Wonder Show

By Hannah Barnaby

Ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls, step inside Mosco’s Traveling Wonder Show, a menagerie of human curiosities and misfits guaranteed to astound and amaze! But perhaps the strangest act of Mosco’s display is Portia Remini, a normal among the freaks, on the run from McGreavy’s Home for Wayward Girls, where Mister watches and waits. He said he would always find Portia, that she could never leave. Free at last, Portia begins a new life on the bally, seeking answers about her father’s disappearance. Will she find him before Mister finds her? It’s a story for the ages, and like everyone who enters the Wonder Show, Portia will never be the same.

• Language: English
• Publisher: HarperCollins
• Release date: Mar 20, 2012
• ISBN: 9780547599816

Hannah Barnaby

Hannah Barnaby holds an MA in Children’s Literature from Simmons College and an MFA in Writing for Children and Young Adults from Vermont College. Formerly a children’s book editor, she has also worked as a bookseller and a writing instructor. Hannah was the first writer to earn the Children’s Writer in Residency at the Boston Public Library. Visit Hannah at hannahbarnaby.com, or follow her on Twitter@HannahRBarnaby or Instagram@hannahbarnaby. 

Book preview

PREFACE

THE BANSHEE OF BREWSTER FALLS

Wayward can mean a lot of things. It can mean lost, misled, unfortunate, left behind. That is how the girls at The Home thought of themselves, despite their best efforts to live some other way.

For the inhabitants of Brewster Falls, wayward meant wicked. Dangerous. Trash. And that is how they treated the girls on the rare occasions they showed their faces in town.

Portia was the only one who went on a regular basis—she did the shopping and stopped at the post office for letters and telegrams. She rode the red bicycle and did not cover her long dark hair, and she sang old gypsy songs at the top of her lungs, and she seemed (to the residents of Brewster Falls) like a banshee coming to steal their souls. Mothers would hide their children indoors when Portia came whipping down the road.

They were a fearful group of folks.

Portia loved to torment them. And she loved the red bicycle.

Riding a bicycle was the only kind of freedom for Portia. It was something she thought she’d always known how to do, simply because she couldn’t remember learning, couldn’t place the first time she’d done it. Like laughing. Or eating an apple. It was so utterly normal that it didn’t even require thought. Settle onto the seat. Push off, pedal, right left right left right. Hold the handlebars steady. Watch the road ahead, to avoid cars and potholes and squirrels, but don’t look too hard at anything. She could almost get out of her body, almost pretend she was entirely somewhere else.

That was the freedom she loved. That was why she had worked so hard to convince Mister to let her take the trips to town, because it afforded her the luxury of time alone on her bicycle.

Only it wasn’t her bicycle—it was Mister’s. It had been his since a Christmas morning once upon a time, when a little boy who would grow up to be Mister had tumbled out of bed and found a string tied to his left big toe, a string that he untied and followed out of his room, through the upstairs hallway to the stairs, down the stairs (unwinding it carefully from the banister), through the dining room, into the kitchen (such a long string!), and through the side door, which he opened to find a shiny red Journeyman five-speed leaning against the porch rail.

Was he happy? Did he gasp with delight? Or did he stand there with a hand full of string and think, They don’t know me at all?

It hardly matters, now.

PART ONE

BEGIN AT THE BEGINNING

Stories came easily to Portia. Lies came even more easily, and more often. The difference was in the purpose. The stories taught her to imagine places beyond where she was, and the lies kept her out of trouble. Mostly.

Portia’s first audience, for lies and stories both, was her father. Her mother had never had the ear for tales of any kind, nor the patience to listen, and she was long gone by the time Portia could tell a tale. A lean, restless woman, Quintillia surprised no one with her departure, and the family quickly closed the space she had occupied like the ocean fills a hole in the sand. They did not speak of her. If they ever thought of her, it was in silence.

