On the Edge of the Dark Sea of Darkness, written by the hugely talented Andrew Peterson, tells the story of twelve-year-old Janner Igiby and his quest for understanding. He wants to understand who he is and where he's going. (Because Janner is who he is and because he's going where he's going, this really is an exciting tale even though I just made it sound boring.) And it's a story of love and family and friendship.

There is much to love about this book. The first thing would have to be the author's sense of humor. He's a very funny guy. His chapter titles are adorable, and even the few bits of "bodily function" humor, that boys for reasons unknown find so enchanting, are well-done. But more than being funny, Mr. Peterson comes across as fun-loving. He may have worked hard at being entertaining, coming up with hysterical footnotes as he did, but the book doesn't feel labored. As you read you get the feeling that the author simply enjoys life and the varied people God has created.

Another thing to love about the book are the characters. As the book progresses we fall in love with the characters. Janner—burdened and unhappy about the secrets the adults are keeping from him and desiring to grow up and do worthwhile things, Tink, the adventurous one, and little Leeli, the Compassionate. The bookseller, lover of truth and beauty, and widely read with a quote for every occasion; the grandfather, bold and faithful; the mother, loving and steadfast—these characters, blind spots and failings notwithstanding, are lovable. They're real and comfortable. I wanted to sit at Nia's table and share a meal with her. I wanted to hear Leeli sing and see Tink's pictures. The Sockman, the Ridgerunner, the putrid lizard men...all the characters were painted realistically and well motivated.

I also loved the language. Chapter ten opens with, "A long, warm note like the sound of a yawning mountain rose in the air and bounced off the belly of the sky." You just can't get much better than this. OK I'm not really sure what a yawning mountain is but it's still a gorgeous sentence.

There was mystery. I was captured by the questions, wanting to know, right along with Janner, what secrets the mother and grandfather were hiding.

There was danger. The Fangs of Dang were greatly, grossly disgusting and dangerous.

I loved the story so much it's hard for me to speak of what I thought was lacking. But I think I have to say that if you find yourself bored in the first hundred pages, read on. It gets oh so much better. The first few pages are witty and fun, the next ninety pages or so kind of wander around without much direction, I think. I'm not saying they were painful to read—they were cute. But cute alone cannot pull off a whole novel. I could have put the book down and forgotten it if I hadn't known that others were raving about how good it was.

I think the reason I didn't love this part of the book is that I didn't understand what was motivating the characters, so Janner felt whiney and his brother and sister didn't feel real. I didn't know what any of them wanted. Janner wanted to grow up and go to sea, I think, but it wasn't a concrete desire and it wasn't one he could do anything about. So we ended up with an unhappy boy and no goal in sight. The danger wasn't real in the early chapters, either. The kids got into and out of trouble much too easily.

So if you're like me and early on you think the book is not the best thing you've ever read, keep reading. There comes a point where the boys become proactive, as opposed to reactive, and they set out in search of answers. At that point I set off with them and there was no putting the book down.

At the end, I closed the book with a sigh, hating to leave my Igiby friends behind and wondering when the next installment would be out. A most satisfying book. I'm so glad Peterson wrote it. I feel I'm richer for having read it.

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Copyright © 2008 Sally Apokedak