The Remarkable Farkle McBride is John Lithgow’s first book and
first collaboration with C. F. Payne. Although I’d heard of it, I just
read it for the first time yesterday. I enjoy Lithgow’s style very much,
so I would like to read all of his books, but Farkle
particularly intrigued me because Payne did the illustrations. Lithgow
has written five books, but Payne has worked with him on only two. This
story concerns a young boy named Farkle whose prodigious musical talents
leave him unsatisfied with each of the instruments he masters.
The narrative style of Farkle is similar to that of Micawber,
the first Lithgow book I read. Lithgow creates an aurally appealing
story with a recurring pattern of rhyme. Most of the book features a
3-page cycle: Farkle picks up a new instrument (ABAB), Farkle plays the
instrument (AAA (musical sounds) BAAAB), Farkle discards the instrument
(ABAAAB). Although it includes a few upper-level words – prodigy, beseeching, rhapsodical, notwithstanding
- for the most part the vocabulary is fairly simple. I would say that
this easier, more predictable narration places this book toward the
lower end of the picture book age range, while Micawber is geared
toward the higher. Both books have a slightly PBS-ish quality about
them, trying to get children interested in art and music. Another of his
books involves the American Museum of Natural History, while the other
two feature two unusual animals: a kangaroo and a manatee. Lithgow’s
passion for entertaining seems to be coupled with a passion for
education.
Payne’s illustrations are enjoyable and
entertaining, though Farkle isn’t nearly as cute as Micawber. I suppose
I’m prejudiced, though… He’s actually a rather odd-looking boy, who is
somewhat reminiscent of Alfred P. Neuman, particularly in his cover
appearance. His head often seems disproportionately large, but maybe
that is supposed to be a visual nod to his genius. Up until the last few
pages, each two-page spread contains a picture on one side and text,
with a backdrop of musical notes, on the other. Payne captures Farkle’s
endearing mix of dedication to his instrument and frustration with its
insufficiency. His exasperated tantrums remind us that in spite of his
talent, he’s still just a kid.
Instruments appear on each
page, and when Farkle is playing, he seems to be in perfect concert with
those around him. Not only do we see him playing with the orchestra, we
see a bird sing along with his flute and a butterfly perch on his
trombone. I love the perplexed expression on the family dog’s face as it
inspects Farkle’s smashed violin and the sad open mouths of the fish
that welcome Farkle’s flute to the bottom of the lake. The illustrations
are rich and detailed, a perfect combination of astonishing realism and
amusing caricature. Farkle in general seems to grow more cartoonish in
his looks as the book progresses.
Although I did not enjoy it quite as much as Micawber, I nonetheless found Farkle
to be a story of high quality and both educational and entertainment
value. I hope these two collaborate again. I would recommend Farkle
for younger children, particularly those interested in music. They may
find inspiration in a reflection of themselves – let’s just hope it
doesn’t inspire anyone to smash their violin!
Wednesday, June 30, 2004
Bubba Gump's Knows Everything There Is To Know About the Shrimpin' Business...
When I went to Chicago for a visit with two friends of mine, one of the
stops we intended to make was to Bubba Gump Shrimp Restaurant and
Market. Though we passed the restaurant the day before when we spent the
afternoon at Navy Pier, we saved this unique dining experience for our
last excursion on the trip. I’m kicking myself that I didn’t get a
picture of the exterior; I intended to, but it was too crowded at the
time for me to get a good shot of anything. While there is a large
dining area inside, the tables out on the pier are ideally located for a
nice summer day. Benches adorned with Forrest’s sayings create a nice
effect. On the inside, the restaurant is filled with memorabilia and has
Forrest Gump playing constantly.
The menus feature photos and quotes from the film and food related to the characters. I got the Bucket of Boat Trash, a combination of shrimp, lobster and fish alluding to a scene at the beginning of Forrest’s shrimping career, and a Run Forrest Run, a smoothie consisting of oranges, strawberries, bananas and raspberry frozen yogurt. Other themed menu items included Mama Gump's Garlic Bread Basket; the Run Across America platter featuring Bubba's Far Out Dip (with spinach, roasted red pepper, artichokes, shrimp and Monterey Jack cheese) and Chips, Chilly Shrimp (peel and eat southern-style shrimp), Greenbow Tenders (Cajun chicken strips with blue cheese sauce) and Mama Blue's Fried shrimp; Jenny's Favorite, a smoothie with cranberry juice, strawberries and raspberry frozen yogurt; the Alabama Sweet Smoothie, made of peanut butter, chocolate and vanilla frozen yogurt; a variety of shrimp options from Shrimp Shack Pasta to Dumb Luck Coconut Shrimp; Gumpberry Cobbler, consisting of seasonal berries and apples with ice cream, drizzled with raspberry sauce and walnut cookie crumbs; and Forrest's Dr. Pepper Float, in deference to Forrest's favorite beverage.
The food was delicious, and as we ate we looked around at the decor and were entertained by our waiter, a very affable fellow who quizzed us on Forrest trivia whenever he stopped at our table. How frequently he stopped was up to us. We were provided with two license plates; most of the time we kept the “Run Forrest Run” plate in view, but if we needed anything we switched to “Stop Forrest Stop.” It was a simple touch but added to the fun of the meal.
It’s a shame Bubba Gump doesn’t have more locations. I would love to go there with my family sometime. The high-quality fare makes it worthwhile for any seafood lover, while the restaurant’s theme is a special treat for fans of the film. Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies, so I found it doubly enjoyable. This isn’t a place where you would dine frequently, but it’s a fun novelty restaurant along the lines of Hard Rock Cafe or Planet Hollywood, just with a narrower focus. Prices, while not unreasonable, are a bit hefty, and if you do go you’ll probably want to take home a reminder of your trip. I purchased a t-shirt featuring cartoonish renditions of moments from the movie. A variety of “Gump gear” is available, from t-shirts and glasses to playing cards and stationery.
Bubba Gump’s is now in nearly 20 locations – none of which, oddly enough, are in Alabama. If you happen to be in the vicinity of a Bubba Gump’s, I would certainly recommend stopping there for a leisurely lunch or dinner, particularly if you are a Forrest Gump enthusiast. The Chicago branch is open from 11 am to 11 pm Sunday through Thursday and an hour longer Friday and Saturday, though hours vary. The restaurant offers an opportunity to bring a piece of cinema to life in a most delicious manner.
The menus feature photos and quotes from the film and food related to the characters. I got the Bucket of Boat Trash, a combination of shrimp, lobster and fish alluding to a scene at the beginning of Forrest’s shrimping career, and a Run Forrest Run, a smoothie consisting of oranges, strawberries, bananas and raspberry frozen yogurt. Other themed menu items included Mama Gump's Garlic Bread Basket; the Run Across America platter featuring Bubba's Far Out Dip (with spinach, roasted red pepper, artichokes, shrimp and Monterey Jack cheese) and Chips, Chilly Shrimp (peel and eat southern-style shrimp), Greenbow Tenders (Cajun chicken strips with blue cheese sauce) and Mama Blue's Fried shrimp; Jenny's Favorite, a smoothie with cranberry juice, strawberries and raspberry frozen yogurt; the Alabama Sweet Smoothie, made of peanut butter, chocolate and vanilla frozen yogurt; a variety of shrimp options from Shrimp Shack Pasta to Dumb Luck Coconut Shrimp; Gumpberry Cobbler, consisting of seasonal berries and apples with ice cream, drizzled with raspberry sauce and walnut cookie crumbs; and Forrest's Dr. Pepper Float, in deference to Forrest's favorite beverage.
The food was delicious, and as we ate we looked around at the decor and were entertained by our waiter, a very affable fellow who quizzed us on Forrest trivia whenever he stopped at our table. How frequently he stopped was up to us. We were provided with two license plates; most of the time we kept the “Run Forrest Run” plate in view, but if we needed anything we switched to “Stop Forrest Stop.” It was a simple touch but added to the fun of the meal.
It’s a shame Bubba Gump doesn’t have more locations. I would love to go there with my family sometime. The high-quality fare makes it worthwhile for any seafood lover, while the restaurant’s theme is a special treat for fans of the film. Forrest Gump is one of my favorite movies, so I found it doubly enjoyable. This isn’t a place where you would dine frequently, but it’s a fun novelty restaurant along the lines of Hard Rock Cafe or Planet Hollywood, just with a narrower focus. Prices, while not unreasonable, are a bit hefty, and if you do go you’ll probably want to take home a reminder of your trip. I purchased a t-shirt featuring cartoonish renditions of moments from the movie. A variety of “Gump gear” is available, from t-shirts and glasses to playing cards and stationery.
Bubba Gump’s is now in nearly 20 locations – none of which, oddly enough, are in Alabama. If you happen to be in the vicinity of a Bubba Gump’s, I would certainly recommend stopping there for a leisurely lunch or dinner, particularly if you are a Forrest Gump enthusiast. The Chicago branch is open from 11 am to 11 pm Sunday through Thursday and an hour longer Friday and Saturday, though hours vary. The restaurant offers an opportunity to bring a piece of cinema to life in a most delicious manner.
Tuesday, June 29, 2004
Graphic Novel Paints a Beautiful But Painful Picture
I’m expanding my literary horizons. Or so I’d like to think. The truth
is, although I’ve always been a bookworm, I haven’t been much of a
voracious reader lately, so when two of my friends suggested I read the
book Blankets, which they and two other friends had already read
in the space of three weeks courtesy of the library, I agreed less
because it was a graphic novel than because it was something.
Books fill the hallway, spilling off of the shelves that cover the
walls, and it takes somebody else’s library book to get me to sit down
and read…
Still, the fact that it was a graphic novel intrigued me. I’d first encountered the term when reading about Road to Perdition. When I saw the Tom Hanks film was based on a graphic novel, I figured that meant it included liberal doses of the sorts of scenes I generally try to avoid. As it turned out, that description would have been entirely applicable, but by proper definition a graphic novel is written in comic book format and driven as much by the pictures as the words. When I began working at Waldenbooks, I noticed teenagers gravitating toward a particular type of graphic novel: Manga. I recently confessed my lack of familiarity with Manga to a new co-worker who cited an appreciation for the books. I admitted the thought of reading a book from back to front rather intimidated me, and he suggested I begin with Tokyo Pop, which publishes Manga-style books that read from front to back. Just two days later my friends placed this book in my hands, and while it is not Manga, having read it may prove an effective intermediate step. Or perhaps not. But even if I never read another graphic novel, Blankets was well worth the time it took me to read it.
Author and artist Craig Thompson relates a deeply personal account of his youth, focusing largely on his relationships with two particular people. Much of the novel relays events occurring when the author was in third grade, and most of these scenes involve Craig’s little brother, Phil. The two bicker incessantly, and yet there is such closeness between them that the gift of separate bedrooms becomes more a burden than a blessing to them. They would rather wrestle over the blankets than lie alone in the dark.
The scenes taking place late in Craig’s high school career revolve around Raia, a lovely young woman he meets at Bible camp, corresponds with regularly, and visits for two weeks. During that time he gains valuable insights into his relationship with Phil by observing Raia’s interactions with Ben and Laura, her devoted developmentally disabled siblings, and grows simultaneously closer to and more distant from the girl he has come to love. Blankets tells that almost necessarily bittersweet tale of first love, running its course from exhilaration to obliteration. Perhaps most fundamentally, it is a novel – perhaps memoir is a more appropriate word – about change and the cruel domination of time, a book born of the same authorial anguish that drove the 21-year-old Paul Simon to pen the worrisome words of Leaves That Are Green. “Time hurries on, and the leaves that are green turn to brown.” All that is good must fade.
For Craig, and for most who must endure the trials of growing up, this means losses on many levels. A loss of innocence. A loss of brotherly comradeship. A loss of love. A loss of faith. Religion plays a major role in Blankets, as Craig grew up in a very religious home and spent most of his childhood surrounded by fundamentalist Christians. He feels a strong sense of spirituality, a powerful call to do God’s will, but the cruelty and hypocrisy he witnesses in his fellow Christians gradually gnaws away at him, leaving him with a profound emptiness.
As I read through Blankets, I was struck by Craig’s similarity to my youngest brother. Not only did I find them physically similar, particularly in the teenage scenes, but Craig’s personality and interests are very much in tune with my brother’s. As brooding artists who tend to prefer solitude and rather like being considered oddities, I think the two would get along very well. Craig’s artistry is impressive. I was disappointed at first to discover that the book was all in black and white, but he manages to be very expressive without a wide color palette. The prominence of snow in the book sets up an interesting contrast. Many of the scenes are physically white, but there is a psychological darkness to much of the book. Craig details very dark times, and in spite of the fact that his childhood was often traumatized, his toughest trials come when he reaches the threshold between childhood and adulthood and must cross it.
Before they handed the book off to me, my friends warned me that Blankets had a few scenes that could be considered objectionable. I assured them that my college English courses had desensitized me to literary occurrences I would have found shocking in high school. Blankets does have its share of R-rated moments, from occasional strong profanity to molestation by a babysitter, but nothing that prevented me from enjoying the book. Although much of the book features Craig as a young child, I think Blankets is best reserved for those old enough to identify with the teenage Craig as well. I must admit that I felt rather depressed after I finished reading it, but I admire the author’s integrity and courage to bare his soul so honestly. His struggles with growing up resonated with me, even though my childhood bears little resemblance to his. In bemoaning the ravages of time, he celebrates life and the sacredness of each moment, making Blankets a coming of age tale to treasure.
Still, the fact that it was a graphic novel intrigued me. I’d first encountered the term when reading about Road to Perdition. When I saw the Tom Hanks film was based on a graphic novel, I figured that meant it included liberal doses of the sorts of scenes I generally try to avoid. As it turned out, that description would have been entirely applicable, but by proper definition a graphic novel is written in comic book format and driven as much by the pictures as the words. When I began working at Waldenbooks, I noticed teenagers gravitating toward a particular type of graphic novel: Manga. I recently confessed my lack of familiarity with Manga to a new co-worker who cited an appreciation for the books. I admitted the thought of reading a book from back to front rather intimidated me, and he suggested I begin with Tokyo Pop, which publishes Manga-style books that read from front to back. Just two days later my friends placed this book in my hands, and while it is not Manga, having read it may prove an effective intermediate step. Or perhaps not. But even if I never read another graphic novel, Blankets was well worth the time it took me to read it.
Author and artist Craig Thompson relates a deeply personal account of his youth, focusing largely on his relationships with two particular people. Much of the novel relays events occurring when the author was in third grade, and most of these scenes involve Craig’s little brother, Phil. The two bicker incessantly, and yet there is such closeness between them that the gift of separate bedrooms becomes more a burden than a blessing to them. They would rather wrestle over the blankets than lie alone in the dark.
The scenes taking place late in Craig’s high school career revolve around Raia, a lovely young woman he meets at Bible camp, corresponds with regularly, and visits for two weeks. During that time he gains valuable insights into his relationship with Phil by observing Raia’s interactions with Ben and Laura, her devoted developmentally disabled siblings, and grows simultaneously closer to and more distant from the girl he has come to love. Blankets tells that almost necessarily bittersweet tale of first love, running its course from exhilaration to obliteration. Perhaps most fundamentally, it is a novel – perhaps memoir is a more appropriate word – about change and the cruel domination of time, a book born of the same authorial anguish that drove the 21-year-old Paul Simon to pen the worrisome words of Leaves That Are Green. “Time hurries on, and the leaves that are green turn to brown.” All that is good must fade.
For Craig, and for most who must endure the trials of growing up, this means losses on many levels. A loss of innocence. A loss of brotherly comradeship. A loss of love. A loss of faith. Religion plays a major role in Blankets, as Craig grew up in a very religious home and spent most of his childhood surrounded by fundamentalist Christians. He feels a strong sense of spirituality, a powerful call to do God’s will, but the cruelty and hypocrisy he witnesses in his fellow Christians gradually gnaws away at him, leaving him with a profound emptiness.
