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The Luckiest Leprechaun

I got this book for St. Patty’s Day and have read it several times since. This “tail-wagging tale of friendship” is a satisfying tale of two unlikely friends: a leprechaun and a dog. Written by Justine Korman, the leprechaun is, of course, small and constantly hiding from treasure hunters determined to find his gold. MacKenzie O’Shamrock outwits them every time though, as he proclaims to the reader with several uses of exclamation marks! He is a passionate character with a strong personality. The author portrays him in a humorous and sarcastic way, but Mac is serious all the time, even as he cobbles shoes for the fairies. On the other hand there is Lucky, a gentle and loving dog who unexpectedly destroys the roof to Macs house. Lucky is determined to make it up to Mac, who doesn’t want anything to do with the “mangy mortal.”

Without giving too much away, I can say that this is a fantastical story with a talking dog and fairies that show Mac what friendship is all about, and how lonely he didn’t know he was. Having the little prince on my mind, I can say that Lucky “tamed” Mac and took responsibility for taking care of him, even when his gold was in danger. The illustrations were done in paints and colored pencils using vivid colors. More than anything else, the strong color of Kelly green comes across throughout the book, very representative of Irish ties. This would be a wonderful read aloud for younger audiences, and would be made even better with an Irish accent.

The Little Prince

This is the story I read for my literary analysis, and now that I’m blogging about it, I’m wishing I could just cut and paste my paper into this new post! The Little Prince falls into the genre of fantasy for its talking animals and journey through space. It is also, however, a fable that can be read again and again. The little prince is actually a young boy who lives on Asteroid B-612. On his planer/asteroid/star (all used interchangeably throughout the story), the boy own three volcanoes, two of which are active, and a special flower. Unfortunately, he does not always appreciate the flower because of her outrageous demands to be loved and cared for all the time. The flower’s vanity is what initially causes the little prince to leave his home.

In traveling, the little prince comes across several characters that live alone on their own respective asteroids/stars/planets. Many are delighted to see the little prince (who has no name other than the little prince) but cannot offer much of a purpose beyond themselves to hold the little prince’s attention. Instead, the little prince drops in on Earth, where he meets a snake and a fox, and finally the pilot.

The summary on the back of the book chalks The Little Prince up to being one of those “stories that in some way, in some degree, change the world forever for their readers.” I’ve always enjoyed that description for its mystery and power, as well as its truth. The writing is poetic and philosophical, originally written in French by Antoine de Saint-Exupery and translated by Katherine Woods. There is a new translation available now by Richard Howard. I have not read it, but I am already partial to Katherine Woods’ version. It is a delicate story, but one told with humor and a sense of playfulness that nothing should be taken seriously unless it is a matter of consequences; and as the little prince learned from the fox, only “what is essential is visible to the heart”. If you haven’t read this book before, please do. It is a children’s story that needs to be read by all adults.

Also, this is just fascinating: Antoine de Sainte-Exupery

The Borning Room

I picked up this book in the library because of the familiar name: Paul Fleischman. It is the story of a family in Ohio, farmers who raise their children to love nature and fight for injustice. Set in the mid to late 19^th century, many historical references are made throughout the story, including slavery and women’s suffrage. Though labeled historical fiction because of these references, I can’t help but feel that this is just the story of people, a glimpse into a particular family over time as generations are born and die in the borning room. The broad subject of people seems to be Fleischman’s strong suit, or perhaps I only think that coming out of Seedfolks. Written from the point of view of a young girl (who grows up through the book), Fleishman has some surprising insights into farm life and the thoughts of a young girl. And yet, the story was not about the farm, or just the girl. The story was about the family; the grandfather who worshipped nature and running water on Sunday mornings, the mother who taught her children to love music and the written word, the father who worked hard for his family and adored his wife, and then all the children. There were so many children, it was hard to keep them straight! In the beginning, I got the impression that Georgina was the firstborn, due to the length of discussion around her birth. Georgina was not the firstborn, but a blessing considering the childbearing difficulties her mother had had before her. Georgina was not the last, either, though her mother died in childbirth many years later.

Fleischman’s ability to describe characters in such a brief amount of time amazes me. Throughout this particular story, many characters were introduced and I felt like I could have known any of them, like I’ve met them all before. And yet, as the title of the book suggests, the story is truly about the borning room, and all that it has seen through the years. In its deaths, it has seen the past; in its births, it has seen the future. Life is cyclical, as seen by the eyes of these wooden walls, built by Georgina’s grandfather and still used by her grandchildren. Even though the story is finished, I’m still impressed with the depth found in its few pages. In 100 pages, Fleischman gave me just enough to be satisfied and yet too little, so that I still want more.

My Father's Dragon

Read this book! Written by Ruth Stiles Gannett (stepdaughter to the illustrator Ruth Chrisman Gannett in 1948, this story is fantastical and unlike anything I’ve read before. Perhaps it’s the style of writing, or the age of the writing, but I felt drawn to this book. The story is told from a third person perspective, a young boy or girl is writing about his/her father, Elmer Elevator, and his adventures on the Island of Tangerina and Wild Island. Like many fantasy books, this one begins with a map of the new islands, but also offers commentary from the author.

Now, Elmer Elevator has some pretty strange things happen to him. In the course of his daily routine, he comes upon a talking cat. Though the cat only talks to him, Elmer and the cat plan a fantastical trip to Wild Island, where they must rescue a captured dragon. This dragon has been captured by the creatures on the island to serve as a bridge. The cat, being the traveler that he is, has seen this and strongly urges Elmer to right this injustice. So together they go about packing unusual things for this unusual venture.

A fast paced 87 pages, this is a Newberry Honor book that is a lot of fun. The chapters are great for repetition, as they are almost all framed similarly. It is also great for predicting and pulling out main ideas. I got to use this book with 4^th and 5^th graders last summer, and they really seemed to enjoy this story, with the odd animal characters and the child protagonist who is close to their age. There are two sequels to this story, but I have not read either. They are called Elmer and the Dragon, and The Dragons of Blueland.

The Cricket in Times Square

I had a hard time with this book. I was initially excited about reading it, especially since it is a Newbery Honor Book, but I honestly struggled to get through it. With only 151 pages, I spent over a week picking it up and putting it down again. My roommate told me she had tried to read it with her third graders, and they just weren’t interested so they put it down too. Then in class last Wednesday, we discussed putting down books that just aren’t that great and moving on. I really have a tough time with that. On one hand, there are so many books in the world that I want to read that I don’t need to waste time on one that’s not holding my attention. On the other hand, I don’t feel like I’ve really given the book a chance until I get to the end. Many books have taken some time and devotion before I absolutely loved them. When I was in high school I read 100 Years of Solitude by Gabriel Garcia Marquez – I was 100 pages into that book and hated it before something clicked and I was hooked. It is one of the best books I’ve ever read and he is one of my favorite authors. In fact, many of my favorite books/authors were “not so great” at first. Part of me feels like I can’t make an educated decision about a book until I’ve finished it, given the author a chance to say what he/she wants to say. And yet, in the past week I’ve started and stopped many, many books, searching for an interesting read for historical fiction. Ah, so many books, so little time. What’s a girl to do?

