Archive for the 'Books' Category
June 14, 2010 @ 7:37 pm | Filed under: Books
Finished The Whisper of Glocken, Carol Kendall’s sequel to The Gammage Cup. It was even better than Gammage, though The Firelings still holds the top spot in my heart. I want to write at more length about Kendall’s beguiling, quirky, suspenseful books, especially her fondness for bands of unlikely heroes whose faults turn out, Meg Murry-like, to be their strengths. For now I’ll just say that I highly recommend all three of these novels as family read-alouds or as satisfying read-alones for boys, girls, and fantasy-loving adults.
Received an advance review copy of Mindblind, a new YA novel by Jennifer Roy about a 14-year-old boy with Asperger’s and a genius-level intellect. I enjoyed it, was fascinated by the way Nathaniel’s mind works, and simultaneously appreciated and felt wistful over the general awesomeness of his mother and circle of friends. It is clearly a book with a mission, seeking to help readers understand Asperger’s and autism, but it mostly puts story first. Anyway, I’m all for helping readers (including me) better understand Asperger’s and autism. Once again, I’m working on a better, deeper-digging post about this book and a few others that have moved me recently: Kathy Erskine’s brilliant and powerful Mockingbird; Cynthia Lord’s Rules; Charlotte Moore’s memoir about her sons George and Sam. All enthusiastically recommended. (But George and Sam is not for younger readers.)
River in the Desert, that book about the LA aqueduct I’ve been dabbling in for two months. I’m not going to finish it (I see that now), but I’ve learned a lot and it’s certainly a fascinating piece of history, with far-reaching consequences.
And then Scott brought home A.S. Byatt’s The Children’s Book, which I’ve been in line for at the library for months and months. When did it pub? Since that day. It’s as big as my first NYC apartment, so yeah, there goes the rest of my summer reading plans. LIKE I CARE. Two chapters in, I’m riveted, and I have very high hopes.
June 8, 2010 @ 7:38 pm | Filed under: Books
Scott brought home a library book I had requested, though my memory of doing so is fuzzy. Someone, somewhere, mentioned something about Rebecca West, and I looked her up and couldn’t find the book the someone was talking about (and I’ve since forgotten what it was), but there was this other book by West, and, well, you know how easy it is to click that “request a copy” box.
So here it is, a hulk of a book, approximately the size of my first car. Black Lamb and Grey Falcon: A Journey through Yugoslavia. Will I read it? Seems unlikely that I’ll finish: if I do, it knocks my summer reading plans pretty well to smithereens. But I opened it, because it is here, and it feels like reading a letter from someone you like very much indeed, someone smart and perceptive and pleasantly obsessive.
“My dear,” she tells her husband in the prologue,
“I know I have inconvenienced you terribly by making you take your holiday now, and I know you did not really want to come to Yugoslavia at all. But when you get there you will see why it was so important that we should make this journey, and that we should make it now, at Easter. It will all be quite clear, once we are in Yugoslavia.”
These words are lost on her husband, who is asleep in his train berth. But she certainly has me at hello. And then this:
It was perhaps as well. I could not have gone on to justify my certainty that this train was taking us to a land where everything was comprehensible, where the mode of life was so honest that it put an end to perplexity.
About this, I must hear. Where the mode of life was so honest that it put an end to perplexity. She’s writing in 1940 (the book was first published in 1940 1941) about a journey undertaken in 1937, following a visit the previous year.
One the train from Salzburg (Austria) to Zagreb (Croatia), West and her husband share a car with two German couples, and the conversation turns to various difficulties the businessmen are suffering in the maze of new tax laws and red tape. One of the German women tells a story about her hairdresser’s assistant, who tearfully expresses a fear that she hasn’t passed an examination she was required to take in order to continue at her job:
She had said to the girl, “But I am sure you will pass your examination, for you are so very good at your work.” But the girl had answered, “Yes, I am good at my work. Shampooing can I do, and water-waving can I do, and marcelling can I do, and oil massage can I do, and hair-dyeing can I do, but keep from mixing up Goring’s and Goebbels’s birthday, that I cannot do.” They had all laughed at this, and then again fell silent.
The business man said, “But all the young people, they are solid for Hitler. For them all is done.”
The others said, “Ja, das ist so!” and the business woman began, “Yes, our sons,” and then stopped.
This is an 1150 page book. I need to read more of them.
