The Very Quiet Cricket, by Eric Carle - Picturebook

I just recently had a great-niece born into my family and I have been very excited about buying books for her to read and to have read to her as she grows. Being a third grade teacher, however, I was a little lost on which books to buy for a young child (granted, Haleigh will not be reading them for several years, I figured I could always start her library off from the beginning). To be honest, I was never really raised on really good picturebooks, such as the caliber of books that I have been reading throughout this semester. My parents made sure that I had as many books as I wanted, but they turned out to be comic books and fairytales most of the time. Therefore, I have felt a little like Cynthia Rylant in that book warehouse filled with children’s books; so many books and so little time!

As mentioned, I decided to read Eric Carle because many in my Children’s Literature class who teach younger students were recommending his work. I’ve heard of The Very Hungry Caterpillar and wanted to read this one to myself, The Very Quiet Cricket. I really think that crickets are cute and I really would like for him to write one about fireflies.

The end pages of the book are very interesting because they look like some of the finger paint work that I have seen preschoolers do; a masterpiece of colors and zigzags. In fact, the illustrations are very child-friendly and look like they could be replicated by a child with finger/tempera paint and an easel.

I love the story line, as well. There are not a lot of words on a page and the overall story grows on itself. You have a little cricket being greeted by different types of insects throughout the day, but when the cricket tries to respond likewise, he is unable to make a sound. The same thing occurs throughout the day and the same words are basically repeated over and over again. This is a great tool for teaching early readers to read. The ending fits with a different occurrence, when the little cricket is finally able to make a sound when he meets up with a “lady cricket”.

The beauty of some of Carle’s books is that he interweaves nature and science into the book. Young children are fascinated with nature and the natural occurrence of things within their new, big world and this book is tailored to quench this fascination. I, in my older age, discovered something new. I did not know that only the male crickets can make a sound when they rub their wings together. Now, on summer nights, when I listen to the crickets outside, I will know who is playing in the natural orchestra!

Where The Wild Things Are, by Maurice Sendak - Picturebook

“And now,” cried Max, “let the wild rumpus start!” I want to be Max, the ruler of the wild things, holding a royal scepter in my hand and commanding wild things to do as I please. I want to sail across an ocean in my own private boat for days, weeks, and into a year. I mean, at some point in all our lives, I would wager to say that we all wanted to be Max. I would also wager to say that we all have been Max’s mother at some point in time, telling him to go to bed without dinner because he smart mouthed off at us. I would even wager to say that at times we have all been the wild things, wanting to roar terrible roars (when someone has upset us) and gnash terrible teeth (when we feel frustrated) and roll terrible eyes (when someone is threatening our place in this world) and show terrible claws (maybe just when we are hungry). Still, a person, no matter what age, can read this book and discover themselves in it.

Ironically, I didn’t read this book for myself until I had taught for several years. Sure, I had heard of the book and could even tell you a little about the wild things, but I couldn’t tell about the main plot to the story. Interestingly enough, however, I am glad that I read it as an adult, so that I could smirk at Max and his “hedonistic behavior” and realize that this was really a dream (or was it?). The author/illustrator draws from the ideas of dreams. I still, as an adult, dream every night, and just like Max, my dreams are strange and unbelievable in their natures. In my dreams I have traveled to many a place in the time period of a good night’s sleep and arrived right back home in the morning. The wild things are true creatures of dreams with their different configured bodies. They are a combination of animals and all have really scary eyes, but not too scary. A child would most likely be able to realize that these are not creatures to fear, but creatures to pretend to fear and more importantly, to laugh at. Yes, the wild things are a true conglomeration of different animals, but it is the eyes that make them perfectly unique. Their yellow eyes, which Max instantly tames with the “staring game”, are fascinating to look upon. They are just big yellow dots with pupils of black smaller dots, but they show so many emotions and feelings. I see fear and excitement, joy and anger. It is when the wild things actually close their eyes that Max tires of being their ruler and decides to go home.

The whole concept of the wolf suit is fun, also. When people go to costume parties they become someone else for a little while. They are given a chance to break free and take a little vacation from life, even when you are around people you may see every day. In a costume, you are different and you feel the desire to act-out the character. I can imagine that Max was quite the beastly wolf in the wolf suit, obviously leading him into some serious trouble.

The pictures are simple, yet neatly done. When I say simple, I do not mean that they could be easily drawn by just anyone, however. I believe that the pictures are meant to be simple to show an event in a little boy’s life (just like some of our own childhood events) that could happen to anyone. The same simplicity is shown with the island of the wild things. Yet here, when the wild rumpus begins, the pictures become full layouts and bleeds. That is one great rumpus party to be a part of! We could all slip off into a dreamland of wild things and resurface in the present with the simple act of awakening.

The Widow's Broom, by Chris Van Allsburg - Picturebook

I became introduced to Chris Van Allsburg books last year, with his story The Garden of Abdul Gasazi, in our basal reading book. After reading that story, I must say that I really was not enthralled with Van Allsburg, however, with the excitement of other teachers pushing me forward, I read some more of his books. I quickly realized that I enjoyed his works and wanted to read more and more. His sense of mystery that he left the reader with after reading his books was very exciting and I realized that many a theme could be drawn from his words. True, most of his illustrations (all done by him) were typically black and white, but with a bit more analyzing on my part, I realized that the black and white photographs were just right for the words and the themes that Van Allsburg was trying to get across to the reader. With all of this in mind, I decided to read The Widow’s Broom.

For as long as I can remember I have been drawn to books that recognize hatred, racism, and selfishness in the world and try to right these evils and allow the “underdog” character to succeed. I like the idea that love conquerors all and that eventually the truth will set a person free. In short, I want the bad guy to get what is coming to him/her in the end and the good guy to win. The Widow’s Broom is a book that embodies all of these characteristics, and I loved it. True, I enjoyed reading it to my class with the lights off and the shades drawn and with a spooky voice. I had set the tone for my third graders to enjoy a Halloween/Autumn type book, but this story goes so much deeper than that. The very real prejudices of the neighbors against the broom that is in a sense “gifted” to Widow Shaw is very real and more scary than anything that could fall from the sky on a dark, cold autumn night. The extent of actions that this prejudice takes the neighbors to reflects the Puritan beliefs and reminded me of the Salem Witch hunts in the 1600s. The reader feels a close bond with the Widow and her broom, who appears to be almost pet-like in it’s loyalty and desire to please. The only thing it does is help around the house, keep the Widow Shaw company, and sweep when it gets the chance. Therefore, when the reader sees the neighbors plot against the broom and openly pick on the innocent item, the reader is outraged (at least I know that I was!). The final act of injustice is proven when the broom is “burned at the stake” in order to supposedly rid the country of such evil. I laughed right along with my students when we all discovered that the Widow Shaw, such a seemingly helpless, old lady, had devised a plan to truly rid the country of the evil with the neighbors finally leaving in fear of a “ghost broom”.

This Van Allsburg book did not leave me wondering at the end, because it mentioned the white paint and the little hint in the beginning about the broom not sleeping. I knew that Widow Shaw had devised a clever plan to save her new companion and help mate. The justice that was written into the end of the story was very well appreciated by me, the reader, and twenty little third graders!

26 Fairmount Avenue, by Tomie DePaola - Autobiography

My students come to me with a repertoire of knowledge about Tomie DePaola books under their little knowledge belts because they do an author study on him in the second grade. Therefore, when I pull the Tomie DePaola books for them to read with our story, The Mysterious Giant of Barletta, they pretty much already think that they know everything about him that is possible. That is when I decided to bring out the autobiography. Remarkably, they don’t read this with the author study in the second grade so that left me, the third grade teacher, to have a little trick up my sleeve. Be forewarned, however, that you will experience many laughs when you read this book, because DePaola is certainly one of the most hilarious children that I have encountered!

The story begins around the time that Tomie was approximately age four and his family was beginning to build their new home on 26 Fairmount Avenue. A hurricane struck Meriden, Connecticut that fall and nearly destroyed the production of the home and many city ordinances nearly stopped the finalization of the home altogether, but in the end, the family moves in. In this book, Tomie is the youngest child (his sisters come later in life) with one older brother. Evidently the brother is a good child and student, and the reader can infer, through various incidents in the book, that Tomie was nothing like his older brother. In fact, his first day of kindergarten Tomie, with as much self-confidence that a five-year-old can have, haultily walked up the school steps and marched right up to the principal. The principal asked him who he was and Tomie replied and then curtly asked who she was. The reader starts gaining the feeling that Tomie may not have made the best decisions throughout grade school when we are left hearing Tomie say that he got to know the principal very well throughout he next couple of years. This leaves the reader to infer that Tomie was not the “best” of students, so to say.