As for The Cricket in Times Square, I guess my official decision is that it was “okay”. I wasn’t amazed but I wasn’t flat-out horrified either. The cricket’s name is Chester, and he befriends a cat (Harry) and a mouse (Tucker) in the New York subway station after he is mistakenly carried onto a train from Connecticut in a picnic basket. For some reason, I kept thinking the mouse’s name was Chester and the cricket was Tucker. On that note, I had to remind myself several times what I was reading about and who they were. Published in 1960, I also wonder about the cultural sensitivity to the Chinese characters in the book. The written accents weren’t great and it just seemed like there could be so much more. Some of the language was definitely interesting and a sign of the times. Selden writes of “the by-gone times” and “skin-flints”, a skinflint being defined as a selfish person who is unwilling to spend or give. I looked up reviews on Amazon.com and found that most of the reviews were written by students who truly loved this book, calling it the “best adventurest book” they’d ever read. Wow. Would I have loved this book as a kid? Maybe? Because I don’t love it now, would that keep me from reading it to a classroom of kids who would potentially love it? Maybe? I would have to fake enthusiasm, and there are just so many other good books…

I’m torn.

Grandfather's Journey

Grandfather’s Journey, written and illustrated by Allen Say, is a short but powerful story of a man’s heart torn between a love of two countries. As a young man, grandfather travels to the United States from Japan and discovers that he loves California – its landscape, weather, and overall environment. He traveled back to Japan to marry and bring his young bride back to the US. Eventually, grandfather goes back to Japan and has a grandson who admires him and wants to follow in his footsteps. The grandfather is a strong man who instilled his love of countries in his grandson. By literally walking miles in his grandfather’s shoes, the grandson comes to deeply understand his grandfather’s dual love, and finds that he knows his grandfather through his own actions.

I remember this story being on Reading Rainbow. I can even picture LeVar Burton reading it aloud, but I cannot remember what he actually said about the story. Searching on Amazon.com, I found that this story is actually autobiographical for Allen Say, and that this is actually a photo album of his family. Each illustration is more of a portrait. Many of the characters are often drawn head-on as if posing for the picture. One comment on Amazon.com mentioned that the illustrations were painted from actual photographs. What a neat idea! The illustrations capture the tone of the characters, often somber but with a caring look, creating an album of family portraits. In some of the illustrations, brush marks are evident in the watercolors; in others, there are almost none (p.8 – “deserts with rocks like enormous sculptures amazed him”).

In this short story, the space is mostly taken by pictures, not words. However, the second to last page is only words, emphasizing the isolation and the homesickness in the words. “The funny thing is, the moment I am in one country, I am homesick for the other.” (p.31). What picture should be drawn? He loves both places.

The Big Book of Questions & Answers

This is a huge compendium of all kinds of information! There is so much in this book that it is definitely not something you could ever read cover to cover. With over 280 pages, this is an incredible resource for all sorts of subjects and a full index in the back of the book for general topics. This is only one book in a series of Big Books, which also include The Big Book of Jokes & Riddles, The Big Book of Search & Find, and The Big Book of Seek & Find. The Big Book of Questions & Answers is not only the kind of book you could plunk down in front of a curious child who keeps asking “why, why why”, but also an educational resource for adults! The text was written by three authors: Jane Parker Resnick, Rebecca L. Grambo, and Tony Tallarico who is also the illustrator.

The information ranges so widely across subject areas that there will almost always be something new to learn. Some of the information is covered in school, like “What happens when water freezes?” (p. 150), but other information is purely trivia and for fun. For example, “Where is the world’s BIGGEST gingerbread house?” on page 166. Turns out it’s in Iowa, of all places! From randomly turning pages through this book, I now have a reason to visit Iowa that I never had before. Each page has three to four questions in bold letters that are answered underneath in approximately one paragraph. Each question also has a playful illustration to accompany the question. Often the pictures are talking and commenting along with the typed answer.

On my last day of tutoring this semester, I took this book with me to share with some 5^th graders. At first they were unsure of what I was putting before them, but when they realized they weren’t being forced to learn anything and I just wanted them to look, they were much more interested. They were fascinated with questions about weather and dinosaurs and exotic animals. At one point we were discussing populations of the world and I was temporarily concerned with the publication date of the book, but after checking I found that it was published in 2006, more recently than I had imagined. The illustrations look older, 1990s or maybe even 1980s, and are done with watercolor and paint. I was amazed that drawings were created for each fact, but it only adds to the charm.

Locomotion

This is my second time reading this collection of poems by Jacqueline Woodson. The first time I read it was because of a requirement, and I was not completely thrilled or amazed. However, second chances are often more revealing, especially since this time I chose to read it again. It is actually a heart-breaking story of a boy who loses his parents at the young age of 7. When he is 11, the protagonist Lonnie learns to deal with his loss through writing poetry, introduced to him by Ms. Marcus.

Ms. Marcus is one of those “influential” teachers every teacher hopes to be. She opens up a whole new world to Lonnie as he discovers how to grieve through words that don’t necessarily have a form. I read this book in one sitting because I was captured by the passion in his voice, the emotions that drive this young man were spread all over the page and I just found myself wanting more. Though it is a sad story, Lonnie and his sister Lili have survived a tragedy and Lonnie has found a way to channel his anger and frustration at the world, at Miss Edna, and at his parents for leaving.

I know I don’t normally pick up poetry to read on my own, but I’m definitely warming up to it. The structure of this book is so much more engaging than just a collection of poems. Lonnie’s poetry creates a coherent story in many forms, including even sonnets and haikus. When I think of learning how to write poetry, I think of learning how to write each form separately. First the teacher will discuss haikus, then limericks, moving slowly to sonnets. Lonnie, however, has taken them all and proves that there doesn’t have to be a clear distinction. There can be, but there doesn’t have to be. This is an important lesson for me to learn, as poetry is a stumbling block for me as both a reader and a writer.

The Quiltmaker's Gift

Written by Jeff Brumbeau and Gail de Marcken, The Quiltmaker’s Giftt is a fable of generosity and kindness, even in the face of adversity. The story tells of an old woman who lives on the top of a mountain who sews quilts by day and delivers them to the poor and needy by night. The king in the land is a very greedy man and demands presents from all his people, even insisting on having two birthdays. The quiltmaker, however, will not give him a present, so he threatens her life twice. Her only response to him is that he must give away all that he owns, and for every gift he gives, she will add more to his quilt.

