Wednesday, February 28, 2007

The Tale of Despereaux


I am really glad I read this book. I've read other books by Kate DiCamillo such as The Tiger Rising, but I'd always held off a little bit on The Tale of Despereaux, foolishly thinking maybe it wasn't as good as all the hype. Fortunately, it is.

The story itself is such a fast read. DiCamillo's use of the language just pushes the reader forward, especially when she talks to the reader. She has built a bridge between the author and the reader to get the reader a little more involved. To do this, she often switches tenses, first talking about Despereaux or Roscura or Mig Sow, then suddenly referring to herself as the author! As the reader, it made me feel like there was someone with me, making humorous comments or remarks. I read silently, but it felt like a read aloud. The questions she poses would be especially interesting for a class to answer. For example, what would kids say to "Reader, do you believe that there is such a thing as happily ever after? Or, like Despereaux, have you, too, begun to question the possibility of happy endings?" p. 58. At that point I thought, this book better have a happy ending...

DiCamillo also abbreviates her language to emphasize their importance by putting one or two words on a line, i.e. 'goose eggs', or just 'nothing'. The extra space around the word forces the reader to stop and take stock in what was said. How powerful and important must that word 'nothing' be, such as in chapter 50 - in which the princess says his name.

Though a children's story, The Tale of Despereaux has some very insightful moments. There were a few times when I got caught up in the idea of hope and faith and love, completely taken with these characters I'd only known for a few short minutes. At the end I had to take a step back and remember that the princess was only 12, and yet she "was aware suddenly of how fragile her heart was, how much darkness was inside it, fighting, always, with the light. She did not like the rat. She would never like the rat, but she knew what she must do to save her own heart." p. 264 Incredible! Such wisdom, such heart - hers will heal correctly, unlike Roscuro who was destined to belong nowhere.

I also enjoyed the pictures/illustrations. Every once in a while it's nice to have a visual representation to keep my mind on track. For some reason (probably leftover from Bridge), I kept imagining this as a movie - I bet it would be great! Michael J. Fox would be a great mouse voice. Oh wait, he was Stuart Little. No wonder I thought he'd be great, he's already done it before. Maybe Haley Joel Osment? What's he doing these days?

I wish I could talk to animals.


PS - AHH. I just looked it up. It IS going to be a movie! With Justin Long! Ahh! http://imdb.com/title/tt0420238/

Sunday, February 25, 2007

Caps for Sale! Fifty Cents a Cap!


"By this time the peddler was really very, very angry. He stamped both his feet and shouted, 'You monkeys, you! You must give me back my caps!'
But the monkeys only stamped both their feet back at him and said, 'Tsz, tsz, tsz.'"

At some point in their life, I think everyone has had some experience with LeVar Burton's Reading Rainbow. A cornerstone of my childhood television-watching career (not including the disney channel which pretty much took over everything by the time I was 8), LeVar Burton introduced me to a book which has recently come back into my life: Caps for Sale by Esphyr Slobodkina. In this book, the peddler's caps are taken by a band of monkeys and must learn to cope and overcome their monkey business (monkey see, monkey do!). This book was first published in 1940, and like Cleary's Henry Huggins, this is a timeless classic. I'm taken with the fact that Esphyr Slobodkina "Told & Illustrated" this story, instead of just wrote and illustrated. Writing is telling, it's weaving a story that can be passed down from generation to generation.

The repetitive text is great for getting kids involved, especially young audiences who are learning about books and excited to be part of the reading experience. Echo reading and choral reading as well as some dramatization is so much fun for beginning readers. There are opportunities for predictions and prior knowledge as well as big surprises for first-time readers. As a side note, I always thought it was a little strange that the peddler walks through the town peddling his caps, but the entire town is empty - not a single person in sight. No wonder he can't sell any caps to buy his lunch! The countryside is inhabited with monkeys, not people! While seemingly random, it's a light-hearted story that has certainly stayed with me over the years. Of course there are other lovers of Caps for Sale as well. Here is the link to a webquest created just for this book! Caps for Sale?

