Unexpected Find

The last time we were in Book Nook, James picked up a copy of L. Neil Smith's The Nagasaki Vector; he had all the "Win" Bear/North American Confederacy books at one time, but about half of them disappeared in the course of three moves. I said impatiently "Well, why haven't you looked for them online?" and clicked around on Amazon.com and found a bit worn but acceptable copy of The Probability Broach, which arrived Saturday and which he's been reading ever since.

Happily, we also found another in the series, a later publication (2001), which he didn't even know about, The American Zone. That arrived in today's mail and there was a gleam in his eye about having found a new book in a series he already loved...so understandable to me after finding Verney's Samson's Hoard and Frost's Fireworks for Windy Foot, not to mention L'Engle's last novel. It's like finding a long-lost family member.

A Book Meme

I found this on Dani's book blog; she got it from Stefanie, who picked it up here and there:

Do you remember how you developed a love of reading?
Unlike many chronic readers, I didn't know how to read before I started school. Someone told my mom it was bad to teach children to read early. But I always had some Little Golden Books and small paper-covered picture books, like the story of the little girl bathing who kept losing the soap. Once I started to read my mom bought me what she could afford: Whitman books. These 29¢ volumes came in different varieties: classics, television-based novels, and series books. Once I began to read, nothing could keep me from it.

What are some books you loved as a child?
Animal books: Black Beauty, Beautiful Joe, Call of the Wild, The Green Poodles, the Windy Foot books, Anne H. White's books (Story of Serapina, Junket, A Dog Called Scholar), the Silver Chief books, and anything Albert Payson Terhune wrote about collies. Oh, how I wanted to write like APT, with his wonderful words! Also some of the Danny Dunn and Miss Pickerel books, Donna Parker, and the Lassie TV-tie in novels.

What is your favorite genre?
I don't know if I have a favorite genre, although when I read fiction I usually read "cozy" type mysteries. Really, I read anything that interests me.

Do you have a favorite novel?
This is like asking Olivia Walton which of the seven kids was her favorite. :-) I can list some favorites: Red Sky at Morning, Addie Pray, Little Women and Eight Cousins, Murder Must Advertise, The Secret Garden, Mary Stewart's Merlin trilogy, Wyoming Summer, Have Spacesuit Will Travel and several other Heinlein juveniles, A Wrinkle in Time, Huckleberry Finn, Airport, Up the Down Staircase, A Tree Grows in Brooklyn, QB VII, Cheaper by the Dozen, Life is a Banquet, Understood Betsy, A Christmas Carol, National Velvet, To Kill a Mockingbird, Dear Enemy, 84 Charing Cross Road, Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm, Johnny Tremain, Christmas After All, the Harry Potter books, Gladys Taber's Stillmeadow books, just about anything written by Madeleine L'Engle and James Thurber...oh, yeah, and Albert Payson Terhune...and I'd better quit now.

Where do you usually read?
I think it would be easier to list where I don't read, like in the shower or in front of the stove or when I'm driving.

When do you usually read?
Any time I'm not doing anything else, including during what Frank Gilbreth always called "unavoidable delays."

Do you usually have more than one book you are reading at a time?
Yes. It's usually inevitable since I see something else I want to read while I'm reading something else I picked up while I was reading something else.

Do you read nonfiction in a different way or place than you read fiction?
I don't think so, although when I am reading nonfiction I will often jump from the book to the Internet or to the encyclopedia or to one of my other reference books to check a fact or read further on something I have just read.

Do you buy most of the books you read, or borrow them, or check them out from the library?
I buy most of them, usually new. Our library doesn't carry many of the mysteries I like to read, or obscure books. When I can't find it at a bookstore, Amazon is my friend, or especially Amazon Marketplace and that most evil of websites, www.bookfinder.com.

Do you keep most of the books you buy?
I'd say I keep most of them. I'll keep them if I like them.

If you have children, what are some of the favorite books you have shared with them?
I don't have children, but I often buy books for my friends' children...not to mention for my friends. :-) I don't remember anything particular I've shared with the kids. I have bought friends series that I liked, like the Nick O'Donohoe "Crossroads" books for my best friend.

What are you reading now?
A book about adolescence as a culture before the 1940s designation of "teenager," Teenage by Jon Savage.

Do you keep a To Be Read List?
I keep a few books on my Wish List on Amazon, but my "To Be Read List" is actually a big bookcase stuffed with books near my bed.

What’s next?
Wow, not sure. Maybe I'll actually finish The Gun Seller or Death at La Fenice or the fifth volume of About Time or maybe I'll start something new. Maybe I'll buy Victoria Finlay's Jewels, which I'm wild to read after her Color. Or maybe I'll pick up a St. Nicholas, which I haven't done in a while.

What books would you like to re-read?
Er...all the ones up there listed as my favorites. No Ordinary Time. Swing.

Who are your favorite authors?
Madeleine L'Engle. Gladys Taber. James Thurber. Louisa May Alcott. David McCullough.

Books Read Since June 26

• Murder in Chinatown, Victoria Thompson
The latest Sarah Brandt/Frank Malloy mystery in paperback finds Sarah not trying to become involved in the case of a vanished child: a fifteen-year-old Chinese/Irish girl who disappeared after she discovered her father was planning to marry her off to a 40-ish Chinese merchant. As always, Sarah finds herself involved no matter how hard she tries to stay aloof, and the result is a tense and often disturbing story. I also found intriguing the little-known historical fact about Irish girls marrying Chinese men (since Chinese women were forbidden immigration).

• An American Album: One Hundred and Fifty Years of Harper's Magazine (anthology)
I found this massive volume on the remainder table for $5—why not? It was crammed with short stories, editorials, and nonfiction articles from Harper's from its inception in the 1850s through 2000: Herman Melville, Nathaniel Hawthorne, Sherwood Anderson, Thomas Hardy, commentary on the death of Dickens, President Clinton's impeachment, World War I and II memoirs, stories including Roald Dahl's "Lamb to the Slaughter" and Mark Twain's "Extracts from Adam's Diary and Eve's Diary," an examination of the Battle of Antietam and the massacre of My Lai, depressing and rather horrifying memoirs like "Users, Like Me" (very gross scene of a baby playing with broken glass while its mother gets high) and "The Rake," about children abused by their stepfather. A panorama of the American experience, both good and bad, and absorbing historical perspective all in one volume.

• Three Bags Full, Leonie Swann
Early one morning a herd of sheep, including the clever Miss Maple, head ram Sir Ritchfield, Mopple the Whale with his prodigious memory, and other members of the flock find their shepherd George dead in their field, with a spade through his chest. As humans gather, discuss George's secrets and his life, and attempt to break into his caravan, the equally puzzled sheep try to solve the mystery of who killed him. This is an offbeat, often funny and intriguing novel in which the sheep are not cartoon animals, but simply try to figure out what happened to George as if they were real sheep with sheep thought processes, overwhelmed by grazing needs, herd memory, thoughts of food, fear of the butcher, the incomprehensibility of human behavior, and their own terrors of the mysterious wolf they fear stalks them. By the time you're done, you may want a sheep of your own.

• Her Royal Spyness, Rhys Bowen
Pure romp! It's 1932, and is the tale of Lady Victoria Georgiana Charlotte Eugenie, otherwise known as "Georgie," daughter of the late Duke of Glen Garry and Rannoch, and 34th in line for the throne of England. Her half-brother Hamish (otherwise known as "Binky") and his wife Hilda (otherwise known as "Fig") have cut off her allowance now that she's turned twenty-one and she faces either an arranged match to Prince Siegfried of Romania, whom Georgie refers to as "Fishface," or striking out on her own, which will be difficult because as a minor royal she has no idea how to support herself. Still, on a pretense, she flees to the family townhouse in London, where she visits with her loveable grandfather in Essex (her mother was a commoner), gains support from her old school companion Belinda Warburton-Stoke, and meets equally impoverished—and devastatingly handsome—Irish peer Darcy O'Mara. Then suddenly there's the matter of the strange Frenchman who claims to have the deed to the family estate and is found dead in Georgie's bathtub... Just fun all around, with delightful characters...if the mystery's light, who cares?

