1996 - The Midwife's Apprentice

I try not to judge a book by its cover, but how could you look at the cover of The Midwife's Apprentice and not instantly know that you would LOVE this book? Illustrated in the style of the Renaissance Dutch masters, a young woman in a starched and pleated wimple looks out at you with a kind face, secretive smile, and eyes that have seen hardship. She is grinding herbs in a mortar while an orange tabby cat rests one paw on the pestle.

We are introduced to Beetle in the first page, sleeping in a composting dung heap to keep from freezing to death over the cold night. This is during the days of villages and superstitions, saints and devils, market fairs and no safety nets for orphan children. She is discovered by the local midwife, who pulls her out of the heap and away from the taunting village boys, not out of kindness, but because she accepts Beetle's offer to work for her for bread to eat. This is the midwife, and she needs a young, strong helper, hungry and willing to work hard.

The midwife is not a particularly nice person, not very nice at all, but we have to live within those times as we read the book, and go along with Beetle's happy acceptance of food, a place to sleep, and a purpose in life.

And Beetle does come to find her own place in life. A major turning point for how she begins to see herself and value herself is when she changes her name from Brat, and Beetle, to a regular name.

She is not a super-strong powerful clever girl. She is very normal, and many would identify with her halting efforts for confidence and courage, which bring their rewards in the end.

The Midwife's Apprentice is written by Karen Cushman. I bought this school library book discard at the thrift store for under a dollar.

1960 - Onion John

Finally I couldn't put off reading this book any more. It did not seem like it would be that interesting to me, and sure enough, it wasn't! In fact, I couldn't wait to get finished with it. I skimmed at times, thinking, Get on with it!

Onion John, written by Joseph Krumgold in 1959, is on the surface a story about a boy's relationship with the local eccentric, "Onion John," so called because he is fond of eating raw onions. But gradually you realize the real relationship being explored is the one between the boy, Andy, and his dad, a hardware store owner who never got over his unrealized dreams of going to MIT and becoming an engineer. He is unrelenting in trying to slot Andy into fulfilling his own lost chances.

I found the interaction between Andy and his father the most interesting part of the plot, but that is only developed in the latter part of the book. The rest is taken up by lots and lots of Onion John's eccentricities, his bizarre customs and superstitions he performs to ensure good luck and fertility to the town of Serenity. Andy, as the only one who can understand what he is saying, is his main helper, to the dismay of his father, who harps on him about maintaining a scientific mind.

The details of the incantations, fasts, marches, smokes, and gestures were tedious to me. I couldn't warm up to Onion John. I couldn't get a clear picture of Andy's friends, or any of the other folks of Serenity. The tale is told in the first person, Andy's voice. I can't say why the telling didn't really appeal, even though I do like first person. I think it was because it seemed to be told in the perspective of Andy's present, but it seemed, at the same time, to be an older, wiser voice, more adult.

I bought this book at Goodwill for $1.49. It has the markings that show it was a school book, with a level of 4.5 and AR points of 8.0.

1998 Honor - Ella Enchanted

 

I saw the movie made of this fine Newbery-recognized book several years ago. At the time I was unaware that it was a book, much less a Newbery book, until my daughter told me, who was very knowlegeable about such things. That intrigued me, and I've sort of had it in the back of my mind to read it and see how it compared next to the movie. The question, as it always is, is how do you potray the workings of the mind of the character to an audience who can only see what is played out in fron of them? Add to it that this book is told in the first person, and you will see how hard that might be.

Ella has been enchanted since the day she was born by a mischevous fairy who gave her the "gift" of obedience. So everything that Ella is told to do, she must obey. But obey orders not only from her parents, but anyone else also. Thankfully, she is also under the compulsion to not tell anyone about her gift, lest she let it slip and let some random person have power over her. Meanwhile Ella and her confidant, the cook are trying to think up ways to break the spell.

The major conflict is set up early in the book- the mother dies, the rather cold-hearted father remarries, and one of her boorish stepsisters realizes Ella's little problem and takes advantage of it.

Yes, this is a Cinderella tale, but with enough plot turns and extras to make it an interesting read.

Ella is forced to do some unpleasant things, and because we see into her thoughts, the reader can understand her anquish and robot-like need to comply with orders. Most of what I remember from the movie is Anne Hathaway getting a blank, dumb look on her face as she quickly complies with any orders, so we know she isn't doing it on her own volition. I understand that, but it shows me that, indeed, "The book is better."

In spite of Ella's handicap of obedience, she is a strong female character, and I would recommemd it to girls looking for that sort of heroine.

I bought this book at Goodwill for $1.49.

 

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1948 - The Twenty-One Balloons

I have to say that The Twenty-One Balloons, written by William Pene du Bois, although amusing at times, is unlikely to be a book that I shall re-read at a future date. I enjoy both plot driven and character driven stories. But this is a strange little piece that seems to be not much of either. It is written in an oddly stilted style, as if it had been translated like The Little Prince, or as if it were an attempt at a writing style from the late 1800's, during which time this tale takes place. It's not written badly, but it contributes to me feeling detached from the characters and the story.

