The Jungle of Carabanana

About This Audiobook

Kate McKinnon’s *The Jungle of Carabanana* isn’t just another middle-grade adventure—it’s a full-throttle, banana-peel-slip of a story where science collides with sibling rivalry in the most absurdly delightful ways. The Porch sisters, each a distinct flavor of weird, drag listeners into a quasi-French jungle where their latest experiment (involving a suspiciously sentient plant and a missing aunt) spirals into controlled chaos. The audiobook thrives on its breakneck pacing and McKinnon’s signature wit, which leaps off the page—or rather, through your headphones—with the energy of a live sketch comedy show. The unknown narrator leans into the manic charm, delivering deadpan one-liners and over-the-top character voices with the precision of a seasoned improviser.

What sets this apart from typical kids’ fare is its refusal to dumb down the humor or the stakes. The science is just plausible enough to feel clever (think: DIY gene-splicing gone hilariously wrong), while the emotional core—the sisters’ fractious but fierce bond—keeps it from veering into pure slapstick. The production plays with sound effects sparingly but effectively, using jungle ambiance and sudden, cartoonish *boings* to underscore the madness. It’s the kind of audiobook that’ll have parents stealing the headphones, not just tolerating the car ride."

"review": "I’ll admit, I approached *The Jungle of Carabanana* with cautious optimism—celebrity-authored kids’ books can be hit-or-miss, and middle-grade audiobooks often suffer from either overacting or phoned-in narration. But this one? It’s a riot. The unknown narrator (a crime we should all protest) commits *hard* to the material, channeling McKinnon’s comedic timing with uncanny accuracy. The sisters’ voices are distinct and exaggerated in the best way: think a nasally know-it-all for the eldest, a breathy conspiracy theorist for the middle, and a deadpan genius for the youngest. The real standout, though, is Millicent Quibb, their enigmatic aunt, whose voice drips with the kind of cryptic charm that makes you lean in closer.

The story itself is a masterclass in controlled chaos. The plot—centered around a botched experiment that turns a houseplant into a sentient, possibly vengeful entity—could’ve devolved into noise, but McKinnon (and the adapter, if there is one) keeps the threads taut. The jungle setting is more than window dressing; it’s a character itself, with vines that *might* be alive and a hotel that feels like it’s judging the sisters’ life choices. My only gripe? The pacing stumbles in the second act when the science explanations drag—kids might zone out, and adults might wish for a fast-forward button. And while the sound design is mostly sharp, a few effects (like the plant’s “voice”) veer into *too* cartoonish, clashing with the otherwise dry humor. Still, it’s a small price for an audiobook that’s this much fun. If your kid likes *The Mysterious Benedict Society* but wishes it had more fart jokes (and, let’s be honest, whose kid doesn’t?), this is your next listen."

"tags": [
"mad scientist middle grade