"Breadcrumbs" by Anne Ursu is a book not easily classified. Equal parts fairy tale adapted from "The Snow Queen" and an exploration of friendship, loss and the power of imagination, it grabbed my attention and didn't let go. I loved the writing, the verbal imagery, and the characters. And although it's often true that you cannot judge a book by its cover,
with this book you can: the story lives up to Erin .McGuire's magical artwork
"It snowed right before Jack stopped talking to Hazel" opens the story; the snow is described as a magical event and the author manages to remind the reader of a time when he (or she) saw that magic as Hazel sees it, without falling into the trap of too much stage direction. Hazel greets the new snow in pajamas and socks, soaking in the magic; her mother comes to the door to tell her to come in out of the cold and get ready for school and to explain the science behind snowflakes - expertly showing how clueless adults can be when it comes to magic. Her best friend Jack hits her with a snowball and a snowballfight would have ensued right then if mom hadn't intervened. All this causes Hazel to miss her bus, requiring her mother to take her to school on icy streets which trip includes a pleading for Hazel to make new friends in addition to Jack.
Now all that might seem like rather mundane events, but in the first few pages the characters and their motivations are well established. Hazel's father has left them, her mother is overworked and tired but loving and gentle towards her daughter; Hazel is in a new school with no friend but Jack and with teachers who see her daydreaming as disobedience to the rules rather than the creativity recognized at her previous school. Fifth grade can be tough on any kid, but Hazel is having an especially difficult time coping. So Hazel tries "desperately not to disturb the universe" and just get through the day, looking forward to spending after school time with her best friend Jack.
With her mother's prodding and orchestration, Hazel slowly develops a friendship with Adelaide, who has an active imagination as well, and a very cool uncle who unlike most adults actually understands the magic the kids take for granted. He also understands kids, shown when he tells Adelaide's mother: "Come on, Lizzie. Kids can handle a lot more than you think they can. It's when they get to be grown up that you have to start worrying."
But this new friendship doesn't compare to her friendship with Jack, and when Jack inexplicably changes a couple days later after she hits him with a snowball, Hazel is bewildered, lost and confused. Unknown to her, the snowball contained a shard of a broken magic mirror and Jack has fallen under the spell
of the evil Snow Queen.What she does realize is that Jack has grown distant and unimaginative and now says mean things like "stop being such a baby," something the real Jack would never say. No one seems to notice that Jack is not Jack and although her mother is sympathetic she tells Hazel that sometimes people just change, and Hazel must accept that fact as part of growing up.
"Breadcrumbs" is divided into two parts, the first of which is set in the "real" world which is in many ways scarier and more unfriendly than the fairy tale world Hazel enters into in the second part when she goes to rescue Jack. One of my favorite parts in the real world comes after Hazel, having been sent to the school counselor where "she felt like a bird that someone was preparing to stuff and put on a mantel" has a session with the counselor and her mother. As they leave, her mother is silent and stops outside the office to look at a flower arrangement. Hazel tells her the flowers are fake. Her mother rolls her eyes and says she knows, and asks if Hazel is okay. A defeated Hazel shrugs and responds, "They're going to figure out what's wrong with me."
Something flashed over her mother's face, and she leaned down and put her hand on Hazel's shoulder. "Hazel," she said, her voice firm and grave. "Listen to me. There is nothing wrong with you. Got it?"
Hazel nods, but she believes the words to be like the plastic flowers, looking good on the surface. She's not yet ready to trust herself or the adult world she believes has let her down. That will come by the tale's end (I would have been acutely disappointed if she didn't) but the character of her mother was wholly redeemed with that exchange. Despite her own frustration and not knowing how to help her daughter cope with her trials, she found a beautiful way to love and support her child. Sometimes children's literature paints adults as emotionally absent and non-supportive without showing that they struggle as much as their children do. Extra points here!
When one of Jack's friends tells Hazel that he had seen Jack follow a woman dressed in white into the woods, she knows what she must do: she must go into the woods and rescue Jack from the Snow Queen, and in the second half of the book she does just that, "in ill-considered shoes, brave and completely unprepared."
