Delphine and Marinette live on a farm in France with their stern mother and father and a menagerie of talking animals. In seven chapters, the two sisters have many adventures with their own farm animals as well as those who live in the neighboring forest and pond. These include being fooled by a sly fox, bringing a wild boar to school, accidentally turning a hen into an elephant, and being held prisoner by swans who mistake them for orphans.
This book was initially appealing to me because it is the first children's book Maurice Sendak ever illustrated. It was so interesting to me to see hints of his future work to come in the figures he drew for this book. I was reminded in particular of his artwork for the Little Bear series, as well as the way the children move in his pictures for The Moon Jumpers. The illustrations are wonderful, and I truly enjoyed them.
The text, though, is a most worthy companion to Sendak's charming illustrations. I read the book aloud to my older two girls (ages 2 and 4) and immediately took a liking to the dialogue, which lends itself so well to performance. (And to character voices, if you're that kind of reader. I'm not, generally, but I tried a few in a couple of chapters and it was fun.) The text is translated from French, but it does not seem to have lost anything in translation to English. The book had a unique flavor to it that made it stand out from other animal books we have read, and it really engaged me and my four-year-old. (The two-year-old did her best to listen, but the chapters are lengthy and she was not my intended audience.)
Speaking of animals, they are used supremely well in this story. A note at the start of the book states that even though the animals may speak, they still behave like animals, and this is absolutely true. Animals in this book are treated as the subjects of humans, and they are put to work, hunted, killed, eaten, lost, etc. The animals are not bitter about this; rather, they seem to understand their role in the natural order. While there is something to be said for books like Charlotte's Web, where animals are saved from their natural fate, there is also something very refreshing about a book that neither humanizes nor romanticizes the animal kingdom. I also liked the book's matter-of-fact handling of death scenes. Some of them are sad, but none of them manipulate the reader into mourning an animal as though it has the same value as a human being.
Each chapter of this book can essentially stand on its own, and each one is a fable of sorts, kind of like a cross between Aesop and Winnie-the-Pooh. The stories can be enjoyed on their surface, but they also have a deeper significance that comes through for older readers even as young children enjoy them only at face value. My four-year-old and I had a wonderful discussion about "tricky people" after reading the chapter about the fox, but there was much more to the fox's trickery that she wouldn't be able to grasp until she is older. I love that the book works on multiple levels and that it will reward children who choose to read it multiple times as they age through childhood.
I am not generally an animal person, and I tend to hate talking animal books. But this lovely gem of a book is a major exception. Beautifully written and by turns poignant and humorous, this is a new favorite, and I will cherish my copy and eagerly read it aloud again in a few years when my littlest ones are ready to appreciate it.
Thursday, March 8, 2018
Wednesday, March 7, 2018
Book Review: The Toothpaste Millionaire by Jean Merrill (1972)
Upset by the high cost of toothpaste, Rufus Mayflower, an enterprising sixth grader, decides to start making his own. Once consumers realize he is able to make a gallon of his homemade toothpaste for the cost of a single tube at the supermarket, business really takes off. As the demand for Rufus's toothpaste increases, he encounters a number of challenges, all of which he is able to solve with perseverance and ingenuity. The story is narrated by Rufus's friend, Kate, who, along with her classmates, solves math problems based on the growth of Rufus's business, modeling for readers how to calculate Rufus's costs, profits, etc.
This book is certainly a gift to anyone trying to teach a reluctant math learner. It shows exactly how math is used in practical ways in everyday business dealings, and it makes the math appealing by surrounding it with a compelling story. It also teaches kids how businesses are formed and how they run without bogging them down in a lot of details that sound boring or tedious.
But while this is one of the appealing aspects of the book, it's not the only one. This is not just a 90-page math problem. Rather, it is an engaging story, told by a believable and relatable narrator, Kate, who helps the reader develop feelings of awe and respect for Rufus and his capabilities. Because Kate does not have Rufus's knack for running a business, she has many of the same questions the reader might ask, and she is able to act as a bridge between Rufus's genius and the reader's own lack of sophistication. The story as a whole also empowers kids to think of themselves as innovators and creators and debunks the idea that only adults can make a difference.
