Reviews for Iz the Apocalypse:
Quill and Quire:
In Susan Currie’s contemporary teen novel Iz the Apocalypse, readers meet Isabelle Beaufort, an eighth grader within the foster care system. In her 14 years, Iz has already been shuttled between 26 foster homes and 14 different schools. Currently enrolled in the public school system, Iz lives with foster parent Pat, a rather placid yet kindly woman who is kept preoccupied by her daughter Britnee’s extensive wedding preparations.
While attending a performance with classmates one day, Iz finds her life’s direction changed upon experiencing the electrifying musical prowess of the student ensemble Manifesto, from local, prestigious music academy The Métier School. As a quietly self-taught guitar player and aspiring songwriter with raw vocal power and a soon-to-be-discovered gifted ear for musical talent, Iz finds a surprisingly determined spark lit within her. She decides that she must take matters into her own hands and secretly secure a coveted spot at Métier and within Manifesto.
Readers will be asked to suspend various levels of disbelief as Iz successfully bests – at least for a period of time – Pat, her case worker, multiple professors, and the administrative systems of two schools as she begins at Métier. There are serious repercussions, however, when Iz’s lies of omission and poor judgment calls catch up to her, and Currie takes readers on an educative yet heartbreaking view through stages of sanctions and punishment within foster care and youth sentencing. Even as Iz’s trajectory takes a serious dive, and amid fallout with certain individuals, there are beautifully woven threads of unyielding support in the form of mentors, professors, newly made friends at Métier, and select community members who take a vested interest in seeing Iz survive and flourish.
Currie’s writing is genuinely engaging and does very well in balancing the exhilarating, sometimes dystopian angles of Iz’s musical journey with the day-to-day realities of trying to cope as a young girl in unfathomably difficult circumstances. The writing is at its sharpest and most poignant not only during highly focused music scenes – particularly in Iz’s exploration of composer Franz Schubert’s Winterreise and “Erlkönig” – but also when readers are shown the bureaucracy entrenched in social and educational systems.
Due to Iz’s age and accompanying emotional tensions, the novel may land more solidly with an upper middle-grade readership, but overall, this is a highly readable, affecting story of an exceptional young teen, centred around music and second chances.
Kirkus:
Fourteen-year-old Isabelle Beaufort is all-too-familiar with the foster care system.
In her short life, she has been in 26 homes and 14 schools. Now in eighth grade, Iz discovers the Métier School, a private international high school for musically gifted young people. Iz, who taught herself to play a guitar she found in a dumpster, hatches a plan to get herself into the prestigious school by forging transcripts and recommendations. When her plan succeeds, she faces new challenges—lying to her foster mother, explaining her lack of formal musical training to the Métier faculty, and finding tuition money. Even as she begins to chafe under the burden of her lies, Iz experiences a completely different life. Now she has friends, a job, and a support system, although she struggles in her new milieu as well. The largely more privileged Métier students make jokes and have conversations that only those with insider musical knowledge will understand. This feel-good story asks readers to suspend disbelief but also sheds light on the plight of many young people caught up in the foster care system. Iz has flashbacks to something traumatic that happened at a former home she calls “That Place,” but she finds healing and catharsis through songwriting and music. Iz reads white; there is ethnic diversity in the supporting cast.
A compassionate, character-driven story that will particularly resonate with music lovers.(Fiction. 12-16)
Canadian Materials:
Iz Beaufort, a 14-year-old talented singer/songwriter, has been in 26 foster homes and 14 schools. She spends much of her time alone, not wanting to attract attention, while keeping the memories of That Place at bay. When her current school takes her on a field trip to see a concert by Manifesto, a high-performance orchestra of talented students from the Métier School, Iz is moved to tears and vows that she will attend the school and win a place in Manifesto. Somehow, Iz must figure out how to get into this school and overcome not having any formal musical training, but also not having any money to pay the $1500 per month tuition. After Iz fakes her transcripts and reference letters, she does an amazing audition and is admitted; however, now she must overcome how to pay for her tuition every month and not let her foster family know what she has done.
Readers of Iz the Apocalypse will be immediately drawn into Iz’s struggles to overcome all odds to be able to stay at Métier. They will want to know how Iz is doing and whether she will be able to figure out a way to pay to stay in the school she loves so much. When Iz runs into troubles, readers will want to know if everything will work out for Iz and whether she will finally get her happy life that she so rightly deserves. Readers will be drawn into the story to understand why Iz thinks she is an apocalypse.
