One advantage to working in a bookstore is that when new books of
interest come out, I’m among the first to know. This week, I was
surprised to see that we had a brand-new children’s book that had been
written by President Barack Obama. Naturally, it piqued my interest, and
after leafing through it, I was so mesmerized that I couldn’t resist
buying a copy for myself.
In Of Thee I Sing: A Letter to My Daughters,
Obama eloquently addresses young Sasha and Malia, lavishing tender
words of encouragement upon them and honoring 13 groundbreaking
Americans in the process. I’m guessing that 13 were chosen as an homage
to the 13 colonies, though I don’t know if that’s the case. At any rate,
this is a patriotic book that is as educational as it is heartwarming.
It’s oversized, a hardcover about a foot high, making it all the more
appropriate as a coffee table book. That really is what I imagine this
being, as a picture book by the sitting President is certainly a
conversation starter, and the illustrations are absolutely stunning.
I’ve previously encountered Loren Long, who impressed me mightily with Drummer Boy,
a sweet story about a toy drummer who is unwittingly sent on an epic
journey to points all around town before finally making his way back to
the boy who loves him. Long wrote that story as well as illustrating it,
while he also furnished pictures for an edition of Frank McCourt’s
gentle Angela and the Baby Jesus.
Long’s acrylic paintings are gorgeous, full of light and warmth and
personality. They have a very realistic quality to them, and all of the
historical figures in Of Thee I Sing are instantly recognizable to those familiar with their faces.
We also see the Obama family, save Michelle, to whom the book is
dedicated. The title page features Barack, as does the final page,
though we never get a very clear view of him; in one picture, we see the
back of his head as he watches his daughters frolic across the lawn,
while in the other, a bit of his face is visible as he stands between
his daughters, their hands clasped in his. Family dog Bo appears on the
cover and first page, and he has the back inside flap to himself. But
the girls are clearly visible throughout the book.
For most of
the book, Obama and Long follow a basic format. On the left page, we
have a simple question: “Have I told you that you are _____ ?” At the
end of that sentence, or one very similarly phrased, is a particular
admirable trait that he sees in his daughters, and he expands upon his
thoughts on the next page with lyrical reflections on how one particular
American exemplifies that quality.
Indeed, each sketch feels
like a self-contained poem, with stirring language and deliberate line
breaks. For instance, we have, “A man named Jackie Robinson played
baseball / and showed us all / how to turn fear to respect / and respect
to love. Of Helen Keller, he writes, “Though she could not see or hear,
/ she taught us to look at and listen to each other.” And Neil
Armstrong: “He watched the world from way up high / and we watched his
lunar landing leaps, / which made us brave enough / to take our own big,
bold strides.”
For Long’s part, he starts off with Malia and
Sasha on the left side against a plain white backdrop, initially joined
by a little girl with a palette and paintbrushes, as the first word
Obama explores is “creative”. On each page that follows, they are joined
by one more child who correlates to the main subject of the two-page
rumination. Meanwhile, each right-hand page features a
more-than-half-page portrait of the historical American in question.
Each is totally unique, not only faithfully representing the subject but
setting him or her in a context that powerfully illustrates the
description of his or her accomplishments.
My favorite of the
portraits is of Lakota medicine man Sitting Bull. In fact, it was this
painting that decided me on buying the book. Reminiscent of the style of
Bev Doolittle, the picture is immediately recognizable as the somber
face on the 28-cent postage stamp released in 1989. And yet it’s not a
face, it’s a landscape. Or rather, it’s both. The rugged western terrain
serves as the backdrop for his craggy face, with grazing horses
accentuating the cheekbones and a pair of buffalo underneath windblown
trees standing in for his eyes. Arresting. So is the portrait of Maya
Lin, whose face is merely seen reflected in the Vietnam Veterans
Memorial she designed, and there’s a sense of wonder and enchantment in
the sight of a disheveled Albert Einstein standing under the stars,
pencil in one hand and paper in the other, his hair ruffled by a gentle
breeze.
Some of the entries are no-brainers: George Washington, Martin Luther King, Jr. and, of course, my birthday buddy, Abraham Lincoln.
Others caught me more by surprise: painter Georgia O’Keeffe, singer
Billie Holiday, humanitarian Jane Addams, activist Cesar Chavez. But
each figure is treated as someone with important lessons to teach the
future generations of children depicted, along with youths of the past,
on a two-page spread that shows the incredible diversity of cultures and
interests at play in America.
Of Thee I Sing is a book
that aims to inspire greatness by showing today’s children how many
different ways there are to make an impact. It celebrates “People who
have made bright lights shine / by sharing their unique gifts / and
giving us the courage to lift one another up, / to keep up the fight, /
to work and build upon all that is good / in our nation.” Obama never
mentions his presidency in the book, nor do the illustrations allude to
it; this is just an American dad with a solid grasp of history passing
some words of wisdom along to his daughters. His parting thought? “And
have I told you that I love you?”
Have I told you that I love this book?
