Tuesday, January 29, 2013

Module Two...Howliday Inn AND Little Women


Howliday Inn by James Howe
Howliday Inn by James Howe
Illustrated by Lynn Munsinger

Howe, J.  (1982).  Howliday Inn.  New York:  Aladdin Paperbacks.

Summary:
Harold, the family dog, and Chester, his feline housemate are shipped off to Chateau Bow-wow while their family goes on vacation.  Almost instantly mysterious things begin to happen.  The veterinarian, who owns the Chateau, goes on vacation leaving two very overworked part time workers in charges.  Harold and Chester, along with the Chateau’s other borders (Louise, a high strung poodle; Max, the bulldog; Taxi, a mutt; an overly friendly poodle names Georgette; two dachshunds named Heather and Howard and a cat named Lyle).  Because the two part time workers are stressed they end up losing and misplacing items, like Howard’s file and then late Louise and Chester end up missing.  Thinking the Chateau is cursed the animals begin searching for the lost animals.  They soon discover that one of the two part time workers, a boy by the name of Harrison is attempting to kidnap the two dachshunds because they are both a rare kind of dachshunds and he wants to sell them in an attempt to be rich by his twenty-first birthday.  Harrison is discovered kidnapping the dogs with help from Howard and the other dogs.

Impressions:
I think this is a charming and heartwarming book but also clever and funny with a dash of mystery.  While I wish I had heard of these books when I was younger, I am glad I have found them now.  I will defiantly be reading them all.  The books make light of the mystery genre but also maintaining respect for it. 

Reviews:  
Spiegler, Jerry, and Pamela D. Pollack. 1982. "Howliday Inn (Book)." School Library Journal 28, no. 10: 117. Library, Information Science & Technology Abstracts with Full Text, EBSCOhost (accessed January 29, 2013).

Howliday Inn is a satire of the whodunit genre.  Howe’s a wry, tongue-in-cheek prose neatly fits cohorts Harold (dog) and Chester (cat) as the two play their roles as the odd couple of the pet world.  While awaiting the return of the Monroe family from a motoring vacation, Harold and Chester meet the eccentric guests at Dr. Greenbriar’s boarding kennel, the Chateau Bow-Wow.  Dog and cat immediately become involved in bizarre happenings while eerie midnight noises disturb their slumber (hence the novel’s title).  Of course, smug Chester coolly solves the “crimes” while befuddled Harold gropes for some understanding, which neither he nor readers gain until it’s all neatly and painlessly explained in the end.  Munsinger’s line drawings add an entertaining touch to the mystery while effectively bringing the comedic to life.  The story may be a bit long for some but the repartee between the adroit, sophistic-cat and the dog is hilarious.  Another hit from the author of Bunnicula. 

Bennett, Priscilla. 1985. "Howliday Inn (Music recording)." School Library Journal 31, no. 6: 57. Library, Information Science & Technology Abstracts with Full Text, EBSCOhost (accessed January 29, 2013).

This adaptation of the Howliday Inn is done by the author, James Howe.  It is the tale of the sojourn of the Monroe family pets in the kennel called Chateau Bow Wow.  Intrigue, mysterious message, missing animals and night howling prompt Chester the cat to rename the kennel, Howliday Inn.  Much of the humor of the story is based on its parody of a mystery novel.  A radio mystery theater format heightens this humor with music, sound effects, dramatic cast and especially the voice of Lou Jacobi as Harold, the dog.  The recording is too long for primary graders, but is a good choice for elementary students.  It will be popular with Howe fans in school and public libraries. 
Library use:
This book is a wonderful tool to be used in many ways in a library setting.  It can be included in a mystery portion of any display but especially for children.  It can also be used in a supernatural display.  Books about supernatural creatures are big right now and this book would be a great one to offer children. 



Little Women by Louisa May Alcott
Illustrated by Louisa May Alcott

Alcott, L.  (1868).  Little Women.  New York:  Dover Publications.

