When I went to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter earlier this year,
one of the beverages for sale was pumpkin juice. I didn’t try it,
preferring to stick with butterbeer; frankly, drinking pumpkin sounded a
bit gross to me. Nonetheless, it is probably the second-most famous
drink in the Harry Potter universe. When I came across Tasha Tudor’s Pumpkin Moonshine,
I thought the subject would be a similar drink, but with more of a
kick. It seemed an odd subject for a picture book, but that just
intrigued me all the more.
As I started to read, it further
surprised me that the character intending to make Pumpkin Moonshine was a
little girl visiting her grandparents. Was this really a story about a
pint-sized moonshiner? What sort of drunken revelry would follow?
By
the time I reached the end of the book, I realized that I had
misunderstood. This is not a story involving potent potables. Instead,
it is just about a child eager to make a jack-o-lantern. A quick Google
search seems to indicate that this terminology is an invention of
Tudor’s, or at least a very obscure name. Was she trying to celebrate an
old family tradition or be provocative with her title? There’s
certainly nothing else provocative about the book.
Tudor’s
dedication reads “a wee story for a very sweet wee person.” This is a
small square book with light orange trim forming a thick border around
each page. Each page on the left features a watercolor painting rendered
in muted tones, while the right-hand page includes a paragraph that
begins with the first letter in orange and set apart, large and in an
orange calligraphy box. The black ink sketches seen here are thoroughly
charming. None of the pages is very wordy; three sentences are the most
any one of them has, and in those cases, at least one of the sentences
is fairly short.
The main character, Sylvie Ann, is a cute
little girl who looks like a short-haired, bonneted Alice in Wonderland.
She is visiting her grandparents in Connecticut; Tudor doesn’t tell us
what year this is, but it seems pretty old-fashioned, and I would
estimate the date to be at some point in the 1800s. At one point she
says that Sylvie and the dog Wiggy “puff like steam engines.” The
landscape is bucolic and unspoiled, with just a few hand-built
structures dotting the farmland, and the spelling of the word Hallowe’en
further suggests an older setting.
This is a charming little
slice of life tale whose main event is the pumpkin Sylvie selects
rolling down a hill. Various types of livestock scatter, and Mr.
Hemmelskamp, an elderly neighbor who reminds me of the grandfather in
Heidi, gets knocked for a loop. It’s mildly comical, but the writing
style is pretty matter-of-fact. What’s more, after all the trouble she
goes to so she can “make” her Pumpkin Moonshine, she only empties the
pumpkin; her grandfather does the actual carving. Of course, that is
probably for the best; small children and sharp knives don’t make a
great combination.
This book was published in 1958 and feels older than that. Some children may find it too old-fashioned, but Pumpkin Moonshine offers an appealing peek at a Halloween celebration of yesteryear.
Monday, October 24, 2011
A Family Teams Up to Turn an Accident Into a Blessing in The Runaway Pumpkin
In Tasha Tudor’s 1958 book Pumpkin Moonshine,
a young girl selects a pumpkin to carve into a jack-o-lantern and then
chases it as it rolls down a hill, disrupting livestock and upsetting
property until it comes to a rest and her grandparents help her do
something fun with it. This is also the basic story in Kevin Lewis’s The Runaway Pumpkin, illustrated by S. D. Schindler.
I don’t suppose that Lewis was influenced by Tudor’s tale; after all, a pumpkin rolling down a hill is not a difficult image to come up with. Still, with the farmland, the grandparents and the mild destruction the pumpkin causes, there are definite similarities. However, this 2003 book has a more contemporary setting. Instead of one child, there are three, and all of them are in costume. Additionally, instead of prose, this story is told in verse.
As someone who has devoted a lot of time to trying to perfect my scansion, I can’t help noticing how little attention is paid to it in many children’s books. This one isn’t too bad; it’s a bit clunky in places, but for the most part, it reads pretty well. Lewis employs some useful repetition as he has each member of the family think of a different delicacy made by Granny when the pumpkin rolls by. This sets us up for the book’s cheerful conclusion. He also repeats a sonically satisfying series of adjectives describing the pumpkin as it rolls.
The sheer size of the pumpkin is likely to elicit giggles from young readers. The thing is really a monstrosity, though it is almost perfectly round. The way that Poppa stops the pumpkin in its tracks is quite clever. It would be nice if the kids were involved in the resolution of this problem, but the sense of the whole family pulling together is sweet. This is definitely a tale of family togetherness, and the costumes that each member of the family wears as they gather around the table for a cozy celebration add to the fun. I especially like the complicated insect costume that Grampa dons.
Schindler’s illustrations are in muted tones but are full of vivid detail. He provides a series of two-page spreads with the text printed over the paint in a playful font, and these paintings set us very firmly in autumn and also show how much trouble one pumpkin is capable of causing. I think my favorite illustration may be the one that shows Grampa on the ground, shaking his fist at the pumpkin that has just knocked him over, while white chickens scatter in a flurry of feathers.
The ordinary pumpkin in Pumpkin Moonshine stirs things up a bit, but this jumbo-sized would-be jack-o-lantern really makes a mess. This is a silly story with a warm thread of family giving it a heartening ending. Of the two, I think I give this one just a bit of an edge for both excitement and sentimentality. The pumpkin runs away, but great things happen when it stops.
I don’t suppose that Lewis was influenced by Tudor’s tale; after all, a pumpkin rolling down a hill is not a difficult image to come up with. Still, with the farmland, the grandparents and the mild destruction the pumpkin causes, there are definite similarities. However, this 2003 book has a more contemporary setting. Instead of one child, there are three, and all of them are in costume. Additionally, instead of prose, this story is told in verse.
As someone who has devoted a lot of time to trying to perfect my scansion, I can’t help noticing how little attention is paid to it in many children’s books. This one isn’t too bad; it’s a bit clunky in places, but for the most part, it reads pretty well. Lewis employs some useful repetition as he has each member of the family think of a different delicacy made by Granny when the pumpkin rolls by. This sets us up for the book’s cheerful conclusion. He also repeats a sonically satisfying series of adjectives describing the pumpkin as it rolls.
The sheer size of the pumpkin is likely to elicit giggles from young readers. The thing is really a monstrosity, though it is almost perfectly round. The way that Poppa stops the pumpkin in its tracks is quite clever. It would be nice if the kids were involved in the resolution of this problem, but the sense of the whole family pulling together is sweet. This is definitely a tale of family togetherness, and the costumes that each member of the family wears as they gather around the table for a cozy celebration add to the fun. I especially like the complicated insect costume that Grampa dons.
Schindler’s illustrations are in muted tones but are full of vivid detail. He provides a series of two-page spreads with the text printed over the paint in a playful font, and these paintings set us very firmly in autumn and also show how much trouble one pumpkin is capable of causing. I think my favorite illustration may be the one that shows Grampa on the ground, shaking his fist at the pumpkin that has just knocked him over, while white chickens scatter in a flurry of feathers.
The ordinary pumpkin in Pumpkin Moonshine stirs things up a bit, but this jumbo-sized would-be jack-o-lantern really makes a mess. This is a silly story with a warm thread of family giving it a heartening ending. Of the two, I think I give this one just a bit of an edge for both excitement and sentimentality. The pumpkin runs away, but great things happen when it stops.
Sunday, October 23, 2011
Judy Collins and Eric Buybaret Illustrate Intercultural Enchantment in When You Wish Upon a Star
Last year, I received a handsome picture book edition of Clement C. Moore’s A Visit From St. Nicholas - there called The Night Before Christmas
- accompanied by a three-track album recorded by Peter Paul and Mary. A
beautiful book and CD in its own right, it is especially significant
because it is the last recording Mary Travers ever made. That book,
illustrated by Eric Puybaret, is a part of a series of picture books
inspired by beloved songs, and I was excited to see that this month
marked the release of When You Wish Upon a Star, also illustrated by Puybaret but this time accompanied by a three-track CD by Judy Collins.
Collins, like Peter Paul and Mary, is something of a giant in the folk community, a Grammy-winning artist with a hauntingly beautiful voice and a history of devotion to various charitable causes. I probably know her best for her rendition of the beloved hymn Amazing Grace, first recorded in the 1970s and performed memorably as a character on the 1990s TV series Christy. Here, she sings three songs, each recorded specially for this book-and-CD set.
The first, naturally, is When You Wish Upon a Star, the Pinocchio theme that has become one of Disney’s most iconic songs. To gentle violin and piano backing, she sings with wistful clarity. It’s quite a lovely version, as is the third track, her take on the traditional slave song All the Pretty Little Horses, which fits in very nicely as it has to do with dreams and their fulfillment. There is a subtle undercurrent of sadness to the song, but it is not overpowering.
My favorite of the three, however, is the Collins original Other Side of My World. In this poignant song, she sings of childhood dreams cast aside then reclaimed and of friendship and love that bridges vast distances. This one particularly resonates with me, as some of the people I care about most deeply live so far away. Gorgeous. “I had my life on this side of the world, and you had your life on the other. Sometimes I’d wake from my sleep, and I would remember my promise. On the other side of my world, I knew that there was a grown-up child just like me. We might be as different as day and night, but we will meet, all right, and put our worlds together.”
Funnily enough, the words in the book and on the CD are not in perfect agreement. Collins, who speaks the first part before launching into the song proper, sings with all of her pronouns in proper agreement, whereas the book states, “When a star is born, they possess a gift or two…” And while it scans a bit better than “it possesses,” it makes the grammar geeks cringe involuntarily. The Other Side of My World fits wonderfully with the book because Puybaret chooses to give the surrealistic paintings an intercultural flavor. Several of the scenes remind me of It’s a Small World, another of Disney’s most iconic songs. These children come from a variety of different countries; none is referenced specifically – after all, the only words in the book, aside from the contributors’ notes, are the song lyrics – but the physical features and clothing of the children reflect their varied homelands.