Newer books have told stories with similar premises (Lawn Boy by Gary Paulsen, Frindle by Andrew Clements, The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies, etc.) but The Toothpaste Millionaire told it first and best, in my opinion. Another similar book, Henry Reed, Inc. (1958) by Keith Robertson, would also make a great read-alike for this book, but even Henry's research company in that story doesn't result in earning a million dollars! The Toothpaste Millionaire would make a great read-aloud for a wide range of ages; readers well beyond the age range of the intended middle grade audience can also get something out of it. I'll definitely be reading this book again with my kids in a few years!
This book is certainly a gift to anyone trying to teach a reluctant math learner. It shows exactly how math is used in practical ways in everyday business dealings, and it makes the math appealing by surrounding it with a compelling story. It also teaches kids how businesses are formed and how they run without bogging them down in a lot of details that sound boring or tedious.
But while this is one of the appealing aspects of the book, it's not the only one. This is not just a 90-page math problem. Rather, it is an engaging story, told by a believable and relatable narrator, Kate, who helps the reader develop feelings of awe and respect for Rufus and his capabilities. Because Kate does not have Rufus's knack for running a business, she has many of the same questions the reader might ask, and she is able to act as a bridge between Rufus's genius and the reader's own lack of sophistication. The story as a whole also empowers kids to think of themselves as innovators and creators and debunks the idea that only adults can make a difference.
Newer books have told stories with similar premises (Lawn Boy by Gary Paulsen, Frindle by Andrew Clements, The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies, etc.) but The Toothpaste Millionaire told it first and best, in my opinion. Another similar book, Henry Reed, Inc. (1958) by Keith Robertson, would also make a great read-alike for this book, but even Henry's research company in that story doesn't result in earning a million dollars! The Toothpaste Millionaire would make a great read-aloud for a wide range of ages; readers well beyond the age range of the intended middle grade audience can also get something out of it. I'll definitely be reading this book again with my kids in a few years!
Tuesday, March 6, 2018
Some of My Favorite Quotes from Books
Today's Top Ten Tuesday topic is Favorite Book Quotes. I used to collect quotes avidly, filling notebooks with every saying I stumbled upon that resonated with me in any way. These days, I'm not as organized about it, but I do occasionally add quotes to Goodreads so I can look back on them later. The quotations in today's post are taken from my old notebooks, lines I mentioned in reviews on this blog, and my collection of quotes on Goodreads. All are from works I have read at some point, with the exception of the Edna St. Vincent Millay collection, from which I have only read selections.
Monday, March 5, 2018
The RAHM Report for 3/5/18
What My Kids Are Reading
This week's Read-at-Home Kids Report highlights what we read to celebrate Dr. Seuss's birthday, the books my two-year-old selected at a used book sale, and my four-year-old's newest independent read.
What I Finished Reading
- Carbs & Cadavers by Ellery Adams (ARC)
I've been curious about this series for a while, and I'm generally a fan of the author, so when I saw it was being re-released and that an ARC was available on NetGalley, I put in a request. It was a little bit too food-focused for my taste, but still a solid mystery. My review is on Goodreads. - I Know What You Bid Last Summer by Sherry Harris (ARC)
This is the fifth book of a series, but the first one I've read. I loved the main character, the setting, and the writing and will definitely be looking for the rest of the series. I reviewed this one on Goodreads, too.