• Animal, Vegetable, Miracle: A Year of Food Life, Barbara Kingsolver
My grandfather, my dad's father, used to claim I wasn't really Italian: I didn't like pepper, or red wine, and especially gardening, since every Italian family we knew had some sort of small vegetable garden somewhere in their backyard. Dirt and sun and worms and I just never got along. However, this doesn't keep me from enjoying reading nonfiction about people who have farms, and I truly enjoyed this narrative about the author's family's effort to live for one year on a Virginia farm, only eating whatever they could grow or raise on their property or buy locally (although I still can't understand all the excitement about eating vegetables...LOL). Each chapter is highlighted by a sidebar written by Kingsolver's teenage daughter, who places a younger perspective on the family's search for self-sufficiency. There are some interesting recipes included, and some very humorous chapters about the younger daughter's chicken-raising operation and their turkey-breeding efforts.

• Re-read: The Saturdays, Elizabeth Enright
Books about animals were my delight as a kid, so I didn't read any of Enright's Melendy family books until I was an adult. Now I'm enjoying them, as much for the period details (the books were written, except for the last, during World War II, so scrap drives and Victory Gardens pepper the narratives) as for the adventures of the four children: Mona, almost fourteen, future actress; Rush, twelve, aspiring pianist and engineer; Miranda, known as Randy, ten, into art and dance, and six-year-old Oliver, who loves bugs, dirt, and toy soldiers, like any boy of that age at that time. In this first of four novels, the children pool their allowances so that each Saturday one of them in turn will be allowed a fantastic excursion: Randy goes to an art exhibit for the first adventure and befriends Mrs. Oliphant, an elderly widow whom previously the children thought was boring, Rush goes to the opera and finds a surprise on his way home, and Mona...oh, Mona does something shocking—at least for a thirteen-year-old in 1941! The kids are normal kids, not prigs, the adventures are fun...highly recommended for whatever age!

• Re-read: The Four-Story Mistake, Elizabeth Enright
The Melendys are moving, lock, stock and their beloved housekeeper Cuffy and handyman Willie Sloper, to a house in the country nicknamed "the Four-Story Mistake." It's an eventful year, in which Randy learns to ride a bike and makes more friends in town, Mona finds a career in radio, Rush builds a tree house and gives music lessons...and that's only a few of the things the Melendy children do in their first nine months in their new home. Simply fun from first page to last.

• The Joys of Love, Madeleine L'Engle
This formerly unpublished young adult novel recently released by L'Engle's granddaughters is the story of Elizabeth Jerrold, an orphan being raised by her straitlaced Aunt Harriet, who has been lucky enough to get an apprentice job with a small theatre group in New York for the summer. Along with helping out in the troupe's cafeteria, typing and running errands for the theatre owner, and practicing small parts with her fellow apprentices and other members of the troupe, Elizabeth, tall and coltish, has fallen head-over-heels in love with the company's Swedish director, who seems to be responding in kind. But four days in midsummer will completely change everything: the way she thinks of her fellow actors, the profession, of the actress she idolizes, and even the man she loves. I don't find this the best of L'Engle's stories, but it's a welcome addition to her body of work, and interestingly, since L'Engle has always intertwined her characters from one book to others, she mentions Ilsa Woolf, the heroine of her most difficult-to-find novel, Ilsa, in her story of Elizabeth as the woman who nurses Elizabeth's late mother through her last illness.

How Can So Many Memories Fit Into One Little Book? #3

When I was a small child I drew on everything (well, except walls; despite what they show on cleaning commercials—I was certainly not allowed and wouldn't have dared do so!) and I was crazy about colors, all colors. I loved multicolor Christmas tree lights and displays, fireworks, rainbows, and the fractured lights from prisms (my favorite scene in Pollyanna is stil the one where she discovers the prism crystals on Mr. Pendergast's lamps). I had coloring books from a young age, reveled in the sublime odor of Crayola crayons (nothing quite smells like a Crayola, not any other crayon), and drooled over the 64 color box when all my mom would purchase me was the 48 box. (The 64 box had copper in it! And yet more colors! One of the first things I did when I finally got an allowance was to buy myself a 64 box of Crayolas and I would buy myself one for Christmas for years thereafter.)

I was never a watercolor fan, but preferred oil paints. Watercolors never worked for me, as I always seemed to puddle them. Yet I had a wonderful paintbox that I remember to this day. Forget the meager little eight-color or twelve-color cake plastic boxes you see for kids nowadays, with a big rough plastic handled brush. Somewhere Mom found me an English paintbox, possibly a Windsor and Newton, or perhaps a Page, with dozens of colors—I have seen a paintbox online with 32 colors and mine had more than that...possibly 64. It was in a big tin with an impressionist painting on the front, a Monet, I believe, the one of the people picnicking. When you opened it there were rows of cakes of colors, a groove for the brush (included—a fine camel-hair brush with a wooden handle), a little indentation for some water. The most fascinating thing were the color names printed in sans serif capitals under the cakes, not ordinary names like "green" and "red" and "yellow," but enchanting names like "crimson lake," "rose madder," "yellow ochre," "red ochre," "verdigris," "carmine," "ultramarine," "indigo," "cobalt blue," "Prussian blue," "lampblack," "raw sienna," "umber," "white lead," and "saffron yellow..." (Here's a smaller English children's paintbox that shows similar cakes with the wonderful color names.)

Which is why I was so delighted to find Victoria Finlay's Color. Her text brought back the wonderful painbox, the sweetish scent of the wet cakes, and the evocative names. At an early age, she also fell in love with the paintbox and the mysterious color names within, and in this volume, she travels to the places where the colors come from. She first addresses the artists and the colors they worked in and the famous Windsor and Newton paint plant. She then travels to Australia, to find the original colors: the ochres, red and yellow and black and white. Then in turn she visits the rest of the paintbox colors, before the discovery of analine dyes: charcoal and the other blacks, graphite, soot, and oak galls. Logwood for browns. White lead (which turns red with heating) and the insufficient chalks. The carmine reds made from the blood of insects: cochineal. (Did you know cochineal, the blood of white insects that live on cactus, is still used to color Cherry Coke, blush and lipstick?) Reds from cinnabar, the mercury derivative. Stradivari's mysterious orange dye, which may have lent the special sound to his violins. Indian yellow (supposedly produced with the urine of cows who have eaten only mango) and saffron (the stamens of purple crocuses) grown in Spain and Iran. The greens of malachite in China and verdigris. The heavenly ultramarine blue of Lapis lazuli from Afghanistan. The dark blue of woad and indigo. And finally the violet dye that comes from murex, a shellfish (which leads us to the first of the analine dyes created by chemistry, mauve). This is an enthralling book of travels around the world, of the people Finlay meets, from Aborigal artists to deep sea divers to the pickers of the rolling fields of purple saffron crocus, and the origins of the colors. I must hunt up her book Jewels, in which she gives the same treatment to precious stones. Wonderful, wonderful book if you are "into" art, exotic travel, or just colors, colors, colors.

Books Read Since May 12

• And Only to Deceive, Tasha Alexander
Victorian period piece about Emily Bromley, who marries Philip Ashton, a young nobleman, simply to get away from her mother. When Philip dies soon after their wedding, Emily is unmoved—until she begins to read his diary, learns of his interest in antiquities, and discovers a man she wished she had known. But was the Philip she now puts on a pedestal really an art thief? Can she trust his best friend who claims he is trying to protect her? Who is the man shadowing her, even as she travels to Paris? An entertaining combination of novel of manners and mystery.

