Jeremiah, whose health is fragile because of a heart transplant, loves baseball but is not physically able to play. When he and his adoptive father, Walt, move to Hillcrest, Ohio for Walt’s job (which involves programming robots), Jeremiah finds that the town is struggling to maintain a baseball team after the death of a teen player and the discovery of a steroids scandal. Never one to give up hope, Jeremiah decides to bring baseball back to Hillcrest by starting up a new middle school team and stepping up to be its coach.
It is so hard to find a book with a truly happy main character, but Jeremiah is one such rare figure. Though he has his share of problems (in addition to the heart transplant, he was also abandoned as a baby), he has an indomitable spirit, and he uses his positivity to reach out and encourage others. Somehow, though, unlike other books that try to be inspirational, this one never feels cheesy. Jeremiah’s voice is strong, his personality is fun and quirky, and because of his unusual experiences, he is wise beyond his years in a way which is charming, rather than annoying.
The supporting characters, too, are authentic and lovable. Jeremiah and Walt have a warm, comfortable relationship, without a hint of angst or dysfunction. They tease each other in gentle ways, and occasionally Jeremah makes comments like this, which hint at the type of bond they have:
Walt said when I was little and couldn’t sleep, he’d sing me the Michigan fight song. He’s such a bad singer, I think I went to sleep to protect myself (p. 100).
The kids who join the team, and Jeremiah’s neighbor, El Grande, who is a former baseball player, are also fully realized individuals. The kids on the team each have their quirks and flaws and El Grande fulfills the role of mentor and legend very well. (At one point, after chatting with El Grande, Jeremiah even notes that “[t]here should be special movie music when El Grande walks back across the street to his house” (p.152).)
Author Joan Bauer also makes great use of the eagle as a metaphor in this story. Jeremiah’s birth mother leaves him with a stuffed eagle, which he calls Baby. Jeremiah spends a lot of time watching eagles on the Nature Conservancy’s Eagle Cam, and they provide him with inspiration. Finally, Jeremiah gives his baseball team the name of the Eagles, due to his belief that they can learn to soar.
This is one of the best baseball novels out there, and though Joan Bauer has previously mainly targeted a female audience, this book really will have universal appeal. Recommend Soar to readers who like Fred Bowen’s sports stories and/or those who have loved The Toilet Paper Tigers, About the B’nai Bagels, and Plunked.
Monday, February 1, 2016
Sunday, January 31, 2016
Fumbling Through Fantasy: The Wonderful Wizard of Oz by L. Frank Baum (1900)
Typically, I like to read books before I see their film adaptations, as I prefer to conjure up my own ideas of how the characters look, sound, and move without the influence of the actors who portray them, and because the book is usually better. In this case, though, if I had read the book first, I'm not certain I would ever have wanted to see the film. The writing style is very straightforward, to the point that it is almost all telling, with no showing. Part of this may be due to the fact that the book is meant to be more of a fairy tale than a work of literary fiction, but to me, it felt like the author spent a lot of words on minutiae but continually skipped past the most potentially exciting parts of the book with just a few sentences.
Elements of the story that I love from the film version - the conceit that the entire story is a dream starring people Dorothy knows, the antagonism of the Wicked Witch of the West toward Dorothy, even the red ruby slippers - are completely missing from the book. While I knew better than to expect the film and the book to be identical, I was surprised and disappointed that the things I have always considered to be the heart and soul of the Wizard of Oz story are not actually part of the original work at all. Honestly, it is amazing, now that I've read the source material, that the creators of the film were able to make such a wonderful, iconic movie out of such a drab and boring tale.
I also did not care for the illustrations. The copy I have is the 100th Anniversary Edition, which reproduces the pictures - including 24 color plates - exactly as they appeared in the first edition. Unfortunately, these images just look old-fashioned and unappealing. The figures are almost grotesque in appearance, and made me feel uneasy. There are some pages where the illustrations come right up over the text, making it difficult to decipher. The illustrations do break up the text nicely but otherwise, I probably could have done without them.
