Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, 36 years ago

Like others, I have followed the link to the Horn Book's history archives to check out Elinor Cameron's scorn for Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, and Dahl's rebuttal (Here). To Cameron's mind, Charlie was as horrible as television--disastrous junk food for growing young minds (she also had serious, and totally warranted, objections to the enslavement of the Oompa Loompas-- wandering off track, anyone else deeply troubled by the enslavement of the sentient engines on the Island of Sodor?). I went on to read the letters to the editor, and found one by Ursula Le Guin (here). She didn't care for the book either, certainly not enough to spend her time reading it out loud to her children, but she recognized its escapist appeal for the young. This, in turn, reminded me of an article written by Le Guin in the New Statesman last December (here), in which Le Guin writes about lifelong reading of fantasy, how many grown-ups return to books loved as a child because of "their [the books'] strict standard of emotional honesty."

36 years have gone by since Cameron attacked Charlie. Many of us who read the book in the 1970s have grown up to become life long re-readers of children's books, and many of us have become the ones who read out loud to children. I remember reading Charlie when I was 8 or so, and can vividly recall my almost horrified fascination with it (it was grotesque, overdone, with so many incredible, marvellous details...all those fantastic details). But even at the time, I didn't think it has much of the numinous in it -- that transcendent moment when a book socks you in the heart-- nor does it have much emotional honesty (which I think I'd know if I saw it, but can't quite define). I haven't re-read it in decades, and there are certainly many other books higher on the list of things to read to my boys.

The parallels between Charlie and Harry Potter are obvious, especially the "it encourage reluctant readers to read" bit. I'm not in any hurry to read Harry to my boys either. Some books, I think, are just meant to be escapist indulgences. And if their main merit is encouraging reading, let the kids read it themselves. In the same vein, I will not read Captain Underpants out loud.

However, I'd be perfectly happy to have either Charlie or Harry as audio books on long car trips of the future, when escaping takes on more importance with every mile.

Thurs. Non Fiction: Walking With Prehistoric Beasts

BBC released Walking With Dinosaurs back in 1999, using state of the art computer animation and animatronics to create the most realistic screen dinos ever. The program was deservedly popular, and copies of this video abound in local public libraries (at least, here in Rhode Island). In 2001, they followed it up with Walking With Prehistoric Beasts (the English title left out the Prehistoric), which aired on the Discovery Channel. This one isn't as common in local libraries, but it is much much cooler than the dinosaurs! Everyone and their uncle watches dinosaur programs, every kid has read dinosaur books and knows more dinosaur names than many adults (I still know more than my children. I study at night). So dinosaur sminosaur.

Enter a new cast of characters--the Hyaenodon, the Entelodont, the Megatherium, the Andrewsarchus etc. (there's a character gallery up at Discover). They are fierce, amazing, stunning, and fantastically presented (on the left is a Propalaeotherium, one of the gentle herbivore types). This is the sort of video that the parent has to watch at least once, so as to have at least an idea of what the children are talking about.

There are 6 discrete episodes, each a bit less than an hour. The narrative follows your basic nature documentary, but the producers tried to have a story line tying each episode together. Episode 3, for instance, follows first year and a bit of an Indocathere calf. Will it survive the drought? the rainy season? its rejection by its mother after she finds a new mate? (warning: adult themes, although tastefully presented). If anyone wants to know the details of all the episodes, look here.

Of all the many non-fiction videos my children have watched, Walking with Prehistoric Beasts has sparked their imaginations the most. Imaginative play, so we are told, is a good thing. No longer does my three-year old want to eat his ice cream at the table, with a spoon. Instead, the bowl goes on the floor, his face goes on the ice cream. "I'm an Andrewsarchus eating a turtle out of its shell!" He snarls around the house, pretending to be a savage Hyaenodon (shown at right), casting his unfortunate big brother in the role of Prey. "Darling, can't you be a gentle herbivore?" I suggest. "ROAR!" he says.

The only episode I did not embrace wholeheartedly was episode 4, which focused on a group of Australophithecus Afaransis (Lucy's species). I appreciate how difficult it is to make a movie when you aren't sure if your characters are "human" or not. I appreciate the fact that they lived in Africa and probably had darker skin than I do. It wasn't bad anthropology. But it made me uncomfortable.

Finally, here's a link to the BBC page, where you can find more information and good games!

The Little White Horse, soon to be The Moon Princess

I just heard, through Fuse #8, that one of my all time favorite children's books, The Little White Horse, by Elizabeth Goudge, is going to be made into a children's movie by the director of Bridge to Terebithia (here's the movie's site). I am bravely telling myself this is not a bad thing. More people will now read this beautiful book. But please, to all those who haven't read it, read it before you see the movie. Read an edition with Walter Hodge's illustrations. Let Goudge's words make pictures in your minds. Let her story reach you first (a story that does not have the Fantasy elements the movie sounds like it will have).

The Little White Horse tells of Maria Merryweather, sent to live with her cousin, the lord of Moonacre Manor. The welcome is warm, the house is lovely (Maria's tower room is my favorite fictional bedroom of all time! But the valley of Moonacre is troubled by an ancient feud between the rapscallion poachers known as the Black Men and Maria's family. It's up to Maria to use her powers of deduction and her forthrightness to set the old wrong to rights.

Lots and lots of beautiful description, a fantastical setting where the magical overlaps with the mundane, and warm and glowing characters who come to wonderful life make this one of my favorite books of all time. Based on the illustrations, and the descriptions of clothes and such, it's my impression that this is set in the 19th century--it's certainly a long ago story, which adds to its charm.

It is, I would say, definitely a Girl book. This is mainly because Goudge lavishes so much detail on female clothing (almost no boy appeal, unless you are a boy like the poignant child in Rumer Godden's The Greengage Summer). She also lavishes lots of detail on anything that has color, and anything that is beautiful--seagulls flying inland in the morning, pink geraniums, primroses wet with dew. With a book that is this visual, it seems to me redundant to recreate it in a visual medium.

And then, when you have read The Little White Horse, and want more Goudge, read Linnets and Valerians.

See if you can guess which of these covers is the most recent:


Hint: it has those strange, strange eyes. And why does that poor child have no mouth? (at least, that's what it looked like to me, although after studying it I guess that's a bit of mouth showing over the horse's back). Just for the record, the copy I had was the paperback at the top right.

The Little Broomstick, by Mary Stewart

My library hasn't yet set up a "while you're waiting for Harry" display, but doubtless it will have one at some point. A book that I am going to slip in, if it somehow gets overlooked, is The Little Broomstick by Mary Stewart (publishd in 1971), and yes, this is the same Mary Stewart whose romance/adventure novels my mother read and passed on to me, who also wrote the very fine Merlin series that begins with The Crystal Cave). Probably The Little Broomstick will be overlooked; I bought it with Friends of the Library money, and I don't think either of our children's librarians have read it. I'm not sure any patrons have read it either.