Professor Sherman has just been fished out of the ocean, and the world is dying to know what his adventures have been since he set off in a little house set with hydrogen balloons with plans to take a sabbatical and stay aloft for a year. He will not say a word until he is able to share his story with the Western American Explorers Club in San Francisco. Of course this sets the country into an frenzy of curiosity, and he is delivered posthaste to the club, with all the fanfare of a hero's welcome.

Oddly, the author follows little rabbit trails among the non-essential details of the preparations for the celebration, the miniature colorful hydrogen balloons that are arranged along the boulevard, the children who snag a couple and play with them until the game goes awry, the dome of the Explorers building that floats away carried by decorative balloons, becoming a hut for a Native American Indian chief. Finally, we come to the part we've been waiting for, Professor Sherman's lecture.

He begins his story to the enthralled audience.

The balloon adventure goes wrong near the outset, and he crash lands on the island of Krakatoa. To his surprise, it is inhabited by a group of Americans who have set up a little hidden paradise there. They haven't "gone native;" to the contrary, they have transplanted their customs, dress, fashions, culinary favors, and architecture to the jungle island. And they have improved these, in a steampunkish sort of way. There is a hidden source of treasure on the island, so no one has to worry about money. There is a lot of utopia fantasy in the story of the lives of the Krakatoans, which makes up the bulk of the book. They share in common, devote a lot of their lives to pleasure, fine dining, amusements, recreation, and for some, invention.

Of course, it all ends when the volcano explodes. and if this were a plot driven book, there would be excitement, danger, close calls. If this were a character driven book, you'd see the Krakatoans realize how shallow their lives had become, being cut off from the rest of humanity; they would be come flesh and blood, not the paper dolls whose well-laid plans for escaping disaster nicely come about.

I think this book would be most enjoyable to the young readers who enjoy letting their imaginations be taken on different turns with odd, far-fetched inventions that somehow seem like they COULD work, without letting a story get in the way.

I bought this book at Goodwill for $1.49.

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1932 - Waterless Mountain

When a book about another culture is written, you want to know that the writer speaks with some authority. If the novel is about a farming family, you want to know that the farm things are accurate. If the story takes place in Australia, you want to know the author has either been there or has done good research. If the tale is about the Navajo Indians of the American Southwest, especially if the tale involves the philosophy and spiritual life of the people, you want someone like Laura Adams Armer, the author of Waterless Mountain.

Laura Adams Armer spent the last half of her life learning about the Navajos, spending time on the reservation, painting and drawing the beauty she found there, studying their folk lore and psychology. She was granted the unprecedented right to draw and paint their sacred sand paintings before they were ceremonially destroyed. And this knowledge helped her write a book so heavily immersed in the Navajo spiritual life without drifting into "roll your eyes sentimentality and mystical-ness."

Waterless Mountain is written contemporary with the time, which means no evil US soldiers massacring women and children, no Indian tribes raiding settler's cabins. Elder Brother likes to hunt with a gun, Younger Brother enjoys his skill with a bow and arrow. They ride ponies and herd sheep; an occasional roadster or automobile shows up. Mother weaves rugs and blankets; Father is a silversmith.

One way to describe this book is as the coming-of-age tale for Younger Brother. He knows he is destined to be a medicine man, like Uncle. He sees meaning and significance in the small things that happen around him, and he has insights and visions that set him a little apart from the more earthly-minded members of his family. The gentle and respectful handling of Younger Brother's spiritual communication with his world by the author is to be greatly commended. However, the book's timespan of Younger Brother's growing-up makes it hard to focus on one or two prime events or crises that cause revelation and change. In fact, there aren't many cliffhangers in this book.

I really enjoyed the fine details of Younger Brother's life at home on the sheep ranch with his family, washing their hair with the suds of the yucca root, cooking a 15' diameter corn cake in a ground pit for a ceremony, taking his first visit to the trading post. I can accept the inevitable bit of patronizing that is present in a book of this type, written by a white person. I felt like I gained understanding of the spiritual heart of the Navajo. But what I found myself dissatisfied with was the lack of a standard novel structure, you know, where the main person gets in danger and escapes a few times, and then the Big Moment comes where things hang in the balance, and anything could happen, and then it is resolved, either making you happy or reflective or angry at the author for letting you down in what you WANTED to happen. I found myself ready for the book to end several chapters before it really did.

If you enjoy books of Plains Indian children, one of my very favorite books is Chi-Wi, written by Grace Moon at about the same era. It is charming, well-written, exciting, and has all the right elements for a great book.

Waterless Mountain is a library book that I checked out.