The star itself is anthropomorphized as a beaming, sparkling ball of pale blue light, and when she first appears, she is surrounding by placidly smiling planets. Each illustration is a two-page spread full of stylized geometrical shapes and distinct colors. My favorite painting is probably the one that accompanies the words “If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme.” Seven wide-eyed children gaze out over a wonderland shown to them by an obliging fairy. As they gaze about in awe, we see horse-drawn carriages, trains traversing loopy tracks, gently rising hot air balloons and many other whimsical delights. I also love the final illustration, in which a dozen children soar through the air high above Earth. A boy from India flies a plane, a young African is dressed as a doctor, an Eskimo stands astride a pair of skis, an Asian girl rides a unicorn… It’s a wonderful representation of the different types of dreams that people have and an indication that these desires traverse cultural backgrounds.
When You Wish Upon a Star is a heartening song, and between Judy Collins and Eric Puybaret, this book makes it all the more beautiful. So peruse a copy of this book and get to wishing…
Collins, like Peter Paul and Mary, is something of a giant in the folk community, a Grammy-winning artist with a hauntingly beautiful voice and a history of devotion to various charitable causes. I probably know her best for her rendition of the beloved hymn Amazing Grace, first recorded in the 1970s and performed memorably as a character on the 1990s TV series Christy. Here, she sings three songs, each recorded specially for this book-and-CD set.
The first, naturally, is When You Wish Upon a Star, the Pinocchio theme that has become one of Disney’s most iconic songs. To gentle violin and piano backing, she sings with wistful clarity. It’s quite a lovely version, as is the third track, her take on the traditional slave song All the Pretty Little Horses, which fits in very nicely as it has to do with dreams and their fulfillment. There is a subtle undercurrent of sadness to the song, but it is not overpowering.
My favorite of the three, however, is the Collins original Other Side of My World. In this poignant song, she sings of childhood dreams cast aside then reclaimed and of friendship and love that bridges vast distances. This one particularly resonates with me, as some of the people I care about most deeply live so far away. Gorgeous. “I had my life on this side of the world, and you had your life on the other. Sometimes I’d wake from my sleep, and I would remember my promise. On the other side of my world, I knew that there was a grown-up child just like me. We might be as different as day and night, but we will meet, all right, and put our worlds together.”
Funnily enough, the words in the book and on the CD are not in perfect agreement. Collins, who speaks the first part before launching into the song proper, sings with all of her pronouns in proper agreement, whereas the book states, “When a star is born, they possess a gift or two…” And while it scans a bit better than “it possesses,” it makes the grammar geeks cringe involuntarily. The Other Side of My World fits wonderfully with the book because Puybaret chooses to give the surrealistic paintings an intercultural flavor. Several of the scenes remind me of It’s a Small World, another of Disney’s most iconic songs. These children come from a variety of different countries; none is referenced specifically – after all, the only words in the book, aside from the contributors’ notes, are the song lyrics – but the physical features and clothing of the children reflect their varied homelands.
The star itself is anthropomorphized as a beaming, sparkling ball of pale blue light, and when she first appears, she is surrounding by placidly smiling planets. Each illustration is a two-page spread full of stylized geometrical shapes and distinct colors. My favorite painting is probably the one that accompanies the words “If your heart is in your dream, no request is too extreme.” Seven wide-eyed children gaze out over a wonderland shown to them by an obliging fairy. As they gaze about in awe, we see horse-drawn carriages, trains traversing loopy tracks, gently rising hot air balloons and many other whimsical delights. I also love the final illustration, in which a dozen children soar through the air high above Earth. A boy from India flies a plane, a young African is dressed as a doctor, an Eskimo stands astride a pair of skis, an Asian girl rides a unicorn… It’s a wonderful representation of the different types of dreams that people have and an indication that these desires traverse cultural backgrounds.
When You Wish Upon a Star is a heartening song, and between Judy Collins and Eric Puybaret, this book makes it all the more beautiful. So peruse a copy of this book and get to wishing…
Saturday, October 22, 2011
The Commish Takes a Darker Turn in Season Three
This year, thanks to my friend Libbie, my parents and I have enjoyed reacquainting ourselves with the 1990s cop show The Commish,
starring Michael Chiklis as Tony Scali, a police commissioner in the
fictional New York town of Eastbridge. Tony is a personable guy in his
late 30s who’s a bit out of shape and overweight but won’t let that stop
him from getting down to the nitty gritty on cases. Meanwhile, despite
his rigorous schedule that often involves going out on calls in the
middle of the night, Tony makes time for his beloved wife Rachel
(Theresa Saldana) and son David (Kaj-Erik Eriksen), and in the third
season, he also has a new baby, Sarah, to occupy his attention.
Season three, which at this time is available only as part of a full-series boxed set or for download on iTunes, begins with a conflict reminding me of the recently concluded drama Friday Night Lights. Rachel is just as career-driven as Tony is, and at the end of the second season, she gets an out-of-town job offer she can’t bear to pass up. Tony, meanwhile, is unwilling to leave his job as commissioner, so they decide to try a commuter marriage, only seeing each other on the weekends. That’s how season three begins, and it’s a pretty miserable situation for them both, but in the process of trying to fix the family, Tony finds himself without a job and sleuthing on the side, much to the disapproval of the new commissioner. How will he manage a return to the job he loves so much?
Like season two, season three has two major side characters at the precinct: earnest Stan Kelly (Geoffrey Nauffts) and clever Cyd Madison (Melinda McGraw). In this season, we see how dedicated both of them are to their boss, and they both deal with major workplace challenges and unsettling romantic entanglements. While other officers move in and out of prominence, these two are always near the forefront. Curiously, street-smart Carmela’s last episode is the season two finale, and if there was a reason given for her absence, I missed it. While Cyd continues to be a strong supporting player, I miss Carmela’s no-nonsense presence.
As with previous seasons, the third includes a mix of the serious and the silly, though it seems to tip more heavily in favor of the somber this time around, particularly toward the end, which takes a major turn for the tragic. It delves into some heavy topics throughout the season. For instance, in one episode, a gay officer is forced to out himself in order to fill out a report that will provide crucial evidence on a case, and the rest of the department, particularly his longtime patrol partner, has a difficult time coming to grips with this revelation. In another, Tony tries to help an elderly Japanese restaurant owner and a shopkeeper who fought in World War II overcome their deep-seated prejudices to work together to bring down some vandals.
In this season, David’s first serious romantic relationship is tested by the revelation of the violent activities of his girlfriend’s father. Called Romeo and Juliet, this episode marks a major turning point for David, as it concludes with his bar mitzvah, an event to which the series had been building up for some time. Equally iconic are the final two episodes, which mark the conclusion of the story arc of one of the series’ longstanding characters.
Despite all the darkness in this third season, there is still room for levity as Tony works to solve the most puzzling unsolved mysteries in town. Most of these episodes can be taken out of order, but the really powerful ones will lose some of their punch if you haven’t lived with these characters for a while, so I still recommend starting with season one. If you do, you should find season three of The Commish well worth the wait.
Season three, which at this time is available only as part of a full-series boxed set or for download on iTunes, begins with a conflict reminding me of the recently concluded drama Friday Night Lights. Rachel is just as career-driven as Tony is, and at the end of the second season, she gets an out-of-town job offer she can’t bear to pass up. Tony, meanwhile, is unwilling to leave his job as commissioner, so they decide to try a commuter marriage, only seeing each other on the weekends. That’s how season three begins, and it’s a pretty miserable situation for them both, but in the process of trying to fix the family, Tony finds himself without a job and sleuthing on the side, much to the disapproval of the new commissioner. How will he manage a return to the job he loves so much?
Like season two, season three has two major side characters at the precinct: earnest Stan Kelly (Geoffrey Nauffts) and clever Cyd Madison (Melinda McGraw). In this season, we see how dedicated both of them are to their boss, and they both deal with major workplace challenges and unsettling romantic entanglements. While other officers move in and out of prominence, these two are always near the forefront. Curiously, street-smart Carmela’s last episode is the season two finale, and if there was a reason given for her absence, I missed it. While Cyd continues to be a strong supporting player, I miss Carmela’s no-nonsense presence.
As with previous seasons, the third includes a mix of the serious and the silly, though it seems to tip more heavily in favor of the somber this time around, particularly toward the end, which takes a major turn for the tragic. It delves into some heavy topics throughout the season. For instance, in one episode, a gay officer is forced to out himself in order to fill out a report that will provide crucial evidence on a case, and the rest of the department, particularly his longtime patrol partner, has a difficult time coming to grips with this revelation. In another, Tony tries to help an elderly Japanese restaurant owner and a shopkeeper who fought in World War II overcome their deep-seated prejudices to work together to bring down some vandals.
In this season, David’s first serious romantic relationship is tested by the revelation of the violent activities of his girlfriend’s father. Called Romeo and Juliet, this episode marks a major turning point for David, as it concludes with his bar mitzvah, an event to which the series had been building up for some time. Equally iconic are the final two episodes, which mark the conclusion of the story arc of one of the series’ longstanding characters.
Despite all the darkness in this third season, there is still room for levity as Tony works to solve the most puzzling unsolved mysteries in town. Most of these episodes can be taken out of order, but the really powerful ones will lose some of their punch if you haven’t lived with these characters for a while, so I still recommend starting with season one. If you do, you should find season three of The Commish well worth the wait.
