Oy vey. I must say, I've been much more focused on new summer clothes, fashion, fragrance, fine food, and finally, FINALLY having enough money to pay off my credit card (yay!) to think much about the world of books this month. I have still been reading up a storm, though, and that Secret Life review will be coming up quicker than you think (or than I planned). I've actually already finished the book. However, I'm making a point this time to read the appendices, as they diverge from the usual list format and are actually giving me more information about the author's sources, and consequently, about Marilyn.
Reading about a woman who is portrayed as never having truly grown up, and with summer fast approaching, I'm in the mood for light, dependable kids' books. The B/F and I often have rather emphatic debates about age-appropriate reading material: when is it time to bite the bullet and stop reading books written for a younger audience?
The B/F will tell you that as you grow up, it's time to move on to more and more grown-up subject matter. Like in phases, I guess. What bothers me is when he tells me you can't go back.
What are you talking about? Of course you can go back. I know the way well. Right back through all the bestsellers, chick lit, fiction, non-fiction, romance novels, fantasy/sci-fi, cookbooks, history, social science, and self-help, to land smack in the middle of the young adult section. Or maybe even the children's section. And sometimes even the infants' section! (Don't deny it. That bunny tail will always be so nice and soft to touch.)
Sure, depending on how far back you go, you might look just slightly ridiculous. But, when I browse those sections, I usually find that people think I'm there looking for a gift. No need to feel embarrassed. Sometimes you need simplicity in your head. I can't think of a better way to get there than to read a children's book. It's not like no one else is doing it.
So, obviously, my unshakable answer to The B/F's protests? Never. You are never too old for a kids' book. Look at the success of Twilight among adults -- or Diary of a Wimpy Kid. Heck, are you going to tell me you wouldn't sit down to read the first Captain Underpants from cover to cover if you had the chance?
Kids' books are great because they don't hide anything. You know exactly what you're getting. There is not much guessing, not much reading between the lines. This might sound backwards, or incredibly lazy, but every once in awhile, it's just so refreshing to have everything spelled out for you. It's like therapy.
The feeling of nostalgia I get when I re-read a FAVORITE kids' book is the BEST. Oh, there are so many. The Rough-Faced Girl. Ramona the Pest. The Pinballs. Henry and Mudge. Clifford the Big Red Dog. Clifford the Small Red Puppy. Charlotte's Web. The Stupids Die. Strega Nona. The Store-Bought Doll. Thundercake. The Baby-sitters Club. Spider Saves Easter. The Sweet Smell of Christmas. Oh, The Sweet Smell of Christmas. That book was amazing.
Last fall when we took a trip with my family down to our favorite beach vacation spot, The B.F. and I ventured into the local bookstore (I still have no idea what it's called, even though I've been inside it at least once during every trip of the 9+ years my family has vacationed there), and THERE IT WAS. An entire display of children's books, stacked with literally most of my favorites. I wanted to ask how much for the whole five shelves. The B.F. just stood, shuffling his feet, watching me melt, prodding me to leave them. But how could I? How could I leave Hats for Sale? And Frog and Toad? And Junie B. Jones and the Stupid Smelly Bus? And Babe the Gallant Pig (way better than the movie, btw)? And Stone Soup? Seriously, you want me to put down Stone Soup? With the same cover I remember from my childhood? I honest-to-goodness got teary-eyed when I could see that The B/F didn't understand my feelings for those books, when they didn't touch him in the way they touched me.
Sometimes I think I want to have children just so I can buy books for them, then steal them and read them for myself. Under the covers. With a flashlight. We'll put the hall light on and turn the TV up in the other room just for effect. When books can bring you to that special place, the one that makes you feel so good and safe, the one you thought was nearly gone, that's when you know they are worth reading. That's what kids' books do for me.
And that's not so bad, is it?
Showing posts with label Children's. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Children's. Show all posts
REVIEW: 'Little Women' by Louisa May Alcott
I must say, the second time around, I was much more involved. Lots of spoilers here, so look out!
