Archive | December 2007

A Highland Christmas by M.C. Beaton

Dec23

Earlier this year I read M.C. Beaton’s latest Hamish Macbeth mystery, book number 23 in the series, Death of a Maid. It was the first book in the series that I’d read, and although I enjoyed it, I never got around to reviewing it here. What I remember about it now was the denouement which involved large mobs of people in a comic stand-off with the government and Hamish Macbeth, a policeman in a small Scottish village, having to navigate his way between the villagers and the forces of officialdom.

At the beginning of December when I wrote about Rex Stout’s birthday and gave a list of Christmas-themed mysteries, Cindy of Dominion Family suggested Ms. Beaton’s Christmas story also featuring Policeman Macbeth. It’s short (129 pages), sweet, and perfect for a gentle holiday read. No one dies, a nice change from the book I read just previous to this one in which scores of people die in a particularly nasty mass murder. All we have here is a lost cat, a little girl who has never been allowed to celebrate Christmas, and a Christmas concert at the old folks’ home. Oh, and Hamish Macbeth stumbles into and out of a sort of a dating relationship, which seems to be his wont as far as I can tell from the two books featuring this detective that I’ve read.

I think I’ll pick up another Hamish Macbeth novel from time to time and immerse myself in a gently droll picture of a Scots highland village with a bit of mystery to stir the pot. (However, the others do have “death” in the title and are in that way more traditional murder mysteries.)

First paragraphs of A Highland Christmas by M.C. Beaton:

More and more people each year are going abroad for Christmas. To celebrate the season of goodwill towards men, British Airways slams an extra one hundred and four pounds on each air ticket. But the airports are still jammed.

For so many people are fleeing Christmas. . . .

But in Lochdubh, in Sutherland, in the very far north of Scotland, there is nothing to flee from. Christmas, thought Hamish Macbeth gloomily, as he walked along the waterfront, his shoulders hunched against a tearing wind, was not coming to Lochdubh this year any more than it had come the previous years.”

A Highland Christmas, rather than being a traditional murder mystery, is the story of how Christmas came one year to Lochdubh in spite of the leftover spirit of John Knox which “still wandered, blasting anyone with hellfire should they dare to celebrate this heathen festival.”

A Pickwickian Christmas

Dec22

I wish you a Pickwickian Christmas full of “bluff and hearty honesty” and “hospitality” and “merriment and open-heartedness” and “feasting and revelry” and “mutual goodwill” and “unalloyed delight”. Sentimental Victorian maybe, but no one does Christmas quite like Dickens!

As brisk as bees, if not altogether as light as fairies, did the four Pickwickians assemble on the morning of the twenty-second day of December, in the year of grace in which these, their faithfully-recorded adventures, were undertaken and accomplished. Christmas was close at hand, in all his bluff and hearty honesty; it was the season of hospitality, merriment, and open-heartedness; the old year was preparing, like an ancient philosopher, to call his friends around him, and amidst the sound of feasting and revelry to pass gently and calmly away. Gay and merry was the time; and right gay and merry were at least four of the numerous hearts that were gladdened by its coming.

And numerous indeed are the hearts to which Christmas brings a brief season of happiness and enjoyment. How many families, whose members have been dispersed and scattered far and wide, in the restless struggles of life, are then reunited, and meet once again in that happy state of companionship and mutual goodwill, which is a source of such pure and unalloyed delight; and one so incompatible with the cares and sorrows of the world, that the religious belief of the most civilised nations, and the rude traditions of the roughest savages, alike number it among the first joys of a future condition of existence, provided for the blessed and happy! How many old recollections, and how many dormant sympathies, does Christmas time awaken!

Poetry and Fine Art Friday: ‘Jest Fore Christmas

Dec20

Every year at Christmas time, my mom would quote this poem to me and my sister. And I quote it or read it to my children. There’s no escaping the legacy of a mom who quotes poetry.

JEST ‘FORE CHRISTMAS
BY Eugene Field

Father calls me William, sister calls me Will,
Mother calls me Willie, but the fellers call me Bill!
Mighty glad I ain’t a girl—ruther be a boy,
Without them sashes, curls, an’ things that’s worn by Fauntleroy!
Love to chawnk green apples an’ go swimmin’ in the lake—
Hate to take the castor-ile they give for bellyache!
‘Most all the time, the whole year round, there ain’t no flies on me,
But jest ‘fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!