Riders in the Sky Make Monsters, Inc. Musical With Scream Factory Favorites
I love the funny, heartwarming and wildly imaginative Pixar movie Monsters, Inc.,
but it’s not a movie I associate with Disney’s tradition of excellent
music. Sure, it’s got a fun theme song that plays over the credits, but
it’s not a musical. However, I now have more melodious associations with
this movie thanks to Scream Factory Favorites, a tie-in album featuring songs set in its unique world.
Riders in the Sky, the group who performed Woody’s Round-Up in Toy Story 2, received a Best Children’s Album Grammy for this album, which, despite the band’s distinctly Western slant, incorporates a variety of styles, including doo-wop, big band and reggae. Its key members include “Ranger Doug” Green on guitar, “Too Slim” Fred LaBour on bunkhouse bass, “Woody Paul” Chrisman on fiddle and “Joey the Cowpolka King” Miskulin on accordion, piano, banjo, FX and synthesizer. The four share vocal responsibilities and get some help from a variety of other musicians, including Josh Archibald on piano, John Gardener on percussion, Chris Leuzinger on guitar and ukulele, Jonathan Yudkin on violin, George Tidwell on trumpet, David Hoffner on synthesizer, Bob Mater on drums, Jimmy Capps on guitar, Stu Basore on steel guitar and Harry Stinson on vocals.
If I Didn’t Have You - This Randy Newman song, performed by John Goodman and Billy Crystal for the movie, gets the Western treatment, with fiddle and accordion coming together to remind me of some of the songs on the Disney cowboy songs collection Pardners. This is an ode to friendship and its power in our lives that here specifically applies to the bond between steady blue furball Sulley and one-eyed wisecracker Mike as they sing to each other. “You and me together – that’s how it always should be. One without the other don’t mean nothin’ to me…”
Doo-Wah Diddy Diddy (Mike’s Song) - This upbeat oldie gets a monster makeover as Mike sings of falling for Celia. The sound is pretty similar to the original version, but the lyrical alterations begin to become more frequent as the song progresses. While the first two verses scarcely change at all, this is definitely Mike’s song by the end. “I said Celia, shmoopsie-poo, I’m on my bended knee, singing Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo. Celia, sweetie pie, please marry me, singing Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo.”
I Only Have Eye for You - Coming right after that last one, I thought when I saw this title that it might be a direct parody of I Only Have Eyes for You, but aside from the basic thematic connection, this is an entirely distinct song from Mike’s perspective written by Green. There’s the rather incongruous pairing of brass instruments with yodeling, though the latter is not as pronounced as it is on the first track, but what mostly distinguishes this track is the unconventional list of things that Mike loves about Celia. Most gals would not consider these traits too flattering, but something tells me Celia is eating it up. “I only have eye for you. Your kisses taste like glue. Your snaky hair keeps waving in the moments when we’re kissing; are you whispering ‘I love you,’ or is it just your hairdo hissing?”
Monsters, Inc. March - LaBour has writing credit on this spooky-sounding song that reminds me a bit of Dumbo’s Pink Elephants on Parade and the Winnie-the-Pooh classic Heffalumps and Woozles. The factory workers band together on this one to enthusiastically promote their cause, and it’s easy to imagine them parading through town to share their message with all of Monstropolis. “We scare, scare, scare because we care, care, care. We’re Monsters, Incorporated.”
Monsters ABC’s - LaBour also wrote this one, which has a doo-woppy 1950s flavor to it. The ooh-ing chorus and snapping fingers add to the ambiance in what amounts to a musical version of a Monsters, Inc.-themed alphabet book. The rhyme is strong during the alphabet portion of the song, the rhythm not so much, but that adds to the humor in this longest track. Some of the letters stand for specific characters, some for scary noises, some for just generically unsettling things. Well, I don’t find geeks unsettling, but maybe that’s just me… A very cute take on the ABCs, and since they sing the alphabet through a couple of times with only the letters, if you listen to this one enough, it could just end up replacing the traditional Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star melody in your mind. “R is for Roz and Randall, too. S is for Sulley, he’s always true blue. T is for Trouble U Under your bed. V is Very scary. W Wazowski he’s mostly all head…”
Lullaby for Boo - This song by LaBour and Chrisman is unusual in that it is sung by Sonya Isaacs rather than a member of Riders in the Sky. This is a lovely, whispery song with guitar accompaniment that has a soothing quality to it. I like the comforting tone, though I’m not crazy about the chorus, since it seems to imply that she just dreamed up Sulley and the gang, and in the Monsters, Inc. world, they are more real to me than she is. Is this an indication that when she gets older, she is supposed to simply believe that “Kitty” was her imaginary friend who she outgrew? That thought makes me sad… “The monsters that we played with have all gone home again. They know the show must end; they’re only just pretend.”
If I Didn’t Have You - The Western flavor of the opening track is intensified by turning it into a pure instrumental, highlighting the fiddle and accordion. Even without the lyrics, this song has a very friendly feel to it.
It’s Our Job - This Miskulin song brings back the fiddle but also has a bit of a 1920s sound to it, especially at the beginning when the piano is most prominent. Like Monsters, Inc. March, this song is from the perspective of the factory workers ,who take pride in their strong work ethic when it comes to scaring tykes in order to generate energy. Lots of shrieks and goofy sound effects add to the fun of this one. “It’s our job to be frightful and scary. Some of us are all hairy; some of us have got horns and tails. We hide and wait ‘til you are finally sleepin’. That’s our cue to come creepin’ ‘cause it’s our job.”
Paperwork (Roz’s Song) - Green is the songwriter behind this Caribbean-styled tribute to paperwork that intersperses an upbeat chorus of guys with the droning dialogue of Roz, a tedious crank who would feel right at home in Office Space. Her voice is only slightly less obnoxious here than in the movie; you really don’t want this slug on your back. While the lyrics address children, warning them of the annoyances of adult bureaucracy, adults who have experienced the joy of drowning in extraneous forms will probably appreciate this one most. “When you grow up you’re gonna find just when things are going fine, someone will sneak up from behind and want to see your paperwork.”
Monsters’ Jubilee - Chrisman and Green collaborated on this square dance in which the dance caller announces himself as a member of Riders in the Sky. It’s the shortest track at well under two minutes, but the lively tone of this heavy-fiddle song, coupled with the specific motion instructions, make it highly interactive. “Put your right paw in the air. Hold it up and wave it there. Hop three times now one, two, three at the monsters’ jubilee.”
Under the Bed - This one by Green has a similar sound to Monsters, Inc. March, with brass instruments giving a sense of mingled suspense and revelry. The spooky laugh and the musical quote of an iconic series of creepy notes whose title escapes me demonstrates how much fun the monsters are having and the narrator isn’t. His straightforward delivery amuses me; he’s supposed to be in nursery school, but he’s most definitely a grown man, making his worried proclamations funnier a la Allan Sherman’s comedy classic Letter From Camp. “Under the bed I hear them slithering and slinking. Under the bed their chains are softly clinking. They’ve got arms that wave like tentacles; at the end are great big claws. And they’re drooling and they’re slobbering with great big jaws.”
The Perfect Roar (Sulley’s Song) - While this leisurely ballad by Chrisman and Archibald is not the longest song on the album, it is the most lyrically dense with its nine four-line verses detailing Sulley’s epic quest to find his own roar. A crackin’ good narrative song with a message of affirmation at the end, it’s made more fun by the steady stream of trumpet blasts and the growly voice of the singer. I’m surprised that there’s no acknowledgment of the tune, which, despite the plodding pace, is unmistakable for the lively kiddie folk song Do Your Ears Hang Low?, but in any case, they appropriate it well. “Yes, I found my perfect roar, just as every monster owns in different shapes and sizes, for each a different tone. And none of them could find it hidden high on any shelf. A monster has to find his perfect roar inside himself.”
Big High Wire Hop - This lively instrumental is heavy on the fiddle again also includes some fun bass and guitar. It serves as the background music for the whimsical Pixar short For the Birds, which ran before Monsters, Inc. in the theater. A fun way to wind down the album.
This is obviously an album geared toward kids, and the overall tone is pretty silly, but it’s really high-quality stuff that puts a smile on my face. The lyrics do a good job of capturing the personalities of the characters and the fun of this world, and from the impersonations to the varied instrumentation, it’s obvious that the tracks were put together with great affection. If you’re looking for some fun Disney novelty albums, Scream Factory Favorites is a great place to start.
Riders in the Sky, the group who performed Woody’s Round-Up in Toy Story 2, received a Best Children’s Album Grammy for this album, which, despite the band’s distinctly Western slant, incorporates a variety of styles, including doo-wop, big band and reggae. Its key members include “Ranger Doug” Green on guitar, “Too Slim” Fred LaBour on bunkhouse bass, “Woody Paul” Chrisman on fiddle and “Joey the Cowpolka King” Miskulin on accordion, piano, banjo, FX and synthesizer. The four share vocal responsibilities and get some help from a variety of other musicians, including Josh Archibald on piano, John Gardener on percussion, Chris Leuzinger on guitar and ukulele, Jonathan Yudkin on violin, George Tidwell on trumpet, David Hoffner on synthesizer, Bob Mater on drums, Jimmy Capps on guitar, Stu Basore on steel guitar and Harry Stinson on vocals.
