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The Best Medicine

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Annick Press

Annotation: Philip, a twelve-year-old aspiring comedian, uses humor to cope when his mother is diagnosed with breast cancer, while also dealing with girl problems, bully problems, best-friend problems, and school problems.

Genre: [Realistic fiction]

Reviews: 2

Catalog Number: #143864

Format: Publisher's Hardcover

Publisher: Annick Press

Edition Date: 2017 Release Date: 03/14/17

Pages: 168 pages

ISBN: 1-554-51880-6

ISBN 13: 978-1-554-51880-7

Dewey: Fic

Dimensions: 23 cm.

Subject Heading:
Comedians. Juvenile fiction.
Mothers and sons. Juvenile fiction.
Bullies. Juvenile fiction.
Comedians. Fiction.
Mothers and sons. Fiction.
Bullies. Fiction.

Language: English

Reviews:

ALA Booklist (Sat Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)

Twelve-year-old Philip lives with his mom, aspires to be a comedian, and generally spends days trying to avoid school-bully Eddie, pining for crush Lucy, and hanging with friend Ang. But things take a turn when his mom's diagnosed with breast cancer. It's a scary prospect and, for Philip, embarrassing, too en saying "breast" prevents him from telling people, anticipating teasing. But through his mom's surgery, chemo, and recovery process, they find strength and support in each other and among friends, and Philip realizes humor and a positive attitude can sometimes help, from lifting spirits to providing catharsis, in a hopeful conclusion. Philip is a likable, compelling character, whose first-person narrative incorporates witty and touching moments as he navigates challenges and experiences at school, with friends, and at home. Although some story elements and side-characters are somewhat superficially drawn, Philip's emotions ring true, from fears and feeling helpless to determinedly trying to improve things. This engaging, affecting novel strikes the right balance between lighthearted humor and sensitivity in its portrayal of a difficult crisis.

Kirkus Reviews

This Irish import's 12-year-old narrator laughs to keep from crying. Aspiring to become a professional comedian, Philip Wright enjoys entertaining his single mother and biggest fan, Kathy, while daily attempting to capture the attention of his art-class crush, "dark-haired goddess" Lucy Wells. When Kathy bursts into tears and locks herself in the bathroom after one of his jokes, Philip thinks he's lost his touch. Prodded by her best friend, Kathy finally tells Philip that she has breast cancer that will require surgery, chemo, and radiation. Philip is initially enraged at how much this news will affect his world, never mind the impossibility of saying "breast" to his friends and teachers. When he finally faces the reality that he could lose his mom, Philip starts behaving like she matters. This novel has a rather slow beginning, with humor that feels too calculated to succeed, including an extended lisping riff, making fun of his Spanish best friend's name (Angel, which Philip shortens to "Ang"), and the occasional reference to poo. The author also fails to explain how this family suffers no economic hardships while its only breadwinner cannot work. Nevertheless, middle-grade readers will identify with Philip's conflicts with his best friend and his antics to win Lucy's affections. Ang aside, the primary characters all appear to be Irish; absence of racial cues indicates that the default is white. A cancer story that struggles to evoke either laughter or tears. (Fiction. 10-12)

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ALA Booklist (Sat Apr 01 00:00:00 CDT 2017)
Kirkus Reviews