And so it was Max, her father, who listened to Portia talk, talk, talk. Out the door, around the house, all the way to the woodpile and back, the sound of Portia’s voice trailed Max like an echo. She had an uncanny way of matching her rhythms to his, tailoring her stories to his moods and whatever task he worked on while she talked. They were stream-of-consciousness ramblings at first, retellings of the fairy tales Portia heard from her gypsy tribe of relations, all of whom lived within spitting distance of her bedroom window and congregated nightly in Aunt Carmella’s kitchen on the other side of the vegetable garden. Portia did not have to leave her room to hear them speaking at night—they knew she was there and projected their voices accordingly. She made the stories her own, chopped them up and clapped them back together in new formations, putting the enchanted princess in the loving embrace of a villainous wolf, marrying the charming prince to the wicked witch and giving them a brood of dwarfs to raise as their own.

Sometimes Portia would have so many storied roads in her head that she would struggle to choose just one path. Papa, she said, I can’t tell where this story begins.

Begin at the beginning, he told her.

These were the earliest days Portia would remember later. Trying to think past them, to drill into her younger selves and mine them for memories, she could get only as far as the view from that bedroom window, the sound of her shadowed aunts and uncles laughing, telling tales, and singing songs about women Portia knew not to repeat in polite company.

These were the days before the money dried up and the dust took over, before the jobs and houses were lost, before her tribe disbanded and went away like seeds on the wind, hoping to find a place where they could land safely.

As her family trickled away, Portia replaced the stories they had told with stories of her own. She didn’t like the feeling of their words in her mouth anymore; besides, the details began to fade, and it seemed her father smiled only when she told her own tales.

There are creatures that dance outside my window at night, she told him, and they are very fat. They have wings, but they cannot fly because their wings are too small.

What do they sound like? asked Max.

Like bees, said Portia.

What do they want? asked Max.

To fly, said Portia. They want to fly, more than anything.

What are their names? asked Max.

The only names Portia knew were the names of her lost relatives. She had not been to school. She did not have friends or know anyone who was not her family. She was five years old.

Their names are Carmella and Joseph and Anthony and Oscar and Elena and . . . Then she stopped because a tear pushed itself out of Max’s eye, and the sight of it rolling down her father’s face made Portia feel that she had done something very wrong.

Papa, she whispered. It’s not true.

I know, said Max.

Then why are you sad?

Because our family is gone, he said. I didn’t think they could fly, but they did.

Portia put her hand into her father’s coat pocket, where his own hand rested like a nesting bird. If they flew away, they can fly back, she said.

Max shrugged. Or we will fly away, too.

Of course Portia thought we included her.

She was five years old.

CIRCUS

A few weeks after Portia turned nine, Max and Aunt Sophia took her to the circus, to distract her from the empty houses and the dust and the quiet. It was Max’s idea, the circus, but it was Sophia’s money that got them in. She grumbled a bit as she handed it over to the beaming woman in the ticket wagon, but even Sophia wasn’t immune to the alluring smells of sawdust and pink sugar that hung all around them. Even she had been a child once.

They went through the menagerie at first, gaping at elephants and the one colossal hippo that bobbed calmly in a huge tank of water. Max moved quickly, wanting to see everything at once, turning occasionally to glance at his daughter behind him. Portia stood next to Sophia and resisted the urge to grab her hand when one of the elephants extended its trunk in her direction, the fleshy tip trembling as it searched the air.

I think it’s looking for a kiss, Sophia said. Her voice was high-pitched, full of forced excitement. It made Portia glad she had kept her hands at her sides.

When they exited the tent at the other end of the menagerie, they found themselves on the midway. There was a long row of booths on each side, selling popcorn and cotton candy and chances to throw things to win other things. Portia knew better than to ask if she could play one of the games—Max might have relented, but Aunt Sophia was against gambling of any kind and would have spent the rest of the day lecturing Portia on the subject. Though it would almost have been a relief to hear Sophia speaking in her normal voice instead of her false, cheery day-at-the-circus one.

Halfway down the east side of the midway, between the ring toss and the Beano booth, was a long stage with a squat tent behind it. There was a podium at one end, next to the tent entrance, and a huge sign above the stage that said STRANGE PEOPLE.

The crowd was dense. Portia couldn’t see the stage, but she could hear the tinny strains of accordion music over the murmuring voices that wove their way back to her.

What’s that? she asked. Max was silent, and Portia felt chastened. She had been asking too many questions lately, and Max no longer had any answers. Or had become, like her mother, unwilling to share them. Sophia—who was taller than most of the women in the crowd and a good number of the men, too—looked down at Portia disapprovingly. Nothing that concerns you. Let’s go.