Maybe it's because Mother's Day commercials are popping up more and more frequently, but I want to start by saying the copy of Little Women I read was given to me by my mother. I cherished reading it even more now that we've got a better relationship than we did when I was a teenager. My mom is not exactly comparable to Marmee (because she's a MODERN WOMAN!), but she is pretty freakin' great, and only now that I'm grown up can I see that clearly. *tear* (I know, sorry for the sappiness.)
In all sincerity, reading this book again was like looking back on my relationship with my mom. Now that I'm an adult, and I've gone through my own transformation, I can definitely appreciate the book that much more. I'll still say Part I was my favorite: the girls' innocent friendship with Laurie, and the vastness of their imaginations, kept a sweet smile on my face the whole way through. I didn't feel nostalgia, but again, there was appreciation there for the naivete of childhood dreams and growing life experiences. I never noticed before all the morals embedded into each chapter: I value more the morals in Part I, because they are the lessons we must learn to thrive as good human beings. In Part II, the lessons become more targeted -- they are the lessons 19th century America encouraged its women to learn. I'll admit that living in the 21st century caused the feminist in me to ruffle a little at some of the notions about being a "good woman." The title even brings out the wryness in me. But that's another story.
My affinities for the March sisters changed for me during this second, full reading, too. When I first read the book, I was about eleven years old, and my favorite character was Jo. At the time, I identified most with scrappy young girls who were pretty on the inside, whose best friends often became their lovers. I think that's part of the reason I became so disenchanted with the second half of the book -- I wanted nothing more than for Jo and Laurie to be married, like a Disney movie. As I read on this time, I became less and less enamored with her...her independence forced her into a lonely, spinster-like individual. It bothered me that she completely gave up her writing, and that by marrying, she redeems herself as a woman. Jo is an enigma, for she finds her calling as a caregiver (that shouldn't have surprised me, as we saw all the passion she put into looking after Beth), but to me, her generosity always seemed rather uncharacteristic, even sometimes self-serving (I imagined her saying, "What shall I do without...?"). Mostly I was disappointed. I so wanted her to move to New York, have a writing career and a family, too. And somehow, her Professor seemed all wrong...quite convenient, if you ask me.
This time around, I more identified with Amy. I can reflect back on myself as a little girl, and realize that she is the one I was probably most like: a desire for popularity and beauty, a wish to be good and unselfish, and a drive to be educated and rich. Amy is also the one I most admire in the book now, for she overcomes her childhood trivialities and grows into a charming, collected, rational woman. She also gets to marry Laurie, and I do approve of the match there...although I believe that if Jo had only loved Laurie from the beginning, she would not have been so hard for me to identify with...although I don't believe that Laurie would have turned out as well as he did if that had happened. What a pickle.
Beth I will never identify with. Only the good die young, I guess. Still trying to figure that one out. Thoughts?
Oh, there is so much about this book I could ramble on and on about...but I think I'll leave the rest of the discussion for the comments. I did thoroughly enjoy the story, and this copy is getting a very privileged place on my shelf.
How's a tagline for a closer? "Little Women. Better than the Vampire Diaries by a million."
NEXT UP: The Secret Life of Marilyn Monroe, by J. Randy Taraborrelli. I hope to have this hefty hardcover biography finished by June 1...Ms. Monroe's 84th birthday.
Share Stuff Saturday: Texas Textbooks
(Title links to a NYT article about the new standards of education in Texas. I am opening this one up for discussion. I am appalled, but what say you?)
Global Literacy -- I'll Drink to That
Ah, February! Valentine's Day, Library Lovers' Month, Black History Month, Condom Week???, Groundhog Day, Chinese New Year, Presidents' Day, Mardi Gras and Ash Wednesday, Daytona 500...there is a lot to celebrate this month. Today I wanted to celebrate something else: my literacy.
I was lucky enough as a kid to have educated parents who cared enough about my education to teach me to read. It seems so standard now in 2010. It's bizarre to even imagine kids out there who don't recognize D-O-G. Or L-O-V-E.
I love language, and I loved reading even before I could muster enough brainpower to sound out the words on the pages. I don't know where I would be without words, and the power of literacy.