June 4, 2010 @ 6:23 am | Filed under: Betsy-Tacy,Books,Music
[Harry] started coming to the Rays’ regularly. He brought Julia flowers and candy. He brought her the score of The Red Mill, and he and Julia sang a duet from it:
“Not that you are fair, dear
Not that you are true…”He lifted his eyebrows and puffed out his chest. He quite eclipsed poor Hugh.
—from Betsy in Spite of Herself
by Maud Hart Lovelace
The Red Mill, an operetta by Victor Herbert and Henry Blossom, opened on Broadway in 1906. Among Herbert’s other works are Babes in Toyland (1903) and Naughty Marietta (1910).
Here’s the score of The Red Mill, including “Because You’re You,” the song Julia sang with the chest-puffing Harry.
Love is a queer little elfin sprite,
Blest with the deadliest aim!
Shooting his arrows to left and right,
Bagging the rarest game,
Filling our hearts with a glad surprise,
Almost too good to be true!
And still can you tell me why do you love me?
Only because you are you, dear!Not that you are fair, dear,
Not that I am true,
Not my golden hair, dear,
Not my eyes of blue,
When we ask the reason,
Words are all too few!
So I know I love you, dear,
Because you’re you!
• The Red Mill at Wikipedia. Fun tidbit:
In 1906, producer Charles Dillingham made theatrical history by placing in front of the Knickerbocker Theater a revolving red windmill powered and lit by electricity. This was Broadway’s first moving illuminated sign.
• Selections from The Red Mill in a Youtube clip. My guess is that “Because You’re You” is the melody beginning around 2:27.
Betsy-Tacy, Betsy-Tacy scrapbook
June 3, 2010 @ 7:48 am | Filed under: Books
Oh, I crack myself up.
It’s all the books I have started in the past year or so, read big chunks of, am truly eager to finish, but haven’t for one reason or another. (Dunno if I’ve ever mentioned it, but I have six kids.)
If I stand a chance of whittling down that list, I may have to swear off certain blogs for the summer. Colleen Mondor of Chasing Ray, for example, has a knack for inflaming my booklust. A hazard to the TBR pile, she is. In the best possible way. 
I mean, how can I resist an opening like this?—
Guy Gavriel Kay’s Under Heaven has reminded me of just how important story is to a novel. Set in a fictionalized version of 8th century China (called Kitai), this is Lord of the Rings for the history crowd. No elves or dwarves (although there are ghosts and other slightly fantastic/gothic elements) but it has the same type of deep rich world building and a plot that is equaled only by an amazing set of characters. I honestly did not expect to love the book as much as I did.
So, you know, that one squeezed under the wire onto my library reserve list.
Colleen’s full review at Chasing Ray. I admit I stopped at the first paragraph so I wouldn’t hear too much detail about the story itself—Colleen’s opener was what persuaded me I wanted to read the book. After I do, I’ll go back and read the rest of her post.
June 2, 2010 @ 6:25 am | Filed under: Books
I keep thinking that’s it, I’m drawing a line, no new books until I’ve finished all the ones already here—but I can hardly finish the thought before the disclaimers come crowding in. Well, except review copies; wouldn’t want to stop those from coming. And there’s all those waiting lists I’m on at the library: #16 of 31 holds for The Weed that Strings the Hangman’s Bag; 48 out of 56 for The Immortal Life of Henrietta Lacks.
And friends have new books coming out; I’ll want to read those.
And there’s that one book I keep hearing about everywhere lately, it seems—including, HELLO!, just now in the teaser from Nick Hornby’s June Believer column. (Sigh—already a new issue to tantalize me.) There seems to have been quite a crowd of people who tumbled simultaneously to Elif Batuman’s The Possessed: Adventures with Russian Books and the People Who Read Them in the past month. Where was I when this mass tumbling-to happened? How many Russian novels is this book going to make me want to read (or re-read)?
Remember in Amadeus when the Emperor responds to Mozart’s opera with the devastating zinger, “Too many notes?” And Mozart is appalled: how could anyone think such a thing? There were as many notes as there needed to be, “No more, no less.” Too many notes. Ridiculous notion. The Emperor begs to differ. “There are only so many notes the ear can hear in the course of an evening.”
I understand Wulfie’s incredulity. One might as well say, “There are only so many books one can read in a lifetime.”
What? Bite your tongue!
***
Books I read in May:
Kids’ graphic novels
Chiggers by Hope Larson.
Smile by Raina Telgemeier. Wry memoir of the author’s junior-high orthodontic nightmare (she fell and knocked out her front teeth). My tween girls, who have braces in their near future, found the dentistry details fascinating. (No doubt they found the middle-school drama fascinating too. Raina has mean-girl friends and various boy woes.)