A Book of the Year Winner, this story is endearing because of its message of community. As in every society, this kingdom has poor and hungry citizens as well as the rich and well off. The story does have some fantastical elements such as the royal island makers, but this is truly the tale of a real and strong woman who does what she believes to be right: to give. The old woman has no fear and always has a smile on her face. She is genuinely joyful in her heart and never stops giving, even when it seems she has nothing left! Though while the text is heart-warming, the illustrations are quite appealing and match perfectly with the text. These watercolor paintings are carefully detailed and refined. The characters are bright and colorful with vibrant colors to showcase the beauty of not only the quilts, but the kingdom and community that has been created. There is so much to see and imagine that some of the pages are separated into many smaller illustrations. These pages are divided to show different scenes and movement, some are almost like borders but they are interconnected and weaved just like a quilt.

After reading this book, I immediately want to give it to my mother, quilter that she is. This is a story that can be enjoyed by everyone, not just children. It is also quite interactive, in that there are hidden quilt patterns in each illustration! Readers are encouraged to look for all of them, and at the end of the book even more follow-up activities are offered at www.QuiltmakersGift.com . I’ve already added this book to my Amazon wish list!

Imagine a Day

Author Sarah Thomson has created a world in which anything is possible through the power of imagination. Rob Gonsalves has taken her words and translated them into beautiful paintings that represent his own imaginings. Painted in acrylics, the illustrations are not simply pictures, but actual paintings that are thought-provoking and cause the reader to physically pause while reading. The vivid colors feature incredible detail that liken these paintings to real life, as if there really is a fence that turns into a skyscraper, or glass mirrors that become moats, or a puzzle that is actually the real world. Figures of the paintings morph into each other, almost a puzzle in themselves. There is not much text, but the text that is there is powerful in its few words.

This book is actually the sequel to Imagine a Night, also by Thomson and Gonsalves and developed in the same style as Imagine a Day. I would love to see this book used in a classroom. It would be so interesting to have kids create their own page in the story, a classroom book of imagination. While reading, I was reminded of Chris Van Allsburg in that the illustrations are fantastical like Van Allsburg’s text. What a great combination that could be!

Quest for the Tree Kangaroo

Recently I have been reading a lot of nonfiction. Within the last few years, I’ve been drawn to first-hand accounts of actual events. This book, however, caught my attention because of the gorgeous photographs. A Sibert Honor Book, Quest for the Tree Kangaroo: An Expedition to the Cloud Forest of New Guinea follows the story of Lisa Dabek, a scientist of animal behavior who focuses her study on the tree kangaroo, of which there are 10 kinds on the planet. In particular, this book concentrates on the Matschie’s (“MATCH-eez”) tree kangaroo, found on Papua New Guinea. It is one of the rarest mammals on the planet, and very difficult to locate. When Lisa’s fascination with tree kangaroos began when she saw them in a zoo, she was told that they cannot be tracked. Over many years, Lisa made it her goal to find the Matchie’s tree kangaroo and track them with radio collars that can signal movement and activity for up to 5 months before falling off. This particular expedition is by no means Lisa’s first, but it is the first time she and her team was able to briefly capture and collar several tree kangaroos. Her team consisted of experts from across the world, including a some help from villagers in Yawan village, field veterinarian, a zoologist, field scientists and field coordinators, an artist, a photographer, and the writer and author of this book, Sy Montgomery.

I could go on and on with details of their expedition including a history of Yawan village, but this book is truly worth reading yourself. The layout of the book is very well planned, with a high quality photograph and caption on just about every page; some pages are consumed with the photographs. I use the word “consumed” because the photograph takes over and pulls in its audience. New Guinea’s Cloud Forest is extraordinarily beautiful and full of life. The photographs document the expedition well, telling their own stories. On the other hand, the text certainly does justice to these photographs. With short sentences for young readers, there is a lot of information that is broken down as simply as possible. Without a particular science background, Sy Montgomery is revealing this story in plain language that is easy to understand. When telling this account, he considers the entire team, and not just his experiences in the Cloud Forest of New Guinea. Also, Lisa and hence her team have a very positive relationship with the community and village of Yawan. All of the villagers are friendly and supportive of their mission, going so far as to escort them up rocky slopes and across dangerous bridges.

Toward the end, Lisa give advice to kids on how to help conserve the environment, including studying their favorite animals, beach cleanups, and joining organizations like Wildlife Conservation Society. I recently shared this book with a fifth grade student who doesn’t like to read, and he was so excited about the pictures that he had me write down the title of the book so he could find it for himself in the library. He was blown away by the fact that there are kangaroos that live in the trees, as was I! As I said before, this is definitely a book worth reading, and no doubt worthy of the Sibert Award for informational books.

Odd Boy Out

A short picture book biography, Don Brown weaved the story of a young boy who was different from all the others. Young Albert Einstein was just as intensely devoted to his subjects of interest as he is remembered for being in adulthood. The book tells of Albert’s intense concentration in math in physics, not to mention his disregard for other subjects. For some reason, I had it in my head that Albert Einstein failed high school math, a great irony that I thought I had remembered correctly. Brown instead focused more on Albert as a young child, saying Einstein’s elementary school teachers were often frustrated in his thoughtful and calculated answers to math questions. Other information included was Albert’s feat of building a 14-story house of cards and that Albert had a younger sister named Maja, who was inevitably tortured as a younger sibling. Small details such as this made the story fun and personable.

The illustrations are a combination of pen and ink with water colors, plus a few computer graphics that accentuate the depth of Albert’s genius. On this particular spread, Albert is pushing a baby carriage, painted in watercolors across the bottom of one page. Above and beyond him is all of space, representing the caverns of his mind. In this space is an image of a galaxy, the number 186,000 (the speed of light) with a shadow behind it to signify movement, a magnified particle, a shooting star, and an old clock with roman numerals flying off the face around the equation E=MC². I appreciated this addition to the illustrations. The variance in medium catches the attention of the reader, and I can imagine that this is a page on which young readers would linger. I know I certainly did.

I learn so much through children’s books. The information is simplified and straight forward, not to mention interesting and entertaining. Don Brown also included an Author’s Note and a bibliography so that readers could find further information. While the book focused on Albert’s childhood, Brown’s Author’s Note gave more attention to Albert’s adult life, including his research and involvement with the development of the atom bomb. I would not hesitate to recommend this book to any reader interested in Albert Einstein.

