Hokey Pokey
Hokey Pokey
Select a format:
Perma-Bound Edition ©2013--
Paperback ©2014--
To purchase this item, you must first login or register for a new account.
Random House
Annotation: Ever since they were Snotsippers, Jack and the girl have fought, until one day she steals his bike and as he and the Amigos try to recover it, Jack realizes that he is growing up and must eventually leave the "goodlands and badlands of Hokey Pokey."
 
Reviews: 10
Catalog Number: #82417
Format: Perma-Bound Edition
Publisher: Random House
Copyright Date: 2013
Edition Date: 2014 Release Date: 04/22/14
Pages: 285 pages
ISBN: Publisher: 0-440-42051-2 Perma-Bound: 0-605-81939-4
ISBN 13: Publisher: 978-0-440-42051-4 Perma-Bound: 978-0-605-81939-9
Dewey: Fic
LCCN: 2012004177
Dimensions: 20 cm.
Language: English
Reviews:
School Library Journal (Tue Jan 01 00:00:00 CST 2013)

Gr 5-7 In the land of Hokey Pokey, kids reign supreme. There are no adults, only older kids to guide the younger ones through their days of play and exploration. Jack, an older boy, has become a legend, roaming Hokey Pokey on his wild bike, Scramjet. When Scramjet is stolen by his rival, wild girl Jubilee, Jack's life suddenly seems meaningless. As the day winds on, Jack finds that it is not only the absence of his beloved bike that has left him feeling off center. He soon realizes that only he can hear the train's call in the distance&30;a train that seems to be coming on what had always been empty tracks. While Spinelli's coming-of-age tale (Knopf, 2013) builds a marvelous metaphor for leaving childhood, the book is more enjoyable in print format. Narrators Maxwell Glick and Tara Sands both do an admirable job, but Spinelli's almost stream-of-consciousness writing style is slightly confusing to experience only audibly. The print version also contains a map of Hokey Pokey which grounds readers as they enter this dreamlike world. Jessica Miller, West Springfield Public Library, MA

Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)

If childhood were a place…. In the adultless land of Hokey Pokey, a dry, sandy environment reminiscent of the Southwest, children arrive when they've outgrown diapers and receive a ticklish tattoo of an eye on their abdomens. At midday they line up for a serving of hokey pokey, an ice treat in any flavor imaginable. The rest of their day is spent playing, watching a giant television with nonstop cartoons or riding bicycles, which are horselike creatures that roll in herds and can buck their owners off at will. In this inventive, modern fable, Jack awakens with a bad feeling that's realized when his legendary Scramjet bike is stolen by Jubilee, a girl no less, and his tattoo has started to fade. As he searches for his bike and the reason why "[t]he world is rushing at him, confusing him, alarming him," he recalls The Story about The Kid who grew up and hinted at tomorrow, an unrecognizable place to children. With nods to J.M. Barrie, Dr. Seuss and Philip Pullman, Newbery Medalist Spinelli crafts stunning turns of phrase as Jack "unfunks" and tries to "dehappen" the day's events. While reluctantly accepting his growing up, Jack brings Hokey Pokey's bully to justice, suddenly finds Jubilee an interesting companion and prepares his Amigos for his imminent departure. A masterful, bittersweet recognition of coming-of-age. (Fiction. 10-13, adult)

Horn Book (Thu Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2013)

With landmarks including "Forbidden Hut" and "Gorilla Hill" (a mound of dirt), Hokey Pokey is a Neverland-like world peopled by children characterized as "Newbies," "Snotsippers," "Sillynillies," and "Gappergums." Spinelli's allegory of Childhood Lost can be alienating in its improvisatory nature, with stream-of-consciousness run-on sentences and made-up words. Some readers may thrill to the narrative style, just as others will find it impenetrable.

Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews (Thu Apr 28 00:00:00 CDT 2022)

If childhood were a place…. In the adultless land of Hokey Pokey, a dry, sandy environment reminiscent of the Southwest, children arrive when they've outgrown diapers and receive a ticklish tattoo of an eye on their abdomens. At midday they line up for a serving of hokey pokey, an ice treat in any flavor imaginable. The rest of their day is spent playing, watching a giant television with nonstop cartoons or riding bicycles, which are horselike creatures that roll in herds and can buck their owners off at will. In this inventive, modern fable, Jack awakens with a bad feeling that's realized when his legendary Scramjet bike is stolen by Jubilee, a girl no less, and his tattoo has started to fade. As he searches for his bike and the reason why "[t]he world is rushing at him, confusing him, alarming him," he recalls The Story about The Kid who grew up and hinted at tomorrow, an unrecognizable place to children. With nods to J.M. Barrie, Dr. Seuss and Philip Pullman, Newbery Medalist Spinelli crafts stunning turns of phrase as Jack "unfunks" and tries to "dehappen" the day's events. While reluctantly accepting his growing up, Jack brings Hokey Pokey's bully to justice, suddenly finds Jubilee an interesting companion and prepares his Amigos for his imminent departure. A masterful, bittersweet recognition of coming-of-age. (Fiction. 10-13, adult)

ALA Booklist (Thu Nov 01 00:00:00 CDT 2012)

In the place called Hokey Pokey, the kids wbies, Snotsippers, Gapergums, Sillynillys, Longspitters, Groundhog Chasers, and Big Kids e everywhere, doing what kids do: streaking, leaping, chasing, shrieking, hokeypokeying, and more. In short, playing. Yes, kids are everywhere, but there isn't an adult anywhere except for the Hokey Pokey Man, who brings square snowball treats to the kids. It's here in this eccentric place that Jack, a popular Big Kid, awakens one morning to hear the whispered words "It's time." Could this have something to do with the story all the kids know, in which The Kid announces, "I am going away"? Readers will find out as they follow Jack throughout one memorable day of discoveries, including the knowledge of something called tomorrow. Spinelli has written a tender, bittersweet story of coming of age and the changes and leave-takings it involves. In its spirit and style, the novel evokes Ray Bradbury's sometimes sentimental, nostalgic work, especially Dandelion Wine. Spinelli remains his own man, however, and his latest sui generis novel is sure to delight his many fans. HIGH-DEMAND BACKSTORY: An extensive outreach campaign that ranges from a designated hashtag to a national author tour has put this title on the radar of readers well beyond Spinelli's already large audience.

Reviewing Agencies: - Find Other Reviewed Titles
Wilson's Children's Catalog
School Library Journal (Tue Jan 01 00:00:00 CST 2013)
Kirkus Reviews (Fri Oct 04 00:00:00 CDT 2024)
School Library Journal Starred Review (Tue Jan 01 00:00:00 CST 2013)
Voice of Youth Advocates
Bulletin of the Center for Children's Books
Horn Book (Thu Aug 01 00:00:00 CDT 2013)
Wilson's Junior High Catalog
Starred Review for Kirkus Reviews (Thu Apr 28 00:00:00 CDT 2022)
ALA Booklist (Thu Nov 01 00:00:00 CDT 2012)
Word Count: 38,761
Reading Level: 3.6
Interest Level: 5-9
Accelerated Reader: reading level: 3.6 / points: 5.0 / quiz: 156083 / grade: Middle Grades+
Reading Counts!: reading level:4.4 / points:11.0 / quiz:Q60050
Lexile: HL600L
All night long Seven Sisters whisper and giggle and then, all together, they rush Orion the Hunter and tickle him, and Orion the Hunter laughs so hard he shakes every star in the sky, not to mention Mooncow, who loses her balance and falls--puh-loop!--into Big Dipper, which tip-tip-tips and dumps Mooncow into Milky Way, and Mooncow laughs and splashes and rolls on her back and goes floating down down down Milky Way, and she laughs a great moomoonlaugh and kicks at a lavender star and the star goes shooting across the sky, up the sky and down the sky, a lavender snowfireball down the highnight down . . . 

down . . .

down . . . 

down . . .