But what is it? I can’t see!

A large man next to Sophia leaned down to Portia and said, You can’t see? Well, that won’t do. Here, let me help. She was small for her age—it took no effort at all for the man to reach down and lift Portia as if she were a bag of groceries and plunk her down onto his shoulders. Sophia sputtered a bit, but she lived by good manners above all and couldn’t bring herself to reprimand a total stranger.

Portia’s newfound height gave her a perfect view, but even though she could see the figure on the stage, she still wasn’t sure what she was looking at. It seemed to be a man, but he didn’t look like any man Portia had ever seen. His head was very small and bald and rather pointy at the back, and his face seemed too big. It was sloped as though someone had grabbed his nose and pulled everything down toward his nearly absent chin.

Accidentally out loud, Portia said, What is it?

It’s The Pinhead, the man told her.

Is he . . . What’s wrong with him?

Don’t know, said the man. But he sure is funny-looking, ain’t he?

The Pinhead smiled peacefully as he played his accordion and gazed down at the stage. He did not look into the audience, and everyone stared and whispered as if he were on a movie screen instead of right there in front of them. Finally, he finished his song with a little flourish and, still smiling, shuffled off the stage, slipping behind a hidden opening in the tent canvas.

Another man stepped up to the podium. He was wearing a white suit, so white in the early afternoon sun that Portia had to shield her eyes to look at him.

Ladies and gentlemen, he called, let’s hear a big round of applause for Gregor, last surviving member of the lost tribe of Montezuma.

There was a smattering of hesitant applause, and the white-suit man went on.

And now, ladies and gentlemen, our main event. This is what your friends and neighbors will be talking about long after our humble show is gone from your fine town. You will tell your grandchildren the story of this day, and they will scarcely believe you, it is so fantastic. Seeing is believing, but you will not believe your eyes.

He paused and put his hand in the air.

Ladies and gentlemen, I present to you: The Gallery of Human Oddities.

Portia looked down at her father, to see what he was making of all this, but Max wasn’t looking at the stage. Instead, he was staring past one side of it, fixing his eyes on something far away.

Sophia tapped Portia’s benefactor on the shoulder. Excuse me, sir, but I think I should take my niece to a more . . . suitable part of the show.

Of course, he said. He lifted Portia from around his neck and set her carefully on the ground.

But—

What do you say? Sophia snapped.

Thank you, sir, Portia said to the man, and he tipped his hat.

Portia jogged to keep up with Sophia, who was striding swiftly toward the biggest tent on the lot. Max floated distractedly behind her. Why couldn’t we stay and watch?

It’s not appropriate, Sophia said.

"What’s not appropriate? Portia’s mind was swimming with what it was she’d seen, what the white-suit man could have meant by human oddities," why Aunt Sophia was practically running away from the midway stage.

The sideshow, Sophia said. No more questions.

There was no better way to ensure Portia’s obsession with something than telling her to forget about it.

She was distracted a bit as the circus performance began. Portia had never seen such things outside of her imagination: girls hanging by their hair and turning somersaults, small stocky men throwing themselves into the air and catching each other by the wrists, massive tigers obeying the whip-snap commands of the fearless woman who stood inside their cage. Girls riding horses standing up, bears on bicycles, elephants dancing like ballerinas. It was enchanting, like a fairy tale come to life.

But for all the whirling colors and motion and noise, all Portia could think about was what she had not been allowed to see. And that night her dreams were filled with new characters—a man with the head of a bear; a woman the size of a zeppelin, hovering overhead; an army of accordion-playing pinheads—as she tried to figure out what stories might have been hiding behind the curtain on the midway, waiting just for her.

It was barely another week before Max determined that it was time to go. In the years to come, Portia’s memories of the circus would become hopelessly tangled with the image of her father driving away, so that it eventually seemed clear to her that Max had gone to follow the circus. His distant silence during their outing became, in Portia’s mind, a symptom of deep fascination with the midway, the menagerie, and that mysterious tent she had not been allowed to enter. As actual memories faded, they were replaced by dreamlike pictures of Max as a lion tamer, a roustabout, a ringmaster.

Max and the circus were united for good.