The Wonderful Wizard of Oz is probably easy enough to be read independently by a third or fourth grader, and I suspect, particularly if they haven't seen the movie yet that this audience will enjoy it more than I did. Still, compared with quest stories like The Hobbit and the Lord of the Rings trilogy, this book just feels shallow and somehow incomplete. This is one of the few situations where I would say to see the movie, and skip the book.
Wednesday, January 27, 2016
Tips for Watching Videos with Toddlers (with a List of Our Favorites!)
- Choose videos with minimal commentary. Not all, but many of the first videos I watched with Little Miss Muffet were nature videos, which were either silent, except for the sounds the animals naturally made, or set to instrumental music. The benefit of the limited soundtrack is that I could make my own comments about what we were seeing on the screen without having to pause the video or talk over a narrator. Because I was directing the commentary, I could then draw Miss Muffet's attention to details I knew would especially interest her, or to new information I wanted her to learn.
- Connect each viewing session with a book or activity. Watching random videos might have some educational value, but it's even more likely that your child will learn something if you watch videos with a specific purpose in mind. When Little Miss Muffet was really into Jim Arnosky's Little Lions, we started watching this video about lion cubs at the San Diego Zoo. Now she knows what they eat and which toys they like to play with. When the National Zoo's panda cub was born, we would check in on the Panda Cam a couple of times a day to see what the cub was doing. Now that Miss Muffet's favorite book is Owl Babies, we like to watch the video adaptation, too, and this has really contributed to her memorizing almost the entire story word for word. You don't need to have an entire lesson plan to accompany a video, but even just a simple book, craft, or game should be enough to reinforce the video content your child consumes.
- Interact with content. Watching a video is never a passive experience for Miss Muffet. We discuss everything that is happening on the screen. We identify colors and animals. We count how many birds are in the sky, or how many tusks an elephant has. We dance along with Michael Rosen's rendition of We're Going on a Bear Hunt, and identify the speaker of each line of dialogue in Owl Babies. Very occasionally, she will be allowed to sit alone and watch a video, but it's always one we have seen before, and usually, she will do at least some of what I have modeled for her even if I am in the next room and not directly involved in the presentation.
- Set limits. This is another recommendation from the American Academy of Pediatrics. For me, setting limits means we don't watch videos endlessly without a plan. I will usually select a number of videos that we will watch, or a set amount of time that we will spend watching. Typically, the maximum number of videos we watch in one sitting is three, and I doubt we have ever watched more than 20 minutes total in a single day. She asks for screen time much more often, but I stand firm in my limitations and suggest other activities instead. Videos are provided solely at my discretion, and never simply because she wants to watch one.
- Build a playlist. Always pre-screen videos before sharing them with your child and plan how you will use them. I usually do this during nap time. I search for videos on topics that we have been discussing a lot, or of books that we especially like and save them for later viewing. This way, I am never scrambling to find appropriate content while Miss Muffet is watching, and I can also anticipate what is coming in the video as we're viewing it so I can tailor my commentary accordingly. By building a playlist ahead of time, I always know that I am sharing content of value that does not include any age-inappropriate material.
Little Miss Muffet's favorite YouTube videos are below:
- Sesame Street: African Alphabet with Kermit
- Owl Babies - Picture Book Animation
- Michael Rosen performs We're Going on a Bear Hunt
- San Diego Zoo Kids - Lion Cubs
- The Very Hungry Caterpillar
- Bill Martin Reads Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?
- San Diego Zoo Kids - Elephant Care
- Cow Videos for Children, More Cows for Kids
- Horses for Kids - Horse Videos for Children
- Travel for Kids | Monkeys Playing - San Diego Zoo
- A blue peacock opening his tail up close to the camera
Tuesday, January 26, 2016
Reading with Little Miss Muffet and Little Bo Peep, January 2016
Busting Boredom with Books
Little Bo Peep (just turning 4 months) is getting to the age now where she is beginning to desire entertainment in addition to bottles, snuggles, and clean diapers. When she is fussing and nothing else seems to comfort her, it usually works to give her a book to look at. If she's lying on the floor, I will stand up Black and White by Tana Hoban, or the Alphaprints ABC book she got for Christmas and just let her take in the images on the pages. She kicks her legs, coos, and even reaches out to try to knock the book over. It's so nice to see even a small baby beginning to have her own relationship with books.