Another funny occurrence happened that first day of kindergarten when he finally walked in to his classroom, met the teacher, and asked when they were going to beginning reading. Interestingly (and I use that term with sarcasm), the teacher told him that they would not learn how to read until next year, in the first grade. Tomie simply stated that in that case he would come back next year, turned around, and walked home. How very defiant for a child and with such confidence. I love it! I know a child like that!

Tomie DePaola’s book, Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs, was mentioned in this book with Tomie talking about going to visit his grandmothers and sitting with Nana Upstairs for visits. The respect that he felt for this older woman is very evident and sincere through this writings, even when he recalls an uncomfortable incident with laxatives. I will leave this little section of the book closed until you open it and read it for yourself; and believe me, it will be well worth it!

Finally, Tomie was a child after my own heart when he went for the first time to see Walt Disney’s Snow White. He was so excited because his mother had read the book to him many times and he was delighted to get the opportunity to see it in moving picture. However, as we all experience at least once in our lives, most movies never exactly match the books. Tomie was so outraged at this that at age four he stood up in the movie theatre and shouted at the screen! He was of course hushed by another woman behind him, but the sight of seeing an outraged child shouting at a movie screen for not going exactly by the book makes me smile. I have wanted to do this many times but couldn’t quite pull it off with as much “class” as DePaola did. His mother came and rushed him out of the theatre as soon as the movie ended, however. So funny!

Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry - Historical Fiction

I picked up Number the Stars at the bookstore because it was a historical fiction novel (and I needed one of those for my Journal blogging) and because Lois Lowry (the writer of The Giver) wrote it. I was so fascinated with The Giver that I was certain that if she used the same craft in Number the Stars that she employed in The Giver, that I would love this book. I was right, because I was drawn into Number the Stars instantly.

I enjoy books that have an undercurrent of realism and ironic events and characters embedded through the writing of historical fiction. Number the Stars is set in Copenhagen, Denmark during the Nazi Germany invasion. The Johansen’s are a typical Danish family that had three daughters who were going about their daily lives before their king, Christian X, surrendered to Germany, without a fight, because he had the knowledge that Denmark was a small country and that they would not survive a war. German soldiers get posted throughout town, curfews are issued for the citizens, electricity and foods are rationed, and blackout curtains are put up. Life changes even more dramatically when their oldest daughter, Lise, is killed in an accident. Like in The Giver, the reader really doesn’t find out about how Lise is killed immediately, but as we read the story, Lowry gives us a trail to follow until we realize that Lise was a member of the Resistance group and that one rainy night she was purposely run down by a car of the Nazi’s. The reader suspects something of this sort, with Lise being engaged to marry another boy, Peter, who is a Resistance member, but never really finds out until the end of the book exactly how she died. Another important plot in the book is that the Johansen’s are close friends with a Jewish family, the Rosen’s. The Nazi’s had not begun tormenting or capturing and relocating Jewish families and people in Denmark until recently, and now they must all hide and leave or be sent away to concentration camps. The Johansen’s are able to smuggle the Rosen’s to safety just in time. In fact, all of Denmark came together to make sure that their Jewish residents were cared for as much as possible.

There are so many powerful themes flooding the pages of Number the Stars, but the one that highly impacted me was the loss of innocence. Ten-year-old Annemarie is very grown-up for her age, having to be due to the events that are occurring in her country. She tries to occupy her time playing little girl games, like races and paper dolls. The foot races are abruptly stopped in the beginning by a German soldier who interrogates her and her best friend Ellen about running in the streets and the paper dolls are set aside when she begins remembering her own sister’s death and the night that it occurred. She even cares and pampers her little sister, Kirsten – who really is the only character who maintains a childlike trait throughout the story – by making up fairytale stories, that Annemarie no longer believes in.

My, how Lowry can weave irony and satire into her novels! Denmark is at war, in a silent, resistant way, with Germany, and the girls are playing pretend with paper dolls that they have named after the characters of Gone with the Wind. Annemarie comments that pretending to play Gone with the Wind is so much more exciting than pretending with fairytales. That made me smirk, because I always pretend-played fairy tales, because it was a different country and time period for me. That is the very reason that Annemarie is pretend-playing Gone with the Wind, because of a change in location and characters. I also found it ironic how Gone with the Wind is about war, the Civil War, which ravishes the main characters’ homes and changes their lives forever, same as the characters in Number the Stars lives are changed forever by a home front war. It is also about the prejudice and mistreatment of African Americans, just as the prejudices and mistreatments of the Jewish community are being played out in Denmark during this time period.

Lowry has a way of weaving so many interesting historical facts and information into her works and makes the characters come alive right before the reader’s eyes. I wanted to be there, helping smuggle Jewish people to safety.

Who Was Thomas Jefferson?, by Dennis Brindell Fradin - Biography

As a teacher of third grade, the Standards of Learning dictate that I teach my students about various famous Americans, Thomas Jefferson being one of these. Until I began teaching about him, I must admit that I really didn’t know much at all about him, other than the fact that he was the third president of the United States and that he wrote the Declaration of Independence. Other than that, I was lost. Still, being a person who finds history fascinating, my husband, mother, and I planned a trip to Philadelphia, Pennsylvania about a year ago and immersed ourselves in United States history. I must say, that if surrounding yourself with United States history is your idea of a great time (like me), then go to Philly!

Who Was Thomas Jefferson? (TJ is what my third graders affectionately call him) is a chapter book biography. It begins with Jefferson’s entrance into the world and doesn’t end until his exit from the world. Throughout the book the reader learns about his character and the events that weaved themselves through his life and through history. In my opinion, he was a remarkable man. He was an avid reader who could sit and read for fifteen hours straight, without stopping to eat. Now, that is a reader! He was exceptionally self-motivated and determined to accomplish things in his life that he felt were good and honest things. He was shy and did not like to talk out in public, because he was said to not be a very good speaker, but he could write. Surprising me was the fact that he didn’t even really want to write the Declaration of Independence. Sure, he believed in freedom from what he considered the tyranny of England, he just thought that John Adams would be better for the job of writing such a paper. Yet, with a little flattery, Jefferson wrote the most important document in American history.

I have always been interested in his affairs with Sally Hemings, a slave that he owned, but had several children with. I never understood how someone can have a “love” relationship with a person and father children with them, and still keep them on as slaves until the end of his life. Even when Sally had the possibility of gaining hers and her child’s freedom by staying in France and not returning to Virginia with Jefferson, she still returned with him and had more of his children, remaining his slave until the end of his life. It was ironic to discover, through the reading, that Sally was the half-sister of Jefferson’s late wife. Though she was never recognized as a half-sister, the two women shared the same father. She was a product of an owner having an affair with one of his slaves, just as she and Jefferson did.

I have put this book, as well as another book of this type about Benjamin Franklin, in my Buddy Reading center and my students are reading it. I feel that it is written in a very tasteful and student friendly way and can be used as a read aloud if wanted.

But I'll Be Back Again, by Cynthia Rylant - Autobiography

I have learned that as I get to know an author’s craft and style of writing by reading several of their books, I feel close to an author and their life. Maybe it is that “fame” thing that movie stars and celebrities go through, but I find myself yearning to know more about the person who writes the books that have touched my heart in a special way. I want to know more about the moments and events in their life that have caused them to write the way that they do and to express an emotion through a story event or character that so closely relates to me and connects to my little spirit. I almost feel a kinship between the authors and myself and want to talk to them more. However, the only way that I can relate with them more is to read more of their books and to possibly see them at readings or by video interviews. The chances of me sitting down with them over coffee and them allowing me to listen as they pour out their life story upon my burning ears is more likely not going to happen. Therefore, my remedy for such a feeling is the autobiography.

I found myself laughing aloud and feeling like I was getting to know Cynthia Rylant in her autography. I found much of myself in that book, with Rylant’s experiences through life. This now makes perfect sense to me why I enjoy her books so much and find a friend and co-thinker when reading them. Sure, my parents never divorced and my mother never left me to live with my grandparents in a small mountain town for four years, but I still found myself in her hopes and dreams and reflections of life.

