Ma and Pa Dracula Book

Most of Ann M. Martin's standalone novels are markedly realistic, written with an underlying sense of absolute authenticity in the tradition of Kevin Henkes, Judy Blume and Margaret Wise Brown. Even in a story like Ma and Pa Dracula, obviously classifiable as fantasy literature, Ann M. Martin retains her realistic view of the world; and, most importantly, of human emotions. There's no magic ending to be had in this book, no wave of a spell-caster's wand to undo all mistakes at the last minute and create a happy ending out of nothing. As wacky as the story's premise may appear at first glance, the characters in Ma and Pa Dracula are solidly grounded in the real world: genuine, caring people who put family first even when it's terribly inconvenient, and are passionate about making a good life for their loved ones no matter how hard, at times, that can be. Your average person doesn't have vampire parents, and thus never has to deal with the specific issues encountered by nine-year-old Jonathan Primave when he discovers the shocking truth about his gothic mother and father, but readers will see the same weaknesses, courage and affection in Jonathan's parents as they observe in their own. Parents are parents, no matter the extraneous details. The good ones love without ceasing and don't lose heart when boundaries suddenly move, demonstrate honesty with their kids even when it's easier to withhold some difficult truths, and know when to step back and let their children work matters out on their own, though everything within them strains to offer assistance. That's what makes Ma and Pa Dracula such a fine novel, I believe. Amidst all the humor and occasional craziness of the plot, this is a book with heart, and one can't help but feel it on a deeply personal level.

Jonathan has never spent much energy questioning his parents about their nocturnal lifestyle, or why they go out every night and leave him in the care of Mr. Saginaw, his tutor and keeper. To Jonathan, his parents' eccentricities are perfectly normal, because he hasn't been influenced by modern books, television or other media that would inform him otherwise. When Mr. Saginaw introduces Jonathan to a few works of modern literature, however, the experience opens Jonathan's eyes to the vast and diverse world outside his home, a world that generally carries out its business during daylight hours. Jonathan is so used to sleeping days and staying awake all night that learning most of the world does the opposite is a major revelation. But Jonathan's parents have never meant to lie to him, and when their son confronts them with his new knowledge and begins asking questions, they acquiesce to his desire to know the whole story. Jonathan's parents are vampires, each hundreds of years old. They wanted more than just the runaround nightlife a vampire leads, and so they decided upon adopting a boy, a real human boy they could raise as their son and love as fondly and completely as if he were biologically their own. Now Jonathan's interests are shifting toward the regular world, though, and what it has to offer a nine-year-old human, and his parents aren't enthusiastic about him joining a public school or taking on standard human hours of sleeping and waking. How often would they see their son if he changed his sleep schedule to accommodate regular school? Yet they know Jonathan is earnest in his desire to join, at least in part, the mainstream of human society, so they agree to send him to school.

Sometimes it takes a long while to adjust to new people and make friends, to find a niche where one truly belongs and can find happiness with one's peers. Jonathan, however, is granted the mercy of no such wait being required. When he meets a girl named Tobi playing near his house, the start of their friendship is immediate, and Tobi is the sort of girl unafraid to bring an unusual boy like Jonathan into the center of activity and show the other kids why he's worth having for a friend. Years of classical education under Mr. Saginaw have caused Jonathan to develop an overly formal manner of speaking, especially for a boy of nine, and despite reading more than ever these days, many modern technologies continue to elude Jonathan's comprehension. But Tobi knows just how to help Jonathan loosen up and adapt to his new environment, encouraging him to shed some of his antiquated terms and talk more like the other kids in his class. She even helps Jonathan dress more normally, ditching the formalwear for street clothes one might find any kid in America wearing.

School is going well, and Jonathan feels more engaged in life than ever before with new friends and a schedule that allows him to explore the world when it's light outside, but a big problem threatens his newfound happiness. When the location and funding for the class Halloween party fall through only days prior to the event, Jonathan's class is upset they will have to cancel the party. Impulsively, Jonathan volunteers his parents' big, scary manor to house the event, but even as he's speaking the words, he knows it's a bad idea. Jonathan and his parents have always had to move from town to town on a frequent basis, and though Jonathan spent most of his life in the dark as to why, he knows now the moves come when the local blood bank dips too low, and the nightly allotments his parents consume there become conspicuous to the staff. Now, such a short time after moving to this new town, the blood banks are already running alarmingly low, and it is only Jonathan's desperate pleas that he not be forced to move away from the only regular school and friends he's ever known that keep the family from hitting the road yet again. With his parents increasingly low on food and energy, forced to resort to sucking the blood from freshly killed animals on local roads, Jonathan feels a lingering fear of what they might do when presented with the temptation of so many young necks at the Halloween party. Is it wise to dangle such sumptuous fare before a couple of vampires enduring their worst famine in hundreds of years? But Jonathan knows his parents, and they would never attack a child. He's never felt fearful at all around them, and he's a human filled with blood like anyone else. It's silly of Jonathan to even think his parents could be capable of biting his classmates...isn't it?

As the night of the Halloween party draws near and Jonathan continues to settle into a comfortable rapport with his friends, experiencing the full sweetness of peer relationships for the first time in his life, the nagging worries about his class party don't go away. Furthermore, Jonathan is concerned about his ailing parents, who haven't had proper nourishment for some time and grow paler and weaker by the day. Having so many wonderful people and opportunities he never dreamed were available to him is a continually rejuvenating joy for Jonathan, and it has taken such a short while to form attachments to the other kids in his class, especially Tobi, but Jonathan loves his parents no less than he did back in the days when they (along with Mr. Saginaw) were his whole world. Jonathan fears for their well-being, and doesn't know where the future is about to take the four of them. But what can Jonathan do to help his parents? Can he give up everything that has come to mean so much to him these past months? Would his parents even ask him to make such a sacrifice? It's a conundrum, one the reader will feel especially strongly because of how easy it is to become invested in the people in this book, and it leads to an understated yet powerful conclusion one isn't likely to forget.

What is it about this book that so deeply affects the reader's heart? Ann M. Martin does a beautiful job painting with such short strokes a cast of warm, sincere characters one can grow to love fiercely in only a few pages, loyalty and tenderness toward them growing strong before we realize it has happened. You'll come to care about the characters in this book, to see them as friends you wouldn't consider your life complete without. And so the turn of the final page feels like the last leaf of autumn, to a degree, though you know the season's resplendent colors can never be dulled in your memory, and there's always a new beginning to look forward to with the advent of spring only a few months away. By the same token, one can flip back to page one of Ma and Pa Dracula at any time and enjoy the story over again, reliving its warm, natural humor and subtle sweetness. Not every book is capable of permanently affecting the human heart in a positive way, reminding us what is so wonderful about life even during its bittersweet moments, but Ma and Pa Dracula is just such a book, and I love it. I will always hold this book dear to my heart.

No matter the literary award, Ma and Pa Dracula would have been deserving, in my opinion, at least of serious consideration. I could easily see it as a Newbery book for 1990, probably an Honor recipient (I don't think anything was going to beat out Lois Lowry's Number the Stars for the Medal that year). I can't fathom why Ma and Pa Dracula isn't more widely known and read, because I haven't experienced a nicer book in a long time, and I know there are many other kids out there who would love it as much as I do. I would give three and a half stars to Ma and Pa Dracula, and I recommend it for every kid in the world who longs for a personally affecting, emotionally memorable story they will think back on often as something special, the kind of book that reaffirms why one reads in the first place. From the bottom of my heart, thank you, Ann M. Martin, for Ma and Pa Dracula.