As I read through Blankets, I was struck by Craig’s similarity to my youngest brother. Not only did I find them physically similar, particularly in the teenage scenes, but Craig’s personality and interests are very much in tune with my brother’s. As brooding artists who tend to prefer solitude and rather like being considered oddities, I think the two would get along very well. Craig’s artistry is impressive. I was disappointed at first to discover that the book was all in black and white, but he manages to be very expressive without a wide color palette. The prominence of snow in the book sets up an interesting contrast. Many of the scenes are physically white, but there is a psychological darkness to much of the book. Craig details very dark times, and in spite of the fact that his childhood was often traumatized, his toughest trials come when he reaches the threshold between childhood and adulthood and must cross it.
Before they handed the book off to me, my friends warned me that Blankets had a few scenes that could be considered objectionable. I assured them that my college English courses had desensitized me to literary occurrences I would have found shocking in high school. Blankets does have its share of R-rated moments, from occasional strong profanity to molestation by a babysitter, but nothing that prevented me from enjoying the book. Although much of the book features Craig as a young child, I think Blankets is best reserved for those old enough to identify with the teenage Craig as well. I must admit that I felt rather depressed after I finished reading it, but I admire the author’s integrity and courage to bare his soul so honestly. His struggles with growing up resonated with me, even though my childhood bears little resemblance to his. In bemoaning the ravages of time, he celebrates life and the sacredness of each moment, making Blankets a coming of age tale to treasure.
It's Got Questions, You've Got Answers
When I was on the phone with a friend of mine last week and, as is not
unusual for a shoddy conversationalist like myself, running out of
things to say, I happened to recall a book that had kept my best friend
and me entertained throughout several get-togethers in middle school. It
was a book we had first encountered in guidance class, when the teacher
used its contents to provoke discussions. I have no idea how I happened
to get my hands on it, but it was one of those school discoveries, like
the game Play It By Ear, that became a sleepover staple. On a whim, I
ventured out into the bookshelf-lined hallway, and lo and behold, there
it was: The Kids’ Book of Questions. Filled with 260 questions
intended to inspire thought and conversation, this handy little book
kept us talking for another couple hours, with plenty of other questions
left for another day.
Written by Dr. Gregory Stock, this book presents open-ended questions intended particularly for a juvenile reader base. Looking through the book again this time, I discovered that it followed a bestselling book simply entitled The Book of Questions. I was unaware of that book’s existence, but now I might have to see if I can find it. I can use all the conversation starters I can get. Unfortunately, because this book is geared towards kids, many of the questions don’t apply very well to adults. Many of the queries have to do with parents, teachers and “grown-ups” in general, often setting up a contrast between these people and whoever is answering the questions. Questions such as “What is your ideal bedtime?” and “What would you do if you woke up and had been magically changed into an adult?” are pretty irrelevant for a 23-year-old, but most of the questions can be altered in such a way that they suit adults as well as children. For the rest, I can just answer in retrospect.
But this book of questions was written specifically with children in mind, and for that age group the queries are especially meaningful. Some are light-hearted, while others demand more serious answers. Topics range from bullies, fears and career aspirations to censorship, religion and the perks of being an adult. Some of the more off-the-wall questions:
* If you went to the beach and discovered people there were swimming nude, would want to stay and watch or leave?
* Would you go to the mall with your dad if he dyed his hair green or would you be too embarrassed?
* If a rich kid wanted to buy your parents, how much would you ask for them if you were willing to sell them?
* If you could pick an age to be for your whole life, what age would you pick?
* If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do?
This book is not memorable for what it contains but for the aftermath of reading those questions. Great for a class or a one-on-one discussion, The Kids’ Book of Questions is a sure-fire way to get even the most reluctant conversationalist talking.
Written by Dr. Gregory Stock, this book presents open-ended questions intended particularly for a juvenile reader base. Looking through the book again this time, I discovered that it followed a bestselling book simply entitled The Book of Questions. I was unaware of that book’s existence, but now I might have to see if I can find it. I can use all the conversation starters I can get. Unfortunately, because this book is geared towards kids, many of the questions don’t apply very well to adults. Many of the queries have to do with parents, teachers and “grown-ups” in general, often setting up a contrast between these people and whoever is answering the questions. Questions such as “What is your ideal bedtime?” and “What would you do if you woke up and had been magically changed into an adult?” are pretty irrelevant for a 23-year-old, but most of the questions can be altered in such a way that they suit adults as well as children. For the rest, I can just answer in retrospect.
But this book of questions was written specifically with children in mind, and for that age group the queries are especially meaningful. Some are light-hearted, while others demand more serious answers. Topics range from bullies, fears and career aspirations to censorship, religion and the perks of being an adult. Some of the more off-the-wall questions:
* If you went to the beach and discovered people there were swimming nude, would want to stay and watch or leave?
* Would you go to the mall with your dad if he dyed his hair green or would you be too embarrassed?
* If a rich kid wanted to buy your parents, how much would you ask for them if you were willing to sell them?
* If you could pick an age to be for your whole life, what age would you pick?
* If you could be invisible for a day, what would you do?
This book is not memorable for what it contains but for the aftermath of reading those questions. Great for a class or a one-on-one discussion, The Kids’ Book of Questions is a sure-fire way to get even the most reluctant conversationalist talking.
Lithgow and Payne Set the Stage for a Squirrely Good Time
I love squirrels. I’ve spent leisurely mornings at my grandparents’
house gazing out their sliding back door at the squirrels scampering
through the trees and fighting over space in the birdfeeder. I’ve
accompanied my dad on the four-hour drive to his faculty senate meetings
in State College just so I could spend the hour or so during his
meeting outside tossing peanuts to the insatiable rodents, which are so
used to people in that location that they sometimes take nuts right out
of my hand. I’ve been the proud but frustrated owner of a squirrel
feeder since middle school. For some reason the bushy-tailed bandits
don’t like to venture into our yard; it may have something to do with
the cats…
At any rate, I am magnetically drawn to these critters, so when I first spotted Micawber, John Lithgow’s delightful tale of an artistically inclined squirrel, I was enchanted. At the time, my only familiarity with Lithgow was as an actor, and I wondered whether his authorship had more to do with the perks of his fame than any particular writing talent. My fears were immediately allayed as I settled into the cadence of his cleverly rhymed story. I have always been a fan of books in rhyme, and Lithgow has particular skill for this brand of writing. He begins with a simple ABAB scheme, which he works from throughout the remainder of the tale, expanding it when appropriate. There is a musical quality to his lines, their intricate internal rhymes, alliteration and rhythm providing a feast for the ears to match the visual glory of the illustrations.
Authors such as J. K. Rowling refuse to shy away from the use of advanced verbiage in writing intended for children; Lemony Snicket even manages to work in overt vocabulary lessons in his Series of Unfortunate Events. Despite the brevity of this book and its placement in the young children’s section of the bookstore, its lexicon is befitting a book concerning itself with the fine arts. Delicious terminology leaps out from the page, some of which I’d never even encountered before. Rare is the picture book that will incorporate such words as appraise, scrutinize, beguiler, cadmium, vermillion, alizarin, transom and the incomparable peregrination, not to mention the squirrel’s unusual nomenclature.
C. F. Payne’s delightful artwork has graced the back page of Reader’s Digest for months, and his engaging blend of detail, emotion and humor brings to mind Norman Rockwell. The comparison is especially appropriate here, as the book’s final image is a brilliant parody of Rockwell’s famous self-portrait, with Micawber peeking at his reflection in the mirror, glasses and all. Payne has a knack for capturing ordinary moments with extraordinary splendor, and Micawber springs to life under his worthy hand. The squirrel’s bright eyes and beguiling face grace the cover, his paint-dipped tail providing a clue as to the direction the book will take.
Several two-page spreads feature a full-page illustration facing a white page containing only a few lines of text and several spatters of paint. Micawber appears in every picture, though it is sometimes hard to spot him, sneak that he is. We watch as his eyes light up with inspiration after witnessing a local artist imitate the works in the art museum he loves. His innate sense of mischief is most perfectly displayed towards the middle of the book, when he discovers color. His hands clasped together gleefully, face set in a slightly demonic smile, he surveys the results of squeezing several tubes of paint onto a waiting palette. Payne also charmingly captures the oblivious nature of his benefactor, a bespectacled woman with plenty of art supplies to spare.
This book sold me on Lithgow and Payne. Their combined talents create one of the most beguiling books I have encountered recently, and I commend them both. Micawber is sure to delight rabid squirrel fans like myself and appreciators of fine art, but its witty style and lavish illustrations are sure to draw in fans from all walks of life.
At any rate, I am magnetically drawn to these critters, so when I first spotted Micawber, John Lithgow’s delightful tale of an artistically inclined squirrel, I was enchanted. At the time, my only familiarity with Lithgow was as an actor, and I wondered whether his authorship had more to do with the perks of his fame than any particular writing talent. My fears were immediately allayed as I settled into the cadence of his cleverly rhymed story. I have always been a fan of books in rhyme, and Lithgow has particular skill for this brand of writing. He begins with a simple ABAB scheme, which he works from throughout the remainder of the tale, expanding it when appropriate. There is a musical quality to his lines, their intricate internal rhymes, alliteration and rhythm providing a feast for the ears to match the visual glory of the illustrations.
Authors such as J. K. Rowling refuse to shy away from the use of advanced verbiage in writing intended for children; Lemony Snicket even manages to work in overt vocabulary lessons in his Series of Unfortunate Events. Despite the brevity of this book and its placement in the young children’s section of the bookstore, its lexicon is befitting a book concerning itself with the fine arts. Delicious terminology leaps out from the page, some of which I’d never even encountered before. Rare is the picture book that will incorporate such words as appraise, scrutinize, beguiler, cadmium, vermillion, alizarin, transom and the incomparable peregrination, not to mention the squirrel’s unusual nomenclature.
C. F. Payne’s delightful artwork has graced the back page of Reader’s Digest for months, and his engaging blend of detail, emotion and humor brings to mind Norman Rockwell. The comparison is especially appropriate here, as the book’s final image is a brilliant parody of Rockwell’s famous self-portrait, with Micawber peeking at his reflection in the mirror, glasses and all. Payne has a knack for capturing ordinary moments with extraordinary splendor, and Micawber springs to life under his worthy hand. The squirrel’s bright eyes and beguiling face grace the cover, his paint-dipped tail providing a clue as to the direction the book will take.
Several two-page spreads feature a full-page illustration facing a white page containing only a few lines of text and several spatters of paint. Micawber appears in every picture, though it is sometimes hard to spot him, sneak that he is. We watch as his eyes light up with inspiration after witnessing a local artist imitate the works in the art museum he loves. His innate sense of mischief is most perfectly displayed towards the middle of the book, when he discovers color. His hands clasped together gleefully, face set in a slightly demonic smile, he surveys the results of squeezing several tubes of paint onto a waiting palette. Payne also charmingly captures the oblivious nature of his benefactor, a bespectacled woman with plenty of art supplies to spare.
This book sold me on Lithgow and Payne. Their combined talents create one of the most beguiling books I have encountered recently, and I commend them both. Micawber is sure to delight rabid squirrel fans like myself and appreciators of fine art, but its witty style and lavish illustrations are sure to draw in fans from all walks of life.
Saturday, June 26, 2004
Return a Glorious Conglomeration of Triumph and Tragedy
The Return of the King is both the shortest and the longest installment of The Lord of the Rings.
Although it contains the fewest pages of narration, it includes upwards
of a hundred pages of appendices. These informational additions deal
mainly with history and language, and while they are illuminating,
they’re also pretty dry. For the most part, they read like a textbook.
The most interesting histories, at least for me, involve the further
exploits of characters who play a major role in Lord of the Rings. Following the appendices are four indexes, each of which is quite handy.
But it’s the story that I’m really interested in, and Tolkien brings us into it right away – though, frustratingly, he again leaves us to wonder for half the book what Frodo and Sam are up to. This is particularly disheartening in Return, as Two Towers leaves them in such a dire situation. The first part of Return is filled with grand battles against fierce enemies. It seems that while Frodo and Sam are quietly inching their way toward Mount Doom, the rest of the world is engaged in a fierce cosmic conflict. The discouraging truth is that no matter how valiantly Gandalf, Aragorn and the rest hold back the enemy, they cannot defeat it. The fate of the Middle-earth rests in the hands of two hobbits… and, perhaps, a third.
Return finds the steadfast pairs of Merry and Pippin and Frodo and Sam split up for the first time in their quest. This separation is grueling but in three out of four cases allows them to discover untapped reserves of valor. Pippin finds himself in the service of Denethor, degenerate steward of Gondor, and bonds with Beregond, one of the guards. When Denethor’s addled wits lead him to order the immolation of himself and his son, Faramir, Pippin must depend upon his own sense of discernment and his newfound friend in order to save Faramir. Merry pledges himself to a gentler monarch, the fatherly Theoden, and obtains the unexpected assistance of a mysterious soldier named Dernhelm when his lord forbids him to prove his loyalty in battle.
Sam now emerges as the true hero of the book, the one who must somehow rescue his master and sustain him through the treacherous trek to Mount Doom. He remains the least changed of the four companions, yet he displays courage that never would have been required of him before his departure from the Shire. In the opening pages of the second part of Return, we are struck with the sense that this has become Sam’s story. This is re-affirmed later when he lovingly restores the beauty of the Shire Saruman so nearly destroyed, when he inherits the book containing the account of their quest, and when he ends the most complex of tales with the simplest of comments: “Well, I’m back.”
Although this quest belongs most fundamentally to the hobbits, most of the characters contribute in some way, whether by intention or not, to its completion. The most powerful figures for the side of good in Return are Gandalf, returned to Middle-earth for the purpose of seeing the conflict through to its conclusion, and Aragorn, who must assume his kingly role in order to lead the charge against the enemy, heal the most grievous of his comrades’ injuries and prepare for the restoration of Gondor. Gandalf’s prediction that Gollum would have some role to play yet is seen to fruition in a most unexpected manner that is equally triumphant and tragic. The quest succeeds because people are good but also because they are fallen.
Oddly enough, while the military maneuverings of Rohan and Gondor fill half the book, the all-important final leg of Frodo and Sam’s journey takes only three chapters. The most frequent complaint I heard and read about Jackson’s final film installment was that there was too much movie following the destruction of the Ring. In the book, this gradual ending makes up the greater portion of the second part of Return. Moreover, the battle is not over after the Ring is destroyed. The hobbits are heartbroken to discover their own pristine homeland tainted by Saruman’s malice, and while Frodo is too weakened to play a very active role, Merry, Pippin and Sam must purge the Shire of its evil. We also see that Frodo is most fundamentally altered by his experience, to the point that he can no longer feel at home in the Shire he sacrificed so much to save.
Return is a glorious ending to Tolkien’s masterpiece. The book ends as we think it ought to, but not entirely. Tolkien presents us with an enchanting land and shows its magic gradually slipping away, a tragic process that cannot be amended with the destruction of the Ring. Indeed, in some ways the quest’s success hastens such changes, as it robs the Elves of their ability to maintain in Middle-earth an environment suitable for their ethereality. Frodo’s departure is elegiac, a tribute to his effort but a reminder of his failure. Yet it seems a harder blow to Sam than Frodo, who always seemed a bit aloof and more deeply fond of Bilbo and Gandalf than even his faithful servant. That the three should leave together is fitting. And though the Fourth Age promises to be far less enchanting than the Third, Tolkien’s decision to leave us with Sam instills hope that many good times are yet to come.
But it’s the story that I’m really interested in, and Tolkien brings us into it right away – though, frustratingly, he again leaves us to wonder for half the book what Frodo and Sam are up to. This is particularly disheartening in Return, as Two Towers leaves them in such a dire situation. The first part of Return is filled with grand battles against fierce enemies. It seems that while Frodo and Sam are quietly inching their way toward Mount Doom, the rest of the world is engaged in a fierce cosmic conflict. The discouraging truth is that no matter how valiantly Gandalf, Aragorn and the rest hold back the enemy, they cannot defeat it. The fate of the Middle-earth rests in the hands of two hobbits… and, perhaps, a third.