Reviews and essays, including all my reviews posted on Epinions from 2000 to 2014.
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Barack Obama. Show all posts
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
Tuesday, February 10, 2009
The President's Puppy: Lincoln From a Dog's Eye View
Ever since Barack Obama's Election Day promise to buy his daughters a
puppy, there's been a lot of speculation as to what type of pup might
have the honor of being First Dog. Presidential pets are nothing new;
according to Wikipedia, only Chester A. Arthur had no pets at all during
his stay in the White House, and all but ten Presidents had dogs there.
That includes Abraham Lincoln, who adopted a dog named Jip after he got
to the White House, but he also left a dog behind in Springfield,
fearing the journey and change of surroundings would prove too
traumatic. That dog was Fido, the subject of The President's Puppy, a level four Hello Reader! written by Linda Oatman High and illustrated by Steve Bjorkman.
This is an easy reader designed for second and third graders, so the sentence structure tends to be pretty basic, and there's quite a bit of repetition along the lines of Fido did this or He did that. This gives the story a slightly truncated feel. The writing is informative but not particularly engrossing. The illustrations, meanwhile, are a cartoonish sort of realistic and remind me of Sucie Stevenson's pictures for the Henry and Mudge series.
The book is written in the third person but lets readers into Fido's head as the author imagines how the dog would respond to his family life in Illinois and the change in his circumstances after Lincoln's election to the presidency. Among the more interesting tidbits are Lincoln's habit of going to Billy the Barber's and Diller's Drugstore (with Fido in tow) and his gift of Fido's favorite sofa to the neighbors who took him in. There's also the fact that the Lincolns had a photograph taken of Fido before they left for Washington, D.C.; the book doesn't mention this, but it was the first known photo of a presidential pet.
Though the book concludes with President Lincoln's assassination, it fails to mention the death of Willie Lincoln, who figures prominently in the first portion of the book. Perhaps High didn't want the book to get too depressing; I certainly don't blame her for leaving out the fact that Fido's life ended in 1866 when he was stabbed by a drunk. Still, there are certain elements that could have been expanded upon, and the title is misleading, as Fido was several years old in 1860.
The President's Puppy is an interesting little slice of history. By describing his dog, which did many of the same things any typical dog would do (chase his tail, have his ears scratched, play in the leaves, steal food off the table), High helps make Lincoln seem more accessible to modern youngsters. For a much more in-depth look at how Lincoln related to animals, I recommend Ellen Jackson's Abe Lincoln Loved Animals, but The President's Puppy is a good starting point.
This is an easy reader designed for second and third graders, so the sentence structure tends to be pretty basic, and there's quite a bit of repetition along the lines of Fido did this or He did that. This gives the story a slightly truncated feel. The writing is informative but not particularly engrossing. The illustrations, meanwhile, are a cartoonish sort of realistic and remind me of Sucie Stevenson's pictures for the Henry and Mudge series.
The book is written in the third person but lets readers into Fido's head as the author imagines how the dog would respond to his family life in Illinois and the change in his circumstances after Lincoln's election to the presidency. Among the more interesting tidbits are Lincoln's habit of going to Billy the Barber's and Diller's Drugstore (with Fido in tow) and his gift of Fido's favorite sofa to the neighbors who took him in. There's also the fact that the Lincolns had a photograph taken of Fido before they left for Washington, D.C.; the book doesn't mention this, but it was the first known photo of a presidential pet.
Though the book concludes with President Lincoln's assassination, it fails to mention the death of Willie Lincoln, who figures prominently in the first portion of the book. Perhaps High didn't want the book to get too depressing; I certainly don't blame her for leaving out the fact that Fido's life ended in 1866 when he was stabbed by a drunk. Still, there are certain elements that could have been expanded upon, and the title is misleading, as Fido was several years old in 1860.
The President's Puppy is an interesting little slice of history. By describing his dog, which did many of the same things any typical dog would do (chase his tail, have his ears scratched, play in the leaves, steal food off the table), High helps make Lincoln seem more accessible to modern youngsters. For a much more in-depth look at how Lincoln related to animals, I recommend Ellen Jackson's Abe Lincoln Loved Animals, but The President's Puppy is a good starting point.
Monday, January 26, 2009
An Everyman Strives to Make the Country - and Himself - Better in Swing Vote
This past week found me glued to the television two nights in a row for a
pair of long-anticipated events: the Inauguration of Barack Obama and
the season five premiere of LOST. A couple days later, I found myself watching a movie with relevance to both: Swing Vote, a feel-good satire about our nation's political process.
Okay, so it's mostly relevant to the ushering in of a new president, as the whole movie is about an extraordinarily close presidential election whose outcome is to be determined by a single man, an immature, beer-swilling single dad in New Mexico named Bud Johnson (Kevin Costner). The particulars of how this duty is bestowed upon him stretch believability, but this is a movie designed to lampoon the circus that is campaigning, so realism isn't a terribly important consideration.