This is wrong. When I was 7/8, and read this for the first time, I was stunned--it just knocked the young socks off me. I'm not sure how a grown-up reading it for the first time would feel, but I fell in love (as did several Amazon reviewers, apparently).

Here's the plot: Mary is sent to her Great Aunt's house deep in the English countryside; there are no children her own age, and the only two creatures at all friendly are the gardener and a black cat, Tib. Mary finds a little broomstick, Tib leads her to the rare Fly-by-night flower, and next thing you know, Mary finds herself flying through the sky... and the broomstick lands in the stableyard of a school for witches.

Although Mary is welcomed to the school as a prospective pupil (she did, after all, arrive by broom), it is not a friendly place. Horrible magical experiements are being performed on animals, including Tib's brother Gib. Gib's own owner, a boy named Peter, is deperatly searching for him, and the two children, and Tib, end up rescuing the animals from their cages, and escpaing the evil witches and warlocks in an utterly brilliant chase sequence that is one of my favorite bits of fantasy ever.

This plot outline is just a sketch. Anyone familiar with Mary Stewart (and this is also true of her grown-up romance books, which I have read and re-read myself) knows what a good describer she is. The pictures this book makes in the reader's mind will stay there. It helps that the book is illustrated by Shirley Hughes, who also is a lovely describer (although I always have to go back and look at pictures after I finish, because of reading so fast).

The Little Broomstick, first published in 1972, was re-released in paperback in 1989, and even though it seems to be out of print again, it looks like it's readily available.

Penelope Farmer -- new book on line

If anyone out there is looking for a most excellent time slip story, read Charlotte Sometimes, by Penelope Farmer, if you haven't already.

SPOILERS! Charlotte wakes up her first morning at boarding school to find that she has slipped back forty years in time, and has taken the place of another girl named Claire. At first, Charlotte and Clare swap places for a day at a time, communicating via a hidden diary (their tribulations are well described--Clare, for instance, is a much better piano player, so poor Charlotte has to spend hours practicing furiously). But then Charlotte finds herself trapped in the past...I have a special fondness for this book, as Clare's little sister, who becomes like a sister to Charlotte as well, is named Emily, just like my little sister.

But the point of this post is that I just discovered that Penelope Farmer has a blog, and on that blog she has a link to a book she has written online! How much work will I get done today????

Earth Day a day late --One Small Square:Backyard + Orange Trail Bingo

Happy belated Earth Day. I would have posted yesterday, but our home computer is a mac., and will not let me post, or edit, or anything useful (is there anyone out there who uses a mac and blogspot together in harmony?).


In honor of Earth Day, I wanted to mention my favorite get outside and appreciate/learn about the earth book--One Small Square: Backyard. It's been around for a while (1993), but it deserves to be a part of every young naturalist's library. What I like about it is that it combines facts with activities (and lovely illustrations). We tend to be somewhat cerebral in our approach to activity books (why why why do I have to read aloud books like Let's Make Space Aliens etc.), so a book like Backyard is a good choice for us. But we did take it out into our own backyard last summer, and a good time was had by all.

Also Earth dayish, and inspired by the posts over at The Miss Rumphius Effect on educational things to do with children outside, I wanted to share my one really original idea (to date, and as far as I know) for a great thing to do while on a nature walk -- Trail Bingo. We live near an Audubon sanctuary, and walk the Orange Trail often in all seasons. So one day we brought with us notebooks and colored pencils, and searched for landmarks/plant and animal species/rock formations/tree formations that we could put into an Orange Trail bingo game. We filled our notebooks with sketches of what we saw --- gap in the wall, twin tree trunk, triangle stone in the path, princess pine, etc etc. Because we had a purpose, we looked at what was around us harder than we ever had before, and because we were drawing what we saw, we looked at things longer. We had fun creating the game cards too--it was good art practice to simplify our images so that they were more or less the same on all the cards on which they appeared.

We never actually played Orange Trail Bingo, but that wasn't really the point. It was enough that we had made our own connections to the trail, and could great our landmarks like friends.

Two concrete poetry books

Sometimes it is much easier to be on the listening end than the reading end (especially if you can't read much yet). The dear boys (6 and 3) listened with rapt attention to the two books of poetry I read them last night, oohing and awing and laughing and pointing out details. My eyes got crosseder and crosseder as I tried to translate the shape-making words into coherency. The two books were



Sidman, Joyce. Meow Ruff: A Story in Concrete Poetry. Illustrated by Michelle Berg. Houghton Mifflin, 2006





and


J. Patrick Lewis Doodle Dandies: Poems That Take Shape.Illustrated by Lisa Desimini. Simon & Schuster 1998









Both books are concrete poetry--words were used to make the shapes of the things being written about -- in Meow Ruff, for instance, clouds are white puffy word clumps (changing to gray), in Doodle Dandies, a lady walking her dachshund is holding a dachshund shaped word cluster on a leash. The kids eat this up, but it sure is hard on the reader, especially when the words are really close together...Meow Ruff especially took great concentration, so this is a bad bad book for the dim lighting and tired eyes of bedtime unless you have it memorized.

Of the two, I much preferred Meow Ruff, which tells the story of a kitten and dog who meet outside one day. They are enemies at first, but become friends when rain forces them to share the shelter of a picnic table. I like books with a coherent narrative and character development, which this book delivers as much as a picture book in snippets of unrhyming, descriptive verse can. The pictures are charming too. The words were fun to speak out loud -- the paved road, for instance, is "tramped on not lawn much trod bubble gum crack-filled Anthill hard flat welcome mat brick thick oil slick blown sand not land" (total aside--my older boy picked up at school that Queen song that goes "We will we will rock you... " and has been singing it incessantly which effected my reading of this. Sigh). In short, there were many engaging details in both picture and text, and the boys wanted to hear it over again immediately.

They didn't. We turned next to Doodle Dandies. This one was a tad disappointing. The only theme of the verses was that they made shapes (but not all of them were really good independent shapes--sometimes the words were stuck on top of existing pictures). It was somewhat disjointing to bounce from tigers and butterflies to baseballs and synchronized swimmers (although so few children's poems feature synchronized swimmers that perhaps some extra points are warranted). The good poem pictures were diverting (I liked the giraffe with legs made of "s t i l t s", but several left me cold. The illustrations are somewhat scattered as well, with realistic pictures of the natural world next to cartoonish images.

Not a patch on Douglas Florian, I say.

For more Joyce Sidman books of poetry, check out this post at Blue Rose Girls from last November with part 2 here. This was my first book of hers, the only one our library has, but this will change; even after going graphic book shop the Friends have some money left. (The booksales are worth it, I mutter to myself).

Non-fiction dvd of the week: Mystery of the Megaflood

On Thursdays, I present a non-fiction video that my children have enjoyed. Today's is Mystery of the Megaflood, a NOVA program first broadcast in 2005, now available on DVD.