Synopsis: This is the story of the March girls, Meg, Jo, Beth and Amy, a family living in the war torn Massachusetts during the American Civil War.  Their father is a chaplain in the War.  The story begins with the girls receiving a letter from their father, which raises their spirits since they had been complaining about the loss of money.  The girls think they are poor when in fact they are better off then some of their neighbors.  The book navigates through the lives of the girls and their relationships with the men in their lives all set against the backdrop of the Civil War.  Jo and Beth believe they are in love with the same man, Laurie.  In the end, Beth dies and he marries Amy, another sister.

Response:  I have had this book my entire life and have never read it.  I have never seen any of the movie adaptations of the book, either.  The book is melodramatic and I find the girls a little bit spoiled, but the love triangle (love square?) keep the pace moving.  I will probably read it again and I may even see one of the movies.

Reviews:

Rose, E.  (2012, July 24).  Review Little Women.  Living on Literary Lane.  Retrieved from http://www.literarylane.com/2012/07/book-review-little-women-by-louisa-may.html  

My Thoughts: Oh my, where to begin? This splendid book is overflowing with heartwarming tales of family life, making do in the midst of poverty, and working through life's hardships together. We hear of the classic incident in which Jo burns Meg's hair, Beth's special gift from old Mr. Laurence, Amy's twenty-four delicious pickled limes (she ate one on the way to school), various plays put on by the four girls, meetings of The Pickwick Society, and Jo's disastrous luncheon. At the end of each chapter, Marmee is there to help the girls rejoice in their triumphs and learn from their mistakes. When Marmee leaves to tend to an ill Father in Washington, the girls take up their additional responsibilities with good will, desiring to do all they can to help.

Each girl has something which endears her to her readers. Meg is kind, helpful, and motherly, wanting to be married with plenty of little children. Jo is a flighty soul and a wonderful writer, with a "quick temper, sharp tongue, and restless spirit." Sweet Beth, "Little Faithful," is a dear, shy character, and though not quite as relatable due to her seeming lack of faults, will quickly find her way to your heart. And what of Amy? Amy, the talented, the beautiful, the artistic, the would-be fashion plate if she didn't have to wear hand-me-downs. She provides a great deal of comic relief within the pages, although I fear she would swiftly grow irritating if released into the real world. There are scores of other wonderful characters, including mischievous Laurie, gruff but kindly Mr. Laurence, studious Mr. Brooke, and Hannah, the Marches' dear housekeeper-turned-family-member, but I would go on for hours if allowed to discuss each individually. You'll just have to read the book. :)

Part II takes a more concise and serious tone than the former, dwelling on the four girls as they become grown women. There are marriages, trips, and touches of tragedy, making the stories more solemn and mature. Though just as well-written and humorous as Part I, I prefer the stories about when the girls are younger and still living at home together.

Pros: One of the most wholesome and wonderful books for girls that I have ever read. It is engaging, entertaining, wonderful, and yet refuses to include a smidgen of language, violence, or inappropriate content. The romance is portrayed in a manner that is clean, but still very sweet. In addition, the girls are portrayed so realistically that you feel as if they are real — no stiff dialogue here! I'd recommend Little Women to anyone.

Cons: Though Christians, the girls' faith seems to be based more on good works than true faith in a Savior. They speak of God in more Deistic terms, as if He were a Being who set the earth in motion, but did not necessarily intervene in the lives of men afterwards. Meg refers to Heaven as "a [lovely] country . . . where we shall go by-and-by, when we are good enough." This makes no mention of accepting Jesus' saving grace, but of relying on one's own works to get into Heaven.