Wolves and ravens and giant clocks; dancing slippers and a trio of women at a spinning wheel and an empty swan skin are just a few of the creatures and things Hazel finds in the woods before she makes it to where the Snow Queen is holding her friend captive. Hazel must learn to know who to trust and who not to in this strange world, and that of course includes herself. And in the end, it is her love for Jack that rescues him and brings them both back to the real world.
The book is replete with references to both classic fairy tales and more modern children's classics by C. S. Lewis, J. K. Rowling, Madeleine L'Engle, Phillip Pullman and others, many of which I recognized and probably a few which went over my head; most of which are old friends of mine and a few which in the context given I figure I perhaps ought to revisit. In celebrating imagination and friendship, "Breadcrumbs" celebrates the joy of reading as well. And it has earned a spot in my "favorites" bookshelf.
Monday, December 17, 2012
Monday, September 3, 2012
Post-apocalyptic Fairy Tales
If a blend of retold fairy tales and post-apocalyptic romance sounds a little odd - well, it is. And yet that doesn't mean it can't work. This year I've read two books which, although neither made it to my "favorites" shelf, were nonetheless enjoyable.
First read was 2011's "A Long Long Sleep" by new author Anna Sheehan. The title probably gives away which fairy tale serves as inspiration. Rosalinda Fitzroy is awakened out of a sixty-two year chemically induced slumber when a young man exploring a forgotten room finds her stasis tube and accidentally activates it. The famous kiss for this sleeping beauty tale comes when the young man, fearing he's botched the reviving sequence, starts what this future society terms "rescue breaths". From there, the original tale takes a back seat.
Rose has missed a lot during her sixty-two year slumber, most importantly, the "Dark Times" which killed millions of people and utterly changed the world she knew. It also made her heir to an interplanetary empire. Rose must adjust to a new and foreign life while catching up on a lifetime of history she's missed, and experiencing plenty of teen angst (some things even an apocalypse cannot change.) She must learn how to run an empire she's not legally old enough to and figure out who's really on her side, as the loyalties and motives of those running the company now aren't entirely clear. She has feelings for Bren, the boy who rescued her, but also for Otto, who knows something about feeling alienated, as he has alien DNA and telepathic abilities. She has memories, told in flashbacks to her previous life, which hold clues to who she is and what happened to her, and which bring up uncomfortable questions about her parents who might not have had her best interests at heart. And then there's the Plastine - a cyborg with a mission: either bring Rose back "home", or kill her if she refuses to come along willingly, sent after her by persons unknown (although despite a couple of red herrings, I expect most readers will figure it out halfway through the novel.)
The author has stated on her webpage is working on a sequel, but his is a novel which stands well on its own.
Not so with this year's "Cinder" by Marissa Meyer, which is first in a planned series of four of "The Lunar Chronicles". Neither book ends with the obligatory happily-ever-after, but "A Long Long Sleep" ends in such a way that a sequel is possible but not necessarily expected. "Cinder" stands well on its own, but there's obviously more to be told.
Cinder is a cyborg, and the tale opens rather entertainingly with her replacing her own foot. She is the best mechanic in New Beijing, and her reputation bring Prince Kai to her marketplace booth with an urgent request for repair of an outdated android and his startling pronouncement that it is a matter of national security - stated as a joke but which Cinder perceives as quite possibly true. Cinder has a wicked stepmother and wicked stepsister, but unlike the classic tale we're all familiar with, her other stepsister is quite nice, even a friend. But when her friendly stepsister is stricken with the plague which has been devastating the earth for the past decade, stepmother blames Cinder and volunteers her for plague research, which like the plague no one has ever survived. When Cinder's blood proves to be unique, Cinder consents to further tests with the agreement that should a cure be found, her sister will be treated first.
What is a Cinderella story without a ball? Cinder wants to go, and Prince Kai has invited her. It is impossible, of course, as he is the prince and she a cyborg, a little tidbit of knowledge she conceals from him, knowing he dislikes cyborgs nearly as much as Lunars, the race bent on ruling both worlds. Cinder has a connection with the Lunar people that she herself is unaware of, and the Lunar queen has threatened war with Earth unless Prince Kai agrees to marry her. She might very well get her wish, as the Lunar people have a certain glamor about them which causes everyone to adore them, and the queen is expert at this glamor. The fate of the world might very well rest in Cinder's hands.
