2022 Contenders: The House That Wasn't There, by Elana K. Arnold

 

Plenty of our authors who write for young people produce books for different age groups. However, it's usually easy to spot a common sensibility. Even if Hole in My Life and Rotten Ralph are for widely disparate audiences, no reader is going to walk away wondering if they're actually both from the pen of Jack Gantos, for instance.

And then there's Elana K. Arnold, who might be our most chameleonic American children's author currently working. Her YA work, such as the fiery and blood-drenched Damsel and Red Hood, seems a long, long way away from the gentle coziness of A Boy Called Bat, or the low-key delight of What Riley Wore. There aren't any narrative tricks or obvious markers in the prose that serve as a common thread; if I didn't already know that all of these books were hers, I doubt I ever would have suspected that she had produced each one of them.

Since I do know that, however, it's worth digging deeper to see if there's anything that underpins all of Arnold's work. I'd argue that yes, there is a unifying theme: that it's impossible to thrive in the world unless a person can accept themselves for who they are -- and that one's true friends and real family are the people who also provide that acceptance and love. 

That's exactly the feeling I got while reading Arnold's newest middle-grade title, The House That Wasn't There. It's a story that follows two characters -- Alder, who has lived in his southern California neighborhood for his whole life, and Oak, who has just had to move from San Francisco to the house next to Alder's. Their initial encounters are rocky, as Oak's family is remodeling their new house, which results in an immediate casualty -- the beautiful old walnut tree that stands between her house and Alder's. Let's just say that this doesn't dispose Alder and his mother to think kindly of Oak and her mother.

I'm not sure it's possible to explain where the plot goes from there without giving the whole thing away. There are strong elements of magical realism at play, along with such more grounded concerns such as learning to navigate shifting friendships, caring for new pets properly, and understanding family dynamics. There's also a beautifully-executed double twist ending that I found deeply enjoyable, and a satisfying emotional arc (filled with that acceptance and love that I mentioned) for both of our protagonists.

As is sometimes the case in stories suffused with magical realism, there are several elements in the book that remain unexplained. This isn't taken to an extreme -- The House That Wasn't There isn't Orphan Island or A Boy and a Bear in a Boat, those books that seem to deliberately test the boundaries of how many unanswered questions the reader is willing to entertain. But I would caution anyone picking up The House That Wasn't There that, if they expect the novel to be a puzzle box like When You Reach Me or The Westing Game, they may want to adjust said expectations. 

Arnold's recognition from the ALA committees thus far has been for her YA work (Damsel was a Printz Honor title in 2019). As I've previously noted, I'm making no attempts to handicap the Newbery this year, but I would say that The House That Wasn't There is of a high enough quality that, should it place this year, I wouldn't be the slightest bit surprised. 

Published in March by Walden Pond Press / HarperCollins