Memory Jars by Vera Brosgol (review)

Freda feasts herself into a meltdown on the blueberries she and her gran picked. Gran reassures her there’s no need to eat them all at once; making them into the jam that her late grandfather so loved would extend their deliciousness. If blueberries can be preserved in a jar, Freda reasons, perhaps other things can be as well, so she collects more jars and stashes away other things she can’t bear to lose, from new crayons to unbroken robins’ eggs. And why not people? Her best friend Jack, soon to move out of state, goes into a jar, as do lovely songs, clouds, the moon and stars, and even Gran, whose willingness to play along subtly signals confidence that Freda is about to figure out the flaw in this endeavor. Sure enough; breakfast with toast and jam but no Gran is just wrong, and Freda releases Gran, certain now that sweetness is preserved in memory. Freda’s brown face, with her hair pulled back in unruly braids or a tidy bun, is a ready canvas for expressive eyes and arched brows to register mischief, affection, and understanding. Brosgol gives her plenty to emote about, infusing her dilemma with visual humor and genuine charm at every turn: Freda’s floor-pounding histrionics over blueberry deprivation; the clever foreshadowing of a plot twist when Freda jars up an unmelted Rocket Pop; even a winking post-revelation twist that acknowledges that there are some things awfully difficult to release. A recipe for blueberry jam, which thoughtfully notes when it’s safe to lick the spoon, is appended.