In my later years (and keep in mind that I am only 28 years old) I have grown very fond of The Beatles and their music. Raised by parents who were themselves brought up during the 50’s and on the King of Rock-n-Roll (Elvis), I never really listened to The Beatles. Their anti-war protests greatly outraged my Veteran father, so their music was not listened to. Now, I find myself humming songs of their’s randomly and listening to them as a drive to class. I can imagine when they first came out that their popularity was amazing. I, personally, was in love with Davy Jones from the Monkey’s and I am not ashamed to admit that he was my first love and I was sure that we would somehow meet and marry. Little did I know (being a child of the 80s), that Davy Jones in my time was old enough to be my father. That was a harsh reality that I had to face in my first ten or eleven years of life! I’m still trying to recover :)

It is interesting to me that Rylant had so many friends who were male. Throughout the book we find that her playmates and best friends were typically males and that those were the ones that she had most of her most intimate (and I don’t always mean sexual) conversations with. It does make the reader pause to ponder if she was trying in her own childlike way to make up for the lack of a male figure in her life with so many male friends. Her confidence around the opposite sex was amazing, as well, with her joking and talking about things with boys that most middle and high school girls struggle with. I sensed no awkward silences and situations for Rylant and her buddies throughout her autobiography; just a lot of goofing around and having fun.

The way that Rylant delivers her story to the reader does not make the reader feel sorry for her, but brings about the realization that her life was not easy and that she survived, with love and a curious nature. She did not have both parents (and for about four years, she didn’t have either parent) to raise her and support her. She did not have books to read about far away places and adventures of animals, objects and humans. Yet she lacked in no imaginative way. I heard a person ask Richard Peck during his interview in Washington, D.C. if he thought that in order to be a good writer you had to be raised in a good and supportive home by both parents. Peck’s response was along the lines of that being raised and supported by both parents was important, but that not all good writers had to have this. Around this time in the watching of the speech I was wondering what planet the woman who asked that ridiculous question was from. It is obvious that writers are born with a talent and that not all writers have that parental support and nurturing at home. Rylant found it in her grandparents and her friends and eventually her mother. She is a good writer, not because she had, but because she didn’t have. Now she is able to look back and reflect on her life and brings believable characters alive that feel and experience what she felt and experienced. That is what makes a great, not just a good, writer!

I Had Seen Castles, by Cynthia Rylant - Historical Fiction

Historical Fiction is a genre that I really have always enjoyed and continue to read often, and this book is one of the best that I have ever read. I was slow beginning it, because I was immediately overwhelmed with the “sad” feeling that existed throughout the novel. I did this with the fifth Harry Potter book several years back and finally picked it back up again and enjoyed it. Unfortunately, I probably would have put this book down for that very reason and may not have picked it back up again, ever, but class made me, and I am glad for that. I had to realize that the “sad” feeling that was disturbing to me in the beginning of the book (I really am a “happily-ever-after-kind-of-girl”) was part of the voice and tone that Rylant was trying to get across. The setting was after the Depression and right before, during, and after World War II. America did not want to enter another war so soon after experiencing World War I and the Great Depression. America was ready for some peace and serenity that wartimes never afford. However, America was plunged into this war with the bombing of Pearl Harbor and the realization that Nazi Germany was a far greater threat than they wanted to believe.

Rylant does an excellent job at allowing the reader to see the torn nature of our country during this time with the relationship between Ginny and John. John is a character who is much like boys of that time period, imagining that war will only last a little while and will bring glory and honor, not horror and a lifetime of nightmares and images. I saw this same attitude in Paul Fleischman’s Bull Run, with soldiers and women from both sides thinking that they were going to “teach those enemies” and be back in time for Christmas. It is always a lesson that is learned the hard way that war is not easy and does not get solved quickly. Still, generations never seem to learn from past mistakes and continue to enter into wars with the same feeling and enthusiasm again and again. It is not to long into the actual war that John realizes his mistaken notions and only longs to fight to survive.

Ginny is a “peace loving hippy” before her time. She stands for her ideals and yearns to believe that peace is possible. She views herself as an open-minded individual that doesn’t believe in war. I always find it interesting that the more open-minded we say we are, the more close-minded we become. Still, despite their differences, they loved each other and longed to be near each other.

I was disappointed that John never went to find Ginny after the war, but that would not have fit the story and the character development. John was not the same person that he was when Ginny knew him and loved him. John was meant to “grow into an old man” and try to forget the past. Unfortunately, Ginny was part of that past, even if not directly connected to the war. Therefore, she must also be pushed behind, never failing to haunt him throughout the rest of his life. I get the feeling John never married.

This book has continued to haunt me throughout my past days. I see the sheep in the field, grazing and soon slaughtered by bullets and the cow being lead away by the French farmer, only minutes before the deathly shooting is to begin. Such innocence is lost by war, leading me to ask: Isn’t there another way? However, this, too, leads me to ponder what Thomas Jefferson, “Resistance to tyrants is obedience to God”.

No More Homework! No More Tests!, collected by Bruce Lansky - Poetry Collection

The poetry anthology “No More Homework! No More Tests!” was a very humorous story that I have been reading aloud to my students, as well as, using in a poetry workstation in my classroom. My students love the book and have often requested certain poems by name that they would like me to read to the class. Often times it is the students who do not seem to enjoy reading as much who request the poems by name. Some of the poets featured in this anthology are Bruce Lansky (he is the one who put the book together), Shel Silverstein, and Jack Prelutsky, to name a few. The theme for all the poems deals with the “hardships” (and I use that term with a satirical voice) of being a student, and at times – a teacher, in school. All the poems have humorous undertones and make the reader either laugh at the joke or roll their eyes at the “cheesy” tales.

I personally found a laugh in the poem “Sick”, by Shel Silverstein. I can remember how on certain days I would just not want to get up and go to school. It wasn’t because I didn’t enjoy school, I just wanted to sleep in and be lazy. Now that I am a teacher, I can see the same things in my students, early in the mornings. They walk in and sometimes even complain of being sick and needing to go home, when really they are just tired and lagging into starting a new day. The speaker in this poem goes into great detail with a parent about how they are extremely sick (beyond understanding and need to go to the doctor right now for fear of death!) and cannot possibly go to school. This goes on until the end of the thirty-two lined poem, in which they realize that it is Saturday and suddenly feel better and well enough to go out and play! This makes me smile at the irony of trying to convince your parent that you are too sick for school, but when you realize it is the weekend, you are well, suddenly.

Though this book was written for an audience of children in mind, I can’t help but wonder if the poets were trying to “focus” children’s ethics a bit. In the poem “I Should Have Studied”, a student is watching the person beside them get their test paper back and the test paper has a big “F” on it. The only problem is, that student copied off of their neighbor’s paper, so they know exactly what grade they got, before they even receive it back. I love it! Great lesson for not cheating.

All of the poems are filled with puns and laughable situations that really are not exactly reality, but make one laugh to think that it could happen. Students are able to read it with partners or to themselves and find enjoyment.

On a side note, this would not be the only type of poetry that I would want to put in my poetry center or read aloud to students. After reading the chapter by Denise Johnson on poetry, I realize that students need to be exposed to all sorts of poetry, not just humorous, pun-filled poem anthologies, such as this one. Works by Fleischman and Rylant would be an excellent starting place to expose them to other works, as well.

Waiting to Waltz, A Childhood, by Cynthia Rylant and Illustrations by Stephen Gammell - Poetry

I guess, by now, I feel like a know Cynthia Rylant, on a friendly level. I feel like I have shared some of her memories as a child and laughed at some of the ironic occurrences. Rylant never ceases to strike the note of sincerity in me every time I read one of her books or works of poetry. She is a person who has really taken the time to analyze their own life and write about themselves. I wonder if this need to write was a psychological outlet for her, trying to deal with so many memories, both good and bad, from her childhood? Rylant’s collection of poems about her childhood, Waiting to Waltz, A Childhood, is no different. She manages to use simple words to convey so much meaning. In this collection, the simple words are so impactful that I don’t really think the illustrations are necessary. In fact, the illustrations took away from my reading, because at times they are a bit scary. I am not certain, but I do think that the illustrator, Stephen Gammell, was the illustrator for the books Scary Stories, and those frightened me as a child. Maybe that is why I would rather just read the simple, yet eloquent words, than look at the illustrations.

It is nice to read memoirs or poems about a person’s life, written by the person, so that I have a better understanding of how the characters in other books came about. I was revisited by Cletus (from Rylant’s book Missing May) in the poem titled “Pet Rock”. Roger was very much like Cletus, always hanging around and showing total devotion and interest in anything that Rylant wanted to do. Cletus was like this to Summer, constantly around her and Ob and not really taking the hint that he was not “liked”. Still, Cletus was aware to an extent of Summer’s feelings, as he didn’t really want to take her to meet his parents; for fear that they would recognize that Summer didn’t think as highly of him as they did. I bet Roger recognized this in young Cynthia, and like Summer, it took a bit of time for her to realize it, too.