I do really cherish it as power. And I believe it is a human right. We all deserve to know what thoughts are being communicated in our societies and in our cultures, and we deserve a chance to enter the conversation ourselves. Reading and writing get us there. When I was younger, I was always so enthralled by the stories of Southern whites teaching Black slaves to read -- the fictional account of Bethlehem and Susannah in Jennifer Armstrong's Steal Away particularly made an impression on me. It shook me to realize someone could actually (in my child's mind) get in trouble for teaching someone how to spell cat. And that someone else could get in trouble for learning. My parents always put such a high value on education. Knowing what some people went through just to learn how to read kept me from taking my own literacy for granted. Those stories helped me understand the importance of literacy, and they fully expanded my idea of true freedom. Freedom really was knowledge. Power, and empowerment, really could be found in education.
This is why I wanted to share with you a new initiative to expand literacy for children across the world. Room to Read, Crushpad, and Twitter have all joined up to create The Fledgling Initiative, a campaign for positive change in the lives of children all over the globe. Room to Read, a global nonprofit, is an organization that has to date "established more than 700 schools and over 7,000 bilingual libraries with five million books, and supports the education of nearly 7,000 girls. Room to Read’s programs have already reached more than three million children..."
Twitter, of course, is one of the Web's leaders in social networking/microblogging. By teaming up with Crushpad, a DIY winery in San Fran, Twitter has created and branded its own label (Fledgling wines), which will be sold to benefit Room to Read. And, because it's Twitter, The Fledgling Initiative now has one of the best venues in communication to help spread the word. Follow @Fledgling to stay up to date on Twitter's wine-making. There will even be times where you can participate in the creation.
Crushpad, based in San Francisco, is a winery that specializes in consumer customization. For The Fledgling Initiative, they've helped Twitter come up with two limited edition wines (a Pinot Noir and a Chardonnay). For every bottle sold, $5 will be donated to Room to Read. Buying a whole case is equal to providing 60 local-language books to the children who need them most.
For more information on this amazing effort, check out this article and video at ServiceNation.org. Or, head straight to the source: visit http://www.twitter.com/fledgling, http://www.fledglingwine.com, or http://www.roomtoread.org.
I'm not really a wine-o, but this kind of thing I can get behind. I can't wait to get my wine. Finally, drinking to help the kids.
I was lucky enough as a kid to have educated parents who cared enough about my education to teach me to read. It seems so standard now in 2010. It's bizarre to even imagine kids out there who don't recognize D-O-G. Or L-O-V-E.
I love language, and I loved reading even before I could muster enough brainpower to sound out the words on the pages. I don't know where I would be without words, and the power of literacy.
I do really cherish it as power. And I believe it is a human right. We all deserve to know what thoughts are being communicated in our societies and in our cultures, and we deserve a chance to enter the conversation ourselves. Reading and writing get us there. When I was younger, I was always so enthralled by the stories of Southern whites teaching Black slaves to read -- the fictional account of Bethlehem and Susannah in Jennifer Armstrong's Steal Away particularly made an impression on me. It shook me to realize someone could actually (in my child's mind) get in trouble for teaching someone how to spell cat. And that someone else could get in trouble for learning. My parents always put such a high value on education. Knowing what some people went through just to learn how to read kept me from taking my own literacy for granted. Those stories helped me understand the importance of literacy, and they fully expanded my idea of true freedom. Freedom really was knowledge. Power, and empowerment, really could be found in education.
This is why I wanted to share with you a new initiative to expand literacy for children across the world. Room to Read, Crushpad, and Twitter have all joined up to create The Fledgling Initiative, a campaign for positive change in the lives of children all over the globe. Room to Read, a global nonprofit, is an organization that has to date "established more than 700 schools and over 7,000 bilingual libraries with five million books, and supports the education of nearly 7,000 girls. Room to Read’s programs have already reached more than three million children..."
Twitter, of course, is one of the Web's leaders in social networking/microblogging. By teaming up with Crushpad, a DIY winery in San Fran, Twitter has created and branded its own label (Fledgling wines), which will be sold to benefit Room to Read. And, because it's Twitter, The Fledgling Initiative now has one of the best venues in communication to help spread the word. Follow @Fledgling to stay up to date on Twitter's wine-making. There will even be times where you can participate in the creation.
