My Little Lucy Pevensie: A Celebration of International Children's Book Day

When I was young, my mother bought me a beautiful leather bound illustrated edition of Edgar Allan Poe’s Tales of Mystery and Imagination.  I suppose such works might be considered rather dark for an eight-year-old girl, but I devoured and adored those tales.  It was probably this book, more than any other, which made me fall in love with the world of fiction and all its wonderment.  Actually, she bought this book for my brother, and gave me the Arabian Nights, but I preferred Poe, just as I too prefer to tell this story slant.  Regardless of who was truly the recipient of that book, it remains a treasure of mine, and now sits on my bookshelves. 

My brother and I were both avid readers in our youth, sharing all the childhood classics like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis.  She also bought us annotated versions of classic tales such as Moby Dick, Treasure Island, A Tale of Two Cities, Pride and Prejudice, and the like.  It was a charming and appropriately age adapted collection that I was so sad to learn she had donated to Goodwill years ago.  I would have been positively delighted if my children were now able to read those very same editions.  Despite this one disappointment, I cannot possibly thank my mother enough for instilling a love of reading in me.

What was your favorite childhood book?

I believe it is incredibly important that we read to our children, and I have most certainly made this a priority in our household.  As today celebrates International Children’s Book Day, it is an appropriate occasion to reflect upon my own memories with the written word, as I now continue to build a strong adoration of literature in my own two children. 

Although she is only age three, I have already introduced Emily to Tolkien and Lewis.  She was a very attentive audience as I read The Hobbit aloud to her, asking quite insightful questions about the dragon, and continually requesting, “You let me see that map again, Momma,” turning to the front of the book and analyzing the illustrated cover pages, “So this where that dragon live, Momma?”  Only once did she bore of the story and wish to retire to bed early, stating, “No more this Bilbo story!” 

Currently, Emily and I have been reading The Chronicles of Narnia together.  We are on book five of the seven book series.  She will race into bed with me at night and ask, “Can we read some more about Shasta and the horsy, Momma?”  During books two and three, this question was, “Momma, you ready to read to me about Reepicheep?”  Her excitement and enthusiasm over these tales gives me immense delight.

Emily is my little Lucy Pevensie, with a heart and mind full of the wonder of youth and the wisdom of age.  She constantly amazes me, and I wish I could capture her innocent wonder and trust, just as C.S. Lewis captured the valiant traits of Lucy on the pages of his beloved fictional books.  

As you are likely aware, the world of Narnia was also captured on film with the 2005 release of The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, starring Tilda Swinton.  It was this past weekend that I first viewed this film.  My parents had a copy of it among their DVDs and my daughter noticed it and requested to watch “the Aslan movie.”  The film has slightly more exposition than the novel, beginning with scenes of the Second World War, and the Blitz bombings which led to the children’s evacuation to the countryside.  As the scenes rolled across the television screen, Emily informed her grandfather, “Grandpa, I think this the wrong movie.  Where is the magic?  Where is Aslan?”  We told her to be patient, and her beloved Aslan did soon appear, much to her great excitement.  “It’s Aslan!” she squealed in delight, “There he is!”  When the youngest Pevensie first appeared on screen, she eagerly asked, “Is that Lucy?  Lucy is my favorite!” 

Lucy is my favorite too.

As the film closed and the credits began to roll, my daughter looked to my spouse to question, “That’s it, Daddy?  I don’t want this movie done.  Where is Reepicheep? I want to see Reepicheep!”  Reepicheep, the mighty mouse, does not appear until the tales of Prince Caspian in the second book of the series.  However, I found it extremely clever and so deeply endearing that my daughter remembered these characters and made such comments during the film.