If I Didn’t Have You - This Randy Newman song, performed by John Goodman and Billy Crystal for the movie, gets the Western treatment, with fiddle and accordion coming together to remind me of some of the songs on the Disney cowboy songs collection Pardners. This is an ode to friendship and its power in our lives that here specifically applies to the bond between steady blue furball Sulley and one-eyed wisecracker Mike as they sing to each other. “You and me together – that’s how it always should be. One without the other don’t mean nothin’ to me…”
Doo-Wah Diddy Diddy (Mike’s Song) - This upbeat oldie gets a monster makeover as Mike sings of falling for Celia. The sound is pretty similar to the original version, but the lyrical alterations begin to become more frequent as the song progresses. While the first two verses scarcely change at all, this is definitely Mike’s song by the end. “I said Celia, shmoopsie-poo, I’m on my bended knee, singing Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo. Celia, sweetie pie, please marry me, singing Doo Wah Diddy Diddy Dum Diddy Doo.”
I Only Have Eye for You - Coming right after that last one, I thought when I saw this title that it might be a direct parody of I Only Have Eyes for You, but aside from the basic thematic connection, this is an entirely distinct song from Mike’s perspective written by Green. There’s the rather incongruous pairing of brass instruments with yodeling, though the latter is not as pronounced as it is on the first track, but what mostly distinguishes this track is the unconventional list of things that Mike loves about Celia. Most gals would not consider these traits too flattering, but something tells me Celia is eating it up. “I only have eye for you. Your kisses taste like glue. Your snaky hair keeps waving in the moments when we’re kissing; are you whispering ‘I love you,’ or is it just your hairdo hissing?”
Monsters, Inc. March - LaBour has writing credit on this spooky-sounding song that reminds me a bit of Dumbo’s Pink Elephants on Parade and the Winnie-the-Pooh classic Heffalumps and Woozles. The factory workers band together on this one to enthusiastically promote their cause, and it’s easy to imagine them parading through town to share their message with all of Monstropolis. “We scare, scare, scare because we care, care, care. We’re Monsters, Incorporated.”
Monsters ABC’s - LaBour also wrote this one, which has a doo-woppy 1950s flavor to it. The ooh-ing chorus and snapping fingers add to the ambiance in what amounts to a musical version of a Monsters, Inc.-themed alphabet book. The rhyme is strong during the alphabet portion of the song, the rhythm not so much, but that adds to the humor in this longest track. Some of the letters stand for specific characters, some for scary noises, some for just generically unsettling things. Well, I don’t find geeks unsettling, but maybe that’s just me… A very cute take on the ABCs, and since they sing the alphabet through a couple of times with only the letters, if you listen to this one enough, it could just end up replacing the traditional Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star melody in your mind. “R is for Roz and Randall, too. S is for Sulley, he’s always true blue. T is for Trouble U Under your bed. V is Very scary. W Wazowski he’s mostly all head…”
Lullaby for Boo - This song by LaBour and Chrisman is unusual in that it is sung by Sonya Isaacs rather than a member of Riders in the Sky. This is a lovely, whispery song with guitar accompaniment that has a soothing quality to it. I like the comforting tone, though I’m not crazy about the chorus, since it seems to imply that she just dreamed up Sulley and the gang, and in the Monsters, Inc. world, they are more real to me than she is. Is this an indication that when she gets older, she is supposed to simply believe that “Kitty” was her imaginary friend who she outgrew? That thought makes me sad… “The monsters that we played with have all gone home again. They know the show must end; they’re only just pretend.”
If I Didn’t Have You - The Western flavor of the opening track is intensified by turning it into a pure instrumental, highlighting the fiddle and accordion. Even without the lyrics, this song has a very friendly feel to it.
It’s Our Job - This Miskulin song brings back the fiddle but also has a bit of a 1920s sound to it, especially at the beginning when the piano is most prominent. Like Monsters, Inc. March, this song is from the perspective of the factory workers ,who take pride in their strong work ethic when it comes to scaring tykes in order to generate energy. Lots of shrieks and goofy sound effects add to the fun of this one. “It’s our job to be frightful and scary. Some of us are all hairy; some of us have got horns and tails. We hide and wait ‘til you are finally sleepin’. That’s our cue to come creepin’ ‘cause it’s our job.”
Paperwork (Roz’s Song) - Green is the songwriter behind this Caribbean-styled tribute to paperwork that intersperses an upbeat chorus of guys with the droning dialogue of Roz, a tedious crank who would feel right at home in Office Space. Her voice is only slightly less obnoxious here than in the movie; you really don’t want this slug on your back. While the lyrics address children, warning them of the annoyances of adult bureaucracy, adults who have experienced the joy of drowning in extraneous forms will probably appreciate this one most. “When you grow up you’re gonna find just when things are going fine, someone will sneak up from behind and want to see your paperwork.”
Monsters’ Jubilee - Chrisman and Green collaborated on this square dance in which the dance caller announces himself as a member of Riders in the Sky. It’s the shortest track at well under two minutes, but the lively tone of this heavy-fiddle song, coupled with the specific motion instructions, make it highly interactive. “Put your right paw in the air. Hold it up and wave it there. Hop three times now one, two, three at the monsters’ jubilee.”
Under the Bed - This one by Green has a similar sound to Monsters, Inc. March, with brass instruments giving a sense of mingled suspense and revelry. The spooky laugh and the musical quote of an iconic series of creepy notes whose title escapes me demonstrates how much fun the monsters are having and the narrator isn’t. His straightforward delivery amuses me; he’s supposed to be in nursery school, but he’s most definitely a grown man, making his worried proclamations funnier a la Allan Sherman’s comedy classic Letter From Camp. “Under the bed I hear them slithering and slinking. Under the bed their chains are softly clinking. They’ve got arms that wave like tentacles; at the end are great big claws. And they’re drooling and they’re slobbering with great big jaws.”
The Perfect Roar (Sulley’s Song) - While this leisurely ballad by Chrisman and Archibald is not the longest song on the album, it is the most lyrically dense with its nine four-line verses detailing Sulley’s epic quest to find his own roar. A crackin’ good narrative song with a message of affirmation at the end, it’s made more fun by the steady stream of trumpet blasts and the growly voice of the singer. I’m surprised that there’s no acknowledgment of the tune, which, despite the plodding pace, is unmistakable for the lively kiddie folk song Do Your Ears Hang Low?, but in any case, they appropriate it well. “Yes, I found my perfect roar, just as every monster owns in different shapes and sizes, for each a different tone. And none of them could find it hidden high on any shelf. A monster has to find his perfect roar inside himself.”
Big High Wire Hop - This lively instrumental is heavy on the fiddle again also includes some fun bass and guitar. It serves as the background music for the whimsical Pixar short For the Birds, which ran before Monsters, Inc. in the theater. A fun way to wind down the album.
This is obviously an album geared toward kids, and the overall tone is pretty silly, but it’s really high-quality stuff that puts a smile on my face. The lyrics do a good job of capturing the personalities of the characters and the fun of this world, and from the impersonations to the varied instrumentation, it’s obvious that the tracks were put together with great affection. If you’re looking for some fun Disney novelty albums, Scream Factory Favorites is a great place to start.
Friday, October 21, 2011
Johnny Five Teams Up With Ben in Short Circuit 2
One of my all-time favorite movies is Short Circuit, the 1986
comedy about a government robot that magically becomes sentient during a
thunderstorm. I’ve watched it countless times, enjoying the improbable
situations and the vivid characters, most notably Number Five, the
wide-eyed robot with an innocent outlook and a strong will to live.
Recently, I rewatched Short Circuit 2, directed by Kenneth
Johnson, and while my attachment to the sequel is not nearly so strong,
it’s still a cute movie featuring the irrepressible robot who calls
himself Johnny Five.
In this movie, Newton Crosby, the reclusive scientist who helped create Number Five, has moved to Montana with Stephanie Speck, the batty animal lover with whom the robot bonded after escaping the NOVA Robotics facility. Meanwhile, Newton’s partner, Ben (whose last name mysteriously changes from Jabituya in the first movie to Jahrvi in this), has moved to the big city to make a go of it selling tiny robot replicas. Unfortunately, mass-production is not an option with his meager resources, but when he writes to Newton and Stephanie to tell them of his troubles, they send Johnny Five his way.
In this movie, Johnny (Tim Blaney) continues his journey of self-awareness. He is considerably more well-spoken here since he’s had months to soak up all sorts of input; this makes him easier to understand but also a tad less distinctive. Still, he retains his insatiable curiosity about the world as well as his idealistic streak. All he wants is to be well-educated and respected as a genuine person. While Ben tries to keep him cooped up in the warehouse where he is speedily constructing miniature robots, Johnny soon finds his way outside and discovers that the city is a pretty cold place for a robot. If people aren’t screaming in terror or shooting him nasty looks, they’re taking advantage of his super skills and naivety. Will he ever be able to enjoy the life of an actual person?
While Johnny searches for himself, Ben is in the process of becoming an American citizen, which doesn’t make a lot of sense because in the first movie he said he was from Bakersfield, California and that his ancestors were from Pittsburgh. What’s more, he was working in a high-security government facility; would he really have been able to get such a job without being a citizen? Still, because Ben’s syntax is so ridiculous and his naivety level is almost as high as Johnny’s, it’s easy to roll with this idea even though there seems to be a continuity gap.
Additionally, while I never really noticed this until my most recent viewing, half the stuff Ben says in the first movie comes out a double entendre. The idea is that he has no idea what he’s saying, but it starts to feel like a lot of Freudian slips for a scientist who would really like a little one-on-one time with a woman. However, in the sequel, while he continues to say some pretty strange stuff, the innuendo is almost absent. While he is very lovable in the original film, he’s even sweeter here, and he just seems generally more innocent.