• Re-read: America 1908, Jim Rasenberger
I loved this book so much from the library I had to go hunt myself up a copy (and only paid one third the cover price, too, for a brand-new book!)—as marvelous the second time around.

• Murder Most Crafty, edited by Maggie Bruce
A generally entertaining collection of mysteries revolving around crafts, including a China Bayles short story from the series by Susan Wittig Albert and a Gillian Roberts tale not involving Amanda Pepper, although I found the basketweaving story rather depressing. Each story comes with a craft project for papermaking, lanyard weaving, wreathmaking and more.

• Show Business is Murder, edited by Stuart M. Kaminsky
A generally cynical collection of stories revolving around the performing arts. I enjoyed most of the stories while reading them, but find I can't remember any of them, except the story about young film fans and the frustrating talking dog story.

• About Time: The Unauthorized Guide to Doctor Who, 1963-1966, Tat Wood and Lawrence Miles
Call this "everything you wanted to know about Doctor Who but were afraid to ask because it would take too long to explain." This is the sort of book about a television series that leads non-series fans to bellow "Get a life!" Of course usually these are people who can recite you baseball stats and wait with bated breath at basketball and football drafts. The "About Time" books aren't episode guides as much as they are examinations of each story: inconsistencies, notable performances, links to other stories, historical references, critiques...plus insights into the scriptwriters, original scripts, music, set design, and more. The unique part of these books are sidebar articles that cover everything from "When did the UNIT stories take place" to examinations of the Time Lord stories to pairings in the TARDIS to the chronology of the Daleks to examinations of how the series came to be. For fans of the Doctor, a good read...this particular volume covers the William Hartnell episodes.

• About Time: The Unauthorized Guide to Doctor Who, 1966-1968, Tat Wood and Lawrence Miles
Second verse, same as the first, but for the Patrick Troughton years.

• Mr. Monk in Outer Space, Lee Goldberg
In this original outing based on the television series, Monk has to solve the murder of Conrad Stipe, creator of the cult science fiction series Beyond Earth (a very thinly disguised Star Trek). As a plus, this novel features Monk's brother Ambrose, who turns out to be a fan of the series and the author of a number of trivia books about it, to Monk's horror as he considers the wildly dressed fans cultists. The interactions between the brothers is nicely done, but the bulk of the book seems to be Monk drowning in his phobias, which have multiplied so much that it becomes annoying, plus we get the "stupid Randy" version again.

• About Time: The Unauthorized Guide to Doctor Who, 1975-1979, Tat Wood and Lawrence Miles
This one is the Tom Baker years (the Pertwee years volume is presently out of print, but due to be reprinted this year) except for the final season, which the authors think fit thematically more with the Davison episodes.

• French Women Don't Get Fat, Mireille Guiliano
I picked this up with a coupon because it sounded intriguing, but it basically boils down to the fact that French women don't get fat because they eat smaller portions and less processed food—pretty much a "duh" factor. However, the author's stories of her childhood and eating experiences are engaging and well told. Several recipes are offered.

• On the Wings of Heroes, Richard Peck
This is the simple story of young Davy Bowman, whose older brother Bill joins the Air Corps after the attack on Pearl Harbor. While Bill trains for the service, then goes overseas, Davy takes part in scrap drives, copes with a new teacher, and makes a new friend in an elderly neighbor. As usual with Peck's novels, there are many humorous touches, but World War II always looms over the Bowmans' lives. A great story for younger children about the hardships of wartime.

• Really Truly Ruthie, Valerie Tripp
In conjunction with the release of the American Girl "Kit" movie, this involves Kit's best friend Ruthie, a dreamy girl who loves fairy tales and who's never taken seriously, taking place directly after the third book in the Kit series. When Ruthie discovers that the Kittredges are going to be evicted not on January 2, but on December 28, before Mr. Kittredge makes it home with the mortgage money, she devises a wild scheme to travel to the hills of Kentucky to borrow the money from Kit's Aunt Millie. While you have to admire Ruthie's spunk, she's simply not as an engaging character as Kit.

• Main Street: The Secret Book Club, Ann M. Martin
On the first day of summer vacation, four packages are dropped off at Needle and Thread, one each for sisters Flora and Ruby and their friends Nikki and Olivia. Inside are two books which they are to read and discuss, after which interesting things will follow. This is a page-turning series despite the age level, because Martin also covers the lives of the adults associated with the children: Flora and Ruby's guardian grandmother Min, Olivia's grandmother, the girls' dour aunt, the elderly couple whose lives are being broken apart by the wife's Alzheimer's disease, Nikki's suddenly independent, formerly abused mother, etc. The girls don't sit around like princesses and wear designer clothing, and they argue, grow bored or excited, and suffer anxiety like real kids, especially Olivia, whose fears about being the youngest in her class next September seem to be already coming true. Oh, and the last paragraph of this volume is quite an eyebrow raiser! Incidentally, the girls end up reading The Saturdays, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, Roll of Thunder Hear My Cry, The Summer of the Swans, and Understood Betsy, the latter being an especial favorite of mine.

Wow, Check It Out!

I didn't know about this; must order it!

A previously unpublished Madeleine L'Engle novel: The Joys of Love

Why Haven't They Ever Made a Movie of...?

Have you ever wondered that about some books? For this post, I'm specifically thinking of a favorite book, Jean Webster's Dear Enemy, which strikes me as the perfect book for a film.

Dear Enemy is the sequel to Daddy Long-Legs, in which orphan Jerusha "Judy" Abbott was sent to college by a kindly benefactor, an older man whom she later unwittingly falls in love with as the cousin, Jervis Pendleton, of one of her roommates. In Dear Enemy, Judy has purchased her "alma mater," the unhappy John Grier Orphanage, and places it into the hands of her other roommate, Sallie McBride, fresh from college. Sallie thinks of herself as a flibbertigibbet and arrives at the school with her pet chow dog and a personal maid, determined to stay only a few months until she can marry her fiancé, an up-and-coming young lawyer/politician. However, Judy is wiser about Sallie than she is about herself, and Sallie grows to love her position, releasing the children from the institutional regime that they have previously followed and devising all sorts of new schemes like camps for the older boys that will help the children when they eventually go out into the world.

Sallie also runs afoul of the orphanage's dour physician, a Scotsman named Robin MacRae, but as the story progresses, they become each other's ally as well as antagonist.

The book contains, unfortunately, the unsettling and bigoted theories of eugenics as practiced in the early part of the 20th century. It's a bit startling and depressing today to hear college-educated adults like Sallie and Dr. MacRae talking about heredity as something that overwhelmes upbringing, so that an alcoholic's child will always need institutionalizing because he will "naturally" crave alcohol, and watching Sallie sending handicapped children away to asylums because they don't belong with "normal" children. But this was the prevalent attitude at the time, and it doesn't keep Sallie or MacRae from actually breaking from the trends of the time. In particular, there is a girl named Loretta who is what we would call today "mentally challenged." Instead of banishing her to an asylum, Sallie sends her to live with a kindly farm family who basically act like one of today's residential homes for people with Down syndrome. Loretta is treated kindly, blooms into a happy young woman, and learns to do many things rather than spending the rest of her life rocking back and forth in an institution.

With all the eugenics twaddle disposed of, what a great story is left: spoiled college socialite finds a social conscience and career, helps children, and eventually finds love with a man who has had some tough times in his life. There is a appealing subplot about three children who have just become orphaned, and a couple want to adopt just the little girl, not her older brothers. Sallie and MacRae quarrel because she at first thinks having the little girl adopted without her brothers would be an accomplishment, but as the doctor protests, Sallie slowly realizes that she cannot break up the siblings, who are very close, even if she loses the little girl a good home where she will be given all advantages. There is also a fire at the orphanage to provide excitement and Sallie's growing dissatisfaction with her fiancé, who merely expects her to be ornamental and amusing, to add conflict.

