Christopher Robin (movie)

Mar13

I just watched the 2018 movie Christopher Robin. They ripped off the plot and the themes from the movie version of Mary Poppins and from Hook, imported the Disney Pooh characters and some Pooohisms, and pared it all down to the essence of boring. Christopher Robin is all grown up, and he’s the such a baddie because he won’t leave his work to go for a holiday in the country with his daughter and wife. He’s forgotten his childhood and his childhood friends, Pooh and Piglet and the rest of the denizens of the Hundred Acre Woods.

I’m not a fan of movies that that say that growing up is a bad thing, and we should all just forget our responsibilities and our work and play like children. That’s not what Jesus meant when he said we were to become as children. to enter the kingdom of heaven. He wasn’t talking about some Disney version of “let’s go fly a kite” or the catchphrase in this movie, which was something like “doing nothing often leads to the very best kind of something.” (Try that one on your boss the next time you want a day off.) Not that Christopher Robin mentions Jesus or childlike faith or anything else very deep or interesting. I guess we can be thankful that the movie doesn’t give us any post-modern wisdom, just Pooh uttering his simple proverbs, nor does it have any scenes or language that would earn it anything more than a G rating, just a couple of very mild war scenes at the beginning when Christopher Robin is off fighting in World War II.

Silly old Disney. How about you quit giving us recycled blather for a movie and try to do something new and real?

Joan Proctor, Dragon Doctor by Patricia Valdez

Mar12

Joan Proctor, Dragon Doctor: The Woman Who Loved Reptiles by Patricia Valdez, illustrated by Felicita Sala. Knopf, 2018.

In case you’re not current on your famous herpetologists, Joan Proctor was a British expert on amphibians and reptiles who became a curator of reptiles at the Natural History Museum, then a part of the British Museum, just after World War I. In 1923, Joan Proctor was appointed to the post of curator of reptiles at the London Zoo. She designed the Reptile House at the zoo, studied and cared for the reptiles housed there, wrote articles and scientific papers about her findings, and presented her observations and research before the Scientific Meeting of the Zoological Society of London in 1928. All of these accomplishments were done without a college degree and in spite of the chronic illness that kept Ms. Proctor from ever attending college.

Ms. Proctor was particularly interested in and fond of Komodo dragons, especially a Komodo dragon named Sumbawa with whom she took daily walks through the zoo. For any child who is an animal lover, or a fan of reptiles, lizards and snakes, this book would be a treasure.

The book mentions but does not emphasize the fact that Joan Proctor was something of a phenomenon in her day. In a time when middle and upper class women did not work outside the home at all, much less with snakes and lizards in the zoo, Joan Proctor’s work was novel and ground-breaking. The newspaper articles referenced in the bibliography carry titles that indicate that journalists were both curious and a bit shocked by her work:

“English Woman Charms Snakes: Joan Proctor, 25 Years Old, Has Charge of Reptiles in the London Zoo.” The Winnipeg Tribune, August 15, 1923.

“Girl Manages Reptile House in London Zoo.” Mount Carmel Item, December 28, 1929.

“Snakes Alive, and a Lady Who Loves Them. London’s Curator of Reptiles.” The Advertiser, Adelaide, Australia. January 4, 1930.

Unfortunately, Ms. Proctor died young, at the age of thirty-four, from complications due to her chronic illness. But her work and inspiration live on in this timeless picture book biography of a talented and fearless lady who defied expectations to pursue the study and career that she loved. And the book has quite a bit of information about Komodo dragons for readers who are particularly interested in them. (They are rather amazing creations, but I wouldn’t want to take one walking, no matter how tame he was.)

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

One Fun Day with Lewis Carroll by Kathleen Krull

Mar8

One Fun Day with Lewis Carroll: A Celebration of Wordplay and a Girl Named Alice by Kathleen Krull, illustrated by Julia Sarda. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 2018. 32 pages.

One Fun Day is not exactly a traditional biography or a picture book biography of the famous author and mathematician Charles Lutwidge Dodgson as it is a celebration of his life, his storytelling, and his way and play with words. Nevertheless, there is two page spread of text and pictures at the back of the book that tells “more about Lewis Carroll’s journey to the Alice books” as well as a glossary of “words and ideas invented or adapted by Lewis Carroll.”