Singable Picture Books
Little Miss Muffet (age 2 years, 2 months) has suddenly started to demand that all picture books be sung, whether they have a tune or not. Rather than start making up tunes for every book under the sun, we have been borrowing a lot of singable picture books from the library - and revisiting the ones in our own collection - to satisfy this new fascination. Here are some titles we have recently enjoyed:
- The Babies on the Bus by Karen Katz
- The Seals on the Bus by Lenny Hort
- Row Row Row Your Boat by Iza Trapani
- Twinkle Twinkle Little Star illustrated by Julia Noonan
- Lullaby and Good Night by Julie Downing
- Old MacDonald Had a Woodshop by Lisa Shulman and Ashley Wolff
- Mockingbird by Allan Ahlberg and Paul Howard
- Mary Wore Her Red Dress and Henry Wore His Green Sneakers by Merle Peek
- Hush Little Baby by Margot Zemach
We borrowed Lullaby and Good Night from the library, but it has become such a special favorite that we had to order a copy of our own. It has beautiful illustrations, and the music for each lullaby is worked into the pictures. It also just happened to have a version of I See the Moon, which is a song we already love from Marylee's 1, 2, 3 Sing with Me! album, so it was an instant hit with Miss Muffet - and with me, too.
Highlights High Five
Last year, we had a subscription to Highlights Hello, and we loved it! I saved all the back issues to share with Little Bo Peep, but now, thanks to Grandma, we have a new subscription to Highlights High Five for the new year. The stories are a bit longer, and there are more of them, and the magazine also includes activities to do at home, as well as more complicated hidden pictures puzzles. Miss Muffet loves to flip through her "manganize" all "by self" and she even tries to follow along with the audio version, though it often moves to the next page before she is ready and she does not turn the page as directed. The hidden pictures are so far too difficult without a lot of help, but the stories and rhymes are just right. I look forward to watching her learn to master the new activities in the coming months!
Sunday, January 24, 2016
Reading Through History: Downright Dencey by Caroline Dale Snedeker (1927)
One day, while walking home from school, young Quaker girl Dionis "Dencey" Coffyn joins in with some of her schoolmates in throwing stones at a boy named Sam Jetsam, who is universally disliked by all the children on Nantucket because his mother, Injun Jill, is frequently drunk and might be a witch. When her stone hits Jetsam and draws blood, Dencey becomes immediately contrite, and begs the boy to forgive her. At first, he resists, even when Dencey visits him at his home and offers him gifts, but then he decides she can have his forgiveness if she will give him her copy of Pilgrim's Progress and teach him how to read it. Though Dencey will be in serious trouble with her own family if she is caught, she can't bear the thought of not being forgiven, so she agrees to this plan. Thus begins the friendship that will serve to convert Jetsam and rescue him from his squalid and abusive living arrangements.
Though I was skeptical at first when my husband recommended this book, it ended up being quite manageable and enjoyable. Though the friendship between Dencey and Jetsam is at the center of the story, there are many other intriguing plot points that kept me reading: the history behind Dencey's parents' marriage, the differences between Dencey's Quaker beliefs and those of her Congregationalist grandfather, the abuse of Jetsam by Injun Jill and the community's willingness to look the other way, the influence of the War of 1812 on children whose fathers were sailors, and the day-to-day routines of a Quaker household. Each of these threads provides valuable insight into a slice of history which most kids today probably will not encounter in their regular social studies lessons. The story also celebrates the good of religion, showing the ways in which patience and love toward a non-believer, or toward someone whose life has involved great pain, can slowly bring about conversion.
The language in this book is a bit rough in some places, especially by contemporary standards. There are racial epithets and other strong language, and Injun Jill's drunken tirades are not easy to swallow, especially knowing how badly she treats Jetsam. These are not flaws in the book, just illustrative details that help the reader understand the characters' motivations and actions, but it does make me think a reader ought to be over the age of 10 or so before attempting to tackle this book. The second part of the book regarding Dencey's parents' marriage, and Jetsam's and Dencey's own thoughts about possible marriage as they mature, also may not appeal to a younger child. I would probably not choose to read this book aloud, either. There is so much dialect that I could hear well enough in my head but would have no idea how to speak out loud and have it sound the way it is intended.
