The Camel Bookmobile is the kind of novel that made me love reading in the first place. Fiona Sweeney travels from New York City to Africa to bring books on camels to villages that follow the rains. In this world, books are as threatening as they are liberating, and their mere presence causes a variety of personal reactions in the people the bookmobile "serves." Fi is drawn into these intrigues in little Mididima when she goes to help resolve a crisis over some missing books. The villagers are no blank slates waiting for the miracle of books -- she rides into a hotbed of desire, disappointment, genius, loss, and love.
Masha Hamilton's long experience reporting all over the world informs her work; her novels don't serve up tidy endings. Here she acknowledges the mundane reality that things do fall apart, but it is effort and intention that make the meaning of things. Cultures clash in The Camel Bookmobile, good intentions may be misplaced -- or not. Hamilton shows how seeds of change never grow in neat rows; and though the gardener may not be present at the harvest, it doesn't mean it was futile to lay the plants.