So innocent that he can’t see that street vendor Fred (Michael McKean), who gets him his first big sale, has the heart of a con artist. So innocent that he gets completely tongue-tied when Sandy (Cynthia Gibb), the eager young buyer for a major toy company, comes anywhere near him. Can this man whose mastery of English is so incomplete successfully pass his citizenship test? Can he avoid being taken in by shysters? And does he have any chance of winning the heart of the woman he finds so irresistible?
There’s a bit of crude language in this movie, particularly from a gang of street thugs who enlist Johnny’s aid in ripping off some cars – though Ben actually chides Johnny for repeating their off-color slogan, which made me smile. The plot is more complicated than in the first film, which is so beautifully simple. Here, we’ve got Johnny embarking on a journey of self-discovery; Ben working to become a citizen and woo Sandy; Sandy attempting to prove herself to her ornery boss; Fred trying to make a quick buck but unwittingly coming under the influence of Ben and Johnny’s noble spirits; and a bunch of low-down dirty jewel thieves doing their best to make off with several million dollars’ worth of diamonds hidden in a vault near Ben’s warehouse.
It’s a lot more involved than Robot Comes Alive, Government Tries to Capture Robot, Girl Shields Robot, and not necessarily for the better. With the big-city setting, there’s usually a lot of commotion, and it can be harder to really connect with the characters here. Additionally, some of the scenes are just plain absurd, and the climax feels even more violent than the first because the brutality is more personal. Besides that, Johnny’s vendetta toward the end of the film seems a bit at odds with his peaceful approach to life.
Still, there’s a lot to like here, particularly in the interaction among the four main characters. Three years ago, I was thrilled to see Stevens resurface on LOST in a very different sort of role, so it was fun to return to this and hear him adopt that goofy pseudo-Indian accent again. He’s such a plucky, upbeat guy that you really want him to succeed. Also, as someone who understands the way that shared references can strengthen bonds between people, I absolutely love how he uses the melodies of oldies to secretly communicate with Sandy from a distance when he is in distress – especially since the only LOST episode to heavily feature Stevens involves rigging up a phone so one man can make a life-saving call to his girlfriend.
On the back of the box our video came in, a blurb indicates that Siskel and Ebert thought this was even better than the original. I would beg to differ. However, if you loved Johnny Five and Ben the first time around, you’re likely to find plenty of entertainment value in Short Circuit 2.
In this movie, Newton Crosby, the reclusive scientist who helped create Number Five, has moved to Montana with Stephanie Speck, the batty animal lover with whom the robot bonded after escaping the NOVA Robotics facility. Meanwhile, Newton’s partner, Ben (whose last name mysteriously changes from Jabituya in the first movie to Jahrvi in this), has moved to the big city to make a go of it selling tiny robot replicas. Unfortunately, mass-production is not an option with his meager resources, but when he writes to Newton and Stephanie to tell them of his troubles, they send Johnny Five his way.
In this movie, Johnny (Tim Blaney) continues his journey of self-awareness. He is considerably more well-spoken here since he’s had months to soak up all sorts of input; this makes him easier to understand but also a tad less distinctive. Still, he retains his insatiable curiosity about the world as well as his idealistic streak. All he wants is to be well-educated and respected as a genuine person. While Ben tries to keep him cooped up in the warehouse where he is speedily constructing miniature robots, Johnny soon finds his way outside and discovers that the city is a pretty cold place for a robot. If people aren’t screaming in terror or shooting him nasty looks, they’re taking advantage of his super skills and naivety. Will he ever be able to enjoy the life of an actual person?
While Johnny searches for himself, Ben is in the process of becoming an American citizen, which doesn’t make a lot of sense because in the first movie he said he was from Bakersfield, California and that his ancestors were from Pittsburgh. What’s more, he was working in a high-security government facility; would he really have been able to get such a job without being a citizen? Still, because Ben’s syntax is so ridiculous and his naivety level is almost as high as Johnny’s, it’s easy to roll with this idea even though there seems to be a continuity gap.
Additionally, while I never really noticed this until my most recent viewing, half the stuff Ben says in the first movie comes out a double entendre. The idea is that he has no idea what he’s saying, but it starts to feel like a lot of Freudian slips for a scientist who would really like a little one-on-one time with a woman. However, in the sequel, while he continues to say some pretty strange stuff, the innuendo is almost absent. While he is very lovable in the original film, he’s even sweeter here, and he just seems generally more innocent.
So innocent that he can’t see that street vendor Fred (Michael McKean), who gets him his first big sale, has the heart of a con artist. So innocent that he gets completely tongue-tied when Sandy (Cynthia Gibb), the eager young buyer for a major toy company, comes anywhere near him. Can this man whose mastery of English is so incomplete successfully pass his citizenship test? Can he avoid being taken in by shysters? And does he have any chance of winning the heart of the woman he finds so irresistible?
There’s a bit of crude language in this movie, particularly from a gang of street thugs who enlist Johnny’s aid in ripping off some cars – though Ben actually chides Johnny for repeating their off-color slogan, which made me smile. The plot is more complicated than in the first film, which is so beautifully simple. Here, we’ve got Johnny embarking on a journey of self-discovery; Ben working to become a citizen and woo Sandy; Sandy attempting to prove herself to her ornery boss; Fred trying to make a quick buck but unwittingly coming under the influence of Ben and Johnny’s noble spirits; and a bunch of low-down dirty jewel thieves doing their best to make off with several million dollars’ worth of diamonds hidden in a vault near Ben’s warehouse.
It’s a lot more involved than Robot Comes Alive, Government Tries to Capture Robot, Girl Shields Robot, and not necessarily for the better. With the big-city setting, there’s usually a lot of commotion, and it can be harder to really connect with the characters here. Additionally, some of the scenes are just plain absurd, and the climax feels even more violent than the first because the brutality is more personal. Besides that, Johnny’s vendetta toward the end of the film seems a bit at odds with his peaceful approach to life.
Still, there’s a lot to like here, particularly in the interaction among the four main characters. Three years ago, I was thrilled to see Stevens resurface on LOST in a very different sort of role, so it was fun to return to this and hear him adopt that goofy pseudo-Indian accent again. He’s such a plucky, upbeat guy that you really want him to succeed. Also, as someone who understands the way that shared references can strengthen bonds between people, I absolutely love how he uses the melodies of oldies to secretly communicate with Sandy from a distance when he is in distress – especially since the only LOST episode to heavily feature Stevens involves rigging up a phone so one man can make a life-saving call to his girlfriend.
On the back of the box our video came in, a blurb indicates that Siskel and Ebert thought this was even better than the original. I would beg to differ. However, if you loved Johnny Five and Ben the first time around, you’re likely to find plenty of entertainment value in Short Circuit 2.
Celebrating Mary Blair's Centennial With Walt Disney's Peter Pan
Today would have been the hundredth birthday of Mary Blair, one of
Disney’s most celebrated artists. Her many contributions to the company
include helping to design the figures for the ride it’s a small world and the characters for the films Cinderella, Alice in Wonderland and Peter Pan.
In recent years, Disney has released lavish picture book editions of
each of those three stories written by prominent children’s book authors
and illustrated with concept art by Blair. In light of this milestone, I
picked up Peter Pan, hoping to get lost in the magic.
It’s a rather curious thing that while I’ve always been drawn to the character of Peter Pan, strongly resonating with his reluctance to grow up, the Disney version of J. M. Barrie’s tale ranks pretty low in my hierarchy of the company’s animated classics. Aside from the exhilarating You Can Fly sequence, I tend to prefer the made-for-TV Mary Martin version, though part of my problem may be that I haven’t seen the Disney movie in years. Reading this book, I realized there are whole segments of which I have no memory, including the entire interlude with the seductive mermaids. I really ought to watch it again soon. In the meantime, I found myself transported by the enchantment of Blair’s paintings and the wry storyteller quality of the writing by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, who have co-written several intermediate novels about Peter and his friends.
This is a handsome full-sized picture book just over 50 pages in length. It contains 29 of Blair’s paintings, most of which take up one full page and spill over onto the opposite page about a fifth of the way. The text never is printed over top of the painting. Instead, it rests against a white background sometimes augmented by a simple stylized silhouette of a shape such as a skull or the rigging of a pirate ship. These designs are next to or below the words but never directly behind them, giving the book a very clean and easy-to-read appearance.
The print is fairly large, and on most pages, several words are printed in a bigger font and a different color. For instance, on one page, the word “nasty” – referring to a plan concocted by the nefarious Captain Hook – is printed in red; on another, “Indian Chief” is in blue. Additionally, the words are laid out in such a way that it resembles free verse poetry, though the narrative style is not as poetic as Cynthia Rylant’s in the comparable Cinderella storybook.
While I’ve never read the Barry-Pearson books – an oversight I’ve been meaning to correct – I am familiar with Barry from his humor columns. At his best, he’s left me in stitches, so I was curious to hear his narrative voice here. Of course, as this is a collaborative effort, I’m not entirely sure who wrote what, but in any case, the humor is present but nowhere near the level of outright wackiness that marks much of Barry’s writing. The subtle wit works well, not pulling us out of the story but every once in a while winking at the audience before moving on to the next phase of the adventure. My two favorite instances of this are as follows.
“The leader of the pirates was a particularly nasty man known as Captain Hook. He was called that because he had a hook in place of one of his hands. His first mate was a man known as Smee. He was called that because he looked like a Smee.”
“Unfortunately, Tink was a jealous sort of fairy. She did not care for Wendy. So she flew ahead and told the Lost Boys to shoot Wendy down with their slingshots. Being boys, they thought this was a fine idea.”