Summary: A vanished glacial lake, huge ice dams breaking up (think Ice Age II, only better), a tortured landscape, and the brave and clever geologists (both male and female, although predominately male) who figure out the clues and solve the Mystery of the Megaflood! This is almost a prefect non-fiction video. There is a lot of dramatic action, but it's geological and doesn't involve people getting hurt. The mystery that the geologists are trying to solve gives a plot-like structure to it, which helps hold the viewer's interest. The images are stupendous:

It's hard to put a bottom line on the age of viewers who would like this; for what it's worth, my six year old loves it. I think it should appeal to any kid who likes rocks!

Note on Gender Issues: I liked it because it showed a brave female geologist rappelling down a cliff. I fret a bit about the predominance of men in non-fiction videos, especially in their role of narrators (leading to the impression that men = the ones who have knowledge, which is not what I want my boys to believe). It is very rare to find a really good sciency video narrated by a woman. The DK folks found a female narrator for their videos about mythological creatures, for instance, but all the science ones are male. So if anyone knows any hard core science videos with female narrators, let me know!

If you'd like to learn more about the geological details, here's the link to PBS.

Reading historical fiction

Last weekend Lecticans posed on her blog the following question--"What is the recipe for good historical fiction?" When I was young, before I discovered fantasy and science fiction, I would have said it was my favorite genre. I adored the books of Rosemary Sutcliffe (still do). Now as an adult I find myself avoiding the books with the little covered wagons on them, because I find them generally boring and annoying, although I still re-read my old favorites.

I think that excellent historical fiction and excellent fantasy share the same key trait--the ability to convey the differences of the time and place and culture (and rules of nature) without stressing over it and making it obvious to the reader. In much the same way that characterization is better when conveyed through the characters' words and actions rather than the narrators', details about what life was life back then should not be set apart as teaching moments within the narrative. I think that when this is done well (as Sutcliffe does it), the reader stops remembering that the book is "historical" and can simply enjoy it for the plot and the characters, and only later realize how much has been learned. Of course, for this to work, the writer also has to make sure that the "history" is accurate, or else the bubble bursts (most of what I know about . For me this also applies to characterization--I liked Catherine, Called Birdy, by Karen Cushman, just fine, but Catherine didn't seem like a product of her time. Ditto the characters in Michelle Magorian's Not a Swan. Another potential problem in historical fiction is writers wanting to write about a historical event, and then creating characters to take part in it. I suspect all the dear america etc etc genre of doing this, and so have avoided them like the plague. I like to think that in the books I love, the author wanted to tell the characters' story, rather than the story of the event.

Besides Sutcliffe, here is a few of my all time favorite historical fiction:
Johnny Tremain by Esther Forbes. How I learned about rev. war Boston
Katherine by Anya Seton. The eponymous Katherine was the mistress of John of Gaunt.
In Spite of all Terror by Hester Burton. The evacuation of London in WW II, Dunkirk.
A Door in the Wall by Marguerite de Angeli (a much loved childhood favorite)

Graphic novel advice please!

My librarian just asked me to buy some graphic novels for our collection, because we have only one or two (the first two Babymouse books). She gave me a list that someone had given her, but neither of us has ever read any of them, I feel a bit at a loss. I'd appreciate any recommendations that anyone can give me for books from J to YA that will just fly off the shelves! Thanks.

Poetry Friday: Bugle Song

Here's a poem that I think would make a great picture book (although the words are so visually evocative that maybe it doesn't need images). It is the Bugle Song, from Alfred Tennyson's The Princess (1847).


The splendour falls on castle walls
And snowy summits old in story:
The long light shakes across the lakes
And the wild cataract leaps in glory.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,
And thinner, clearer, farther going!
O sweet and far from cliff and scar
The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!
Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:
Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.

O love, they die in yon rich sky,
They faint on hill or field or river:
Our echoes roll from soul to soul,
And grow forever and forever.
Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,
And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.


Tennyson was apparently a descendant of Edward I (according to Wikipedia), whose castles I posted about yesterday, which ties it all together nicely.

The Poetry Friday roundup today is at A Chair, A Fireplace, and a Tea Cozy.

2 non-fiction videos about castles and siege warfare

Last Thursday I decided to review non-fiction videos every week, talking about videos that appealed to my kids and deserve a wider audience. Today's offerings are two videos about castles and siege warfare -- Castle, one of a series based on David Macauley's books, and Medieval Siege, an episode of the Secrets of Lost Empires series produced by NOVA.

I hesitate a smidge to recommend the video Castle, because it is based on Macauley's book of that name, and books are generally to be preferred. However, I find Macauley's books are hard to read out loud, even to interested 4-5 year olds, whereas the videos, which mix live action and animation, are easy for kids that age to watch. They are also very, very good--instructional without being pedantic, engaging without being giddily enthusiastic.

The castle in question was built in Wales in the 13th century by the invading English. Macauley takes the viewer on a tour through real castles, demonstating his impressive understanding of how things were built and his ability to translate this knowledge into terms the rest of us can grasp. The live action shots are interspersed with animated vignettes of the lives and doings of fictional people living in such a castle, bringing, as it were, the ruins to life.

Bringing medieval siege warfare to life is what Medieval Siege is all about--specifically, how do you build a trebuchet (the biggest baddest catapult of all), when you have no plans, no surviving examples, and only a few historical references? How exactly does it work? The Secrets of Lost Empire series takes a problem like this, and puts live experts (and live workers) to work on it. Different experts have different theories, and everyone involved learns by doing--there's a lot of open disagreement shown. The physical labor involved is tremendous--the idea is that everything will be done by hand, with authentic tools. I think this is great stuff for kids to watch, in as much as it teaches that learning involves a lot more than being told things. Medieval Siege is a favorite in our house, because there is a lot of catapult action (it is pretty cool to watch walls getting smashed with giant boulders). I think it is the best one of this series to start with--they run for around 60 minutes and some of them are a bit too slow for kids.

NOVA has lots more information on trebuchets at their website, including a trebuchet game.

Problems with this video:
1. At the end of the video, viewers are sent to the NOVA website for information on how to build their own trebuchet. My boy really really thought he was going to get to build a full size siege engine in our back yard ("Can we build my trebuchet now?" he asked incessantly). However, he and his father did build a model that gave him some pleasure.

2. My boy wanted to dress as a trebuchet for Halloween. He decided his baby brother could be the boulder.

Grandfather's Dance

It was egg hunt day at the library last Saturday, and I hoped to take advantage of the large number of children coming in. So I hauled all the children's books left over from the book sale downstairs, and set up shop. Business was, sadly, slow, so I had time to read a new book-- Grandfather's Dance, the fourth in the series by Patricia MacLachlan that began with Sarah, Plain and Tall. I was very happy to revisit the Witting family again, and to see that all was going well; after the hard times they went through out there on their prairie farm, it is nice to see that a. none of the children have died b. they are prosperous enough to afford a new car without fretting about it.