The Irish Cinderlad

This is a retelling of an Irish Cinderella story, focused on a young, pure-hearted man instead of a woman. Shirley Climo has written several picture books. I got my hands on this one at Williamsburg Regional Library, but saw that there were many others on the shelf. I had never before heard the story of the Irish Cinderlad, so it was a lot of fun to read, anticipating events because I know the traditional story of Cinderella, but also filled with surprised I couldn’t have expected. Not intended to be a humorous or silly version of a fairy tale, but instead a more serious story of Becan, a farm boy whose mother died and father remarried a woman with three nearly grown daughters. Becan’s story is remarkably fantastical, with a magical bull who feeds Becan with a feast held in his ear and a tail as strong as a sword, a giant with large shoes that are just Becan’s size, and even a dragon that Becan must slay to win the heart of the princess. There are no balls and technically no cinders, but the princess and her men search for over a year for the man who fits the giant’s boots.

I read this story to a 4-yr-old before bed time last week. Though it is a long picture book with many words, it held his attention. The illustrations are full bleed and very colorful, with bold colors and large characters that demonstrate a close-up perspective. The text is set into white text boxes. Originating from an Irish legend, I thought the magical bull was a strange addition, but the Author’s Note informs the reader that “a cow with a white face and red ears was considered an enchanted creature.” I think I enjoyed the Author’s Note as much as the actual story, though the text was very clever at times.

“How grand!” cried the princess when he arrived at the castle. “We’re just the same height, sir, so I know we’ll see eye to eye on everything.”

But I'll Be Back Again

Having read this a couple weeks ago, I was won over to Cynthia Rylant's side with her childhood album. At first I thought, "wow, she is pretty open about some things that have happened to her," and then I realized she has to be - she's a writer and that's what writer's do. After having read this, I can see that her books and stories are not just creations, but her way of "seeing" the world she only "felt" as a child. Rylant did not touch on her adult life at all unless relating it to her childhood. The fact that she had a child and two marriages was all she needed to say. Everything else is a function of her childhood.

It was very interesting the way she wove and integrated the lyrics by Lennon and McCartney. It's amazing what an impact music can have on your life. I can't think of a childhood obsession similar to this that I may have had, beyond Disney musicals which consumed my childhood. However, I am familiar with the power of lyrics. As for childhood lyrics, mine were not political figures holding press conferences, they were my grandparents and maybe Captain Kangaroo or JEM or Captain Planet (bringing pollution down to zero). Cartoons were/are a big deal.

I was moved by Rylant's connection to her father, discovered after he had passed. For her to find out that her chosen profession is something her estranged father excelled in must have filled her heard and given her a sense of pride. I was happy to see a photograph of her father in the back of the book. In fact, I was happy to see all of the photographs included at the end of her album. Each one is so appropriate in its own way, ending with her. The letter, though, really drew me to Rylant and her father. I can only imagine how difficult it must have been for him to be separated from his daughter all that time.

Reading about Rylant's life from her voice and not the voice of a character likens me more toward her. As unhappy as her childhood may or may not have been, I'm glad she grew up to find stories and words inside of her so that she could finally see her world.

Long Night Moon

A perfect bed-time book, I was taken in by the illustrations and the rhythm of the text. The deep blue is an embracing color, and the stars have a soft glow, as reflected by the snow on the ground. Charcoal is an excellent medium for the mood of the story: soft, gentle, and relaxed, one picture fading into the next. The text is smooth and flowing, almost like someone is writing this story just for me. At first I read this story silently, but then I felt myself whisper it, tasting these lyrical words. I liked how this story was more about nature and the cycle of the moon rather than human activities. There are no people except at the beginning and the end, the woman with her baby. The day time is for people, the nighttime is for everything else. The Earth is bathed in moonlight as it guides the animals. The illuminated night scene is a guide for readers as well, traveling through the year with the moon above. The night does seem long, especially in those winter hours.

I was moved by Cynthia Rylant’s inspiration of Native American tradition. I was curious, though, about the actual names of the moons. Did Rylant come up with each name herself or is there some root in Native American culture? I’m wondering if Native American calendars even followed a 12-month schedule as ours, especially knowing that ours was developed from Roman culture. I searched for answers on Google, and found that many tribes named 11 or 12 moons out of the year, though the Apache tribe only named five and the Cheyenne only named seven. I found this information here: http://www.americanindian.net/moons.html , if you’re curious yourself. Scroll down a bit to see the variety of names! Also, if you’re interested in the origin of our calendar, check out this website: http://webexhibits.org/calendars/calendar-roman.html

I Had Seen Castles

I don't not like historical fiction in general, but I find that many books of historical fiction are about war. Topics for historical fiction often mirror a past of deep sadness, or at least a hardship. And I do like these kinds of books, but as of now, I'm hardshipped-out. No more war books for me after this one.

I've found that I am more moved by Rylant's novels more than her picture books. The deep sadness of this soldier came through so clearly in to tone and style of Rylant's writing, each sentence and thought flowing straight into the next. Ginny's character had such a lasting influence on John; he carried her with him his entire life. When he came home from the war as a changed man, I wanted him to find Ginny by the end of the novel and I wanted them to be together. I wanted him to care enough to go to Smithville to find her and receive the forgiveness he craved so deeply. I was glad the story was written from the perspective of a survivor. Of course, one would hope that the main character, the protagonist of the story, would live in the end, but as an old man I knew he had not merely lived, but lived well.

This felt like the kind of story that could be epic, hundreds of pages long with the hero not quite satisfied in the end. And yet, Rylant said everything that needed to be said in 100 pages! I was definitely impressed, to say the least. I was curious how the title would tie into the story, and was pleasantly surprised at how John's childhood came back to him with the castles of Europe and serene atmosphere. He went back to that place when he was older, unable to live his post-war life in his old bedroom in his old house.

At the end of the copy I borrowed from the library, Rylant mentions that she didn't do a whole lot of research for this story. Instead, she used her heart to help her write the personal story of a young boy going off to war. A statement like that makes me feel like I, too, could write a personal story of historical fiction without months of rigorous research. Rylant makes this look easy.

Bull Run

“It takes but one pebble to start an avalanche.” James Dacy, p 84

I’ve always considered myself lucky to have grown up in Alexandria, VA near DC, surrounded by history, be it battlefields, monuments or museums. I’ve biked around Bull Run, my cousins live in Manassas, I’ve driven through the Shenandoah mountains, Route 1 becomes Jefferson Davis Highway, etc. These are significant places with significant meanings earned in the Civil War, but on a daily basis, they don’t mean much when you live there. Encircled by Virginia history, I tuned it out as a kid and just went about my business, eventually coming to Williamsburg – not the place to go if trying to avoid Virginia history. And yet, history is so drilled into my head that I forget it all the time! The Civil War alone is incredibly interesting though. What if the south had really seceded from the north?

Again, I’m impressed with Paul Fleischman’s ability to write from different perspectives, from different sides. The quote at the beginning of my post is so simple, but accounts for so many actions. Many of these soldiers, it doesn’t matter which side, were just fighting to fight, defending their homeland and cutting down others based on rumors and hearsay and personal beliefs. A seed of doubt or disdain or dislike can destroy any relationship and here Fleischman has shown what it means to have that seed sown. Unlike in Seedfolks, where people coming together to form a community, Bull Run illustrates communities being ripped apart. Fleischman pulls on all the emotions from soldiers, women at home, children, doctors, passersby. Anger, fear, doubt, disgust, hate, and even hope – hope that this will end, that the person they just attacked will actually live, that the present day will end and the next will come.