Henry Huggins


Henry Huggins. What can I say about Henry Huggins? It is clearly one of the most adorable stories ever and perfect for getting young readers hooked on a series. Beverly Cleary, infamous children's author that she is, introduces Ribsy to the Henry Huggins series in this first book. It is so popular because it's about a regular boy who does regular kid-things; he goes to school (which isn't always fun), goes home, swims at the local YMCA on wednesday afternoons, eats ice cream...and has a dog! Dogs are such lovable characters that readers can easily identify with Henry and Ribsy's adventures.

The version I read is the 50th Anniversary Edition with a special introduction by Beverly Cleary. In all the time I've had this book, not once did I read the introduction until I sat down to write about it. This was the first sentence of Cleary intro: "When I was the age of readers of my books I always skipped the introduction because I was so eager to get at the story." Ha - whoops! Guess I never grew up much past the age of 12! So now I've read the introduction, and I was surprised to read that this was Cleary's first book ever! I am almost embarrassed that I never knew this, being such a fan of Beverly Cleary. Having been inspired by a group of young boys who couldn't find anything interesting to read "for boys like them", Cleary decided to write about "a city mutt" instead of a "noble country dog" like many stories already in existence.

When reading it, I didn't feel like the story was dated at all. Kids today still understand issues of public transportation, being helped by the police, getting in trouble at school or annoyed by bullies, as well as hard work to get what you want. For example, Henry accidentally throws a football into a moving car, and then must catch night crawlers in his neighbor's yard for a penny each. A penny each! (Yikes, this may be one of the only 'dated' elements in the whole story, but I still know some pretty stingy people to whom this would sound reasonable.) I'm just amazed at what a timeless author Cleary has become after debuting her first work, Henry Huggins, in 1949. What an achievement! All her characters are connected - Beezus and Ramona are in this first book, introduced as friends/classmates of Henry's. Through Henry Huggins, Cleary is able to reach an audience of boys; through Ramona and Beezus, Cleary can reach an audience of girls. She's got it all covered!

P.S. - I was just looking for pictures of the book online, and found that there's a Beverly Cleary Statue Garden near Portland where her books supposedly took place. Here's a picture of Henry and Ribsy, all statuesque...

Ender's Game


Instead of short picture books, I decided to start reading some longer books for young adults. I picked up Ender's Game by Orson Scott Card (a Hugo and Nebula winner) since it's always been on my list of books-to-read-someday. I found it in the library with a young adult label and thought, "now's the time!" Turns out, it's the best book I've read in a long while. Beyond Bridge to Terabithia, beyond other cute children's books, I had an interesting experience reading this book. I couldn't put it down, but I couldn't let myself finish because I didn't want it to be over! I stayed up late one night reading about 100 pages, and then took the next 5 days to read 20 pages, subconsciously not wanting the story to end. I've found myself doing this with books I become really attached to - I just want to be part of them forever and know that I can always come back and jump in where I was. The last great book I felt this way about was The Poisonwood Bible by Barbara Kingsolver when I read it last summer. Alas, both Ender's Game and The Poisonwood Bible came to an end.

I had no preconceived notions of Ender's Game's plot before I started reading it. I knew it was science fiction and I knew it was well-liked, but I had no idea what I had committed myself to read. I almost don't want to write about it because I want other people to read it without knowing either! In an effort to reconcile with myself, I will talk about major themes and issues in the story, but not the end! I will not tell the end!

Ender Wiggin is only 6 years old when this story begins. He is a "third" (This futuristic government regulates how many kids a family should have. Unless the government approves, only two children are allowed) and like many children, has an implanted chip in the back of his head/neck that lets government officials watch and monitor his actions. The whole point is that they are searching for the next "genius commander" that can defeat the Buggers in space warfare...sometime in the future. Luckily for him, Ender is chosen (over older brother Peter and older sister Valentine) and is taken to Battle School to begin his training. There he is isolated, beat down, confused, pushed to his limits and strengthened. He is thrown into simulated battles with flash suits in zero gravity, bullied by peer trainees (who were pitted against each other on purpose), deceived by his supposed teachers - all while trying to grow up. Even though the story is about kids, some of these kids are so intelligent that they speak and think like adults.