Got a yeller dog named Sport, sick him on the cat;
First thing she knows she doesn’t know where she is at!
Got a clipper sled, an’ when us kids goes out to slide,
‘Long comes the grocery cart, an’ we all hook a ride!
But sometimes when the grocery man is worrited an’ cross,
He reaches at us with his whip, an’ larrups up his hoss,
An’ then I laff an’ holler, “Oh, ye never teched me!”
But jest ‘fore Christmas I’m as good as I kin be!

Gran’ma says she hopes that when I git to be a man,
I’ll be a missionarer like her oldest brother, Dan,
As was et up by the cannibuls that lives in Ceylon’s Isle,
Where every prospeck pleases, an’ only man is vile!
But gran’ma she has never been to see a Wild West show,
Nor read the Life of Daniel Boone, or else I guess she’d know
That Buff’lo Bill an’ cowboys is good enough for me!
Excep’ jest ‘fore Christmas, when I’m good as I kin be!

And then old Sport he hangs around, so solemnlike an’ still,
His eyes they seem a-sayin’: “What’s the matter, little Bill?”
The old cat sneaks down off her perch an’ wonders what’s become
Of them two enemies of hern that used to make things hum!
But I am so perlite an’ tend so earnestly to biz,
That mother says to father: “How improved our Willie is!”
But father, havin’ been a boy hisself, suspicions me
When, jest ‘fore Christmas, I’m as good as I kin be!

For Christmas, with its lots an’ lots of candies, cakes, an’ toys,
Was made, they say, for proper kids an’ not for naughty boys;
So wash yer face an’ bresh yer hair, an’ mind yer p’s and q’s,
An’ don’t bust out yer pantaloons, and don’t wear out yer shoes;
Say “Yessum” to the ladies, and “Yessur” to the men,
An’ when they’s company, don’t pass yer plate for pie again;
But, thinkin’ of the things yer’d like to see upon that tree,
Jest ‘fore Christmas be as good as yer kin be!

Rube Again

Dec20

My urchins were busy in the bathroom for an hour yesterday, making their own Rube Goldberg contraption that turned on the water to the sink when you opened the door. It wasn’t nearly as complicated as this one:

Today they’re working with their Daddy on another one.

Books for Giving

Dec20

What are you going to be when you grow up? Every child gets asked this question at least once a month, and they usually have an answer, according to their interests of the season. I asked my urchins and a few friends The Question and then wracked my brain for gift suggestions for the budding:

Architect/Engineer: I love David’s Macaulay’s books: Cathedral (1973), City (1974), Pyramid (1975), Underground (1976), Castle (1977), Unbuilding (1980), Mill (1983), and Ship (1993). We also watched several episodes of the PBS series Building Big in which Mr. Macaulay explains the history and construction of bridges, tunnels, skyscrapers, domes, and dams. My kids were even inspired to build their own dam. If you haven’t experienced David Macaulay’s books, you should. Any one of them would make a great Christmas gift for the architecturally inquisitive child or adult on your list.

Veterinarian/Circus Performer: Z-baby is planning serial careers. She says she wants to be a vet, then when she gets tired of doctoring animals, she plans a second career as a circus performer —or maybe taking care of the circus animals. When she gets a little older the James Herriot series about a Yorkshire veterinarian would be a great gift. For now, I think we’ll stick with a few animal books, such as Dogs and Cats by Steve Jenkins or A Horse in the House and Other Strange But True Animal Stories by Gail Ablow or May I Pet Your Dog?: The How-to Guide for Kids Meeting Dogs (and Dogs Meeting Kids) by Stephanie Calmenson —-all nominees for the Cybil Award for Nonfiction Picture Books.

Doctor: I have another child who plans to become a people doctor. She’s a little older than Z-baby, so for her, Gifted Hands: The Ben Carson Story by Ben Carson and Cecil Murphey and Fearfully and Wonderfully Made by Phillip Yancey and Paul Brand.