Return finds the steadfast pairs of Merry and Pippin and Frodo and Sam split up for the first time in their quest. This separation is grueling but in three out of four cases allows them to discover untapped reserves of valor. Pippin finds himself in the service of Denethor, degenerate steward of Gondor, and bonds with Beregond, one of the guards. When Denethor’s addled wits lead him to order the immolation of himself and his son, Faramir, Pippin must depend upon his own sense of discernment and his newfound friend in order to save Faramir. Merry pledges himself to a gentler monarch, the fatherly Theoden, and obtains the unexpected assistance of a mysterious soldier named Dernhelm when his lord forbids him to prove his loyalty in battle.
Sam now emerges as the true hero of the book, the one who must somehow rescue his master and sustain him through the treacherous trek to Mount Doom. He remains the least changed of the four companions, yet he displays courage that never would have been required of him before his departure from the Shire. In the opening pages of the second part of Return, we are struck with the sense that this has become Sam’s story. This is re-affirmed later when he lovingly restores the beauty of the Shire Saruman so nearly destroyed, when he inherits the book containing the account of their quest, and when he ends the most complex of tales with the simplest of comments: “Well, I’m back.”
Although this quest belongs most fundamentally to the hobbits, most of the characters contribute in some way, whether by intention or not, to its completion. The most powerful figures for the side of good in Return are Gandalf, returned to Middle-earth for the purpose of seeing the conflict through to its conclusion, and Aragorn, who must assume his kingly role in order to lead the charge against the enemy, heal the most grievous of his comrades’ injuries and prepare for the restoration of Gondor. Gandalf’s prediction that Gollum would have some role to play yet is seen to fruition in a most unexpected manner that is equally triumphant and tragic. The quest succeeds because people are good but also because they are fallen.
Oddly enough, while the military maneuverings of Rohan and Gondor fill half the book, the all-important final leg of Frodo and Sam’s journey takes only three chapters. The most frequent complaint I heard and read about Jackson’s final film installment was that there was too much movie following the destruction of the Ring. In the book, this gradual ending makes up the greater portion of the second part of Return. Moreover, the battle is not over after the Ring is destroyed. The hobbits are heartbroken to discover their own pristine homeland tainted by Saruman’s malice, and while Frodo is too weakened to play a very active role, Merry, Pippin and Sam must purge the Shire of its evil. We also see that Frodo is most fundamentally altered by his experience, to the point that he can no longer feel at home in the Shire he sacrificed so much to save.
Return is a glorious ending to Tolkien’s masterpiece. The book ends as we think it ought to, but not entirely. Tolkien presents us with an enchanting land and shows its magic gradually slipping away, a tragic process that cannot be amended with the destruction of the Ring. Indeed, in some ways the quest’s success hastens such changes, as it robs the Elves of their ability to maintain in Middle-earth an environment suitable for their ethereality. Frodo’s departure is elegiac, a tribute to his effort but a reminder of his failure. Yet it seems a harder blow to Sam than Frodo, who always seemed a bit aloof and more deeply fond of Bilbo and Gandalf than even his faithful servant. That the three should leave together is fitting. And though the Fourth Age promises to be far less enchanting than the Third, Tolkien’s decision to leave us with Sam instills hope that many good times are yet to come.
Two Towers May Muddle Your Mind a Bit, But It's Worth It
If you loved The Hobbit, then Fellowship of the Ring is a natural progression, lengthier, more difficult, more complex than the former, but not entirely foreign. The Two Towers
brings readers into new territory. I sometimes think of it as the
muddle in the middle, though any muddling has only to do with my limited
capacity for readerly multi-tasking. Tolkien toiled for years on this
portion of his book, and it is only fitting that it is the most
difficult volume for his audience to digest.
Two Towers begins shortly after the breaking of the Fellowship. Frodo and Sam have set out on their own, though Tolkien tries his readers’ wills by abandoning the Ringbearer and his faithful servant until the second part of the book. His first focus is on the small party of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. After a wrenching scene in the opening pages in which Boromir succumbs to the fatal wounds incurred during his efforts to save Merry and Pippin, the man, the elf and the dwarf set off in hot pursuit of the hobbits, who have been captured by Orcs. Meanwhile, the hobbits manage a clever escape, only to find themselves in the foreboding Fangorn Forest, where they are soon met by Treebeard the Ent, an enormous tree-like creature whose job is to act as shepherd for the trees. It takes quite some time before these two separated parties reconvene, and when they do it is with a powerful new ally: Gandalf, returned from the abyss and given the title Gandalf the White.
In addition to the Ents, this volume introduces Theoden, the king of Rohan who has sunken so deeply into despair that he is no longer capable of ruling his country. Instead, he relies upon Wormtongue, his corrupt advisor, who is himself answerable to the wizard Saruman. We also meet Theoden’s nephew Eomer and, more importantly, his niece Eowyn, a valiant woman who quickly develops a crush on Aragorn. Tolkien also introduces us to Faramir, brother of the fallen Boromir, while bringing the character of Gollum, lurking in the background throughout Fellowship, into the forefront.
There’s an awful lot going on in this book, and the events are grander than those in Fellowship. Merry and Pippin play a part in a major battle at Isengard, Saruman’s stronghold, while the others muster their strength to battle the Orcs that have laid siege to the fortress of Helm’s Deep. When we finally get back to them, Frodo and Sam have a quieter journey to make, but no less treacherous. They reluctantly find themselves in the company of Gollum, with the untrustworthy creature acting as their guide. As Sam’s mistrust and jealousy increases, Frodo’s self-control begins to slip, and the success of the mission grows more unlikely with each passing day.
Two Towers is grim, with few reprieves in the darkness that begins to encompass the remaining members of the Fellowship. There are moments, though. I loved Merry and Pippin’s stay in Fangorn when Dad read it to me, complete with Treebeard’s deep, rumbling voice, a tribute to Tolkien’s close friend and fellow fantasy writer C. S. Lewis. He is one of Tolkien’s most unique and enjoyable characters, with his long, rambling speech and his mixture of grandfatherly charm and ageless tragedy. His agonizingly unhasty manner of speaking is as entertaining as his account of the lost Entwives is heartbreaking. There is also Gandalf’s glorious reappearance, as awe-inspiring as his apparent death was devastating.
Merry and Pippin’s characteristic levity elicits smiles throughout the first part of the book. Their ability to adapt cheerfully to dire situations – particularly when they have one another for support – is especially evident after they escape the Orcs, but perhaps their most unabashedly gleeful scenes occur upon their long-awaited reunion with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. In the second part of the book, Gollum, the agonized creature who is perhaps the most morally ambiguous of Tolkien’s characters, provides a few laughs. But while amusement at Merry and Pippin’s antics stems from their carefree camaraderie, Gollum’s utter desolation and degradation almost requires that any laughs he garners be tinged with pity. It’s difficult to determine how to react to this throwback to The Hobbit. Although he was depicted as sinister and an obstacle to Bilbo, Gollum always struck me as more pitiable than threatening. Here, he alternates between submissive and menacing – “Slinker” and “Stinker,” as Sam puts it. While he plots to reclaim the Ring, he develops some degree of devotion to the hobbit who continues to offer him mercy and understanding.
Gollum’s dynamic struggles are my favorite part of this installment. Unfortunately, his presence brings out the worst in Sam. Their food-related quarrel in Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit is amusing, but it underscores their mutual animosity. Although Sam is looking out for Frodo and much of his disdain stems from a warranted distrust of Gollum, his barely submerged envy is a large contributor to his behavior. Sam’s best moments here occur when he is separated from Gollum, particularly in the presence of the noble but initially intimidating Faramir and, at the end of the book, when he is left alone. His worst may have proven the ultimate stumbling block to Gollum’s redemption.
Two Towers is the bridge between Fellowship and Return of the King, and within its pages lie brilliant new characters and cataclysmic events. Although I would probably have to say that this second installment is my least favorite of the three, I still love it. You may struggle with it a bit more than Fellowship, but stick with it. You’ll be glad you did.
Two Towers begins shortly after the breaking of the Fellowship. Frodo and Sam have set out on their own, though Tolkien tries his readers’ wills by abandoning the Ringbearer and his faithful servant until the second part of the book. His first focus is on the small party of Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. After a wrenching scene in the opening pages in which Boromir succumbs to the fatal wounds incurred during his efforts to save Merry and Pippin, the man, the elf and the dwarf set off in hot pursuit of the hobbits, who have been captured by Orcs. Meanwhile, the hobbits manage a clever escape, only to find themselves in the foreboding Fangorn Forest, where they are soon met by Treebeard the Ent, an enormous tree-like creature whose job is to act as shepherd for the trees. It takes quite some time before these two separated parties reconvene, and when they do it is with a powerful new ally: Gandalf, returned from the abyss and given the title Gandalf the White.
In addition to the Ents, this volume introduces Theoden, the king of Rohan who has sunken so deeply into despair that he is no longer capable of ruling his country. Instead, he relies upon Wormtongue, his corrupt advisor, who is himself answerable to the wizard Saruman. We also meet Theoden’s nephew Eomer and, more importantly, his niece Eowyn, a valiant woman who quickly develops a crush on Aragorn. Tolkien also introduces us to Faramir, brother of the fallen Boromir, while bringing the character of Gollum, lurking in the background throughout Fellowship, into the forefront.
There’s an awful lot going on in this book, and the events are grander than those in Fellowship. Merry and Pippin play a part in a major battle at Isengard, Saruman’s stronghold, while the others muster their strength to battle the Orcs that have laid siege to the fortress of Helm’s Deep. When we finally get back to them, Frodo and Sam have a quieter journey to make, but no less treacherous. They reluctantly find themselves in the company of Gollum, with the untrustworthy creature acting as their guide. As Sam’s mistrust and jealousy increases, Frodo’s self-control begins to slip, and the success of the mission grows more unlikely with each passing day.
Two Towers is grim, with few reprieves in the darkness that begins to encompass the remaining members of the Fellowship. There are moments, though. I loved Merry and Pippin’s stay in Fangorn when Dad read it to me, complete with Treebeard’s deep, rumbling voice, a tribute to Tolkien’s close friend and fellow fantasy writer C. S. Lewis. He is one of Tolkien’s most unique and enjoyable characters, with his long, rambling speech and his mixture of grandfatherly charm and ageless tragedy. His agonizingly unhasty manner of speaking is as entertaining as his account of the lost Entwives is heartbreaking. There is also Gandalf’s glorious reappearance, as awe-inspiring as his apparent death was devastating.
Merry and Pippin’s characteristic levity elicits smiles throughout the first part of the book. Their ability to adapt cheerfully to dire situations – particularly when they have one another for support – is especially evident after they escape the Orcs, but perhaps their most unabashedly gleeful scenes occur upon their long-awaited reunion with Aragorn, Legolas and Gimli. In the second part of the book, Gollum, the agonized creature who is perhaps the most morally ambiguous of Tolkien’s characters, provides a few laughs. But while amusement at Merry and Pippin’s antics stems from their carefree camaraderie, Gollum’s utter desolation and degradation almost requires that any laughs he garners be tinged with pity. It’s difficult to determine how to react to this throwback to The Hobbit. Although he was depicted as sinister and an obstacle to Bilbo, Gollum always struck me as more pitiable than threatening. Here, he alternates between submissive and menacing – “Slinker” and “Stinker,” as Sam puts it. While he plots to reclaim the Ring, he develops some degree of devotion to the hobbit who continues to offer him mercy and understanding.
Gollum’s dynamic struggles are my favorite part of this installment. Unfortunately, his presence brings out the worst in Sam. Their food-related quarrel in Of Herbs and Stewed Rabbit is amusing, but it underscores their mutual animosity. Although Sam is looking out for Frodo and much of his disdain stems from a warranted distrust of Gollum, his barely submerged envy is a large contributor to his behavior. Sam’s best moments here occur when he is separated from Gollum, particularly in the presence of the noble but initially intimidating Faramir and, at the end of the book, when he is left alone. His worst may have proven the ultimate stumbling block to Gollum’s redemption.
Two Towers is the bridge between Fellowship and Return of the King, and within its pages lie brilliant new characters and cataclysmic events. Although I would probably have to say that this second installment is my least favorite of the three, I still love it. You may struggle with it a bit more than Fellowship, but stick with it. You’ll be glad you did.
Thursday, June 24, 2004
Fellowship a Fine Beginning to the Epic to End All Epics
As you may have guessed from my name, I am in fact a hobbit. At
least, I like to reiterate the famous quote by Professor Tolkien, and I
have always considered his first furry-footed protagonist to be my
literary counterpart. I tend to think that there is more about me than
people suspect. And if I could find some way to settle in the Shire,
you’d better believe I would! It is through Bilbo that I found my way
into Middle-earth, and The Hobbit will always occupy a sacred
space in my hierarchy of beloved books. But I’ve already reviewed that
tome, though it was my second review here and didn’t begin to do the
book justice. One day I’ll rectify that, but for now, on to bigger and
better things.
The other day I went to a local book sale and happened upon a 40-year-old paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. It interested me particularly because of the warning on the back, drawn from the preface, in which Tolkien appeals to his fans to buy this edition of his book and not one of the many unauthorized versions floating around. “It seems to me a grave discourtesy, to say no more, to issue my book without even a polite note informing me of the project: dealings one might expect of Saruman in his decay rather than from the defenders of the West… Those who approve of courtesy (at least) to living authors will purchase [this paperback edition] and no other.” Tolkien’s eloquent wit here made it one of the best investments of 20 cents I’ve ever made. And why shouldn’t he have such a say in the distribution of his work? Tolkien’s accomplishment with The Lord of the Rings was monumental, and he had every right to feel possessive of it, even though Middle-earth soon grew to be a domain claimed by millions, many of whom were just as passionate about the material as the author himself.
I recently re-read Lord of the Rings, though of the three volumes, Fellowship is the only one I can in all honesty say I technically “re-read.” I read it myself in ninth grade, but with all the schoolwork surrounding me I didn’t have time to get bogged down in The Two Towers, the murky middle section that so often stumped its author. It took my dad three years to read Lord of the Rings to me. It took him two years to read The Two Towers. It was a combination of fearing the slog through this second volume and not wanting the break the sacredness of having had the book read to me by my dad that kept me from reading through the entire book until this year.
Part of the charm of Fellowship is that, in the first couple chapters, you can see its origins as sequel to The Hobbit. Initially, Bilbo is front and center, with Gandalf, that other key player from The Hobbit, also in prominence. The narration is much more detached, but there are still traces of the cozy conversational style that drove its predecessor. At first, there’s even the slight possibility that it might be Bilbo’s further adventures we are following, rather than Frodo’s. At any rate, we are dealing with hobbits, and it takes quite a while to get out of the Shire. Many readers complain that it takes too long for the book to get going, but I love the gradual departure from the hobbits’ idyllic homeland and all the enchanting opportunities it affords. Although the Nazgul first make their appearance early on, and we also are treated to the independent malevolence of Old Man Willow and the barrow wights, there’s a sense in which this doesn’t truly depart from the formula of The Hobbit until the fateful meeting more than 200 pages in with the mysterious stranger in Bree known as Strider.
Before this, we’re treated to Bilbo’s grand party in the opening chapter standing in marvelous contrast to The Unexpected Party. We’re introduced to the Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, the four young hobbits who will play such a vital role in the epic adventure to come. We get the strange momentary peek into a fox’s thoughts as it observes the hobbits in his woods and the long dalliance at the home of the anomalous Tom Bombadil. My brother’s literature teacher complained to the class once about how stupid Lord of the Rings was; it was just about eating and taking baths. This struck me as a patently ridiculous statement, but if you don’t read any farther than Bree, it’s actually not completely off base. Nonetheless, the opening leg of the journey allows us lots of time to see the hobbits in their element and grow to love them before their camaraderie is interrupted by the inclusion of other members in the Fellowship and, eventually, circumstances that will separate them from one another for a long time.