Of the two, I enjoyed Cinder more, but both were enjoyable and clever reads.
First read was 2011's "A Long Long Sleep" by new author Anna Sheehan. The title probably gives away which fairy tale serves as inspiration. Rosalinda Fitzroy is awakened out of a sixty-two year chemically induced slumber when a young man exploring a forgotten room finds her stasis tube and accidentally activates it. The famous kiss for this sleeping beauty tale comes when the young man, fearing he's botched the reviving sequence, starts what this future society terms "rescue breaths". From there, the original tale takes a back seat.
Rose has missed a lot during her sixty-two year slumber, most importantly, the "Dark Times" which killed millions of people and utterly changed the world she knew. It also made her heir to an interplanetary empire. Rose must adjust to a new and foreign life while catching up on a lifetime of history she's missed, and experiencing plenty of teen angst (some things even an apocalypse cannot change.) She must learn how to run an empire she's not legally old enough to and figure out who's really on her side, as the loyalties and motives of those running the company now aren't entirely clear. She has feelings for Bren, the boy who rescued her, but also for Otto, who knows something about feeling alienated, as he has alien DNA and telepathic abilities. She has memories, told in flashbacks to her previous life, which hold clues to who she is and what happened to her, and which bring up uncomfortable questions about her parents who might not have had her best interests at heart. And then there's the Plastine - a cyborg with a mission: either bring Rose back "home", or kill her if she refuses to come along willingly, sent after her by persons unknown (although despite a couple of red herrings, I expect most readers will figure it out halfway through the novel.)
The author has stated on her webpage is working on a sequel, but his is a novel which stands well on its own.
Not so with this year's "Cinder" by Marissa Meyer, which is first in a planned series of four of "The Lunar Chronicles". Neither book ends with the obligatory happily-ever-after, but "A Long Long Sleep" ends in such a way that a sequel is possible but not necessarily expected. "Cinder" stands well on its own, but there's obviously more to be told.
Cinder is a cyborg, and the tale opens rather entertainingly with her replacing her own foot. She is the best mechanic in New Beijing, and her reputation bring Prince Kai to her marketplace booth with an urgent request for repair of an outdated android and his startling pronouncement that it is a matter of national security - stated as a joke but which Cinder perceives as quite possibly true. Cinder has a wicked stepmother and wicked stepsister, but unlike the classic tale we're all familiar with, her other stepsister is quite nice, even a friend. But when her friendly stepsister is stricken with the plague which has been devastating the earth for the past decade, stepmother blames Cinder and volunteers her for plague research, which like the plague no one has ever survived. When Cinder's blood proves to be unique, Cinder consents to further tests with the agreement that should a cure be found, her sister will be treated first.
What is a Cinderella story without a ball? Cinder wants to go, and Prince Kai has invited her. It is impossible, of course, as he is the prince and she a cyborg, a little tidbit of knowledge she conceals from him, knowing he dislikes cyborgs nearly as much as Lunars, the race bent on ruling both worlds. Cinder has a connection with the Lunar people that she herself is unaware of, and the Lunar queen has threatened war with Earth unless Prince Kai agrees to marry her. She might very well get her wish, as the Lunar people have a certain glamor about them which causes everyone to adore them, and the queen is expert at this glamor. The fate of the world might very well rest in Cinder's hands.
Of the two, I enjoyed Cinder more, but both were enjoyable and clever reads.
Tuesday, July 17, 2012
The Haunted Bookshop
The bookshop in question isn't haunted by ghosts as you would probably think given the book title. In Christopher Morley's 1919 novel, the proprietor of Parnassus at Home (see this book's predecessor, "Parnassus on Wheels") has posted above the outside entrance, "THIS SHOP IS HAUNTED." Upon entering, customers are greeted by a large placard which explains:
"This shop is haunted by the ghosts of all great literature."
Both browsing and tobacco smoking is encouraged in this shop and the owner boldly states "We have what you want, though you may not know you want it."