Dancer: Brown Bear Daughter plans a career in dance. She may dance or teach dance or choreograph dance or do all three and then some. Or knowing my drama queen, she may veer off in another direction as she grows up and surprise us all, including herself. If she hadn’t already read it, I would go out immediately and buy her Noel Streatfield’s classic Ballet Shoes. However, she has read it, several times. She wants a copy of the new Kiki Strike book, Kiki Strike: The Empress’s Tomb by Kirsten Miller; that’s to feed her sense of adventure and of the dramatic. Then, I think perhaps I’ll purchase some of the other “shoes” books by Streatfield if I can find them.

Samurai Warrior: I think Karate Kid knows that he probably can’t really become a samurai, but he would like to pretend a little while longer. For him, The Dangerous Book for Boys by Conn Iggulden and Hal Iggulden may be under the tree. N.D. Wilson’s new book, 100 Cupboards doesn’t release until December 26th, but I may pre-order it for Karate Kid. It sounds as if it will be just his speed, and he really enjoyed Wilson’s first book for children Leepike Ridge.

Artist: My 18 year old artiste wants an art book. I’m looking for suggestions. I thought maybe a subscription to Image, a quarterly journal that describes itself as “a unique forum for the best writing and artwork that is informed by—or grapples with—religious faith. We have never been interested in art that merely regurgitates dogma or falls back on easy answers or didacticism. Instead, our focus has been on writing and visual artwork that embody a spiritual struggle, that seek to strike a balance between tradition and a profound openness to the world. . . . Each issue explores this relationship through outstanding fiction, poetry, painting, sculpture, architecture, film, music, interviews, and dance. Image also features four-color reproductions of visual art.”

Writer: I have several would-be writers in the family. I thought the book Elmore Leonard’s 10 Rules of Writing, just published in October, might be helpful. I saw it mentioned at somebody’s blog. And as for old stand-bys, On Writing Well by WIlliam Zinser and Writing Down the Bones by Natalie Goldberg are both books that have inspired and honed my writing skills, such as they are. Another Cybils nominee, You Can Write a Story by Lisa Bullard, looks good for the younger set of aspiring writers. And “fictionally” speaking, I liked The Wild Girls by Pat Murphey, about a couple of middle school aged writers and their adventures in a summer writing class at Berkley.

Entrepreneur: I have one kid who just wants to grow up to be rich. For him, The Lemonade War by Jacqueline Davies (Semicolon review here) and The Toothpaste Millionaire by Jean Merrill are good choices in the fiction category.

Children’s Fiction of 2007: Isle of Swords by Wayne Thomas Batson

Dec19

If you haven’t finished your Christmas shopping, I’d suggest you rush right out and purchase a copy of Isle of Swords by Wayne Thomas Batson for the 9-16 year old on your list, especially the adventurous, piratical type. (Don’t we all have at least one of those?) Isle of Swords is pubished by Thomas Nelson Publishers, but it has a lot more in common with Stevenson’s classic Treasure Island and with the movie Pirates of the Caribbean than it does with the typical “Christian fiction” found on the shelves of your local Christian bookstore, even though you may have to look for it at the Christian bookstore because of the publishing imprint. Or order it from Amazon.

As far as plot elements, we’ve got treasure, a mysterious island, shark-infested waters, a treasure map, flogging, cutlasses, swords, guns, the British navy in pursuit, and explosions and swash-buckling battles galore. The characters are:

Declan Ross, captain of the pirate ship The Wallace,
Anne, his motherless daughter whose ambition is to join the pirate crew,
Cat, a mysterious castaway with amnesia,
Jules, Nubby, Midge, Red Eye, and Stede, members of the crew of The Wallace, each with his own memorable characteristics,
Bartholomew Thorne, the most ruthless pirate in the Caribbean and the sworn enemy of Ross and his crew,
Jacques St. Pierre, a half-crazy Frenchman with a penchant for blowing things up (perfect part for Johnny Depp in the movie adaptation),
and Padre Dominguez, member of a secret society, a holy order, sworn to protect the greatest treasure ever collected in one place, The Treasure of Constantine on the hidden and perilous Isle of Swords.

The ethical dilemma of having your hero, Captain Ross, be a violent, thieving pirate is dealt with in two ways. First of all, Declan Ross is a pirate with a heart; he eschews murder and violence unless it’s necessary in self-defense, and his crew is sworn to obey the captain and the ship’s articles. Check out Article #2:

Article Two: ‘The crew of The Wallace in a time of engagement shall willingly offer just quarter to any who request it. We shall not needlessly murder or do bodily harm to our foe. Neither shall we impress men into service. We shall not torture prisoners. Nor shall we mistreat women or meddle with them without consent. Any man who does violate this article shall suffer swift death.'”