The main part of the book is a romp through the life, words, and ideas of Mr. Carroll. The book talks about Carroll’s enduring childhood and gives an idea of what a day with Lewis Carroll might have been like. The illustrations are a delight, including a two-page spread of Alice chasing the White Rabbit through Wonderland. There are also numerous pictures of Lewis playing and story-telling with his young friends, and the text incorporates many of the words and phrases that Lewis Carroll originated: chortles, uffish, slithy, uglification, and un-birthday, to name a few.

The day and the book both end with Lewis rich, famous, and busy writing stories: “Lewis Carroll, the man who never forgot how to play, had turned a day of fun into stories that were fabulous and joyous—as he would say, frabjous.”

I wrote in another post about my take on modern-day accusations against Lewis Carroll that I find to be unsupported, revisionist, and unfair. You can check out that post and the links there if you’re interested. But I would suggest that you just enjoy Mr. Carroll on his own terms as he and his work are presented in One Fun Day with Lewis Carroll. This picture book would be a wonderful introduction to a read-aloud of Alice in Wonderland, a book that I love but I find to be somewhat polarizing. Some love it as much as I do; others just can’t understand it or hate it. At least you should try reading it if you haven’t. Alice is quite the adventure. And wordplay is the essence of poetry.

More Lewis Carroll:
Many Happy Returns:January 27th

Of Snarks and Quarks

Radio Jabberwocky

Lewis Carroll’s Christmas Greeting

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

Manjiro by Emily Arnold McCully

Mar7

Manjiro: The Boy Who Risked His Life for Two Countries by Emily Arnold McCully. Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2008. 40 pages.

“No Japanese ship or boat . . . nor any native of Japan, shall presume to go out of the country; whoso acts contrary to this shall die.” ~Tokugawa Shogunate pronouncement, 1638.

Manjiro, a fisherman’s boy, who was shipwrecked on a fishing trip, then rescued by a Massachusetts whaling ship, seems to have been a resourceful and intelligent young man. He, along with his fellow fishermen, survived six months on a deserted island. He traveled to Massachusetts with the captain of the ship that rescued them, learned English, and reading, and writing, and navigation. Then, he went to the California gold fields and earned enough money for a boat to take him back to Japan. Then, in act of either bravery or desperate homesickness or both, he returned to Japan to face the possible penalty of death for his having left the country of his birth.

I liked reading this brief account of Manjiro’s life, and I believe children who read the book will find his story to be inspiring. It takes perseverance and hard work to encounter a different culture, learn what you can from the other, and then return to be a bridge between cultures and peoples as Manjiro did. This book would be a good addition to studies of Japan and its history, nineteenth century exploration and business, the Gold Rush, whaling, and cultural appreciation. For more information and further study:

Shipwrecked! The True Adventures of a Japanese Boy by Rhoda Blumberg tells more about Manjiro and his life for a slightly older audience.

Commodore in the Land of the Shogun, also by Rhoda Blumberg, tells about the opening of Japan to American and Western influence and trade after two hundred and fifty years of isolation. Manjiro played a part in Commodore Perry’s success in negotiating with Japan’s leaders.

Emily Arnold McCully is a fine writer and illustrator, with many good books to her credit, including The Pirate Queen, a picture book biography of female pirate Grania O’Malley; An Outlaw Thanksgiving, a fictional tale of a Thanksgiving dinner with famous outlaw Butch Cassidy; and Mirette on the High Wire, a Caldecott Award winner.

If you are interested in purchasing ($5.00) a curated list of favorite picture book biographies with over 300 picture books about all sorts of different people, email me at sherryDOTpray4youATgmailDOTcom. I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

Wolferl by Lisl Weil

Mar6

Wolferl: The First Six Years in the Life of Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart, 1756-1762 by Lisl Weil. 32 pages.

This picture book biography uses about thirty pages of text and pictures to tell the engaging story of Mozart’s childhood in Salzburg and in Vienna, and then the author skips to the end to tell us that Mozart “composed a wealth of concertos, sonatas, chamber music, symphonies, operas, Singspiels, church music, contra dances, and Divertimentis.” Then he died at the age of thirty-five, a pauper, but “his music has lived on and is loved by people everywhere.”