Reading Level: 7.0

Interest Level: 7-12

Lexile: 740L

In this excerpt Philip has come home from school and runs to the toilet as refuge from his mother. He is desperate to read his poetry class assigment because he is seeking a solution to his lovelorn state for a classmate by the name of Lucy. Ang is his best friend."Just then my cell rang. It was Ang. What do you know? You just have to call out for help and help comes!"You're psychic," I said."Am I?" he said, sounding surprised. "You'd think I'd know that much, then."He was eating chips. I could tell by the deafening crunch. Food is the love of Ang's life. I didn't say too much about it before because he's self-conscious about his weight and I didn't like to draw attention to it. I thought I could hear Mom outside the door again, so I lowered my voice."I need your help," I whispered to Ang."Why are you whispering?" he asked."Because I'm on the toilet.""Yeuch!" he groaned. "You've put me off my chips.""Ang," I pleaded, "you've got to help me.""You want me to come and rescue you from the toilet?""Poetry sucks," I said, trying to ignore his chomping."What do you want me to do about it?" Ang mumbled through his chips."Explain it," I said."How should I know?" Ang said. "I'm no poet.""You were there that day in class.""So? I was there when I was born, but I don't remember any of that."You can't argue with logic like that, so I didn't."You said this Lucy poem was good," I accused him."No I never. I said it was about someone called Lucy.""Ang, you told me it was about unrequited love.""No I didn't. I said we did a poem about unrequited love and that we did a poem about someone called Lucy. I don't know which is which. We did another poem too but I can't remember what it was about.""Sore buttocks," I said."Really? You'd think I'd remember that."I was starting to think maybe Ang knew as little about the poems as I did."Listen," I said. "Finish your chips and focus. What is the Lucy poem about?""Dunno.""Try! This is important.""OK." Ang swallowed loudly. "I think Mrs. Gray said Wordsworth wrote this poem about nature or love or something. And that he was obsessed with Lucy, but that she might be a figment of his imagination or an idea or something."An idea! "You mean Lucy wasn't even real?" That's when I lost all respect for Wordsworth. I mean, who invents girlfriends that might possibly be ideas for themselves? I could hear Ang munching away on his chips again without a care in the world and I wanted to throttle him. Maybe he'd gotten it wrong. "God, Ang! concentrate," I squawked. "Help meeee!"I must have shouted that last bit because Mom came thundering up the stairs and started banging on the door. I was so startled I nearly peed myself. Which wasn't really a problem, because I was sitting on the toilet, but still, you like to be in full control of your bladder."Philip? Are you all right?" she said through the door. Her voice was all panicky.Seriously, what did she think could happen to me sitting on the toilet?"Let me in," she squawked.Let me remind you: I am twelve years old, nearly thirteen. I do not need help in the bathroom."Go away!" I hissed at her."Be like that," Ang said, all huffy."Not you," I explained. "Her.""Her?" Ang squawked. "Have you got a girl in there with you?""Shut up, you pervert!" It was my turn to squawk."Don't you speak to me like that," Mom cried. "You come out here right now.""I'm sorry," I said. "I didn't mean you."But she wouldn't listen. She started banging on the door again."Go away!" I yelled."That's it," Ang said. "I've had enough." But he didn't hang up.Just then, Mom began to cry. Real big choky sobs. "I didn't bring you up to talk to me like that," she wailed. "I'm under a lot of stress right now," she sobbed. "I need your help and ..." (sob) "... love." And then she blew her nose. It sounded like an elephant being slaughtered."I'm sorry," I said. "You know I love you.""You what!" Ang screeched down the phone."Not you, you creep," I said."Who are you calling a creep?" Mom said, and started bawling all over again.I was thinking the only way out of the situation would be to put my head down the toilet and flush, when the doorbell rang."Who's that?" Mom said, sounding a bit panicked."How the heck should I know? In case you hadn't noticed, I am on the toilet!"The doorbell rang again and the person outside lifted the letter flap."Yoo hoo! Kathy, let me in," the person cooed. "I come bearing gifts."

Excerpted from Best Medicine by Christine Hamill
All rights reserved by the original copyright owners. Excerpts are provided for display purposes only and may not be reproduced, reprinted or distributed without the written permission of the publisher.

Philip Wright is twelve years old and life is pretty good. He has a comfortable relationship with his mother and gets reasonably good grades - in spite of girl problems, teacher problems, bully problems and - well, poetry problems. Philip's happy-go-lucky life is disrupted when his mother gets breast cancer. Bad enough that your mother is seriously ill - but could she not have developed a less embarrassing kind of cancer - toe cancer, maybe, or ear cancer? Philip's attempts to cope with his situation are both hilarious and touching amidst his confusion and bewilderment. When his mother is devastated to lose her hair Philip stands in solidarity. Through it all, he writes letters to his hero, a comedian by the name of Harry Hill. Philip looks for advice from Harry, but gets no response to his many highly amusing and urgent appeals for guidance as an aspiring comic, and as an adolescent in need of advice in matters of life and love.

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