Norcott-Mahany, B.  (2011, December 4).  Classic Review: Little Women by Louisa May Alcott.  The Kansas City Public Library.  http://www.kclibrary.org/blog/kc-unbound/classic-review-little-women-louisa-may-alcott
Your classics reviewer got to this book in a rather roundabout way. I made the decision to review this title after I had bought my Nook this past January. But first, I had watched two film productions of Little Women (one with Katherine Hepburn, the other with June Allyson as Jo) on TCM.
My wife was puzzled as to why I was watching not just one, but two versions of Little Women. I pointed out my fondness for remakes and explained that to appreciate (or hate) the remake, you have to see the original. She shook her head in dismay and left to watch a different Christmas movie (I think it was Die Hard) elsewhere in the house.
And then, when I got my Nook, I noticed that it had three titles already loaded, one of which was Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women. I figured it was fate, and you can’t fight fate, and so it became my December book this year. Another reason for reading: the book starts as the March women get ready for their first Christmas without Mr. March, making it a suitable holiday title.
My interest in Louisa May Alcott extends beyond her work as an author. Her father, Amos Bronson Alcott, was one of the group of New England thinkers called the Transcendentalists, and he was a rather-forward thinking proponent of education.
In Alcott’s school (the Temple School in Boston) there was no corporal punishment of children (keep in mind this was the 1840s, when corporal punishment was the norm).  Rather, he blamed himself if a child failed to understand something and was known to put his own hand out to be struck by the children. He was also opposed to rote learning, also the norm of the day, choosing rather to use the Socratic method in his teaching. 
After the Temple School failed (it lost many of its students when Mr. Alcott chose to retain an African-American student in the school), he co-founded a commune called Fruitlands. 
The spirit of radical reform was exhibited by others in Louisa May’s family.  Her maternal uncle,Samuel Joseph May, minister of the Church of the Messiah in Syracuse, New York (later known as May Memorial) was one of the leading abolitionists of the day.  Her parents and other of her relatives were also prominent in the fight for women’s rights and women’s suffrage. 
So, you can see why I was attracted to Louisa May Alcott: she was a wild feminist, and part of a crazy hippie family – back in the 19th century before it became fashionable.
Well, I didn’t quite find the wild feminism nor crazy hippiedom in the book (and was pretty sure I wouldn’t, having seen the two film versions already). But what I did see I found fascinating and quite entertaining. There was some of Alcott’s educational idealism in the book. When one of the March girls, Amy, is ridiculed in class by a teacher, Mrs. March quietly but vehemently expresses her disapproval of the teacher’s tyranny, arguing that reason and kindness are better teachers than scorn. And Jo herself practices some of that reason and kindness when she serves as governess and later manages, along with her husband, a school for boys. 
The book is a Bildungsroman of the four March sisters, Meg, Jo, Amy and Beth, all the time watched over by their kind and wise mother (called Marmee by all). If you’ve seen any of the movies, you will expect it to be a book of the home front during the Civil War – the women having to make it on their own with father away in the war.
This is only about half of the first half of the book; the entire book covers a period of about seven years (the book begins at Christmas of 1861, and ends in about 1868, the year the book was first published). The second half of the book features the four girls as they face adulthood and adult responsibilities. That, I found ever so more interesting.
As I got ready to read the second part, I wondered how a 19th c. feminist author would approach the whole question of the conditioning of girls to become women? Would she frankly address how society’s conditioning aims at largely limiting women to the roles of wife and mother? Or would the second half keep the fairy tale, “One Day My Prince Will Come” approach so common to girls’ lit? I found the answer a bit complicated.
Alcott does not make a frontal assault on the whole system of patriarchal society, but she does suggest other options. First, Jo, though she is happy to marry Prof. Bhaer, would not be happy solely being wife and mother. Rather she embarks on the path of experiential learning with the Professor. Interestingly, the school she and the professor set up is for boys only. So though the school is new and unconventional (just like her dad’s Temple School), only boys will benefit, not girls. 
Second, Meg, the eldest, is quite happy to be wife and mother, but she soon finds herself subsumed into the role and very unhappy, so that Marmee needs to do an intervention.  Only by giving up on the whole Supermom idea, and letting her husband take his own share of the household burden, can the marriage work and the young couple be happy.  Here too, of course, Marmee couches the matter in terms of Meg being a supportive wife to her husband – in other words, it’s his world, and she must live within that world.  But Marmee is not in favor of her girls being passive in such a world. 
Third, Amy, the most conventional of the girls, with dreams of a rich and handsome prince rescuing her from a life of poverty, ends up turning down the pleasant rich young man she figured could give her material comfort and to whom she could be a pleasant trophy wife.  Instead, she marries for love (admittedly she marries another rich man – their neighbor, Laurie) and she gains an authority she did not have as a girl. She provides a strong counterpoint to her husband, and inspires in him an ambition all thought quite alien to the witty and charming, but rather lazy, boy. 
My biggest shock in reading the book (SPOILER ALERT) is that Beth, the youngest of the sisters, does not die at 12 or 13, as in the film versions, but lives to young womanhood herself. Saintly Beth, who endures all her suffering with gentle acceptance, is an inspiration for her sisters, and especially for Jo. Though I was happy to see Beth make it to her teens, and maybe a smidgeon beyond, I felt Beth was much too much the poster child for 19th century womanhood – physically weak and dependent on others, taking all with a saintly demeanor. It seems almost as if Louisa May is suggesting that women accept their lot in man’s world and smile, which is tough to take. 
Alcott’s novel was a break-away hit when it came out, and made her and her idealistic, but impractical, father secure for life. They continued to fight for their ideals, including women’s rights. This book shows, and its popularity seems to endorse the idea, that women must fight for their rights only so far, and only so hard, so that Louisa May Alcott, feminist, finds herself unable to break through the patriarchal cocoon of her time. 
Library Use:  This is a great example of historical fiction and can be used in a display on this.  It is also a great companion to Jane Austen's works, and the Anne Shirley books by Lucy Maude Montgomery.