The story opens on a cold and rainy November evening when young advertising agent Aubrey Gilbert enters Parnassus at Home to talk to the proprietor Roger Mifflin with the intent on winning the privilege of handling the latter's advertising, and expresses great disbelief upon learning that the only advertising Mr. Mifflin believes in is the books themselves. Roger invites Aubrey to supper, and the rest of the chapter discusses the virtues of books and book selling and the joy of reading, as does Chapter II when Roger meets with the Corn Cob Club, a monthly meeting with his bookseller associates, and this discussion continues.
Bibliophages will love those first two chapters as well as Chapter IX where more book philosophy is presented in the form of a letter Roger writes to his brother-in-law. Personally, I loved these chapters, even though over half of the books I'd either never heard of or had heard of by have not yet enjoyed. But even of those titles which still failed to pique my interest, the discussion itself was both entertaining and enlightening.
Those expecting a ghost story out of The Haunted Bookshop will be disappointed; as the sign presented on page three explains what the haunting of the bookstore is truly about. But that is not to say there is no mystery. There is indeed a mystery -- mysterious figures lurking about dark alleys at night, an attempt on Aubrey's life, and a stolen book which is returned but inexplicably rebound and then stolen again.
And there is romance. Enter young, beautiful Titania Chapman, daughter of Roger's friend who thinks learning the book selling trade might provide life direction for his daughter. If I state that Aubrey is instantly and completely smitten with the lovely Miss Chapman, would anyone be surprised? At one point, Aubrey reflects, "Extraordinary, how these creatures are made to torture us with their intolerable comeliness!"
Aubrey manages to convince himself, if not Titania, that her life is in great peril, and that Roger Mifflin is a part of that danger. If one has already read Parnassus on Wheels, we know there is nothing sinister about the bookseller. But there are a few grains of truth in Aubrey's suspicions, and getting to the denouement is a delight. After the appetite is whetted by observations on the joy of literature, the unfolding story is a delicious multi course meal of mystery, suspense and espionage accompanied by hearty sides of romance both sweet and comic. To quench the thirst there are pitchers full of commentary on war and peace and human nature. For dessert, Mr. Morley serves up wry observations on gender differences: "The feminine intellect leaps like a grasshopper; the masculine plods as the ant." and "He was wondering how long it might take for a girl to fall in love? A man -- he knew now -- could fall in love in five minutes, but how did it work with girls?"
Saturday, April 21, 2012
Snap!
Yesterday on the bus to work I discovered a new reason why
paper-and-ink books are better than ebooks. It's a point I'd somehow
missed in the nearly two years since buying an ereader.
The book I was reading when this thought occurred to me wasn't a particularly satisfying book. It was a teen suspense novel about a serial killer with the main character realizing she had some feelings for her best-friend-since-the-first-grade. Once the two admit to one another their feelings have changed to romance, we the readers are subjected to being reminded about it every third paragraph, which detracted greatly from the story of the serial killer, which was well, if not masterfully, written.
Whether because of or in spite of my lack of complete satisfaction for the tale, it suddenly dawned on me in the middle of the penultimate chapter that when I get to the end of a book in an ereader, the book would simply end.
But when I finish a book with paper and cloth or leather, I can close that book with a snap! You can't do that with an ereader. Of all the companies jumping on the bandwagon (or bookwagon) to embrace this technology, there is no snap! feature. And if that book was a particularly satisfying read, that snap! is particularly satisfying. With a less-than-stellar read, even the snap! is taken away from you.
The book I was reading when this thought occurred to me wasn't a particularly satisfying book. It was a teen suspense novel about a serial killer with the main character realizing she had some feelings for her best-friend-since-the-first-grade. Once the two admit to one another their feelings have changed to romance, we the readers are subjected to being reminded about it every third paragraph, which detracted greatly from the story of the serial killer, which was well, if not masterfully, written.
Whether because of or in spite of my lack of complete satisfaction for the tale, it suddenly dawned on me in the middle of the penultimate chapter that when I get to the end of a book in an ereader, the book would simply end.
