Explore the Enigmas of Ghost Fish and Trixie's Whining in The Mystery at Bob-White Cave

In The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, the first book in C. S. Lewis’s Chronicles of Narnia, a relentless rain leaves the stir-crazy Pevensie children down in the dumps. Little do they know that their ticket to adventure is not the expansive grounds of the stately home in which they are staying but the old wardrobe in the spare bedroom. In The Mystery at Bob-White Cave, rain leads intrepid 14-year-old sleuth Trixie Belden to her next great challenge as well, since it forces her to sit still long enough to read a magazine announcing that anyone who brings three particular specimens of the cave-dwelling ghost fish will receive a reward of $500.

Trixie really wants that money, especially since getting it will be tricky enough that succeeding will bring a real sense of accomplishment. She already knows exactly how she wants to use it. She and her fellow Bob-Whites – her brothers Brian and Mart, her best friend Honey and Honey’s adopted brother Jim, all of whom are with her on this trip to the Ozarks, and her neighbors Di and Dan, who aren’t – have a strong desire to help others, and their latest project is to buy a station wagon to bring disabled children to school back in their hometown of Sleepyside, New York. It’s a noble cause, and Trixie is determined, so even though the other four had hoped for a less goal-oriented vacation, they go along with her plan.

This is the eleventh book in the Trixie Belden series and the fifth written by a ghostwriter under the name Kathryn Kenny. If I had to venture a guess, I’d say that this writer was new to the series, partly because she turns Trixie into a kind of all-American Veruca Salt. That notorious brat from Charlie and the Chocolate Factory kept popping into my head as I read all of Trixie’s interminable foot-stamping “But Uncle Andrew, I want a ghost fish! Now!” moaning. The whining begins with the rain, when she goes into a tirade about the misery of this trip to see her favorite uncle in one of his two (or more?) homes. Uncle Andrew is a wonderful, doting man who clearly thinks the world of his niece and nephews, so such ingratitude is instantly off-putting. Trixie soon apologizes for this outburst, which he fortunately doesn’t hear, but her petulance is almost instantly transferred onto the search for the fish, and anything that gets in the way of her securing that prize is an object of extreme impatience.

A more positive element of this book that seems to distinguish this author from others is her attention to natural detail. For instance, “A wind came up through the silence, a silence more ominous than the rolling thunder which accented it. The sky in the west was a sullen green around the edges.” Clearly, this was written by someone with a great appreciation for the outdoors, as her most colorful writing is reserved for descriptions of the forest, the caves and other aspects of the landscape and weather. Usually this means a paragraph or two at a time, so it never overwhelms the story, and it helped me to get caught up in the setting.

Aside from Trixie, who at least apologizes from time to time for being such a pill, none of the characters seem vastly off to me here, except perhaps Honey, who is often excessive in her fretting. However, she still joins in several dangerous expeditions, so her actions speak louder than her words on the fear front, and apart from some chiding for Trixie’s recklessness, her tactful nature is generally evident throughout the book. Aside from brief mentions by the Bob-Whites, Dan and Di don’t appear in the book at all, nor do any of the Sleepyside supporting characters, as the book takes place entirely in the Ozarks. Because of this, it took me a little while to figure out just when the book occurs, though I figured it must have been early summer if they were out of school but the boys were not away at camp.

For the first time, the author introduces a supernatural element into the stories. Well, the seventh book includes some local folk legends, but they don’t really tie into the main plot. Here, Mrs. Moore and her daughter Linnie, who take care of Uncle Andrew’s Missouri fishing lodge, fervently believe in ghosts, and although the Bob-Whites mostly think that all this talk of spirits is a load of hogwash, some mysterious events seem as though they could point to ghostly intervention. Because of that, this particular outing reminded me a bit of a Scooby-Doo adventure, and I just knew that eventually, the “ghost” allegedly wandering around nearby would be revealed as a perfectly normal, living person. I like the revelation there, but Uncle Andrew and the New York bunch seem a little insensitive sometimes as they openly show their disdain for the ghost legends that fill these hills. Mrs. Moore’s constant attribution of incidents to ghosts does get a little silly, but it seems it would be more polite to let her express herself openly instead of always trying to contradict her.