This book describes a happy time--Anna, the oldest daughter, is getting married; the aunts come from faraway Maine, and little Jack, the youngest of the family, is cute as a button in his love for his grandpa, who is now fully a part of the family after a long period of alienation. But then it gets sad, and I sat next to my boxes of books with tears running down my cheeks, which would have put off my customers had they not been outside egg hunting.

I didn't read any of MacLachlan's books until I was a grown-up--as a child, I had no interest reading about someone described as plain and tall, and nobody urged it on me. I'm not sure what I would have made of this series. As a child, I revelled in the detail of Laura Ingalls Wilder, and I think I would have found these books too short and sparse. As an adult, I admire MacLachlan's clean prose, and think these books are beautiful, but I still wish they were longer--this one only lasted me half an hour.

Demon Christmas Mug--the things I do for the library

We had a very nice Easter. It would have been better, however, if a Christmas mug hadn't started playing "Jingle Bells" whenever someone walked into the kitchen. Apart from blatant seasonal inappropriateness, holiday mugs aren't good at making music, and this one is no exception. As one boy said, "We can't live like this."

The mug is one of several bought for next December's library fundraiser, tossed neatly with other mugs and ornaments etc etc in a new home 7 feet up on the topmost shelf of the new kitchen cupboard. I fetched the ladder, and asked my children to jump up and down so that I could hear the mug singing. Sadly, the weight of the ladder is enough (even without me on it) to stabilize the cupboard--the mug did not sing and I could not find it. So for now we are simply leaving the ladder there, perhaps until next Christmas.

An Island Grows, by Lola M. Schafer

An Island Grows by Lola M. Schafer, illustrated by Cathie Flestead (Greenwillow Books 2006)

I picked this up last week in the library's new book section--it seemed to fall nicely into the non-fiction that will appeal to both boys (6 and 3) category, and I liked the cover. It was a good choice.

"Deep, deep beneath the sea" the earth splits apart, and an island begins . The journey from a crack in the ocean floor to a tropical paradise is pleasantly told in rhyming couplets and simple but very satisfying pictures. The text was easy enough for 6 yr old to read, although sometimes rhyme was given more weight than simplicity-"Rocks appear, black and sheer." But heck, sheer is a fine word. My 3 yr old was very taken with the underwater buildup of magma. We all liked the dense page of factual information at the end; I, for instance, was able to share with my co-workers today the fun fact that the earth's plates move at the rate our fingernails grow, which is a lot faster than I would have thought.

The book gets a tad strange when people come into the picture--it appears to be an island of racial utopia, with people of all skin tones living and working side by side. This is lovely, and it looked unremarkable to the children (and of course in an ideal world this scenario should look "normal"). However, one of my main professional interests is the history and archaeology of European colonization, and I was a more than a bit jarred by the happiness of the island's integration into the capitalist world system, and I had to bite back a diatribe. But that aside, it was a very pleasant and instructive read-out-loud experience, and I'll be happy to read it to them again.

P.S. (added 4/15/07) My 3 year old has asked for this book at bedtime every night since we got it out of the library, and I have not particularly minded, which shows how appealing it is!

ee cummings for Poetry Friday

Yesterday I posted a brief review of the video Sea Nasties. After a half hour or so of Leslie Nielsen's dark humor, the video ends on a completely different note, with Nielsen speaking, very movingly, this ee cummings poem:

maggie and milly and molly and may
went down to the beach (to play one day)

and maggie discovered a shell that sang
so sweetly she couldn't remember her troubles,

and milly befriended a stranded star
whose rays five languid fingers were;

and molly was chased by a horrible thing
which raced sideways while blowing bubbles:

and may came home with a smooth round stone
as small as a world and as large as alone.

For whatever we lose(like a you or a me)
it’s always ourselves we find in the sea

Apart from my anxiety about poor molly, I think this is a lovely poem.

I had another Cummings quote in my head --"an instrument to measure Spring with," and looking for that on line I found this genuine article:

A 1613 pocket sundial from the Harvard Collection of Scientific Instruments, featured in the Harvard Magazine March April 2002 issue as part of an enthralling collection of Spring Miscellanies.

The Poetry Friday round-up is at Big A little a today.

Non-Fiction Videos we like: Sea Nasties

In our house, many non-fiction videos are watched (perhaps because the guilt is less extreme when the children are being "educated" by the television). It all started back when 6yrold was a 3 yr old, and I got him an animally National Geographic to watch. From then on there was no looking back. He explored the non-fiction video holdings of our library, developing some odd favorites--"Oh Mama! Let's get out Avalanche, the White Death! And Asteroid, Deadly Impact!" he would plead in his sweet baby voice. (I did draw the line at Killer Bees: When Swarms Attack. We don't live in the shadow of snowy mountains, and asteroid devastation is not that frequent around here either, but we do have bees. I also drew the line at Quicksands: deadly life engulfing pools of horror, or something like that, just because).

So I thought that to add Structure here at my blog, each Thursday I might review one or two non-fiction videos that are perhaps off the beaten child track (the beaten track of children? the child's beaten track?). But to get things started, I picked a video aimed specifically at children--Sea Nasties, a National Geographic video narrated by Leslie Nielsen.

Do you think the seaside is a nice place to take the kids? Wrong! It is full of deadly creatures, such as box jellies, sea snakes, and lion fish, all out to get Nielsen! A friendly mermaid takes Nielsen on tour of these "sea nasties," clarifying the facts (lots of them are darn toxic) and providing a corrective to his wacky hysteria (lots of them aren't all that bad, if you just leave them alone). There is considerable great footage of the nasties, and my kids enjoy the dark humor. At the end of Nielsen's sojurn with the mermaid, he has come to accept that not all dangerous sea creatures are monsters. The video ends with a visit to Sting Ray City, where tourists swim with rays. (Although thinking about it, after what happened to the Crocodile Hunter, I wonder if this still works as a peaceful human/deadly animals happy together scenario). Added bonus: this video is a great source of future cocktail party conversation: "Did you know that the venom of a sea snake is so deadly that one drop can kill 60 elephants?" etc. etc. (or something like that. I haven't watched it enough to keep my venom doses straight). Highly recommended for kids who do not already have Ocean Anxieties!

The Doubtful Guest on Screen

I just read that a movie is being made of Edward Gorey's classic (to mind at least) story "The Doubtful Guest." This is one of E.G.'s most hauntingly lovely (?) works; at least, it was one of my favorites. It is to be a live action movie, which gives me pause...

A link worth linking on

Here's a link to a speech given by author Julius Lester a few days ago. Powerful stuff! (thanks to Tricia of The Miss Rumphius Effect for steering me to it). It's words like these that make the effort of book sales worthwhile.

The book fairy came!

Yesterday the book fairy, disguised as two guys with a pickup truck, showed up at my library and took all the books left over from the book sale! When I trudged over to the library after work for more unending book moving toil, the room was empty. I was stunned. Even the ex-library health pamphlets from the 1970s were gone (although perhaps those have become collectors' items). So now I have room to start gathering more books, for next time. Only 14000 to go before we can buy solar pannels.