Even though the characters had short chapters, I felt like I was really able to connect with them. Of course, each time a new chapter started, I spent time looking at the woodcuts (which I was so grateful for) trying to remember what had happened to them when I left them last. The doctor’s character reminded me of Sam, from Seedfolks. He was the one who wanted to heal and to help, but was deeply against this war, just as Sam noticed the divisions in the garden to be human nature. “Those who’d died, I told myself, at least hadn’t lived to maim and murder countless other men in battle. It was a thought I never shared with the officers.” Dr. William Rye, pg 26.

Missing May

I was very impressed with this story. I’d read it before and was a little timid about reading it a second time, but after reading it and now having discussed it with my group in class, I like it even more. When I read this story the first time, I hadn’t had a close experience with death in my family. Now, having lost my grandfather (I practically lived with my grandparents for almost 10 years), I felt like I was reliving that moment over and over while reading Missing May. I actually cried a lot. I can’t admit exactly how much, but it was a lot. Rylant does such a good job of illustrating the power of missing someone: it can take over your life, become an obsession to get them back, one way or another. Ob searched for May in the wind and in the power of the Bat Lady, but in the end, he found May in Summer and Cletus, remembering how she was in life and imagining what she would think of Cletus.

The theme of ‘coming home’ runs throughout the story, especially with Summer, the parent-less girl adopted by Ob and May. Summer is so accepting of Ob and May’s home in Deep Water, likening her first night with them as paradise. She describes ‘home’ as “a toy that God had been playing with and accidentally dropped out of heaven” (p. 5). I can imagine some kids would be judgmental and even resentful of the surroundings in Deep Water, but Summer is as resilient as kids come, insightful and thoughtful too. When Ob’s depression consumes him, Summer finally relents to Cletus, hoping that he can bring Ob back. On page 43, Summer is thinking “Guidance came to me in the form of a greasy-haired lunatic, and now, desperate, I am passing him the torch, hoping he can lead us out of this infernal darkness, this place none of us can anymore call home.” Here, the trailer is no longer home because it has lost the sense of comfort and companionship it once offered. The idea of home comes back again at the end of this particular chapter when Summer notes that the Bat Lady better have some answers “because we will have waded out too far, out past the point of no return, too far to ever make it home again.” Home is so important for Summer, as it was for May. In this way, holding on to home, Summer will hold on to May.

Cletus’ character was definitely interesting, and I’m wondering what Rylant’s inspiration was for him. Here is a young kid with a wise soul (because of his older parents?) that collects pictures and stories and carries them in a briefcase. It’s unusual, but not all that different from other people watchers who extrapolate deeper meaning in an airport or train station. It’s human nature to be curious; Cletus went a step further and carries his curiosity with him.

I felt so many different emotions throughout this book, including depression and defeat, joy and surprise. I wanted the Bat Lady to give them hope and I wanted Ob and Summer to find their redemption. In the end, they found each other and just kept on going. What a great message.

Seedfolks

I really enjoyed reading this story - I read it from cover to cover in one sitting. I don't think I changed positions more than once! Fleischman did an excellent job of weaving together the lives of characters, all diverse in culture and walks of life. This story illustrates human interaction in the smallest of moments: walking down the street, looking out the window, and even driving down the road.

I definitely had some favorite stories, like the old man in a wheelchair with his caregiver who was just so excited to have dirt on his fingers. And the man who planted Lateesha's tomatoes, waiting for the smallest acknowledgment from a window. And, of course, the young girl who started it all. Driven by a need for acceptance or recognition from her dead father, Kim started a good deed that bloomed into a community. I was also taken with Sam, the man who tries to patch up the world, one person at a time. I was surprised to learn that the word "paradise" comes from a Persian word meaning "walled park". How incredibly appropriate! In his wisdom, Sam realizes that the garden is turning into a miniature Cleveland: fences and barbed wire dividing cultures and people. This is an insightful look at human nature itself. Given a wide space, people carve out places for themselves, creating boundaries and territories. It's just what we do. (We also have a habit of staring out windows at our neighbors. In this story, Anna first suspects Kim of hiding drugs in the space behind the refrigerator until she finds the truth. In my neighborhood, I have a love/hate relationship with neighbors who stare out their windows all day. The speed limit here is 15 mph. Enough said.)

Paul Fleischman's writing is very thoughtful. It is obvious that he took time writing and editing, considering the thoughts and feelings of each character. I was sad that each character was only focused on for one chapter, but then I got really excited if a familiar person showed up in someone else's story. I found myself noting several passages to keep in my notebook. Here are some of them:

"Over the narrow, bumpy path we went, his nose and eyes working. Some remembered scent was pulling him. He was a salmon traveling upstream through his past." p 47

"Gardening boring? Never! It had suspense, tragedy, startling developments - a soap opera growing out of the ground." p 49

"Here you have a million crabs living in a million crevices." p 58

"You can't see Canada across Lake Erie, but you know it's there. It's the same with spring." p 68

Milkweed

In this story, a boy with no name and no family ends up with both. It is the story of the Holocaust from the perspective of a young, small boy. He has no background but is told he's a Gypsy by his older friend Uri. He is told his name is Misha Pilsudski. He doesn't have any memory of his family, but he adopts this identity as if it was his from birth, holding on dearly to the yellow stone around his neck that he believes was given him by his father. Eventually, Misha befriends a girl named Janina and gets himself adopted into her family. Now, Misha is Jewish and lives in the ghetto in Warsaw, Poland, guarded by Jackboots (Nazi's) and Flops (Jewish bullies elected to keep the others "in line"). Together Misha and Janina escape from the ghetto through a hole in the wall to get food from Heaven every night, the other side. Misha is a runner, small and nimble, built for this particular task. He believes it is his role in the world.

I have a really hard time reading about the Holocaust. I usually cry a lot, affected by everything I read. With this one, I at least knew Misha wouldn't die...surely Jerry Spinelli wouldn't do that to his readers! What I did really find inspiring, though, was the way Spinelli continued the story even after the Holocaust was over. There were many quirky characters and plot turns to keep the story moving, but when it was all said and done, it was all about Misha. Because the focus wasn't necessarily the war, the story kept going as Misha lived his life into adulthood. For most of his life, he was really lonely, and never shared the story of Janina (his best friend and sister) with anyone, keeping Janina all to himself. I've been considering that maybe he kept Janina to himself because he felt guilty that he couldn't save her or her family, like he was supposed to. My heart breaks for him when he stands on a street corner ranting about the horrors of the war, tearing up copies of Hansel and Gretel whenever he finds them, eventually marrying and then losing his wife. Though the end is a whirlwind of his life and the majority of the story is during the war, it is necessary because the war had such an impact on his life. Many of the details of his life ended when Janina was taken.