Mostly, though, the Bob-Whites are helpful and friendly during their stay, and even though delays in her fish mission aggravate her, Trixie happily helps sweet-natured Linnie and maternal Mrs. Moore with a variety of tasks, and it is she who mobilizes the group to save a drowning man in one of the book’s best sequences. The rugged terrain means that most of the danger the teens face in this book is natural. A wildcat and a flood pose serious threats. So does a fire, which is set purposefully but is made all the more dangerous by the surrounding woodlands.

However, there are shady characters lurking about, most notably a scowling, drawling young man named Slim whom Uncle Andrew elects to act as the Bob-Whites’ spelunking guide. Is he merely disagreeable, or could this guy be seriously bad news? And what about all that odd activity up at what the locals refer to as the ghost cabin? What’s more, just about anybody in the vicinity could be a contender for the same prize that Trixie seeks, so even those who aren’t willing to stoop to dastardly means to acquire the ghost fish still potentially stand in the way of them achieving their goal. Time is of the essence.

I’ve always found caves fascinating, so I enjoyed all the spelunking expeditions in this novel, as well as the folksy gatherings of neighbors for some old-fashioned mountain music. It was also great to spend so much time in the company of Uncle Andrew, who is such a kind and conscientious caretaker, and his equally upstanding friend Bill Hawkins. While I wish this author hadn’t turned Trixie into such a twerp, this trip to the Ozarks made for a pretty enjoyable outing.

Ursula Unveils a Musical Plot in The Magic Melody

On a recent trip to the library, I discovered a line of books entitled The Little Mermaid’s Treasure Chest. As a fan of The Little Mermaid, I found these little books intriguing, and I checked out several, only to be a bit puzzled about the timeline and characters I’d never encountered before. A search led me to discover that this book series was born after the television series Little Mermaid’s Island, a proposed collaboration between Jim Henson and Disney that would have had a human Ariel and puppets playing the side characters, fell through. The stories planned for that series were turned into the books for this series, which seem to have only been available to those who ordered them through the mail as part of a special club.

In The Magic Melody, the only characters present are those we already know from the movie. Flounder’s twin sister, who is pink and named Sandy, and a dragon named Scales appear in several of the other books, but here it’s just Ariel, Sebastian, Triton, Ursula and her faithful eels. Flounder also makes a very brief appearance. The story takes place at some point before the movie but after the television series that followed. Ariel looks about the same age as in the movie, so I would guess that all of the stories take place within that same year.

Ursula is plotting to take over the ocean. Her latest plot involves tricking Ariel into delivering King Triton’s magical trident to her. She’ll accomplish this by leaving Ariel a mysterious gift: an enchanted music box that will hypnotize the listener after three repetitions of its song. Ariel takes the bait, but can something be done to stop her from falling under Ursula’s spell?

The trouble with prequels is that it’s very hard to maintain perfect continuity. It was always my impression from The Little Mermaid that Ariel had only ever heard of Ursula, but in this book, they speak to each other. Ariel is perfectly aware of who she is, and she knows that Ursula has every intention of taking over her father’s command. This is not her only attempt in the series. This seems to me to change the relationship between Ariel and Ursula; the savvy mermaid we see in this series shouldn’t have been taken in by the sea witch months later.

Still, this is a fun story about friends looking out for each other and outwitting a nefarious villain. The coloring is vibrant, and the characters all look very much the same as they do in the movie. Most of the pages have one or two paragraphs of text set on top of the picture, and I’d put the reading level somewhere in the 7-to-10-year-old range.

For fans of The Little Mermaid, The Magic Melody is a charming read. Continuity issues aside, this is a series that Ariel lovers can treasure.