Iz the Apocalypse will appeal to fans of realistic fiction as well as readers who are budding musicians. Young musicians may identify with Iz and wish that they got to go to such a great music school as Métier. The character of Iz is very well-developed and accurately reflects the life of a child in care. The romantic subplot between Iz and Teo, a Métier student, is very sweet and gradually emerges, to the surprise of Iz who has never really had anyone she could count on.
Highly Recommended
Forward Reviews:
In the emotive novel Iz the Apocalypse, a musical girl works through her trauma in search of a sense of belonging.
In the emotional whirlwind of Susan Currie’s novel Iz the Apocalypse, a girl in foster care with a passion for music discovers her own voice and works to take control of her own life, finding a support system along the way.
Iz has spent her entire childhood being shuffled around different foster homes, moving from school to school with no sense of community or autonomy. Her current foster mother, Pat, barely pays attention to Iz, as she’s too wrapped up in planning her daughter Britnee’s wedding. When Iz hears Manifesto, a performance group from the Métier School of Music, play together for the first time, she does everything in her power to get herself into that school. Iz is admitted but goes to complicated lengths to keep it a secret from her foster family.
In its first half, during moments of emotional turmoil for Iz, her traumatic past is hinted at, emphasizing that she is not in a place to face her memories yet. Her trauma is a constant presence in the story, exemplifying how painful experiences stay with a person always. Much of the story is told via conversations that keep the tension high; Iz is constantly on edge, scared of being caught in the multiple lies she’s woven in order to audition for and attend Métier.
Iz faces several challenges throughout the book, and these challenges compound as she is made more aware of the world around her. In the first half of the book, she is so focused on the tangible, material things she needs to get into Métier, such as money and transcripts, that the people standing directly in her way seem to be Pat and Britnee. But during a midway peak, the perspective on Iz’s struggles zooms out, revealing the bigger picture—including the systemic issues within the foster care system that prevented Iz’s potential from being recognized earlier. This shift turns those who seemed like direct antagonists into mere representatives of a larger issue, humanizing them and allowing for reconciliation. Iz goes from being fiercely independent out of necessity to learning how to accept support from those around her—who do care for her.
The book’s characterizations are somewhat undermined by people’s introductions coming via long lists of descriptors. Further, the prose is muddied by frequent and disconnected metaphors. Its descriptions of music, however, are beautiful, feeding into sentences that flow like music themselves, with visceral and embodied images. Music—as an art, a study, and a form of expression—is treated with profound care.
In the emotive novel Iz the Apocalypse, a musical girl works through her trauma in search of a sense of belonging.
Publishers Weekly — Booklife
Iz Beaufort, a musically inclined 14-year-old girl who has lived in 26 foster care homes and attended 14 schools, is accustomed to a life of transience and detachment from the people around her. Slumbering away from her passion, an unexpected encounter with Manifesto, a musical group composed of students around her age from the esteemed Métier School, strikes a chord with her growing indifference toward life. "You say my road’s not there at all / Although it seems to me that it is all I see," the budding songstress writes. Iz's awakening propels her to pursue her passion against all odds, even if it means she has to commit illicit activities.
Currie (The Mask That Sang) offers an endearing musical story beautifully spun out in words. Iz's story epitomizes what it takes to pursue the heart's deepest aspirations as she again seizes the cathartic power of music as a means to express herself—despite being an amateur amid a knowledgeable set of soon-to-be friends. As she perseveres in that, she also strives to make sense of the lingering presence of “That Place,” her term for the trauma she has yet to heal from. Music also becomes the means through which Iz gradually forms connections. Through these compelling, convincingly drawn relationships, Currie deftly underscores the ripple effects of small gestures of kindness.
The plot's somewhat familiar, at times even predictable, but Currie still surprises throughout with striking insights, evocative phrasing, and some heartbreaking twists. Written with a moving, eloquent restraint, Iz the Apocalypse is a testament to the undeniable link between art and therapy, and its strength lies in coming to terms with one's individuality—just like Iz's unique guitar tuning—and challenging societal norms. "Well, this prisoner shall be unbound / So I tear the mantle of heaven down." Ize's message is resonant: Know your rights, follow your heart, and thrive.
Takeaway: Deeply moving story of a teen girl’s melodic journey to discovering herself.
Comparable Titles: Ashley Woodfolk's The Beauty That Remains, Gayle Forman's If I Stay.
Production grades Cover: A Design and typography: A- Illustrations: N/A Editing: A Marketing copy: A
Stephanie Lamb, Storytime with Stephanie:
From start to finish Iz the Apocalypse by Susan Currie was inspiring, heartbreaking, hopeful and extremely hard to put down.