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1925 - Tales From Silver Lands

 

Tales From Silver Lands is one of the earlier Newbery Award books. Over the years, the world changes, children change, meaningful topics that people care about change, leading authors to find new topics to write about, but one thing that never changes, and that is the love of a good myth or fairy tale.

When I was a kid, I read every collection of fairy tales in our little library. My children were the same. We came across books of Japanese fairy tales, Irish, English, and Russian fairy tales. Many contained the same basic stories, only altered in some way to reflect that society. It was always fun to come across one that was new and fresh to me, totally different from any standard tale or origin myth. Tales From Silver Lands was like this.

Charles Finger, the author of Tales From Silver Lands, traveled around South America, the continent of the "silver lands," collecting tales from the Indians he met there. He mentions some of the countries there; Uraguay, Honduras, Tierra del Fuego, Guiana, Brazil, and the area around Cape Horn. He presents himself as a wanderer in the area, sometimes with a companion, happening upon an individual or coming upon a small village. And there is always a story that is handed to him, as a gift of hospitality is given to a stranger who appears and is welcomed.

The telling of the story is oral --never mind the fact that the words are printed up in this old hard-bound, well-worn library book. Mr. Finger tells us about how he rode into a little town on his donkey, how he lingered over into the evening because the day was hot and the people companionable. And he tells us how the old woman was persuaded to tell him the story of When the Rat had a Tail Like a Horse. Then he lets her words come through his pen and to our ears.

These tales are fun and mysterious. I think the one that caught my fancy the most is "The Cat and the Dream Man." The cat is sinister. Even from the beginning, when all creatures were created harmless; the jaguar did not hunt, the snake had no venom, the bushes had no thorns-- "the cat was of evil heart and unmerciful and a curse to the world, for she went about teaching creatures to scratch and to bite, to tear and to kill, to hide in shady places and leap out on unsuspecting things." The cat is dealt with, bound by a wise man, but even the wise man can not account for the worst mischief of the cat, the fox-faced man who is the cat's dream that walks among the men.

Witches are prevalent in the stories here, and though they are not universally horrid like the European tales, most are. They are clever and very strong. When a male is the villain, he is usually a stupid giant or monster. A person could ponder on that one for awhile.

This is a wonderful collection of tales that could still be read and enjoyed today. It looks like is has been reprinted recently, so there is a chance I might actually come across it to buy for my own collection.

 

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1943 - Adam of the Road

The other day I swung by the library, and while I was there skimmed through the aisle of youth fiction, scanning for Newbery Award books. Handily, the spines display the ribbon logo and description "Newbery Award," so it's easy to pick them out. I selected a few that I was unfamiliar with and might not come across in the thrift stores. One of these was Adam of the Road, by Elizabeth Janet Gray.

Adam is an 11 year old minstrel boy, the son of a minstrel. He's been left with the monks at the Abbey of St. Alban for a bit of schooling while his father is on the road. The year is 1294, and Adam is not-so-patiently waiting for the return of Roger, his father, so they can be together again. He sings and plays his harp, turns cartwheels and practices other tricks to get the attention of folks who would be inclined to give an ear to the stories and songs of the wandering minstrel. Soon enough, Roger comes to collect Adam, having left him alone with us just long enough for us to get to know him a little bit and find out the four things that matter the most to him in the world: his dog, Nick, his father, Roger, his best friend, Perkin, and his craft, minstrelsy.

There is nothing astounding or hard to believe about the plot of Adam of the Road; Adam loses some of the ones he loves the best and must find them and be reunited. But that is actually a strength of this book. There are no special effects, i.e. faeries and magic, or overly dramatic plot lines, i.e. murder, evil and fanatical monks, to distract one from following along Adam's journey and marveling at the different world of 1294. The reader can settle down into the world of the early English middle ages with some of the best descriptions and evocative details of that era I have come across in children's literature. This work is a fine example of "show it, don't tell it" in writing. Adam experiences the roasted capon, the smells of London, his worn out leather shoes, the silky feel of Nick's coat, and the reader experiences it also.

The pen and ink illustrations by Robert Lawson are detailed and charming.

I especially enjoyed understanding just what a minstrel's lot was. He had a right of entrance, to offer his entertainment to the occupants. I realized how the people must have appreciated the skills of a minstrel. There were no movies, folks usually couldn't read, the church was the source of most community music. And people really appreciated "the right sort of minstrel."

I liked this part, I quote, when Roger and Adam stopped at an inn for the night. Roger was performing the story of Murray the king and his son Horn.

"When he reached the fight between Horn and the pagan knight, he stopped in the middle of the sentence. 'Good friends,' he said, 'give me some reward for my art, and I will continue.' Adam snatched off his cap and went with it from one to another. One merchant put in one silver penny; the other hesitated, but when Adam made Nick stand up and ask for it, he laughed and threw in a penny."

Toward the end, I became so impatient for Adam to find what he was looking for, I was tempted to rush, but I made myself slow down, to stay in that world a little longer.

 

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