Of course, young readers and those who listen to this biography read aloud will focus on the amazing childhood experiences of Mozart and his sister Nannerl, and not the sad ending. After all, their parents thought they were God’s miracles. They performed before kings and queens and emperors and empresses, and then got to go to children’s parties with the royal progeny. Wolferl (Mozart’s nickname, which was short for Johannes Chrisostomus Wolfgangus Theophilus Mozart) was especially known as a child prodigy, who learned to play the violin, the piano, and organ and compose songs beginning at the tender age of three.

The illustrations, also done by author Lisl Weil, are somewhat cartoonish in stye, but they complement the text nicely and give some idea of the style and grandeur that the Mozart family experienced during their many performances. I wondered if Nannerl was in her younger brother’s shadow, so to speak, because she was a girl or because she was not quite as precocious as the amazing Wolferl or because she was just not as talented as her little brother. Perhaps I can find out more about that aspect of the Mozart saga from another picture book biography that’s on my TBR list, For the Love of Music: The Remarkable Story of Maria Anna Mozart by Elizabeth Rusch.

This book won’t satisfy all the questions that young musicians and readers might have about Wolfgang Amadeus, but it would make a good introduction to his life and work. As follow-up reading, I would suggest:

Books:
Young Mozart by Rachel Isadora.
Mozart Tonight by Julie Downing.
Mozart the Wonder Boy by Opal Wheeler and Sybil Deucher.
The Story of Mozart by Helen L. Kaufman.

Audio CD story with music:
Mozart’s Magic Fantasy: A Journey Through “The Magic Flute” (Classical Kids)

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

Out of School and Into Nature by Suzanne Slade

Mar4

Out of School and Into Nature: The Anna Comstock Story by Suzanne Slade, illustrated by Jessica Lanon.

“From the time she was no higher than a daisy, Anna was wild about nature. She loved to hold it close in her fingers, she wanted to feel it squish between her toes, which was why she ran barefoot all summer long, raised slimy tadpoles into pet toads, and climbed tall trees instead of sitting in their shade.”

Anna Botsford Comstock was an artist, conservationist, teacher and naturalist during the first half of the twentieth century. She enrolled at Cornell University in 1874, in an era when women were not encouraged to go to college or to study science and nature. Her Handbook of Nature Study, published in 1911, became a standard text for teachers, and she was the first female professor at Cornell University.

This picture book introduces children and adults to the nature-loving Mrs. Comstock and her passion for the importance of nature study as a part of a child’s education. The book includes beautiful nature paintings of everything from butterflies to spiderwebs to sunflowers to stinkbugs, and it would be an inspiration to anyone just starting out to do “nature study” with children.

Out of School and Into Nature also features several quotes from Mrs. Comstock herself concerning the vital importance of children interacting with nature:

“Nature study cultivates in the child a love of the beautiful.”

“The nature story is never finished. There is not a weed or an insect or a tree so common that the child, by observing carefully, may not see things never yet recorded.”

In the parlance of Charlotte Mason educators, this picture book about “The Mother of Nature Education” is indeed a living book, as is Comstock’s own Handbook of Nature Study. Let this simple but beautiful book be an introduction to Anna Botsford Comstock and her ideas about nature study, and then move on to her book and share the book and the joys of nature with a child you know. You will both be the richer for having done so.

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

The Boy Who Drew Birds by Jacqueline Davies

Mar1

The Boy Who Drew Birds: A Story of John James Audubon by Jacqueline Davies, illustrated by Melissa Sweet.

This picture book, only 32 pages, does not attempt to even summarize the entire life of artist and naturalist John James Audubon, but it does tell of one particular episode in the life of young Audubon as he was just beginning his life’s work in the study of birds. And that’s what I learned from the book: Audubon didn’t just draw birds, but he also studied their habits and features and habitats as a scientist would.

Audubon grew up in France and learned about birds from his father. He came to America mostly to avoid having to serve in Napoleon’s army. Ms. Davies’ book tells of how John James Audubon experimented and proved a theory about birds: that many birds return to the same nest each year after migrating, and their offspring nest nearby. He confirmed this theory by banding some of the birds he was observing with a silver thread. He was the first person in North America to band a bird.