Flounder and Ursula Have Their Eyes on the Same Prize in An Undersea Wish

In one of my favorite episodes of The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh, Rabbit anxiously awaits the moment when his prized rutabaga potato will bloom. It’s a much-anticipated event, and the magic is in the rare blossoming of this fascinating plant. In An Undersea Wish, a book in The Little Mermaid’s Treasure Chest mail-order series published in 1992, Flounder is similarly entranced by a beautiful plant that almost never blooms, but his interest is not purely aesthetic.

Flounder is aware of the legend that when the flaminia blooms, whoever is watching will be granted a wish – but only if he is watching it happen all by himself. He believes that he is the only undersea resident to know about the legend and realize that this is the day he must go on a flower stake-out, but there is someone else who hopes to receive a wish from the amazing flower: Ursula, the sea witch. She sends her eels, Flotsam and Jetsam, to tell Flounder that Ariel is in trouble in hopes that this will convince him to vacate the premises. It works like a charm, but will Flounder be able to make it back to the flower before it blooms so he can stop Ursula from wishing to take over for King Triton as undersea ruler?

I’ve always found Flounder a very sweet character, so I liked that he gets a book to himself here. His twin sister Sandy, exclusive to this series, also makes an appearance, as does Sebastian, but this is mostly about his friendship with Ariel and his willingness to give up his dream to ensure his friend’s safety. Of course, Flounder, being the insecure little guy he is, has made one of those wishes that is basically already true, and he just doesn’t realize it. He wants to be “famous and important and loved” before it’s all said and done, he’ll realize that he is all three, especially the last, which is, after all, the most worthwhile of the three.

Of the three books in this series that I have read thus far, An Undersea Wish is my favorite. Continuity issues seem to ripple throughout the book series, but aside from another confrontation with Ursula involving Ariel, there’s nothing too glaring here. I’m curious as to whether Flounder’s twin was ever officially introduced; here, she’s really just a background character.

Like the rest of the books in this series, this one is a hardcover, with a cover design that resembles a golden treasure chest on the outside and has a significant scene from the book inside. It’s a pretty small book, wider than it is tall, and each page contains a paragraph or two of text. The illustrations are colorful, and all of the characters are rendered well. I especially like Flounder’s varied expressions.

If you’re a fan of the shy, loyal Flounder, chances are you’ll love An Undersea Wish.

David Wiesner Explores Mysterious Fathoms Below in Flotsam

The first time I encountered the word “flotsam” was when I saw The Little Mermaid in second grade. I had to ask for an explanation behind the names of Ursula’s pet eels, Flotsam and Jetsam, and I learned that flotsam is material that floats on the surface of the water. In David Wiesner’s Flotsam, the title refers to any number of objects, but most of all it refers to the underwater camera found by a boy who is spending the day at the beach. Wiesner shows us the boy at times, but he also shows us things from the boy’s perspective, so we get up-close and personal with several unusual items and especially with the photographs developed with the film from the camera.

Flotsam is unusual first and foremost because it is a picture book in the truest sense of the word. There are no words, aside from the occasional label on an object or sign. Few pages features just one picture, though; most have several different panels of varying sizes, which allows for a lot of action in a short number of pages. One page has 13 different panels, most of which are used to illustrate the tedium of waiting for a roll of film to be developed. It only takes an hour, but given the boy’s fascination, it’s easy to understand why he is so impatient to look at those pictures.

The boy is clearly someone who is engaged with the world around him. He brings a microscope to the beach with him, along with a pair of binoculars, and his aim is to observe as much as possible. Initially, that means hobnobbing with a couple of crustaceans. But by developing the film inside the camera that washes up on shore, he has the chance to sneak a peek at the “mysterious fathoms below,” as the sailors put it in Little Mermaid‘s opening scene. And what he finds is fascinating indeed.