Maybe Hallmark will make it as a movie some day, as their original films run in a similar vein.

(Frankly, I'd love a version of Daddy Long Legs that was more faithful to the book, as I have never been fond of the Leslie Caron/Fred Astaire musical.)

Kit in the Movies

Here's a trailer for the new film Kit Kittredge: An American Girl with Abigail Breslin in the title role. It's a theatrical release rather than the previous made-for-television efforts.

Books Read Since April 24

• Lies My Teacher Told Me, James W. Loewen
This book really should have another post. I've wanted to read this for years, but just in paging through it I realized the author had an agenda. I didn't know if I wanted to pay full price for "agenda." However, bargain table was more reasonable (it was remaindered because Mr. Loewen has a new edition out).

Despite the agenda, which is more fully realized in the final chapters, I found the book interesting, even though as a history buff I didn't learn too much that I didn't already know. What surprises me is that I learned history in the moldy-oldy 60s pre-Vietnam protests and I was quite surprised that the texts hadn't changed all that much, according to Loewen. But then I know the textbook lobby is quite powerful—look at the recent flap about creation science.

Loewen declares that schoolchildren find history boring and I can remember why: at times it seemed to be an endless parade of names, dates and events. Not many students besides myself were interested enough to do the further reading I did, which brought out the interesting bits behind the data: the people, the times, the social climate. Luckily, I had several history teachers who strove to keep it from descending into an endless blur of facts and tried to put faces and personalities on the two-dimensional figures as they raced along with the weeks of the semesters. There are also times Loewen downright flabbergasts me: in one chapter about history teachers themselves he mentions that an older teacher is surprised when he tells her that the story of George Washington and the cherry tree isn't true—a teacher in the 1990s still believes that old chestnut? Way back in elementary school we were told that legend with the implicit instruction that IT WAS NOT TRUE. My teachers then were all in their 50s. Surely this teacher he mentions was not typical?

I have several quibbles about his tendency to wander off on tangents while talking school history textbooks and teachers. Sometimes he talks about "social studies" and "history" as being the same thing, and, unless things have changed since the late 60s and early 70s when I had these subjects, they are not. Frankly, "social studies" as it was taught in elementary school was a damned bore. We happened to get new social studies books in sixth grade and, instead of the old-fashioned early 1950s geography books they replaced, with their interesting chatter about the areas of the world and of the United States and how the climates and land topography influenced how people worked and lived, the social studies books were endless litanies of country names, populations, and statements of gross national products. They looked like yearly stock reports from a large corporation rather than showing children the interesting and changing world outside their boundaries. I remember being so glad to get to real history when we entered junior high to get away from the remarkable ennui of "social studies."

The one thing I remember from this book among all the things that Loewen points out is that he hates Gone With the Wind. I mean, it really stands out, and what I don't get is why it's there so often. In one chapter, Loewen does talk about enriching history texts with good, well-written historical fiction. I can see GWTW entering his text there, but why is it referred to so often in other chapters? In one paragraph in the chapter about the causes of the Civil War, he goes off on an extended diatribe about how it is amazing that it is still a best seller despite its racist attitude. Eh? Gone With the Wind is a novel. Not only that, it's a novel that was written in the 1930s by a Southerner brought up on old tales of the "brave knights and fair ladies" of the Confederacy. He later mentions 1930s textbooks that are also racist, but says it is understandable since they are products of their time. GWTW is also a product of its time. And, again, it's a novel, not a textbook, so why is it here? No one reads GWTW as a textbook, nor do they (at least I hope!) take its racist text about "childish darkies" as legitimate history. People read GWTW because it tells a good story, not because we agree with its racial or social philosophies. It's an epic fiction about a spoiled young woman who matures due to conflict but who clings to a silly dream that ruins her life, not a legitimate history.

• The Medical Science of House, M.D., Andrew Holtz
Another grab from the remainder pile. Boil this down and it's "a real Gregory House would be fired" and "a lot of it is TV." (Like "Where are all the nurses on House?) Procedures in diagnosing a patient complaint is covered and the skinny behind some of the rare diseases House treats is also offered. Enjoyable, but not essential.

• Lord of the Nutcracker Men, Iain Lawrence
Ten-year-old Johnny's father, a London toymaker, volunteers to join the army when World War I breaks out. Before he leaves for training and then the front, he gives Johnny a set of soldiers from his toyshop. When Johnny's mother goes to work in a munitions plant, she sends him to the country to live with his strict aunt. In the garden behind his aunt's home, Johnny fights endless battles in homemade trenches with his toy soldiers, including the ones his father carves and sends him weekly in letters. The figures grow more realistic the longer his father is at war and Johnny comes to believe that his actions on his fictional battlefield somehow presage his father's fate. Lawrence brings the uncomprehending mind of a child to light in this novel that is simple enough for a "tween" to understand but holds truths about the realities of war.

• Dearest Friend, Lynne Withey
A very readable biography of Abigail Adams, although I found everyone at arm's length.

• Hummingbirds: My Tiny Treasures. Arnette Heidcamp
Three books: A Hummingbird in My House, Rosie: My Rufous Hummingbird, Hummingbirds: My Winter Guests
Arnette Heidcamp became known in her area as "Hummingbird 911" as she learned to observe and then care for injured and late migrating hummingbirds, starting with "Squeak," the "hero" of A Hummingbird in My House, who spends the winter on Heidcamp's specially outfitted sunporch. If you are a bird lover, you should enjoy these tales, complete with full color photos.

• The Tale of Cuckoo Brow Wood, Susan Wittig Albert
The third in Albert's fantasy/cozy mysteries involving Beatrix Potter and her life in the village of Sawrey after she buys a small farm. In this outing, Beatrix is still shuttling back and forth to London due to the demands of her overbearing parents, but finally has come to relax a few weeks at Hill Top Farm when one of the local landowners, a war veteran, suddenly marries, to the villagers' astonishment and gossip, a actress. Into the mix come three schoolchildren searching for fairies and the usual animal subplot, this time having to do with a rat invasion at Hill Top. Those looking for thrills and mayhem may go elsewhere; this a leisurely cozy.

• The Thief Taker, Janet Gleeson
It is late 19th century London. Widow Agnes Meadowes has worked for many years as the head cook in an upper middle class household of silversmiths to support her little boy who lives with a friend. At the same time that she finds out her friend cannot care for young Peter any longer, an expensive "bespoke" piece that her masters have been working on for a local nobleman is stolen, an apprentice is killed, and one of the housemaids disappears. Her employers enlist Agnes' help in recovering the piece and speaking to the "thief taker" they hope will find the miscreant, but Agnes' own passion about the theft, the missing girl, and the fate of her son draw her into the dangerous underworld of London. Another remainder find, this book was quite enjoyable, despite and with its unsanitized view of the hazards of household service and criminal machinations.

• Little Heathens, Mildred Armstrong Kalish
Kalish's simply written, yet absorbing memoir of growing up on the farm during the Depression. There are no revelations, just a look back at the chores, pranks, and other day-to-day living in an era when picking berries was a treat, the weekly wash took all day and many hands, everything from clothing to furniture was recycled, kids made their own fun (and sometimes nearly got killed doing it), and working hard was rewarded with a roof over one's head and three square meals. Many old-time farm feast recipes are included.

• Tumbling Blocks, Earlene Fowler
The latest in Fowler's Benni Harper Ortiz novels, it's Christmas in San Celina and while Benni prepares for a special art exhibit at the museum she works for, she also scrambles to get ready for the visit of her mother-in-law. Surprise! mom shows up with a new husband, which causes even more contention between Gabe Ortiz and his mom. I know Gabe had it tough after his father died and he and Benni are still suffering repercussions from the events of the previous book, but I think I'm a bit in agreement with the reviewers on Amazon.com who say they are tired of Gabe's moody tantrums.