There's enough truth within it to strike a chord with those weary of the endless games politicians seem to play in hopes of winning that coveted vote. In this film, the contenders are Republican incumbent Andrew Boone (Kelsey Grammer), an ultra-conservative fellow who finds common ground with Bud in such earthy activities as football and Nascar, and Democratic hopeful Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper), who appeals to Bud's love of fishing and his fondness for Willie Nelson. I appreciate that writer-director Joshua Michael Stern depicts both candidates as honorable and capable, albeit with very particular prejudices on certain matters. With only one man to impress, both parties throw all of their effort behind attempts to appease him, egged on by their unethical advisors, played by a sibilant Stanley Tucci and pushy Nathan Lane. Meanwhile, Bud becomes a media darling, an instant celebrity on whom the hopes of the country are pinned.
The LOST connection comes in the form of Madeline Carroll, the young actress who plays Bud's daughter Molly. It only took me a moment to realize why I recognized her; though her total onscreen time probably amounted to less than fifteen minutes, she made a big impression on me as Annie, childhood sweetheart of the perpetually perplexing Ben Linus, in season three's The Man Behind the Curtain. I've been itching for the return of her character on the show and expect it will happen at some point, though not necessarily with Carroll in the role; hence, I was pretty tickled to see her here.
Inevitably, I had to draw a few LOST comparisons. We don't know much about Annie's parentage, other than that she must have at least one parent who works for the Dharma Initiative. But Molly's relationship with her father has parallels with Ben's - not, happily, in his level of affection toward her, which is undeniable, but in the way that she has to look after him, particularly after he has been drinking. Bud is clueless but not abusive, but Molly's best friend isn't so lucky, and the isolated children find solace in each other, particularly during a swing set scene that reminds me not only of Ben and Annie but also of a certain shadowy Hogwarts professor and his long-lost love.
Molly really is the heart of the film, a middle schooler with big ambitions who's tired of feeling as though she is raising her dad instead of the other way around. At times, she's an insufferable know-it-all, as only a clever preteen girl can be, but for the most part, she is likable, and it's heartwarming to see how Bud's awareness of the importance of his decision develops because of his daughter. The movie is less snarky and more warm-hearted than I expected, and the great cast helps make the outlandish situation easier to swallow. With this last election still fresh in everyone's minds, Swing Vote is a funny and timely film.
Okay, so it's mostly relevant to the ushering in of a new president, as the whole movie is about an extraordinarily close presidential election whose outcome is to be determined by a single man, an immature, beer-swilling single dad in New Mexico named Bud Johnson (Kevin Costner). The particulars of how this duty is bestowed upon him stretch believability, but this is a movie designed to lampoon the circus that is campaigning, so realism isn't a terribly important consideration.
There's enough truth within it to strike a chord with those weary of the endless games politicians seem to play in hopes of winning that coveted vote. In this film, the contenders are Republican incumbent Andrew Boone (Kelsey Grammer), an ultra-conservative fellow who finds common ground with Bud in such earthy activities as football and Nascar, and Democratic hopeful Donald Greenleaf (Dennis Hopper), who appeals to Bud's love of fishing and his fondness for Willie Nelson. I appreciate that writer-director Joshua Michael Stern depicts both candidates as honorable and capable, albeit with very particular prejudices on certain matters. With only one man to impress, both parties throw all of their effort behind attempts to appease him, egged on by their unethical advisors, played by a sibilant Stanley Tucci and pushy Nathan Lane. Meanwhile, Bud becomes a media darling, an instant celebrity on whom the hopes of the country are pinned.
The LOST connection comes in the form of Madeline Carroll, the young actress who plays Bud's daughter Molly. It only took me a moment to realize why I recognized her; though her total onscreen time probably amounted to less than fifteen minutes, she made a big impression on me as Annie, childhood sweetheart of the perpetually perplexing Ben Linus, in season three's The Man Behind the Curtain. I've been itching for the return of her character on the show and expect it will happen at some point, though not necessarily with Carroll in the role; hence, I was pretty tickled to see her here.
Inevitably, I had to draw a few LOST comparisons. We don't know much about Annie's parentage, other than that she must have at least one parent who works for the Dharma Initiative. But Molly's relationship with her father has parallels with Ben's - not, happily, in his level of affection toward her, which is undeniable, but in the way that she has to look after him, particularly after he has been drinking. Bud is clueless but not abusive, but Molly's best friend isn't so lucky, and the isolated children find solace in each other, particularly during a swing set scene that reminds me not only of Ben and Annie but also of a certain shadowy Hogwarts professor and his long-lost love.
Molly really is the heart of the film, a middle schooler with big ambitions who's tired of feeling as though she is raising her dad instead of the other way around. At times, she's an insufferable know-it-all, as only a clever preteen girl can be, but for the most part, she is likable, and it's heartwarming to see how Bud's awareness of the importance of his decision develops because of his daughter. The movie is less snarky and more warm-hearted than I expected, and the great cast helps make the outlandish situation easier to swallow. With this last election still fresh in everyone's minds, Swing Vote is a funny and timely film.
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