I doubt there were many pirates with a code like that one, but it does serve the purpose of helping the reader to sympathize with the pirates, the good pirates that is. Also, Declan Ross and his crew are men who have been honest sailors in the past, but have been discharged by their own countries’ navies when the war between the British and the French was over, and now they have no honest way to make a living, according to the book. So mostly the “good pirates” fight the bad pirates, and the British Navy chases any pirate ship it can find in an attempt to bring them all to justice (hanging).

Isle of Swords is a rip-roaring pirate story in the tradition of POTC, but not too derivative. I think those who enjoy a fast-paced adventure story will love it. It is somewhat violent, so if that bothers you . . . Otherwise, read it over the holidays while it snows outside and dream of high-seas adventure in the tropics.

LOST Returns

Dec19

Wednesday used to be LOST day here at Semicolon. Since we’ve been on LOST hiatus and since my LOST reading project has been derailed by Cybils reading, I’ve been neglecting LOST. So here’s a trailer to whet your appetite:

I stole the trailer from the Thinklings blog. Wow! It looks as if there are other Others who are out to . . . do what? And they have to follow Locke, my least favorite character on the island, in order to survive?

We’ve been reviewing the first season of LOST here, and I’ve noticed a few things already.

Several of the characters really have grown and developed over the course of the show: Jack has become more confident and more humble at the same time. Sawyer isn’t as interested in punishing himself as he was in the first few shows. Sayid realized at some point that he could be a leader and still submit to authority when necessary. Charlie, of course, changed from an addict into a hero. All the Losties, or at least most of them, learned to “live together” instead of dying alone, except for those who died alone.

Kate remains annoying and untrustworthy, as far as I’m concerned.

LOST returns January 31, 2008. At least I suppose it does, if the members of the writers’ guild and the powers-that-be in Hollywood have learned to live together by then.

Presidential What Ifs

Dec17

Norma, Collecting My Thoughts, tells who she’d vote for if the election were today, and my choices were:

Between Gore and Obama, I’d vote for Gore.

Between Hillary and Obama, I’d vote for Obama.

Between Hillary and Edwards, I’d vote for Edwards.

Between Gore and Rudy, I’d vote for Gore.

Between Hillary and Rudy, I’d stay home/write in.

Between Gore and Romney, I’d vote for Romney.

Between Romney and Huckabee, I’d vote for Mike.

I’ll add:

Hilary vs. almost anyone, I’ll vote for almost anyone.

Rudy vs. almost any other Republican, I’ll vote for the other Republican.

Rudy vs. Hilary, I don’t trust either of them, so why vote unless I can figure out something useful to do with my vote?

Children’s Fiction of 2007: A Crooked Kind of Perfect by Linda Urban

Dec17

How It Was Supposed to Be: I was supposed to play the piano. The piano is a beautiful instrument. Elegant. Dignified. People wear ball gowns and tuxedos to hear the piano. With the piano, you could play Carnegie Hall. . . . A piano is glamorous. Sophisticated. Worldly. It is a wonderful thing to play the piano.

How It Is: I play the organ. A wood-grained, vinyl seated, wheeze-bag organ. The Perfectone D-60.”

The Perfectone D-60 is, of course, an emblem of sorts for narrator Zoe Elias’s not-so-perfect life. Her mom’s always at work; her dad’s afraid to leave the house; her best friend has found another best friend; Wheeler Diggs keeps following her home; and Colton Shell, the guy she really likes, doesn’t even notice her. However, things get really complicated when Zoe agrees to enter the Perform-a-Rama playing Neil Diamond’s Forever in Blue Jeans on her Perfectone D-60. How will she get to the competition? Will her mom be able to get off work long enough to see her perform? Why did she want to be in a competition in the first place? And what if, heaven forbid, she makes a mistake?