While my daughter rules my world and melts my heart on the daily, I did not compose this post merely to brag about what a kick-ass mommy I am and what a “totes-adorb” toddler I have (she is so damn cute, though, you guys). I do not believe or mean to propose that she is a child genius or savant.  I do strongly believe, however, that reading has enhanced her imagination, her academic aptitude, and her whole life.  I know reading has imparted unto me such rich rewards.   A beautiful, bold imagination and a curious, sharp mind are not unattainable skills bestowed only upon the most genetically brilliant.  A child need only to be provided with the offering of reading and he or she can too possess a daring imagination and tireless thirst for knowledge.  Therefore, this post serves as a public service announcement requesting that all parents bequest onto their children the vision, creativity, and ingenuity that are yielded from a love of reading.

 

Go forth and read, my friends!

 

Liz Lemon, I Don't Even Know You Anymore: My Best of 2012

It’s the close of another year, and this means that best of lists and countdowns are popping up all over the place in media – on the internet, magazines, television, radio shows, and the like.  So I decided to jump on the bandwagon and make my own list of the best of 2012 in entertainment – although it very quickly just turned into me bitching about shit.  Imagine that.  All the same, here it is … enjoy.

 

Best Book

You should have known that I was going to rate best book first as I am a total book junkie.  Yes, I like to read … A LOT.  The book I am choosing is somewhat surprising for me because “thrillers” are not typically a genre I get behind.  However, this book intrigued me and received rave reviews from multiple sources.  Add me to those individuals praising Gillian Flynn and Gone Girl.  I admit that Desi was a difficult character to buy into and his role almost bordered on the V.C. Andrews’ work that Amy Elliot Dunne alludes to.  Beyond that, this book was brilliant and will keep the reader gripped to his or her seat, turning page after page until hours have passed without notice.  There are so many lines that had me laughing out loud in their crude, unfiltered honesty and hilarity.  For example, the book begins on the anniversary of Nick and Amy Dunne.  Nick’s twin sister, Go (Margo) inquires about the traditional gift for fifth anniversaries, like paper for year one.  When Nick informs his sister that that the expected gift is wood, and complains over the difficulty of finding a proper wooden gift, his twin offers: “I got it.  Go home, fuck her brains out, then smack her with your penis and scream, ‘There’s some wood for you, bitch!’”  Gone Girl is an amazingly captivating psychological portrait of a miserable, manipulative marital relationship.  The writing is compelling and funny, and damn, I wish I had written so many of these lines.  Read this book. 

 

Best Album

I also love music, and confess that I don’t own an MP3 player, but rather have over 800 compact discs.  I know the refusal to purchase an i-pod seems very strange for a music lover, but I believe in buying whole albums because often the arrangement of the individual songs come together to tell one beautiful story.  This is especially true for my favorite artist, Aimee Mann.  Although Mann came out with a new CD in 2012, which of course I bought, the win isn’t hers.  I am somewhat begrudgingly recognizing the band fun for their album Some Nights.  I didn’t want to like fun because they seemed like total hipster douche-bags when their second studio album burst onto the scene in early 2012.  I am always reluctant to like bands whose rise to popularity is largely driven by advertising, with their single “We are Young” featured in a Chevrolet commercial that first aired during the super bowl.  I initially hated the single because suddenly my high school students were all wearing hipster bright sunglasses inside the school and singing about getting higher than the empire state.  However, the song eventually stuck on me too when I heard it performed acoustically on XM radio.  And then I gave a listen to the whole album and realized how anthemic singles such as “Some Nights” and “Carry On” are.  The vocals and lyrics are brilliant, beautiful, catchy, and authentic rock n’ roll all at the same time.  If you ignore the hipster sunglasses and just listen to the music, it’s undeniably damn good stuff. 