This is a great book for historical fiction. In the interview with Jerry Spinelli at the back of this edition, he notes that he researched for months before he began writing. I'd be interested to know where he got the idea to name the novel Milkweed and integrate it in the story. I imagine he wrote about milkweed (dandelions) first, and named the novel last, as the milkweed symbolized hope in the ghetto.

Sidewalk Circus

Sometimes I have a difficult time with wordless picturebooks because I flip through them too quickly. I’ve gone back to “read” this book a few times now, and I’m noticing more and more the use of shadow to make the circus come alive. Against buildings, ordinary people are transformed into performers with banners displaying their heroic efforts. The girl in this book is drawn with color to stand out in the shadowy audience of blurry faces waiting on a corner – she matches the colors of the city circus instead. Her face changes as she watches the events around her unfold, likening them to the circus. She claps for the clowns flying through the air, is nervous for the construction worker/tight rope walker, puts her hand to her mouth for the dentist and patient/daring sword swallowers, and even covers her eyes for the window washers/flying trapeze brothers. When she leaves her seat, she is replaced by a bright-eyed boy in colorful clothes.

I’m not a huge fan of the circus, but I believe its appeal is in death-defying feats or silly actions that draw a response from the audience, specifically kids. For a living, these performers do extraordinary things that cannot be found anywhere else! In this book, Fleischman and Hawkes have created an extraordinary world out of the ordinary. I am curious about how Fleischman and Hawkes worked together. The book is “presented by Paul Fleischman”, but there really isn’t any text. Does that just mean it was his idea and he needed an illustrator?

Al Capone Does My Shirts

When I picked up this book in the library, I wasn’t entirely sure what it was going to be about. I didn’t know a lot about Al Capone or Alcatraz, but I found myself completely absorbed in this book. I thought about it whenever I put it down, reluctantly at that. I finished the book over spring break while camping in Great Smoky Mountain National Park (yeah, I’m that girl who will take a book anywhere) and I was so excited about it that my boyfriend finally said “ok, tell me about it”.

One of the most interesting parts of the book, though, was the explanation at the end. Gennifer Choldenko did a wonderful job of incorporating so many small facts in her fictionalized story that the Author’s Note was really a ‘behind the scenes’ look at Alcatraz around 1935. I have no real prior knowledge about Alcatraz, but I did remind myself that this was during the Great Depression, which comes through a little bit with the characters and any discussion of money. The warden’s daughter tries to manipulate everyone she can, taking advantage of her position as the warden’s daughter. At one point, she enlists the help of the other kids on the island to conspire in her laundry scheme, in which she and Moose convince kids at school (not on Alcatraz) to send their shirts home with them for a nickel-a-piece so they can be laundered by convicts, particularly Al Capone. Choldenko did a great job of capturing the innocence, naïveté, but also intelligence of these children.

The main character, Moose Flanagan, is tall for his age (10) and has a sister, Natalie. Though Natalie is 15, her mother tells everyone that she is 10, year after year. Natalie actually has severe autism, but this was in a time before autism was officially named. In her note, Choldenko mentions that the character of Natalie “is not meant to symbolize or represent autism in any way”, though she also describes some characteristics of autism and how they fit into Natalie’s character. She was actually modeled after Choldenko’s sister, who had autism.

Over the summer I saw a 5^th grader reading this book, and though he couldn’t really talk about it much, he really seemed to enjoy it. There are many kid-characters that young readers can identify with. Though it’s a story about the kids on the island of Alcatraz, the heart of the story centers on Moose’s family, particularly their relationship with Natalie and the challenges they have as a family trying to get help for her while being supportive of each other. At many points in the story, Moose resents Natalie and being responsible for her, but of his entire family, his relationship with Natalie might just be the strongest. Moose’s love for his sister gives him determination and a strong will that leads him to ask for help in unlikely places. I would recommend this book to anyone, specifically for readers of historical fiction.

The Van Gogh Cafe

When reading this book, the reader has to redefine the concept of magic. For Rylant, it does not mean pulling tricks and rabbits out of a hat, but rather the small things in everyday life that people sometimes just write off as coincidence or even nothing. Rylant wants the reader to experience these tiny miracles as magic that fills your heart and changes your world. For young Clara, anything can happen at this café. Her father is an inspiration, for here is an adult that has not lost his sense of wonder to his age. Beyond just him, the whole town of Flowers, Kansas is an inspiration in their ability to accept magic and everyday miracles. While reading, I kept wondering what it would be like to have a place where life-magic happens often, but then I realized that the point of the whole story is that it could be anywhere and everywhere, small towns being included not the exception.

One thing I’ve noticed about Cynthia Rylant is that she really sets the stage for her stories. She uses ellipses to lead the reader into the next part of the story. Possible hooks include “This is their story…” or “What he found was a story worth telling…”. In the Van Gogh Café, Rylant ends many chapters with an ellipsis, helping the reader predict what will happen next. I also loved the language in this book, especially on page 5: “Kansas is like a tall person relaxing”. What an interesting perspective!

A short read, I enjoyed finding all the wondrous things that happened at this café just off I-70. I have actually been on I-70 – where was this café when I was stuck in Kansas? I think I remember getting lost somehow, coming into Kansas City. Maybe if I’d read this book before, I could have been a little more open-minded. I could’ve used some magic!

Nothing But the Truth

I had such a reaction to this book. The entire story is based on a small miscommunication that snowballs into a giant fiasco involving the school board and superintendent. Philip Malloy is in 9^th grade, and gets suspended from school for humming along with the national anthem during the morning announcements. I felt so bad for his teacher who got blamed for the whole mess. Here is a woman who challenges herself to be a stronger teacher, but because she sends a student to the assistant principal for making a disturbance during a moment of silence, she is disliked by a multitude of people around the country. People really lashed out against her with only one side of the story and when given a chance to respond, the newspaper does not print it. How often does this happen, where we make split-second decisions and react based on one side of the story? It’s tragic and difficult to read! I wanted to reach into the book and just fix everything, but of course I can only be an observer. Philip’s parents are included in this one-sided dislike for the teacher. Mrs. Malloy blindly believes whatever her son says, while Mr. Malloy is urging Philip to stand for his rights, knowing that he himself cannot do the same at his work. Meanwhile, the superintendent is trying to appease a man running for school board who also happens to be the Malloy’s neighbor. In the course of events, the school is trying to get a new budget approved, and while the superintendent is buttering up the candidate for school board and selling out Ms. Narwin (the teacher), the budget doesn’t even get approved. (This, as a side note, is a real disappointment. After much time spent in the papers, this school needed a triumph and good news to get them back on track. I couldn’t believe the school board rejected it.) This leaves Philip, who is no angel himself, just a 14 year old boy who wants to run track for his school and dislikes his English teacher because her class is too hard.