Sunday, January 20, 2013

Module One...The Giving Tree.



The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein
Illustrated by Shel Silverstein

Silverstein, S.  (1964).  The Giving Tree. New York:  Harper & Row.

Summary:
The Giving Tree follows a tree and the boy she loves.  The book begins with the young boy and the interaction between the tree and the boy.  He climbs the tree, eats its apples, uses his leaves to make things with, and sleeps under the tree.  All of this makes the tree happy.  Happy to give everything to the boy.  But grows up and only comes to see the tree when he needs something.  The tree gives the boy want he thinks he needs to be happy:  she gives her apples to sell, her limbs to build a house, her trunk to build a boat with.  It isn't until the end of the boy's life that he comes to appreciate  the tree like he did when he was a child.

Impressions:
There are many ways this book could be broken down.  Obviously the book can be seen as a story of the unconditional and unselfish love between a mother (or father) and her (or his) child.  The parent give everything they had to ensure the child is happy, even if it is not the best thing for the child.  That was my first thought after reading this book.  After thinking about the book for a while, I drew the connection between the book and human's relationships with the earth.  We take and take but, until recently, we didn't really give back.  In some cases, it is too late to give back and all we have are a bunch of stumps to rest upon.  We say we love the earth, just as the boy loves the tree, but we only love it for what it can give us.  We show it no love in return.

Reviews:

Bird, Elizabeth.  "Top 100 Picture Books #85: The Giving Tree by Shel Silverstein."  School Library Journal, May 18, 2012.
Somebody’s moving up in the world.  At last count Silverstein’s most divisive book was low at #93.  Now it has climbed the ranks to a respectable #85. And there we have it.  One of the most divisive books in children’s literature.  To my mind, you are either a Giving Tree fan or you loathe and abhor it.  My husband is a fan.  In fact, if you get him at a party he will explain at length how subversive the title is, and how Silverstein is playing with the reader and isn’t serious about the tree’s “giving”.  Others prefer to take the book at face value, finding it to be a tale of self-sacrifice and parenthood.  The story, just in case you are unfamiliar with it, is about a tree and the boy it loves.  The boy takes apples, wood, and eventually everything from the tree itself, and it is happy with the process.
It is also notable for this infamous author photo of Mr. Silverstein on the back.  Those of you who read the third Diary of a Wimpy Kid book will remember the passage where Greg’s dad kept him from getting out of bed at night by threatening him with the back of The Giving Tree, telling him Shel Silverstein would get him if he left his room. 

