Oppel, Kenneth. Airborn

This is the kind of book that I thought didn't win awards. So, boo-yah to the ALA. They got one right.

In what seems to be an alternate history of the Victorian era, Matt Cruse is cabin boy on the Aurora, a big zeppelin-like flying cruise ship, where he's been working since he was 12, when his father died on the same ship, in order to earn money for his mother and sisters. He loves it more than anything else and wants to be its captain someday. Then one day he rescues a man flying in a battered little gondola, who talks some nonsense and then dies. Six month later, his granddaughter Kate shows up as a passenger on the Aurora, convinced from her grandfather's notes that there are some as-yet-undiscovered flying creatures out there, and determined to find out more about them. And then there are pirates! And a shipwreck! And, and!

In brief, this reads like a very good old-fashioned adventure yarn--like Treasure Island, or the like. It's quick all the way through, with deliciously written action scenes, perfect pacing, a tightly-wound plot. On top of that are some flashes of feminism and class consciousness; not groaningly anachronistic ones, thank goodness, but ones that are fairly subtle and honest. And while the character-building is not as subtle or detailed as in some more literary novels, I think the book does justice to his ambition, his need for approval, his idolization of his father and his grief for him. I believed in Matt and cheered for him.

Another thing this novel does splendidly is "incluing," which is a term used in science fiction fandom to refer to very gentle suggestions about the world around the characters. Much is never stated explicitly; we don't even know what year it is. But we know that knee-length skirts are almost scandalously short, that child labor hasn't really been outlawed yet, that some pursuits are not considered appropriate for young ladies--and without any long monologues, it gives a very good picture of the world.

I wouldn't be me if I couldn't find something to complain about, so let's just say that an ending that happy, that wraps up so many loose ends just right, stretches my belief just slightly. But that hardly seems worth complaining about, especially if one wants to situate this in the tradition of novels like Treasure Island.

Here's some deliciously written action scene, then:

My wrist throbbed as I began slashing through the seventh line. With a mighty crack the frayed rope snapped high into the air, and the entire gondola slewed over. The unconscious pilot slid toward me and crumpled up against the low side. Without the crane's cable holding us, we would have been tipped into the sea. I hauled myself to the high side and the last light flight line. The smell of burning fabric was terrible now, though luckily the smoke and flames were mostly dancing up away from me. But the weight of the blazing balloon was oozing down over the frame now, starting to engulf the gondola.