One enjoyable aspect of Fellowship is that it is so straight-forward. We follow the same people on a journey that they make together. The number of companions grows from three to nine, but they all follow the same path and we don’t have to follow them in separate directions until The Two Towers. This makes Fellowship easily the least confusing of the three, and it allows the most opportunity for character development. The interactions of the Fellowship members are uncluttered by all the outside forces and complicated scenarios that fill the later volumes. There is particular beauty in how each remaining member deals with the iconic descent of Gandalf towards the end of the book.
Though Sam becomes the most heroic figure in Return of the King, I am perhaps most in love with him here. His sweet simplicity, gentle wisdom, innate comedy, connection to the earth and humble spirituality all come to light in Fellowship, and my biggest disappointment with the superb film was that these aspects of his personality were not tapped into more fully. In fact, they were often subverted, a decision that I still have trouble finding justifiable. For instance, one of my favorite Sam moments is when, after being charged with the task of accompanying Frodo, he responds in the following manner: “‘Me, sir!’cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. ‘Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!’ he shouted, and then burst into tears.” While I love the beginning of this scene in the film, the utter absence – and apparent reversal – of its enthusiastic and awe-filled conclusion struck me as one of the movie’s most unfortunate omissions. The filmmakers did such a beautiful job with Pippin’s characterization in Fellowship. Why couldn’t they extend the same courtesy to Sam?
Another particularly nice aspect of Fellowship is the abundance of poetry. Now, there are probably many who would disagree with me on this point, as I have come to understand that Tolkien’s verse is generally not very highly praised. Still, I like it, and I am particularly fond of Sam’s poem about Old Tom and the troll. When Dad first read that to my brother and me, we loved it so much that we demanded he read it again. After a second recitation, my brother, then nine, declared the moral of the story to be that “a boot in the booty makes you feel fruity.” Whatever that means… Other favorites include the epic of Earendil the Mariner, composed and recited by Bilbo in Rivendell and considered by many to be Tolkien’s best poem, and Frodo’s eulogy for Gandalf. Though there is some verse scattered throughout Two Towers and Return of the King, the vast majority can be found here.
Fellowship is the journey-before-the-journey, fraught with harrowing adventures but only a premonition of the travails to come. Although I love the whole of Lord of the Rings, this installment is my favorite. If you’ve never given the book a try, let yourself be drawn into the beauty of the Shire and the utter malignance of the force that threatens it. And at least read as far as Bree before you dismiss it as being a boring tome obsessed with eating and bathing.
The other day I went to a local book sale and happened upon a 40-year-old paperback copy of The Fellowship of the Ring. It interested me particularly because of the warning on the back, drawn from the preface, in which Tolkien appeals to his fans to buy this edition of his book and not one of the many unauthorized versions floating around. “It seems to me a grave discourtesy, to say no more, to issue my book without even a polite note informing me of the project: dealings one might expect of Saruman in his decay rather than from the defenders of the West… Those who approve of courtesy (at least) to living authors will purchase [this paperback edition] and no other.” Tolkien’s eloquent wit here made it one of the best investments of 20 cents I’ve ever made. And why shouldn’t he have such a say in the distribution of his work? Tolkien’s accomplishment with The Lord of the Rings was monumental, and he had every right to feel possessive of it, even though Middle-earth soon grew to be a domain claimed by millions, many of whom were just as passionate about the material as the author himself.
I recently re-read Lord of the Rings, though of the three volumes, Fellowship is the only one I can in all honesty say I technically “re-read.” I read it myself in ninth grade, but with all the schoolwork surrounding me I didn’t have time to get bogged down in The Two Towers, the murky middle section that so often stumped its author. It took my dad three years to read Lord of the Rings to me. It took him two years to read The Two Towers. It was a combination of fearing the slog through this second volume and not wanting the break the sacredness of having had the book read to me by my dad that kept me from reading through the entire book until this year.
Part of the charm of Fellowship is that, in the first couple chapters, you can see its origins as sequel to The Hobbit. Initially, Bilbo is front and center, with Gandalf, that other key player from The Hobbit, also in prominence. The narration is much more detached, but there are still traces of the cozy conversational style that drove its predecessor. At first, there’s even the slight possibility that it might be Bilbo’s further adventures we are following, rather than Frodo’s. At any rate, we are dealing with hobbits, and it takes quite a while to get out of the Shire. Many readers complain that it takes too long for the book to get going, but I love the gradual departure from the hobbits’ idyllic homeland and all the enchanting opportunities it affords. Although the Nazgul first make their appearance early on, and we also are treated to the independent malevolence of Old Man Willow and the barrow wights, there’s a sense in which this doesn’t truly depart from the formula of The Hobbit until the fateful meeting more than 200 pages in with the mysterious stranger in Bree known as Strider.
Before this, we’re treated to Bilbo’s grand party in the opening chapter standing in marvelous contrast to The Unexpected Party. We’re introduced to the Frodo, Sam, Merry and Pippin, the four young hobbits who will play such a vital role in the epic adventure to come. We get the strange momentary peek into a fox’s thoughts as it observes the hobbits in his woods and the long dalliance at the home of the anomalous Tom Bombadil. My brother’s literature teacher complained to the class once about how stupid Lord of the Rings was; it was just about eating and taking baths. This struck me as a patently ridiculous statement, but if you don’t read any farther than Bree, it’s actually not completely off base. Nonetheless, the opening leg of the journey allows us lots of time to see the hobbits in their element and grow to love them before their camaraderie is interrupted by the inclusion of other members in the Fellowship and, eventually, circumstances that will separate them from one another for a long time.
One enjoyable aspect of Fellowship is that it is so straight-forward. We follow the same people on a journey that they make together. The number of companions grows from three to nine, but they all follow the same path and we don’t have to follow them in separate directions until The Two Towers. This makes Fellowship easily the least confusing of the three, and it allows the most opportunity for character development. The interactions of the Fellowship members are uncluttered by all the outside forces and complicated scenarios that fill the later volumes. There is particular beauty in how each remaining member deals with the iconic descent of Gandalf towards the end of the book.
Though Sam becomes the most heroic figure in Return of the King, I am perhaps most in love with him here. His sweet simplicity, gentle wisdom, innate comedy, connection to the earth and humble spirituality all come to light in Fellowship, and my biggest disappointment with the superb film was that these aspects of his personality were not tapped into more fully. In fact, they were often subverted, a decision that I still have trouble finding justifiable. For instance, one of my favorite Sam moments is when, after being charged with the task of accompanying Frodo, he responds in the following manner: “‘Me, sir!’cried Sam, springing up like a dog invited for a walk. ‘Me go and see Elves and all! Hooray!’ he shouted, and then burst into tears.” While I love the beginning of this scene in the film, the utter absence – and apparent reversal – of its enthusiastic and awe-filled conclusion struck me as one of the movie’s most unfortunate omissions. The filmmakers did such a beautiful job with Pippin’s characterization in Fellowship. Why couldn’t they extend the same courtesy to Sam?
Another particularly nice aspect of Fellowship is the abundance of poetry. Now, there are probably many who would disagree with me on this point, as I have come to understand that Tolkien’s verse is generally not very highly praised. Still, I like it, and I am particularly fond of Sam’s poem about Old Tom and the troll. When Dad first read that to my brother and me, we loved it so much that we demanded he read it again. After a second recitation, my brother, then nine, declared the moral of the story to be that “a boot in the booty makes you feel fruity.” Whatever that means… Other favorites include the epic of Earendil the Mariner, composed and recited by Bilbo in Rivendell and considered by many to be Tolkien’s best poem, and Frodo’s eulogy for Gandalf. Though there is some verse scattered throughout Two Towers and Return of the King, the vast majority can be found here.
Fellowship is the journey-before-the-journey, fraught with harrowing adventures but only a premonition of the travails to come. Although I love the whole of Lord of the Rings, this installment is my favorite. If you’ve never given the book a try, let yourself be drawn into the beauty of the Shire and the utter malignance of the force that threatens it. And at least read as far as Bree before you dismiss it as being a boring tome obsessed with eating and bathing.
"Why Not Another W/O? WO" Until I Come Up With Another Real Review...
1) Age:
I am 23 biologically, 10 at heart.
(2) Sex:
Female
(3) Children?
Nope.
(4) Siblings?
Yes, two - one brother in college and one in high school.
(5) If so are you older or younger?
I'm the oldest in the family, though I sometimes feel like the youngest.
(6) Favorite Color?
Blue. It's such a cool, soothing color. Or green, because it reminds me of Ireland.
(7) Do you collect anything?
I collect a lot of stuff, and would collect more if I could. I have collections of bells, stamps, coins, trolls, Winnie-the-Pooh stuff, Simon and Garfunkel stuff, Lord of the Rings stuff, books... Yeah, lots of stuff.
(8) If you could be any animal what would it be and why?
Probably some kind of bird so I could fly.
(9) Who is your favorite actor?
There are so many actors I like... I'd probably have to go with Tom Hanks, but I've got a real soft spot for Haley Joel Osment, and Billy Boyd is divine.
(10) Favorite actress?
Probably Julie Andrews; LOVE Sound of Music and Mary Poppins. Current-day, maybe Nicole Kidman.
(11) What do you hate more than anything?
War and cigarettes.
(12) If you could be the President for one day what would you do?
I don't want that much responsibility...
(13) Who is your best friend?
I'm never good at picking favorites. I'll be a cop-out and give a nod to my little brother Nathan. He's one groovy dude.
(14) Are you passive or aggressive?
Very passive.
(15) What is your dream job?
I really want to be a writer, but I've got to get my groove back...
(16) What is your worst habit?
Probably my anxiety. I guess that's not really a habit, but it certainly causes me a lot of problems.
(17) What is your greatest asset?
I've always said it was my writing ability, but that seems to have been rather lacking lately, particularly my ability to come up with stories.
(18) Would you rather :(a)WALK (b)DRIVE (c)FLY?
Walk. I've got a definite Luddite strain in me. I think I've got a built-in disdain for cars; maybe that's why I always get carsick. I'm 23 and I don't drive and I don't want to. Airplanes make me nervous...
(19) If you went camping, you would sleep:(a)IN A TENT
(b)UNDER THE STARS (c)IN A HOTEL?
Who camps in a hotel??? I guess I'd have to say in a tent, because I always do, but under the stars would be cool.
(20) If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why?
I want to be able to fly!!!
(21) Favorite cartoon character?
Winnie-the-Pooh. I'm such a big Pooh fan and I've got a huge collection. I think he is fairly akin to hobbits, and the Hundred-Acre Wood is like the Shire. I want to live there.
(22) Party: ALL NIGHT LONG OR WHAT'S THAT??
What's that??? I am definitely not a party animal.
(23) How many reviews have you written?
This makes 536 reviews. I keep wanting to do one per day or something like that, but I can never keep it up...
(24) How many members trust you?
103 now. Yay!!!
(25) Who was the first member to trust you?
It's too long ago for me to remember, and the "date added" doesn't go back that far.
(26) Who was the first member you trusted?
Ditto to number 25.
(27) Favorite category to write in?
Sometimes music, sometimes movies.
(28) What is the best review you have written?
Hm. I've written an awful lot of reviews. Well, the longest was of the Simon and Garfunkel concert. I don't know if it's my best, but it's probably one of them.
(29) What is the worst review you have written?
One of my early reviews. I wrote a ton of reviews when I first joined, but a lot of them were really short and shoddy.
(30) If you could be one member, who would it be and why?
I can't pick just one!
(31) If you could change one thing about WOT??
Maybe something to indicate when a member takes me off their trust list. Sometimes somebody stops trusting me and it takes me a long time to figure out who it is.
(32) If you could change one thing about Rating?
I wish I didn't have to give numerical ratings in my reviews. I'm not much good at that.
(33) If you could change one thing about Writing?
I can't ever seem to come up with anything anymore. Sometimes I think, aside from reviews, I've lost my ability to write, and that's a really depressing thought.
(34) If you could change your member name, what would you change it to and why??
I like my name, but if I changed it the new name would probably have something to do with Simon and Garfunkel. Maybe BridgeOverTroubledWater or something. Or SilverGirl... I like the idea of Art Garfunkel sailing behind me!
*****DRUM ROLL*****
I know this one is going to be hard for most of you, but we are all grown here, answer honestly...and just ONE!!
(35) Who is your mentor here at Epinions?
I've been a member here for four years, and there have been so many. I'm sorry, I just can't do it!!
I am 23 biologically, 10 at heart.
(2) Sex:
Female
(3) Children?
Nope.
(4) Siblings?
Yes, two - one brother in college and one in high school.
(5) If so are you older or younger?
I'm the oldest in the family, though I sometimes feel like the youngest.
(6) Favorite Color?
Blue. It's such a cool, soothing color. Or green, because it reminds me of Ireland.
(7) Do you collect anything?
I collect a lot of stuff, and would collect more if I could. I have collections of bells, stamps, coins, trolls, Winnie-the-Pooh stuff, Simon and Garfunkel stuff, Lord of the Rings stuff, books... Yeah, lots of stuff.
(8) If you could be any animal what would it be and why?
Probably some kind of bird so I could fly.
(9) Who is your favorite actor?
There are so many actors I like... I'd probably have to go with Tom Hanks, but I've got a real soft spot for Haley Joel Osment, and Billy Boyd is divine.
(10) Favorite actress?
Probably Julie Andrews; LOVE Sound of Music and Mary Poppins. Current-day, maybe Nicole Kidman.
(11) What do you hate more than anything?
War and cigarettes.
(12) If you could be the President for one day what would you do?
I don't want that much responsibility...
(13) Who is your best friend?
I'm never good at picking favorites. I'll be a cop-out and give a nod to my little brother Nathan. He's one groovy dude.
(14) Are you passive or aggressive?
Very passive.
(15) What is your dream job?
I really want to be a writer, but I've got to get my groove back...
(16) What is your worst habit?
Probably my anxiety. I guess that's not really a habit, but it certainly causes me a lot of problems.
(17) What is your greatest asset?
I've always said it was my writing ability, but that seems to have been rather lacking lately, particularly my ability to come up with stories.
(18) Would you rather :(a)WALK (b)DRIVE (c)FLY?
Walk. I've got a definite Luddite strain in me. I think I've got a built-in disdain for cars; maybe that's why I always get carsick. I'm 23 and I don't drive and I don't want to. Airplanes make me nervous...
(19) If you went camping, you would sleep:(a)IN A TENT
(b)UNDER THE STARS (c)IN A HOTEL?
Who camps in a hotel??? I guess I'd have to say in a tent, because I always do, but under the stars would be cool.
(20) If you could have one superpower, what would it be and why?
I want to be able to fly!!!
(21) Favorite cartoon character?
Winnie-the-Pooh. I'm such a big Pooh fan and I've got a huge collection. I think he is fairly akin to hobbits, and the Hundred-Acre Wood is like the Shire. I want to live there.
(22) Party: ALL NIGHT LONG OR WHAT'S THAT??
What's that??? I am definitely not a party animal.
(23) How many reviews have you written?
This makes 536 reviews. I keep wanting to do one per day or something like that, but I can never keep it up...
(24) How many members trust you?
103 now. Yay!!!
(25) Who was the first member to trust you?
It's too long ago for me to remember, and the "date added" doesn't go back that far.
(26) Who was the first member you trusted?
Ditto to number 25.
(27) Favorite category to write in?
Sometimes music, sometimes movies.
(28) What is the best review you have written?
Hm. I've written an awful lot of reviews. Well, the longest was of the Simon and Garfunkel concert. I don't know if it's my best, but it's probably one of them.
(29) What is the worst review you have written?
One of my early reviews. I wrote a ton of reviews when I first joined, but a lot of them were really short and shoddy.
(30) If you could be one member, who would it be and why?
I can't pick just one!
(31) If you could change one thing about WOT??
Maybe something to indicate when a member takes me off their trust list. Sometimes somebody stops trusting me and it takes me a long time to figure out who it is.
(32) If you could change one thing about Rating?
I wish I didn't have to give numerical ratings in my reviews. I'm not much good at that.
(33) If you could change one thing about Writing?
I can't ever seem to come up with anything anymore. Sometimes I think, aside from reviews, I've lost my ability to write, and that's a really depressing thought.
(34) If you could change your member name, what would you change it to and why??