Wiesner’s illustrations are fun and detailed, especially once we actually get a look at the photos. It’s at this point that the book takes a turn for the fantastic, since the underwater scenes reveal fish and other undersea creatures acting in very surprising ways. For instance, on one page, several giant starfish do some stretching exercises as whales glide peacefully below them. Atop each of the starfish is a green landscape, suggesting that some of what humans take to be islands may, in fact, be alive. Which could explain a lot about LOST...

Each of the photos astounds the boy, but he lingers longest over a picture of an Asian girl holding a picture of a child who appears to be Scandinavian. With some help from his magnifying glass and microscope, he is able to see just how many children have ended up with this camera and make a guess as to how long it’s been traveling around the world. This aspect of the book reminds me of sending a message in a bottle. I’ve always wanted to do that, especially since I’ve read stories of those messages being found and of a long-distance friendship being formed. That’s sort of the idea here, but instead of worrying about getting in contact with the previous finder, the plan is to pay it forward, giving some other child somewhere the joy of finding something so unusual.

Wiesner received the Caldecott Medal for this wordless but wonderfully creative story. No doubt that’s one of the reasons it was included in 1001 Children’s Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up. The illustrations are beautiful, especially the underwater depictions. What’s more, it’s an engaging story. I can imagine it being transformed into a short film, much the way Raymond Briggs‘ The Snowman was. This, too, is a story of friendship, but of a different kind. Its main character becomes an exclusive member of a brotherhood of like-minded children spanning more than a century. I would think this could come across even more dynamically with some animation. But any child whose frame of mind is suitably similar to that of the boy who finds the camera could find Flotsam quite dynamic enough as is.

Winnie the Pooh and Pals Weather Storms and Confusion in Friends Forever

When I was a little tyke, my favorite Saturday morning cartoon was The New Adventures of Winnie the Pooh. The Disney-fied meanderings of this tubby little cubby always enchanted me, and my fondness for Pooh is one of the things friends and relatives most often remember about me, as my large collection of Pooh memorabilia attests. Several years ago, Disney released a number of small collections of episodes, one of which I recently rented. Growing Up With Winnie the Pooh: Friends Forever is a nice showcase of episodes typical of the series.

Goodbye Mr. Pooh begins with a miscommunication. Tigger bursts in on Pooh, who is about to dispose of some especially raggedy hunny pots. When he tries to explain this to Tigger, his bouncy friend misinterprets the situation and dashes off to announce that Pooh is moving away. The shocked woodlanders plan a going away party for the surprised but grateful Pooh, who then feels obliged to actually go away in accordance with the occasion. When he returns a short time later, he finds Eeyore has moved into his house, so he tries to make a go of it at Piglet's, but the friends discover that even the best of buddies can find it difficult to live together.

This episode has a fairly bittersweet feel to it. After all, how can there be a Hundred-Acre Wood that does not include Pooh? His confusion and his friends' grief at his departure are touching. Eeyore is a bit presumptuous moving into Pooh's house immediately after he leaves, but when your own house is constantly crumbling, I guess you have to seize those sorts of opportunities. It's also a little disheartening to see Piglet growing so aggravated with Pooh; he puts on a polite face, but some of Pooh's living habits clearly grate on him. It's another misunderstanding that brings Pooh back to where he belongs, with his friendship with Piglet unscathed.

Misinterpretations play into Where Oh Where Has My Piglet Gone as well. When Piglet comes over, Pooh, who can never keep track of anything, is busy searching for the hammer he borrowed from Rabbit. Pooh is so wrapped up in his search that he doesn't hear Piglet asking him if he'd like to hear him sing. He goes on berating himself for his absent-mindedness, which Piglet takes to be disapproval of his singing. Shamefaced, Piglet makes a break for it, leaving Pooh aghast that he has now managed to lose his best friend.

Pooh, Rabbit and Tigger organize a searching party but spend most of the evening losing each other in a series of simple but comical mishaps. Pooh is sweetly self-deprecating throughout the ordeal, while his friends grow increasingly panicky and nonsensical, and their dialogue starts to sound like an Abbott and Costello routine as they banter about just who has lost who. Meanwhile, Piglet goes to amusing lengths to avoid subjecting his friends to his voice while still obeying his own compulsion to sing.