This picture book story would be wonderful introduction to Audubon’s work, but of course, the next obvious step is to look at Audubon’s paintings and drawings and become familiar with Audubon, the artist. According to the author’s biographical note in the back of the book, “His revolutionary paintings pleased two audiences: scientists, who were drawn to their accuracy, and ordinary people, who simply enjoyed the beauty of his birds.”

Melissa Sweet, who illustrated this lovely picture book, says she was inspired by another aspect of Audubon’s art: “his handwriting and the quality of the handmade papers he used.” Sweet’s art is just that, sweet, and very much in tune with the setting and the cadence of Audubon’s amateur love for birds, which became something much more than amateur, indeed a profession and an art that continues to delight today.

There’s a Dover coloring book, called Audubon’s Birds of America Coloring Book that would be a fantastic go-along with this story. And of course, nothing substitutes for a nature walk and finding your own birds to observe (and draw) in the wild.

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

Marvelous Mattie by Emily Arnold McCully

Feb28

Marvelous Mattie: How Margaret E. Knight Became an Inventor by Emily Arnold McCully.

I first heard of Margaret Knight as a minor character in Christopher Healy’s book A Dastardly Plot, the first in his new series Perilous Journey of Danger & Mayhem about a late nineteenth century girl and her mother, both of whom are inventors. The girl, Molly Pepper, is a fictional character, but the characters and events that swirl around her madcap adventures are not all fictional: Edison, Tesla, Alexander Graham Bell, and of course, Margaret E. Knight.

Margaret Knight was born February 14, 1838. Young Margaret began inventing useful things when she was a child, always sketching ideas and using her tools to build things. Ms.Knight grew up in near-poverty, her father deceased, and went to work in a cotton mill at the age of twelve. As an adult, Ms. Knight had many inventions and over twenty patents to her name by the time of her death in 1914, earning her the title in the popular press of the “Lady Edison.” She had to defend her work in court as a man who tried to steal her ideas said she “could not possibly understand the mechanical complexities” of her own machine, a machine that made flat-bottomed paper bags. But Margaret was able to demonstrate her capabilities in the courtroom, and she won her case.

Another picture book biography about Margaret Knight, in the Great Idea Series by Monica Kulling, is titled In the Bag! Margaret Knight Wraps It Up. I haven’t read this second picture book bio, but it looks good. I think either book would be a lovely way to kick off Women’s History Month in March or to begin a study of inventors and inventions anytime of the year. Then, as an activity or experiment, try folding and cutting a piece of paper to make a paper bag with a flat bottom, and imagine building machine that would make these paper bags for widespread use.

I’m highlighting picture book biographies in March. What is your favorite picture book about a real person?

Beneath a Scarlet Sky by Mark Sullivan

Feb25

The problem with a historical novel that is “based on the true story of a forgotten hero” is that the reader is left wondering how much of the story is fiction and how much is fact. Especially when the protagonist of the novel is a World War II hero, which is relatively recent history. If a historical novel is about Cleopatra or Marco Polo, one can assume that most of the dialog and much of the action is made up while the timeline is essentially accurate, if the author did his research. But with a more recent figure and time period, a book about someone who actually gave extensive interviews to Mr. Sullivan, it’s harder to separate fact from fiction. And if I’m reading about a “forgotten hero” like Pino Lella, I can’t even scramble for a biography to fact check as I could with Winston Churchill or General Patton, fo examples.

However, despite the fact that my thoughts persisted in returning to the question of whether this or that episode in the novel “really happened” or really happened the way it was portrayed in the novel, I did enjoy this World War II tale set in northern Italy, mostly Milan, during the last gasps of the war, 1943-1945. The book raises the questions of what makes a hero and what defines a traitor. If you do something to fight against evil, but you don’t do everything you could do because that would cost you your life, is it enough? What if you do some good in the midst of great evil only as a means of hedging your bets? When is action in the face of overwhelming force, honorable and courageous, and when does it become merely quixotic and foolish?