But when I finish a book with paper and cloth or leather, I can close that book with a snap! You can't do that with an ereader. Of all the companies jumping on the bandwagon (or bookwagon) to embrace this technology, there is no snap! feature. And if that book was a particularly satisfying read, that snap! is particularly satisfying. With a less-than-stellar read, even the snap! is taken away from you.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Book Treasures
Last night, at the end of a long work week, on a whim, I stopped at Black and Read in Arvada. I'd not been there for a year, maybe longer. I'd thought of it, many times, but there was always a reason not to. I was too tired. It was cold, and the air smelled like it would snow before I got home. There was nothing in particular I wanted. Or there were things in particular I wanted, but amazon.com or barnesandnoble.com were searchable and more convenient and I can get online and select what I want and not get distracted by other books (not at all true, but I keep telling myself that.) But I had a whim. And feeling whimmy (not quite the same as "whimsical", but in needing a particular word and not finding it, I made one up) I got off the bus and walked in. Walking out an hour later with seven books and a CC receipt for $34.56 (notice both numbers: Magical, no?) I thought of a possible additional reason why I'd not been there for awhile: Black and Read is a dangerous place.
It's also a very wonderful place. Basically, the store is divided in two, each with its own entrance but connected by narrow paths and doorways which may or may not meet fire codes. (There are ceiling sprinklers all over, and with that much book paper, one fervently hopes they would work if ever needed.) They have at least one of everything. You might have a difficult time finding it, but it's probably there. They probably have Inkheart - and I don't mean Cornelia Funke's Inkheart, I mean the book Inkheart that book is about, which young Meggie and her father Mo search so desperately for, before the evil Capricorn finds it. I would not be at all surprised to find a copy in Black and Read. Whatever you are looking for, you might very well find it there; it is like a very compact Amazon.com. You might find your book in the mystery section, the young adult section, or the classics section. Every section has floor to ceiling bookcases, with only head-high cases in the center, presumably so you can orient yourself without the aid of a compass or GPS device. Paperbacks, book club edition hardcovers, leather-bound volumes; hundred year old books and current best-sellers (i.e., a stack of "The Hunger Games" at the checkout counter - I resisted!) DVDs and VHS (78% of the world's remaining videocassettes have ended up in that store.) Music CDs, cassettes, and LPs. Books on gardening, history, the occult; comics and Harvard Classics and dime store thrillers. Yep, a little of everything. In short, it is a booklover's dream.
I went in specifically looking for two things: first, some of those Bantam leatherette bound Agatha Christie from the eighties. At one time the store had a whole bunch of them, when i didn't want them. Now I do, and they don't. So I move on. I was also in the mood for old books. Lest anyone think purchasing new (or new-old) books at a time I'm trying to declutter, is incongruous with that goal, be it known that I am trying to send three books out the door for every new or new-used book I bring in. I think I am closer to one-for-two than one-for-three, but that is my goal. These old books can be new treasures. Books previously loved and cherished which for reasons unknown but temptingly worth speculating about, have ended up in used book stores. Tonight I might have not found the Agatha Christie I was looking for, but I found a number of gems and pearls which insisted I adopt them.
First I found "World's Great Detective Stories" from Walter J. Black's Readers Service, 1928. In the early eighties I'd bought a couple of volumes from this now-defunct service but really wasn't pleased with the tan faux leather bindings and bright lettering stamped unto the cover and gilded top page edge; the combination produced an overall effect of gaudiness. A few years ago I came across an earlier edition of the Works of Victor Hugo, bound in red cloth, minus the gilding, making for a more attractive, and my my own comparison, a more durable volume. I'd searched in vain for more of these volumes, but until tonight had come up empty. The story titles I didn't recognize although I knew the authors: Twain, Poe, Doyle, Kipling, Stevenson, Chekhov, and Dumas and others. But my curiosity was most piqued by "D'Artagnan, Detective". A Musketeer moonlighting as a detective? This sounds promising...
Next, "The Four Million", by the master of the short story, O. Henry. It is the volume containing two of my favorites, "The Gift of the Magi" and "The Cop and the Anthem". This edition was printed in 1910, red cloth, with only the merest hint of separation of pages. A steal at four dollars. There is however more to treasure in an old book than hand-sewn bindings and copyright dates older than one's parents. This particular volume had a little yellow stamp inside the front cover, a stamp which made me think of trading stamps my mother collected when I was a kid. The stamp reads:
"From the P.O. News Stand
27 W Park Street
BUTTE, MONT.
