The 2013 National Book Award Winner for Young People's Literature, The Thing About Luck is the story of summer, a young Japanese-American girl, whose family works as special harvesters. Summer, her temperamental brother, and her bickering grandparents travel the Midwest during harvesting season, driving combines, harvesting wheat, dumping it off, and cooking for others in their convoy. Along the way, Summer falls in love (so she thinks -- she's only twelve!), learns responsibility, and spends a lot of time being afraid of mosquitoes (she's recovering from malaria).
Cynthia Kadohata has lovingly crafted an intimate, quiet story. There is no big drama, no disaster, no Texas Twister that takes away a combine and forces Summer to fight for her life. Despite its small scope, the book still tackles big themes: familial love, romantic love, duty, and honor. These themes strike me as very Japanese characteristics, but the book is not one about racial identity despite Summer and her family seemingly being some of the only Asian persons in Kansas.
Summer is curious and smart but insecure. I feel that her insecurity is brought upon her by her grandparents, called Jiichan and Obaachan. They are the type of people who persuade Summer for doing the right thing, then they ground her for doing it. For instance, Jiichan and Obaachan don't speak the best English. They often have Summer do the talking for them, yet they tease her by calling her Miss Talks So Good. They also argue constantly. They argue with each other. They argue with Summer. They argue about arguing. They're stubborn as hell and both a hoot to read about and frustrating as all get-out. They also coddle her brother, who would likely be diagnosed as autistic and has a violent temper, yet they allow him to get away with everything. No wonder Summer has such inner turmoil.
I do not envy Summer's family situation at all. She handles it much better than I ever could. And as someone who came from a loveless family and who covets sitcom families for how loving and warm they are, I think I would still take my hateful family unit over the constant bickering and stress Summer must endure.
But I'm not Japanese-American. I'm American-American, which means I shall forgo any sense of duty in order to make my own existence easier and more gratifying. This American laxity is represented in another character, a fourteen-year-old boy who only contributes to the harvesting process in the most minimal of ways. Of course it's up to the non-white girl to do all the actual work. Summer's sense of duty and her perseverance are her most admirable characteristics, and I love the way she steps up and saves the family at the end of the story. But she also understands that, although her ending may be a happy one, happiness is only temporary. She can only do what she can, and be satisfied with it. I think that's a wonderful message.
Summer and her family are full realized characters drawn with precise details. Summer's brother likes LEGOs. Obaachan's favorite thing is to watch people fall over on America's Funniest Home Videos. Kadohata also creates other compelling characters outside the family, like the Parkers, whom Summer's family works for. I found it amusing how much Obaachan hates Mrs. Parker, a woman who might be more of a controlling perfectionist than she is. If Obaachan catches on that all the characterstics she despises in Mrs. Parker are ones she possesses herself, she doesn't articulate it. The Parkers also have a hot son (in Summer's eyes) who teaches Summer some early lessons about love. I could do without the awkward gushing in my middle-grade fiction, but what's there is handled well. Summer is endearingly dorky and appropriately melodramatic.
Kadohata works in literary references to A Separate Peace, a book I personally hated in high school. Summer feels about the same way toward this story of two boys at boarding school, but she puts more thought into it than I ever did. The parts where Summer does her lit homework are a little too meta for my tastes, feeling like author commentary coming through the story. Summer expounds upon how literature can help us examine ourselves and learn new things about our innermost beings. It's not untrue -- just look at me examining myself in this review -- but its heavy handedness stands out in what is otherwise a subtly crafted story.
As for the setting, Kadohata fully describes the wheat-harvesting process, for better or for worse. Personally, I liked learning all the details about the grueling process. And the way Summer describes them is a brilliant way for Kadohata to show astute readers that despite Summer's insecurity about her intelligence -- "I'm bad at math!" she says, like the talking Barbie from the early 90s -- she is able to calculate how much wheat can be harvested in a day with a few quick calculations in her notebook.
The one thing about The Thing About Luck that didn't gel for me was the title! It feels tacked on to give the book a catchier title than, I don't know, Harvesting Days, or something that would more accurately describe the mundane narrative. The cover also illustrates a scene in the book that is very brief and, like the title, doesn't feel entirely intrinsic to the story. But these flaws, if you can even call them that, would be like finding a bug in your cream of wheat. A lot work went into bringing that bowl of wheat to your breakfast table, work that hardly goes acknowledged. You shouldn't throw the whole thing out because there's a bug in it. Its presence is the result of a stroke of bad luck, more for the dead bug than for you. Flick the bug out and enjoy the rest of the meal.