I have read and watched other books and movies about the war in Italy. The following are the most memorable:

My Italian Secret: The Forgotten Heroes is a documentary about heroes of the struggle against Facism and Nazi Germany in Italy during World War II, particularly about some of those who rescued Jews from the Germans. I thought it was quite illuminating. The documentary features world class cyclist Gino Bartali, who secretly worked for the Italian underground during the war. (In Beneath a Scarlet Sky, Pino Lella learns to drive from Alberto Ascari, a race car driver who went on to become a Formula One World Champion after the war.)

A Bell for Adano by John Hersey won the Pulitzer Prize in 1945. It’s about Major Victor Joppolo, an Italian American officer in the U.S. army who was “more or less the American mayor after our invasion” of Adano a small village in Sicily.

A Thread of Grace by Mary Doria Russell. This novel is set in Northern Italy during the last year of World War II.

These I haven’t read, but they look interesting:

Twentieth Century Caesar: Benito Mussolini by Jules Archer. A Messner biography.

Road to Valor: A True Story of WWII Italy, the Nazis, and the Cyclist Who Inspired a Nation by Aili McConnon. About Gino Bartali, the cyclist/hero.

The Brave Cyclist: The True Story of a Holocaust Hero by Amalia Hoffman and Chiara Fedele. A picture book biography of Bartali.

God Save Texas by Lawrence Wright

Feb23

God Save Texas: A Journey into the Soul of the Lone Star State by Lawrence Wright.

Mr. Wright, a native Texan, is as ambivalent about Texas and Texan culture as the rest of the country is. I found his book to be both annoying and fascinating–like watching a meandering train near-miss, not exactly a wreck but definitely wandering off the rails. If Mr. Wright had a plan or an outline or a thesis for his opus on Texas, I failed to discern it. Instead it reads like a bunch of essays or magazine articles cobbled together. And he ends the book with a whimper rather than a bang. After repeatedly musing about whether or not he should have stayed in Texas or moved to New York or Washington, D.C., he finally decides that it’s too late to change his mind. I join in his wonderment at why he stayed and continues to do so.

“Because Texas is a part of almost everything in modern America—the South the West, the Plains, Hispanic and immigrant communities, the border, the divide between rural areas and cities—what happens here tends to disproportionately affect the rest of the nation.” I gathered that Mr. Wright thought that the rest of the nation thought that Texas influence and power was mostly a bad thing, but I couldn’t really tell whether Mr. Wright thought it was bad. Maybe the rest of Texas would catch up to progressive Austin, and then it would all be O.K. Again, with the ambivalence.

The writing in this book is good and clear and engaging. The ideas that Wright writes about are not. He consistently, and in not too subtle a way, displays his disdain for what he calls “AM Texas”, “the suburbs and the rural areas–Trumpland. It’s endless bluster and endless ads. Paranoia and piety are the main items on the menu.” In contrast, FM Texas is “progressive, blue, reasonable, secular, and smug—almost like California.” Lawrence Wright comes across smug in this book, and his assumption that I share his FM Texas superiority and progressive politics just because I listen to FM radio and didn’t vote for Trump was off-putting and kept drawing me out of his narrative and his stories. I would have enjoyed the stories more without the moralizing.

A lot of the book is about Texas politics, which you either have an interest in or not. I do. And the stories Wright tells about Texas politicians and their foibles are worth the read. However, I just wish he had kept his own personal reservations and hesitations and conflicting feelings about Texas and its culture and politics out of the book—or else he could have said up front, “I’m a progressive, and a self-hating Texan. I want Texas to be more like California, but I don’t want to move and go to California. And of course, this is the reasonable way to view Texas.” Well, to be fair, he practically did say just that over the course of the book. Just with more words.

I recommend the book to Texans, but if you are at all conservative in your politics, you will find it annoying. I do not recommend the book to non-Texans because I don’t think Wright is fair to “AM Texas” or to the complex history of politics and culture in Texas. I found a book I read a few weeks ago, The Kings of Big Spring: God, Oil, and One Family’s Search for the American Dream by Bryan Mealer, much more insightful and thought-provoking than this one on the subject of Texas and its cultural strengths and failures. I do recommend Wright’s expose of Scientology, called Going Clear.

And God save Texas, because we do need saving.