Never Land is a dangerous place, especially for Peter’s special guest Wendy, since those who wish him harm capture her to lure Peter in and those who want Peter all to themselves keep attempting to inflict bodily injury on her to get her out of the way. There’s virtually no dialogue in the book; Peter only speaks a couple of times, and he doesn’t say much, and frankly, that makes him easier to take here. As much fun as he is, Peter is a rather arrogant young man, and all his boasting can get a bit tiresome. The narrative style doesn’t allow us to get too close to the characters (many of whom are omitted or not specifically named), so when it ends, I’m not left with the sense of malaise I usually get when Wendy returns to London to resume the mundane course of ordinary life and Peter flies off to his eternal childhood, soon to forget her almost entirely. “This story has happened before, and it will happen again,” our narrators tell us, and somehow, that seems okay.
While I enjoy the writing very much, the illustrations seem to have been the main purpose for this book, and they are wonderful. Culled from the Disney archives and the private collection of Howard Lowery, they are richly imaginative, with the emphasis on this remarkable world rather than the characters that populate it. Most of the paintings keep Peter, Wendy and others at arm’s length; rarely are we allowed a glimpse of any significant facial features, so their emotions remain largely hidden. Instead, we see them against magnificent backdrops saturated with color. Our first glimpse of Never Land allows us to see the entire island. It seems to exist in a space outside of time; stars swirl around the verdant expanse as the purplish mist rises off the mountains and the pirate ship makes for the shore through waters reflecting the pink of a blossoming sunrise.
While some paintings seem to incorporate practically every hue in the palette, others are almost monochromatic. The two-page spread in the middle of the book in which the boys march along the beach toward the Indian settlement atop a high plateau is sepia but for the pale yellow sun and the red of the cliffside rock. Several of the paintings depict nighttime scenes and are so dark that it’s a struggle to pick out details. That’s not really the case, though, in my favorite nighttime painting, a depiction of the Lost Boys’ multi-level underground lair, which is lit by several candles. It’s a fairly simple structure, but it looks absolutely glorious.
The pictures that do give us close-ups of the characters are revealing. John leads with gusto, shaking his umbrella as he shouts a command to the other boys, whose reaction is ambiguous because they are so shrouded in shadow. Peter looks cocky as can be as he stands amongst the adoring mermaids but softly perplexed as he holds a dying Tink in his hands after she tries to save him from Hook’s latest evil plot. Hook, too, has his moment, with just a wide grin and his huge hooked nose visible under his plumed red hat as he contemplates Peter’s demise.
It’s fascinating to peruse these paintings and ponder the progression from these to what we saw in the movie. Blair’s artistry is immediately apparent; it’s little wonder that this woman is so highly regarded. If you want to familiarize yourself with her distinctive style and get a sense for how Disney characters and settings are crafted, this beautiful edition of Peter Pan will set you on the right course.
It’s a rather curious thing that while I’ve always been drawn to the character of Peter Pan, strongly resonating with his reluctance to grow up, the Disney version of J. M. Barrie’s tale ranks pretty low in my hierarchy of the company’s animated classics. Aside from the exhilarating You Can Fly sequence, I tend to prefer the made-for-TV Mary Martin version, though part of my problem may be that I haven’t seen the Disney movie in years. Reading this book, I realized there are whole segments of which I have no memory, including the entire interlude with the seductive mermaids. I really ought to watch it again soon. In the meantime, I found myself transported by the enchantment of Blair’s paintings and the wry storyteller quality of the writing by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson, who have co-written several intermediate novels about Peter and his friends.
This is a handsome full-sized picture book just over 50 pages in length. It contains 29 of Blair’s paintings, most of which take up one full page and spill over onto the opposite page about a fifth of the way. The text never is printed over top of the painting. Instead, it rests against a white background sometimes augmented by a simple stylized silhouette of a shape such as a skull or the rigging of a pirate ship. These designs are next to or below the words but never directly behind them, giving the book a very clean and easy-to-read appearance.
The print is fairly large, and on most pages, several words are printed in a bigger font and a different color. For instance, on one page, the word “nasty” – referring to a plan concocted by the nefarious Captain Hook – is printed in red; on another, “Indian Chief” is in blue. Additionally, the words are laid out in such a way that it resembles free verse poetry, though the narrative style is not as poetic as Cynthia Rylant’s in the comparable Cinderella storybook.
While I’ve never read the Barry-Pearson books – an oversight I’ve been meaning to correct – I am familiar with Barry from his humor columns. At his best, he’s left me in stitches, so I was curious to hear his narrative voice here. Of course, as this is a collaborative effort, I’m not entirely sure who wrote what, but in any case, the humor is present but nowhere near the level of outright wackiness that marks much of Barry’s writing. The subtle wit works well, not pulling us out of the story but every once in a while winking at the audience before moving on to the next phase of the adventure. My two favorite instances of this are as follows.
“The leader of the pirates was a particularly nasty man known as Captain Hook. He was called that because he had a hook in place of one of his hands. His first mate was a man known as Smee. He was called that because he looked like a Smee.”
“Unfortunately, Tink was a jealous sort of fairy. She did not care for Wendy. So she flew ahead and told the Lost Boys to shoot Wendy down with their slingshots. Being boys, they thought this was a fine idea.”
Never Land is a dangerous place, especially for Peter’s special guest Wendy, since those who wish him harm capture her to lure Peter in and those who want Peter all to themselves keep attempting to inflict bodily injury on her to get her out of the way. There’s virtually no dialogue in the book; Peter only speaks a couple of times, and he doesn’t say much, and frankly, that makes him easier to take here. As much fun as he is, Peter is a rather arrogant young man, and all his boasting can get a bit tiresome. The narrative style doesn’t allow us to get too close to the characters (many of whom are omitted or not specifically named), so when it ends, I’m not left with the sense of malaise I usually get when Wendy returns to London to resume the mundane course of ordinary life and Peter flies off to his eternal childhood, soon to forget her almost entirely. “This story has happened before, and it will happen again,” our narrators tell us, and somehow, that seems okay.
While I enjoy the writing very much, the illustrations seem to have been the main purpose for this book, and they are wonderful. Culled from the Disney archives and the private collection of Howard Lowery, they are richly imaginative, with the emphasis on this remarkable world rather than the characters that populate it. Most of the paintings keep Peter, Wendy and others at arm’s length; rarely are we allowed a glimpse of any significant facial features, so their emotions remain largely hidden. Instead, we see them against magnificent backdrops saturated with color. Our first glimpse of Never Land allows us to see the entire island. It seems to exist in a space outside of time; stars swirl around the verdant expanse as the purplish mist rises off the mountains and the pirate ship makes for the shore through waters reflecting the pink of a blossoming sunrise.
While some paintings seem to incorporate practically every hue in the palette, others are almost monochromatic. The two-page spread in the middle of the book in which the boys march along the beach toward the Indian settlement atop a high plateau is sepia but for the pale yellow sun and the red of the cliffside rock. Several of the paintings depict nighttime scenes and are so dark that it’s a struggle to pick out details. That’s not really the case, though, in my favorite nighttime painting, a depiction of the Lost Boys’ multi-level underground lair, which is lit by several candles. It’s a fairly simple structure, but it looks absolutely glorious.
The pictures that do give us close-ups of the characters are revealing. John leads with gusto, shaking his umbrella as he shouts a command to the other boys, whose reaction is ambiguous because they are so shrouded in shadow. Peter looks cocky as can be as he stands amongst the adoring mermaids but softly perplexed as he holds a dying Tink in his hands after she tries to save him from Hook’s latest evil plot. Hook, too, has his moment, with just a wide grin and his huge hooked nose visible under his plumed red hat as he contemplates Peter’s demise.
It’s fascinating to peruse these paintings and ponder the progression from these to what we saw in the movie. Blair’s artistry is immediately apparent; it’s little wonder that this woman is so highly regarded. If you want to familiarize yourself with her distinctive style and get a sense for how Disney characters and settings are crafted, this beautiful edition of Peter Pan will set you on the right course.
Thursday, October 20, 2011
Disney Princesses Celebrate Autumn in A Fairy-Tale Fall
Autumn is an exciting time of year, especially if you happen to live in a
place with very distinct seasons. In Pennsylvania, it means thousands
of leaves painting the countryside with crimson and gold before falling
to the ground to crackle underfoot. It means bundling up in sweatshirts
and jackets to enjoy the fall sunshine. It means fresh produce,
horse-drawn hayrides and lots and lots of pumpkins for baking and
carving. These aspects of the season all come into play in A Fairy-Tale Fall, a level two Step Into Reading book focusing on the Disney Princesses.
At the time this book was published in 2010, there were nine heroines with the official Disney Princess designation. Of these, Snow White, Belle, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel, Tiana and Cinderella make an appearance, each being the focus of four pages – except Cinderella, whose section is slightly elongated to five. The only ones missing are Mulan and Pocahontas. While this book delves into many aspects of this time of year, it covers some of the same territory as Sweet and Spooky Halloween, another recently published Disney Princesses book. Several of the sections involve dressing up, carving jack-o-lanterns and distributing tasty treats.
The book, written by Apple Jordan and illustrated by Francesco Lagramandi, was designed for children ranging from about four to seven years old who need a little help reading. Like other books at this Step Into Reading level, it features simple stories and vocabulary and short sentences. Actually, “stories” is a bit of a stretch; it’s more a series of descriptions. Still, there is a story-ish quality to it, especially since we are seeing these familiar fairy tale characters in their very distinct settings. Not only do we get each of the seven princesses above, we also see many of the supporting characters from the movies in which they first appeared.