- Cody and the Heart of a Champion by Tricia Springstubb, illustrated by Eliza Wheeler (ARC)
This series is consistently great. As usual, Springstubb demonstrates a strong understanding of the concerns of real kids. Review coming soon here on the blog. - Zucchini by Barbara Dana
Reading this was an interesting experience. At times, I thought it was great, and at others, I couldn't wait to be finished. I'll have a review on the blog eventually - probably in May. - P.S. I Miss You by Jen Petro-Roy (ARC)
I was not going to read this since the subject matter (same-sex attraction) isn't something my Catholic family seeks out and I have too many books on my TBR already, but then I heard that Catholicism was actually a central part of the story and I gave in to my curiosity. Unfortunately, the book is fraught with inaccuracies and horrible stereotypes about the faith. Why the emphasis on accurately portraying other people's cultures does not extend to religion I don't know, but I would really not want my kids' non-Catholic friends to get their ideas about our church from this book. I'll have a more detailed review soon, hopefully this week. - Tarot Says Beware by Betsy Byars
Another read for the Author Love challenge. This book was actually pretty scary and would have kept me up all night as a child. I am still planning to review the whole series after I finish
What I'm Currently Reading
- The Little Oratory by David Clayton and Leila Marie Lawler
I'm reading this slowly because I want to learn from it and be able to talk about it intelligently at book club. I like it, though some of the things that frustrate me about Leila Lawler's blog also create frustration for me in this book. Overall, though, this is a great resource for introducing more prayer into the Catholic home. - All Things Bright and Beautiful by James Herriot
I made some progress on this book this week. It's just so delightful. I am especially enjoying the reflections back to the disastrous dates he had with his wife before they became a couple. - Fatal Frost by Karen MacInerney
This book has taken a backseat to the cozy mysteries for which I have ARCs, but I will come back around to it soon. - Fit to Die by Ellery Adams (ARC)
Right after I reviewed the first Supper Club book, this second one popped up on NetGalley and I could not resist. I plan to make it a priority this week since the ARC expires on the 13th. - Southern Discomfort by Caroline Fardig (ARC)
I have an ARC of this book, which comes out tomorrow. While I don't think I'll get it read by then, I'll definitely make an effort to read and review it by the beginning of next week. - The Perilous Gard by Elizabeth Marie Pope
I read the first chapter of this book in the middle of the week and haven't had a chance to get back to it yet. I've been reading a lot of short paperbacks from the 1980s, so I decided I needed a kids' book with a little bit of meat to it. So far, it's good. - Until Tomorrow, Mr. Marsworth by Sheila O'Connor (ARC)
I received an ARC of this in the mail over the weekend. I'm excited because it's been compared to The Wednesday Wars, which is one of my favorite middle grade novels of all time. I only briefly looked at a couple of pages, but I'm hoping to get through the whole thing this week if I can.
Sunday, March 4, 2018
The RAHK Report for 3/4/18
Here are the books the Read-at-Home Kids enjoyed this past week:
- Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle by Betty MacDonald, illustrated by Hilary Knight
This is our new lunchtime read-aloud. The girls have previously heard the audiobook but they were little enough that they don't remember it. As is typical of our lunchtime read-alouds, Miss Muffet (4 years, 3 months) is enjoying this book more than Bo Peep (2 years, 5 months), so I try to make sure Bo Peep gets other stories read to her throughout the day. - James Herriot's Treasury for ChildrenI have read two stories to the girls from this book so far: Moses the Kitten and Only One Woof. Though Miss Muffet enjoys the stories, it is Bo Peep who has been enamored of the illustrations. She likes to take the book from me when I'm finished reading and go off alone to look at the pictures. This has required me to remove the book's surprisingly delicate jacket, but otherwise she has been very gentle to this book.
- McElligot's Pool by Dr. Seuss
On Friday, my husband stayed home due to the heavy winds. I suggested reading a Seuss book to celebrate Dr. Seuss's birthday, and he read McElligot's pool aloud, mostly to Miss Muffet. She was thrilled with it and when the story was over, she turned to me and said, "Dr. Seuss was silly silly silly!"
- Drawn from Nature by Helen Ahpornsiri
I received a review copy of this beautifully illustrated nonfiction book from Candlewick and read it aloud to Miss Muffet over four days. I will review the book in its own post, but I wanted to mention here how much Miss Muffet enjoyed the artwork, which is made entirely from pieces of plants. The content was similar to Nature's Day by Kay Maguire, but it felt more accessible and better organized. - Adventures in Science: The Human Body by Courtney Acampora
This is an educational kit of which I received a review copy from Silver Dolphin books. It includes a book about the organs and systems of the human body, as well as a plastic model of a skeleton, a poster where kids can add stickers showing where the bones and organs go, and a deck of fact cards. Miss Muffet and I started out reading through the book, but after a few days, her brain went on information overload and we ended up just focusing our attention on the interactive elements. I'll be reviewing the set in its own post soon. - Mary Wore Her Red Dress and Henry Wore His Green Sneakers by Merle Peek
This book was hanging around when I was playing with Jumping Joan (4.5 months) one day this week, so I decided to just sing it to her, even though it isn't typically a book I'd think of sharing with a a baby. I was pleasantly surprised by how much she looked at the pictures and how her face lit up at the sound of my voice.