Books, Stationery,
Magazines, News,
Novelties & Cigars"
and this in turn sparked my imagination about what kind of place this was, and when this place was (before zip codes, it would seem?) - and it caused me to recollect Christopher Morley's "The Haunted Bookshop" and its pipe smoking proprietor. I'm not at all fond of the smell of tobacco however it is smoked, but that stamp inside the book calls up another time as well as another place - and suggests a story or two behind the initial owners of this book.
Three more O. Henry volumes, green cloth, 1917 printings of "The Trimmed Lamp" (hosting a couple more of my favorites, "The Last Leaf" and "The Purple Dress"), "The Voice of the City", and "Sixes and Sevens". Each in decent condition, each a bargain at two dollars each - two bucks for 95 year old books! But wait - there's more! Again, there's some history attached to these older tomes. A previous owner or two lived five miles from my current residence. I do not know if it is one or two people; there are two addresses on the same block, one written in ink as H.H. ____ and the other stamped in ink as Harold H. Same person, in a new residence? How many years later? Father and son? In the same hand as the written ex libris are the words "Cambridge Mass. Feb. 20 1919." I wonder about inscriptions like that. I wonder about the people who wrote them; what led this person to this particular school, what course of study was his? I know he had great taste in literature (for he liked the same books as I) and I wonder if someday someone will wonder about what I wrote in my books. I wonder how many in-between owners there might have been - if others, like me, felt there's something not quite right about scribbling out 93 year old inscriptions to write in my own name. It's almost like lending someone a book and when it is returned you discover that not only did this person highlight your book, the highlighted the wrong passages!
Next I found "The D.A. Calls it Murder" a non- Perry Mason mystery by Erle Stanley Gardner. No special attachment here, it merely looked interesting. Excellent condition for being 22 years old. Probably sat on a shelf because it looked pretty - but maybe the previous owner simple read their books with great care.
Finally, a small little volume of "A Texas Ranger" by N.A. Jennings. It will be 20 years old this Christmas; I looked up the publisher, Lakeside Press, and learned they've publish one book every Christmas since 1903 and they don't sell them to the public but rather give them as gifts to their employees. Boss gives you a book for Christmas? Awesome! The book itself is a book on a recommended reading list I read last year for reluctant boy readers. Well, I've never been reluctant to read, but the experiences of an eighteen year old doing border patrol in 1875 sounded like a darn good read.
Now all I need is the time to read...
It's also a very wonderful place. Basically, the store is divided in two, each with its own entrance but connected by narrow paths and doorways which may or may not meet fire codes. (There are ceiling sprinklers all over, and with that much book paper, one fervently hopes they would work if ever needed.) They have at least one of everything. You might have a difficult time finding it, but it's probably there. They probably have Inkheart - and I don't mean Cornelia Funke's Inkheart, I mean the book Inkheart that book is about, which young Meggie and her father Mo search so desperately for, before the evil Capricorn finds it. I would not be at all surprised to find a copy in Black and Read. Whatever you are looking for, you might very well find it there; it is like a very compact Amazon.com. You might find your book in the mystery section, the young adult section, or the classics section. Every section has floor to ceiling bookcases, with only head-high cases in the center, presumably so you can orient yourself without the aid of a compass or GPS device. Paperbacks, book club edition hardcovers, leather-bound volumes; hundred year old books and current best-sellers (i.e., a stack of "The Hunger Games" at the checkout counter - I resisted!) DVDs and VHS (78% of the world's remaining videocassettes have ended up in that store.) Music CDs, cassettes, and LPs. Books on gardening, history, the occult; comics and Harvard Classics and dime store thrillers. Yep, a little of everything. In short, it is a booklover's dream.
I went in specifically looking for two things: first, some of those Bantam leatherette bound Agatha Christie from the eighties. At one time the store had a whole bunch of them, when i didn't want them. Now I do, and they don't. So I move on. I was also in the mood for old books. Lest anyone think purchasing new (or new-old) books at a time I'm trying to declutter, is incongruous with that goal, be it known that I am trying to send three books out the door for every new or new-used book I bring in. I think I am closer to one-for-two than one-for-three, but that is my goal. These old books can be new treasures. Books previously loved and cherished which for reasons unknown but temptingly worth speculating about, have ended up in used book stores. Tonight I might have not found the Agatha Christie I was looking for, but I found a number of gems and pearls which insisted I adopt them.