Fish Out of Water is a strange episode in which the residents of the Hundred-Acre Wood find themselves under attack by a relentless barrage of migrating trout. They don't stick to the waterways in their travels; they move in a fluid stream, leaping across cliffs and tearing through living rooms. Everyone is inconvenienced by their presence, especially Gopher, whose tunnels they seem to prefer, prompting him to move in with a most irritated Rabbit, who proposes a plan to rid the Wood of these fishy intruders once and for all.

The fish are quite cute, and it's funny to watch them travel over the land as naturally as if it were water. This episode could introduce the concept of migrating fish to youngsters, though the only explanation as to why it happens comes in the form of Pooh telling Piglet that the trout are swimming upstream to do whatever it is that they do upstream. It's nice to see an episode focus on some of the Wood's natural residents, or more accurately visitors. The trout are just passing through, but they are a regular part of the landscape instead of transplants plunked down by Christopher Robin.

Speaking of Christopher, he gets the ball rolling in Pooh Skies. After the imaginative boy spends the afternoon describing to Pooh all the remarkable things he sees in the clouds, Pooh comes to think of that wispy realm as Christopher Robin's, and he becomes desperate to fix it after a hunny-finding attempt goes awry and he knocks a blue eggshell from a nest. Tigger tells Pooh that he's broken the sky, and the storm that turns the sky black moments later seems to confirm this idea. It's up to Pooh and Gopher to find a way up to the clouds and figure out how to stop all of Christopher's dreamscape from disappearing.

The stylized appearance of the cloud world is highly creative, with great billowing structures surrounding Gopher and Pooh as they navigate their way across the unusual surface. Their proactive approach to what they perceive as a terrible problem is impressive, and Gopher's engineering expertise is especially handy here. The basic plotline is similar to The Wishing Bear, which begins and ends with Pooh and Christopher Robin star-gazing rather than cloud-watching and involves Pooh believing he has broken an important element of the night sky. It also reminds me of a few other episodes in which characters' perceptions create a fantastical landscape for themselves.

Between episodes are short scenes featuring paper cut-outs of Pooh and his friends. These brief interludes have the look of a pop-up book and are a fun way to set the episodes apart from each other. I also like the theme song for the video series, though I still prefer the television theme, the wordless version of which plays over the end credits. I'm annoyed with Disney for releasing these episodes a few at a time, scattered across many videos and DVDs, but since I doubt they'll release entire seasons on DVD any time soon, Friends Forever is a fine collection for Pooh fans young and old.

11 Pairs of Outstanding Animal Movies

I am an animal lover, so movies about animals have always been among my favorites. Here are ten pairs of outstanding animal flicks - eh, make it 11 for good measure. There are just way too many good ones out there...

Two Brothers / The Bear - If you're looking for outstanding nature footage, either of these will do. Both are efforts by director Jean-Jacques Annaud attempting to instill in audiences a respect for nature. The Bear barely has any dialogue at all, leaving the bulk of the action to the bears, while the few humans in the film don't have much to say. Two Brothers involves a lot more people, but once again the main focus is on two creatures of the same species making their way in the world when their well-being is threatened by humans.

Old Yeller / The Yearling - Tearjerkers. Just about everybody must know by now how Old Yeller ends, and The Yearling isn't any better. But in the meantime, they are great stories about powerful friendships between boys and the animals they love, and about how life forces those boys to grow up too quickly.

Bambi / The Lion King - In the first, we get haunting hints of humans, while in the second, there are no traces of people to be found. The animation on both films is gorgeous, displaying all the glory of two very different natural landscapes and its inhabitants. Both feature fairly carefree young princes that lose a parent, drastically change their living arrangements, fall in love with childhood playmates and take on the leadership roles they were born to play in closing scenes that echo the films' dramatic openings.