The Snow White pages depict a costume party at the dwarfs’ cottage attended by Snow White, her prince and all seven dwarfs. The costumes on the dwarfs are very cute and fitting for their personalities. For instance, ornery Grumpy is a growling bear, while shy Bashful is a ghost, entirely covered by a white sheet with holes for eyes. My favorite costume is Sleepy’s, as he dresses as a donkey who looks very much like gloomy gray Eeyore. While no other section features such elaborate costumes, the merfolk and their friends hold a grand masquerade, and so does Cinderella after making adorable costumes for Jaq, Gus and the other mice.
Aurora – here referred to as Sleeping Beauty – basks in the beauty of the autumnal woodland and shares a feast with her forest friends. Jasmine and Aladdin give goodies away to the children of Agrabah, and Belle bakes pumpkin pie for the Beast and his enchanted staff. Meanwhile, Tiana and Naveen ride a festive float through a parade. Some of the celebrations are more lavish than others, but all look like a lot of fun.
The book’s illustrations are excellent and full of color and detail, with all but a couple of them being two-page spreads. I love the ones that feature several different characters at once, whether animals or humans; there’s so much to look at on these pages that it’s well worth lingering a moment or two beyond what it will take to read. Most pages have one or two sentences, though there is the occasional three-sentence page. These are all quite short, however, and Jordan uses plenty of repetition to make things easier for unsteady readers.
Although this book was created by a different writer-artist team than Sweet and Spooky Halloween, the similarities between the two are sometimes striking. The most obvious shared image is Cinderella and the prince riding off in a pumpkin-shaped carriage, with the scenes of the Atlantica masquerade also suggesting that they might have been going for some consistency between the two books. Another similarity is that Ariel and Belle are not yet married, while it would appear that the other princesses are, though it’s not entirely clear with Jasmine and Aurora, whose appellation of Sleeping Beauty adds to the ambiguity.
These two books would make good companions for each other, but if you’re only going to get one, I’d go with this, as there are more princesses and more fall activities in the mix. The distribution of princesses is also almost perfectly balanced, unlike in Sweet and Spooky Halloween, and giving each princess her own space makes it feel more organized. A great little book for young Disney Princess enthusiasts, A Fairy-Tale Fall offers a chance to see terrific characters interact in a charming fall setting.
At the time this book was published in 2010, there were nine heroines with the official Disney Princess designation. Of these, Snow White, Belle, Aurora, Jasmine, Ariel, Tiana and Cinderella make an appearance, each being the focus of four pages – except Cinderella, whose section is slightly elongated to five. The only ones missing are Mulan and Pocahontas. While this book delves into many aspects of this time of year, it covers some of the same territory as Sweet and Spooky Halloween, another recently published Disney Princesses book. Several of the sections involve dressing up, carving jack-o-lanterns and distributing tasty treats.
The book, written by Apple Jordan and illustrated by Francesco Lagramandi, was designed for children ranging from about four to seven years old who need a little help reading. Like other books at this Step Into Reading level, it features simple stories and vocabulary and short sentences. Actually, “stories” is a bit of a stretch; it’s more a series of descriptions. Still, there is a story-ish quality to it, especially since we are seeing these familiar fairy tale characters in their very distinct settings. Not only do we get each of the seven princesses above, we also see many of the supporting characters from the movies in which they first appeared.
The Snow White pages depict a costume party at the dwarfs’ cottage attended by Snow White, her prince and all seven dwarfs. The costumes on the dwarfs are very cute and fitting for their personalities. For instance, ornery Grumpy is a growling bear, while shy Bashful is a ghost, entirely covered by a white sheet with holes for eyes. My favorite costume is Sleepy’s, as he dresses as a donkey who looks very much like gloomy gray Eeyore. While no other section features such elaborate costumes, the merfolk and their friends hold a grand masquerade, and so does Cinderella after making adorable costumes for Jaq, Gus and the other mice.
Aurora – here referred to as Sleeping Beauty – basks in the beauty of the autumnal woodland and shares a feast with her forest friends. Jasmine and Aladdin give goodies away to the children of Agrabah, and Belle bakes pumpkin pie for the Beast and his enchanted staff. Meanwhile, Tiana and Naveen ride a festive float through a parade. Some of the celebrations are more lavish than others, but all look like a lot of fun.
The book’s illustrations are excellent and full of color and detail, with all but a couple of them being two-page spreads. I love the ones that feature several different characters at once, whether animals or humans; there’s so much to look at on these pages that it’s well worth lingering a moment or two beyond what it will take to read. Most pages have one or two sentences, though there is the occasional three-sentence page. These are all quite short, however, and Jordan uses plenty of repetition to make things easier for unsteady readers.
Although this book was created by a different writer-artist team than Sweet and Spooky Halloween, the similarities between the two are sometimes striking. The most obvious shared image is Cinderella and the prince riding off in a pumpkin-shaped carriage, with the scenes of the Atlantica masquerade also suggesting that they might have been going for some consistency between the two books. Another similarity is that Ariel and Belle are not yet married, while it would appear that the other princesses are, though it’s not entirely clear with Jasmine and Aurora, whose appellation of Sleeping Beauty adds to the ambiguity.
These two books would make good companions for each other, but if you’re only going to get one, I’d go with this, as there are more princesses and more fall activities in the mix. The distribution of princesses is also almost perfectly balanced, unlike in Sweet and Spooky Halloween, and giving each princess her own space makes it feel more organized. A great little book for young Disney Princess enthusiasts, A Fairy-Tale Fall offers a chance to see terrific characters interact in a charming fall setting.
Wednesday, October 19, 2011
Monsters, Inc.: Laugh Factory Generates Giggles and Intrigue Aplenty
Each of the Disney Pixar films has been outstanding in its own way, but
for sheer sweetness and inventiveness, it’s hard to beat Monsters, Inc., so I was thrilled to find Monsters, Inc.: Laugh Factory,
a BOOM Kids! graphic novel published in 2010. About a hundred pages
long, this book was written by Paul Benjamin with artwork by Amy
Mebberson and other contributions from Troy Peteri, Aaron Sparrow and
Erika Terriquez. It includes four interconnected “chapters,” each of
which requires protagonists James “Sulley” Sullivan, the jumbo-sized
furry blue monster now running the company that supplies Monstropolis
with energy, and Mike Wazowski, his one-eyed, wise-cracking best friend,
to crack a mystery. Boo, the adorable toddler with whom Sulley shares a
special friendship, has a hand in each tale, as does Celia, Mike’s
snake-haired girlfriend.
One nice thing about this collection is that each story is fairly long, which allows for a more leisurely panel pace. I never had trouble jumping from one panel to the next as I sometimes did when reading Uncle Scrooge in DuckTales: Messes Become Successes. The pictures and the words tell the whole story every step of the way. What’s more, there is continuity in the storyline. We’re not just seeing four tales that happen to take place in Monstropolis; each follows the other logically. The last story does a particularly good job of tying the first three together.
Another great element of this book is the humor. I caught myself laughing several times while reading it. That’s partly because Mike keeps cracking corny jokes and partly because Boo is so cute she gives me the giggles, but really, it’s just a very lighthearted book with plenty of wit. Comical side characters include Roz, the ornery slug monster who oversees the Child Detection Agency; Mrs. Nesbit, a well-to-do tentacle creature with a jittery disposition; and George, an insecure fuzzy orange factory worker who is slightly smaller than Sulley.
Part of the humor comes from the allusions to other Pixar movies. For the most part, these show up in the form of posters, toys and furniture in the rooms of the children whose rooms the monsters enter in their quest to collect laughter from them. Boo’s room is a particularly rich source of references. Once I spotted the first couple of nods, I began searching for them deliberately, and that added to the entertainment value of the book. Each of them made me smile, but my favorite is when we see Sulley sitting in Boo’s room, reading her the Little Golden Book version of Finding Nemo. Additionally, two other Pixar characters play a fairly significant role, making this book more entertaining for those who are pretty familiar with Pixar.
Each of the four stories is a mini-mystery. In the first, gag props go missing, and since Mike is the top laugh gatherer at the factory, he becomes the prime suspect and must clear his name. In the second, Sulley has to figure out why all of the kids they’ve been visiting lately have been too terrified to laugh. The third deals with a sudden rash of toy disappearances among the kids on the monsters’ routes, and the final tale brings the villains from the previous stories together to kidnap Mike and Sulley, leaving Celia and Boo to do most of the sleuthing themselves. Though there are a couple of scary moments, the situation never feels too dire, and the humor is definitely kid-friendly.
Aside from the four chapters, this book includes a collection of covers and a page dedicated to a spotlight on the CDA. It surprised me not to see advertisements for other comic books and graphic novels, which I’ve encountered in other books from BOOM Kids!; this makes the book a bit leaner than most. However, I would not say that it detracts from it. Laugh Factory is an endearing book that follows logically after Monsters, Inc. and easily lives up to its name.
One nice thing about this collection is that each story is fairly long, which allows for a more leisurely panel pace. I never had trouble jumping from one panel to the next as I sometimes did when reading Uncle Scrooge in DuckTales: Messes Become Successes. The pictures and the words tell the whole story every step of the way. What’s more, there is continuity in the storyline. We’re not just seeing four tales that happen to take place in Monstropolis; each follows the other logically. The last story does a particularly good job of tying the first three together.