 

Best Television Show

If you know me in real life or follow this blog closely, you probably know that I love Tina Fey and her 30 Rock character Liz Lemon.  So, Tina Fey, I really, truly wanted to recognize you in this category for all of the years that you have brought me joy.  [A brief aside: One time my brother was raving about the show Workaholics on Comedy Central and asked me if I had seen it. I said, “No. I watch 30 Rock.”  He replied, “So, that means you can’t watch other shows?”  When I nodded in affirmation, he yelled, “What the fuck? Are you a sixty-five year old lady? No. No. I can only watch Angela Lansbury and Murder She Wrote. Why are you so fucking weird?”] However, I think that 30 Rock has jumped the damn shark.  Liz’s wedding? Really? She got married in her Princess Lea costume? That makes no sense because Liz knows that is bat shit crazy as she formerly wore the costume to get out of jury duty.  Liz wouldn’t do that! Or, okay, I would never do that and the reason I had always loved Liz Lemon so much in the past is because I found her oddly relatable.  I was Liz Lemon, but I can’t relate anymore.  Therefore, I have moved on to fellow SNL alum Amy Poehler and bestow Parks and Recreation with the great honor of being my best in television for 2012.  This honor really is owed more so to the brilliant Nick Offerman than Poehler, but the whole ensemble works skillfully together and has provided many laughs this past season. Chris Pratt, Aubrey Plaza, Adam Scott, Rob Lowe, Rashida Jones, and the hilarious Aziz Ansari (whose 2012 comedy special Dangerously Delicious also had me cracking up) each contribute wonderfully to a truly terrific sitcom. 

 

Best Music Competition

It’s a sad sign of the times when there’s about three quality sitcoms to choose from, but over a dozen singing competitions because the entertainment industry is too damn tired and lacking to come up with clever, creative, compelling programming.  From those dozens of competitions, I choose The Voice, even though I yell at the screen almost every time I watch this program because I want Christina Aguilera to stop dressing like a god-damnstreet walker.  I once loved American Idol, but when Simon Cowell left, I also stopped viewing this program.  I recognize that Simon is now on the X Factor, but so is Britney Spears and people really just need to stop employing her because she will just waste her earnings on Uggs and cigarettes.  She should not be celebrated anymore.  She stopped being fascinating years ago, and was never talented.  Further, I applaud the concept of The Voice – that you can be one ugly mother fucker, but if you can really sing, you can still make it to top three (see Nicholas David). 

 

Best Movie

My choice for 2012’s best film is Argo.  Confession: I didn’t even see Argo, but I’m going on faith here and bestowing this honor on Ben Affleck.  Personally, I don’t understand the appeal of going to the movies.  It’s too damn expensive, and I have a toddler and infant at home.  I don’t see anything until I can rent it from the Redbox.  So, when I finally do see Argo, I better be validated or I am coming after your ass Affleck – and I have some grudges from Reindeer Games, Jersey Girl, and Forces of Nature too.  Of movies I actually did see this year, I can tell you that Jeff who Lives at Home sucked really bad and was a waste of my life.  I was confused for a whole week afterwards, but not because the plot was so intricate and deeply meaningful.  I just couldn’t understand how such a huge pile of shit was ever made and marketed, but then I remembered that most Americans are fans of Twilight.  Sorry Twilight fans. No. Not really.

 

Let's hear it! What were your favorites in 2012? Who thrilled and who disappointed?  Did you actually see Argo? 

Eat your Broccoli, Read your Books

“Mrs. Ryan, do you know they have us reading banned books here?” a student in study hall inquired.

“Do you mean The Adventures of Huckleberry Finn?” I returned, possessing awareness that this classic was part of the American Literature curriculum, as it continues to be in most school districts.

They nodded, and I continued to speak, “Yes.  That novel has continued to be one of the most banned books of all time since its publication in 1884.  Many people misunderstand the novel and believe it to be a racist text.  However, the novel is a satire and Mark Twain, its author, was actually an abolitionist.  Do you know what those terms mean?”

Before even fully allowing the students at the table time to respond, I began to explain satire.  I only got a few words into my explanation when one of the young females at the table interrupted me to ask, “How do you know so much?”

Just as I had been interrupted in my explanation of satire, I wasn’t given an opportunity to complete a response either as another student had offered one.  “Because she reads books like all the time,” the girl’s friend offered. “Haven’t you ever noticed that?  If she’s not helping us, she’s reading.  I’ve seen her with three different books in one week,” she continued.  I would like to tell you that her tone hinted at envy and applause of my frequent reading.  Rather, her tone seemed to suggest she was disturbed and perplexed by my evident love of literature.

