Sunday, February 26, 2012

The World According to Mister Rogers Is a Nice World Indeed


Last weekend, I had a wonderful visit with my grandparents, and it occurred to me that my grandpa shares many of the traits that made Fred Rogers such a beloved figure: empathy, gentleness, compassion, a childlike spirit, the role of minister. I got the itch to reread I’m Proud of You, a book chronicling the friendship one man shared with Fred Rogers, mostly through correspondence and phone calls, so I searched my shelves, but instead, I found The World According to Mister Rogers: Important Things to Remember, which collects more than 150 quotes from the children’s television sage grouped into four chapters.

The Courage to Be Yourself includes quotes about personal authenticity in the face of challenges. Several quotes recall Rogers’ childhood and the positive example that others – particularly his grandfather, Fred McFeely – set for him, while others deal with the constant process of discovering oneself. His tone is both encouraging and humble. For instance, I love, “Little by little we human beings are confronted with situations that give us more and more clues that we aren’t perfect.”

In Understanding Love, we find quotes relating to the importance and mystery of love. He talks about how hard it is to love others sometimes but how worthwhile that struggle is. Several of the quotes in this section are spread across two pages, including the touching song It’s You I Like, which reminds us to seek out and recognize the uniqueness of each person we encounter. The second chapter flows naturally from the first, as evidenced in its closing thought: “When we love a person, we accept him or her exactly as is: the lovely with the unlovely, the strong along with the fearful, the true mixed in with the facade, and of course, the only way we can do it is by accepting ourselves that way.”

In The Challenges of Inner Discipline, he addresses the value of channeling emotions in ways that are productive and methods of turning wishes into reality. It is in this chapter that he shares the story of his early encounter with a famous songwriter who praised his songs but told him to come back when he had a barrelful. This important tidbit serves as impetus to always keep working at your goals no matter how happy you are with what you’ve accomplished.

Finally, We Are All Neighbors focuses on the connections among people and how much better the world would be if everyone took the time to see the value in those they meet. This is the chapter that includes the lyrics to Won’t You Be My Neighbor?, arguably the most famous of his songs, and it also includes discussion of some of his personal heroes, both famous and not, and the inspiring observation that “the ultimate happiness is being able sometimes, somehow to help our neighbor become a hero too.”

You can read through the book in a couple of hours, though it’s worth taking a while to digest each quote. I could see this being a great text for use with a response journal. Many of the quotes say similar things, but they are distinct enough that each makes an impact. Some quotes are only a sentence long, while others span several paragraphs. This is a nice book to have handy on a coffee table or in some other place where people might pick it up and leaf through it. The longest continuous stretch of writing is the nine-page-long foreword penned by Fred’s widow Joanne, who details their more than 50 years together from their college days, and this provides an intimate, insightful peek at the man whose words fill the rest of the book.

While people of any age could take something valuable from this collection, the quotes and anecdotes are not geared specifically toward children. Rather, I would say that the book’s primary audience is made up of those who grew up with Mr. Rogers’ Neighborhood and could use an extra dose of the reassurance it provided now that they are adults. Reading this book produces a calming effect similar to watching that gentle, affirming children’s program or to spending time with two terrific grandparents.

Monday, February 20, 2012

On Presidents' Day, Read About Lincoln's Handy Hat

Today is Presidents' Day, a holiday to honor America's presidents, particularly George Washington and Abraham Lincoln, whose birthdays are in February. I tend to think of Lincoln much more on his birthday, February 12, which is also my birthday, but I thought this would be a good day to review a Lincoln book I received for my birthday. While it was written specifically for beginning readers, Lincoln enthusiasts of any age can find enjoyment in Mr. Lincoln's Hat.

This 48-page book written by Martha Brenner and illustrated by Donald Cook focuses mostly on Lincoln's early adulthood. The hat, which is such an iconic element of Lincoln's image, is both a useful and comical prop. Brenner explains in simple, appealing language how useful Lincoln's hat was to him as a means of keeping track of all his papers. The portrait that emerges through the several sentences per page is that of a very smart but rather scatterbrained man who did not take himself too seriously. At the same time, he was deeply committed to certain causes, and his folksy manner was an asset to him as he championed them.