It is good to know that children, for the most part, go through the same feelings and emotions that all other children go through. I believe that you can change the time period or the place and you would still have adolescents who go through feelings of needing to be accepted by their peers and wanting to be just like everyone else. The poem titled “PTA” really sounded this out, with Rylant obviously wanting to fit in and have her mother go to PTA meetings (which are a very boring experience, might I add!) and participate like the other mothers do. She does discover that her mother doesn’t have to go to PTA meetings to be important in the eyes of her peers when they turn to her after a classmate faints, because her mother is a nurse. I realize that we all judge ourselves more harshly than our peers typically do, and I think that Rylant realized this here, as well.

I found myself in some of the poems that were written and connected to what occurred in Rylant’s life. I am a Christian and have experienced some of the church incidents that Rylant experienced: I was scared after leaving a church that spoke tongues as a child and I have heard preachers who “yelled people to the Cross”. I can tell that Rylant does have a reverence for Christ, even if her opinion of “church” is not too high. She is an excellent writer who is very honest with her feelings.

Long Night Moon, by Cynthia Rylant and Illustrations by Mark Siegel - Poetry

I would definitely add Cynthia Rylant’s Long Night Moon to my collection of bedtime stories that I would enjoy reading to my own children one day. This single-illustrated poem combines a peace of nature while teaching the reader about a Native American ritual and the changing of the seasons. The charcoal illustrations are extremely beautiful and fitting to match the words of the poem and the theme of night. I can feel everything in this book, from the cold snow in February, the warmth of the June night, the rumble of thunder beneath my feet and all around me in July, and the nearness of the October Acorn Moon. Night is a time that many, children particularly and adults even at times, find difficult to overcome from the fear and trepidation of the “unknown”. This book washes away that unknown fear and almost makes the reader want to go out walking at night and do just what the jacket cover in my book says, “…stop and consider what might be revealed in one spot over one year by twelve unique and exquisite full moons?”. I can almost imagine myself around a Native American campfire, listening to the elders tell tales of the moons and the seasons. I thought it was fitting to have a mother figure holding a child at the beginning of the story and again at the end of the story, almost telling her little one the story of the moons (like ancient people in the past would have done) and how they relate to him/her. The reader feels like they are the little one, learning about the moons, but at the same time, we are an onlooker to an ancient ritual between the old and the young.

It is during the months of January and February that I always wish that I lived somewhere where it snowed, like in the illustrations with the Snow Moon for February. The house looks so tucked in for the night, with the blanket of snow all around it. My eyes are immediately drawn to the deer, with the cold breath being exhausted. It is a misconception that nature shuts down at sunset, because so many animals begin activity at that time of day. It is interesting to think about the Sun and Moon being sister and brother, as is mentioned in the Snow Moon.

I want to be outside under the big tree in June during the Strawberry Moon. The illustrations throughout the entire book are so captivating and Monet-like, with the essence of light being very poignant in the pictures. Still, this illustration, with the fireflies and great full-moon, really draws the reader to the understanding that there really shouldn’t be anything to fear during this night with this moon.

The Thunder Moon in July talks about “…trembling, shuddering, and disappearing in the thick black sky.” The light is still present in the illustrations, but the foreboding and uncertainty that comes with a thunderstorm is very obvious, with the moon hiding its friendly and safe face in the dark clouds.

The October Acorn Moon is so large and happy looking, lighting the way for nature and all the animals to find their way to safety in the crisp fall weather, before the dawn of winter. It almost looks as if a person could reach up high enough and touch the face of the moon.

Without the illustrations, I do not believe that this book would have been as powerful as it was. It would be interesting to conduct a visualization activity with students, using Long Night Moon. I would read the poem to them, without showing the pictures, and allow them to draw what they “see” in the words. Then, compare the illustrations by Mark Siegel to their own. Still, this may also be a good book to just enjoy and devour, as it lends itself to some very soothing and delicious imagery.

Feelings about Virginia Tech Tragedy

I once read that when a writer is upset….they write. That is how they know how to deal with their emotions that are raging inside of them. Katherine Paterson wrote Bridge to Terabithia from her own personal, emotional response to her son’s best friend’s death from a tragic strike of lightening. Eve Bunting recalled her sons quoting an E. B. White sentence about how sad it was that Charlotte died alone, after facing the death of his own, dear bunny. Well, I don’t profess to be a writer of greatness that could anywhere compare to Katherine Paterson, Eve Bunting, or E.B. White, but I have discovered that I am a writer of some sort and that is what I am going to do. I will write!

With the tragedy that has literally shaken our country occurring just days ago at Virginia Tech University, I feel that my soul longs to speak out about the feelings it is harboring inside. It is a yearning within me that has to be satisfied, and until quenched, I am rendered unable to write anything else. Sure, I have joined America in the endless watching of news reels and readings of newspaper articles, I have mourned the lost at services, and kept a silent vigil at moments of silence during the day. I have even worn Virginia Tech colors (something a Carolina Tarheels fan would not normally do) in memory of the tragedy, and I have joined into conversations with people for the sole intention of finding out more about the Tech situation from their own point of view. Did they know anyone? Did they find out something new? How were they connected? Because, you see, we were all connected, one way or another, to this tragedy that has made many tremble at the mere thought of this nightmare. We are all part of the human race, which makes us connected. We all look at the faces of the young and innocent, realizing the potential that lies in each life, and that makes us connected. We all fear a horror like this and hope to never see anything like this occur again, and that makes us connected. And we all search to understand how something as disturbing and monstrous as this could occur, not too far from where we take our own tests in quiet classrooms, and that makes us connected.

I thought that I was moving on from this tragedy, having discovered that the one person that I know who was taking an Engineering class in Norris Hall at the time of the shootings was safe and one his way home to be with his family. I was moving on, that is, until I read his message about being a survivor, after seeing the light of another day after this horrific event. He was in a classroom that happened to barricade their door only minutes before the shooter tried to enter, undoubtedly with the intent to take all of their lives. He wrote how at first they thought the gun shots were construction sounds, but when a girl in his class walked over to shut the door, looked out and saw a gun, she slammed the door and they all hit the ground under their desks. My friend that I know frantically screamed to barricade the door, but he, himself, was to terrified to move. Finally, some brave student quickly barricaded the door, only minutes before the shooter tried to enter and take their lives. He couldn’t get in, so he shot two bullets through the door, then went across the hall and slaughtered other innocent people. My friend, and his classmates that were innocently testing in that room that day, survived this tragedy by barricading the door only minutes before their life was to end. My question now is how do the survivors move on and continue living after this demonic event that almost cost them their lives?

I sit and try to write about Long Night Moon and other wonderful, sensory books that arouse feelings of calm and peace within the reader, but no calm and peace are found for me today. And no calm and peace will be found for many in the days, months, and years to come. I can not tell why these events occur. I can not tell when and if they will continue to occur. I can tell that life is precious and that we have so little time to truly live it out. Enjoy each breath, enjoy each view, enjoy each laugh, each love, each hand holding experience. Enjoy life and all it has to offer and do not let fear take it away from the living.

I began this with the intent to write away my pain and sorrow and I’m not sure that my goal was met. I began this with the intention to heal and I’m not sure that my goal was met there, either. Will we heal from this event in our lives? I don’t know. But we should live our lives with honor and goodness, if even only as a testimony to those who have lost their lives only days ago.

Joyful Noise, Poems for Two Voices, by Paul Fleischman - Poetry

Before taking this Children's Literature class, I had never heard of Paul Fleischman or any of his works. However, as of now, he is quickly becoming one of my favorite author's. In his previous works that I have read, "Seedfolks", "Bull Run", "Sidewalk Circus", and "Westlandia", I have seen an author who looks at life from so many points of views and seems determined to allow all different voices to be heard. His book of poetry "Joyful Noise, Poems for Two Voices" is no different. This Newbery Award winner takes the views of insects looking on the world and going about everyday life. The poems, purposefully written to be read by two people, working simultaneously together, would be an excellent addition to an elementary classroom. This could very easily fit into a science lesson on animal adaptions and habitats. The words and stanzas are very readable and can be easily understood by a child (even by children as young as second graders), whether it is read as a whole class, a choral reading, or by partners. The only poem that I would be hesitant about would be the "Honeybees" poem, because it has the word HELL in it. I would not take this book out of my class, but I would be cautious in telling the students that there is a word that is not acceptable to say at school in it. I do feel that this poem is an excellent example of the diversity within a bee hive (the Worker bee verses the Queen bee), but I wouldn't want them to be reading this poem and say the word aloud. While we are an open society and many try to fight censorship, I don't want to advocate my students to use profanity in my classroom or at school. An eight-year-old saying Hell in a poem isn't necessary.