Successful Searches

I took some time at lunch today to do some book searching on Amazon Marketplace and was pleasantly pleased. I had a list of three books I was looking for and found them all for less than $20 (that's with postage). One was Gladys Taber's Harvest of Yesterdays: My Life Before Stillmeadow, which will fill in the gaps between Especially Father and Harvest at Stillmeadow, the first Stillmeadow book. Another was the Christmas book I found at the library last fall, Jack Newcombe's New Christmas Treasury. The copy I found was only 27¢! The third book I was looking for, Christmas From the Heart of the Home by Susan Branch, I actually found on Barnes & Noble's equivalent to Amazon Marketplace.

Despite having a 30 percent off coupon to Borders, I took the opportunity to order America 1908 from Amazon Marketplace as well. I found it for a price that would basically be equivalent to having a 30 percent off coupon when the paperback comes out next fall.

While I was searching I thought about other books I had not been able to find and went searching for Mary Ann Madden's Son of Giant Sea Tortoise. The title needs explaining, I'm sure. :-)

Many, many years ago, when I was in high school, I was in the Woolworths at Garden City Shopping Center and, in a rack of remainder books, found a book called Thank You for the Giant Sea Tortoise, edited by Mary Ann Madden. Apparently New York magazine (not The New Yorker) used to—or maybe they still do—would host these clever little contests in each issue. Sometimes it was asking for clever anagrams, or creative casts and/or titles for movies (Henry Fonda in Whatever Happened to Baby Jane? or Michael York and Burt Lancaster in The War of the Roses, for example), or appropriate names for products ("Kiddy Foil" and "Ova Kill" for contraceptives), but as I read through the book (of course I bought it; it was only a quarter) my favorites became the contests in which they asked people to write something.

Some of these were (1) a composition written about a pet by a celebrity at age eight, (2) epitaphs for the famous, (3) various prose items in the style of a famous writer (for instance, a weather report by A.A. Milne or Shakespeare or a letter of resignation by Dr. Seuss, in rhyme, of course), (4) typical final dialog from two different movie genres, etc. These entries were always by far the funniest and also showed brilliant cleverness on the part of the person who entered.

Thank You for the Giant Sea Tortoise, incidentally, came from the contest "unseemly greeting cards for unlikely occasions." Over ten years later I found another book in the series, Maybe He's Dead, so today I searched about and found out there was a third book (actually the second of the three), called Son of Giant Sea Tortoise. How could I resist?

Books Read Since March 25

• Treasury of Easter Celebrations, Ideals
Collection of verse and essay about the Easter holiday. As always in these Ideal publications, lovely photographs to accompany the text.

• In Dublin's Fair City, Rhys Bowen
In the latest [paperback] installment of Bowen's Molly Murphy mysteries, Molly represents a now-wealthy Irishman who has just discovered he had a sister who was left behind in Ireland. He dispatches Molly to the old country to find her if possible; as always, trouble finds Molly when she switches places with a famous stage actress onboard ship and the woman's maid is murdered. Once she arrives in Ireland even more troubles (and The Troubles) await. A page-turner "cozy" set in turn-of-the-century New York and Ireland.

• The Time Thief, Linda Buckley-Masters
In Buckley-Masters' sequel to The Time Travelers (previously titled Gideon the Cutpurse), Peter has been left behind in 18th century England, while his father and his friend Kate fight for a way to return for him. When they do find the antigravity machine to transport them into the past, one wrong setting sends them into Peter's future, where young man Peter realizes they are not searching for him, but for the boy Peter he was so long ago. Meanwhile, the cunning Tar Man learns his way around 21st century London while returning to his life of crime. Nonstop action from chapter first to chapter last. The one thing wrong with this book? The final novel in the trilogy doesn't come out until next year!

• All's Well That Ends, Gillian Roberts
In the final book in the Amanda Pepper mystery series, Amanda's best friend Sonia swears her stepmother Phoebe was murdered and Amanda agrees to help her; in addition, she must cope with the plight of her new husband's family, their lives destroyed by a hurricane, and tries to solve the mystery of a student who is acting peculiarly. I'll miss Amanda, but Roberts has given her a fine farewell appearance.

• In the Shadow of the Moon, Francis French and Colin Burgess
Most space books concentrate on the moon landings, so it was refreshing to find this volume that covers the "long lost" Gemini program in its first half and the pre-moonflight Apollo missions and the later Skylab flights in its second. Readable and absorbing.

• Flapper, Joshua Zeitz
Enjoyable history of the change that overcame women in the 1920s, freed from restrictive clothing and even more restrictive manners. Zeitz begins with the romance of Scott Fitzgerald and his madcap wife Zelda, reputedly the "founders" of the "flapper" movement despite Fitzgerald's denials, through the clothing reforms brought dazzlingly to life by the unconventional Coco Chanel, and then to the women who spread the flapper style through popular culture: movie actresses like Colleen Moore, Clara Bow and Louise Brooks. The author makes the decade come alive.

• Through the Children's Gate, Adam Gopnik
I had enjoyed Gopnik's kidfic King in the Window, so picked up this collection of essays written after he and his family returned to NYC after living for some time in France. I've been reading this book and thinking of this post, asking myself, "Am I going to say I like it or not?" I guess in general I like it, although there is waffling in certain chapters that bores me. The psychiatrist chapter was almost complete gibberish; was it meant to be? I have many Jewish friends, yet I thought maybe I had to be Jewish to understand the Purim chapter. On the other hand, the material about Gopnik's children (especially his son's method of coping with 9/11 and his daughter's imaginary friend) is wonderful, his New York observations are inventive and readable, and the chapter about his terminally ill friend sad and joyous all at once.

• Great Web Typography, Wendy Peck
Well...what it says. :-)

• Vinegar, Duct Tape, Milk Jugs & More, Earl Proulx/Yankee Magazine
A find from the remainder table: today all this repurposing would be called "recycling" or "green"; long ago reusing milk jugs and cleaning with vinegar would be called "sensible." Tons of good hints on what to do with all that junk that needlessly ends up in landfills.

• Boston Ways: High, by and Folk, George F. Weston
This is a wonderful book. Weston takes us neighborhood through neighborhood in Boston, pointing out odd streets, odd roads, and the personalities that lived on each through the founding of the city to the present. Even more delightful because Weston's "present" is 1957, pre-Government Center and urban renewal, so we hear once again about Cornhill, "the Old Howard," and Scollay Square. His tongue is firmly in his cheek in the lively and colorful text, if, sadly, occasionally he is a bit patronizing toward minorities, ethnic groups, and women.

• A Pictorial History of Radio, Irving Settel
From its origins to the mid-1960s, when disk jockeys, rock'n'roll and talk-show hosts took over from Jack Benny, Inner Sanctum, and reporting of World War II.

The Way It Was

In honor of Earth Day, here's a book about camping for girls from the year 1915: eBook of On The Trail, by Lina Beard and Adelia Belle Beard.

Library Books

• Dream When You're Feeling Blue, Elizabeth Berg
The story of a close-knit nuclear family, with three girls and three boys, during World War II. Lively Kitty, sandwiched between her older sister Louise, who is engaged to Michael, and younger sister Tish, matures as her boyfriend and Michael go off to war. Later she gives up her job to do war work, and falls hard for a soldier she has been writing to. Chock full of period details, this is just the day-to-day life of an average family during the war, but a surprise is in store at the end.

A Paper Life, Tatum O'Neal
My mom used to get the "National Enquirer" and my godmother, next door, subscribed to "The Star," so they would always swap papers when they got done reading. It was in this way I saw bits and pieces of Tatum O'Neal's unconventional, and ultimately sad, upbringing, with a narcissistic father and troubled, alcoholic mother. This is, as Paul Harvey always intoned, "The rest of the story." A rather depressing look at what goes on behind the "glamour" of the movies.