More on ya books for boys

Here's a column by Colleen Mondor reviewing a handful of ya books for boys. Specifically, she was looking for books in which growing from boy to man was a central theme, and she laments the fact that such books are thin on the ground compared to the dazzling displays of similar books for girls.

Now, I am not a boy, and never was, so it may be a tad pointless to say that none of these books appeal to me(with the exception of Time Bomb, by Nigel Hinton, because Danger: UXB was such a great PBS program). Why do so many books about boys have to be about team sports??? Why aren't there more books for boys along the lines of An Abundance of Katherines, featuring the eccentric intelligensia, with only a faint whiff of sport? Are there in fact any teen aged boys who like An Abundance of Katherines, or do they feel cheated?

I am very interested in what teen aged boys want to read, because I buy books for my library. A lot of them are books that the libarians ask me to buy, but I like to shop a bit on my own. It is easy to buy books I want to read myself, but I don't know what special books to get that might interest the one teenaged boy I've seen in our y.a. section. Our librarian has put a bulletin board soliciting suggestions, but none have come. I went to google, and found this article on the subject--a few years old, but interesting none the less, and I've decided that more graphic novels are the way to go.

When my boys are older, unless, god forbid, they have fallen into the pit of reluctant young male readers, I will give them Rosemary Sutcliffe to read--great historical fiction, from Bronze Age England to 18th-century Scotland, featuring a fine array of boys growing into men. There is also violence (wolves, Picts, Romans, Vikings, Saxons, etc, although not all in the same book), young men dealing with physical handicaps, and the development of emotional maturity.

Nobody does heroic, lovable,and believable historic boys growing up better than this author. I will also give them Taran Wanderer, by Lloyd Alexander, another great coming of age story that also introduces very nicely the techniques of blacksmithing, weaving, and pottery. And there is my favorite book of 2006, The King of Attolia, which is the third of a series about a teen aged boy growing up, although I am not quite sure what lessons might be drawn from it...

When our first son was born, we were still building the book cases for his room. This were mainly to give me a place to put my own children's books, many of which feature girls. I hope that reading books with a female point of view will help him grow up to be the non-gender-stereotypical male type person (it's too hard to think of my baby as a man) I want him to be. I did draw the line, however, with A Little Princess, which is still in my room. There are limits.

Books for their baskets

I was just visiting at A Wrung Sponge, who was writing about what books her boys would be getting at Easter. I give my boys books at Easter too, since neither of them likes jelly beans or chocolate and I have to give them something or else they will be warped. My 3 yr old will be getting A Seed is Sleepy (can't get much more seasonally appropriate than that); I don't know what my 6 yr old will get. There are so many good picture books about gardens and flowers out there (and more just reviewed in the NY Times ), but there's not much for 6 year olds. All I can think of is The Magic School Bus Plants Seeds, which we have already. There are, of course, various Usbourne and DK books about plants and nature, and although informative and attractive, they aren't really the kind of books you hold to your heart.

Goodness, the internet is remarkable. In the last two minutes I have found this cool botany for kids website that has links all over the place. But still no book. Perhaps poetry.

As basket fillers, they are also getting seed packets...and I will make an effort this spring and we will actually take the microscope out, and press flowers, and peer at things with magnifying glasses, and do watercolors/pen and ink drawings of flowers (with their Latin names) etc etc instead of just reading about these things.

After the book sale is over

My most recent library book sale is over, in a sense; the money has been counted (about 900) and I am very tired of books. But I still have 2000 books left over, most of which I do not want to burden the Salvation Army with. Sometimes at night I sneak off into the woods and bury old hardcovers--it is a strange little graveyard of old encyclopedias (with volumes missing) and ex- library books that maybe have some interest to someone, but the someone and the book were fated never to meet. Today they are being offered free to as many of the general public as I could reach through craig's list and freecycle...tonight I must clear them away to make room for the animal shelter committee meeting.

However. A considerable part of the money we make gets spent on books, so I have the pleasure of making a new list of books to buy, based primarily on what I'm reading about on other blogs, to run past our children's librarian. Today I added Reaching for Sun, recently reviewed by Mother Reader.

What libraries look like

Now, my library will never win any accolades for style or aesthetics. It's an old red brick school, and that's just fine.


Here is a large blobby sea creature:


Just kidding! It's actually Prague's new library.

Nonsense Snakes for Poetry Friday

I am still thinking about snakes in children's literature (see post below), and for poetry Friday I went looking for poems. I had a dim memory of Edward Lear writing "s was a silly snake" for one of his nonsense alphabets, but he doesn't seem to have done so. However, here is R for Rattlesnake:


R was a rattlesnake,
Rolled up so tight,
Those who saw him ran quickly,
For fear he should bite.
r!
Rattlesnake bite!

Here is another Edward Lear snake:


"The Scroobious Snake,who always wore a Hat on his Head, for fear he should bite anybody."

There is a lovely Edward Lear website here with a very handy index. I highly recommend his botanical nonsense.

For those who want more adult snake poems, here is a collection of snake poems with commentary...

The poetry Friday roundup is at Chicken Spaghetti this week

Mabel Esther Allan--some are worth reading!

Our library has been slowly revamping its juvenile fiction, and some books by an English author named Mabel Esther Allan have bitten the dust. We are not alone in deaccessioning her, as indicated by the high volume and low price of her books (mostly exlibrary) on line. It seems that in the 1960s and 1970s those of her books that made it into American editions were standard fare--I bet there are still many libraries out there, like mine, which are a bit behind the deaccessioning times, and still have, perhaps, The View Beyond My Father and A Lovely Tomorrow, and a variety of titles that include Danger and Mystery (words I personally find incredibly off putting in a title).

Mabel Esther Allan was an incredibly prolific writer. Some of her books (most of the danger and mystery ones, are sort of silly--Mary Stewart light). But some of her books are well worth giving library shelf too. A Strange Enchantment is a lovely book about a girl in the English Land Army during WW II--fascinating historical information, character development, and a dash of romance. A Time to Go Back is a classic time slip story about the bombing of Liverpool in WWII; it is very well known and liked over in England by fans of time travel stories (has the term "time slip" made it into American English?). She also wrote some good ballet stories--The Ballet Family and The Ballet Family Again, for instance.

Some of ME Allan's more hard to find books are being republished by Fidra Books, a small press in Scotland; they have a full bibliography up on their website (well worth exploring in detail).

So if your library still has some Mabel Esther Allan's, do try them, before they are gone, especially A Strange Enchantment (which, being about farming and gardening, is (almost) seasonally appropriate).