And then they both vanished.

GONE

When he finally departed, her father said the same things her aunts and uncles and cousins all had said. I will come back for you. This is not goodbye. This is our only chance. And the last thing, always: Be brave. Someone always said that. This time it was Max.

Don’t tell me that, Portia whispered, and Max looked suitably ashamed. He should have known better, she thought. He should have given her something of his own to keep.

It won’t be long, he said softly. He said it into the air above Portia’s head, like a blessing over her. Like a prayer.

As long as it takes, Sophia told Max. I’m not going anywhere.

Max made himself believe her. He kissed Portia one more time and climbed into his truck. Portia angrily rubbed her cheek as the motor started, wiping Max’s kiss away, and then immediately regretted it when she saw his pained expression in the rearview mirror as he drove away.

There were no other children her age around anymore, so Portia was the only one there with Aunt Sophia. She was the only one who stood in the road and choked on the dust that rose up behind her father’s truck, the only one who cried dirty tears that night (unless Sophia cried, too, which was very hard to imagine). She was the last storyteller in her haunted forest, and Aunt Sophia was an unkind audience.

Nonsense, she barked. All that stuff about goblins and trolls. Your mind is ridiculous, Portia.

Don’t you believe in monsters? Portia asked.

I believe in bears, Sophia replied, and I believe in the devil.

Those aren’t monsters.

You face them down and then tell me that.

Portia imagined her barrel-shaped Aunt Sophia doing battle with the devil and an army of bears, and then thought better of asking if such an event had ever taken place. Even if it had, Sophia would never tell her about it. Aunt Sophia didn’t believe in stories. She believed in practical knowledge, in cooking, in planting a garden, in survival. She believed in staying where God had put her, which was why she agreed to hold on to Portia until Max returned.

Sophia had meant what she said.

She wasn’t going anywhere.

PORTIA

Papa said he didn’t want to leave but he had to. Whenever I didn’t want to do something but I had to, it was

Reviews for Wonder Show

[abbylibrarian_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Ever since Portia's father left her to pursue his fortune, Portia has counted the days until he'd come back for her and they'd be a family again. That doesn't change when Sophia deposits Portia at a home for wayward girls, where Portia is convinced that the proprietor has information about her father. After a tragic event, Portia knows that she must seek her father out. Knowing that he loved the circus, Portia finds a carnival that travels with a circus and gets a job, positive that her father will come through the turnstyle in one of the little towns they visit. This was a story that was a little slow to start, but it definitely picked up in the second part and by the end of it I really felt like I had gotten to know the carnival oddities and cared about what happened to them. It pays off to stick with it, is what I'm saying. I thought the writing was atmospheric and darkly beautiful. Chapters are short, almost like vignettes, and the story's told in the 3rd person from Portia's point of view, but every now and then you get a snippet from someone else's point of view or from Portia in the first person. Again, it took me a little bit to get used to the style, but once I did I really liked it. I think this would make a great crossover title for adults interested in picking up YA titles. The titles that most came to mind as I read were WATER FOR ELEPHANTS by Sara Gruen and GEEK LOVE by Katherine Dunn, both adult titles. OH, but I also think the atmospheric writing makes this a great readalike for THE BONESHAKER by Kate Milford.

[themadhatters_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

This is set in the late 30s, during the waning days of the traveling circus/sideshows. Portia had grown up on a farm, certainly not rich, but surrounded by family. As times get tough, family starts moving away. Eventually it's just Portia, her aunt and father. Then her father drives off one day. Portia's a bit much for her aunt to handle, so the aunt sends her off to a school for wayward girls. Once there, Portia discovers that it's not really the place it was portrayed as. The person in charge, "Mister" is scary, and doesn't behave appropriately toward the young women left in his charge. When a travelling circus goes by, Portia decides that her long gone father may be at one and hopes to eventually find him. When her best friend dies via poisoning, Portia blames herself and runs off to the circus. They take her in and she becomes part of the crew, but she's always in fear of "Mister" finding her. He finally locates her and she's taken back to the home. But her circus family eventually comes to her aid and makes sure that she'll always be safe.