Buckingham Palace Gardens, Anne Perry
The newest Thomas and Charlotte Pitt novel sees precious little of Charlotte, as Pitt is assigned to find out who killed a prostitute provided for the entertainment of the Prince of Wales' guests. The Pitts' maid Gracie is secreted in the Palace as a servant, but much of the point of view of this novel is taken up by the wife of one of the Prince's guests, who is in love with the prime suspect in the case. Elaborate mystery with much of the action taking place belowstairs, where the servants keep the royal facade smoothly running—and the secrets, too. Biggest mystery: the title, since "Gardens" have absolutely no connection with what happens!

Books Read Since February 27

I seem to have gone through a spate of re-reading before getting back to my stack (which grew in the meantime...LOL).

• Re-read: Especially Dogs, Gladys Taber
My first introduction to Gladys Taber was in this volume which I first found in my junior high school library. I was immediately smitten with Taber's cocker spaniels and Irish setters at her Connecticut home, Stillmeadow. Taber begins her narration with her girlhood setter Timothy and his relationship with her father, only the first amusing touch in this readable dog memoir.

• Re-read: Rose in Bloom, Louisa May Alcott
Having re-read Eight Cousins, could its sequel be far behind? Uncle Alec, Rose, and Phebe, back from two years in Europe in which Phebe took voice lessons, finds the two girls ready to begin their adult lives. Rose chooses to play the butterfly for a while, but is saddened by false friends and troubled by Charlie's new attitude toward her, while Phebe's concert brings her a way to earn a living, but heartache in what could be an inappropriate match. The eight cousins grow up in Alcott style, with a bit of lecturing and some hard lessons.

• Re-read: The Horsemasters, Don Stanford
Tremendously readable book about an American teenager who attends a British "Horsemasters" course in order to get an instructional certificate so she can attend the college of her choice. She finds that caring and riding are harder work that she thought, but not only becomes a good rider, but matures as well. The text sneaks in many facts about horses, riding, and care in whithout being pedantic or boring; the book is a page-turner from beginning to end. Perfect gift for a horse-crazy child who thinks owning a horse is some fairytale vision of galloping in slow motion across flower-strewn fields with no thought to the expense and work needed to keep the animal happy and healthy.

• American Science and Invention: A Pictorial History, Mitchell Wilson
From 1954! Last discussion, predictably, is the atomic bomb. I found the earlier entries more interesting than the modern ones, but that's just me.

• The Encyclopedia of American Radio: An A-Z Guide to Radio from Jack Benny to Howard Stern, Ronald W. Lackman
I have to say I merely skimmed through this, since John Dunning's On the Air is so complete and formidable. The photos are the main draw here.

• Main Street: Best Friends, Ann Martin
Flora and Ruby and their best friends in Camden Falls, Olivia and Nikki, are back in the fourth installment of the Main Street series. Camden Falls' 350th anniversary is approaching and all the girls are involved in preparation for the event, especially Ruby, who is starring in a play her grade is putting on about witch trials that took place in Colonial times. But Olivia is having trouble with the idea that Flora's former best friend, Annika, will be visiting during the celebration: can she ever measure up to Flora's inventive friend? The Main Street books are nice in that they present a child's world without downplaying some of its sadder aspects—an elderly neighbor's wife has Alzheimers and is confined to a rest home; Nikki's dad, who has abandoned the family, is an abusive alcoholic and she lives in fear that he'll return—or realities—Olivia's dad is jobless and her family will be opening a store; a neighbor's son has Down syndrome but is eager to make an adult life for himself.

• The Religion Book, Jim Willis
An A-Z listing of the world's religions, religious figures, events, and philosophies. This could have been quite dull, but Willis' style is informative, concise, and touches of humor are scattered throughout. Enjoyable overview.

• Sara and Eleanor, Jan Pottker
Oh, I so wanted to love this book! I have several books about the Roosevelts (both the Hyde Park clan and the Oyster Bay contingent) and Theodore Roosevelt is by far my favorite president. I did enjoy the story of Sara Delano Roosevelt's background and her interesting childhood (as a little girl, she "shipped to China" on a sailing vessel with her family), not to mention the history of the Delano family and the "color" of some of the historical events, like the visit of King George VI and his wife to the U.S. in the 1930s. I also appreciated a text that did not demonize "Mamá", as Sara Roosevelt has become an antagonist in most texts and media. Eleanor Roosevelt's half of the story, however, reveals nothing new—her sad childhood, her depression and insecurity because of it, her slow rise to independence—and suffers at the expense of the author's efforts to improve Sara Roosevelt's image. In addition to a list of historical errors mentioned in Sylvia Jukes Morris' featured "Washington Post" review on Amazon.com, there is an extremely grievious one: Pottker talks about the events of March 1911, then follows with two paragraphs about the "next month," concerning an oceanic calamity: the sinking of the Titanic! Except the Titanic sank in April *1912*. Sloppy, sloppy, sloppy. Does no one edit these books any longer?

OMG! I Want to Go Here on Vacation!

Just read about this in "Yankee":

The Book Barn - Niantic, Connecticut

Check out "Our Friends" for pictures of some of the cats and "Neat Stuff" for photos of the gardens.

A Series of Things

I haven't written of any of my series e-books experiences of late and it's understandable somewhat as most of them have been workmanlike only and sometimes deathly dull. I keep abandoning and returning to one of the "Boy Allies" books, which feature two American boys in their late teens, Hal and Chester, performing miraculous missions during "the Great War" and enduring hairsbreath escapes at every turn. The boys are prodigious riflemen, athletes, and all-roung good guys and the series is so jingoistic I, ever tolerant of the old attitudes, have trouble keeping with it.

I did find and finished The Camp Fire Girls in the Maine Woods, the first of the Hildegard Frey series which introduces then-snobbish Gladys to the girls, who chiefly go by their Camp Fire nicknames: Sahwah (Sarah Brewster), the athletic girl who loves to swim; Hinpoha (Dorothy Bradford), the chubby one who is later left in the guardianship of her stuffy Aunt Phoebe; Migwan (Elsie Gardiner), the literary one who wants to attend college; Nyoda (Elizabeth Kent), their "den mother," and Nakwisi, Chapa, and Medmangi (I'm not sure if we ever learn their names). Gladys always remains Gladys in the course of the books, despite her reformation. I'd love to read all of them, but only half are online at the moment.

I did find a further treat on Munsey's (formerly Blackmask.com), however: more "Ruth Fielding" and "Outdoor Girls" books, as well as pretty much the entire run of "The Moving Picture Girls." I had already read one of the MPG's books, Under the Palms, where they are in the wilds of Florida (don't laugh; Florida was chiefly tropical wilderness at the time the book was written), but am just now reading the first book and finding out how Alice and Ruth and their father Hosmer DeVere originally joined the "Comet Film Company" and came to make "parlor dramas" and other "pictures."

The first book was written in 1914 and it is striking that although the author "Laura Lee Hope" (really one of the writers in the Stratemeyer Syndicate of children's series books and of course "author" of the "Bobbsey Twins" series) comments "I presume all my readers have seen moving pictures many times..." she proceeds to describe the process of making what is now known as the "silent film," since the concept was still so new. She actually devotes an entire short chapter to the description, which shows how much has changed in moviemaking, since all the interior shots were filmed on one big stage with directors shouting out comments to the actors, and California is stated as being a place where the film companies "went on location" to get authentic backgrounds, since the early films were chiefly shot in New York and New Jersey. But then many things have changed: the DeVeres' neighbor in the next apartment, Russ Dalwood, is designing a new motion picture camera and a patent thief is after his plans. Alice visits the Dalwood apartment one day (no key necessary; there are not even locks on the doors!) and finds someone rifling through Russ' kitchen. When they tell him what happened and suggest he call the police (note portion in bold!):

"I'll think about it," agreed Russ. "Of course he hasn't really done anything yet that they could arrest him for, unless coming into our apartment without being invited is illegal, and he could wriggle out of a charge of that sort..."