Downright Dencey reminds me a lot of Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, and I think reading the two books together and comparing them would make a great middle school language arts assignment. This book will also be of interest to anyone who has read Honey Bear by Dixie Willson, as the illustrations in both books are by Maginel Wright Barney. The pictures in Downright Dencey are limited to small black and white drawings at the start of each chapter and one full-color cover image, which is not necessarily what I expected when the cover said, "Illustrated by Maginel Wright Barney," but it was still worthwhile to check out this different style from Barney.
Though I was skeptical at first when my husband recommended this book, it ended up being quite manageable and enjoyable. Though the friendship between Dencey and Jetsam is at the center of the story, there are many other intriguing plot points that kept me reading: the history behind Dencey's parents' marriage, the differences between Dencey's Quaker beliefs and those of her Congregationalist grandfather, the abuse of Jetsam by Injun Jill and the community's willingness to look the other way, the influence of the War of 1812 on children whose fathers were sailors, and the day-to-day routines of a Quaker household. Each of these threads provides valuable insight into a slice of history which most kids today probably will not encounter in their regular social studies lessons. The story also celebrates the good of religion, showing the ways in which patience and love toward a non-believer, or toward someone whose life has involved great pain, can slowly bring about conversion.
The language in this book is a bit rough in some places, especially by contemporary standards. There are racial epithets and other strong language, and Injun Jill's drunken tirades are not easy to swallow, especially knowing how badly she treats Jetsam. These are not flaws in the book, just illustrative details that help the reader understand the characters' motivations and actions, but it does make me think a reader ought to be over the age of 10 or so before attempting to tackle this book. The second part of the book regarding Dencey's parents' marriage, and Jetsam's and Dencey's own thoughts about possible marriage as they mature, also may not appeal to a younger child. I would probably not choose to read this book aloud, either. There is so much dialect that I could hear well enough in my head but would have no idea how to speak out loud and have it sound the way it is intended.
Downright Dencey reminds me a lot of Lizzie Bright and the Buckminster Boy, and I think reading the two books together and comparing them would make a great middle school language arts assignment. This book will also be of interest to anyone who has read Honey Bear by Dixie Willson, as the illustrations in both books are by Maginel Wright Barney. The pictures in Downright Dencey are limited to small black and white drawings at the start of each chapter and one full-color cover image, which is not necessarily what I expected when the cover said, "Illustrated by Maginel Wright Barney," but it was still worthwhile to check out this different style from Barney.
Monday, January 18, 2016
Fumbling Through Fantasy: The Graveyard Book by Neil Gaiman (2008)
I tried to read this book the year after it won the Newbery, but being wary of ghost stories, I had a hard time getting into it. This time, I also didn't like the beginning of the story that much. It took me a couple of chapters to warm up to the characters and the concept. Early on, I kept telling my husband, "I get why the writing is good, but I don't think I like this book." But as Bod got older, things started to get more and more interesting, and I began to become invested in the question of what would become of Bod as an adult, and how he might ultimately come to terms with what happened to his parents.
What I also love about this book is the way it incorporates history. The ghosts in the graveyard come from many different time periods, so they speak, dress, and even teach differently, depending on their experiences as living people. Because they are ghosts, though, they also have a sense of the history of the graveyard itself, which becomes increasingly important to Bod as he considers his own place within it. I loved the way all of these people come together to create a society within the graveyard, and to protect Bod, whom they all love. I also love the storyline involving Scarlett, a little girl with whom Bod plays as a child, and with whom he reunites as a teen. I actually think I would have liked even more scenes with Scarlett, as that friendship - Bod's only relationship with someone from the outside world - is so compelling.
This book really is well-written, and it's different from a lot of other middle grade novels, in both style and subject matter. That said, it also made me question how much of what I have loved about books like the Harry Potter series and the Lord of the Rings trilogy are creative decisions made by their authors and how much are just tropes of the fantasy genre. Silas, for example, reminded me of Dumbledore and Gandalf, while Bod's desire for revenge on "the man Jack" mirrors Harry's relationship to Voldemort. It probably doesn't matter much, as these tropes are used differently in each story, but it makes me realize what I have missed out on by not reading fantasy as a kid, and continuing to avoid it as an adult.