[akmargie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

1930's carnival side show, creepy authoritarian dude, a sweet maybe love story, this book is like a YA version of HBO's Carnivale and I like it. Alot. I thought the writing was very strong and had a folktale vibe that went along with the main theme of stories that we create about our lives and who we are. The romance was light and very sweet. I also found the world building really strong and the setting very vivid from the sinister Mister's house to the traveling show. Really liked this book.

pg. 152 "How's that for irony? I can reach just about anything, except the ground. Life sure is strange." - Jim the Human Giant
pg. 171 "...she thought she could feel something - a buoyancy, a lifting of the ground under her feet, keeping her upright. Perhaps this was the physics of faith, the knowledge that the earth was moving and so was she."
pg. 191 "I will never be free. Unless I'm alone." - Violet, a "normal"

[leftik_1 · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

Barnaby has made some interesting choices in her debut: she uses multiple perspectives WHILE switching between first and third person throughout the book. For the most part, I found it worked. It made the story interesting and gave the reader insight into the various personalities that appear in the book and the actions they make. The real issue I had with the changing perspectives is sometimes it changed perspectives too soon – I didn’t get enough emotional connection in some of the important scenes because immediately after the event, the perspective changed.

I also would have liked a bit more meat in the part where Portia joins the Wonder Show. That was the most fascinating part of the book and it took place in something like a few weeks. I think if I would have felt a stronger emotional connection between Portia and the Wonder Show crew, the end of the book would have had a bigger impact.

That’s not to say Wonder Show was a bad book – it isn’t. It takes a pretty unique premise (I’m having trouble thinking of YA books about running away to the circus?) and an emotional story about trying to find your family and it makes for a good read.

The historical nature of the book – Barnaby based many of the Wonder Show “freaks” on actual people who toured in Side Shows – was well-done and the creep-out factor of Mister was awesome.

Basically, I just wanted more. More depth, more backstory, more Wonder Show, more connection.

[sullywriter_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

A beautifully written, delightfully original story told in multiple perspectives.

[mamzel_1 · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Portia has not been lucky. Her mother is dead and her father left after leaving Portia with her stern Aunt Sophia. Sophia is ill equipped to deal with this imaginative and energetic girl so she hands Portia over to a mysterious and evil Mister who runs a home for girls. These girls are farmed out to do menial work or if lucky, work in Mister's own house which affords them greater comfort and better food. As one can imagine, however, Mister is not a nice guy.Portia steals his bicycle and chases after a circus that had been in their town and is accepted into a most unusual family that is the sideshow. Her plan is to look for her father in all of the towns that they visit. In the meantime she develops relationships with the members of the sideshow and appreciates their differences.Portia is a likeable girl and her journey gives us a glimpse into the strange world of the sideshow.

[girlsonfire · Rating: 3 out of 5 stars]

The plot of this book felt very much like the movie Sucker Punch. The story flowed well enough, but it also felt like I was reading two stories that were joined flimsily. An upgrade readalike would be The Night Circus by Erin Morgenstern.

