about the excellent cast of characters in THE GRAND PLAN. Aside from Dini and her family, Dolly, and Dini’s friend Maddie, there is Mr. Chickoo Dev, the potato-nosed owner of Sunny Villa Estates; his niece Priya, who clues Dini in to some of the goings-on; super-postman Lal; and Mr. Soli Dustup, desperate fillum producer. All of these characters are distinct and well-drawn, and each contributes something directly to the plot. When each of these characters comes on the scene to do his or her part, I can almost feel the plot moving toward its resolution. There is nothing wasted here. Especially not the monkeys in the rain barrel.

Comparing this book to other WWII books is the best way for me to talk about it objectively, strange as that might seem. Otherwise, with this book, with The Queen of Water, with Inside Out and Back Again, it can be difficult to form any literary criticisms–anything I say makes me feel guilty, as if I’m criticizing the experiences of the people who lived these stories (whether memoir or historical fiction). Comparing BSOG to, say, The Upstairs Room (a brilliant book that I appreciate more all the time) or The Devil’s Arithmetic gets me comparing apples and apples.

Don’t get me wrong, I think this is a really good book (except for the epilogue), and I’d have no objection to seeing it on either Newbery or Printz platforms. The Lithuanian culture of the deportees, especially, is splendidly described and never heavy-handed or didactic. I would love to know more about the Baltic countries.

(and I am so, so honored to have my post mentioned by the author of Keeper!)

While it’s true that Bollywood provides an overlaying theme, the underlying theme here is friendship. Underneath the whimsy of this story is Dini’s very real need to maintain her friendship with Maddie. Dolly Singh is their connection, their hero, but Dolly is missing, the key word being “missing.” This story is one for our day–it asks us to question how much technology can do to keep friends together? Dini and Maddie have access to the internet, after all. They’re frequently in touch. But how far can “in touch” take them without being in the same physical space? As well, not only are the two girls spanning the globe, they’re spanning cultures. So the book is asking that question too–can friends survive their families’ cultural differences? They’re crossing time and space and culture. Another author could have made this heavy-handed, suggesting that there were so many things to overcome that any friendship might be on the verge of impossible. Thank goodness she didn’t go there.

As well, Krishnaswami paints a vivid picture of her setting. The details she gives us are pungent and vivid, a fully-fledged all-five-senses engagement with the place.

But what I think works so well above all, is the grappling that the story does with kismet. Is there coincidence? Yes. But each seemingly coincidental moment is riven with the notion that fate is at play. To a certain extent, every story has its share of coincidences. The question is always, “will the reader buy it?” or will that same reader be left going, “sure, yeah, like that would really happen.” In the case of this story, each coincidental plot point makes sense. We can see whatever reason precipitated it, and are allowed to become fully swept up into the events as they unfold, and at the same time, we’re willing to buy the idea that fate just might be interjecting itself a wee bit. If there is magic in a movie, can’t there be magic in real life? Dini is hoping so. Even the name of the place, loosely translated to “magic mountain,” suggests this, but that is also balanced with the everyday, realism of Dini’s mother’s work at the women’s clinic.

But regardless of Dini’s knowledge of Bollywood-style magic, she is not one to stand by and let fate take its natural course; that would be out of character, yes? So, perhaps because she’s a child of two cultures, she gives fate a nudge over and over. She sets things into motion with the writing of that letter. She defies hope. Such a twelve-year-old girl kind of action. And yet, from the very beginning, she experiences those moments when “she has heard of hearts sinking” and knows that that is exactly what her heart is doing. The reader begins to feel that if Dini cannot find Dolly, then it’s highly possible that she cannot hang onto Maddie. What an amazing feat.

Who couldn’t love a character like that? And because we do, it’s as if the whole world joins in to give her a little boost. Karma steps in. (Leading us to another whole topic of discussion).

On top of all this, there is misunderstanding, there are issues of loyalty, there is romance, there is arranged marriage, there is tea.

I also really, really love the idea that art, in this case film, can go a long way toward both illuminating and bridging our cultural differences. Maddie and Dini are proof.

And while the ending is so richly satisfying, it doesn’t come with a neatly tied bow. The questions about the girls’ friendship are mollified, but not necessarily answered. We’re left wondering what fate still has in store for them, as well as for Dolly Singh.

Does this story have depth? There is plenty of depth here.