Brenner effectively uses repetition, both for the sake of clarity and humor, to weave her tale of the different ways in which Lincoln's hat came in handy and played some sort of role in famous incidents in his life. She cites several specific events, including a murder trial and another trial that served as an early indication of his loathing for slavery. She also includes several funny stories, such the time that some mischievous boys strung a rope up to knock his hat off his head and another time when a judge fined him for whispering a joke during a trial then rescinded the fine after finding the joke hilarious himself.

The illustrations have a soft quality to them and are rich in detail. Many of them, such as the cover illustration depicting him running down the street after his hat and scattered letters, have a humorous quality to them. This is a great book to use in order to introduce children to other aspects of Lincoln's life before his presidency, and its whimsical quality adds to the appeal.

I've seen many books about Lincoln for this age group. Several focus on his childhood or upon his presidency. Others follow him throughout his life, showing how his early love of reading or of animals helped shape the decisions he made later. This book has elements of both those approaches, as it zeroes in on a particular time in Lincoln's life but does so through the lens of a specific object of importance to him. This focus works very well, and as a lifelong Lincoln fan and a bit of a scatterbrain, I found myself both entertained and tempted to try his unique organizational system for myself.

Sunday, February 19, 2012

Linus Fills the Air With Christmas Cheer

In 2011, Hallmark introduced one of the most charming and ingenious sets of Christmas decorations I have ever encountered. Entitled the Wireless Peanuts Band, this merry group consisted of four beloved characters, each of which played the primary melody on two songs and backup on the rest. As long as they were within close range of each other, the figures interacted with each other without the aid of cords or any other connecting device. We had so much fun with the quartet that we decided to leave them up all year.

We were delighted, then, to discover that a fifth member had been added to the set we’d considered complete. As soon as Mom and I spied Linus, we snatched him up, and he now sits happily on the piano with the rest. Like them, he wears a red Santa hat with white trim. His shoes are brown, while his pants and scarf are red and his pants are green. In his hand, he clutches a trumpet, and unlike the other two characters playing air-powered instruments, he wears a wide smile.

Linus is made of hard plastic and stands about four inches tall. He sways forward and backward at the point of the bottom of his coat when he feels the spirit in the music he is playing. Like the others, he stands flat on a platform made to look like a wood paneled floor. This platform is about three and a half inches long, three inches wide and just over an inch tall. It is the same size as the others in the series, except that Schroeder’s is slightly longer to accommodate his piano. Near the front is the button that you must push to activate each song.

Because Charlie Brown already plays the saxophone, Linus’s trumpet doesn’t add something dramatically different to the group, but it is still a welcome addition. What’s more, he brings with him two songs of his own: Joy to the World and We Wish You a Merry Christmas. I find that Lucy’s accompaniment shines most clearly in the first and Schroeder’s in the second, but the group as a whole sounds nice together.

Encountering Linus in December was a sweet surprise prompting me to wonder whether other characters might turn up in future years. Now that we’ve got Charlie Brown, Schroeder, Snoopy, Lucy and Linus, I could imagine them adding folks like Peppermint Patty, Marcie, Sally and Pigpen. While the sound might become a bit cluttered with so many participants, I certainly would snatch up any others they add to the series. I also find myself hoping they’ll do something like this for other sets of characters such as the Pooh gang. For now, though, I am very happy with the five characters I have, and I look forward to them serenading me throughout the year.

Monday, February 13, 2012

The Boy Who Hated Valentine's Day Will Change His Mind

While I enjoy Valentine’s Day every year, it was always most fun for me when I was in elementary school.  Those were the days of decorating cardboard mailboxes, sitting down and carefully choosing – or, if you were really artistic, making – Valentines for each classmate and coming home the next day with a full box of your own.  I still have dozens of old-school Valentines sitting in a plastic tub with all the other cards I’ve received over the years.  The signatures of my long-ago classmates and the heavy dose of 80s pop culture in the small perforated cards that most kids preferred make me smile when nostalgia compels me to peruse them.

Reading The Boy Who Hated Valentine’s Day took me back to those days.  In this picture book written by Sally Wittman and illustrated by Chaya Burstein, Ben is the titular character.  The reason he hates the holiday is twofold.  First, he hates it because a bullying classmate convinces him that it’s for sissies, and he feels embarrassed about loving it.  Second, he hates it because he spends so much time berating Valentine’s Day that none of his classmates give him cards.  Thus, he begins to develop a different kind of dislike for the day.