A somewhat obscure thing I really enjoyed about this book was the lack of a romantic couple that "falls in love". True, most of the main characters are children, but they have so much depth that romantic love seems trivial. Ender loves his sister with his whole heart that he would save the Earth for her, but his emotions are richer and more complex than a traditional story about a teenage boy growing up. By the time he is 11, Ender has killed other beings, but never is he concerned about girls. He is trained in warfare, not affairs of the heart.

Manipulation and deception run rampant through this book, but what goes around definitely comes around. I wish I could talk about the end, but I refuse to be a spoiler! Just know that this is a worthy read, for both kids and adults. The world created by Orson Scott Card is futuristic and fictitious, but closely correlated with the world today so it is easy to understand. I'm in awe of what these kids were capable of and will forever wonder about the potential of my students. I also know that there is a whole series of books that comes after this one, but I'm not sure I'll have time to read them this semester. The following are some passages that truly carry the heart of this story:

"For now that they could not be together, they must be infinitely apart, and what had been sure & unshakable was now fragile and insubstantial." p 122

"He was a soldier, and if anyone had asked him what he wanted to be when he grew up, he wouldn't have know what they meant." p 158

"In the moment when I truly understand my enemy, understand him well enough to defeat him, then in that very moment I also love him. I think it's impossible to really understand somebody, what they want, what they believe, and not love them the way they love themselves." p 168 - Such character of heart!

After all is said and done, this is officially one of my new favorite books. I'm even considering putting it on facebook as such. Now that's real committment.

Tuesday, February 20, 2007

Bridge to Terabithia - movie

It's difficult to watch someone else's visual interpretation of a book, but I think this one was okay. I laughed, I cried...I thought about it a lot. I was happy that the previews had been somewhat misleading, but I really haven't made up my mind about whether I liked them or not. What I do know is that the end reminded me of Big Fish, where all the imaginary characters came to say goodbye.

I understand that the movie was modernized, but I feel like I got more out of the movie because I had read the book. I recognized several lines straight from the text, which was great. However, without Jess's inner monologue, there wasn't much of an explanation for Miss Edmonds (even though I love Zooey Deschanel and think she did a fantastic job). I was also a little put off by the plot being twisted around...no Christmas, no Easter sunday, just a birthday and random free dog. And did Leslie's character look like a young Keira Knightley to anyone else? That's all I kept seeing. As for Jess...I think he was great. He wasn't exactly what I imagined, but he definitely held his own. Those poor kids who saw the movie without reading the book...I wonder what they thought.

Saturday, February 17, 2007

Madeline's Rescue


I have actually spent much time in the past year teaching this book to classes of Kindergarteners. I remember enjoying Madeline as a little girl, and wondered how young children now would respond to this book. I can only say this: They LOVE it. A school full of girls, one of which almost dies but is rescued by a dog who eventually has puppies? Yeah, I can't see that going over badly. Even little boys love it. I mean, there's a cool dog. I can't wait until I can use it in a classroom again!

Though written in the 1950s (1954 Caldecott Winner), this story is relevant and enjoyable for children. The lines are written in verses that rhyme, but a reader has to be careful not to become too sing-songy when reading aloud. In the small experience I've had with this book, it is great for choral or echo reading (esp. madeline's lines) and acting out. When I was working with this book and Kindergarteners, I was working for an organization that promoted the enjoyment of reading for young learners. From their suggestions, I actually read this book twice in a row with my 5 year olds. The first time through, I paused a few times to ask brief questions, and make my own comments. The second time through, the students were better prepared to ask their own questions and answer some tougher ones from me. About 3/4 of the way through the book, I stopped reading aloud and we dramatized the end as a class. This is so much fun!

The story itself follows a pattern at times, but at others is completely unpredictable. The first page is full of writing, but the second and third pages are only one drawn-out sentence. I have to admit, the beginning of the book is a little scary, and even I drew a deep breath at the words on the page. For six pages of illustrations, there is only one long sentence: "Poor Madeline would now be dead/But for a dog/That kept its head,/And dragged her safe from a watery grave." Ah! One page ended with 'dead', and another ended with 'grave'! I definitely had forgotten that from my readings as a child and how thought it to be almost morbid when rereading it as an adult. I soon realized that the kids didn't think much of it, except that it added to the suspense. Before discussing the illustrations, I would like to add that this book is as much about the French culture as anything else. Madeline's all-girl orphanage, run by Miss Clavel, is set in 1950s Paris, using words such as 'gendarmes', which I had to look up when rereading it (the French police). Bemelman writes in rhyme, but is not afraid to have larger words in his children's book, or larger issues - possible death by drowning and even heartbreak when the dog (named Miss Genevieve) is kicked out of the orphanage/school by the board of inspectors (one of whom is named Lord Cucuface - ha, how'd he come up with that?). At one point, the word 'vengeance' is even stretched out like "VEN-GE-ANCE", which I found hard to pronounce with those separations. Something else I noticed is that Bemelman is also fond of the hyphen in his writing.