Zoe’s parents are wonderful, imperfect parents. Zoe herself is just imperfect enough to be believable. She learns to play quickly and well, but she’s not a prodigy, just a dedicated musician who enjoys her music in spite of her imperfect instrument and her rather odd teacher, Miss Person. A Crooked Kind of Perfect has a great title and a narrator with an incomparable voice, just right for a ten year old with ambitions. It’s a funny book, yet it has a serious message about perfectionism and about living and thriving in the midst of imperfection.

One of Zoe’s dreams the night before the Perform-o-rama:

Dream #4
My mom is judging the Perform-O-Rama.
I’m wearing a tiara and playing “Forever in Blue Jeans.”
I am perfect.
I think I’m perfect.
I’m not perfect.
My mom shows me her judging sheet. It is filled with red marks—one for each wrong note.
And then a phone rings and everybody turns and looks and there in the audience Vladomir Horowitz is pulling a cell phone out of his tuxedo pocket.
‘Hello?’ he says. He looks at me.
‘It’s for you.'”

Three more dreams and a lot more humor, if you read the book.

Other bloggers review A Crooked Kind of Perfect:

Becky at Deliciously Clean Reads: “The characters, the relationships are about as perfect as can be. I’ve never seen family dynamics so well captured, so well displayed. Linda Urban has created memorable, authentic characters. The book has it all–moments of happiness, frustration, disappointment, loneliness, and joy. And plenty of humor!”

Shelf Elf: “Linda Urban deserves plenty of attention for her debut. I’ve been inspired. Next time I visit my mom’s place, you can bet I’ll be spending a little time grooving my way down memory lane with my old favs from Roger’s and Hammerstein Hits backed up by a little Boogie Woogie Bass.”

Jen Robinson’s Book Page: “This is an excellent book to give to a kids in the third to sixth grades. It’s a relatively easy read, but with a lot of hidden depth that I think the kids on the middle school end (and higher) will be more able to appreciate. For example, there is a painful scene in which Zoe attends a party where she brings the wrong gift and wears the wrong clothes. This will resonate with any reader who has ever had such an experience. (And who hasn’t?)”

To This Great Stage of Fools: Born December 17th

Dec17

John Greenleaf Whittier, b. 1807. Whittier must have been very popular around the turn of the century. My book, The Year’s Entertainments, has several pages in the December chapter devoted to a program celebrating Whittier’s birthday. One page is entitled “Notes About Whittier’s Life (to be read aloud by several pupils).”

Whittier scribbled verses on his slate when he was a little boy, but he was a lad of nineteen when he sent his first poem to William Lloyd Garrison, editor of The Free Press. Garrison was so pleased with poem that he drove out to the farm to see the writer and found him hoeing in the field. They had a long talk, the editor advising Whittier to take some course of study as a training for a literary future.

Whittier’s education had been limited to the district school, half a mile away, and with a term of but twelve weeks later in the year. He was puzzled to know how to secure the means to gain the coveted education, and finally solved the problem by learning to make shoes. From the money he so earned he got six months’ board and tuition in Haverhill Academy. At the close of this term of study, he became editor of a home paper, and also edited the Hartford New England Review; consquently he soon became known to all the writers and thinkers of New England.”

And’s here’s a sample poem by Whittier, suitable for considering as the primary elections come close upon the new year. Iowa will be holding its caucuses on January 3rd, and New Hampshire, Michigan, Nevada, South Carolina, and Florida will follow with primary elections or caucuses in January, too.

The Poor Voter on Election Day

The proudest now is but my peer,
The highest not more high;
Today of all the weary year,
A king of men am I.

Today, alike are great and small,
The nameless and the known;
My place is the people’s hall,
The ballot-box my throne!

Who serves today up on the list
Beside the served shall stand;
Alike the brown and wrinkled fist,
The gloved and dainty hand!
The rich is level with the poor,
The weak is strong today;
The sleekest broadcloth counts no more
Than homespun frock on gray.

Today let pomp and vain pretence
My stubborn right abide;
I set a plain man’s common sense
Against the pedant’s pride.
Today shall simple manhood try
The strength of gold and land;
The wide world has not wealth to buy
The power in my right hand!

While there’s grief to seek redress,
Or balance to adjust,
Where weighs our living manhood less
Than Mammon’s vilest dust,–

While there’s a right to need my vote,
A wrong to sweep away,
Up! clouted knee and ragged coat!
A man’s a man today!