Lunch Lady and the Author Vendetta by Jarrett J. Krosoczka. The Lunch Lady, if you didn’t know, is a spy; her spy gadgets are all cleverly disguised as food and kitchen utensils. She defeats bad guys with whisks. In this one, Lunch Lady and the Author Vendetta, a trio of intrepid students makes clever use of gym socks to fend off a team of hypnotized gym teachers. Very silly; lots of fun.
Middle-grade fiction
The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. An old favorite in these parts. I was just in the mood.
Sarah and Katie by Dori White (mentioned here, not in depth). This one, I’ll have to save for its own post. It was a childhood favorite, long forgotten, that came back to me in great big wallops, smacking me back into my own past. It’s as moving as I remembered it.
Favorite Medieval Tales by Mary Pope Osborne. Sir Gawain and the Green Knight is my favorite of the tales included here. Gorgeous artwork.
Blubber by Judy Blume. Another blast from the past.
YA fiction
Betsy in Spite of Herself by Maud Hart Lovelace. Yes, again.
I Capture the Castle by Dodie Smith (post).
The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope (every bit as wonderful as The Sherwood Ring). This, too, deserves its own post! Nutshell version: Tudor period, exiled girl, old castle, greenwood, green cloak, mysterious lady, brooding younger son, lost child, house of secrets, enchanted people, secret caves, Tam Lin. What. Is. Not. To. Love.
Memoir
Prairie Tale: A Memoir by Melissa Gilbert.
Confessions of a Prairie Bitch: How I Survived Nellie Oleson & Learned to Love Being Hated by Alison Arngrim. Alison had, it turns out, quite a difficult childhood (understatement), but playing one of America’s most loathed TV villains gave her a curious kind of strength. She writes with great humor and warmth, dishing up affection and snark in equal parts. The Little House fangirl that I am really enjoyed the behind-the-scenes peek at the TV show that played such a huge part in my childhood. Colorful language (ahem), colorful anecdotes, and some quite touching sketches of cast and crew members, such as the makeup artist who had worked with Marilyn Monroe and still carried an engraved money clip she gave him in appreciation of his talents.
Not yet finished
Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy by Douglas Adams (a reread).
Crow Planet by Lyanda Lynn Haupt. (Almost finished; delightful.)
And about half a dozen first chapters, thanks to the Kindle-for-iPod app’s “sample this book” feature. The Possessed (see above); the opening of Melissa Sue Anderson’s memoir (figured I ought to read Mary’s too, now that I’ve read Laura’s and Nellie’s); Scott Westerfield’s Leviathan; Susan Cooper’s The Dark Is Rising; I can’t remember what else.
May 31, 2010 @ 8:23 pm | Filed under: Betsy-Tacy,Books,Music
“I’ve a new waltz I want Mamma to hear. She talks so often of the great Strauss. Here is a piece as good as any of his and it is also by a Viennese.”
He began to play.
The opening phrases were short and artless. They sounded like a rocking horse. But the swing began to grow longer, the rhythm stronger. The waltz began to ask questions, wistful, poignant. It took on a dreamier sweep.
Then a gayer theme sent Uncle Rudy’s fingers rippling over the keys. The melody wove in and out. It circled, swayed, as though it were music and dancer in on. It was irresistible.
—from Betsy in Spite of Herself
by Maud Hart Lovelace
It just freaked me out a little to realize that the Happy Birthday song on Tom Chapin’s Moonboat CD—Wonderboy’s favorite CD, hands down—is set to the tune of the Merry Widow waltz.
• The Merry Widow (first performed in Vienna in 1905)
• Merry Widow hat spoofed in a set of postcards, 1908
• Composer Franz Lehar
Betsy-Tacy, Betsy-Tacy scrapbook, Merry Widow Waltz
May 28, 2010 @ 6:34 am | Filed under: Art,Books,Fun Learning Stuff,History
More middle ages fun.
Heraldry:
• Roger the Herald’s Notes on Blazonry. Wonderful starting point for learning the language of blazonry. Sable, a lion rampant or, in chief azure three stars or. There’s a game set inside a story, for helping you get the lingo down. Huge hit with Beanie.
• design your own coat of arms
• SCA heraldry primer
Illumination:
• Book of Kells
• The Fitzwilliam Museum’s interactive animation about how illuminated manuscripts were made. This is extremely cool.
• SCA Illumination pool at Flickr Examples of recent work by members of the Society for Creative Anachronism. It awes me to see people putting so much care and time into mastering this ancient art. There is some truly stunning work here.