As for the illustrations, this is definitely a Caldecott winner. The structure of the illustrations were somewhat foreign to me when I first looked through them. Some pages seem to be colorfully drawn with great detail, and others are simply yellow pages with outlines of people. I couldn't even figure out his pattern for switching his technique! And then I realized that Ludwig Bemelman has created a world based on one color: yellow! On the pages when the people are the most important focus, the background is all yellow and the characters are outlined in black for emphasis. On the other hand, when the background is equally important or the illustration has to span more distance, more care is taken in setting the scene, though yellow is almost always a predominant color. In these more detailed pictures, readers can probe into the illustrations, examining the whatever scene it happens to be in 1950s Paris. Pages 10-11 depict a scene of buildings and townhouses in the background, a pedestrian bridge off to the side, and the gendarmes/street artists in the foreground. What a wonderful place to be - I wish I was there! And still, the pattern I thought I had found to Bemelman's illustrations does not seem to be completely accurate. At one point, the girls set out looking for Miss Genevieve, looking high and low throughout the city. Most city illustrations would be very detailed, saving the basic pictures (people-centered) to be in yellow and black, but page 37 proves me wrong as the city is painted in yellow and black, reminding me of a page from Where's Waldo? These turned out to be great pages to have kids look for Genevieve themselves while listening to the story. The detailed cover is even great for predictions, and shows up again later in the story, connecting predictions to the actual story.

Overall this is a very smartly-illustrated children's book that also lends itself to great classroom discussions!

The Hello, Goodbye Window


I picked up this picture book for two reasons: it won the Caldecott Medal in 2006 and the author is Norton Juster (author of the The Phantom Tollbooth!). The story was a comforting tale of a young girl who spends most of her days and some nights at her Nanna and Poppy's house. In their kitchen, they have what is called a 'hello, goodbye window'; you can look out and say hello or look in and say goodbye - or even vice versa. It's a charming story of childhood, in which anything is possible and the world is only full of opportunities. The inside back cover of the book notes that Juster is a grandfather. I found that to be so evident with his descriptions of the young girl. Reading this one sentence had me convinced that Juster truly understood what it meant to be so small: "When I get tired I come in and take my nap and nothing happens until I get up." What a lovely idea that the world stops completely while you are asleep! With simple wording, Juster also explores the deep relationship between a girl and her grandparents and life in the heart of the house - the kitchen.

Though while the text is simple, the illustrations are anything but. Chris Raschka is the illustrator of this picture book and has such a unique style that I had never experienced before. I remember in my response to Weslandia I had commented on how the colors ran together, but clearly I had no idea what I was talking about. Raschka uses watercolors in an almost abstract way that let's the reader interact with the pictures as he/she decides what the colors represent. Any black or dark dark brown used in the illustrations is drawn in my hand sparingly. The dark lines help define the watercolor illustrations, and it is obvious that they have been added after all the color. This is an interesting concept to me. When I think of drawing, I imagine creating an outline first, or some sort of guide for my coloring so that I can "color inside the lines". Chris Raschka seems to have flipped that process inside out, starting with the heart of a picture and ending with the definitive edge. My limited artistic abilities were blown away - I would love to see these pictures without the black lines, without the hint of a 'line' to color within. How much would my perception of the picture change? Would I see the same things? Would I know that the smudge of orange on the kitchen table was really a crayon if the black line was not loosely drawn around it? Probably not! I believe this book to be so deserving of a Caldecott Medal. The technique is not something I ever would have thought of or be able to duplicate. The illustrations are art beyond a doubt.