First I found "World's Great Detective Stories" from Walter J. Black's Readers Service, 1928. In the early eighties I'd bought a couple of volumes from this now-defunct service but really wasn't pleased with the tan faux leather bindings and bright lettering stamped unto the cover and gilded top page edge; the combination produced an overall effect of gaudiness. A few years ago I came across an earlier edition of the Works of Victor Hugo, bound in red cloth, minus the gilding, making for a more attractive, and my my own comparison, a more durable volume. I'd searched in vain for more of these volumes, but until tonight had come up empty. The story titles I didn't recognize although I knew the authors: Twain, Poe, Doyle, Kipling, Stevenson, Chekhov, and Dumas and others. But my curiosity was most piqued by "D'Artagnan, Detective". A Musketeer moonlighting as a detective? This sounds promising...
Next, "The Four Million", by the master of the short story, O. Henry. It is the volume containing two of my favorites, "The Gift of the Magi" and "The Cop and the Anthem". This edition was printed in 1910, red cloth, with only the merest hint of separation of pages. A steal at four dollars. There is however more to treasure in an old book than hand-sewn bindings and copyright dates older than one's parents. This particular volume had a little yellow stamp inside the front cover, a stamp which made me think of trading stamps my mother collected when I was a kid. The stamp reads:
"From the P.O. News Stand
27 W Park Street
BUTTE, MONT.
Books, Stationery,
Magazines, News,
Novelties & Cigars"
and this in turn sparked my imagination about what kind of place this was, and when this place was (before zip codes, it would seem?) - and it caused me to recollect Christopher Morley's "The Haunted Bookshop" and its pipe smoking proprietor. I'm not at all fond of the smell of tobacco however it is smoked, but that stamp inside the book calls up another time as well as another place - and suggests a story or two behind the initial owners of this book.
Three more O. Henry volumes, green cloth, 1917 printings of "The Trimmed Lamp" (hosting a couple more of my favorites, "The Last Leaf" and "The Purple Dress"), "The Voice of the City", and "Sixes and Sevens". Each in decent condition, each a bargain at two dollars each - two bucks for 95 year old books! But wait - there's more! Again, there's some history attached to these older tomes. A previous owner or two lived five miles from my current residence. I do not know if it is one or two people; there are two addresses on the same block, one written in ink as H.H. ____ and the other stamped in ink as Harold H. Same person, in a new residence? How many years later? Father and son? In the same hand as the written ex libris are the words "Cambridge Mass. Feb. 20 1919." I wonder about inscriptions like that. I wonder about the people who wrote them; what led this person to this particular school, what course of study was his? I know he had great taste in literature (for he liked the same books as I) and I wonder if someday someone will wonder about what I wrote in my books. I wonder how many in-between owners there might have been - if others, like me, felt there's something not quite right about scribbling out 93 year old inscriptions to write in my own name. It's almost like lending someone a book and when it is returned you discover that not only did this person highlight your book, the highlighted the wrong passages!
Next I found "The D.A. Calls it Murder" a non- Perry Mason mystery by Erle Stanley Gardner. No special attachment here, it merely looked interesting. Excellent condition for being 22 years old. Probably sat on a shelf because it looked pretty - but maybe the previous owner simple read their books with great care.
Finally, a small little volume of "A Texas Ranger" by N.A. Jennings. It will be 20 years old this Christmas; I looked up the publisher, Lakeside Press, and learned they've publish one book every Christmas since 1903 and they don't sell them to the public but rather give them as gifts to their employees. Boss gives you a book for Christmas? Awesome! The book itself is a book on a recommended reading list I read last year for reluctant boy readers. Well, I've never been reluctant to read, but the experiences of an eighteen year old doing border patrol in 1875 sounded like a darn good read.
Now all I need is the time to read...