- Click Clack Moo: Cows That Type by Doreen Cronin, illustrated by Betsy Lewin
We went to a book sale yesterday, and Bo Peep immediately found this book and said, "Look! It's Click Clack Moo!" We didn't actually own this book, despite our regular viewing of the Weston Woods video based on it, so we brought it home. Bo Peep was thrilled to have chosen a winner! - Let's Play by Gyo Fujikawa
At the same sale, I spied this board book on a table and decided to also get it for Bo Peep, since she is such a Fujikawa fan and our copy of Oh What a Busy Day is getting a little fragile for her to handle unsupervised. She held it in the car on the way home and has looked at it several times since, and also showed it to Jumping Joan. - Are You My Mother? by P.D. Eastman
Another book sale find, this was Miss Muffet's after-nap independent read yesterday. She really enjoyed the story and gave us a nice summary at the dinner table. I've heard her talking about "the snort" several times today.
Friday, March 2, 2018
How to Appreciate Flannery O'Connor: 7 Tips for Catholic Readers
When I was a senior in high school, I opted out of taking AP English and instead took a course on short stories. I was assigned many stories to read during that semester, including "Good Country People" by Flannery O'Connor. My father had spoken to me of Flannery O'Connor many times during my teen years, citing her faithfulness as a Catholic and her talent as a writer as reasons I might admire her. When I read this story, though, the thing that struck me the most was how completely funny it was. In that story, O'Connor demonstrates a deep understanding of the annoying quirks of small-town people and the way in which sour know-it-alls can sometimes receive their comeuppance simply as a result of their own behavior. I was a cynical seventeen-year-old, and the surprise humor of the story's twist ending really resonated with me.
Four years later, I was a reluctant English major at the end of my college career seeking a thesis topic. I read a few articles suggesting that it was perfectly possible - and indeed, even preferable - to read Flannery O'Connor without any regard for her faith. I was so irritated by this argument that it became the focus of my thesis. I read one of O'Connor's novels, Wise Blood, as well as several O'Connor short stories, and analyzed them to prove how central the Catholic faith was to O'Connor's writing, and how foolish it would be to view her work through any other lens. I was a terrible English major, completely opposed to literary analysis of any kind and frequently annoyed by my inability to see symbolism and other literary devices where others found them quite easily. But because of my own Catholic beliefs, I was able to see things in O'Connor's work that I couldn't see in other works, and I wrote the only academic piece of my college career that I enjoyed writing and that I thought was any good.
There are still many Flannery O'Connor stories I have never read, and there is much about her life I don't know, so I'm far from an expert, but I am enough of a fan that I feel qualified to make a case for reading her work. I know a lot of people find her difficult to stomach, or to understand, but I hate to see potential readers give up on her without finding something to appreciate in her sense of humor, her worldview, and her staunch Catholic faith. So, in the interest of helping O'Connor to find more fans, here are my seven tips for appreciating her work.
Four years later, I was a reluctant English major at the end of my college career seeking a thesis topic. I read a few articles suggesting that it was perfectly possible - and indeed, even preferable - to read Flannery O'Connor without any regard for her faith. I was so irritated by this argument that it became the focus of my thesis. I read one of O'Connor's novels, Wise Blood, as well as several O'Connor short stories, and analyzed them to prove how central the Catholic faith was to O'Connor's writing, and how foolish it would be to view her work through any other lens. I was a terrible English major, completely opposed to literary analysis of any kind and frequently annoyed by my inability to see symbolism and other literary devices where others found them quite easily. But because of my own Catholic beliefs, I was able to see things in O'Connor's work that I couldn't see in other works, and I wrote the only academic piece of my college career that I enjoyed writing and that I thought was any good.