“Oh yeah,” said the male student who first asked me about banned books, “she does always read.”  He said this as though being an avid reader were the equivalent of leprosy.

 

 

I can’t imagine ever having such an attitude towards books.  I get great comfort from being surrounded by those pages of precious words.  When I finally bought a new shelving unit earlier this year, I was exceedingly enthused to fill it up with my volumes of classic literature and contemporary fiction.  I took a photo the instant I completed this task, and proudly posted it on my facebook account.  I was nearly as proud of my books as I am of my babies. 

For those precious babies of mine, reading is already an engrained part of their life.  I hope it is a habit they continue to treasure for all of their lives.  My children both get such joy from having stories told to them, and I try to read them at least one book every single day.  “Book” is one of the first words my daughter said, and she is constantly bringing her Dr. Seuss and Eric Carle books to me asking “Book? Book?” in a request to be read a story.  

Reading is as essential in this household as eating and sleeping.  It’s a requirement of living a good, healthy, well-rounded life.  My children will always know that you are to eat your vegetables, brush your teeth, and read lots and lots of books.  I hope their peers never treat them in the same manner with which these students responded to my regular reading. I want to believe there are still mothers like me out there who are also reading Shakespeare to their infant and toddler children.

Who Wants to "Smash" Virginia Woolf?

Books are not lame.  Books are not for “losers.”  This is what I have been desperately trying to convince my study hall students the whole year.  Many of them often waste their time in study hall, and tell me that they have “nothing” to do.  The school I’m currently employed at does this truly wonderful thing; every Wednesday they spend the last half hour of the day doing recreational reading.  Even the staff is expected to just sit and read a book of choice during this time.  It’s part of the district’s effort to promote literacy in youth.  So, when the students claim they have absolutely nothing to do during study hall, I suggest that they bring their “Wednesday Books” with them.  I typically get the same response: “Books are lame.  Only losers read books.” 

When I hear this, I die a little bit inside.  But, while doing that, I also try fervently to convince the students otherwise – that books are incredible, amazing, compelling – and, furthermore, being well-read makes you really sexy.  So far, they are not buying into my beliefs.  I try to convert them by spouting out multiple quotes about the wonders of reading, which I have committed to memory.  One of my most repeated quotations is as follows: “A reader lives a thousand lives before he dies; the man who never reads lives only one.”

I shared this quote with two male freshmen students today.  One returned, “What the hell? That doesn’t even make sense.”  The other just looked at me, confusion clearly written all over his face.  I explained that a well-written book possesses the ability to make you feel transported to the same time and place of the characters – from Puritan Salem with Arthur Miller to St. Petersburg, Missouri in the 1840s with Tom Sawyer, Huckleberry Finn, and Mr. Mark Twain, and then all the way to the magical, mystical Middle-earth of Tolkien. 

“Yeah, I’m not buying that,” repeated the same male who initially spoke, while the other remained dumbfounded.  “They’re just stupid pieces of paper.” 

“No, no,” I continued with unqualified determination.  “Why, last week I was able to travel to Mumbai, India with the author Shilpi Somaya Gowda.  Earlier this week, I felt like I was right there with the young character Rennie when her small Colorado town became the home of a Japanese internment camp in Sandra Dallas’ novel Tallgrass.  And currently, I’m getting to travel to the past and spend a little bit of time hanging out with the author Virginia Woolf and her artist sister Vanessa Bell in a book by Susan Sellers.”

I  was hoping I had them with this.  Instead, the boy who had previously been mute, offered this: “Hey. I know a chick named Vanessa.”  Then he nudged his buddy in the side and said, “Dude, you know her too.”

“Oh, that Vanessa,” the friend offered, “She’s hot.  I’d smash that.” 

With that, I simply turned and walked away.  I would have to save my raving recommendation of reading for another day.  But you should all know this: Books kick ass!  Winners read.