Iz is a fourteen year old girl in foster care who as a reputation for being explosive. When she hears a performance by a school of music group called Manifesto, something is unlocked within the core of her being. This sets in motion a fierce desire to do whatever it takes to become a part of the music and join Manifesto, even if it means taking the biggest risk of her life.
I love to read at night, before bed, snuggled under the covers. Its a wonderful way to wind down the day but reading Iz the Apocalypse before bed was a recipe for late nights and exhaustion. This story is so compelling it is impossible to put down. A just-one-more-chapter story that all of a sudden becomes midnight on a school night and impossible to fall asleep without knowing what’s going to happen with Iz. Susan Currie’s aptitude for weaving a story that is engaging and heartfelt is brilliant. Her storytelling was thoughtful and authentic. It was absolutely impossible not to connect with Iz. Even though our circumstances and teenage years were completely different, I was totally drawn to her as a character.
Susan Currie includes very real depictions of life in foster care for young people. Foster care can leave invisible scars. Many children do not know their rights as wards of the foster system. There is a whole discussion about children with exceptionalities and not being granted access to what they need, when they need it to be successful not just in school but as they grow to be adults and age out of the system. This book shines a brilliant spotlight on these children and will hopefully guide readers to empathy and understanding.
The supporting cast was equally as compelling as Iz, especially those at Métier School. The kindness and compassion demonstrated is aspirational. If only all schools could teach and students could learn according to their own needs and not the prescriptions of governing bodies. I especially loved that the school was portrayed as a collaborative space and a space of support. There were no egos and no bullying among the students at Métier.
Iz the Apocalypse is a must read in my opinion and a book that will continue to live with readers long after the author’s acknowledgements.
Must read, Foster care, music, exceptionalities, coming of age, family, Mental health, common deer press
Here’s a guest blog post I wrote about the process of writing Iz the Apocalypse:
https://www.lecarmichael.ca/2023/11/susan-currie-perseverance-and-iz-the-apocalypse/
Here are some reviews for The Mask That Sang:
"The Mask That Sang," Quill and Quire
by Susan Currie
A wooden Iroquois healing mask, bearing brilliant eyes and a mass of black hair, sits abandoned in the home 12-year-old Cass Foster and her mother inherit unexpectedly. With its eerie sense of familiarity and a triumphant swell of mischievous voices, the object beckons to Cass. When her mother sells the mask to pay for a much-needed computer, Cass becomes determined to retrieve it. She enlists the help of her new friend, Degan, and the pair embarks on an extraordinary journey that leads Cass to discover her previously unknown Cayuga heritage.
The Mask That Sang is the second book by Susan Currie, and one of two titles to win Second Story Press’s inaugural Aboriginal Writing Contest. The author draws on her own adoption and Cayuga ancestry to tell a story centring on contemporary urban aboriginal experiences, highlighting complex topics such as bullying, poverty, and racism. Her use of plain and engaging language while depicting the intricate intergenerational legacies left behind by colonialism and residential schools renders these topics accessible and relatable.
Beyond its educational value, the book is also a fast-paced adventure story. Cass and Degan find themselves overcoming numerous obstacles, most notably Ellis McCallister, a clever and ruthless bully. At times, the book’s dialogue is stilted, making Cass and Degan seem older than their years, but Currie’s expert prose reveals that both have been weighed down by adult problems from an early age.
The Mask That Sang forces readers to confront the ongoing impact of the mistreatment of Canada’s aboriginal peoples, yet at the same time it offers a hopeful and positive perspective, focused on healing and the importance of embracing one’s community and culture.
"Powerful Lessons from Mysterious Iroquois Mask," Winnipeg Free Press
Susan Currie’s The Mask that Sang (Second Story Press, 112 pages, $10, paperback) is a story about friendship, family love and confronting bullying. It is also, however, about the effects of residential schools on their survivors, and about the importance of traditional myths and spirituality in indigenous culture. Written for ages 9-12, this is a second book by this Brampton, Ont. author. Currie was a winner in Second Story’s aboriginal writing contest, and while some of the details of the residential Written for ages 9-12, this is a second book by this Brampton, Ont. author. Currie was a winner in Second Story’s aboriginal writing contest, and while some of the details of the residential school experience which are unloaded in the last chapters of the book seem as if they were simply added to comply with the contest, the story succeeds because of the strength of its characters, especially Cass, the young girl, and her indigenous friend Degan. When Cass discovers an old Iroquois wooden mask in the drawer of her new home, she is at first shocked but then fascinated, especially after she hears music that seems to emanate from the mask. When the mask disappears, it takes the Degan’s tribal understanding to lead her to its recovery — and to knowledge that changes her feelings about herself and her future.