The book is written as a documentary novel, meaning it is only dialogue. There are no descriptive paragraphs, only conversations between characters in the story. Philip’s diary entries are the only sections not written like this, but they are needed to give a clear idea of his 14-year-old thoughts. I enjoyed having only dialogue, which illustrates how important speech can be throughout a story. It did not matter what any of the characters looked like or thought to themselves; all that mattered was what they said and did.

Ironic that the title of the story is Nothing But The Truth, but the only person who actually knows the truth is the reader. I kept hoping it would be resolved in the end, but the characters just went about their lives, glad the conflict has resided from headline news. I’m wondering what the author’s thoughts on this conflict really are – did Avi have an experience like this? If not, what was his inspiration? What is he really trying to say? I wish there had been an Author’s Note at the end explaining the origin of this story.

The Great Gilly Hopkins

I love Katherine Paterson, but have never really ventured beyond Bridge to Terabithia. Keeping an open mind, I finished The Great Gilly Hopkins in almost one afternoon, turning the pages quickly while trying to predict the ending. There are several tough issues in this book, including abandonment, anger, and racial prejudice, as Gilly Hopkins is a foster kid, moving from home to home and all the while searching for love and acceptance though she didn’t acknowledge it. Gilly found these things in an unexpected place with people she hated at first, but then grew to love.

I was surprised at the end! Not to be a spoiler, but I wanted Gilly to end up with Trotter and William Ernest instead of her grandmother. It wasn’t exactly a “happily-ever-after” kind of story – it was more “life is tough, let’s deal with it”, as I would expect from Katherine Paterson. Though Bridge to Terabithia was not a happily ever after story either, the character of Gilly is so different from either Jess or Leslie. Gilly is so much angrier and actually reminds me of Janice Avery, the bully from Bridge. It’s like her perception of the world is purposely warped; she is convinced her teacher hates her as a way to validate her own distaste.

There was really no mention of setting for this book other than one reference to the Metropolitan area of Washington DC. I thought this was interesting because the story does not depend on the setting at all – it is a story without place and time, which could happen anywhere to anyone.

The Giver

"'We don't dare let people make choices of their own...Definitely not safe,' Jonas said with certainty. 'What if they were allowed to choose their own mate? And chose wrong? Or what if,' he went on, almost laughing at the absurdity, 'they chose their own jobs?'" (p. 98)

I can't imagine a world without music or color. I'm vaguely reminded of Pleasantville and black and white tvs, but even then there was music. It's hard to imagine that in a future world people would willingly relinquish their individuality and human rights for Sameness, a less complicated and more structured life. True, there's no hunger, and true, everyone has a job and a family unit, but this utopia is only perfect on the surface. Jonas and the Giver are the only ones who understand true feelings - everyone else plays along, though there is no depth to their emotions. The community is not even allowed to play with language. Precision is valued above anything else - sarcasm would have no place (and they'd kick me out for sure). Strange, though, that precision is so honored, yet their term for flat-out euthanasia is just 'release'.

Here is a community that believes it can learn from the past, but that not everyone should experience those memories. I can't imagine bearing the memories of the world alone, the strength needed to face other members of the community and know their past even while they do not. In this perfect world, there is much deception, and yet those who deceive others truly believe it is for the good of the community. I've read this book a few times now, and always get chills when I remember that Rosemary was The Giver's daughter. How difficult it would be to place all the joy and then pain of the world on the shoulders of someone so young. On the other hand, wouldn't it be so helpful, especially for teachers, if we could transmit necessary background knowledge to kids? Wow, we could even regulate the background experiences to be all the same...differentiation wouldn't even be an issue. If that worked, we'd have a better grasp on the nature vs. nurture argument.

I've noticed a trend in futuristic science fiction novels that the government regulates the number of children in a family, usually to two (one boy and one girl is usually desired). This was the case in Ender's Game, a book I read recently, and also a newer book called Among the Hidden by Margaret Peterson Haddix and Cliff Nielsen. I guess population control is really on people's minds. In The Giver, there was little honor in being a birthmother. Another thing I thought was really interesting was the stressed need for interdependence. Though not expressed in love or good works toward others beyond volunteer hours, young children were required to wear jackets that buttoned up the back.

Though this is a short book and a quick read, there is much character development. Jonas is a sensitive and often articulate young boy who soon becomes much different than his robot-like parents and community neighbors. The Giver is, of course, very grandfather-ish and I imagine him to be like my own grandfather. In her writing, Lowry helps the reader identify with Jonas and The Giver quickly and emotionally in their struggle to face the outside world with their knowledge. This is the kind of book that requires some thought afterwards. I came back to the book and read the possible discussion questions at the end, but soon realized that I didn't want to think about Jonas and Gabriel possibly slipping into a cold-induced coma, remembering the joyful memory of family and love and holidays. I'd rather believe he had really found it, that it existed Elsewhere and would take him inside readily. Life is often ambiguous as it is...I need that happy ending.

The Flying Dragon Room

I was initially excited about this story because it was written by Audrey Wood, who is also the author of The Napping House, one of my favorites. Unfortunately, I was disappointed in this one. I even feel bad saying I didn't like it, but it didn't feel complete, as if it was only half of a story. It ended right when it was supposed to be getting started! The illustrations show Mark Teague's brushstrokes; there are bold colors and muted colors that bring out the well-defined characters.

Patrick and his family are repainting their house with the help of Mrs. Jenkins, who presents Patrick with her special tools and tells him to see what he can make. With these tools, Patrick creates a whole new world, each "room" named something new for his family to marvel at and enjoy. For example, there is a Subterranean room with creatures and plants that live in caves underground (though there is also a stone waterfountain), a Bubble room in which baby Sarah is carried off on top of a bubble, a Food room, a Jumping Room where everyone can defy gravity with twists and turns, a Snake Slide (which had no sides - too scary!), an adventure on the high seas, and an up-close-and-personal encounter with dinosaurs. True, these are exciting places, but where's the Flying Dragon Room? At the end, we find that Mrs. Jenkins created the Flying Dragon Room with her special tools and invites Patrick's whole family to come, but we don't get to see it! The book is titled The Flying Dragon Room, but we only get a taste of it at the end!

This story seemed very reminiscent of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory. It may have been a little more exciting if Willy Wonka showed up in the pictures...at least Gene Wilder or Johnny Depp. Thinking of how to use this book, it could be used for some interesting writing extensions. Students could write about the special rooms they would create for themselves, or maybe even write about the flying dragon room! It would be interesting to let them illustrate their own rooms. If anyone ever sees a good picture of the flying dragon room, let me know.