• Gutenberg School for Scribes. A how-to site for people interested in trying their hand at illumination.
• Wynn the Wayward. An SCA scribe doing breathtaking work.
Books:
Some Dover activity books have made their way into our middle ages collection.
• Design Your Own Coat of Arms (has been a big hit)
• Life in a Medieval Castle and Village Coloring Book
• Medieval Fashions Coloring Book (there’s a paper dolls version too—these are some of those gorgeous books by Tom Tierney).
book of kells, heraldry, illuminated manuscripts, middle ages
May 27, 2010 @ 7:36 am | Filed under: Books
“The received wisdom is that novels too much of the moment won’t last: but what else do we have that delves so deeply into what we were thinking and feeling at any given period? In fifty or one hundred years’ times, we are, I suspect, unlikely to want to know what someone writing in 2010 had to say about the American Civil War. I don’t want to put you off, if you’re just writing the last paragraph of a seven-hundred-page epic about Gettysburg—I’m sure you’ll win loads of prizes and so on. But after that, you’ve had it.”
—excerpt from Nick Hornby’s “Stuff I’m Reading” column in the May 2010 issue of The Believer, which you can begin reading here but have to track down a hard copy to finish.
Thoughts?
May 26, 2010 @ 4:11 pm | Filed under: Books
That sound you hear is impatience. The UPS truck should have been here AN HOUR AGO. With the magazine that Amazon assured me would be here TWO DAYS AGO.
Don’t these people know I’ve got a date with a Nick Hornby article?
Disgruntled.
more nonsense, yes I did try to make the purchase at a local bookstore first four of them actually, yes I really do know what time the UPS truck arrives
May 26, 2010 @ 6:30 am | Filed under: Books
Attempting to catch up on notes about things I’ve recently read and enjoyed…
Of all the curiosities that had been pitched out of Fooley’s balloon, the painting was the only one to fall into the Watercress River. When it had been fished out, nobody knew what it was, but fortunately Fooley had listed in his book the names of the curiosities, and when everthing else was checked off—like the family tree, the poem, the hourglass—it was obvious that the remaining item was a painting. The bath in the Watercress had done it no good. Though the colors of the squares, triangles, circles, and shields were clear enough, and the interconnecting black lines intact, the piece of parchment looked as though inky fingers had daubed it. But daubs or no daubs, the Periods (and therefore the ordinary villagers) adopted the painting for their own. Ever since Fooley’s time, a painting was a pattern of colored shaped connected by black lines, following the classical example.
The Gammage Cup by Carol Kendall. Kendall is one of those writers whose voice I just plain enjoy. She’s a quirky storyteller with a taste for misfits. This novel is about the Minnipins, a tradition-loving people who live in small villages in an isolated mountain valley. Their distant ancestors settled here after escaping from terrible enemies about whom little is known, now, except their names: The Mushrooms. A few centuries ago, one of the Minnipins journeyed over the mountains and back via hot air balloon. Most of Fooley’s souvenirs—and memories—were scattered when he crash-landed back at home, but the remaining fragments have been carefully enshrined in a village museum and in the customs of his descendants. (You can tell them apart from the rest of the villagers by their names, which are taken from a scrap of paper that survived the crash and is now presumed to be a list of the friends Fooley made on his journey: Ave., Co., Wm., Eng., etc. “The Periods,” as these folk are reverently called, run the village.)
Folks in the village like things to be done just so, and they have little tolerance for eccentrics like Gummy the poet or lively Curley Green, who recklessly paints images of things from real life, in disregard of the proper classical style. (My kids love Kendall’s work, but her character names drive them up a wall.) When Muggles, the reluctant heroine, and her misfit friends begin to suspect the terrible Mushrooms are preparing for another attack, they have to persuade the rest of the villagers that the danger is real. Instead, they get kicked out of the village.
This is a fun read, somewhat formulaic but Kendall’s unusual voice makes the formula feel new. Beneath the storybook action is a quiet exploration of intellectual honesty; the villagers—especially The Periods—tend to do things just because that’s the way they’ve always been done, without pondering the origins of the customs. Muggles, though fearful of the social consequences of coloring outside the lines, can’t help but ask questions.
There’s a sequel, The Whisper of Glocken, which Rose and Jane have beat me to. They enjoyed it.
The cover of the current paperback edition is perfectly dreadful. I tried not to look at it too much.
Here’s my old post about Kendall’s wonderful The Firelings, which also takes a look at the relationship between custom and reason.
booknotes, Carol Kendall, good read-alouds, middle grade novels, The Gammage Cup