The Shaggy Dog / The Incredible Mr. Limpet - Pure silliness about people turning into animals. The former has more ridiculous sight gags than you can toss a stick at, and its sequels are similarly ludicrous. I haven't seen the recent Tim Allen adaptation, but despite advances in special effects, I can't imagine it provided more laughs than the original. The latter, meanwhile, boasts Don Knotts, who's always good for a laugh, and Don Knotts as a fish is even better. I'm always a fan of half-animated, half-life action films, and this one is lots of fun.

Beethoven / 101 Dalmatians - I like the original 101 Dalmtians just fine, but the new version tickles my fancy even more. It's just the right amount of slapstick for a modern-day Disney movie - not quite as relentless as in years past, but still plenty of well-executed gags, not to mention some very sweet moments, all those adorable puppies, and Hugh Laurie. And Beethoven may have gone a little overboard with the sequels, but the first one is a blast, another throwback to classic Disney family films; Dean Jones even shows up as a not-so-competent villain. Grand fun.

The Rescuers Down Under / Cheetah - Down with poachers! One of these is animated and the other live action, but both feature valiant struggles to save endangered creatures. One is a bald eagle, the other a cheetah. The latter is an inspiring story of friendship and determination complete with wonderful footage of Africa, while the former features dazzling animation of the Australian outback and its dazzling array of creatures, not to mention one of my all-time favorite Disney villains, voiced by George C. Scott.

Andre / Free Willy - Both of these inspirational movies are about children who are outcasts in one way or another bonding with aquatic mammals. In each case, the animal is the child's closest friend, yet the time comes when they realize that it is in the best interests of the creature to depart. Both films thus come to a conclusion that is both exhilarating and sad.

Fly Away Home / March of the Penguins - Two very different types of migration, both very inspiring. The first is more of a traditional movie than the second, telling the true story of a girl and her father who use ultra-lights to help guide a flock of geese to their proper home at the changing of the seasons. The second is more a general story of survival that repeats itself again and again. It's a documentary, but that doesn't signal boring, since the cinematography is exceptional and Morgan Freeman's narration has all the right shading to help us see the beauty in these creatures forced to cope with such a forbidding environment.

The Incredible Journey / Homeward Bound - Same story, two different versions. The first is a lot closer to the real story, and the movements of the animals on their epic trek are compelling enough on their own that there's no need to imagine dialogue for the intrepid pets. But when they do talk, in the second film, it adds another, albeit not quite as realistic, dimension to the tale. The dynamics of the three very different personalities add to the fun and allow for some truly heartwarming moments.

Watership Down / The Rats of NIMH - Two fairly dark animated films about small animals - rabbits and rats - trying to start over after their lives are fundamentally altered by humans. The somber tone of each is alleviated by a raucous bird providing comic relief and a gorgeously soothing theme song.

Babe / Charlotte's Web - And we mustn't forget about the pigs. These two films feature beautiful cinematography and state-of-the-art computer animation techniques allowing real animals' mouths to speak in synch with human actors. Both movies are adaptations of classic children's books about porkers who evade the slaughterhouse thanks to a combination of sweet-naturedness and very good friends. The latter ends on a bittersweet note, but the former's conclusion is just plain satisfying, in no small part thanks to James Cromwell's outstanding portrayal of the taciturn farmer who sees the possibilities in an unassuming little pig.

Well, I think that's more than enough. I was supposed to list ten and instead I mentioned 22. And I've no doubt seen another 22 that are worth a look. What can I say? Movies and animals. They just go together so well...

Twitchy Tabby Faces His Fish Fixation

Cynthia Rylant's Henry and Mudge books are a popular series about a vivacious boy and his big, affectionate dog. She has another winning pair of characters in the Mr. Putter and Tabby books, which are about a middle-aged man who lives alone with his pet cat. In Mr. Putter and Tabby Feed the Fish, Mr. Putter decides to get a little more company in the form of three fish. He always enjoys watching them at the store, so owning them ought to be even better. Except that he didn't count on one thing: Tabby's fish problem.