I like my name, but if I changed it the new name would probably have something to do with Simon and Garfunkel. Maybe BridgeOverTroubledWater or something. Or SilverGirl... I like the idea of Art Garfunkel sailing behind me!
*****DRUM ROLL*****
I know this one is going to be hard for most of you, but we are all grown here, answer honestly...and just ONE!!
(35) Who is your mentor here at Epinions?
I've been a member here for four years, and there have been so many. I'm sorry, I just can't do it!!
Monday, June 21, 2004
Leavin' On a Jet Plane, Don't Know When He'll Be Back Again
I am drawn to movies for a variety of reasons. One of them, which does
not happen terribly often and is perhaps a silly excuse to see a movie,
is that the preview contains a song that I like very much. It was the
playing of Simon and Garfunkel’s America in the trailer that first attracted me to Almost Famous, and it was the melodic strains of a lovely cover of John Denver’s Leavin’ on a Jet Plane that grabbed my attention when I first saw a trailer for The Terminal.
I cannot claim, however, that my interest stemmed from the song alone. I
am generally a big fan of both Steven Spielberg and Tom Hanks. Throw
John Williams into the mix, and that’s one heck of a winning
combination. I added it to my list of films I wanted to see.
I suspected that I probably wouldn’t catch The Terminal while it was still in the theater, but Mom proposed a trip to Tinseltown as a capper to Father’s Day, with this as the movie of choice. I’ve heard and read a number of negative reviews of this movie, though my favorite critic, Good Morning America’s Joel Siegel, loved it. As is generally the case, I agree with him. This will probably not go down as one of the major films in either Hanks’ or Spielberg’s career, but it is a perfectly enjoyable movie nonetheless.
Hanks turns in one of his most endearing performances yet as Viktor Navorsky, the gentle traveler from the fictional Krakozhia who becomes stuck in limbo at the airport when a coup breaks out in his homeland and his visa is declared invalid. He comes across as a very simple man, partly because his command of the English language, even at its best, is shaky, but also because of the naive decency he constantly displays. It’s not that this character lacks intelligence, but rather that he boasts a certain spark that can’t help but touch many of the airport denizens with whom he comes into regular contact. In addition to his overabundance of common courtesy, his skills as a builder and artisan are considerable and help him to pass his days in the airport in a useful manner.
Though Hanks is the film’s focal point and his performance is a brilliant mixture of befuddlement, devotion, charity and charm, the supporting cast members all enhance the film with their unique characterizations. Stanley Tucci brings an interminable twerpiness to the role of Frank Dixon, the airport administrator who antagonizes Viktor after the latter refuses to enter the United States through illegal or dishonest means. He’s an annoying fellow who generally lacks both common sense and compassion, yet Tucci brings a comedic touch to the role that prevents us from disliking him too much.
Catherine Zeta-Jones plays Amelia Warren, a stewardess with a knack for landing in bad relationships. Viktor is smitten with her on their first meeting, while she gradually comes to realize that he is unlike the men she has unsuccessfully romanced in the past. Although they have several sweet scenes together, the female cast member I most enjoyed was Zoe Saldana as Delores Torres, the icy security clerk softened by Viktor’s visits to her as romantic liason for his lovestruck friend, food service worker Enrique Cruz (Diego Luna). When she finally melts entirely, she is luminous.
Along with Enrique, Viktor bonds with Joe Mulroy (Chi McBride), a gentle baggage handler, and Gupta (Kumar Pallana), a crusty old janitor who gets his jollies from watching people slip on his freshly mopped floors. These three help Viktor navigate his way through life in the airport, providing equal helping of heart and humor along the way. Also very enjoyable is Barry Shabaka Henley as Ray Thurman, Dixon’s personal assistant. He is the first major character we meet after Viktor, and his quiet, sometimes statuesque manner stand in contrast to Dixon’s manic panic. Although his interactions with Viktor are limited, Thurman subtly demonstrates to the audience Ray’s growing respect and affection for the unintended guest. Aside from Hanks, he probably gave my favorite performance in the film.
Although this is a drama, at no point could I take the movie as seriously as, say, The Green Mile or Forrest Gump. There is a fairy tale air about it. We never have a sense of Viktor being in any real danger or discomfort. He’s such an easy-going guy, it seems as though he would be content in any circumstance, and if you’re going to be stuck somewhere for weeks on end, an airport isn’t such a bad place to be stuck in. Moreover, Viktor’s ability to re-align rows of chairs to his liking, support and repaint an entire wall and construct an intricate work of art on airport property without being stopped seems highly suspect. But it didn’t bother me. Balancing out the more unnatural aspects of the film are brand-name establishments, which reeks of product placement to some but which made it easier for me to accept this as a functioning current-day airport.
I found The Terminal to be funny and heart-warming. I enjoyed hearing Hanks take on an accent other than some sort of Southern dialect, and the character he produced stands among my favorites of his. Although the film is rated PG-13, there is little within its two-hour span to merit that rating. The profanity in the film is unusually sparse, there are only a few passing references that would make a prude squirm and the most violence we see is some silent video footage of a war-torn Krakozhia. With a cast of fine actors and an engaging story, The Terminal is a feel-good, family-friendly movie that I would readily recommend.
I suspected that I probably wouldn’t catch The Terminal while it was still in the theater, but Mom proposed a trip to Tinseltown as a capper to Father’s Day, with this as the movie of choice. I’ve heard and read a number of negative reviews of this movie, though my favorite critic, Good Morning America’s Joel Siegel, loved it. As is generally the case, I agree with him. This will probably not go down as one of the major films in either Hanks’ or Spielberg’s career, but it is a perfectly enjoyable movie nonetheless.
Hanks turns in one of his most endearing performances yet as Viktor Navorsky, the gentle traveler from the fictional Krakozhia who becomes stuck in limbo at the airport when a coup breaks out in his homeland and his visa is declared invalid. He comes across as a very simple man, partly because his command of the English language, even at its best, is shaky, but also because of the naive decency he constantly displays. It’s not that this character lacks intelligence, but rather that he boasts a certain spark that can’t help but touch many of the airport denizens with whom he comes into regular contact. In addition to his overabundance of common courtesy, his skills as a builder and artisan are considerable and help him to pass his days in the airport in a useful manner.
Though Hanks is the film’s focal point and his performance is a brilliant mixture of befuddlement, devotion, charity and charm, the supporting cast members all enhance the film with their unique characterizations. Stanley Tucci brings an interminable twerpiness to the role of Frank Dixon, the airport administrator who antagonizes Viktor after the latter refuses to enter the United States through illegal or dishonest means. He’s an annoying fellow who generally lacks both common sense and compassion, yet Tucci brings a comedic touch to the role that prevents us from disliking him too much.
Catherine Zeta-Jones plays Amelia Warren, a stewardess with a knack for landing in bad relationships. Viktor is smitten with her on their first meeting, while she gradually comes to realize that he is unlike the men she has unsuccessfully romanced in the past. Although they have several sweet scenes together, the female cast member I most enjoyed was Zoe Saldana as Delores Torres, the icy security clerk softened by Viktor’s visits to her as romantic liason for his lovestruck friend, food service worker Enrique Cruz (Diego Luna). When she finally melts entirely, she is luminous.
Along with Enrique, Viktor bonds with Joe Mulroy (Chi McBride), a gentle baggage handler, and Gupta (Kumar Pallana), a crusty old janitor who gets his jollies from watching people slip on his freshly mopped floors. These three help Viktor navigate his way through life in the airport, providing equal helping of heart and humor along the way. Also very enjoyable is Barry Shabaka Henley as Ray Thurman, Dixon’s personal assistant. He is the first major character we meet after Viktor, and his quiet, sometimes statuesque manner stand in contrast to Dixon’s manic panic. Although his interactions with Viktor are limited, Thurman subtly demonstrates to the audience Ray’s growing respect and affection for the unintended guest. Aside from Hanks, he probably gave my favorite performance in the film.
Although this is a drama, at no point could I take the movie as seriously as, say, The Green Mile or Forrest Gump. There is a fairy tale air about it. We never have a sense of Viktor being in any real danger or discomfort. He’s such an easy-going guy, it seems as though he would be content in any circumstance, and if you’re going to be stuck somewhere for weeks on end, an airport isn’t such a bad place to be stuck in. Moreover, Viktor’s ability to re-align rows of chairs to his liking, support and repaint an entire wall and construct an intricate work of art on airport property without being stopped seems highly suspect. But it didn’t bother me. Balancing out the more unnatural aspects of the film are brand-name establishments, which reeks of product placement to some but which made it easier for me to accept this as a functioning current-day airport.
I found The Terminal to be funny and heart-warming. I enjoyed hearing Hanks take on an accent other than some sort of Southern dialect, and the character he produced stands among my favorites of his. Although the film is rated PG-13, there is little within its two-hour span to merit that rating. The profanity in the film is unusually sparse, there are only a few passing references that would make a prude squirm and the most violence we see is some silent video footage of a war-torn Krakozhia. With a cast of fine actors and an engaging story, The Terminal is a feel-good, family-friendly movie that I would readily recommend.
Thursday, June 17, 2004
My Little Zoo a Grand Old Time
For the past couple years, one of the most anticipated events in Erie,
PA – my hometown – was the opening of the new Children’s Zoo at the Erie
Zoo. That section of the zoo had always been a favorite and had
undergone major renovations before. When I was little, one of the focal
points was Rock Candy Mountain, a mountain featuring colorful
outcroppings designed to look like gumdrops. I was always a little
mountain goat, going out of my way at playgrounds and during
creek-walking trips to find the most complicated and dangerous way to
climb up a structure or a cliff face, so I loved scrambling up the
narrow staircase to the top, where I could overlook the rest of the
Children’s Zoo from my high vantage point. But the Mountain did not
exactly afford the safest climbing experience, and it was shut down as a
hazard when I was still pretty young.
The zoo has undergone many changes since then, some of which I got to experience directly during my one-year stint as a zookeeper in the Children’s Zoo. While we went about the daily work of cleaning pens, feeding animals, brushing llamas and giving talks in the pavilion, we heard about the progress of the Kiboka Outpost, the extravagant African exhibit that was being added to the other end of the zoo. Extravagant is, of course, a relative term; a trip to the zoo in Columbus, Cincinnati, or Washington, D.C. would render anything in our zoo rather puny by comparison. That’s typical of my city, however. Our amusement park, our zoo, our much-hyped Bicentennial Tower that is dwarfed by almost every building surrounding it… We don’t do big in Erie. But we can do cozy.
As small as the Erie Zoo is, it continues expanding, both outwards and simply in terms of the quality of its exhibits. When it first opened in the 1920s, it consisted of a series of small concrete enclosures. It stayed that way for decades, and my mom recalls going to the zoo as a rather depressing experience because all the animals seemed so miserable. Conditions were so deplorable that the Erie Daily Times ran a series of articles in complaint, inspiring the community to take action. The past four decades have seen the zoo redesign all the animal enclosures for a more spacious and natural habitat and place a greater emphasis on the educational opportunities the zoo could provide to visitors. In addition to interactive displays and informative plaques near each exhibit, the zoo offers many classes and day camps, several of which I took advantage of when I was younger.
Getting into the zoo is pretty reasonable: $6 for adults, $5 for seniors and $3 for children. Those prices are slightly lower during the off-season. If you live in town and plan to visit the zoo often, it’s worth it to get a zoo pass for $50-$60, depending on how many people will be using it. This pass also provides a discount at a hundred other zoos and aquariums throughout the country. The first thing you’ll see upon entering the zoo is the gift shop, complete with a wide variety of animal-related items at a reasonable price. My favorites are the plastic animals, which come in a range of sizes. I have a collection featuring every big cat available in the smallest size. As I recall they cost about $4 each. For a really cheap souvenir, you can stop just outside the gift shop and get a pressed penny. They’ve added several penny machines throughout the zoo; I haven’t even managed to collect all the different designs that have become available. Each features a different animal that lives in the zoo.
Right next to the gift shop is the train station, which usually ends up being the last stop of the day. Tickets will set you back $1 if you’re a zoo member, $2 if you aren’t. You can also indulge in a snack or two from the concession stand one window over. Your first stop will probably be the main zoo building, which is where the elephant used to be housed. Though Kya was one of the zoo’s most beloved residents, he went to another zoo when it was determined that living alone was not good for him. He had lived with his mother Shawnie for several years, but the elder elephant died several years ago. The other stars of the building are the gorillas, particularly Rudy, a grumpy-looking silver back who is the oldest male of his species in captivity. When I was little, I remember watching him watch TV. He no longer has a television in his display, though he may still have one somewhere we can’t see it. He seems to enjoy sitting up against the glass and glaring at the children who pass by while idly picking his nose, much to the children’s delight. Other residents include two different types of lemurs, both of which are equally capable of making a racket, a large display of meerkats, the entertaining little critters who became famous with the inclusion of Timon in The Lion King, and a fenced-in pool that’s home to several types of birds as well as turtles. When I worked at the zoo, one or two of the birds was often wandering around outside the fence when I came in. Another feature is the leopard exhibit, which has included cubs more often than not over the past few years.
Once you leave the main building, you can stop and take a peek in the barn. It’s not very full at the moment, inhabited only by a horse and her foal, a donkey, a miniature horse, a pig, a llama, and an exhibit full of bats. The animals in the barn get switched around rather frequently, though you can always count on a horse being there. When I was little, the bat exhibit was occupied by marmosets, adorable little primates that would fit in the palm of your hand. During high school, it was the on-again, off-again home of Zorro, the miniature zebu that I sponsored for several years.
Just up from the barn is the greenhouse, which is interesting if you like plants but pretty unpleasant during the middle of summer. To the left are the spectacle bears, so named because of the white patches on their face, but I prefer to think it’s because they like to make a spectacle of themselves. They seem to understand that they are being watched and often put on quite a show. The polar bears are also popular, though usually much more sedentary. If you’re very lucky, you might catch them swimming in their pool, in which case it is probably so hot out that you’ll be jealous of them. The zoo is currently in the process of trying to gather funding for a refurbished polar bear exhibit. Next to the bears are the lions, which rarely do anything other than sleep during zoo hours, especially in the summer. Same goes for the tigers, one white and one orange, which share an enclosure and can usually be seen sprawled out on a flower bed or in the shade of a cave.
Kiboka features two warthogs, which were initially brought in temporarily but have since become permanent fixtures. The outpost itself boasts a number of educational displays and a colorful safari guide, Dr. Max Zeller, a pseudonym for a college biology professor by the name of Dr. Masteller with a particular passion for insects and arachnids. Other animals include a pair of rhinos, a cheetah that can be observed from within the outpost or on the second floor observatory overlooking its enclosure, and a herd of zebras, as well as a variety of smaller animals.
When I was younger, the zebras were still up in this part of the zoo, as well as the bison (who now seem to be absent aside from one roaming free in Safariland, through which the train runs). It wasn’t much of a trip from the tigers to the bison, but once we reached the zebras we had a treacherously steep descent to the giraffe house. I can’t imagine this was up to ADA code; just walking down the path seemed dangerous. This pathway has since been replaced with a boardwalk, which is much more easily traversable. At the bottom of the hill are the giraffes, which are usually outside during the summer. It’s not unusual to see them sticking out their long black tongues to nab a tasty leaf or two. Their plot of land is surrounded on two sides by a large pond, which is home to several swans and a constantly variable number of ducks. I’ve never seen the swans leave the water, but the ducks venture out all the time to beg French fries off the patrons of the main concession stand across the way. I don’t believe any of these ducks are actual zoo animals. Mill Creek runs through the middle of the zoo, just under the bridge connecting this section to the Children’s Zoo, and I suspect that is where the ducks come from. Nonetheless, they are a constant presence in the pond, almost always outnumbering the swans. In the middle of the pond is Monkey Island, home to the zoo’s spider monkeys, which are conveniently afraid of water.