Link to Megan Whalen Turner interview

The sci fi channel has an interview with Megan Whalen Turner up here, talking about one of my most favorite books ever, The King of Attolia. It's one of the nominees for the Andre Norton YA Sci fi and fantasy award. I am still not entirely sure why I love this book so much, but it was one of only a few books I read as an adult that I started re-reading within a week, and a few weeks after for a total of 3 times in one month. Which, when you realize what a hard time I have finding time to do my other reading (there are still bills I haven't opened that came a few weeks ago), is remarkable.

Also nominated is Life as We Knew It, which truly has a brilliantly believable catastrophe. But I still think the author should have moved to Maine for a winter in an unheated house before writing it, so as to make the survival aspects of it all more realistic.

Two YA books about WW I: boy book vs. girl book

I recently finished reading The Foreshadowing, by Marcus Sedgewick, a ya novel about World War I. Alexandra sees when people will die. After foretelling the death of her oldest brother, Alexandra becomes desperate to forestall the death she sees happening to her other brother. With minimal training as a nurse in the hospital where her father is a doctor, she heads off to France to find and save him.

This book was recently described in the Guardian as a book "that could help boys read" -- these books, apparently, should be "action packed" and "attention grabbing," which The Foreshadowing certainly is. I enjoyed it, although I might not have checked it out of the library if I had known it was a boy's book. I was tricked by the female-ness of the narrator into thinking I was getting a girl's book. So much for superficial snap judgements, because I quickly came to the conclusion that The Foreshadowing was indeed more a "boy" book.

[nb: although the Guardian started the "boy book" labeling, I am now going to become equally culpable. My definitions of girl's book vs boy's book are my own idiosyncratic ones, and I feel guilty about using these categories, believing strongly that gender stereotypes are bad bad bad. So I am using the terms with tongue firmly in cheek, as a conceptual device to talk about the books I like (girl) vs books I don't so much (boy). And in the process I continue to worry about my own boys, and whether they will be permitted/inclined to enjoy many of my favorite books that aren't boy books. My six year old is ashamed that he likes Angelina Ballerina. I hope to heck he didn't pick up on that bit of gender stereotyping from me. But of course even when you say, "It's just fine for boys to like ballet," the act of saying it makes it clear that it's not the normative viewpoint].

But anyway. What The Foreshadowing doesn't have, that a good girl's book should have, is introspective inaction. Alexandra is certainly thinking a lot, but the Cassandra theme of her narrative is so great that she doesn't have space to be anything else. The other thing a good girl's book has are powerful relationships. Alexandra is pretty much alone throughout the book, and the author's tight focus on her mental distress keep her isolated. Her reactions to non-dying people (such as the wounded soldiers all around her) are not particularly deep and thoughtful. And a girl's book would have put in more romantic frisson between Alexandra and a man she meets in France, who also can see when people are marked for death.


A girl's book about wounded WW I veterans that I love to pieces is After the Dancing Days, by Margaret Rostkowski (first published 1986, still available in paperback, but with a much more "modern" cover than this old one). This book is also narrated by a teenage girl--Annie visits the veterans' hospital where her father works and makes friends with Andrew, a horribly scarred young solder. It is not actioned packed--not much happens on the outside. But inside, Annie is growing up, Andrew is healing, and Annie's family is regrouping.


After the Dancing Days is a book I re-read every other year or so, whereas, although I certainly liked it, and would recommend it to those who lean toward action, I will probably not be re-reading The Foreshadowing. (Do girls re-read more than boys, establishing close relationships with their favorite books and brooding over them? Do boys leap actively from book to book?)

And then there's my favorite WW I girl's book of all, Rilla of Ingleside, by LM Montgomery...

Library book sale-ing

The first weekend of my March library booksale has ended, and I've tidied the books away, ready to bring them out again next weekend. It was a pretty low quality booksale, but it can't be helped. Well, it could be helped by me leaving valuable books in the sale instead of taking them to book stores to trade. But at any even, I have cash in hand again to go book shopping, although I am pretty sick of books right now. Library egg hunt comes next...

My first meme

I've been tagged with my very first meme by Kelly at Big A, Little A-- I have to name five non kidlit blogs I read. This is a bit of a problem, because the only one I've ever looked at on purpose, as opposed to following random links, is Shrinking Violet Promotions, a marketing site for introverts.

I only recently discovered the kid lit blogs. I lurk at Sounis, the discussion group for Megan Whalen Turner's books, because I loved the King of Attolia so much I had to have company, and that led me to Fuse # 8, and then on and on to other blogs, until finally I wanted to join the party too. And although I still feel like a new kid at school, the older kids have been very friendly. There is much less wondering if l will have to eat lunch alone feel to the whole thing than I had thought there might be. I also happily have met an old friend from college again through my blog--she commented not knowing it was me-- which is an added bonus!

But anyway, I'm sorry I can't fulfill my meme obligation! Nor do I know enough bloggers well enough to pass it on...What happens to me now????

The reading out loud challenge

Last month, I signed up to take part in a Reading Out Loud Challenge, organized by Jennifer at her blog, Snapshot. The idea of the challenge was to set specific goals that would spur us all on. My first goal was to begin reading chapter books to my now almost four year old boy, with the specific hope of introducing him to my favorite book of Greek mythology (D'Aulaire's book of Greek Mythology--it has supurb illustrations that are based on real works of classical and rennaisance art, leading to shocks of recognigtion in college art history class). My second goal was to continue pushing my 6 year old son up the hill to independent reading while making time to read him the books he really wants to be reading--generally, non-fiction.

I like goals, because I enjoy daydreaming about meeting them. It is a very hopeful feeling, but sadly, reality happens. I might have met these goals if we had a third grownup around the house, to do the dishes and laundry, cook supper, etc. But one parent had to do those things, while the other had the two boys to read to, so the one-on-one time for reading complicated non-fiction didn't happen (except a little bit at bedtime). Instead, I fell back on non-fiction books they could both enjoy. My three year old does not want to read chapter books yet, and isn't interested in Greek mythology, and the moral of that story is that even though I was, and his brother was, he isn't and that's fine. However, we did read more wordy books than we have been (Winnie the Pooh, some of the longer Beatrix Potter's, etc.).

So the upshot of it was--I thought a lot more about reading aloud, I felt somewhat guiltier about not reading aloud more, and I think I did read more to them...and I really must find more time to "study" with my six year old, which he wants to do so badly.

Actually, the last few days what he has really wanted were craft books. So I have been reading aloud to him gems such as "Toy boats and cars you can make at home." Scintillating.

Finally, thanks Jennifer for organizing the challenge!

(This really is the best book of Greek mythology ever)

A new book by Michelle Magorian is on its way!

I just found out that Just Henry, a new book by one of my favorite authors, English writer Michelle Magorian, is going to be released in 2008! I don't really know how well known she is over here--for the most part, I bought her books while visiting family in England before they were released over here. But I imagine that Goodnight, Mr. Tom is pretty well known??? Fortunately for me, one book that I read the American edition of first was Not a Swan (English title A Little Love Song -- much ickyer).