The Graveyard Book is probably most appropriate for middle school readers, due to the violence which begins the story, and the sophistication of Gaiman's writing. There is also a graphic novel adaptation in two volumes, which would be an interesting companion to the novel, but only after enjoying the novel. Part of the fun of reading this book is imagining the characters for yourself, an experience you just can't have when an illustrator lays everything out visually. I also think it would be neat to pair this book with Spoon River Anthology, which is a set of fictional epitaphs for the dead residents of a small rural town, written in their own voices.
Sunday, January 17, 2016
Reading Through History: Veronica Ganz by Marilyn Sachs (1968)
Veronica Ganz is a horrible bully, and most of the kids in her school and neighborhood know better than to cross her. Only Peter Wedemeyer, a new kid who keeps teasing Veronica, is wily enough to outsmart her and avoid being beaten up. This makes Veronica terribly angry, and she begins to try setting traps to catch Peter, only to find the tables turned on her when she least expects it.
As I scanned through the reviews of this book on Goodreads, I noticed that a number of readers really wanted this to be a story to help kids deal with bullies, and to teach them how to behave properly. Interestingly, it is precisely because the book does not do this that I found it so enjoyable to read. This is not a story about how kids should behave; it’s a story about how they often do behave, told without politically correct apologies and Very Special Lessons. There are allusions to the fact that Veronica’s home life is not great. Her father is out of the picture, and her mother has been known to hit the kids when they misbehave. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to conclude that Veronica acts as she does at least in part because of her negative feelings toward her family, but this is not spelled out for the reader, nor is the reader lectured about kindness, tolerance, or diversity. It’s just a story, refreshingly unburdened by the contemporary notion that every book is poised to make or break the reader’s entire childhood by its portrayal of unpleasant happenings. There is no implication that Veronica is a role model; rather, she makes an interesting character because of her outrageously bad behavior.
Veronica Ganz was published in the 1960s, and is connected, at least by setting, to Marilyn Sachs’s novels about Laura and Amy. (I own some of these, and will review them eventually.) All of these stories are set in the 1940s, a fact which would not necessarily be apparent to contemporary readers, but which is interesting, especially given that the story focuses on a girl who beats up boys.
By today’s standards, this book might be seen as a terrible thing to recommend to a young girl, but I will certainly allow my daughters to read it when they reach the target age group, as it is well-written, different from many other stories at this level, and a great study in human behavior, both good and bad.
As I scanned through the reviews of this book on Goodreads, I noticed that a number of readers really wanted this to be a story to help kids deal with bullies, and to teach them how to behave properly. Interestingly, it is precisely because the book does not do this that I found it so enjoyable to read. This is not a story about how kids should behave; it’s a story about how they often do behave, told without politically correct apologies and Very Special Lessons. There are allusions to the fact that Veronica’s home life is not great. Her father is out of the picture, and her mother has been known to hit the kids when they misbehave. It wouldn’t be far-fetched to conclude that Veronica acts as she does at least in part because of her negative feelings toward her family, but this is not spelled out for the reader, nor is the reader lectured about kindness, tolerance, or diversity. It’s just a story, refreshingly unburdened by the contemporary notion that every book is poised to make or break the reader’s entire childhood by its portrayal of unpleasant happenings. There is no implication that Veronica is a role model; rather, she makes an interesting character because of her outrageously bad behavior.
Veronica Ganz was published in the 1960s, and is connected, at least by setting, to Marilyn Sachs’s novels about Laura and Amy. (I own some of these, and will review them eventually.) All of these stories are set in the 1940s, a fact which would not necessarily be apparent to contemporary readers, but which is interesting, especially given that the story focuses on a girl who beats up boys.
By today’s standards, this book might be seen as a terrible thing to recommend to a young girl, but I will certainly allow my daughters to read it when they reach the target age group, as it is well-written, different from many other stories at this level, and a great study in human behavior, both good and bad.
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