Children are naturally interested in insects and science, and this is an excellent collection of poems by one author who has obviously sat and considered the world from an insect's point of view. I have sat and watched children collect bugs around the yard at school so that they could take it back to the classroom and "keep it for a pet". I am sure that students who consider a spider to be a great classroom pet would find enjoyment from this subject matter of insects.

I don't think that we humans stop to wonder what life is really like for insects, no more than we stop to wonder what life is like for other people in our community. The poem "Honeybees" reminded me of this. One bee thought that life inside a beehive was grand, because she only lead a luxurious life, while the other bee worked all the time and got little praise for his/her efforts. I think that the human life is like this. In our socioeconomic world, some people naturally do get more attention and treated like "Queen Bees" (if you will), while others are constantly working and trying to survive, while treated like nobodies! When I analyze my own life, I have to say that I usually feel like a Queen Bee, but on days when I have Parent-Teacher Conferences, Report Cards due, children to teach, a gym to try to get to, a family to tend for, and classwork to catch up on, I feel like a Worker Bee. Still, I know that so often in life people, like single mothers, are working possibly two jobs (if not more) and still trying to spend time with their children, don't get the credit they deserve.

The poem "Water Striders" made me smile, because I saw them as little children, saying how easy it is to walk on water and not understanding why their "students" always sink beneath the surface on their first attempt. So many times I have heard my third graders say that something, a task or new learning skill, is easy, not realizing that what is easy to one may not be easy to another.

I had to remind myself half-way through the book that the author was Paul Fleischman and not Cynthia Rylant. I have grown so use to reading these two author's works together, that I realize that they have alot of similarities. They both point out the ironies of life, as Fleischman did in this book with the different points of views of the characters. They also write about nature and all it's many glorious (and not so glorious) facets. Some people may not be excited to read a book from an insect's point of view, but Fleischman did, and it worked wonderfully.

The illustrations are beautifully done, using what I would think is just pencil drawings. They are simple and just right, fitting into the theme of it being about simple creatures, insects. The two symmetrical insects on the front-matter and back-matter are an interesting twist to the fact that two voices are meant to read this book together.

The Watsons go to Birmingham - 1963, by Christopher Paul Curtis - Historical Fiction

This is the second time in my life that I have read this book to myself and it makes me laugh anew each time. Last time I read it I was an undergraduate in college, again taking a Children’s Literature class, and laughed with hilarity at the beginning with Byron getting stuck to the frozen mirror because he was trying to practice kissing himself. The interesting part to that was that the reader was never really introduced to any girls that Byron was really “kissing” except that time that Bryon’s mom was telling him about staying in Alabama for a while and she mentioned the “problem with Mary Ann Hill” as one in the list of things that Byron had been doing wrong in Flint. I guess that the cold mirror really did teach Bryon a lesson for a little while. 

The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963 is a powerful book that highlights a particularly sad and confusing time in American history, but adds some humor and irony in, as well. Curtis seems to be a master at this, taking a sad time in history, showing that time from a different perspective than history books probably did, but adding touches of the human spirit and laughter into the sullenness and sorrow of the events. The reader sees a family, the Watsons (or the Weird Watsons, as the neighbors say) that is just like the picture of any family in America back in the 60s. Mr. Watson works hard to provide for his family, but manages to spend important time with them, as well, joking, laughing, and watching cartoons with them on Saturday mornings. Mrs. Watson is a stay at home mom who raises the children, takes care of the finances in the household, and makes sure there is a good dinner on the table each night. Byron is the rebellious oldest child, constantly pushing the limits and bullying his younger brother (except when the situation really is bad or life threatening). Kenny is the “Peter” character from the Brady Bunch in the Watson household, really not fitting in, because he is not tough like his older brother and enjoys learning and playing make-believe. Then there is Joetta; the precious little girl who everyone loves. Your “typical, Leave-it-to-Beaver, American” family, except….they’re not white, they are African-Americans. I love the irony that Curtis plays with this, because at that time (and unfortunately, sometimes even now) people thought that only a certain race acted decent and typical. How wrong that is! Who wouldn’t want to be a part of the Watson family? I know that I would.

As a reader, I had a hard time determining who the African American people were and who the Caucasian people in Flint, Michigan were. There seemed to be no boundaries between the races and everyone seemed to get along perfectly fine. The only time that that issue was brought up was when Mrs. Davidson, a neighbor, came to give Joey an angel miniature before the family left to go to Birmingham. The angel was a white figure and that obviously bothered Joey, but she handled the situation in a very lady-like manner that made me as the reader proud of her. However, with the downward drive into Alabama and the rest of the South, things began getting very segregated and the reader could tell that there was a difference in safety and feelings between the two parts of the country at that time. Kenny said that he couldn’t understand why adults didn’t want a little girl to go to school (Ruby Bridges) and I can’t either. To be honest, I would have felt afraid sending my “delinquent teenager” into Alabama for the summer, much less the school year, with all the hatred being shown towards children and people of the African American race. Once again, a very sad time in our country.

Flint, Michigan had changed a lot in the time frame between the book Bud, Not Buddy and The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963. When Bud was around, people were still showing racism and hatred due to skin tones and now, with the Watson’s, it is difficult to detect even a bit of hatred and difference. There is also a mention of Uncle Bud several times in the story, which lead me to fantasize that Bud made it into manhood, began a family, and was living life well. Still, there was not a mention of Herman E. Calloway and the Dusty Devastators of the Depression, which you would expect if someone was very important in your family.

Curtis’ craft is to draw a reader in with laughter and humorous situations, and then to “hit them” with the seriousness of the time period. That allows reader’s emotions to be on the raw and to really get the point across. It is almost like sitting in church and listening to a great preacher deliver a funny sermon, to get the congregation focused and listening, and then driving the point home about a more serious issue. Before you know it, you are analyzing and searching your soul about something that moments before you weren’t really thinking about or even near to pondering. I like how Curtis works his craft in this way.

The Watsons Go to Birmingham – 1963 is a strong story that probably would have been banned decades ago, but is opening the eyes of adults and children alike in today’s day and time about the disease of hatred that racism can cause. Our country has come a long way and I hope that it continues to move in a more progressive direction.

Bull Run, by Paul Fleischman - Historical Fiction

How many times must we humans go to war before we realize that war is not the answer to so many of our problems? That is the question that I was continuously asking myself as I read Bull Run. I have found myself in earlier years obsessed with reading John Jakes series about the Civil War in America and the relationships that were torn apart and literally shot at because of different opinions and people desiring to make money. Bull Run was no less a novel at inspiring me that war was and is evil. I do find it interesting that so many of the people who were in the Civil War were shapers of our great country today. Many of the men who were commanding officers and generals studied beside each other at West Point and later fought beside each other in the Mexican-American War. You would think that these men who had been companions in such life changing situations would not fight against each other or be used by politicians and the wealthy to reenact blood slaughter and sorrow that they know war causes. It is usually the innocent who are harmed in war and not the guilty. No, the guilty stay safely hidden away while informing the innocent to do their deadly bidding for them. I was again surprised by the irony I saw within the characters of Bull Run. Many of them sought to seek glory from war, to make a name for themselves, just like our notorious Custer who certainly was predicted to do great things (as Edmund Upwing informed the readers!). That same bravery that won Custer the name of being a hero and a courageous man also cost him and many others their lives when his pride became too large, in later life.

It still amazes me how many think at the beginning of a war that the war will be over in weeks, maybe at the latest, months. I remember our nation thinking this when we went to war with Iraq in 2002. We are now in 2007 and we still have soldiers and civilians being killed in a war that is in a land that most of us will never visit. The people also thought that war was a pretty situation. I found a sad hilarity in Flora Wheelworth’s eldest daughter running after the train telling her husband not to soil his coat and supplying him with all the things that he would need in the war: a razor, a mirror, a hairbrush, a nail file, calfskin slippers, and a fine suit of clothes to be saved for his triumphant entry into Washington. Later on in the book we find out that this man was wounded and that it was uncertain if he lived or not. I guess that no amount of toiletries preparation can prepare a person for the entrance into a deadly war.