Wow.

You can find more about "The Moving Picture Girls" here, and the entire site is great, also talking about Ruth Fielding, Betty Gordon, the Outdoor Girls and other older series, plus later series like Nancy Drew, the Dana Girls, Trixie Belden, etc.

There is also a blog about her reading of these series books.

Library Books

• The Ghost in the Little House, William Holtz
One of the most hotly contested books in LIW fandom, Holtz's entire purpose for this book seems to be to prove that Rose Wilder Lane, a journalist, traveler and writer in her own right, was the real author of the "Little House" series and great injustice has been done not putting her names on the books. Holtz also accuses the famous Laura of being a cold, unapproachable mother.

Frankly, all this book does is convince me that Rose was a whiner who blamed all her problems on her upbringing, and I don't think that was true at all. Rose definitely was not cut out for the life of a farmer's or Midwestern businessman's wife; instead she taught herself telegraphy and did many things during her career, including writing books, traveling overseas (including to Albania, which was a dangerous place in those days), and even selling land. She married the wrong guy, later divorced him, and though professing to hate Missouri, almost always came home for a while to Mansfield and the farm her parents had struggled to create. Holtz seems to be judging Laura Ingalls Wilder as a mother against the touchy-feely attitude of the television series Little House on the Prairie, when instead she was a woman of the times: stoic in grief, sparing in her praise. Was she stubborn and sometimes unreasonable? Yes—Laura says so herself in the business about Miss Wilder and Carrie's rocking the desk in Little Town on the Prairie—and aren't we all unless we are saints like Mother Teresa?

Holtz seems more embittered than Rose about the fact that her name did not get on the "Little House" books and she was not more well known. Rose herself said she didn't want to be associated with "children's stories," although Holtz presents ample proof that Rose did heavily edit and perhaps embellish the "Little House" novels. Rose didn't whine; why should we?

• Becoming Laura Ingalls Wilder, John E. Miller
A more balanced narrative than Holtz' book, but also more pedestrian. Since Laura left few personal papers as opposed to Rose, who wrote copious letters and kept a journal, Miller must constantly rely on Rose's POV or his own conjecture, which produces a lot of minute details of what organizations and entertainments were available in Mansfield, Missouri at the time of Laura and Almanzo's life there and then a statement that "the Wilders might have attended." The narrative is drier and Miller also repeats himself on several occasions. On the other hand, there are some very revealing or funny stories here, including what happened during the Depression when a Federal worker told Almanzo Wilder he wasn't allowed to plant a crop of popcorn. (The Wilders were not fans of FDR and the New Deal.) And, unlike Holtz, Miller does not constantly refer to "blind Aunt Mary" every time he mentions Mary Ingalls, a great relief. Recommended if you don't mind the scholarly approach to biographies and if you are a fan of Laura Ingalls Wilder.

• Fans, Bloggers and Gamers, Henry Jenkins
Contains essays that Jenkins wrote about media fans and actions between the publication of his groundbreaking book Textual Poachers in 1992 and his newest book about online fandom and how it shapes today's media, Convergence Culture. These include his original "Star Trek" essay about fan fiction, his examination of the alt.tv.twin-peaks Usenet group (which I have read elsewhere and it drives me mad not being able to remember where), a commentary about gay fans' disappointment with the non-introduction of gay life in the Star Trek universe, and examination of slash fanfic. The last third of the book are his experiences defending action video games after the shootings at Columbine High School, and the book concludes with a discussion between himself and his son about different aspects of four Buffy the Vampire Slayer episodes. An enjoyable mixed bag, but I much prefer the fan-centric stories than those analyzing the nature of classifying aspects of fandom.

• Convergence Culture, Henry Jenkins
I'd love to say I adored this book, but, unlike Textual Poachers, which was about fanfiction (and other fan creations), it's not only about fans' intersection with the internet (which isn't bad; that's what it's supposed to be about), but it partially involves two shows I have absolutely no interest in, Survivor and American Idol. Jenkins makes the subjects at least interesting, and the chapter about children participating in Harry Potter fandom was quite enjoyable.

• Wait Till Next Year, Doris Kearns Goodwin
I hate baseball. But I adore this book. But then Goodwin grew up in a time when ballparks were chummy, ballplayers didn't mainline steroids to succeed, and the Brooklyn Dodgers were a neighborhood team not an inapproachable franchise. She takes you back to hot summer days where radio announcers were nearly as famous as the players they followed, the sound of strikes and crowds floating out of each window as you passed. Too, her story is about growing up in the 1950s, in the warm neighborhoods populated by local merchants, friends who played endlessly in the streets and one another's yards, her parents and sisters, and the Catholic Church. Be assured I will be adding this one to my library.

• America 1908, Jim Rasenberger
Another book I didn't buy and am sorry I didn't. Rasenberger takes us back one hundred years, to a president who was unpredictable and capricious (and sometimes hated), to great technological achievement, the military showing its might, conflicts in the sports world and between the races, obsessions with celebrities, and stunt contests on a grand scale. If it sounds similar to today, well, truly some things never change. Theodore Roosevelt, the 1908 flights of the Wright brothers, the race to "discover" the North Pole, the stunning season of the New York Giants, the Great White Fleet, the horrifying spectacle of racial injustice in Springfield, Illinois (home of Abraham Lincoln), the trial of Harry Thaw for shooting Stanford White (which had people salaciously hanging on to every word of wife Evelyn Nesbit's sexually-charged testimony), and the creation of the Model T, which would catapult Americans onto the open road, come alive in this wonderful volume. Did you know that a 1908 magazine predicted the cell phone? That in 1908 Theodore Roosevelt told his advisor Archie Butts (who later died on the Titanic) that war between Japan and the United States was inevitable? That 1908 was the first time "the ball" was dropped in Times Square on New Year's Eve? The lively narrative is a definite plus.

Books Read Since February 4

• Inside the Victorian Home, Judith Flanders
Yummy nonfiction for history buffs: Flanders describes Victorian middle-class life using the rooms of a typical home as metaphors for all stages of a person's life, starting with the bedroom where a person was born, continuing through the nursery and then into the public (drawing room and parlor) and servant's areas (kitchen and scullery) of the home. Numerous diaries, novels, and other excerpts are used to illustrate life, dress, meals, social encounters, etc. Absorbing.

• The Complete Adventures of Homer Price (Homer Price/Centerburg Tales), Robert McCloskey
I was an animal lover as a child and tended to choose books in which animals were main characters, which explains why I had never read McCloskey's classic Centerburg books way back when. Homer is an average kid growing up in the midwest, where his dad runs a garage and a motel and his mom runs the accompanying restaurant; when he's not helping them out or building radios, he visits his Uncle Ulysses' lunch counter and gets involved with the odd characters around town, including the town sheriff (who's prone to Spoonerisms) and another Centerburg resident who collect string, and certain odd events, including the malfunction of his Uncle Ulysses' marvelous doughnut machine (one of Homer's most remembered stories). These stories are still very funny.

• The Master of Sunnybank, Irving Litvag
Those animal books I loved included the dog tales of Albert Payson Terhune, and as a kid I could think of nothing better than being able to write in the wonderful melodramatic voice of Terhune, with his voluble vocabulary and stirring scenes. Hundreds of Terhune fans, including the author, remember his literary voice with delight, and indeed Litvag tries to emulate it as "the Visitor," as he tags himself, wanders the desolate grounds of what was left of Sunnybank before the house was bulldozed away, and tells the story of Bert Terhune, sportsman, dog lover, traveler, and homebody (if the home was Sunnybank). Litvag is unsparing of Terhune's faults—his neglect of his daughter for his adoring but jealous wife, his temper, his prejudices—but still finds much to commend in this biography of a man who brought Lad, the magnificent collie, and his kennelmates to vivid life.