The following year, Ben recalls his disappointment at the lack of cards around the same time he discovers his burgeoning artistic talent.  When his dad jokingly suggests he take up a career in counterfeiting, Ben comes up with a complex plan to avoid the humiliation of last year.  While it is clever in its way, wouldn’t it make more sense to simply renounce his renouncing of Valentine’s Day?  Surely he realizes that the only reason he didn’t get any cards last year is that everyone thought he didn’t want them.

Then again, when people are dealing with hurt feelings, they don’t always behave in the most logical fashion.  What matters is that Ben approaches his next Valentine’s Day with a spirit of resentfulness, but he channels that bitterness into creativity and then is compelled into a compassionate act that brings him a much happier holiday than he anticipated.  The story becomes a doorway to a wonderful approach to the world: if you feel have been slighted, instead of stewing in your own juices, try to reach out to someone else in a similar position.  Chances are that you will both be happier as a result.

This is a cute story with a good message and three well-defined characters.  The familiar situation of an elementary school card exchange makes it relatable for many kids, while Burstein’s illustrations have an appealingly old-fashioned look to them.  As people get older, many become disenfranchised with Valentine’s Day for a variety of reasons, but for an eight-year-old, the holiday ought to be innocent fun.  Perhaps, as Wittman proposes, it might even be the catalyst for a new friendship, and that truly is something to celebrate.

Friday, February 10, 2012

Jane Austen Shares Her Thwarted Love Story in The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen

Over the past couple of decades, Jane Austen’s popularity has soared, sparking a whole sub-genre of books incorporating her life and characters. Knowing my fondness for this literary giant, a friend of mine recently lent me her collection of Austen-inspired books. I kicked off my reading marathon with The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen, a novel by Syrie James that purports to be a long-missing manuscript explaining a gap in the author’s writing life.

The voice that James adopts as Jane feels authentic to the period, albeit more conciliatory than I would imagine. Austen is known for her razor-sharp wit, and she could be quite merciless with her descriptions and dialogue. Here, she seems more like Pride and Prejudice’s Jane Bennett, generally seeking to believe the best in people and making excuses for any shortcomings that arise. Hence, she comes across as more charitable but less funny than expected.

Additionally, at a few points, James so closely mirrors scenes from Austen’s books that it seems a discredit to her creativity, as the implication is that she simply lifted events from her own life and planted them on the pages of her novels. While most of the footnotes are informative and shed light on Austen’s background and the general historical period, I found myself annoyed by the ones that said, in reference to an invented conversation mirroring one of the novels, “This is likely the inspiration for…” It’s cheesy, and I think the book would have been stronger if readers had been left to recognize those parallels on their own.

On the whole, however, I found it an enjoyable read, with the close relationship between Jane and her sister Cassandra especially well-drawn. Reading this book, I got the sense that this was a woman who very well could have vanished into obscurity without ever having been published, and what a loss that would have been! Reading of her attempts at writing at a time when she thought it folly was heartening for this struggling storyteller.

It has puzzled many Austen fans that some of the most enduring romance in English literature could have been crafted by a spinster who had never experienced it herself. While I simply credit Austen’s vivid imagination, the romance James invents here feels plausible, and it was easy to get caught up in it even though I knew that it ultimately would not work out. That still left plenty of room to speculate about how and why it concluded. Was it a matter of economics? Mistaken impressions? A fear that marrying would deny her the time she needed to write? These questions helped the ending retain an element of surprise despite having it spelled out at the beginning.

I was never quite able to forget that this was a novel, but even if the artifice didn’t entirely convince me, The Lost Memoirs of Jane Austen is an engaging read for those who enjoy Austen’s work.

Beauty and the Beast Takes a Darker Turn in Its Second Season

In the late 1980s, an unusual twist on the classic fairy tale Beauty and the Beast came to network television. In this fantasy / crime procedural, the Beauty was Catherine Chandler, a New York City DA's assistant played by Linda Hamilton, and the Beast was Vincent, a soft-spoken Ron Perlman under multiple layers of makeup. With a leonine appearance more regal than freakish and a nearly boundless capacity for empathy, Vincent, who lived in a gorgeous gothic underworld with his idealistic adoptive father (Roy Dotrice) and an assortment of societal misfits, was the show's most compelling character, and the depth of his bond with Catherine made them one of the most romantic couples on television.