There are still many Flannery O'Connor stories I have never read, and there is much about her life I don't know, so I'm far from an expert, but I am enough of a fan that I feel qualified to make a case for reading her work. I know a lot of people find her difficult to stomach, or to understand, but I hate to see potential readers give up on her without finding something to appreciate in her sense of humor, her worldview, and her staunch Catholic faith. So, in the interest of helping O'Connor to find more fans, here are my seven tips for appreciating her work.
Don't try too hard to understand everything.
I think the biggest favor you can do for yourself when you first start reading O'Connor is to not read too much into anything. Most Catholics know that O'Connor was a faithful Catholic and that her stories are meant to reflect this worldview, and I think some have a tendency to scour every story looking for a straightforward moral or lesson. O'Connor's writing, however, is more nuanced than that. Her stories have a definite worldview founded in her own morality, but it is often subtle, couched in an entertaining story about the flaws of human nature. If you try to make sense of every word and seek to find the symbolism behind every character, event, and bit of dialogue, you will make yourself crazy, and you will completely miss the forest for the trees.Don't expect to find perfect allegories.
It's also a mistake to expect a Flannery O'Connor story to be a perfect allegory of any Biblical event or Catholic tradition. There are allusions to the Bible in many of her stories, but none so elaborate that they consume the whole work. Her stories hint at Biblical truth, and they have a Catholic point of view, but often nothing in the story is explicitly Biblical or Catholic, and seeking that kind of one-to-one correlation where everything in the story represents something else is an exercise in futility.Sympathize with O'Connor, not with her characters.
O'Connor's stories are unusual in that you're not really meant to get inside her characters' heads and get to know them. Rather, your sympathy is meant to lie with the author and her point of view, and observing her characters' behavior is how you gain insight into what that point of view is. Each story is a meditation on bad human behavior, often perpetrated by people you would never want to spend time with in real life. They are not likable, and you're not meant to like them. Instead, they are meant to illustrate for you what O'Connor recognizes as the non-Catholic world's ills and the consequences of those problems. In these stories, you are very much laughing at these characters, not with them.Look for moments of grace.
Flannery O'Connor once wrote, "All my stories are about the action of grace on a character who is not very willing to support it, but most people think of these stories as hard, hopeless and brutal." It is true that there are a lot of disturbing, violent, and unsettling moments in O'Connor's works, and without the proper context, they can seem gratuitous. But O'Connor points out: "I have found that violence is strangely capable of returning my characters to reality and preparing them to accept their moment of grace. Their heads are so hard that almost nothing else will work." These "moments of grace" that O'Connor gives to her characters are only as violent and disturbing as her characters are stubborn. And once you begin to look for the moment at which each of her characters loses everything and therefore must turn to the truth because it's all that's left, her work begins to make more sense. (Catholic Education Resource Center has a great piece about "mean" grace in O'Connor's work that is worth a read.)Don't read one work in isolation.
O'Connor's work also makes more sense the more you read of it. One story on its own is only a small piece in the puzzle of the larger worldview O'Connor puts forth in her entire body of work. Read in collections, or even just in pairs, these stories begin to help each other make sense. If you've only read one Flannery O'Connor story and you didn't like it, it might be that you haven't had a sufficient taste of her writing to understand what it's all about. There are also some stories that are less straightforward than others and disliking one doesn't mean you will dislike them all.
Consider O'Connor's intended audience.
Another thing to keep in mind is that Flannery O'Connor was not really writing stories for the sole enjoyment of Catholics. Rather, she was primarily writing stories for an American South that she saw as enemy-occupied territory, filled with people who didn't really know Jesus Christ, and who often rejected the truths of Christianity for their own convenience. Her writing was an odd form of evangelization, filled with grotesque characters whose experiences were exaggerated in order to make unsympathetic readers understand the error of their ways. She used dark Southern gothic humor to tell her stories because she knew her audience would understand it, and that if she spoke to them in terms they understood, they might be more likely to listen to her message.Read some of O'Connor's essays and letters.