Another great element of this book is the humor. I caught myself laughing several times while reading it. That’s partly because Mike keeps cracking corny jokes and partly because Boo is so cute she gives me the giggles, but really, it’s just a very lighthearted book with plenty of wit. Comical side characters include Roz, the ornery slug monster who oversees the Child Detection Agency; Mrs. Nesbit, a well-to-do tentacle creature with a jittery disposition; and George, an insecure fuzzy orange factory worker who is slightly smaller than Sulley.
Part of the humor comes from the allusions to other Pixar movies. For the most part, these show up in the form of posters, toys and furniture in the rooms of the children whose rooms the monsters enter in their quest to collect laughter from them. Boo’s room is a particularly rich source of references. Once I spotted the first couple of nods, I began searching for them deliberately, and that added to the entertainment value of the book. Each of them made me smile, but my favorite is when we see Sulley sitting in Boo’s room, reading her the Little Golden Book version of Finding Nemo. Additionally, two other Pixar characters play a fairly significant role, making this book more entertaining for those who are pretty familiar with Pixar.
Each of the four stories is a mini-mystery. In the first, gag props go missing, and since Mike is the top laugh gatherer at the factory, he becomes the prime suspect and must clear his name. In the second, Sulley has to figure out why all of the kids they’ve been visiting lately have been too terrified to laugh. The third deals with a sudden rash of toy disappearances among the kids on the monsters’ routes, and the final tale brings the villains from the previous stories together to kidnap Mike and Sulley, leaving Celia and Boo to do most of the sleuthing themselves. Though there are a couple of scary moments, the situation never feels too dire, and the humor is definitely kid-friendly.
Aside from the four chapters, this book includes a collection of covers and a page dedicated to a spotlight on the CDA. It surprised me not to see advertisements for other comic books and graphic novels, which I’ve encountered in other books from BOOM Kids!; this makes the book a bit leaner than most. However, I would not say that it detracts from it. Laugh Factory is an endearing book that follows logically after Monsters, Inc. and easily lives up to its name.
Cameron Dokey Brings the Spirited Mulan to Life in Wild Orchid
When I think of brave Disney princesses, Belle usually comes to mind first. However, Mulan
– technically not a princess at any point in her Disney existence but
still lumped in with the rest – is even braver, posing as a man so she
can go off to war in her ailing father’s place. The devotion this young
heroine of Ancient China showed to her father touched me, and her
courage and independent spirit reminded me of Eowyn, my favorite female
character in Lord of the Rings. I’d never heard of Mulan before the Disney movie came out in 1998, but The Ballad of Mulan, the tale from which she emerged, is as beloved in some corners of the world as Beauty and the Beast and Cinderella.
Hence, her story is a part of Simon Pulse’s Once Upon a Time Series,
which includes novelizations of a dozen or so famous folk and fairy
tales.
Cameron Dokey, who also wrote six other books in the series, is the author behind Wild Orchid, the tale of Mulan that was published in 2009. It bears little resemblance to the Disney version except in its basic storyline: Ancient Chinese tomboy goes to war in her father’s place, falls in love with her commander and saves China. The rest of the details are completely different, so if this book was influenced in any way by the Disney version, Dokey seems to have made a concentrated effort to make them completely distinct from each other.
This version is entirely devoid of any fantastical elements: no talking dragon, no conferring ancestors. Mulan, who narrates the book, is significantly younger, just 14 years old when she joins the army. Raised by Min Xian, an elderly housekeeper who doesn’t keep a very tight rein on her, Mulan is the daughter of a respected general who she doesn’t meet until the age of 13 and his beloved wife who died giving birth to her. Their marriage for love was unusual, a gift granted by the Emperor for her father’s exceptional service. Hence, while everything about this story feels pretty natural and plausible, there is a slight mystical sense that because Mulan was born of such a marriage, even though she grew up in the absence of her parents, she has a heart that is destined to follow its own path.
What surprised me most about this book, which contains 19 chapters and about 200 pages, is the fact that Mulan does not leave home until more than halfway through. We spent a lot of time getting to know her through her unconventional childhood, which is filled with clandestine lessons from her best friend, a neighbor boy named Li Po. While Min Xian insists that she develop feminine skills like embroidery and weaving, she spends her free time gaining a much more interesting education from Li Po. By the time her father returns, she is adept at reading and writing, horseback riding, swordplay and especially archery. But what will her father think of such a rough-and-tumble daughter?
In many ways, this is a father-daughter story. Mulan longs for her father’s love and approval, but she resents his lack of contact throughout her childhood and his refusal to allow her to know her mother’s name. Slowed down by an old war injury and tortured by the thought that history could repeat itself with his second pregnant wife, he is in genuine danger when the summons to fight comes, particularly since he has fallen out of favor with the Emperor and is now only being asked to fight as a regular soldier, but Mulan’s decision to go in his place is almost as much about gaining his respect as it is an attempt to spare him further pain. It’s also an attempt to discover who she really is. She notes repeatedly that she is not like other girls, and she hopes to find a proper place for herself in the army.
Another difference here is that when she goes to war, she meets with two friends in whom she confides her true identity. One is Li Po, who is apprenticed to the other, General Yuwen, a warm, understanding friend of her father’s to whom she became close during his stay in the household after his return home. Having two such highly respected people in on her secret and looking after her makes it a much less lonely and frightening experience. It helps, too, that she quickly forms a curious kinship with Prince Jian, the youngest and most beloved of the Emperor’s sons, after demonstrating her ability with a bow and arrow and her knack for speaking with wisdom and diplomacy. She and the prince seem to understand each other, but does she dare reveal her true identity, and will she have the strength to face the ferocious Huns when they venture forth into battle?
I found this book very well-written and moving. There’s a formal quality to the writing that seems appropriate for the culture in which Mulan is raised. She is extraordinarily well-spoken for a 14-year-old, but then in her world, that is practically considered an adult; it is not at all uncommon for girls to be married off at 15. The unusual freedom she enjoyed in her formative years gives her a deeper level of maturity, even as it contributes to her wild nature. One interesting aspect of this book is the emphasis on names and how they help define and reveal a person’s character. Mulan means “wood orchid,” a fitting description for a spirit so lovely and untamed. Dokey does an excellent job of making her and those she loves real to readers, and I look forward to seeing if she fares just as well with other beloved folk figures.
Cameron Dokey, who also wrote six other books in the series, is the author behind Wild Orchid, the tale of Mulan that was published in 2009. It bears little resemblance to the Disney version except in its basic storyline: Ancient Chinese tomboy goes to war in her father’s place, falls in love with her commander and saves China. The rest of the details are completely different, so if this book was influenced in any way by the Disney version, Dokey seems to have made a concentrated effort to make them completely distinct from each other.
This version is entirely devoid of any fantastical elements: no talking dragon, no conferring ancestors. Mulan, who narrates the book, is significantly younger, just 14 years old when she joins the army. Raised by Min Xian, an elderly housekeeper who doesn’t keep a very tight rein on her, Mulan is the daughter of a respected general who she doesn’t meet until the age of 13 and his beloved wife who died giving birth to her. Their marriage for love was unusual, a gift granted by the Emperor for her father’s exceptional service. Hence, while everything about this story feels pretty natural and plausible, there is a slight mystical sense that because Mulan was born of such a marriage, even though she grew up in the absence of her parents, she has a heart that is destined to follow its own path.
What surprised me most about this book, which contains 19 chapters and about 200 pages, is the fact that Mulan does not leave home until more than halfway through. We spent a lot of time getting to know her through her unconventional childhood, which is filled with clandestine lessons from her best friend, a neighbor boy named Li Po. While Min Xian insists that she develop feminine skills like embroidery and weaving, she spends her free time gaining a much more interesting education from Li Po. By the time her father returns, she is adept at reading and writing, horseback riding, swordplay and especially archery. But what will her father think of such a rough-and-tumble daughter?
In many ways, this is a father-daughter story. Mulan longs for her father’s love and approval, but she resents his lack of contact throughout her childhood and his refusal to allow her to know her mother’s name. Slowed down by an old war injury and tortured by the thought that history could repeat itself with his second pregnant wife, he is in genuine danger when the summons to fight comes, particularly since he has fallen out of favor with the Emperor and is now only being asked to fight as a regular soldier, but Mulan’s decision to go in his place is almost as much about gaining his respect as it is an attempt to spare him further pain. It’s also an attempt to discover who she really is. She notes repeatedly that she is not like other girls, and she hopes to find a proper place for herself in the army.
Another difference here is that when she goes to war, she meets with two friends in whom she confides her true identity. One is Li Po, who is apprenticed to the other, General Yuwen, a warm, understanding friend of her father’s to whom she became close during his stay in the household after his return home. Having two such highly respected people in on her secret and looking after her makes it a much less lonely and frightening experience. It helps, too, that she quickly forms a curious kinship with Prince Jian, the youngest and most beloved of the Emperor’s sons, after demonstrating her ability with a bow and arrow and her knack for speaking with wisdom and diplomacy. She and the prince seem to understand each other, but does she dare reveal her true identity, and will she have the strength to face the ferocious Huns when they venture forth into battle?
I found this book very well-written and moving. There’s a formal quality to the writing that seems appropriate for the culture in which Mulan is raised. She is extraordinarily well-spoken for a 14-year-old, but then in her world, that is practically considered an adult; it is not at all uncommon for girls to be married off at 15. The unusual freedom she enjoyed in her formative years gives her a deeper level of maturity, even as it contributes to her wild nature. One interesting aspect of this book is the emphasis on names and how they help define and reveal a person’s character. Mulan means “wood orchid,” a fitting description for a spirit so lovely and untamed. Dokey does an excellent job of making her and those she loves real to readers, and I look forward to seeing if she fares just as well with other beloved folk figures.
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