The Children’s Zoo is considerably different than it was when I worked there. The carousel is now nestled in an indoor pavilion just outside the entrance, and rides are $2 a person. Inside the Children’s Zoo is a configuration of buildings connected by cobblestone walkways. The old staple of the petting zoo is still in place, though it’s smaller than it used to be and seems to have fewer animals. Miniature zebus, donkeys and llamas fill other pens, and some of the smaller animals that used to live in the Children’s Zoo barn now have a place in the educationally oriented Adventure Center. Entirely new exhibits include Mystery Mountain, a safer reincarnation of Rock Candy Mountain. The top is an observation deck, while the path underneath is a great way to cool off on a hot day. The old children’s play area has been replaced with a new one resembling a Chuck E. Cheese crawl but utilizing an animal motif. The most anticipated addition is a penguin exhibit, which can be viewed at eye level or underwater. The large pool takes up much of the exhibit, and the penguins seem to have a great time zooming through the water. The other exciting new exhibits are the aviary, where visitors can feed nectar to a colorful variety of Australian lorikeets, and the Australian Walkabout, where visitors are encouraged to take a stroll with a kangaroo.
On your way up from the Children’s Zoo, be sure to pay a visit to the otters. Their underwater antics are as entertaining as the penguins’. Next up is Wild Asia, the section of the zoo that was built after Kiboka and before the new Children’s Zoo. The entrance is an ornate archway decorated in an Asian motif. The majority of Wild Asia is inside and includes such animals as red pandas, Indian muntjacs (small, primitive members of the deer family) and the wildly popular pair of orangutans with their still-tiny one-year-old, Leela.
The changes to the zoo are impressive and exciting, though they do leave me wondering about a number of animals that seem to have disappeared. I wonder whether they are still on zoo grounds somewhere out of the visitors’ viewing area and whether they will ever be put back on display. In addition to the bison, the flamingoes have gone missing, as well as a large number of animals in the Children’s Zoo, unless I missed them. I didn’t see the Sika deer, pygmy goats, capybaras, porcupines, arctic foxes, white ducks, tortoise, or most of the animals that were in the barn. I know that animals come and go over time; I haven’t seen Zorro in years, and the raccoons that once were exhibited across from the duck pond have been gone almost as long as Rock Candy Mountain. But it’s a bit of a shock to see so many animals depart at once, even if it means that new animals have the opportunity to come in.
All in all, the Erie Zoo is a wonderful place to take the family for the afternoon in spite of its small size. It’s easy to view each exhibit; you’ll never have to leave feeling as thought you didn’t get to see everything. In fact, it rarely takes more than a couple hours to get through the zoo. If you want to make even more of a day of it, pack a picnic in the car and head next door afterwards for a leisurely lunch in the picnic grove and some splashing around the creek. The Erie Zoo has always been one of my favorite places to visit, and I would recommend it to anyone whose idea of a good time involves fur, fins or feathers.
The zoo has undergone many changes since then, some of which I got to experience directly during my one-year stint as a zookeeper in the Children’s Zoo. While we went about the daily work of cleaning pens, feeding animals, brushing llamas and giving talks in the pavilion, we heard about the progress of the Kiboka Outpost, the extravagant African exhibit that was being added to the other end of the zoo. Extravagant is, of course, a relative term; a trip to the zoo in Columbus, Cincinnati, or Washington, D.C. would render anything in our zoo rather puny by comparison. That’s typical of my city, however. Our amusement park, our zoo, our much-hyped Bicentennial Tower that is dwarfed by almost every building surrounding it… We don’t do big in Erie. But we can do cozy.
As small as the Erie Zoo is, it continues expanding, both outwards and simply in terms of the quality of its exhibits. When it first opened in the 1920s, it consisted of a series of small concrete enclosures. It stayed that way for decades, and my mom recalls going to the zoo as a rather depressing experience because all the animals seemed so miserable. Conditions were so deplorable that the Erie Daily Times ran a series of articles in complaint, inspiring the community to take action. The past four decades have seen the zoo redesign all the animal enclosures for a more spacious and natural habitat and place a greater emphasis on the educational opportunities the zoo could provide to visitors. In addition to interactive displays and informative plaques near each exhibit, the zoo offers many classes and day camps, several of which I took advantage of when I was younger.
Getting into the zoo is pretty reasonable: $6 for adults, $5 for seniors and $3 for children. Those prices are slightly lower during the off-season. If you live in town and plan to visit the zoo often, it’s worth it to get a zoo pass for $50-$60, depending on how many people will be using it. This pass also provides a discount at a hundred other zoos and aquariums throughout the country. The first thing you’ll see upon entering the zoo is the gift shop, complete with a wide variety of animal-related items at a reasonable price. My favorites are the plastic animals, which come in a range of sizes. I have a collection featuring every big cat available in the smallest size. As I recall they cost about $4 each. For a really cheap souvenir, you can stop just outside the gift shop and get a pressed penny. They’ve added several penny machines throughout the zoo; I haven’t even managed to collect all the different designs that have become available. Each features a different animal that lives in the zoo.
Right next to the gift shop is the train station, which usually ends up being the last stop of the day. Tickets will set you back $1 if you’re a zoo member, $2 if you aren’t. You can also indulge in a snack or two from the concession stand one window over. Your first stop will probably be the main zoo building, which is where the elephant used to be housed. Though Kya was one of the zoo’s most beloved residents, he went to another zoo when it was determined that living alone was not good for him. He had lived with his mother Shawnie for several years, but the elder elephant died several years ago. The other stars of the building are the gorillas, particularly Rudy, a grumpy-looking silver back who is the oldest male of his species in captivity. When I was little, I remember watching him watch TV. He no longer has a television in his display, though he may still have one somewhere we can’t see it. He seems to enjoy sitting up against the glass and glaring at the children who pass by while idly picking his nose, much to the children’s delight. Other residents include two different types of lemurs, both of which are equally capable of making a racket, a large display of meerkats, the entertaining little critters who became famous with the inclusion of Timon in The Lion King, and a fenced-in pool that’s home to several types of birds as well as turtles. When I worked at the zoo, one or two of the birds was often wandering around outside the fence when I came in. Another feature is the leopard exhibit, which has included cubs more often than not over the past few years.
Once you leave the main building, you can stop and take a peek in the barn. It’s not very full at the moment, inhabited only by a horse and her foal, a donkey, a miniature horse, a pig, a llama, and an exhibit full of bats. The animals in the barn get switched around rather frequently, though you can always count on a horse being there. When I was little, the bat exhibit was occupied by marmosets, adorable little primates that would fit in the palm of your hand. During high school, it was the on-again, off-again home of Zorro, the miniature zebu that I sponsored for several years.
Just up from the barn is the greenhouse, which is interesting if you like plants but pretty unpleasant during the middle of summer. To the left are the spectacle bears, so named because of the white patches on their face, but I prefer to think it’s because they like to make a spectacle of themselves. They seem to understand that they are being watched and often put on quite a show. The polar bears are also popular, though usually much more sedentary. If you’re very lucky, you might catch them swimming in their pool, in which case it is probably so hot out that you’ll be jealous of them. The zoo is currently in the process of trying to gather funding for a refurbished polar bear exhibit. Next to the bears are the lions, which rarely do anything other than sleep during zoo hours, especially in the summer. Same goes for the tigers, one white and one orange, which share an enclosure and can usually be seen sprawled out on a flower bed or in the shade of a cave.
Kiboka features two warthogs, which were initially brought in temporarily but have since become permanent fixtures. The outpost itself boasts a number of educational displays and a colorful safari guide, Dr. Max Zeller, a pseudonym for a college biology professor by the name of Dr. Masteller with a particular passion for insects and arachnids. Other animals include a pair of rhinos, a cheetah that can be observed from within the outpost or on the second floor observatory overlooking its enclosure, and a herd of zebras, as well as a variety of smaller animals.
When I was younger, the zebras were still up in this part of the zoo, as well as the bison (who now seem to be absent aside from one roaming free in Safariland, through which the train runs). It wasn’t much of a trip from the tigers to the bison, but once we reached the zebras we had a treacherously steep descent to the giraffe house. I can’t imagine this was up to ADA code; just walking down the path seemed dangerous. This pathway has since been replaced with a boardwalk, which is much more easily traversable. At the bottom of the hill are the giraffes, which are usually outside during the summer. It’s not unusual to see them sticking out their long black tongues to nab a tasty leaf or two. Their plot of land is surrounded on two sides by a large pond, which is home to several swans and a constantly variable number of ducks. I’ve never seen the swans leave the water, but the ducks venture out all the time to beg French fries off the patrons of the main concession stand across the way. I don’t believe any of these ducks are actual zoo animals. Mill Creek runs through the middle of the zoo, just under the bridge connecting this section to the Children’s Zoo, and I suspect that is where the ducks come from. Nonetheless, they are a constant presence in the pond, almost always outnumbering the swans. In the middle of the pond is Monkey Island, home to the zoo’s spider monkeys, which are conveniently afraid of water.
The Children’s Zoo is considerably different than it was when I worked there. The carousel is now nestled in an indoor pavilion just outside the entrance, and rides are $2 a person. Inside the Children’s Zoo is a configuration of buildings connected by cobblestone walkways. The old staple of the petting zoo is still in place, though it’s smaller than it used to be and seems to have fewer animals. Miniature zebus, donkeys and llamas fill other pens, and some of the smaller animals that used to live in the Children’s Zoo barn now have a place in the educationally oriented Adventure Center. Entirely new exhibits include Mystery Mountain, a safer reincarnation of Rock Candy Mountain. The top is an observation deck, while the path underneath is a great way to cool off on a hot day. The old children’s play area has been replaced with a new one resembling a Chuck E. Cheese crawl but utilizing an animal motif. The most anticipated addition is a penguin exhibit, which can be viewed at eye level or underwater. The large pool takes up much of the exhibit, and the penguins seem to have a great time zooming through the water. The other exciting new exhibits are the aviary, where visitors can feed nectar to a colorful variety of Australian lorikeets, and the Australian Walkabout, where visitors are encouraged to take a stroll with a kangaroo.
On your way up from the Children’s Zoo, be sure to pay a visit to the otters. Their underwater antics are as entertaining as the penguins’. Next up is Wild Asia, the section of the zoo that was built after Kiboka and before the new Children’s Zoo. The entrance is an ornate archway decorated in an Asian motif. The majority of Wild Asia is inside and includes such animals as red pandas, Indian muntjacs (small, primitive members of the deer family) and the wildly popular pair of orangutans with their still-tiny one-year-old, Leela.
The changes to the zoo are impressive and exciting, though they do leave me wondering about a number of animals that seem to have disappeared. I wonder whether they are still on zoo grounds somewhere out of the visitors’ viewing area and whether they will ever be put back on display. In addition to the bison, the flamingoes have gone missing, as well as a large number of animals in the Children’s Zoo, unless I missed them. I didn’t see the Sika deer, pygmy goats, capybaras, porcupines, arctic foxes, white ducks, tortoise, or most of the animals that were in the barn. I know that animals come and go over time; I haven’t seen Zorro in years, and the raccoons that once were exhibited across from the duck pond have been gone almost as long as Rock Candy Mountain. But it’s a bit of a shock to see so many animals depart at once, even if it means that new animals have the opportunity to come in.
All in all, the Erie Zoo is a wonderful place to take the family for the afternoon in spite of its small size. It’s easy to view each exhibit; you’ll never have to leave feeling as thought you didn’t get to see everything. In fact, it rarely takes more than a couple hours to get through the zoo. If you want to make even more of a day of it, pack a picnic in the car and head next door afterwards for a leisurely lunch in the picnic grove and some splashing around the creek. The Erie Zoo has always been one of my favorite places to visit, and I would recommend it to anyone whose idea of a good time involves fur, fins or feathers.
Wednesday, June 16, 2004
Poetry and Pet Lovers Will Love This Book
A couple weeks ago, I was taking a break in the back room of the
bookstore where I work and I noticed a small book sitting atop a pile of
books behind me. Always a sucker for a good dog story, I saw the title Love That Dog
and thought I’d take a look. I read the back and then proceeded to open
the book to the first page. By the end of the break I was several pages
in and determined to finish the roughly 90-page book off during my
half-hour lunch break. My lunch was good, but the reading was even more
nourishing.
Although Sharon Creech’s Love That Dog is subtitled “a novel,” the print is unusually large and the writing on each page is quite sparse. It is, in fact, a type of epistolary novel, filled with entries in the classroom poetry journal of a boy named Jack. After he writes his reactions to the day’s lesson, first reluctantly but with growing enthusiasm, his teacher arranges his prose so that it looks like poetry.
The book reminded me a bit of Beverly Cleary’s Dear Mr. Henshaw. Like Mr. Henshaw, Jack’s teacher gives advice and instruction to which we only see the response. Furthermore, like Leigh, the protagonist in Dear Mr. Henshaw, Jack is inspired by the work of a particular author and proceeds to write to him. In this case, the author is Walter Dean Myers.
Throughout the book, several well-known poems are mentioned. I was amused by the reference to the William Carlos Williams poem The Red Wheelbarrow, which my class studied during my sophomore year of high school. The poem reads in its entirety: “so much depends / upon / a red wheel / barrow / glazed with rain / water / beside the white / chickens.” Jack’s reaction to the poem was similar to my own. Why does so much depend on the wheelbarrow? And what makes this one descriptive sentence a poem?
It also brought to mind the Guy Noir sketch on Prairie Home Companion in which poet laureate Billy Collins assists Guy Noir in apprehending the distributor of numerous shoddy imitations of several Williams poems, most prominently This is Just to Say. For instance: “This is just to say / I have buried your cat / which you left with me for the weekend / and which you were expecting to pick up on Monday. / Forgive me. / She was dead. / So stiff / and starting to smell funky.” Jack’s imitation of The Red Wheelbarrow is the first of many in this book, leading up to his revelation of the poem written in mimicry of Myers’ Love That Boy.
I recognized most of the poems in Love That Dog, and those familiar allusions added to my enjoyment of a book which is simultaneously a very quick read and a very moving story. This is a book about poetry and its power to help those who write it to work through even the most painful of circumstances. Along with that, it’s the simple tale of a boy and the dog that he adores, making this a winner for the literarily minded and animal lovers alike.
Although Sharon Creech’s Love That Dog is subtitled “a novel,” the print is unusually large and the writing on each page is quite sparse. It is, in fact, a type of epistolary novel, filled with entries in the classroom poetry journal of a boy named Jack. After he writes his reactions to the day’s lesson, first reluctantly but with growing enthusiasm, his teacher arranges his prose so that it looks like poetry.
The book reminded me a bit of Beverly Cleary’s Dear Mr. Henshaw. Like Mr. Henshaw, Jack’s teacher gives advice and instruction to which we only see the response. Furthermore, like Leigh, the protagonist in Dear Mr. Henshaw, Jack is inspired by the work of a particular author and proceeds to write to him. In this case, the author is Walter Dean Myers.
Throughout the book, several well-known poems are mentioned. I was amused by the reference to the William Carlos Williams poem The Red Wheelbarrow, which my class studied during my sophomore year of high school. The poem reads in its entirety: “so much depends / upon / a red wheel / barrow / glazed with rain / water / beside the white / chickens.” Jack’s reaction to the poem was similar to my own. Why does so much depend on the wheelbarrow? And what makes this one descriptive sentence a poem?
It also brought to mind the Guy Noir sketch on Prairie Home Companion in which poet laureate Billy Collins assists Guy Noir in apprehending the distributor of numerous shoddy imitations of several Williams poems, most prominently This is Just to Say. For instance: “This is just to say / I have buried your cat / which you left with me for the weekend / and which you were expecting to pick up on Monday. / Forgive me. / She was dead. / So stiff / and starting to smell funky.” Jack’s imitation of The Red Wheelbarrow is the first of many in this book, leading up to his revelation of the poem written in mimicry of Myers’ Love That Boy.
I recognized most of the poems in Love That Dog, and those familiar allusions added to my enjoyment of a book which is simultaneously a very quick read and a very moving story. This is a book about poetry and its power to help those who write it to work through even the most painful of circumstances. Along with that, it’s the simple tale of a boy and the dog that he adores, making this a winner for the literarily minded and animal lovers alike.