The American edition is a most excellent book about a girl coming of age in WWII England, featuring a used book store. In this edition, three sisters must fend for themselves when their mother goes overseas to entertain the troops. In the English edition, the plot is the same, but there are only two sisters, and the book is much weaker in consequence. It's the most major change from English book to American I've ever come across.

But anyway. Here is Michelle Magorian's website.

libary book sale time

It is library book sale time at my library, and since many of the other friends of the library are a. unable to come help set up b. unable to lift heavy things by the time the sale is set up I will have picked up around 4000 books two times each (give or take). Mostly not very appealing books at that. However, the point of the book sale is to get more money to buy appealing books, many of which were recommended on other blogs, so it is all worthwhile in the end (?).

At one support group meeting from Friends organizations, one FOL president said that they didn't buy books, because that was the responsibility of the library. I thought this was strange. Our library has so much ground to catch up in j. and ya fiction that it needs all the help it can get (they seem to have stopped buying more than an utter minimum around 1970). The Librarians are busily purging (Over the Alps with Hannibal bit the dust yesterday), and we are all busily buying, and soon, I hope, more and more children will be leaving the library with fiction, and not just school report books. Our librarian is being careful not to throw books of value out, and anyway, they all come to me in the end for the book sale. The books that I like best, however, I checked out before I became a Friend of the Library, thus ensuring that they'll stay on the library's shelves and not make it to mine just yet.

Naming of Parts

Note to reader: Despite the title, this poem has nothing to do with The Higher Power of Lucky, nor with any other children's book. It has to do with Spring and War. It was written by English poet Henry Reed in 1942.


NAMING OF PARTS

To-day we have naming of parts. Yesterday,
We had daily cleaning. And to-morrow morning,
We shall have what to do after firing. But to-day,
To-day we have naming of parts. Japonica
Glistens like coral in all of the neighboring gardens,
And to-day we have naming of parts.

This is the lower sling swivel. And this
Is the upper sling swivel, whose use you will see,
When you are given your slings. And this is the piling swivel
Which in your case you have not got. The branches
Hold in the gardens their silent, eloquent gestures,
Which in our case we have not got.

This is the safety-catch, which is always released
With an easy flick of the thumb. And please do not let me
See anyone using his finger. You can do it quite easy
If you have any strength in your thumb. The blossoms
Are fragile and motionless, never letting anyone see
Any of them using their finger.

And this you can see is the bolt. The purpose of this
Is to open the breech, as you see. We can slide it
Rapidly backwards and forwards: we call this
Easing the spring. And rapidly backwards and forwards
The early bees are assaulting and fumbling the flowers:
They call it easing the Spring.

They call it easing the Spring: it is perfectly easy
If you have any strength in your thumb: like the bolt,
And the breech, and the cocking-piece, and the point of balance,
Which in our case we have not got; and the almond-blossom
Silent in all of the gardens and the bees going backwards and forwards,
For to-day we have naming of parts.

At the Henry Reed website there are links that clarify and illustrate the text. Up above is one type of Japonica, at left is another.
Visit A Chair, a Fireplace & a Tea Cozy for more Poetry Friday offerings!

"Boys' Books" --good thing, bad thing, or whatever

There's an article in the Guardian today, in which the British Secretary for Education proposes that every secondary school have a "'boys' bookshelf' stacked with contemporary authors such as Melvyn Burgess and Anthony Horowitz to provide 'positive, modern, relevant role models' for boys who are reluctant to read or nervous about being bullied..." At the end of the article is a short list of books that might qualify, including one I just checked out of my library --The Foreshadowing, by Marcus Sedgwick.

I'm not sure I like this idea. I suppose (tongue in check) that once the boys start reading they will naturally learn to love it and not care anymore if they are carrying around books with strong female characters, or books with pink covers and sparkles, and I suppose that boys who like old fashioned fantasy or gentle character driven books are a. doomed anyway b. strong readers who don't need a boys' bookshelf. And I realize that girls aren't the point of this, but I for one am utterly put off by books labeled as "boys' books" and have probably refused to read many good books in consequence.

This article struck a chord in me. I just read my 6 year old's report card, and one area where progress is needed is in "choosing appropriate books." Apparently he has been choosing inappropriate ones left and right. What this means beats me. Has he begged to cross the lines of gender stereotypes? Has he begged for books that name body parts? Or has he simply asked for books he can't read yet (which includes most of the books in the world)?

The idea of Official "Books for Boys" Pickers telling my children what books to read is not a comfortable one.

Here's The Foreshadowing. A book for boys.

Fiction books about women's suffrage

This being Women's History Month, I have been musing about children's fiction books about women's suffrage. It was not a long muse, because I could only think of one-- Miss Rivers and Miss Bridges, by Geraldine Symons (MacMillan, 1971). We are the only library in Rhode Island that still has a copy, which is a shame as it is a great book (I was the first person to check it out in 15 years, saving it from the discard pile by a hair). 13 year old Pansy sets of for London at the beginning of last century, little knowing that her friend Atalanta is going to get them arrested for their enthusiastic participation in the Suffragette movement. There are several books about Pansy and Atalanta, all good reads.

Even when I tried to widen my mental book search to "good fiction directly about women's rights" (not including the "women have careers" or "go to college" genres) I came up with very little. There's The Mills Down Below, by Mabel Esther Allan, which is also dated, out-of-print, and English. Sure, there are lots of books with references -- one I like is Jean Thesman's The Ornament Tree (in print and American)--but I couldn't even find much on line. Maybe my heart just wasn't in the googling, or maybe America has been satisfied with those dry sort-of-dull-cereal type biographies that children across the country seem forced to check out of the library when they are in third grade or thereabouts -- "I Am Susan B. Anthony" etc. Or maybe there are really good fiction books out there that I don't know about or have forgotten.

Blow out the Moon and other boarding school stories

Among the books I recently picked up for my library was Blow out the Moon, by Libby Koponen (2004). I was at my local independent bookstore, which was having a clearance sale, when I should have been at work, so I was scooping up books based on their covers--Blow out the Moon has just come out in paperback, but I like the hc cover (at left) much better! I was pleased to see, once I unpacked everything, that I had come home with a book about an American girl who goes to an English boarding school in the 1950s, when her family moves to England.

It is based on the true experiences of the author, and it is filled with little sidebar snippets of old photographs, notes, letters etc. from the life of the narrator (but not necessarily the author--I am a bit confused on this point. Anyway, they look real). All this extra stuff distracted me, but I bet a lot of the 10 year old girls who are, after all, the intended audience, liked this aspect of the book. Things started off strong, with the exciting move to England, and Libby's first dismal experience of English school life, but once Libby was sent to boarding school (at the shocking age of 8), everything was so idyllic I was not quite as interested. But again, girls younger than me may well find that half of the book incredibly appealing for its fantastical otherness.

Libby Koponen has a great web site: http://www.ifyoulovetoread.com/ with lots of pictures!

