being recently dumped at his grandmother's house by his constitutionally impatient racecar-driver father. Then Ttimble catapults in, a breath of fresh air, zealously intent on saving Blue. As droves of eccentric, meddlesome relatives turn up to wait for a red moon to rise, when all wili be called into the swamp to fulfill or contest fates handed down long ago, only the courage to face truths about themselves - truths as dark as the swamp itself - will save Blue and Ttimble. In places the story staggers under the weight of unwieldy plot mechanics and gratuitous emotional explication. But these are flaws of exuberance, and it's hard to dwell on them while you're rooting for characters as disarming as these two. NADIA aguiar is the author of the Lost Island of Tamarind trilogy.

In Arthurs world there are humans, wild animals, domestic animals, pets, and, on the bottom of the heap, groundlings, creatures who combine human and animal. Arthur is eleven years old, half boy, half fox, imprisoned in an orphanage of melodramatic misery, cruelty, and deprivation. When he makes friends with Trinket, a small, perky, birdish creature, his fortunes change, and the two plan and execute an escape. Frying pan to fire, he ends up first as an apprentice to a Fagin-esque figure and then trapped in Gloomintown, an underground hellhole. Innocent and pure, Arthur proceeds through a gallimaufry of fairy-tale tropes, nods to Dickens and T. H. White, and a generous helping of steampunk in pursuit of his goal of self-knowledge. But Bartk demonstrates her own inventiveness: one type of device for instance is a combination of passenger pigeon, player piano, and the internet. She also creates memorable scenes. A particularly sly one involves Miss Carbunkle, the sadistic headmistress of the orphanage, looking for venture capital to support her goal of removing music from the world. This big-canvas fantasy is not shy about lengthy description, a bouncing point of view, or a joyful kitchen-sink approach to secondary characters, incidents, and plot lines. sarah ellis (c) Copyright 2017. The Horn Book, Inc., a wholly owned subsidiary of Media Source, Inc. No redistribution permitted.

In her first book for children, Bartók (The Memory Palace) takes readers to a world in which part-human, part-animal groundlings are largely treated with disdain. The story follows a one-eared fox groundling known simply as Number Thirteen, who has spent all of his remembered life at Miss Carbunkle's Home for Wayward and Misbegotten Creatures, where days are spent toiling silently in a classroom and factory. After Thirteen saves Trinket, a daring bird groundling, from bullies, the two hatch a plan to escape the home. Renamed Arthur by Trinket, the fox groundling seeks to uncover his hazy past but finds his trust and innocence tested in dark and unfriendly places. Bartók doesn't delve into the origins of groundlings but uses them successfully as a stand-in for other disenfranchised groups, with the groundlings subjected to derision and menial tasks by most of the upper classes. Music plays an important role in the story, both as a means of connection and a force for good. Though somewhat dense and slow moving at times, Bartók gives readers a richly imagined fantasy landscape to lose themselves in. Final art not seen by PW. Ages 10-14. (Sept.) © Copyright PWxyz, LLC. All rights reserved.

Miss Carbunkle's Home for Wayward and Misbegotten Creatures isn't much of a home for the orphaned groundlings who reside there. These youngsters part human, part animal are treated like slaves and forbidden from any activity approximating fun. Among them is the nameless Number 13, a gentle, one-eared fox with music in his heart, incredible hearing, and a gift for understanding animal languages. When his peppy, inventor friend Trinket devises an escape plan, they flee into the world outside, which proves more dangerous than the one they left behind. This beguiling fiction debut from Bartók (The Memory Palace, 2011) is just the ticket for readers who revel in quest stories, or those with a soft spot for animal fantasies. Bartók carefully constructs her world, gracing it with a classed society, music, and a touch of steampunk. Number 13, later called Arthur after the legendary king, traverses perilous environs and encounters hostile attitudes toward groundlings in his determined search for his destiny. With a movie already underway, this book seems preordained for popularity. Final illustrations unseen.--Smith, Julia Copyright 2017 Booklist