Today



Jack

. . . to Hokey Pokey . . .

. . . where it lands, a golden bubble now, a starborn bead, lands and softly pips upon the nose of sleeping Jack and spills a whispered word:

it's

and then another:

time



Something is wrong.

He knows it before he opens his eyes.

He looks.

His bike is gone!

Scramjet!

What more could he have done? He parked it so close that when he shut his eyes to sleep, he could smell the rubber of the tires, the grease on the chain.

And still she took it. His beloved Scramjet. He won't say her name. He never says her name, only her kind, sneers it to the morning star: "Girl."

He runs to the rim of the bluff, looks up the tracks, down the tracks. There she is, ponytail flying from the back of her baseball cap, the spokes of the wheels--his wheels--plum-spun in the thistledown dawn.

He waves his fist, shouts from the bluff: "I'll get you!"

The tracks curve, double back. He can cut her off!

He sneakerskis down the gullied red-clay slope, leaps the tracks, plunges into the jungle and runs--phloot!--into a soft, vast, pillowy mass. Oh no! Not again! He only thinks this. He cannot say it because the front half of himself, including his face, is buried in the hippopotamoid belly of Wanda's monster. This has happened before. He wags his head hard, throws it back, and--ttthok!--his face comes free.

"Wan-daaa!" he bellows. "Wake up!"

Wanda stirs in a bed of mayapples.

"Wanda!"

The moment Wanda awakes, her monster vanishes in a puff of apricots, dropflopping Jack to the ground. He's up in an instant and off again.

Every other step is a leap over a sleeper. All is quiet save thunder beyond the trees and the thump of the sun bumping the underside of the horizon.

He hoprocks across the creek, past the island of Forbidden Hut, and pulls up huffing at the far loop end of the tracks. He looks up, looks down.

Nothing.

He slumps exhausted to the steel rail. He stares at his sneaker tops. He gasps, reflects. She said she would do it. "I'm going to take--" No, to be accurate, she didn't say take, she said ride: "I'm going to ride your bike." And who knows? Maybe if she had said it nicely . . . maybe if she wasn't a girl. But she is a girl and she said it with that snaily smirk, but there was no way she was ever coming within ten long spits of his bike.

But she did.

And he hates her. He hates her for taking the thing he loves most in this world. But maybe even more, he hates her for being right.

He pushes himself up from the rail. Once more he casts forlorn eyes up and down the tracks that no train travels. He cries out: "Scramjet!" This is too painful to bear alone. From the black tarpit of despair he rips his Tarzan yell and hurls it into the jungle and over the creek and across the dreamlands of Hokey Pokey.

Excerpted from Hokey Pokey by Jerry Spinelli
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.

Welcome to Hokey Pokey. A place and a time, when childhood is at its best: games to play, bikes to ride, experiences to be had. There are no adults in Hokey Pokey, just kids, and the laws governing Hokey Pokey are simple and finite. But when one of the biggest kids, Jack, has his beloved bike stolen—and by a girl, no less—his entire world, and the world of Hokey Pokey, turns to chaos. Without his bike, Jack feels like everything has started to go wrong. He feels different, not like himself, and he knows something is about to change. And even more troubling he alone hears a faint train whistle. But that's impossible: every kid knows there no trains in Hokey Pokey, only tracks.

Master storyteller Jerry Spinelli has written a dizzingly inventive fable of growing up and letting go, of leaving childhood and its imagination play behind for the more dazzling adventures of adolescence, and of learning to accept not only the sunny part of day, but the unwelcome arrival of night, as well.


*Prices subject to change without notice and listed in US dollars.
Perma-Bound bindings are unconditionally guaranteed (excludes textbook rebinding).
Paperbacks are not guaranteed.
Please Note: All Digital Material Sales Final.