[msjessie · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

I knew pretty early on that I was really going to enjoy this fairly short novel - and I was repeatedly proven right while reading this charming debut. Though Hannah Barnaby and therefore Portia's tale is a bit short on action and long on character (like another recently released circus themed novel...), I was hooked from chapter one and Portia herself. I felt that the final conflict lacked a bit of emotional pull or immediacy but nearly everything else from this look into Mosco's Traveling Wonder Show was pure fun to read. I'm happy to say that Hannah Barnaby emerges from her first novel as a solid and compelling storyteller with a flair for the dramatic and the unique - just like her indomitable lead.Portia is a flawed but very likeable protagonist; though her story is mostly told in third-person omniscient and occasionally oddly features other first-person perspective important characters, Portia is the strongest, most developed character of the lot. While I truly disliked the shifts between first and third perspectives it's easy to fall into any narrative in the story, be it P's or the Jackal, or Gideon or even Mosco. Portia made me laugh, but mostly and most importantly, Portia made me care about her story; made me invest in her happiness and actively cheer for her success and lament over her losses. Her inquisitive nature and love of words ("Stories came easily to Portia. Lies came even more easily and more often." - p. 13 ARC) endeared her to me rather quickly and her adventures with Aunt Sophie and subsequent misadventures at the McGreavey Home for Wayward Girls only impressed me with her spirit and liveliness.While the 'freaks' advertised for the Gallery of Human Oddities didn't quite live up to the hype of the synopsis and blurb, I am not disappointed; rather instead, I believe that is the whole point of Wonder Show - that those who society considers freaks are really just people like us, living the hand they are dealt. In fact, the only truly freakish character within the entirety of Wonder Show is The Mister - someone not hidden away and hated on principle but someone trusted with power and the futures of young girls. The other characters, thoguh they don't compel like Portia or creep you out like Mister, each have believable and distinct voices. Like Portia, the population of the Wonder Show is at large on the run from something/time/one they'd like to forget, or change. While no two characters plot was the same outside of Portia I found the Jackal and the deteriorating Marvel family to be the most accessible. In fact, while I was far from a fan of the weirdly switching POV's used to alternate character inner monologues (not person to person but 3rd omniscient to 1st), I wouldn't have hated an even longer look into those characters.Though I was expecting to be more involved and invested in the ending, I felt it was solid but very much not the climactic, epic tête-à-tête I had been craving because Mister needed his ass kicked anticipating. And I have to admit that though this is a middle-grade novel, it doesn't read like one and I feel that people of all ages would enjoy the adventures and marvels that make Wonder Show so fun to read in the first place. This is a quick read with a large reward for your minimal efforts; full of charm and adventures, Wonder Show is welll... quite wonderful indeed.

[delphica · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

This was surprisingly solid YA. I don't know why I was so surprised, I guess because the circus/sideshow thing seems overdone. Teen runs away from a home for wayward girls, and talks her way into a job cooking for a sideshow attached to a traveling circus during the Great Depression.My biggest quibble is that I would have liked to have seen this a little more substantial ... the parts at the home for wayward girls felt too melodramatic, like something out of Lemony Snickett. The parts with the sideshow were great, but at one point, they're talking about the endless days, and then it turns out to be TWO WEEKS. Two weeks? I'm thinking months. Overall, though, the characters were very likeable and the story was emotionally convincing.

[lauriebrown54 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Set in the Depression era American Midwest, ‘The Wonder Show’ is a young adult novel of loss, identity, and family. I chose this book on a whim because the cover and the theme made me think of ‘The Night Circus’, a book I loved. It turned out that the two books have almost nothing in common, but I loved ‘The Wonder Show’ on its own merits. Teenaged Portia Remini, who has a gift for story telling, is left behind by her family, which scatters to try to find work in the Depression. Left with her very unmaternal aunt, she watches every day for her father to return for her. He doesn’t; the aunt decides she can’t deal with her any more; and she is sent to McGreavey’s Home for Wayward Girls. This home, which is supposed to reform the misbehaving girls, turns out to be nothing more than a creepy slave camp. The girls labor for the owner, a bachelor called ‘Mister’- a name that constantly put me in mind of ‘The Color Purple’ and the abuse the women went through in that book. No one has ever escaped this man. But when a tragedy occurs, Portia decides she has to try. She flees to the traveling circus and carnival, thinking she’ll find her circus loving father that way. In a sideshow, Portia, the ‘normal’ one, has little to offer. She stands out. But she has her gift of telling stories, and that is what the sideshow is really all about. There is a constant creepy tension in the book, as we wait to see if Portia will find her father or if Mister will find her. She’s a resilient person, but loss after loss befalls her. You can’t help but fear for Portia: Will she break? Will Mister catch up with her? Will she find family? The author took a chance and wrote the book from several points of view, and in both first and third person. It sounds jolting, but it works seamlessly. Barnaby has avoided the problem that many first time authors have, of having a novel that seems only partly there. The dialogue flows well and the characters have depth. This little book is a gem.