Gideon Adams was one of my favorite characters in Bull Run, because he knew why he was fighting and was a courageous man to fight for his freedom. Now days we teach students that the Civil War was fought to free slaves, because the North housed people who didn’t believe in slavery. I am sure that that is a true statement for some people, but not for everyone in the North. Also, not everyone in the South believed slavery was right. The irony in Gideon wanting to fight and being told to go home because this was a “white man’s war” is outrageous but very true for that time. The Civil War for some was to free slaves and to ensure that all in our country are treated equally, but for many more it was fought to make bank accounts larger and to prove a point that one section of the country was better than the other (almost like at a sports event).

My heart went out to Shem Suggs, the orphan who only felt at home with horses. He did not want to kill people for one cause or another. He wanted to be near horses and to possibly have his own. I can imagine that after the battle of Bull Run that he buried the horses, who had been killed, with reverence and with solemn tears. This is a man who knew that relationships were worth more than wars and the only time he shot someone was to protect Greta, his horse (and to an extent – family member).

If righteous people step back and don’t speak up, it is the evil and greedy people who will take over in our world. It is up to the righteous and intelligent people in the world to say that we need to find a better way than fighting, a better way than innocents being killed, and a better way than war in general. War. Is it a necessary evil, or just a evil?

Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, by William Steig - Picturebook

Sylvester and the Magic Pebble is a fun little book that can be used to teach many lessons in life. Sylvester is a curious little donkey who enjoys picking up stones for his collection at home. He happens upon a very bright, red stone one day and discovers that it can grant any wish he asks for, as long as he is holding the stone when he makes the wish. Unfortunately, on his way back home to show his family the magical stone, Sylvester happens upon a hungry lion and without thinking of the consequences, he wishes himself to be a rock. Consequently, he stays this way for a whole year, with his parents despairing and continuously looking for their precious Sylvester.

As mentioned earlier, several lessons can be learned from this book. First, be careful what you wish for. Sylvester is so excited to get home to show his family the stone, that when he comes across that hungry lion, he wished himself into a rock instead of far away from the danger of the lion. That wish, without thinking, cost him a whole year of his life, because he was a depressed rock instead of a happy donkey with his family. We can learn from Sylvester’s mistakes and be cautious about what we wish for. Granted, we do not have a magical stone, but we do make wishes that sometimes come true, all the same. Another lesson that one could learn from this book would be to enjoy and be satisfied with what we have in life and not to try and “wish for better things”. Sylvester was going to take the magic stone home to allow his family and friends to all wish for better things in life than they already had. However, at the end of the story, Sylvester and his family learn that they already have everything that they could want by just having each other. Therefore, the stone gets put in an important safe and kept if needed in the future. So often in life we want other things in our lives and seem to be dissatisfied with what we have. Perhaps if we stopped wishing for other things that we don’t have and begin being thankful for the things that we do have, life will be more joyful. I do pause to wonder what kind of damage could have been done with that magical stone if Sylvester had not learned his lesson before the rock incident.

This picture book won the Caldecott award for it’s illustrations. The pictures are simple and look to have been done using colored pencils and watercolors. The pictures have several whole page layouts (the starry sky, all the dogs looking for Sylvester, the winter scene with the wolf howling on Sylvester the rock, and the fall with the changing of the leaves). These scenes seem to be scenes where Sylvester is in despair and experiencing some form of anxiety (his first night alone under the starry sky, the dogs looking for him right where he is, but never realizing that he is a rock, and the changing of the seasons allowing him to realize the severity of his situation because time is passing without anyone finding him). There are two little vinettes, with Sylvester finding the stone and discovering it’s powers and the lion looking confused because he thought he saw a donkey, but finds a rock instead. These pictures are only used when a character or characters are under a situation of confusion (Sylvester with the stone and the lion with the rock). The rest of the illustrations are outlines with a white cloudlike border.

The illustrator also used lines to show dangerous situations. For example, in the rainstorm, the rain is coming down in vast diagonals and the tree even looks to be leaning to the right of the page, causing a sense of anxiety and disturbance for the reader. However, when Sylvester wishes the rain away, the tree is now upright (vertical) and the rest of the landscape is seen with many horizontals and verticals.

The fantasy genre of this story comes through with the talking animals and animals that act just like humans. The adult animals all wear clothing (Sylvester’s dad wears a suit for an office like job and his mother wears a house dress for keeping house). The pig policemen even have on uniforms with badges and hats. All the children, incidentally, have no clothing on. Maybe this points out the innocence of childhood and the conformity of adulthood. However, the mean lion is also not wearing any clothing. I wonder what this could signify. The existence of the magic stone also calls the reader to the understanding that this is a fantasy book, with the stone being an everyday object turned into a magical object that can grant wishes to the holder.

The title page has Sylvester sitting on a rock, holding the magic stone, and looking at it. That would be a great place to draw attention to the fact that the magical stone caused a lot of problems, but is still kept in a safe in the Duncan household. What would happen if ten years from now they decided to take it out and test it’s powers? Would they remember the despair it caused in the past? Would you remember this despair if granted a magical stone?

When I Was Young In The Mountains, by Cynthia Rylant and Illustrations by Diane Goode - Picturebook

What a peaceful life, Cynthia Rylant paints, of being young in the mountains! I find myself wanting to be in that home, in those mountains, swimming in the muddy and dark swimming hole, eating corn bread, pinto beans, and fried okra, and walking to Mr. Crawford’s to get a mound of white butter. Life seemed incredible, like you could taste all types of flavors, smell all types of fantastic mountain smells, and just enjoy being alive. I always find it very interesting to think back on my own childhood with cherished memories of different types of activities that I lived through. I lived by the sea, so my book would have to be titled When I Was Young By The Sea. Still, I could write about catching fish on the surf and then grilling them for dinner that night, walking down after a storm and collecting the most beautiful shells one has ever seen, or watching a storm roll into shore in the late summertime before dashing back home to safety! I am sure those memories of mine are as important to me as Rylant’s memories are to her of being young in the mountains. It is interesting to note, however, that a child will view life so differently than adults, for she may have been very poor when she was young in the mountains, but never even realized it. Our memories can make us the richest people alive at that time in our life and even when we think back as adults and realize that the reason we were only eating corn bread, pinto beans, and okra was because meat was too expensive for our family at that time, we don’t really care. We are still rich with all the memories that will live in our minds forever!

When I Was Young In The Mountains reminds me of Missing May. Sure, Missing May was a sad book about trying to overcome depression and loss after a loved one has passed away and When I Was Young In The Mountains is about all the glorious occurrences that came with growing up in the mountains, but I am sure that Summer must have lived a life like this before May died. Therefore, no wonder Summer had such a difficult time adjusting after May’s death and trying to move on with life.

When I read this book I am reminded of how memories feel. The illustrator has cast every picture with a white cloud around it, almost like you are viewing it from someone else’s memory that comes to us directly from their mind, not merely from a photo album. The pictures are simple with no glamorous shining colors. The colors are pastels and a bit dull. Even the light in the pictures only cast a white orb around the objects that are causing the flame (like in the memory picture with the grandmother walking the little girl to the outhouse, the candle has a white circle around it to show that light is existing). Through the illustrations the reader can almost sense the serenity that must exist by living in these mountains with these grandparents. Life is simple. Life is pleasant. Life is slow. Life is good. This can also be seen in the lack of circular or wavy lines in the illustrations. The lines are more vertical and horizontal, leading the reader to understand that life is not chaotic and fast, but slow and peaceful. There is also a use of dark colors when danger or fear could be protruding (when grandmother was killing the black snake in the garden and walking to the outhouse in the dark) and lighter pastel colors when all is right in the world (at night shelling beans, holding the now dead black snake for a picture, baptisms, and walks to Crawford’s Country Store).

Rylant has shared a precious part of her life with us through what I like to call her “memory picture album”. She has trusted that we readers will not laugh at her memories and experiences as a child and I thank her for sharing!

On a final note, I find it interesting that this was Cynthia Rylant’s first book that she wrote and it won a Caldecott Award. Sure, the Caldecott award is given for the illustrations, but I do not think that this book would have had the illustrations without the words that accompanied them. The words and the illustrations match, and that is what makes an excellent picture book. I also found it ironic that Chris Van Allsburg’s first book The Garden of Abdul Gasazi was awarded a Caldecott award. It was like God was trying to tell these authors and illustrators that they have finally found their place in life and that writing and illustrating it what they were meant for. That must be an excellent feeling and place in life to be in.