Baloney (Henry P.)

Back to my obsession with Lane Smith and Jon Scieszka, I've read this story a few times and am on a roll with my posts. Kids who love space and/or language would love this short story. Every page is "in character", even the title page which says "received and decoded by Jon Scieszka, visual recreation by Lane Smith". How fun! (Interesting that the title page uses all lower case letters and all the text afterwards is in capital letters.)

The story is about Henry P. who is late for school one too many times and is about to be given Permanent Lifelong Detention by his teacher, Miss Bugscuffle. Like many kids who are late and need a good excuse, Henry P. weaves a fanciful tale of, well, baloney. This is really a story that kids can relate to, and is great for figuring out words in context. At first, I thought that words like "zimulus" for pencil and "torraku" for truck were just nonsense words from the imagination of Jon Scieszka. I didn't figure out that these are real words but in a different language until I reached the long decoder in the back! What an awesome idea to have a story with words from languages of the world; this is only a gateway for getting kids excited to learn about foreign languages, and perhaps do some research on their own. Some of the languages represented are Finnish, Uqbaric, Maltest, Melanesian Pidgin, Inuktitut, and Latvian. There are also some fun spoonerisms ("sighing flosser") and transpositions ("cucalations" for calculations). I can only imagine the research that went into writing this book.

Baloney (Henry P.) is also a great start for a lesson on storytelling. Henry has an unbelievable story and each page is difficult to predict! The use of elipses carried the story forward as the reader just wants to know what happens next! I also made a text-to-text connection to Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak. In his story, Henry P. lands on the planet Astrosus where he entertains the inhabitants with his "funny piksas". They wanted to eat him, but instead changed their minds and crowned Henry "kuningas" of the whole planet when he marveled them with "giadrams and cucalations". On a side note, I wonder if the Miss Bugscuffle even recognized that these words weren't just nonsense? Where did Henry P. learn all these words? What would you do if one of your students ever told an elaborate story like this, especially considering the language? I might just laugh and say "put it in writing".

The illustrations are so creative and truly caught my attention. With all the action throughout the book, the pictures carried a lot of meaning, especially when trying to figure out the meaning and context of the foreign words. They are a combination of drawings, photographs and what looks like computer graphics. Henry P has big eyes, freckles and looks like a kid.

Miss Maggie

This is one of the many Cynthia Rylant books I pulled from the shelves in the library. I read it pretty quickly and am not sure if I got everything out of it I should have. With Cynthia Rylant books, I think I get more out of them if they're read aloud and I'm given time to process the story. When I'm just reading for myself, I fly through and perhaps don't take the time to appreciate what is there. So I decided to go back.

The old woman, Miss Maggie, lives in a log house all alone. Her closest neighbor is Nat, whose grandmother sends him to Miss Maggie's house with buttermilk or beans. Nat's fear of Miss Maggie and the black snake that he believes lives with her keeps him from entering her house even when he's invited...until one day when he has to. On a winter day, Nat notices there is no smoke coming from her chimney. It is too cold to be without a fire, so Nat goes to investigate. He finds Miss Maggie sitting on her floor, holding a piece of cloth. In that cloth is a starling named Henry. Nat takes both of them to his grandad. In the end, we never find out if the starling lives, but I can assume it did not. From that moment on, Nat and Miss Maggie become special friends and when spring comes, Nat brings Miss Maggie a new pet, a black garden snake he has named Henry. Nat's good-naturedness and strength of heart helped him overcome his fear of the old woman. Sometimes it's the tough situations in which people just act instead of think that change the course of events.

The illustrations (done by Thomas DiGrazia) are what slowed me down the second time around. There is a sadness in them that captures the story. I was wondering why the illustrator chose to use only black and white. The only color is a faint green and blue on the front cover. But then I thought that this story is almost dream-like, a little blurred around the edges, "a story worth telling" as Rylant says on the first page. The first time I read this picture book, I wasn't crazy about it. But now that I've had to take the time to sit down and write my thoughts, I've found that I like it a little more. Aging is a difficult subject, but I think Rylant handled it tactfully and with grace.

p.s. - I was quickly searching for a picture of this book, and though I could not find one, I came across a site that was selling this book for over $50! I have a renewed appreciation for libraries that temporarily provide books for free.

The Midwife's Apprentice

I remember when almost everyone I knew was reading either this book or Catherine Called Birdy, both by Karen Cushman. I just wasn’t interested at the time, so I read neither. The Midwife’s Apprentice, however, received a Newbery Medal and I decided to catch up on what I’d missed. It is an engaging story about an orphan girl who goes from having no name, to being called Beetle, to calling herself Alyce after being mistaken for someone else by that name. She is taken in by the Midwife of the village as an apprentice, but the Midwife treats her like she is not worthy. After some successes and failures, Alyce runs away to an inn a few miles down the road and works there until some unexpected visitors from the village come to the inn. Alyce and her cat friend are reminded that the village was the only place they truly belong, even if being a midwife's apprentice was difficult and thankless. In the end, Alyce learns a life-lesson of inspiring work ethic. On page 117, Alyce says "I have come back. And if you do not let me in, I will try again and again. I can do what you tell me and take what you give me, and I know how to try and risk and fail and try again and not give up. I will not go away." Her dedication was a testimony to the self-esteem and appreciation she had gained throughout the book.

In more ways than one, this story is about birth. There is the obviously plotline of babies being born as the story is about a midwife and her apprentice, but then there is Alyce, lost and lonely, unrecognized by anyone in the world. On one particular day, she is helping sheer sheep and finds herself in a river with soap, washing down the wool. Unexpectedly, she washes off the caked-on dirt from her hands and legs, seeing that underneath her earthen shell, she is pretty and clean. In this moment, Alyce is reborn and rededicates herself to life and the many things she is able to learn, such as the alphabet, or the ability to sing. Her experiences bring her wisdom, but also friends and a make-shift family.

The character of Alyce reminded me of Miggery Sow from The Tale of Despereaux in that she was never asked what she wanted. Toward the end of the book, Magister Reese notices her and finally asks what it is that she would want more than anything. She thinks for a while about what most people would say: blackberry pie? new shoes? a snug cottage and a bit of land? Instead, she answers "A full belly, a contented heart, and a place in this world" (p 81). Fortunately, Alyce receives all these things.

There is a lot of historical information in this book. I would not expect young readers to understand everything that happens - they would really need to bring any and all background knowledge they had to this story, especially when considering some of the vocabulary. As an adult reader, I found myself questioning how much of it was real when it came to folklore and practice of midwivery. There are so many superstitions and wives' tales that I was having a hard time sorting out the truth. With this in mind, Karen Cushman included an author's note at the end with much research on the real history of midwivery. I learned so much! I don't know what I would have gotten out of this story 10 years ago when it was written, but I appreciate it now.