Monday, June 14, 2004
A Picture is Worth a Thousand Words
When I was in elementary school, I made no secret of my passion for
Middle-earth and its inhabitants. In first grade, I begged to stay in
from recess so I could sit at my desk and draw portraits of Bilbo
Baggins. (These tended to look suspiciously like Mercer Mayer’s Little
Critter; apparently hairy feet were not enough for me.) In third grade, I
cheered when our reading textbook included Sam’s poem about oliphaunts.
In fifth grade, I dressed up as Bilbo, complete with pipe and padded
stomach, for the class’s wax museum. That same year I wrote a three-page
poem about The Lord of the Rings and brought it in to school to show my teacher.
Both of these fifth-grade incidents caught the attention of the middle school English teacher, Mrs. Lucht, an avid Tolkien fan herself. Sixth grade proved to be an especially productive year for me. Mrs. Lucht let me direct the class in a play I had written, and that resulted in my getting written up as a “Can-Do Kid” in the newspaper. At the annual awards assembly on the last day of school, Mrs. Lucht presented me with a special gift: A Hobbit’s Journal, a sturdy paperback tome filled with Middle-earth illustrations and plenty of room for writing.
As is my unfortunate custom with journals, especially one this nice, I kept it secret and safe as the Ring without marking more than half a dozen pages. But when a pile of them showed up in the bargain bin at the bookstore where I work, I couldn’t resist picking up a couple more. I may give one to another Hobbit-loving friend, but the other I’ll keep for myself. Maybe one day I’ll fill them both.
Though this journal originally sold for $5.95, I only paid two dollars this time around. It’s a bargain even at the original price. Each page is heavy and resembles an old piece of parchment. There are no lines to write on, making things a bit tricky if your writing tends to slant as mine does, but the unlined pages allow for more creativity. When my boss at work looked at one of the journals, she said her daughter would enjoy trying to copy the drawings on each page. A Hobbit’s Journal is equally accommodating to writing and drawing, and if you’re inclined to give Middle-earth script a try, this is the ideal space in which to practice.
The book’s cover features a drably colored illustration of the Fellowship making its way from Rivendell. It’s a lovely drawing with a different feel to it than the rest of the drawings in the book, which are all very detailed sepia-tone line drawings. All have a very soft sense about them, as though they might dissipate altogether if you leave them for a moment. Accompanying the drawings are labels written in exquisite letters that could have been penned by a hobbit’s hand. They heighten the aesthetic quality of an already gorgeous book.
The book begins with a brief history fabricated by the illustrator, Michael Green, explaining that Samwise, after setting about the task of completing Frodo’s account of their quest, had decided that drawing his companions and their adventures might finish the story more effectively than words. Finding himself lacking in the required talents, he sought an artist to whom he could dictate the story, and Green traveled to Hobbiton to offer his services, leaving Sam so satisfied with the result that he couldn’t bear to sully the pages with his simple words. The introduction does seem a tad self-congratulatory, but I suppose that can be forgiven. After all, I’ve barely been able to bring myself to do any writing in the journal myself.
Most of the characters in Lord of the Rings have a place here; I wish more of the locales did as well. This is a very talented artist, and I would have enjoyed seeing his interpretations of such Middle-earth stops as Hobbiton, Rivendell, and the Grey Havens. The characters are beautifully rendered, though there are choices I find a bit perplexing. The elderly Sam is made to look like Santa Claus, and Elrond looks too much like a human monarch. The position of his hair does not allow his ears to be seen, and, like Sam, he has a significant amount of facial hair, which is inappropriate for both hobbits and elves. Meanwhile, a picture of Arwen portrays her idly offering a flower to a unicorn. Now, I love unicorns, but I can’t recall that Tolkien ever mentioned them as having a place in Middle-earth. Somehow, I can’t imagine them there, so I found this illustration jarring.
For the most part, though, the drawings are very pleasing. I particularly like the Hobbits and Gandalf, whose personalities come across very effectively. I’m also very fond of the final page, which features a quietly smoldering mountain surrounded by vegetation and approached by several birds in flight. The page is topped with the words “In the end, the shadow is but a passing thing,” a quote from the moment towards the end of the novel when the sight of Middle-earth’s most sacred star instills in Sam a powerful sense of hope.
For Lord of the Rings fans, this little book is a treasure not to be missed. Whether or not you use it for its intended purpose, the drawings make the pages worth perusing time and again. And for the price, you might as well pick up a spare. Who knows when it might come in handy?
Both of these fifth-grade incidents caught the attention of the middle school English teacher, Mrs. Lucht, an avid Tolkien fan herself. Sixth grade proved to be an especially productive year for me. Mrs. Lucht let me direct the class in a play I had written, and that resulted in my getting written up as a “Can-Do Kid” in the newspaper. At the annual awards assembly on the last day of school, Mrs. Lucht presented me with a special gift: A Hobbit’s Journal, a sturdy paperback tome filled with Middle-earth illustrations and plenty of room for writing.
As is my unfortunate custom with journals, especially one this nice, I kept it secret and safe as the Ring without marking more than half a dozen pages. But when a pile of them showed up in the bargain bin at the bookstore where I work, I couldn’t resist picking up a couple more. I may give one to another Hobbit-loving friend, but the other I’ll keep for myself. Maybe one day I’ll fill them both.
Though this journal originally sold for $5.95, I only paid two dollars this time around. It’s a bargain even at the original price. Each page is heavy and resembles an old piece of parchment. There are no lines to write on, making things a bit tricky if your writing tends to slant as mine does, but the unlined pages allow for more creativity. When my boss at work looked at one of the journals, she said her daughter would enjoy trying to copy the drawings on each page. A Hobbit’s Journal is equally accommodating to writing and drawing, and if you’re inclined to give Middle-earth script a try, this is the ideal space in which to practice.
The book’s cover features a drably colored illustration of the Fellowship making its way from Rivendell. It’s a lovely drawing with a different feel to it than the rest of the drawings in the book, which are all very detailed sepia-tone line drawings. All have a very soft sense about them, as though they might dissipate altogether if you leave them for a moment. Accompanying the drawings are labels written in exquisite letters that could have been penned by a hobbit’s hand. They heighten the aesthetic quality of an already gorgeous book.
The book begins with a brief history fabricated by the illustrator, Michael Green, explaining that Samwise, after setting about the task of completing Frodo’s account of their quest, had decided that drawing his companions and their adventures might finish the story more effectively than words. Finding himself lacking in the required talents, he sought an artist to whom he could dictate the story, and Green traveled to Hobbiton to offer his services, leaving Sam so satisfied with the result that he couldn’t bear to sully the pages with his simple words. The introduction does seem a tad self-congratulatory, but I suppose that can be forgiven. After all, I’ve barely been able to bring myself to do any writing in the journal myself.
Most of the characters in Lord of the Rings have a place here; I wish more of the locales did as well. This is a very talented artist, and I would have enjoyed seeing his interpretations of such Middle-earth stops as Hobbiton, Rivendell, and the Grey Havens. The characters are beautifully rendered, though there are choices I find a bit perplexing. The elderly Sam is made to look like Santa Claus, and Elrond looks too much like a human monarch. The position of his hair does not allow his ears to be seen, and, like Sam, he has a significant amount of facial hair, which is inappropriate for both hobbits and elves. Meanwhile, a picture of Arwen portrays her idly offering a flower to a unicorn. Now, I love unicorns, but I can’t recall that Tolkien ever mentioned them as having a place in Middle-earth. Somehow, I can’t imagine them there, so I found this illustration jarring.
For the most part, though, the drawings are very pleasing. I particularly like the Hobbits and Gandalf, whose personalities come across very effectively. I’m also very fond of the final page, which features a quietly smoldering mountain surrounded by vegetation and approached by several birds in flight. The page is topped with the words “In the end, the shadow is but a passing thing,” a quote from the moment towards the end of the novel when the sight of Middle-earth’s most sacred star instills in Sam a powerful sense of hope.
For Lord of the Rings fans, this little book is a treasure not to be missed. Whether or not you use it for its intended purpose, the drawings make the pages worth perusing time and again. And for the price, you might as well pick up a spare. Who knows when it might come in handy?
Saturday, June 5, 2004
Epinions Then and Now Write-Off: Here's to the Next Four Years!
Well, I just happened upon this write-off celebrating Birdfeather's
100th review and, feeling a bit nostalgic, decided to go ahead and crash
the party. Way to go, Birdfeather!
1. How long have you been a member of Epinions?
I have been a member of Epinions since January 5, 2000 - more than four years now!
2. Which member invited you to join or did you stumble upon the site?
I stumbled upon the site looking for a place where I could submit book reviews.
3. Is there anything you miss about Epinions that has changed and/or no longer in force?
Well, I really miss the first month, when I made 10 to 30 cents per hit, and even getting one cent per hit was pretty nice. Plus, some members I like a lot haven't written much lately.
4. Who are your Top 3 Epinion members and why?
I'm seriously no good at favorites. Ask me that about anything and I'll have trouble. There are so many amazing writers and wonderful people here on Epinions, it's really hard to single out anybody. Just to stretch it, here are 4 of my favorites...
ByronSummers - Yeah, aside from one review in January, he hasn't written in two years, but few members have stood out so powerfully to me. I still remember the first time I read one of his reviews. I love the skill, warmth, and passion each review displays, and the personality with which he infuses his writing makes reading it especially enjoyable.
JediKermit - Quinn is a darn funny guy. His razor-sharp wit leaves me laughing out loud time and again, yet in the course of the same review he can move me nearly to tears. I happened upon Quinn pretty early in his Epinions career and watched him gradually pass me by; with almost 200 reviews between us now, I doubt I'll ever catch up. But if that means always having one of his reviews to read, that's OK by me.
IanGrant - His incredibly detailed music reviews are great for a music lover like me, especially since we have such similar taste. I've particularly enjoyed exchanging comments with him about Simon and Garfunkel.
Panguitch - I read dozens of reviews of The Return of the King, many brilliantly written, but I never found one to top Andy's. That distinction placed him firmly in my high esteem, and his other reviews are just as illuminating.
5. What is your favorite thing about Epinions?
I love having a place where I can write post reviews without having to go through anybody, and getting comments on them is especially nice. Every once in a while I'll get an e-mail from somebody because they read one of my reviews, and that's especially cool. I also love reading reviews and encountering lots of terrific people.
6. What are your goals for the next year here at Epinions?
I'd really like to regain my top reviewer hats in movies and music. I lost them when I went to England in 2001 for five weeks and didn't write any reviews while I was gone and haven't managed to get them back since. I'd also like to not have so many stretches of several weeks without reviews. (The two, I imagine, complement one another...)
7. If you could change one thing about Epinions, what would it be?
I want my penny-per-hit back!
8. What do you think of the Epinion dolls? Cute or Uglee??
I guess they're kinda cute.
9. What is your favorite pastime at Epinions...Reading or Writing?
As much as I love reading the many wonderful reviews here, it was the writing that drew me here, and in no small measure it's what keeps me here. No matter how great my writer's block, I can always find something to write a review about, which in turn makes me feel productive. And that's a good thing.
10. What is your favorite Write-Off and who was it hosted by??
I don't do write-offs too often. I don't think I can really pick a favorite. Each one has its merits.
Well, there ya go! I've been hanging around more than four years now, so I won't be going away any time soon. Here's to the next four years!
1. How long have you been a member of Epinions?
I have been a member of Epinions since January 5, 2000 - more than four years now!
2. Which member invited you to join or did you stumble upon the site?
I stumbled upon the site looking for a place where I could submit book reviews.
3. Is there anything you miss about Epinions that has changed and/or no longer in force?
Well, I really miss the first month, when I made 10 to 30 cents per hit, and even getting one cent per hit was pretty nice. Plus, some members I like a lot haven't written much lately.
4. Who are your Top 3 Epinion members and why?
I'm seriously no good at favorites. Ask me that about anything and I'll have trouble. There are so many amazing writers and wonderful people here on Epinions, it's really hard to single out anybody. Just to stretch it, here are 4 of my favorites...
ByronSummers - Yeah, aside from one review in January, he hasn't written in two years, but few members have stood out so powerfully to me. I still remember the first time I read one of his reviews. I love the skill, warmth, and passion each review displays, and the personality with which he infuses his writing makes reading it especially enjoyable.
JediKermit - Quinn is a darn funny guy. His razor-sharp wit leaves me laughing out loud time and again, yet in the course of the same review he can move me nearly to tears. I happened upon Quinn pretty early in his Epinions career and watched him gradually pass me by; with almost 200 reviews between us now, I doubt I'll ever catch up. But if that means always having one of his reviews to read, that's OK by me.
IanGrant - His incredibly detailed music reviews are great for a music lover like me, especially since we have such similar taste. I've particularly enjoyed exchanging comments with him about Simon and Garfunkel.
Panguitch - I read dozens of reviews of The Return of the King, many brilliantly written, but I never found one to top Andy's. That distinction placed him firmly in my high esteem, and his other reviews are just as illuminating.
5. What is your favorite thing about Epinions?
I love having a place where I can write post reviews without having to go through anybody, and getting comments on them is especially nice. Every once in a while I'll get an e-mail from somebody because they read one of my reviews, and that's especially cool. I also love reading reviews and encountering lots of terrific people.
6. What are your goals for the next year here at Epinions?
I'd really like to regain my top reviewer hats in movies and music. I lost them when I went to England in 2001 for five weeks and didn't write any reviews while I was gone and haven't managed to get them back since. I'd also like to not have so many stretches of several weeks without reviews. (The two, I imagine, complement one another...)
7. If you could change one thing about Epinions, what would it be?
I want my penny-per-hit back!
8. What do you think of the Epinion dolls? Cute or Uglee??
I guess they're kinda cute.
9. What is your favorite pastime at Epinions...Reading or Writing?
As much as I love reading the many wonderful reviews here, it was the writing that drew me here, and in no small measure it's what keeps me here. No matter how great my writer's block, I can always find something to write a review about, which in turn makes me feel productive. And that's a good thing.
10. What is your favorite Write-Off and who was it hosted by??
I don't do write-offs too often. I don't think I can really pick a favorite. Each one has its merits.
Well, there ya go! I've been hanging around more than four years now, so I won't be going away any time soon. Here's to the next four years!
Jekyll and Hyde and Seuss, Oh My!
Last month, when I went to pick up the latest installment in the
VeggieTales series, I encountered an advertisement for the next video.
It was apparently long-awaited, originally having been slated for
release late last year, but I had never heard of it before, so I was
thrilled to discover that yet another addition to my collection would be
arriving in a few short weeks. Moreover, the previews left me prepared
for one of the greatest Veggie offerings to date, riddled with allusions
and hearty helpings of humor and heart. I am an absolute Veggie
devotee, and ranking the episodes would prove a task too strenuous for
my hierarchically challenged mind, but A Snoodle’s Tale would almost certainly land in my top five.
I enjoyed it so much that I did not even miss the asparagi (both Junior and family and Archibald), Pa Grape, Laura Carrot… The only regulars who appeared here were Bob, Larry, Scooter, and Jimmy Gourd. Silly Songs with Larry also featured the unfortunately named Akmetha, the batty leek (I think?) who first graced the screen screeching her love of puppies before the king in Esther and has maintained a silly song presence since. At least her singing voice has improved…
A Snoodle’s Tale segues directly out of The Ballad of Little Joe; it begins with Bob awaiting Larry’s return from Danish Immersion Camp with a large “Velkommen Hjem Larry” sign. But when Larry arrives, he reveals – to Bob’s horror – that a canoeing incident on the first day left him stranded at the Overdone British Literary Adaptations Camp. This means that he doesn’t even know enough Danish to translate the “Welcome Home” sign, let alone fill the role of the Danish truck driver in the story that Bob prepared for the show. However, it does leave him qualified to tell another equally satisfying tale…
The Strange Case of Dr. Jiggle and Mr. Sly takes us back to the streets of London, which appeared before in The Star of Christmas and An Easter Carol. But this time, all the action takes place at night, lending this portion of the video a dark and gritty feel entirely opposite to the second half. This Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde spoof also carries hints of Sherlock Holmes and Watson in the interactions of Butterbun (Scooter) and Pool (Larry). But the object of scrutiny is the kindly but portly Dr. Jiggle and his mysterious new boarder, Mr. Sly, who dresses and dances as though he stepped right out of Saturday Night Fever. Though the original tale is a horror classic, there’s nothing scary in this riotous tale about a self-conscious gourd and his disco aspirations.