Through The Looking Glass, by Lewis Carroll - Fantasy

Lewis Carroll’s Through the Looking Glass is an extension to Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, with Alice being a little bit older and the time period set in the winter months instead of the spring. Through age has touched Alice, she still is the same little girl yearning to explore into places that she has never been before. Alice enters into a new world where everything is backwards, because she walked into it from a mirror or looking glass. Outside she finds the same realistic setting as the reader experienced in Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland, but soon is introduced to fantastic and extraordinary characters. The flowers talk about soil softness and hardness and Alice is instantly entered into a game of chess, in which her very movement is a play on an enormous chess board that spans the country of “Look Glass”. I was reminded of C. S. Lewis’s The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe with Mr. Tumus telling Lucy that she was from the world or “Spare-om”. Just as Lucy entered Narnia through a door in a wardrobe, Alice entered into the world of Looking Glass through a looking glass, or mirror. C. S. Lewis places his main characters in dangerous situations constantly throughout his novel, yet Lewis Carroll only allows his Alice to be in safe, yet absurd, settings.

To the analytical reader, Carroll leaves little tid bits of information here and there through the novel. He allows Alice to see the sad hilarity of war in the battle between the Lion and the Unicorn. Here the reader sees two creatures “chivalrously” fighting each other. They battle a little and then decide to stop for tea and sandwiches while picnicing beside one another. They even share a plum-cake together. Then, they pick up the battle and begin fighting again. The creatures are fighting for a kingship which already belongs to another king. Oh how we humans in this century and in the centuries past could learn from this. War is a sad hilarity. I was posed the question by a young person several weeks ago of how it is we can get together to discuss the “ethics” of war between warring nations, but we can not get together to cause war to cease. Are we nations around the world still entertaining the sad hilarity of war by acting out as the Lion and the Unicorn?

Carroll’s portrayal of the queens (both Red and White) showed ironic humor, as well. Both queens seem to be more interested in keeping with traditions and being seen as “well brought up” than actually doing anything with their lives. They in fact fall asleep in Alice’s lap, thinking only of curling their hair, going to a feast, and then going to a ball. I do wonder if Lewis’ disenfranchised feeling about the Red Queen and the White Queen could have come from a similar feeling about England’s monarchy at the time.

How hilarious and infuriating Humpty Dumpty is in this book. I always felt sorry for him in my Mother Goose books growing up, but in Looking Glass land he is anything but delightful to be around. He shows signs of bigotry and racism that may have been prevalent in English society of that day (and unfortunately is still present in some forms today). He is absolutely ridiculous; spouting off about how if he falls the king and all his men will save him and how incredibly handsome he is! He seems to not realize that he is just an egg and no matter how many men will come after his fall, once broken, always broken. I have met some people as egotistical as Humpty Dumpty.

Through the Looking Glass seems to have a more lessons to learn in it than Lewis’ other fantasy novel Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland. Wonderland was fun and delightful, while Looking Glass land was more mysterious and not so funny. It is almost as if Alice is growing up and loosing her sense of fantasy and imagination that little girls have and moving on into more adult-like situations, with a little extraordinary added to them. I prefer Wonderland with its silly adventures than land of Looking Glass to its lesson learning events.

Alice's Adventures in Wonderland, by Lewis Carroll - Fantasy

What little girl, once reading about Alice and her adventures in Wonderland, did not want to be Alice? I know that I did. I went through a phase in life when I was little when I desired to drink hot tea from a teacup (just like Alice did at the Mad Hatter’s tea party), where I wanted and pretended to find and eat a little cake labeled “Eat Me” and a little potion labeled “Drink Me” that would turn me to all sorts of sizes, and where I would wonder around the trees in my back yard trying to figure out a way to “fall in” if a certain white rabbit with a time piece should just happen along my path. I wanted to be Alice and to enjoy all the little adventures that she enjoyed. I remember that feeling of disappointment every time I ate a little cake that I was convinced would change my size, and discovered that I was still exactly how I was prior to the “magical” cake. Still, now as a grown-up, I still occasionally look at life through Alice’s eyes. She was a little girl who desired to fill her daydreams and days with mischief and adventure, something that we grown-ups become to “mature” for, but always long to return to. I have always found it interesting that adults cast off children’s imaginations as young and inexperienced. Well, if experience is what causes us to quit believing in that magical place called Wonderland, let me live as innocent a life as possible. Ironically, when I visit homes that house the elderly who are not to long from this world, their imaginations (at least) seem to be back and working in excellent order. We can choose to look at it with sadness or realize that their last days or years will not be filled with the fear of nuclear war, dying family members, peer approval or disapproval, etc. For them, life is different. For them the Mad Hatter has revisited, as well as the White Rabbit, the Cheshire-Cat, the Queen of Hearts (“Off with her head!”), and the Dormouse. Perhaps we “responsible adults” should learn from the very young and the very old and look at the world through the eyes of Alice.

Lewis Carroll wove a delectable fantasy story with his Alice and her Wonderland. Even with Walt Disney stepping in to ruin many children’s opportunities to read the story before seeing the story, I found myself wanting to keep reading and not put the book down (much like Alice wanting to see more and more of this “backwards” Wonderland). Carroll interwove fantasy into real life events and settings. Wonderland was played out in an English Garden, but things in the garden were extraordinary. A cat could talk and give mysterious directions, a caterpillar could make suggestions about how to grow back to a normal size, and a normal tea party would be turned abnormal with a bossy Mad Hatter, sleepy Dormouse, and a stingy March Hare. The reader goes through a series of believing in Wonderland events and settings, only to be introduced to a new Wonderland creature that has human personalities.

One should not read Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland without researching a little bit about Lewis Carroll’s life and my book afforded me the opportunity to read more about this man. He was the oldest son with eleven children in his household (usually the oldest son or child in general leads a life of perfectionism and constantly trying to succeed). He was also given the name Charles Lutwidge Dodgson at birth (such an “adult”name) and studied at Christ Church College of Oxford University, where he later taught mathematics and published works of mathematics under his Charles Lutwidge Dodgson name. However, he took on the pseudonym “Lewis Carroll” and published his fantasy works under that name. He was a man who could travel in either reality worlds of mathematics or fantasy worlds of Wonderland. He was a man who defied the idea of “growing up” by creating works such as Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and Through the Looking Glass. In other words, he was a true Peter Pan character acting in a Wendy character’s body. Carroll chose to spend time with young girls (in what the author termed an “innocent relationship”) and met a particular Alice Liddell who seems to have inspired the main character of our Alice (Lin, 2004).

Wonderland seems like a fantastical place and to we who defend the “reality of life” ideas, it is a fantastical place filled with mischief and nonsense. However, I do pause to wonder (no pun intended), if Wonderland was real, even if only to Carroll and to little children everywhere who are still searching for that enchanted rabbit hole!

Bud, Not Buddy, by Christopher Paul Curtis - Historical Fiction

For all of those in my class who took a quick intake of breath when I said that I just wasn’t “wowed” by Bud, Not Buddy, I did finish the book and I did find enjoyment out of it. To be honest, I felt like the book was slow starting. I was dragging through reading it, because I just couldn’t shake the feeling that the book was never ending and Bud was never going to get to where he was trying to go. I was a bit confused throughout the book as well. I kept thinking that Bud’s mother had committed suicide due to being unhappy about seeing Herman E. Calloway on those band flyers. I also kept wondering how Bud became so intelligent (such a good reader) if his mother was the one who read to him and he was only six-years-old when she died. That is still a question that I have yet to answer in my mind of “I Wonder” questions, but that’s ok, because Bud, Not Buddy turned out to be a masterpiece in the end.

I really didn’t get interested in this book until Bud met Lefty Lewis. I guess I was just disenfranchised with the fact that so many people were being so terrible to Bud. My interest beginning around the time that Bud met Lefty Lewis parallels with the fact that Bud’s life really didn’t get “started” until Lefty found him all alone on that dark road, trying courageously to reach Grand Falls. It seemed that Bud had a life he recalled with semi-happiness with his mother, then life stopped for him after his mother died, and then life began again when Left Lewis picked him up and cared for him. I think that Bud was just as much confused about his own life as I was about his life. Therefore, when Bud began discovering things about his own life, I also began discovering things. Christopher Paul Curtis has obviously employed this style or craft in writing in order to draw the reader into the events of the story and to bond with the characters. I was certainly feeling very protective of Bud by the end of the book and wanted to call the authorities on the Amos’. How dare they lock a child in a dark shed that was home to hornets and fish heads with teeth! Todd Amos reminded me of Dudley in Harry Potter, torturing innocent children with bullying tactics and getting spoiled rotten by his parents (his mother in particular). I have unfortunately met some children like this and I just sit back and think, “Their mothers are taking up for them now, but what are they going to do with them when they turn that bullying on their mothers?”