This 40-page book is broken up into four easy-to-read sections: The Fish Store, Bat, Bat. Bat. Bat. and So Relaxed. They take us from the trip to the store on which Mr. Putter buys the fish to his decision to give them up due to Tabby's unrelenting infatuation with them. He tries to discourage the mesmerizing hold the fish have over Tabby by covering the bowl first with a pillowcase and then with a bucket - both of which seem like they ought to suffocate the fish, but they don't seem adversely affected - but his best efforts are to no avail. Tabby is addicted.

While I enjoy Sucie Stevenson's Henry and Mudge illustrations, I'm even fonder of the pictures here, which are by Arthur Howard. They seem less sketchy, with more attention to detail and rich, watery coloration. Mr. Putter is a delightful fellow, with chubby cheeks, a little mustache, a pair of glasses perched on his bulbous nose and tufts of hair sprouting out of his mostly bald head. Tabby, meanwhile, is a bundle of curiosity with white and orange stripes and large blue eyes with black pin-prick pupils. Throughout this book, he is on edge, his tail and whiskers a-quiver, his eyes filled with hypnotizing visions of golden, bug-eyed fish with fancy fins.

Though there are no children in this story, Tabby's fish-inspired antics and Mr. Putter's flummoxed response to them should get kids chuckling. Mr. Putter and Tabby are another dynamic Rylant duo, and adding a few fish into the mix only makes them more entertaining.

If You're Fishing For a Good Read, Give This Seuss Classic a Try

When it comes to making up critters, few authors can match Dr. Seuss. Rather, I should say few illustrators, since the genius of Seuss' sheer creativity comes out more in his unrestricted art than in his writing, which is often limited mostly to simple rhymes. There are, of course, complex plot-driven rhyming narratives that bear the Good Doctor's name - How the Grinch Stole Christmas, The Lorax, Horton Hatches the Egg - but much of his work is designed for especially young readers with small vocabularies and relies more on sparking the imagination than telling a cohesive story.

One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish is that sort of book. Read it straight through, and it doesn't make a whole lot of sense, but it doesn't have to. It's a series of snatches, a sampling of all the "funny things" he claims are "everywhere." The things in this book are vastly stranger than anything I have ever seen. But that's what makes this book so appealing. It's pure, silly imagination, complete with Seuss's trademark strings of rhyme, such as "What good to a Nook is a hook cook book?" and "If you wish to wish a wish, you may swish for fish with my Ish wish dish."

I was surprised, upon reading this book today for the first time in many years, how little it has to do with fish. We get a nice little listing in the first seven pages, rather like Bubba's shrimp litany in Forrest Gump, and after that I guess we're supposed to figure Seuss has said about all he wants to say about fish. There's only so much to be done with scales and fins.

As the book continues we are introduced to all sorts of bizarre beasts: the multi-humped Wump, which is a handy transportation provider; the ornery yellow fellow named Ned who is too tall to get a decent night's sleep; the enormous goat-like Zans, whose horn functions like a can opener; the Poodle-esque Yink that drinks pink ink all day; the tiny hopping Yop; the reindeer-like Gack whose antlers are grand for ring toss; the ominous-looking horned water creature that mysteriously shows up in the park. And this is only the tip of the iceberg.

I wasn't such a fan of Happy Birthday to You!, a similar Seuss book that is short on plot but long on creativity. But I get a kick out of this book, with all its excessive rhyming and zany creations. One Fish Two Fish Red Fish Blue Fish may not spend most of its time underwater, but it certainly makes a splash!