Excerpt from "Five Great Brampton Authors You Should Be Reading," The Bramptonist
"....Susan Currie is a Brampton primary school teacher of Cayuga descent who tackles the issues of racism and bullying. She writes about Aboriginal-themed topics and plot lines, bringing light to the ideas of lost heritage and embracing one’s heritage, and delving into the rich mosaic of First Nations culture.
"She won the Second Story Press Aboriginal Writing Contest in 2015. This allowed for the publishing of her manuscript for The Mask That Sang.
"Currie manages to bring together an enlightening and interesting read, while also refraining from sanitizing the heart of the issues she addresses. Her works are blunt, honest, and refreshingly warm, and are an important addition to the growing number of literary works by authors of First Nations descent.
"Basket of Beethoven, a novel Currie wrote in 2001, was nominated for several awards, including the CLA Book of the Year for Children Award."
Kirkus Reviews:
"Fifth-grader Cass Foster’s life is altered after her single mother receives an unexpected inheritance that includes a house in a better neighborhood and the relief of a new school where Cass can escape the bullies that have made her life miserable.
"It is move-in day when the 12-year-old discovers a mysterious carved mask hidden in a drawer in her new bedroom. The mask has a hypnotizing effect on Cass, singing to her by day and making its way into her dreams at night. On her first day at her new school, Cass befriends classmate Degan Hill, a First Nations boy who also knows what it’s like to be bullied. She invites him over to show him the mask only to discover that her mother has pawned it. Devastated, Cass and Degan decide to retrieve the mask, which still speaks to Cass, who identifies as “nothing.” The two friends learn from Degan’s aunt, a Cayuga healer, that the mask is an Iroquois false face, a sacred object that’s found its way into Cass’ life for a reason. Currie offers a light, bittersweet story, filtered through the innocence of children, that comes full circle. She does this with an ease that is endearing and educational as she weaves in the traumatic story of the impact that the foster-care system has had and continues to have on Native families.
"Drawing on her own experience discovering her Cayuga identity, Currie offers a tender, resonant tale." (Fiction. 9-13)
From Muskrat Magazine:
"The Mask Who Sang tells the story of twelve-year-old Cass, who lives with her single mother. When Cass finds an Iroquois mask hidden in the bedroom of her estranged grandmother’s house, she is inexplicably drawn to it. The mask seems to sing to Cass, showing her dreams of past traumas but also encouraging her to be brave when facing bullies. With the help of her friend Degan, the mask will lead Cass to uncover her and her mother’s lost Cayuga heritage. The story also draws from Currie’s own experiences, as she was adopted and discovered her Cayuga heritage later in life. “It is rare to find a manuscript that manages to entertain and charm while addressing such issues as racism and bullying in a positive and revealing way,” said [Cherie] Dimaline. “I was pulled into the story by the courage and depth of [Currie’s] characters and left both eager to effect change and enormously proud of my heritage at the end. This coming-home narrative is a unique find in literature and tremendously important to our story as Aboriginal nations.”
“We were able to sense what the characters were experiencing based on their ability to connect with modern Aboriginal life experiences and use of culturally authentic, vibrant details that were weaved throughout the storylines,” said [Dr. Jenny Kay] Dupuis. “With limited literature about urban Aboriginal experiences, it is important as an educator to support opportunities to advance the field of Aboriginal children’s literature in order to infuse cross-curricular approaches to Aboriginal issues and how they still impact us today.”
Press Release, Second Story Press:
May 19, 2015, Toronto – Two winners have been chosen for Second Story Press’s Aboriginal Writing Contest. The jury of Second Story Press publisher Margie Wolfe, Aboriginal educator and researcher Dr. Jenny Kay Dupuis, and Métis author Cherie Dimaline all agreed on two outstanding submissions: Stolen Words, a picture book manuscript by Melanie Florence, a single mom and author of Plains Cree and Scottish descent who lives in Toronto; and The Mask Who Sang, a middle-grade novel by Susan Currie, a primary school teacher and writer of Cayuga descent who lives in Brampton, ON.
Stolen Words is a powerfully affecting picture book for older readers about the intergenerational impact of residential schools. When a man’s granddaughter asks him how to say ‘grandfather’ in Cree, it unleashes a river of emotion when he admits that he doesn’t know his language anymore. Seeing her grandfather upset, she helps him to find his words again. “Melanie Florence uses slender language to deliver lush imagery in Stolen Words,” said Dimaline. “Addressing intergenerational colonization with poetic cadence and a strong storyline, Stolen Words is an honour song from our youth to the Elders.” Florence is the granddaughter of a residential school survivor and experienced first-hand the impact it had on survivors and their families.