Bud was a genius for his age. He could analyze situations and people better than I ever could at that time in my life and come up with intelligent sayings to base his life upon. How in the world he remembered all the rules in his “Bud Caldwell’s Rules and Things for Having a Funner life and Making a Better Liar Out of Yourself” is beyond my understanding. Sometimes those rules made me laugh and other times I wanted to say, “Don’t do that!”. Still, I never really caught Bud out-right lying, just holding back the truth in some situations. This is a skill that adults use often, and Bud had mastered it before he graduated from middle school. Only Bud could put into words so “elegantly” the saying, “There comes a time when you’re losing a fight that it just doesn’t make sense to keep on fighting”. There is pure wisdom in that statement. If only I had realized that when I was a teenager and quit fighting against everyone and anyone who I felt was trying to “control me” and “take my freedom away”.

I found it very fitting that Herman E. Calloway was Bud’s grandfather. Curtis was acting the part of Charlotte in “Charlotte’s Web” and weaving a web of interesting evidence for the reader and Bud alike. Just like Charlotte’s webs and words of praise for a pig named Wilbur, Curtis’ web allowed just the right evidence and pieces of the story to come at the right time. I could see how Herman was very strong willed (much like Bud could be, I’m sure) and held onto material things about his daughter (just like Bud did with his suitcase and things that reminded him of his mother). I can understand why Herman was hard on Bud’s mother and wanted her to go to college. He was a proud, self-made man and wanted the best for his family. I know now why drummers didn’t stay to long at Grand Calloway Station. If Bud’s mother ran off with a drummer (Bud’s father), I’m sure that that left a bitter taste in Herman’s mouth for that specific type of musician. It really is a very sad story, with Bud’s mother being unhappy because she missed her father and Herman being unhappy because he missed his daughter. This sadness and despair was a prevalent feeling during the time of the Great Depression. It really was one of America’s saddest times. Families were torn apart (some never mended and met up again), children were hungry and starving to death, places like Hooverville sprang up all over, and still, people could not except the grand basic principal written long ago in our Constitution that all are created equal and that segregation was insane (so the last part about segregation wasn’t written, but it really should have been inferred long ago)!

Bud, Not Buddy is an exceptional work of Historical Fiction that weaves many interesting themes, characters, and historical events into the text. I would like to believe that our country has come far from the depression and hatred that was witnessed in American personalities at that time, but have we? That is a question that all of us should ponder and judge, at least in our own lives.

Mufaro's Beautiful Daughters, by John Steptoe - Traditional Literature

Mufaro’s Beautiful Daughters contains the major characteristics of a fairytale in that there is a problem to be solved, an evil or no-good character, royalty, and a character that “shines’ with goodness. In this story there is a kind man who lives in a village and he has two beautiful daughters, Manyara (mean-hearted) and Nyasha (kind-hearted). One day the king summons the two daughters, because he is going to pick a wife from between the two of them. Manyara rushes ahead, secretly, and is mean to those she meets on the way. Nyasha comes later and is greeted at the castle by her screaming sister saying that an evil, five-headed snake is waiting on the throne. Nyasha goes in anyway and finds her friend, a little snake (Nyoka) who then turns into the king. He tells her that he is pleased with her and wants to marry her. Hr sister, Manyara, becomes a servant in the “Queen’s” household.

The themes that resound over and over again in this story are that goodness conquerors evil. This is shown when Manyara is rude and mean to her sister and the objects or people she meets on her way to the city. Nyasha, on the other hand, always puts the feelings and concerns of others above her own, which pleases the king who disguises himself as a little snake, a hungry little boy, a woman in the woods, and trees. Nyasha cares for the young, listens and respects the wisdom of the older people, and is kind to nature.

The theme of not being greedy rings throughout the story, with Manyara trying to greedily become the queen by starting out in the middle of the night, without her sister, refusing to feed a hungry child her own food, and her all around attitude towards her sister in taunting her to say that “she will be queen” and her sister will be a servant in her household. Nyasha gives constantly of herself and in doing so, proves that she would make a kind and benevolent queen, which is exactly what the king wants.

As a child, I was brought up on reading about Cinderella, her evil step-sisters, how she made the prince fall in love with her, and eventually lived happily ever after. I found it interesting to discover an “African Cinderella” version. I also found it refreshing that Nyasha (Cinderella) was not abused so roughly by her sister (Manyara), but it is easy to see that Manyara does have characteristics of an antagonist (greed, rudeness, bragging, etc.). I know some Manyaras (usually they are trying to cover up for some deficiency that they feel about themselves by picking on others) and at times I worry that I may act like a Manyara. It is easier to relate and connect to the antagonist character when they are simply greedy or mean-spirited. In a lot of the other Cinderella versions, the antagonist is abusive and neglectful. In this story the reader is able to see that the sometimes hidden evils of greed and jealously are just as bad and lurking as the other more abusive and neglectful evils. They are more dangerous in a sense, because they root within a person’s soul and plant themselves deep. Greed and envy are very difficult to overcome, but are very prevalent in our world. I can better relate with this version of Cinderella, because I see greed and envy everyday and this story reminds me to fight against it whether it is manifested in me or in some other facet of life.

Great Children's Stories, by Rand McNally - Traditional Literature Collection

I found this Traditional Literature Collection of stories and discovered myself going back into my childhood when my mother use to read stories of sly foxes, innocent little chickens, and house building pigs to me. I found this book and was overjoyed, because it instantly reminded me of how far in my reading journey I have gotten and where I came from. I found this book buried away with some other books that I didn’t remember having as a child, and realized that a friend at the time gifted me with this book for my fifth birthday party. Now, I am sure that I was not as overjoyed with this gift then, as I am today, but I am sure that her mother knew in the back of her mind that I would one day need this book, whether to bring back the memories of simpler times, or to write a reading response journal on (ha!). I have no idea where the gift giver or her mother are today, but “thank you” for enriching my literary library!

The collection Great Children’s Stories start off with an Introduction by Irene Hunt, who goes into great lengths as to how the stories came to be written down. She tells us that the original stories were “told orally” or “sung” to audiences. Over the years, a twist or exaggeration seems to have been added to the characters, events, problems, and solutions. I can see this in the story of The Three Little Pigs. This story does seem to add a little bit of “happiness” to the story, possibly veering away from the idea of death and pain. In this version, all three little pigs live (running from one blown down house to the next) and in the end, the pigs make the fire so hot in the chimney, so the wolf just decides not to go down it and leaves, never returning. Now, as an adult and having read many different versions and fractured-versions of The Three Little Pigs, I would wonder why the wolf gave up so easily. I mean, he went to all the trouble to blow down a straw house and a stick house, that to turn and walk away from a hot chimney does not seem to fit his character. I pause to wonder if this is the author’s way of making things less scary for children. To be honest, the thought that the wolf may just decide to come back any minute and eat the unsuspecting pigs would give me nightmares as a child. Besides, are the pigs supposed to stay in the brick house forever? That would be a sad and unhappy life, even from a pig’s point-of-view, I would think.

I found that some of the stories were “sing-song” in style (makes sense, due to the original versions probably being sung before an audience who may or may not have joined in) and repetitive. The Old Woman and Her Pig is a prime example of this. An old woman goes to the market (after finding a sixpence while sweeping the floor) and buys a pig (very cause and effect situation going on here). On the way home, she can not get the pig to get over the stile, so she asks the help of wayward travelers (a dog, a stick, fire, water, an ox, a butcher, a rope, a rat, a cat, and finally a cow) who all refuse help until the cat tells her he will help if she gives it a saucer of cream, from the cow. The story is repetitively added to and then works itself backwards until the old woman and her pig finally get home. That old woman does tend to be a bit bossy to those she meets on the road, however, and brutal as well. There is a lot of biting and beating requested on her part in order to get each wayward traveler to do her bidding. As an adult, I now pause to reflect that there may be a reason this old woman seemed to be living alone with now only a pig to keep her company. Maybe she is just too bossy to live with!

Often times a fox or a wolf are seen as creatures of evil and meanness. The story of The Travels of a Fox is an example. Here we have a fox who catches a bumblebee and puts it in a bag. He then leaves the bag with another person, who opens the bag and lets the bumblebee out. Therefore, the Fox takes the person’s pig. This happens throughout the story, with Fox taking something bigger and bigger each time, until he takes a little boy and plans on eating him for dinner. However, an older mother figure saves the little boy, replaces him in the bag with the house dog, and when Fox goes to open the bag the house dog eats Fox instead. I wonder if this story came about by ancient people who were growing tired of being taxed by their kings and government officials. They may have felt like the king was taxing them so much that eventually he would take their child. Perhaps the end, with the fox getting what he deserved, is what they wish would have happened to their “taxing government”.