• White Night, Jim Butcher
Life continues to be busy, dangerous and often depressing for Butcher's "only practicing wizard in Chicago," Harry Dresden, who continues to instruct Molly Carpenter in his own "ways of the force," while trying to protect a group of women from an otherworldly serial killer and cope with the return of his former foster sister. Not to mention trying to figure out why his brother Thomas has been so secretive about his life lately—could it be Thomas is responsible for the killings? With the return of all your favorite characters: Mouse the temple dog, Butters the medical examiner, Bob the skull, and, of course, Murphy. Enjoy, 'cause Harry keeps on getting better and better.

• The Tale of Holly How, Susan Wittig Albert
Second in Albert's "Cottage Tales of Beatrix Potter" mystery series, a cozy that mixes missing badgers at the badger sett, the death of a shepherd, the tribulations of an orphaned child sent to live with her strict aunt and the aunt's unfriendly assistant, the appointment of a new head teacher to Sawrey School, and of course all the inhabitants of the Sawrey villages as it becomes apparent that the death of the shepherd was no accident, and that the new head of Sawrey School isn't quite what he claims to be.

• Re-read: Little Men, Louisa May Alcott
Jo and Fritz Bhaer and their little school for boys have all been family members for years, and it's always nice to go visit again after awhile and reacquaint with the boys—and girls—of Plumfield School, especially "Naughty Nan," a wild girl who has been sent to Plumfield in hopes that Jo can teach as well as tame her, and Dan, the orphan boy who learns adults can be trusted after long trials. More didactic than Little Women, Little Men is nevertheless fun in reading about the children's pranks and plays.

• The Time Travelers, Linda Buckley-Archer
Engaging tale of a neglected boy who is visiting with the family of some friends of his au pair and who, with the eldest daughter of the family, is swept into the year 1763 after a visit to her father's laboratory and an unexpected encounter with an antigravity machine. The machine is stolen by a menacing individual called "the Tar Man," and Peter and Kate are helped by Gideon Seymour, "cutpurse and gentleman," as he styles himself, as they follow the Tar Man to London with the help of Gideon's employers, while Peter starts to see Gideon as the father figure he lacks. What could have been a trite time-travel tale is a delightful portrait of eighteenth century life (although the folks that find out about Peter's and Kate's identities seem awfully accepting awfully easy!) and a cracking good adventure story with cliffhangers around every chapter. The first book in a trilogy, it is followed by The Time Thief. Highly recommended.

• Daily Life in the United States 1920-1940, David E. Kyvig
How everyday people coped, and later survived, the boom of the 1920s and the bust of the 1930s. This is a well-narrated text, but definitely a scholarly approach; if you are looking of the friendliness of the Victorian Home text, it will be less apparent here. Nevertheless, I found it enjoyable.

• The Sweet Far Thing, Libba Bray
The conclusion of Libba Bray's Gemma Doyle trilogy, it's raised many hackles in the teenage swooning community because Gemma doesn't get the romantic ending everyone wanted for her. While Gemma struggles to know who to trust with the magic that has been endowed to her, conflicts break out between the gypsy camp nearby and the workers restoring the school's East Wing and the girls puzzle why the restoration is suddenly happening now, when the wing has been lying ruined for twenty years. At the same time, Felicity braves the peculiarities of society to earn her inheritance and independence and Ann sees a way out from her dismal future as governess to her cousin's bratty daughters. Pippa returns, a secret is revealed, and Kartik's fate is sealed in 800 rather padded but ultimately absorbing pages.

• Re-read: Eight Cousins, Louisa May Alcott
My favorite of all the Alcotts, despite its little preachments: orphaned Rose comes to live at the "aunt hill," the house in which her father was born and around which all her relatives live. She is depressed, unhealthy, and terrified of many things when her Uncle Alec, her legal guardian and once a suitor for her mother's hand, takes over her upbringing. He encourages her to get fresh air, exercise, not overstudy, learn "womanly crafts" along with French, and to explore new things, including friendship with her seven male cousins, aged seventeen to seven. The boys are a fun lot and Rose eventually blooms in their company, as well as helping them over their own problems, while providing a sisterly shoulder for the servant girl, Phebe, she "adopts" as her companion. Rose's new life always sounded like such fun, and I adored Mac, the bookworm of the boys, naturally my favorite!

• An Incomplete Revenge, Jacqueline Winspear
It's 1931, with the worldwide depression affecting England more and more, and once again time for hop picking in the south of England. Hundreds of Londoners, including Billy Beale and his family, leave "the Smoke" of London to earn extra money as hop pickers, and Maisie Dobbs joins them on a job of her own: to discover why fires and thefts occur each year during the harvest in a certain village. The locals blame the gypsies that arrive each year to pick hops, but Maisie finds the villagers unusually secretive, and a plot of ground destroyed by fire over fifteen years ago during a Zeppelin raid that gives her chilling vibrations. Another absorbing mystery/character study by Winspear, in which we learn something more about Maisie's past and find her future changing. The entire Maisie Dobbs series is highly recommended.

• A Thief in the Theater, Sarah Masters Buckey
• Traitor in Williamsburg, Elizabeth McDavid Jones
• The Runaway Friend, Kathleen Ernst
Three new "American Girls" mysteries: good if simple tales. Kit investigates theft in a community theater giving a performance of Macbeth; Felicity's father faces conviction as a traitor for helping a man so accused and she tries to help him; Kirsten (a first Kirsten mystery) tries to find out why their young homesteader neighbor suddenly disappeared, leaving the oxen he bought to be repossessed when Kirsten's father and uncle needed them for the harvest. I always enjoy these books, especially the Kit tales, but I wish they hadn't abandoned the "History Mystery" one-shots to focus on these.

• The ABC Movie of the Week Companion, Michael Karol
Imagine you order a one-pound box of chocolates, find out when it's delivered that it's only eight ounces, and then discover it half full. That's the disappointment of this tribute to the 90-minute 1970s ABC Movie of the Week, the first series of made-for-television movies. Comedies, dramas, cheesy horror stories and some downright classics, like Duel, Brian's Song, The Night Stalker, Daughter of the Mind, Tribes, Go Ask Alice, and That Certain Summer came out of ABC's movie factory for six years, along with the pilots to hit series like The Six Million Dollar Man and Get Christie Love. It needed to be lots better, with lots of photos. Still, what's here is a loving tribute to these fondly-remembered films.

• Re-read: An Old-Fashioned Girl, Louisa May Alcott
When country girl Polly Milton comes to stay a month with the rich, spoiled and discontented Fanny Shaw and her family, they cannot know how much having the pleasant, polite, plainly-raised girl around the house will mean to them. Without preaching, Polly shows them how neglectiful they are of each other, makes Grandmother Shaw's final years happy, and improves the children's relationship with their father. However, they are still a spoiled lot six years later when the story takes up its thread again with Polly earning a living at teaching music and being exposed to the little temptations shown to her by the wealthy Shaws. This isn't my favorite Alcott, but Polly is an engaging, strong heroine and some unexpected twists lead everyone to happier places.

Camp Fire Girls

I was doing a search on one of my favorite old-time book series, The Camp Fire Girls (note spelling!) by Hildegard Frey, and found these links about Frey and the series:

Ohioana Library Authors: Hildegarde Gertrude Frey

The Camp Fire Girls Books: Synopses

About Frey and the Novels

Some Things Never Change

I am re-reading Little Women and have come to "On the Shelf," where Meg and John argue about the children's upbringing, until John shows Meg he can manage their son gently but firmly. To make amends, Meg asks John to read to her about the election as she does a sewing project. I had to laugh at this passage:

In her secret soul, however, she decided that politics were as bad as mathematics, and that the mission of politicians seemed to be calling each other names...

I see things haven't changed at all in 140 years, even with a woman running for the office of President of the United States!