Just before teenage Samuel’s mother died, she told him to go to the Brazilian town of Candeia, to find his estranged family and light a candle at the feet of the statue of St. Anthony. When Samuel arrives in the dilapidated town, circumstances lead him to take up residence in the statue’s head, long separated from its body. Inside the head, Samuel hears voices of women praying to the saint for husbands . . . and a mysterious voice singing sad but lovely songs. Playing matchmaker helps Samuel revitalize the town (and earn a tidy profit), but as happy couples flock to the church, secrets from the past begin to weigh on the present. Why did Candeia become all but a ghost town? Why isn’t St. Anthony’s head attached to his body? Who is the mysterious singer, and why does she sing such sad songs? Like the advice Samuel gives out in the name of the saint, Samuel’s mother’s last requests have implications far beyond their surface meanings.

This slim YA novel exemplifies the best of magical realism—as it should. Brazilian author Socorro Acioli had the opportunity to workshop the manuscript that would become The Head of the Saint with renowned Latin American author Gabriel García Márquez. If you like Márquez's work—or more contemporary multigenerational tales with a touch of magic (like Leslye Walton’s The Strange and Beautiful Sorrows of Ava Lavender)—you’ll also like The Head of the Saint.

Jill Ratzan matches readers with books in a small library in southeastern Pennsylvania.

BookPage Teen Top Pick, October 2015

Every once in a while a book comes along that inspires readers to rethink everything they thought they knew about how fiction works. Given author A.S. King’s talent for writing boundary-pushing YA lit, it’s no surprise that her latest offering does exactly that.

Gustav is building a red helicopter that the biology-obsessed Stanzi—which isn’t her real name—can only see on Tuesdays. China, a poet, has turned herself inside out. Lansdale’s hair grows every time she tells a lie, which is often. All four teens, hiding their pain behind elaborate defense mechanisms, are desperate to escape a life in which parents tour the sites of school shootings, abusers walk free and daily bomb threats disrupt their classes . . . especially as the time for high-stakes testing looms. And all the while, a strange man who lurks in a bush sells letters (like A, B, C, not the kind with stamps) in return for kisses and other favors.

When Gustav’s helicopter is finished, he and Stanzi fly it to the haunting Place of Arrivals—where, in theory, there are no departures. But one resident has already departed, and another hopes to be next. 

References to cultural icons such as “M*A*S*H,” Amadeus and “Sesame Street” (at least in my interpretation of the letter-selling man) give characters a language to express the inexpressible. Surreal and unsettling but ultimately redemptive, this piece of magical realism—if that indeed is what it is—will speak to fans of Francesca Lia Block and anyone seeking a thoroughly postmodern read.

Jill Ratzan matches readers with books in a small library in southeastern Pennsylvania.

This article was originally published in the October 2015 issue of BookPage. Download the entire issue for the Kindle or Nook.