You'll Find Few Fish Flicks to Top Finding Nemo

Cinematically speaking, 2003 was all about one thing for me: the 12-month-long hiatus between The Two Towers and The Return of the King. Fortunately, there were a few films throughout the year that helped keep my mind off the wait. Second-hand Lions, featuring the formidable triple-threat of Haley Joel Osment, Robert Duvall and Michael Caine. From Justin to Kelly, by the sheer virtue of negative comparison. And then there was a little flick by the name of Finding Nemo…

I’m an unabashed Disney enthusiast, though I’ve tended to find the quality of their recent output largely unpredictable. I can no longer assume that I will enjoy most of the movies that bear the Disney label. Disney / Pixar, however, is another matter. This is a glorious collaboration that unfortunately is coming to an end after a string of masterpieces. When Toy Story first hit the theaters, computer animation as it was utilized in the film was a novel concept. By last year, audiences were fairly used to the medium, but Finding Nemo presented the most gloriously eye-catching animation yet. As one friend of mine put it, the film was visually very “pleasing.” All that ultramarine water through which the movie’s brightly-colored inhabitants traveled was just the ticket to cool off an audience wilting their way through a sweltering summer.

Finding Nemo focuses on two complementary quests: little clownfish Nemo’s (Alexander Gould) efforts to escape from the aquarium in the office of the dentist who swiped him from the ocean and his father Marlin’s (Albert Brooks) journey, aided and hindered by the forgetful blue tang Dory (Ellen Degeneres), to get his son back. Because Nemo is the lone survivor of a predatory attack that killed his hundreds of unborn siblings and his mother, he bears the distinguishing mark of an undersized fin. While this gives the neurotically protective Marlin another reason to fret about his son’s fragility, it only serves as an obstacle for Nemo to overcome.

After his first attempt to prove his courage landed him in the aquarium, Nemo must rely on his resourcefulness and his new friends to help get him out again. Among his colorful companions: Gill (Willem Dafoe), moorish idol with scars recalling his days out in the ocean; Gurgle (Austin Pendleton), a gramma obsessed with cleanliness; Peach (Allison Janney), a starfish who serves as tank lookout; Bubbles (Stephen Root), a yellow tang in love with the aquarium’s bubbles; Jacques (John Ranft), a shrimp who makes it his business to clean everything in the tank, including his companions; Bloat (Brad Garrett), a puffer fish who has a tendency to expand into a sphere when he’s stressed out; and Deb (Vicki Lewis), a damselfish who believes her reflection in the aquarium glass is actually a twin sister named Flo.

The tank is a pleasant enough place on the whole, but Nemo misses home. His desire to leave is lent urgency when the fish discover the dentist, a man who comes across as decent enough but dim-witted, announces his intention to present Nemo as a birthday present to his niece, who is notorious for shaking her previous pets to death. Led by Gill and aided by Nigel (Geoffrey Rush), a bumbling but magnanimous pelican willing to help any creature in need, as long as it isn’t a seagull, he plots a daring escape.

But the main storyline involves the quest of Marlin and Dory. Together, the wimpy clownfish and ever-bubbly tang encounter a number of frightening situations. They find themselves in the company of a group of sharks, led by the charming Bruce (Barry Humphries), who have difficulty abiding by their encouraging mantra of “Fish are friends, not food.” They are lured into the clutches of a grotesque bottom feeder. They must cross a stretch full of jellyfish after failing to follow the advice of a school of silver fish, whose leader is voiced by Pixar regular John Ratzenberger. They fall in with a group of turtles whose easy-going leader, Crush (Andrew Stanton), teaches Marlin something about letting go. They even make the useful acquaintance of a whale, thanks to Dory’s hitherto unknown linguistic talents. Their adventures are perilous, but there is always enough humor to balance out any overriding sense of danger. Degeneres is the standout cast member here; she makes Dory an incredibly likable and memorable character who provides most of the film’s biggest laughs. Her unlikely partnership with Marlin is very touching.

Finding Nemo broke box office records and became the most celebrated movie of the summer. The film lent itself especially well to the big screen, where its bright palette of colors could be best appreciated. But the story is just as charming and the animation just as superb on a television screen. While the adventure and colorful characters enthrall children, clever dialogue reels in the adults, making it a film to be celebrated and cherished by people of all ages. It’s just a shame the partnership is coming to an end…