I'm a hard core fan of English boarding school stories, and this was an interesting comparison. My fondness for English school stories began with my extensive reading of Enid Blyton's school stories as a child. I found myself at the age of five at a British school in Portugal, being told in rather unfriendly tones--"You stand there with her--she's another American." So, like the Libby who narrates this book, I found myself becoming more fiercely American than I had been before (like Libby, I wouldn't sing the British national anthem). Enid Blyton was about the only author available in English in northern Portugal at the time, so I devoured her St. Claires and Mallory Towers books. About 10 years ago I discovered, through the yahoo group Girlsown that there are many other wonderful school stories out there -- by authors such as Antonia Forest, Evelyn Smith, Josephine Elder, and Margaret Biggs. My husband has built more bookcases.

Here's a basic guide to some of the better known writers: http://www.gatewaymonthly.com/girlauthorb.html

Reading non-fiction aloud

I have two boys, 6 and 3. They must be read to, they must learn to read, I must help their young minds unfold like the petals of beautiful flowers (ha ha ha). I must find decent non-fiction to read to them, in order to do all of the above. They also happen to like non-fiction.

Non fiction for 6 year olds these days seems to be divided into two groups --the banal learning to read books, about which I will say no more, and the lavishly illustrated, lots of information in clumps all over the page, style (ala the D.K. "Look Closer" series).
Now, I am a good reader out loud. I can even handle Magic School bus books with grace and aplomb (including reading all the dialogue bits and random thingies). But I am getting really tired of these non-fiction books that break up the text into info. bits. They are hard to read, and because they aren't written for reading out loud, the prose is often stilted. Even when the prose is just fine, it can be tough going (The Way Things Work. Heavy going, pun intended). So I find myself editing, altering, explaining and expanding, to keep their interest up as we bounce through the books. Not very relaxing, even with a beautiful and informative book (like Tide Pools).

So I got out my own non-fiction books, read repeatedly during my well-spent youth - the Fish/Birds/Reptiles/etc do the Strangest Things series (Random House Step Up Books Nature Library, mostly 1966). They are not beautifully illustrated, they are not at the cutting edge of information transmittal to the young, and somethings are even wrong. But darn it, they have large pieces of text that can be read aloud, not quite by my six-year old, but almost, they use straightforward language, and they keep the interest of both boys, even though the interesting facts are contained in the text and not floating around the page.

Just another small grievance with the banal You Can Read Non-Fiction book genre -- what's all this 1st person business? "I am a shark" "I am a snowflake" "I am a wolf" (it could be just my library's fault). I've never been a fan of first person narratives. Are publishers somehow trying to connect readers to words by making it as personal as possible? Is it part of some hideous self-actualization process that they think young readers have to go through to Master the Text? Or is it simply that "I" is easier to read than "you"?

In very poor taste--"book titles you'll never see"

I found this, lifted from one of the Guardian's bookblogs, rather funny...

The Game, by Diana Wynne Jones

A new book by a favorite author is always a happy thing, and The Game, by Diana Wynne Jones, made my weekend much happier. It is a fast paced tale of orphaned Hayley, raised by a strict grandmother and much more friendly grandfather, who gets unceremoniously dumped into an enormous house in Ireland, full of strange cousins and aunts (no uncles).

DWJ can be a twisty writer, and she made me a tad nervous a few pages into the book with a throw-away reference to something us readers had no clue about, but it was soon explained.  All is not as it seems in Hayley's family, and "the game" her cousins play turns out to be rollicking, sometimes alarming, excursions through the (primarily Greek) mythosphere.

There's a lot of action, Haley's a likable character, and it's a good read. But there isn't a whole lot of numinosity (the sort of thing that makes you hold your breath with the wonder and enchantment of it all and the hairs on the back of your neck rise). It's only 192 pages; I wish DWJ had made it longer and deeper. Oh well.

Poems that would make great books #1- Cargoes

Here's a poem for mad March days that we like very much --Cargoes, by John Masefield. There's something about the emphatic downbeat, especially in the last verse, that has great appeal to my boys (perhaps because emphatic downbeats are such a natural part of their lives). And the words are magical. Even if you don't know, for instance, what exactly gold moidores are, it doesn't mater.

Quinquireme of Nineveh from distant Ophir,
Rowing home to haven in sunny Palestine,
With a cargo of ivory,
And apes and peacocks,
Sandalwood, cedarwood, and sweet white wine.

Stately Spanish galleon coming from the Isthmus,
Dipping through the Tropics by the palm-green shores,
With a cargo of diamonds,
Emeralds, amethysts,
Topazes, and cinnamon, and gold moidores.

Dirty British coaster with a salt-caked smoke stack,
Butting through the channel in the mad March days,
With a cargo of Tyne coal,
Road-rail, pig-lead,
Firewood, iron-ware, and cheap tin trays.

Wouldn't this be a great picture book? I see each verse on its own page,with a lavish double page illustration, followed by a page, or several pages, of non-fiction gloss, explaining it all, with maps of trade routes and cut away pictures of the ships and explanations of the cargoes etc. etc.

John Masefield was also the author of two great children's books published in the 1930s-The Midnight Folk and The Box of Delights. They are both stories of the magical adventures of orphaned Kay Harker as he tries to foil the evil intentions of a local coven of witches (one of whom is his governess, Sylvia Daisy Pouncer), find the great treasure his ancestor lost in The Midnight Folk and keep the Box of Delights from falling into their hands in the second book. There is a very charming cat featured, lots of action,talking pictures, mysterious journeys. How could one not warm to a book that opens with a mysterious stranger approaching on a snowy night, to tell you that "the Wolves are Running!" (first chapter of B. of D.). Sadly, they aren't in print anymore, but if your library has them, or you see a cheap copy, go for it!



Here's one cover for a paperback edition of The Midnight Folk.

Cygnet

Ace books has just released two of Patricia McKillip's ya fantasy novels in one volume, titled CYGNET. I love both these books--The Sorceress and the Cygnet (1991) and The Cygnet and the Firebird (1993), and I am very very happy that they have been re-released because maybe that means there will be a third book coming! I am sure that many others who know how it ends agree with me that there has to be more to the story...

Patricia McKillip is a writer of beautifully crafted words. She is a story teller who does not write for her readers, but for the sake of the story, if that makes any sense. And because the story has such a life of its own, sometimes the reader gets a tad confused (ie, a lot of her books have confused the heck out of me, although not as much as Diana Wynne Jones' Fire and Hemlock). But the rich, dense, imaginings she offers are worth the confusion. I especially love The Cygnet and the Firebird, which I think is much the stronger of the two books, possibly because I was less confused. This one should perhaps be read first if the reader is Doubtful about the whole thing. It has some of the most beautiful descriptions of dragons I know of, and my favorite two pages of romance in a fantasy book (so much nicer to read than all the torid romance in the recently read fourth book of the travelling pants (see below)).