Cole, William.  "About Alice, a Rabbit and a Tree."  New York Times, September 9, 1973, 
"Look Shel," I said, "the trouble with this ‘Giving Tree' of yours is that it falls between two stools; it's not a kid's book -- too sad, and it isn't for adults -- too simple." This was in 1963; I was working at Simon & Schuster; Shel was Shel Silverstein, and the manuscript was "The Giving Tree," which Harper & Row subsequently published, and which has sold over 150,000 copies. Kurt Vonnegut must have some kind of philosophical saying for the way I feel now.

Shel Silverstein first came to prominence as Playboy's roving cartoonist. He published a number of children's books and the outrageous "Uncle Shelby's ABZ Book," and just a few years ago turned up as a songwriter with Johnny Cash's hit "A Boy Named Sue." Even more recently, he had a hit, singing in his own raucous voice his "Freakin' at the Freaker's Ball," and we'll soon see in November a large collection of his poems for children, "Where the Sidewalk Ends."

When I called this paper and said I'd like to do a piece about "The Giving Tree," they said, fine, but would I also look into two other surprise sellers, "The Velveteen Rabbit," and "Go Ask Alice"? Very good.

"The Giving Tree" begins, "Once there was a tree..." (Dots are Shel's) and goes on for 50 more pages with a simple tale, illustrated in graceful cartoon style by the author. There was a boy who played in the tree, gathering its leaves, swinging on its branches, eating its apples. When the boy grew older he lay in the shade of the tree with a girl and carved initials in a heart. Yet older, a young man, he took the tree's branches to build a house. As an old man he needed a boat to get away from it all, so the tree said cut me down and make a boat. So we have a stump. Along comes the boy, now an old, old man, and the ex-tree says, "Come, Boy, sit down. Sit down and rest." And the tree was happy.

My interpretation is that that was one dum-dum of a tree, giving everything and getting nothing in return. Once beyond boyhood, the boy is unpleasant and ungrateful, and I wouldn't give him the time of day, much less my bole. But there's a public out there who think otherwise, and Harper & Row expects to sell another 100,000 this year. And this month they are bringing out a version in French, "L'arbre au Grand Coeur." I called Ursula Nordstrom, who has been Shel's editor at Harper & Row, and asked how this all came about. Ursula, noted for finding and encouraging such artists as Maurice Sendak and Tomi Ungerer, had long ago noted Shel's "simple and direct drawings" in Playboy, and tried to get him to do a book. Shel, the hardest man in the world to pin down, didn't react until Tomi Ungerer said, "Go see Ursula." There was tremendous disagreement in the office over "The Giving Tree," one editor saying "That tree is sick! Neurotic!" They did a small first printing in 1964. Nothing much happened. Then, as Ursula says, "The body twitched". Apparently, it had been taken up by the great word-of-mouth underground with an assist from the pulpits; where it was hailed as a parable on the joys of giving, and from Shel's disk-jockey friends, a strange pairing. The book, to me, is simply a backup of "more blessed to give than to receive." My wife's interpretation, not surprisingly, is that the tree represents a mother, giving and receiving with not expectation of return. Whatever it is, it touches a sensitive point clearly and swiftly, as do other recent phenomena of Segals and seagulls.

Library use:
This book could be used in a display celebrating American authors or in a display celebrating environmentally minded authors.  Recreating the tree in this book on a felt board would be a great way to use this book during story time.  The felt tree could have removable leaves, limbs and apples to represent the stages in which the boy cuts it down.