Tuesday, January 31, 2012
Penguins and Chocolate
A couple of weeks ago a friend mailed me a late Christmas present, generous portions of chocolate, and a couple penguins: a stack-the-penguins game and a penguin wall calendar. A wonderful combination, in my opinion.
"Why penguins" you ask? Well, it's become a bit of a tradition between my friend and me. I'm not sure how or when it started. It may have started when I began using the expression, "colder than penguin snot" to describe some of the brumal winter walks I endure. Or it may have started when I read Daniel Amen's "Change Your Brain, Change Your Life", a wonderful book on brain health. It explains in great detail, but not difficult to understand language, how the brain works when it is healthy, and when it is not, whether due to injury, illness or addiction.
In one chapter he tells of the day he and his son watched a penguin performing stunts at an amusement park. Dr. Amen, frustrated with his son's behavior, asked the trainer how she got the penguins to follow all her directions. The trainer replied that unlike people, she noticed and rewarded positive rather than negative behavior. Shortly thereafter Dr. Amen started collecting penguins as a reminder to himself to notice good things about people.
Now, I'd not intended to start collecting penguins. For years I had already been collected frogs, turtles and Snoopys. But whatever the impetus, my friend sent me some penguins. I retaliated in kind. And every birthday and Christmas since then has included a penguin or two.
As for the chocolate... well, you don't need a brain book to be reminded how good the person who gave you chocolate is.
"Why penguins" you ask? Well, it's become a bit of a tradition between my friend and me. I'm not sure how or when it started. It may have started when I began using the expression, "colder than penguin snot" to describe some of the brumal winter walks I endure. Or it may have started when I read Daniel Amen's "Change Your Brain, Change Your Life", a wonderful book on brain health. It explains in great detail, but not difficult to understand language, how the brain works when it is healthy, and when it is not, whether due to injury, illness or addiction.
In one chapter he tells of the day he and his son watched a penguin performing stunts at an amusement park. Dr. Amen, frustrated with his son's behavior, asked the trainer how she got the penguins to follow all her directions. The trainer replied that unlike people, she noticed and rewarded positive rather than negative behavior. Shortly thereafter Dr. Amen started collecting penguins as a reminder to himself to notice good things about people.
Now, I'd not intended to start collecting penguins. For years I had already been collected frogs, turtles and Snoopys. But whatever the impetus, my friend sent me some penguins. I retaliated in kind. And every birthday and Christmas since then has included a penguin or two.
As for the chocolate... well, you don't need a brain book to be reminded how good the person who gave you chocolate is.
Tuesday, January 24, 2012
Cookies and the Recession
Today I read proof that for whatever gains the country's economy has made, the recession isn't quite over.
The Girl Scouts of America has announced that the price of their cookies will be going up to $4.00 a box.
I'm sure I'll buy just as many cookies as I have in years past.
It's important to do our bit to stimulate the economy. It's important to support programs such as Girl Scouts of America, who this year is celebrating 100 years of helping build girls of strong courage, confidence and character. It's vital that such programs exist, empowering girls through enriching experiences, community service, cultural exchanges and environmental stewardships. It's an American Institution. It's a pivotal part of women's history. And yes, I did steal - um, borrow - these phrases from their official website. But I totally agree anyway.
Plus the cookies are yummy.
Not to mention the fact I for one have absolutely no resistance to cute little kids ambushing me the second I step outside a grocery store. All attempts to avoid eye contact with them have proven futile. They're worse than the Borg.
The Girl Scouts of America has announced that the price of their cookies will be going up to $4.00 a box.
I'm sure I'll buy just as many cookies as I have in years past.
It's important to do our bit to stimulate the economy. It's important to support programs such as Girl Scouts of America, who this year is celebrating 100 years of helping build girls of strong courage, confidence and character. It's vital that such programs exist, empowering girls through enriching experiences, community service, cultural exchanges and environmental stewardships. It's an American Institution. It's a pivotal part of women's history. And yes, I did steal - um, borrow - these phrases from their official website. But I totally agree anyway.
Plus the cookies are yummy.
Not to mention the fact I for one have absolutely no resistance to cute little kids ambushing me the second I step outside a grocery store. All attempts to avoid eye contact with them have proven futile. They're worse than the Borg.
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