I read this in 2015 and it was one of my favorite books of the year. I just read it again for a YA class and will amend the review a little to account for my current view of it.
I quote Richie Partington's review: "Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy; The Wednesday Wars; and Trouble are three well-known historical novels for young people by Gary D. Schmidt. Each of the three contains a complex, exceptionally well-drawn father character. Each of the three fictional fathers exhibits notable blind spots and character flaws. These sophisticated portrayals of father characters are one of the reasons that Gary Schmidt is one of my all-time favorite authors."
Ditto for me. This has been described as the third in a trilogy, but if so, it is a loosely based trilogy, which sort of begins (order doesn't really matter, maybe?) with Wednesday Wars, continues with Okay for Now, and concludes with Orbiting Jupiter . In all three of these books there are characters from the same fictional Vermont town. Minor characters from one book become more central characters in the next book. Themes interlock, as Partington alludes to, above. You don't need to have read any of the others to get what is going on. These books are for middle school, I think, though tweens also read and love them.
I am somewhat influenced in my reading of this book by my former student's--Emily, an English teacher--fine MA thesis on this book, so since I liked the thesis I have read from Emily, I am sometimes sharing insights she has put forth, and will try to credit her, but I say nothing I don't believe.
This novel is about fatherhood, parenting, brotherhood, and love, but principally it's a book about grace. About grace, and/or something that Schmidt calls "greater love." All of Schmidt's books are about grace, seems to me. And the opposite of grace, too, the horrors that young people face as they grow up without decent parenting, guidance, love. The book works as Schmidt usually does through repetition of images, humor, and parallelism. I can't show you some of the key parallels without spoilers, but an early dramatic incident at an icy river is the precursor to something that happens later in the book. Contrasts happen, to help you see what this grace might be about, yet I wouldn't call the book didactic.
What we know at the outset is that 14 year old Joseph has been released from prison for attempting to kill his teacher. We later find out why, but hearing this information doesn't make us or anyone in this town likely to be particularly sympathetic to him. We know these stories of classroom violence from the news, and there's no excuse for it. When we read these things in the paper, we think, or some us think: Monsters. Joseph is also the father of a baby, Jupiter, and the son of an abusive father. Jupiter was born to 13 year old Maddie, who (spoiler alert) died of complications giving birth. He loved Maddie and his rage in part derives from that loss, of course. He's moved into a foster family's farm after being released from prison, and he thus becomes the brother of Jack, 12, who "has his back" right from the beginning. Joseph goes to school and does well,and he learns to milk and love cows, and he's both supported (by a few) and bullied/shunned (by most) in school and his new town, but his main goal in life is to find Jupiter, who has herself been put in foster care in lieu of adoption. What does it mean to be a father? Can Joseph be a father? Can a foster parent be a father to Joseph? What does it in fact mean to be a father? Is it a name on a birth certificate, or something else? Can Jack's Dad be a better Dad for Joseph than Joseph's biologcal father? How do you get to be a "brother"?
I loved Okay for Now, and Wednesday Wars, which layered things throughout the central story like Shakespeare, baseball, and art, and masterfully. So when I didn't see these same kinds of layers quite as much in Orbiting Jupiter, I felt initially a little like it was a fault. Like it was too lean, not substantial enough. This is how English types are about books sometimes. The more complex the better. But this book is more direct, less metaphorical, and I don't think it is a fault, finally, that there are fewer layers of meaning. There's the repeated mention of a book Joseph is reading, Octavian Nothing, which is relevant, but there's not much else in the way of extra-narrative thematic links as with the other books. The planet Jupiter is Jospeh's favorite, and it's the name of his daughter. It's like it was written in a kind of white heat, without artifice, more direct. Leaner, and maybe meaner, closer to the core, the source, soul. Obviously the grace and fatherhood issues are everywhere, though.
Part of what makes me think that one reason for the "less literariness" is that Schmidt lost his wife on Christmas eve a couple of years ago. That loss permeates this work, as he says, in an interview. Orbiting Jupiter takes place in the fall leading to Christmas. Joseph and Maddie's giving birth to Jupiter parallels the Joseph and Mary story, in certain ways, and Joseph hears this story in church Christmas eve, and queries the minister about the story, one he had never heard, never having been to church growing up. At the end of the service, Joseph walks up to Pastor Ballou and asks him how much of the story is true.
“I think it all has to be true, or none of it,” he said.
“The angels?” said Joseph. “Really?”
“Why would you not believe it?” said Reverend Ballou.
“Because bad things happen,” said Joseph. “If there were angels, then bad things wouldn’t happen.”
“Maybe angels aren’t always meant to stop bad things.”
“So what good are they?”
“To be with us when bad things happen.”
Joseph looked at him.
“Then where the hell were they?” he said.
I thought Reverend Ballou was going to start bawling.
And that was the end of our Christmas Eve service at new First Congregational (Orbiting 69).
I think Schmidt knows something about love and grace, and also has to deal with the fact that bad things sometimes happen to good people like himself, and kids like Joseph. Where God is in a sometimes terrible world is a question anyone must reasonably ask, I think. But Jack and his family have an answer to that, and a powerful one. And I'm not at all religious anymore, though I grew up in the same faith Schmidt did. But read it to find out.
Cows and milking play a part in this story that I like. The cows "speak" without words, and this is in part what Schmidt has in mind, I think, when he writes about grace and love. Ach, I can't say much else without spoilers! Except this is a lovely, lovely moving book, for maybe fifth grade through high school readers. And me. So, so much for me.