First published January 1, 1964

Things are tense here, with a ballott initiative for my school up in November. If it fails, the district will cut ALL the librarians. I will have to retire with 28 years of service. It's hard to think about reading new books being published in January 2026 and making orders for August of 2026 when I may not be here. 

Hence, comfort reading. I collected midcentury teen literature for a while, so have been hitting those titles hard. When I realized I didn't have a post for today (I'm scheduled through mid January 2026; things fall through the carcks), I thought I'd pop this one on. Haven't missed a day of reviewing since January 1, 2012. There is actually still a copy of this title on my library shelves. 

 

Cavanna, Betty. Jenny Kimura

William Morrow, January 1, 1964

Personal Copy

Jenny Kimura Smith lives in Tokyo with her mother, who is Japanese, and her father, who is an American who is a banker. Their home is a mix of Japanese and Western furnishings, and Jenny Kimura has grown up speaking both languages. When she turns 16, she is sent to Kansas City to visit her father's mother, Mrs. Smith. It is a tense experience, and talking to a brash, older American woman on the plane makes Jenny worry more. Her grandmother seems nice, and has a large house with a pool. Leona, a Black woman, "lives in" and works for Mrs. Smith, cooking and cleaning. She is often referred to as a Negro, because that was the polite convention when this book was written in 1964. Mrs. Smith is much different from Jenny's other grandmother, who is described as older and more worn, even though she is two years younger. Mrs. Smith swims, golfs, and gardens, and is very involved in various community activities like being a Gray Lady at the hospital, being in garden club, bridge groups, and charity committees. There is a party for young people in the area to meet Jenny, and Alan asks Jenny out to various places like the drive in movie, and even a family wedding. Jenny wears her kimono, since it is a special occasion, and this embarrassed her grandmother, who thinks that Jenny is calling attention to herself. Alan remains attentive even after his mother makes a few comments that make Jenny feel she does not approve of her relationship with Alan. When Mrs. Smith and Jenny go to Cape Cod to visit Jenny's cousin Dick (whose father died in the war, apparently in hand-to-hand combat with a Japanese soldier), Jenny learns a few more things about her family. She also meets George Yamada, who was born in an internment camp, and whose family lost their farm. Her grandmother doesn't seem to like her hanging out with George, and when Alan comes to visit, things are even more tense. When Jenny almost drowns in a boating incident, George comes to her rescue, and her grandmother seems more accepting. 

This was fairly progressive for the time; my father, who was seven when Pearl Harbor was bombed, was not overly fond of Japanese people until the end of his life. I can't imagine the prejudice in the early 1960s. Mixed marriages (another term from that time period) were very fraught. Mrs. Smith, even though she has several negative moments, does seem to care for her granddaughter, and is a decent person who is having trouble navigating a social situation she doesn't quite know how to deal with. Jenny understands some of the prejudice, but is certainly angered from time to time. While Cavanna was not Japanese, she did dedicate the book to someone with a Japanese name, so perhaps she drew on some personal experiences. 

The inclusion of light romance is not surprising, given Cavanna's other work. 

While there are many dated things in this book (Japanese women don't drive, Leona is a problematic character from today's perspective), it is a hugely interesting slice of life from a different perspective, and a valuable look at what life was like in the early 1960s. 

I can't even find anything much to be snarky about, and I did like the portrayal of the 62 year old Mrs. Smith as active and engaged! Modern middle grade authors should take note!