[ahandfulofconfetti · Rating: 4 out of 5 stars]

Thank you to Houghton Mifflin Harcourt (via NetGalley) for the e-galley of Wonder Show.When Portia Remini is taken to McGreavey's Home for Wayward Girls and put under the "care" of Mister, the only thing she can think about is escaping and finding her father, who left her when she was young. When a traveling circus-slash-carnival comes through town, Portia decides that the best place to hide from Mister and start her search is as a member of the carnival, where she is one of the so-called "normals" amongst all the circus freaks. And thus begins Portia's search for answers, and most of all, herself.I really enjoyed this book. I found Portia to be a very real character: a girl who has been deserted and left behind her entire life, who grew up with a love and gift of storytelling, who only wants to find her father and be reunited with him. Instead she's put into a horrible situation at Mister's, and after a terrible event, can no longer stand to be there. So she escapes on a red bicycle and takes shelter with a traveling carnival show. I found her to be so incredibly strong; she has dealt with one blow after another and never gives up hope, even when things seem out of her control and falling apart. Portia was really the strength of this story for me personally, although the entire thing was really well put together.I also liked the fact that the surrounding characters, from the two girls she becomes closest to at the Home to the various people populating the carnival, were all fleshed-out with their own back stories. I liked the glimpse of what it was really like to be part of the bally of a 1939 circus, which had already reached its heyday and was slowing dying out and winding down. The book is told mostly from Portia's point-of-view, told in third person, but has first person chapters from some of the characters, from Gideon, who becomes Portia's closest friend, to Jim the giant and Jimmy the dwarf. I liked the fact that the third-person voice was always slightly removed, telling it like it was, while the first-person narrative really allowed you to see exactly how the character was feeling. It added something special to the story that just made the book even more engrossing and interesting, and was something I personally hadn't seen before.This is very much a coming-of-age story, with a very strong, independent female lead who has some weaknesses but never completely allows them to bring her down. It's about the search for a place in the world, someplace you can leave a mark--and someplace to call home. And it's done in a really wonderful way.Wonder Show is now available from your local bookseller. Definitely check it out.

[darkfaerietales_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Review Courtesy of Dark Faerie TalesQuick & Dirty: A surprising story of a girl trying to find herself while on the run by joining a circus in 1940′s America.Opening Sentence: Wayward can mean a lot of things. It can mean lost, misled, unfortunate, left behind. That is how the girls at The Home thought of themselves, despite their best efforts to live some other way.The Review:Wonder Show is hard to classify as a book with its multiple perspectives and its unusual subject matter, but I thoroughly enjoyed it. Portia is part of a Gypsy family that slowly leaves her and her town, including her father. She is left alone living with her strict aunt who drops her off at the McGreavey Home for Wayward Girls. Portia has to work hard and live a life with no comforts. The girls pick apples during the day, and sleep in a cold shed at night. This portion of the story is very bleak, and it broke my heart to read. There is enough evidence of the unspoken life of work forces of abandoned children that Portia’s story could very well be true.The first portion of the book is set at Mister’s house where Portia talks her way into doing housework instead of laboring in the orchard. She runs away to find her father, and to get away from the threatening, possibly murderous Mister. Mister is mysterious and we never learn much about him besides the fact that he has been taking in wayward girls for a long time, and knows how to get them back if they escape. Portia joins a travelling circus as a way to escape the house and to look for her dad. The book is divided into individual chapters that are either about what is currently happening, or from the view point of individual characters, or from Portia’s memories. Portia first meets Gideon, a boy not much older than herself, at the circus, and he introduces her to Mosco to see if he will hire her. She was supposed to cook chicken fried steak, but instead cooked the one dish she knew and introduced it with an elaborate story. Because of her storytelling abilities, Portia gets a job working inside the human curiosities tent introducing the people. She shares a trailer with Violet, who’s parents and brother are albinos in the circus, and learns more about those around her as they travel from town to town.People come and people go in the circus, but there is always something that can be learned from others, whether it be about them or yourself. I really enjoyed the insight into the different type of people that make up a circus show since many of them, especially the human oddities, would rarely be accepted into mainstream society in their time. For the outcasts of society to come together and form their own society where they are accepted was interesting to read. The first person insights into the other characters give them more depth, but it is only a glimpse. It is often said throughout the book that people keep things close to themselves, and rarely divulge secrets or personal histories. The only time we find out more about the characters is during their individual chapters.Even though this takes place in America, Wonder Show sometimes reads like a fantasy novel. The alternating narrators and point of view reminds me of modernist stream of consciousness novels. There is very much a dreamlike quality to Wonder Show as Portia continues her life while trying to find her father, and who she is as well. This is a novel about growing up, the search for self identity, and learning to accept others for who they really are. I would recommend this for anyone who is looking for a different, darker, but thoughtful read.FTC Advisory: Houghton Mifflin Harcourt provided me with a copy of Wonder Show. No goody bags, sponsorships, “material connections,” or bribes were exchanged for my review.