The second season of this series is, up to a certain point, much like the first. Usually, Catherine must help to solve some sort of crime, and Vincent is often on hand to offer protection from thuggish types. More often in this season, the action is focused on the underworld and its residents or former residents. We meet several characters who struggle with the decision of whether to leave the warmth and safety of this community for the opportunities afforded by the world above.

Another recurring theme is someone forming a romantic attachment to either Catherine or Vincent. Sometimes this affection is returned to some extent, sometimes not, but it always is a source of some angst as the show's central characters yearn for a perfect union of their own. Like Ned and Chuck of Pushing Daisies, they must accept from the beginning that their relationship carries with it impossible barriers; while that show deals with the impracticalities in a largely whimsical manner, this one takes a melancholy approach.

Perlman and Hamilton provide brief introductions to several episodes, and these shed some light on the creative struggle of Ron Koslow and his fellow writers to find new ways of separating Vincent and Catherine and reuniting them without the tug-of-war becoming stale. Most of my favorite episodes have this tension at the core, though I also love the ones that focus on their joint efforts to bring healing to a particularly troubled individual, such as the simpleton with a disfiguring disease brought to the underground by a former resident.

As before, several of Vincent's comrades make multiple appearances, with the earnest, mildly autistic Mouse (David Greenlee) the most prominent of the minor players. Longstanding villain Paracelsus (Tony Jay) returns with menace afresh and an unnerving ability to take on the guises of other people. Up above, we see a lot of Catherine's cheerful boss Joe (Jay Acovone), and an old boyfriend resurfaces to stir up both trouble and conflicted feelings.

I like most of the second season as much as the first. However, the last few episodes take a very dark and violent turn, and the savagery Vincent is forced to unleash as a result is most unsettling. It sets us up for a drastically different third season, so the change feels fitting but not terribly appealing. This season includes some of the show's most touching moments, including the introduction of words for the theme song in a montage in one of the last episodes, but by its end, the show has morphed from a mostly gentle exploration of an unconventional romance into something more action-heavy and tragic. I still recommend it, but if you loved the earlier episodes, you might not be thrilled with the direction the series takes.

Monday, February 6, 2012

Get to Know Yourself and Others With David Keirsey's Please Understand Me II

“I’m looking for space, and to find out who I am. And I’m looking to know and understand…” This plaintive lyric from John Denver has long been a personal anthem for me, a soul searcher perpetually striving to figure out who I am at the core and what my purpose in life is. It was with this in mind that I took the Keirsey Temperament Sorter a while back. The resulting assortment of letters did not surprise me, as I’d taken the similar Myers-Briggs Type Indicator before and come out the same way, but I was taken aback by the extensive type description, most of which I felt I could have written describing myself. This intrigued me enough to consult the library card catalog and take out Please Understand Me II, Keirsey’s book that divides the 16 personality types into four distinct temperament groups. It made for fascinating reading.

David Keirsey devotes one chapter with many sub-sections to each of the four temperaments, and this is the meat of the book, with about 40 pages per temperament, though surrounding chapters delve into specific issues like romantic pairing and parenting and leadership styles. This muddles the structure of the book a bit; I think with a little reorganization it could have simply been broken up into four parts, with each part having several chapters, and it might have flowed a little more naturally. However, perhaps Keirsey was hoping that if some chapters dealt with all four of the temperaments, readers would be less likely to simply skip to the part that applies to their type.

The book opens with the Temperament Sorter and instructions on how to score it, so anyone who picks up Please Understand Me II without knowing his or her personality type can find out fairly easily. Granted, it’s an imperfect test, and some of the questions are phrased rather strangely, so it’s possible you won’t end up with the most accurate possible result. Still, it will at least give you something to keep an eye out for, and as you read you can debate whether you think the test got it right.