Finally, if nothing else, I recommend reading O'Connor's other writings, published in The Habit of Being: Letters of Flannery O'Connor and Mystery and Manners: Occasional Prose, as well as in her Collected Works. Even if you have read none of her fiction, the Catholic reader can still find much to latch onto in her writings about being a Catholic writer in the Protestant south. I also find that once you get to know O'Connor as a person in her essays, speeches, and letters, you are better prepared to make sense of her fiction. And even if you don't come to appreciate her fiction, you can still gain an understanding of why so many Catholics feel a kinship to her.Are you a Flannery O'Connor fan? What advice do you have for readers who struggle with her work?
I'm linking up today with Kelly at This Ain't the Lyceum for Seven Quick Takes.
Thursday, March 1, 2018
Book Review: The Cartoonist by Betsy Byars (1978)
Alfie's family home is very small and tilting to one side. His father has died, and his older brother has moved away. His mother and grandfather do the best they can, but there is very little Alfie can call his own, except for the attic. In the attic, Alfie can escape from the unhappy moments of his life by doing what he loves most: drawing cartoons. When Alfie's brother and his newly pregnant wife announce that they are coming back home to live with the family, his mother announces that she will be giving them the attic. Alfie, unable to face the loss of his private art studio, locks himself in the attic, refusing to leave until it is restored to him.
Betsy Byars writes some of the most believable - and honest - realistic fiction available for kids. This book is not about a happy child, but it is about a child many readers can relate to, even if their own situations vary a bit from his. Byars makes her readers really feel Alfie's indignation over his mother's clear favoring of his older brother, and hints about Alfie's dad's death and his grandfather's longing for the past help paint a perfect portrait of this family's particular dysfunctions and difficulties.
As is the case with many Byars books, this one ends on a note that feels a little bit unresolved. There is a resolution to Alfie's problem of losing the attic, but there is also a sense of defeat and an understanding that Alfie's life, even if he continues escaping into his cartoons, is not going to get any easier any time soon. At least one Goodreads reviewer seems to think this somewhat messy ending means the book is "horribly depressing" and has "no redeeming value," but I disagree. This story simply reflects the way things are sometimes, and, because its author is ever-respectful of the intelligence of young readers, she doesn't interpret the ending or use it as an opportunity to preach a moral. Rather, the interpretation of her message is left for readers to ponder themselves, and I'm sure there are as many impressions of the ending of this book as there are kids who have read it.
The Cartoonist was a quick, but deep read. Though it is short, I'd recommend it to kids in the upper elementary and middle school grades, as they are most likely to understand Alfie's longing for a place of his own and his nostalgia for a past life lost.
Betsy Byars writes some of the most believable - and honest - realistic fiction available for kids. This book is not about a happy child, but it is about a child many readers can relate to, even if their own situations vary a bit from his. Byars makes her readers really feel Alfie's indignation over his mother's clear favoring of his older brother, and hints about Alfie's dad's death and his grandfather's longing for the past help paint a perfect portrait of this family's particular dysfunctions and difficulties.
As is the case with many Byars books, this one ends on a note that feels a little bit unresolved. There is a resolution to Alfie's problem of losing the attic, but there is also a sense of defeat and an understanding that Alfie's life, even if he continues escaping into his cartoons, is not going to get any easier any time soon. At least one Goodreads reviewer seems to think this somewhat messy ending means the book is "horribly depressing" and has "no redeeming value," but I disagree. This story simply reflects the way things are sometimes, and, because its author is ever-respectful of the intelligence of young readers, she doesn't interpret the ending or use it as an opportunity to preach a moral. Rather, the interpretation of her message is left for readers to ponder themselves, and I'm sure there are as many impressions of the ending of this book as there are kids who have read it.
The Cartoonist was a quick, but deep read. Though it is short, I'd recommend it to kids in the upper elementary and middle school grades, as they are most likely to understand Alfie's longing for a place of his own and his nostalgia for a past life lost.
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