Crushpad, based in San Francisco, is a winery that specializes in consumer customization. For The Fledgling Initiative, they've helped Twitter come up with two limited edition wines (a Pinot Noir and a Chardonnay). For every bottle sold, $5 will be donated to Room to Read. Buying a whole case is equal to providing 60 local-language books to the children who need them most.
For more information on this amazing effort, check out this article and video at ServiceNation.org. Or, head straight to the source: visit http://www.twitter.com/fledgling, http://www.fledglingwine.com, or http://www.roomtoread.org.
I'm not really a wine-o, but this kind of thing I can get behind. I can't wait to get my wine. Finally, drinking to help the kids.
Share Stuff Saturday: They Banned the Dictionary
(And I thought California was the "liberal" state. This Share Stuff Saturday is in part thanks to Five Star Friday! Title links to a meaningful blog post by Great Big Nerd, which was featured in this week's edition.)
REVIEW: 'The Dread Crew: Pirates of the Backwoods' by Kate Inglis
Sorry I'm late, everyone.
Charming. Fresh. Enticing. Original. Slug-smackin' good time.
When my copy of The Dread Crew: Pirates of the Backwoods by Kate Inglis finally arrived, I put down Jane Eyre and delved into this new treat immediately. I have to say: this is a marvelous first novel. I have commenced picketing for the movie.
She really did a phenomenal job setting the tone of the book with the diction, and from the very first line of the prologue. I loved how each character, from Missy to Joe to Willie to Hector, all had their own spin on the quaint language of New Germany. So entertaining, just how you'd want pirates to talk -- not expect them to -- want them to talk.
In fact, what I did expect was more elusiveness on the part of the pirates. The back of the book hints at Eric's story, tracking them through the woods, using clues they've dropped from their Barrow along the way. But in fact, you get to know the pirates (and Grandpa Joe) much more intimately than you ever do Eric. And these pirates, elusive? Getting the Stewarts' peacocks and goats to get along would be an easier task. But that is what makes this book a pleasure. "Honey lessons." So perfect.
What I loved most about this book was its accessibility. It was so hard to pin down an age group for it, which in the end, who cares? That means it's great for any age, and I think that's going to lend to its success. Children, adults, and tweens can all enjoy it. I imagined my mom reading it to me when I was little. The excitment in the storyline, plus the well-developed plot, plus its length (not too short, not too long!) will also make it a great re-read for me as an adult -- something I can read while I eat a bowl of soup, or vacation, or just plain need a break from real life.
I hope there will be a sequel, but this book stands on its own. Congratulations, Kate, and thanks again for sharing the launch of your tremendous accomplishment with me.
Next Up: Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte (for real this time)
Charming. Fresh. Enticing. Original. Slug-smackin' good time.
When my copy of The Dread Crew: Pirates of the Backwoods by Kate Inglis finally arrived, I put down Jane Eyre and delved into this new treat immediately. I have to say: this is a marvelous first novel. I have commenced picketing for the movie.
She really did a phenomenal job setting the tone of the book with the diction, and from the very first line of the prologue. I loved how each character, from Missy to Joe to Willie to Hector, all had their own spin on the quaint language of New Germany. So entertaining, just how you'd want pirates to talk -- not expect them to -- want them to talk.
In fact, what I did expect was more elusiveness on the part of the pirates. The back of the book hints at Eric's story, tracking them through the woods, using clues they've dropped from their Barrow along the way. But in fact, you get to know the pirates (and Grandpa Joe) much more intimately than you ever do Eric. And these pirates, elusive? Getting the Stewarts' peacocks and goats to get along would be an easier task. But that is what makes this book a pleasure. "Honey lessons." So perfect.
What I loved most about this book was its accessibility. It was so hard to pin down an age group for it, which in the end, who cares? That means it's great for any age, and I think that's going to lend to its success. Children, adults, and tweens can all enjoy it. I imagined my mom reading it to me when I was little. The excitment in the storyline, plus the well-developed plot, plus its length (not too short, not too long!) will also make it a great re-read for me as an adult -- something I can read while I eat a bowl of soup, or vacation, or just plain need a break from real life.
I hope there will be a sequel, but this book stands on its own. Congratulations, Kate, and thanks again for sharing the launch of your tremendous accomplishment with me.
Next Up: Jane Eyre, by Charlotte Bronte (for real this time)
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