It can also be fun to get friends to take the test or to try to guess at their type based on whether they are more Introverted or Extroverted, more iNtuitive or Sense-oriented, more Thinking or Feeling, and more Perceiving or Judging. Keirsey is an able writer; his descriptions are enjoyable, and he jazzes them up with anecdotes and quotes from people he identifies as having a particular temperament or personality type. It’s more interesting to read each section with particular people in mind, though.

Keirsey’s goal in presenting this information is to convince people that what is normal for one is not necessarily normal for another and that instead of trying to force “Pygmalion Projects” on each other, trying to make others conform to a particular way of thinking or behaving, we should accept each other’s differences and think of the strengths that people of each type bring to the table. My most cherished fictional worlds, from Winnie the Pooh and M*A*S*H to Lord of the Rings, LOST and, most recently, Trixie Belden, celebrate this type of cooperative spirit, so I was very much in agreement with Keirsey’s aims.

The four temperaments he defines are the Sensing-Perceiving Artisans, the Sensing-Judging Guardians, the Intuitive-Feeling Idealists and the Intuitive-Thinking Rationals. Each temperament is further broken down into proactive and reactive pairs, made up of one expressive type and one attentive type. Within each temperament, Keirsey goes through a checklist of attributes that people in this group will typically share. Each section includes a graph that lists 29 different descriptions across seven categories: language, intellect, interest, orientation, self-image, value and social role.

For instance, Keirsey says that Artisans derive their self-esteem from being artistic, Guardians from being dependable, Idealists from being empathic and Rationals from being ingenious. Another characteristic comparison I found interesting was what people yearn for: impact for Artisans, belonging for Guardians, romance for Idealists and achievement for Rationals. Looking it all over at a glance without reading the sub-sections doesn’t mean a whole lot; it’s just a big information dump. But once you’ve read each section, it’s a handy little resource that makes it easier to differentiate among the temperaments.

After the main overview, each chapter includes a breakdown of the four role variants for each temperament. Each type has its own set of particular attributes and a positive one-word descriptive title. Artisans include Promoters (ESTP), Crafters (ISTP), Performers (ESFP) and Composers (ISFP); Guardians include Supervisors (ESTJ), Inspectors (ISTJ), Providers (ESFJ) and Protectors (ISFJ); Rationals include Fieldmarshals (ENTJ), Masterminds (INTJ), Inventors (ENTP) and Architects (INTP). The chapter that interested me most was the one dealing with Idealists, since that is my temperament. This group includes Teachers (ENFJ), Counselors (INFJ), Champions (ENFP) and Healers (INFP).

With few exceptions, I found the commentary on Idealists in general and Healers in particular to be right on target for me, and reading up on the other types and temperaments gave me a better idea of how differently people approach things and how conflicts might be avoided if these varied perspectives were embraced and allowed to complement each other. Granted, two of the Healer’s most definitive qualities are wanting authenticity for themselves and others and wanting to restore unity in the midst of divisions, so he’s preaching to the choir with me, but I think that anyone could find value in Keirsey’s invitation to understand each other’s perspectives more clearly.

Several years earlier, Keirsey published Please Understand Me, which I haven’t read, so I can’t comment on the extent to which this is either a worthy follow-up to or replacement of that book, but as a stand-alone read, it strikes me as very helpful. The four main chapters are organized in exactly the same way, so it’s very easy to skip around and compare and contrast. I didn’t read this book in a very linear fashion myself. While the writing is good, too much at once gets a little dry, and of course within every person are infinite variations, and not everyone will fit neatly into a particular type or temperament. Still, Keirsey’s style is generally engaging, and the categorizations all seem very well thought out. Someone who knows more about psychology than I do would be better qualified to comment on the book’s accuracy and practical applications, but for me, it was an eye-opening and heartening read.

Thursday, February 2, 2012

A Mother and Son Rediscover Each Other in An Irish Christmas

It’s no secret to anyone who knows me how much I love Ireland. My Swedish grandma sometimes teases me about this, but when she happened upon Melody Carlson’s An Irish Christmas, she snatched it up for me, as she figured it was definitely my kind of book. I read it over Christmas vacation, and I would generally have to agree.