There is only one song in the first portion, reprised once. It begins soft and wistful and builds to an over-the-top, operatic chorus, resulting in an effect that is at once impressive and comical. The silly song, “Sport Utility Vehicles,” employs a similar approach, with soft, lovey-dovey verses and a loud pop chorus that climaxes with delusions of grandeur that we hear in the music as much as the words. (The instrumentation in this part was slightly reminiscent for me of the heroic version of the Into the West chorus that accompanied Sam’s Frodo-laden trek up Mt. Doom in Return of the King, an interesting observation since the Snoodle’s hike up Mt. Ginches in the main story reminded me of the same thing. Maybe not so interesting… I probably still just have hobbits on the brain! Then again, I was mesmerized by the comfort of the stranger’s home in A Snoodle’s Tale, but it was not until Mike Nawrocki referred to its hobbitishness on the commentary track that I connected it with Tolkien. Now a VeggieTales Lord of the Rings parody – that would be perfection…) At any rate, Sport Utility Vehicle is an entertaining duet, part love song, part ode to the SUV, and all over-the-top. It’s also the last song in the video, unless you count Qwerty’s “What We Have Learned” ditty.
The title tale is a throwback to The Story of Flibber-o-loo, which is featured after the credits as a bonus. Both are done entirely in rhyme very much in the style of Dr. Seuss, but Snoodle takes the Seussian inspiration a step further, incorporating brightly colored, wildly imaginative sets and dozens of bizarre words of which the good doctor would no doubt approve. The lush settings are the most aesthetically pleasing I have ever seen in a VeggieTales videos, and that’s saying quite a bit. Furthermore, the Snoodles are an entirely different type of creature, something we’ve never encountered before. Their appearance is rather gourd-like, but their skin is pastel and they sport wings, tufts of hair, and hands (but no arms).
This beautifully told story borrows some of its phrasing from The Lorax and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the two books which I believe were Seuss’s finest achievements. For instance, the introduction to the idyllic lands surrounding Snoodleberg bears a remarkable resemblance to the Onceler’s initial description of the forest he destroyed. Moreover, there is an ironic correlation between the snoodle-creating tower in the center of town and the Onceler’s old factory, as well as between the stranger’s home at the top of Mount Ginches and the Grinch’s cave. This is a brilliant homage to Dr. Seuss.
Bob, who narrates the story, is the only familiar character. This story focuses on one particular snoodle, a young fellow (voiced by an actual child, as opposed to Junior Asparagus) whose belittlement by the larger snoodles around him causes him to leave home, deflated. His journey of self-discovery takes him to the peak of Mount Ginches, which he is disturbed to find populated by more than just birds. But he soon discovers that this stranger is unlike all the others. While they shower him with scorn, this snoodle makes the youngster feel welcome and assures him that he is special. The sequence with the stranger is quite remarkable; we never see his face, but his warm British voice and the way the animators showed his surroundings reacting to him yield an incredible sense of compassion and comfort. This incomplete revelation is utterly appropriate for this presence at the heart of each Veggie video who did not manifest himself until this moment.
This latest Veggie episode more than lived up to my expectations. By turns inspiring, heartwarming and hilarious, it is a brilliant addition to any Veggie lover’s collection and, in spite of the allusion to Little Joe, I would recommend it to the uninitiated as evidence of the Veggie team’s intelligence, emotional depth and dedication. Here’s to a job well done!
I enjoyed it so much that I did not even miss the asparagi (both Junior and family and Archibald), Pa Grape, Laura Carrot… The only regulars who appeared here were Bob, Larry, Scooter, and Jimmy Gourd. Silly Songs with Larry also featured the unfortunately named Akmetha, the batty leek (I think?) who first graced the screen screeching her love of puppies before the king in Esther and has maintained a silly song presence since. At least her singing voice has improved…
A Snoodle’s Tale segues directly out of The Ballad of Little Joe; it begins with Bob awaiting Larry’s return from Danish Immersion Camp with a large “Velkommen Hjem Larry” sign. But when Larry arrives, he reveals – to Bob’s horror – that a canoeing incident on the first day left him stranded at the Overdone British Literary Adaptations Camp. This means that he doesn’t even know enough Danish to translate the “Welcome Home” sign, let alone fill the role of the Danish truck driver in the story that Bob prepared for the show. However, it does leave him qualified to tell another equally satisfying tale…
The Strange Case of Dr. Jiggle and Mr. Sly takes us back to the streets of London, which appeared before in The Star of Christmas and An Easter Carol. But this time, all the action takes place at night, lending this portion of the video a dark and gritty feel entirely opposite to the second half. This Dr. Jekyll-Mr. Hyde spoof also carries hints of Sherlock Holmes and Watson in the interactions of Butterbun (Scooter) and Pool (Larry). But the object of scrutiny is the kindly but portly Dr. Jiggle and his mysterious new boarder, Mr. Sly, who dresses and dances as though he stepped right out of Saturday Night Fever. Though the original tale is a horror classic, there’s nothing scary in this riotous tale about a self-conscious gourd and his disco aspirations.
There is only one song in the first portion, reprised once. It begins soft and wistful and builds to an over-the-top, operatic chorus, resulting in an effect that is at once impressive and comical. The silly song, “Sport Utility Vehicles,” employs a similar approach, with soft, lovey-dovey verses and a loud pop chorus that climaxes with delusions of grandeur that we hear in the music as much as the words. (The instrumentation in this part was slightly reminiscent for me of the heroic version of the Into the West chorus that accompanied Sam’s Frodo-laden trek up Mt. Doom in Return of the King, an interesting observation since the Snoodle’s hike up Mt. Ginches in the main story reminded me of the same thing. Maybe not so interesting… I probably still just have hobbits on the brain! Then again, I was mesmerized by the comfort of the stranger’s home in A Snoodle’s Tale, but it was not until Mike Nawrocki referred to its hobbitishness on the commentary track that I connected it with Tolkien. Now a VeggieTales Lord of the Rings parody – that would be perfection…) At any rate, Sport Utility Vehicle is an entertaining duet, part love song, part ode to the SUV, and all over-the-top. It’s also the last song in the video, unless you count Qwerty’s “What We Have Learned” ditty.
The title tale is a throwback to The Story of Flibber-o-loo, which is featured after the credits as a bonus. Both are done entirely in rhyme very much in the style of Dr. Seuss, but Snoodle takes the Seussian inspiration a step further, incorporating brightly colored, wildly imaginative sets and dozens of bizarre words of which the good doctor would no doubt approve. The lush settings are the most aesthetically pleasing I have ever seen in a VeggieTales videos, and that’s saying quite a bit. Furthermore, the Snoodles are an entirely different type of creature, something we’ve never encountered before. Their appearance is rather gourd-like, but their skin is pastel and they sport wings, tufts of hair, and hands (but no arms).
This beautifully told story borrows some of its phrasing from The Lorax and How the Grinch Stole Christmas, the two books which I believe were Seuss’s finest achievements. For instance, the introduction to the idyllic lands surrounding Snoodleberg bears a remarkable resemblance to the Onceler’s initial description of the forest he destroyed. Moreover, there is an ironic correlation between the snoodle-creating tower in the center of town and the Onceler’s old factory, as well as between the stranger’s home at the top of Mount Ginches and the Grinch’s cave. This is a brilliant homage to Dr. Seuss.
Bob, who narrates the story, is the only familiar character. This story focuses on one particular snoodle, a young fellow (voiced by an actual child, as opposed to Junior Asparagus) whose belittlement by the larger snoodles around him causes him to leave home, deflated. His journey of self-discovery takes him to the peak of Mount Ginches, which he is disturbed to find populated by more than just birds. But he soon discovers that this stranger is unlike all the others. While they shower him with scorn, this snoodle makes the youngster feel welcome and assures him that he is special. The sequence with the stranger is quite remarkable; we never see his face, but his warm British voice and the way the animators showed his surroundings reacting to him yield an incredible sense of compassion and comfort. This incomplete revelation is utterly appropriate for this presence at the heart of each Veggie video who did not manifest himself until this moment.
This latest Veggie episode more than lived up to my expectations. By turns inspiring, heartwarming and hilarious, it is a brilliant addition to any Veggie lover’s collection and, in spite of the allusion to Little Joe, I would recommend it to the uninitiated as evidence of the Veggie team’s intelligence, emotional depth and dedication. Here’s to a job well done!
Tuesday, June 1, 2004
That Doggone Dog...
That Ribsy! He may be one of the most agreeable dogs on the face of the
planet, but he’s also one of the most likely to get into trouble. In Henry and Ribsy, this
spells trouble for his owner, Henry Huggins, who has his heart set on
joining his dad on a fishing trip. When he first mentions the
possibility, all that his dad says is, “We’ll see.” That sounds like a
“yes” to Henry, but when he inquires again, shortly after Ribsy snatches
the lunch out of a police officer’s car, Mr. Huggins tells him he can
only go if he keeps Ribsy out of mischief. It sounds easy enough, but
Henry soon realizes the job is going to be a lot harder than he thought.
To make matters worse, his parents decide to assign Henry the task of taking out the garbage every day. Sure, it means an extra fifteen cents in his allowance each week, but Henry isn’t sure dealing with all that smelly trash is worth it, especially when Ribsy inexplicably frightens the garbage man away, leaving Henry to deal with an overflowing can of extra-gross refuse. Just as unfortunate for Henry is the fact that his mother acquired a pair of clippers in order to give him a home haircut. His worries about his mother’s haircutting skills are realized when he looks in the mirror to discover a head full of chewed up hair, and just before the first day of school, too!
But the book doesn’t only spell disaster for Henry. Ribsy makes up for his recent misbehavior when he impresses Henry’s friends with a spur-of-the-minute stunt, and when he’s accused by the neighborhood busybody of terrorizing Ramona, the sage school principal sees the reality of the situation and defends Ribsy in front of the whole PTA. It looks like Henry will get to go on that fishing trip after all, but with Ribsy along for the ride, Henry endures his most chaotic encounter of the book, emerging with a fish tale he’ll be happy to recount again and again.
I recently re-read these books out of order, but that did not detract from my enjoyment of them. All of Cleary’s chronicles are written with such heart and humor, they are a delight no matter what order they are read in. And while they were written specifically with the juvenile crowd in mind, their appeal does not dim when being read by adults. Three cheers for Beverly Cleary!
To make matters worse, his parents decide to assign Henry the task of taking out the garbage every day. Sure, it means an extra fifteen cents in his allowance each week, but Henry isn’t sure dealing with all that smelly trash is worth it, especially when Ribsy inexplicably frightens the garbage man away, leaving Henry to deal with an overflowing can of extra-gross refuse. Just as unfortunate for Henry is the fact that his mother acquired a pair of clippers in order to give him a home haircut. His worries about his mother’s haircutting skills are realized when he looks in the mirror to discover a head full of chewed up hair, and just before the first day of school, too!
But the book doesn’t only spell disaster for Henry. Ribsy makes up for his recent misbehavior when he impresses Henry’s friends with a spur-of-the-minute stunt, and when he’s accused by the neighborhood busybody of terrorizing Ramona, the sage school principal sees the reality of the situation and defends Ribsy in front of the whole PTA. It looks like Henry will get to go on that fishing trip after all, but with Ribsy along for the ride, Henry endures his most chaotic encounter of the book, emerging with a fish tale he’ll be happy to recount again and again.
I recently re-read these books out of order, but that did not detract from my enjoyment of them. All of Cleary’s chronicles are written with such heart and humor, they are a delight no matter what order they are read in. And while they were written specifically with the juvenile crowd in mind, their appeal does not dim when being read by adults. Three cheers for Beverly Cleary!
A Boy and His Bike
In Beverly Cleary’s Ramona books, Ramona longs for a bike of her own.
She only gets to ride a bike when her friend Howie lets her borrow his. Henry and Beezus
finds Henry Huggins in the same situation. He wants nothing in the
world more than his very own bike, which he then hopes to use to help
him get a paper route. The trouble is, bikes are expensive, and Henry’s
parents don’t have the money to buy him one. If he’s going to get one,
the task will fall to Henry to earn the money for it.
Henry knows exactly which one he wants: the beautiful shiny red bike that he passes in the shop window every day. But it costs $59.95, which is an awful lot of money for a young boy without a paper route to produce. With a little help from Ramona’s older sister Beezus, Henry launches a business selling chewing gum that has both lucrative and disastrous results. He’s thrilled when the sometimes chummy, sometimes antagonistic Scooter McCarthy asks him to cover his paper route while he’s away, but first Henry must untrain his dog Ribsy, who, in an attempt to be helpful, has recently taken to collecting all of the newspapers in the neighborhood and depositing them on Henry’s porch. In this endeavor he receives some unexpected aid from Ramona, who is just as pesky as ever in this volume.
It’s interesting to note the differences in characterizations between the Ramona books and the Henry books. Ramona, of course, never comes off so badly from her own perspective. Meanwhile, though the Ramona books generally show Beezus as rather boring and prissy, the Henry books always emphasize that she is “very sensible, for a girl,” and it’s always Beezus who is willing to help Henry out of a jam, no matter how unladylike that requires her to be. She also seems to have a crush on Henry. Beezus is always popping up in the Henry books, but oddly enough, Henry scarcely makes an appearance in the Ramona books at all, and when he does it is usually only as a haughty crossing guard.
Henry, as usual, finds himself in all sorts of unusual situations in this book. It looks like his hopes for a bike are about to derail when he discovers that Ribsy is the recipient of a parking ticket whose fee will just about exhaust his bike fund. Then, when he finally does get his hands on a bike, courtesy of Beezus, it turns out to be such a clunker that none of his repairs are capable of rendering it rideable. It’s no surprise that Henry finally attains his prize at the end of the book, but it’s the unpredictable steps (and mis-steps) along the way that make Henry and Beezus a very satisfying read, worthy of standing alongside Cleary’s other accomplished Henry and Ramona novels.
Henry knows exactly which one he wants: the beautiful shiny red bike that he passes in the shop window every day. But it costs $59.95, which is an awful lot of money for a young boy without a paper route to produce. With a little help from Ramona’s older sister Beezus, Henry launches a business selling chewing gum that has both lucrative and disastrous results. He’s thrilled when the sometimes chummy, sometimes antagonistic Scooter McCarthy asks him to cover his paper route while he’s away, but first Henry must untrain his dog Ribsy, who, in an attempt to be helpful, has recently taken to collecting all of the newspapers in the neighborhood and depositing them on Henry’s porch. In this endeavor he receives some unexpected aid from Ramona, who is just as pesky as ever in this volume.
It’s interesting to note the differences in characterizations between the Ramona books and the Henry books. Ramona, of course, never comes off so badly from her own perspective. Meanwhile, though the Ramona books generally show Beezus as rather boring and prissy, the Henry books always emphasize that she is “very sensible, for a girl,” and it’s always Beezus who is willing to help Henry out of a jam, no matter how unladylike that requires her to be. She also seems to have a crush on Henry. Beezus is always popping up in the Henry books, but oddly enough, Henry scarcely makes an appearance in the Ramona books at all, and when he does it is usually only as a haughty crossing guard.
Henry, as usual, finds himself in all sorts of unusual situations in this book. It looks like his hopes for a bike are about to derail when he discovers that Ribsy is the recipient of a parking ticket whose fee will just about exhaust his bike fund. Then, when he finally does get his hands on a bike, courtesy of Beezus, it turns out to be such a clunker that none of his repairs are capable of rendering it rideable. It’s no surprise that Henry finally attains his prize at the end of the book, but it’s the unpredictable steps (and mis-steps) along the way that make Henry and Beezus a very satisfying read, worthy of standing alongside Cleary’s other accomplished Henry and Ramona novels.
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