[titania86_1 · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Portia Remini is essentially an orphan. Her father ran off to follow a circus and her mother abandoned her long ago. Her distant, disapproving aunt eventually foists her off into a home for "wayward girls" run by a man known as Mister. He treats the girls as slave labor while looking like he's saving them. After a tragic accident and randomly finding the schedule card for it, Portia escapes on a stolen red bicycle to Mosco's Travelling Wonder Show, where she may find her father or be found by Mister, or find something else entirely.I was immediately drawn in my the cover and the fact that it's about a circus. Wonder Show was a quick, fun read that touched on some deep and universal subjects. The characters were all amazing. It would be easy to demonize the sideshow "freaks" and make them into the monsters the crowd believes them to be. Although they don't mix well with the other circus performers, they were just regular people who want the same things as everyone else. They are neither perfectly good nor perfectly evil, but flawed. These characters were very often sad or angry, which I felt was realistic. Many of them couldn't do anything else because of their physical disabilities, so they were pretty much forced into a circus sideshow to make their living. I liked that the perspective would pass between characters every so often to provide to a glimpse into their mind.Portia was a wonderful character who loved to tell stories and fairy tales, mixing and matching existing ones to make new ones or making her own entirely. Her imagination and creativity were amazing, but those around her didn't understand it and wanted her to rid herself of them and become a shell of herself. She saw the world through her own lens of fantasy and I enjoyed seeing her world through that lens. She also stood up for herself and had a firecracker of personality.Wonder Show was hard to classify into one genre. It was a quest story mixed with gothic mystery, coming of age, Depression-era, and self discovery. Its only real flaw was that the ending felt a little rushed and I wanted it to be longer to more fully capture these characters and their relationships. I would definitely look for more releases by Hannah Barnaby.

[thealternativeone · Rating: 5 out of 5 stars]

Book Review - Wonder Show by Hannah Barnaby Houghton Mifflin Books for Children March 20th, 2012 Trade Paperback Advance Reading Copy – Uncorrected Proof 274 pages ISBN-13: 978-0547599809 Jacket Art: Evan B. Harris Every once in a while I stumble across a book that totally surprises and engages me and is interesting enough to keep my attention through one sitting. Wonder Show, the debut novel, by Hannah Barnaby is just such a book. It is a quick read and, while labeled a children’s book, it contains many adult themes and views yet is perfectly suitable for children and adults of all ages. Wonder Show does not fit neatly into any one genre but, in my opinion, crosses over into many. It is a Young Adult book with aspects of a coming of age transformation but reads like a gothic, urban fantasy. Add a minor mystery, some suspense, and a surprise ending and you’ll begin to understand what I mean by crossing genres. There is a quest; the main character, Portia Remini, searches for both her father and her freedom after running away from a Home For Wayward Girls to join the circus. There is also a mystery. Why are Portia’s files kept secret by the proprietor of the Home she’s been sentenced to? And, finally, it crosses social boundaries (but, I might add, with great care) by referring to the “freaks” and “normals” found in the Wonder Show which is, in essence, a traveling circus. Wonder Show, however, is not a tale about the differences between the circus freaks, those who make their livings as side-show attractions, and the so-called normal people who travel with them and those that come to gawk at them. Instead it is about the similarities and the feelings and emotions of everyone regardless of their physical disposition. Hannah Barnaby handles this delicate issue with concern, aplomb, and the elegance the subject deserves as she slowly transforms the freaks into real people with the most normal and endearing of human feelings. Told from the points of view of numerous characters Wonder Show is a tightly written account set during the Great Depression about a young girl who is in search of adulthood, fights to achieve her own independence, and attempts to break free from the traps of loneliness and abandonment. I personally enjoyed every minute of this story and recommend it for young adults, old adults, those fascinated by the circus and side-show performers, anyone who enjoys a good coming of age story, those looking for a quick read, and all urban or gothic fantasy enthusiasts.5 out of 5 starsThe Alternative Southeast Wisconsin