This novel, written by prolific Christian author Melody Carlson, focuses on Colleen, a middle-aged widow, and her son Jamie. A rift has grown between her and her free-spirited son, who, feeling stifled by the expectation that he would take over the family shoe business, has been pursuing music in secret. Colleen has a secret of her own, and she wants to share it with Jamie on a Christmas trip to Ireland. Each has been hurt by the other’s lack of consideration in the past but is afraid of hurting the other with the information that has been held back for so long.

The majority of the book takes place in various tiny towns in Ireland, so the setting appealed to me very much. My appreciation for it was increased by the fact that it is the early 1960s, which has always been a time period of particular interest for me. One of the defining events of the book is the Kennedy assassination, and the looming Vietnam War makes Colleen very fearful of Jamie’s professed intention to join the armed forces. The 60s, along with the 70s, are my favorite period in popular music, and there is some mention of a couple favorite groups, but for the most part, the focus is on a style rather than particular individuals.

Carlson uses alternating chapters to tell her story, with Jamie narrating half and Colleen the other half. Colleen’s chapters feel more natural, perhaps because her perspective is closer to the author’s. Carlson does have a tendency to overuse certain words, such as “groovy,” and phrases, like “it seems to be the case,” and this can give her writing a bit of a clunky feel at times. The prose is generally more utilitarian than artful, but there are times when she seems to get caught up in the beauty of the Irish surroundings and the words on the page reflect that loveliness very well.

This is an uplifting story that relies a little heavily on coincidence, with some people very conveniently being in the right place at the right time, but then she seems to be going for a slightly magical feel here and I think it works. Jamie’s tumultuous feelings about the path he would like his life to take and Colleen’s guilt and regret about decisions in her past ring true and set the stage for reconciliation and self-discovery. If you wish you could spend a couple weeks on an Irish getaway, An Irish Christmas makes for a nice holiday in your head.

Return to a Simpler Time With Season Two of Little House on the Prairie

A while back, my friend lent me some seasons of Little House on the Prairie as comfort viewing for my mom as she was recovering from hip surgery. It’s a wonderful show to lose yourself in, a reminder of a time when life was simultaneously simpler and more difficult. Granted, the vision of Michael Landon and others cast a rosier glow on some aspects of pioneer life and also gave it a more contemporary feel than the original Laura Ingalls Wilder stories. Nonetheless, it’s the sort of feel-good, wholesome show that grandparents love and kids don’t mind watching because there’s always so much mischief for youngsters to get into.

The second season is much like the first, focusing largely on the Ingalls family, especially demure Mary (Melissa Sue Anderson) and spunky Laura (Melissa Gilbert). Several of my favorite episodes involve Laura’s open-hearted and rather tomboyish tendencies, which lead her to form strong bonds with lonely bachelors. I especially love Ebenezer Sprague, in which Laura befriends the crotchety title character at the fishing hole, having no idea that he is the miserly new banker who is currently the least popular man in town. This episode exemplifies the warmth, humor and optimistic spirit that pervades the series.

Many episodes involve school-day trials, such as Mary and Laura’s ill-advised attempts at Sunday school fundraising or the class project that results in the pesky Olesons tagging along on the Ingalls’ camping trip. Long-suffering shopkeeper Nels (Richard Bull) is particularly easy to sympathize with here as his wife and children do their best to drive everyone batty, though his bratty daughter’s worst moment comes in The Talking Machine, when she tricks Laura into a public confession of a crush.

While those episodes are largely light-hearted, some have a more somber tone to them. Centennial reminded me of the Occupy movement as heavy taxes have the Walnut Grove residents up in arms – until a humble immigrant forced out of his new home due to the previous owner’s back taxes gives them a new perspective. The most emotional episode is the two-parter Remember Me, which was of particular interest to me because it was excerpted in the final season of LOST. A dying woman appoints Charles (Landon) to find a suitable future home for her children, an act that throws one of Walnut Grove’s most colorful residents into turmoil as he finds himself growing attached to them.

The second season contains 22 episodes in all, and each one is enjoyable. The show focuses almost equally upon the children and adults in this tight-knit community, so it really is a show the whole family can enjoy together, with different aspects standing out to different viewers. Additionally, the series is episodic enough that there’s no disadvantage to starting with this season instead of the first. No matter where you begin, once you’ve fallen in love with the characters, Walnut Grove is a place to which you will want to return.