Teaching history by using fiction (novels, plays, movies) as a means of introducing topics has always interested me; the author of this piece I stumbled across on Commonplace, Sara L. Schwebel, makes the additional point that depending on when a piece of historical fiction was written, unpacking the book (or screenplay, etc.) itself can also be a historical exercise:
Amos Fortune, Free Man - New Uses for a Children's Classic
[I also think it's interesting that I rather liked this piece, although it's not all that original or mind-blowing, and one on the study/memory of the War of 1812 in Canada in the same issue, and neither appear to have any comments - are all the historians on summer vacation???]
Also, I should probably read Amos Fortune, since I never have. And I should probably re-read The Witch of Blackbird Pond, since it's great. More to the point, both Harvard copies are checked out right now, and I really don't want to call a copy back since I a) am trying not to bring any new books into the apt right now and b) don't want to be a jerk, but I would like to read Schwebel's book, Child-Sized History: Fictions of the Past in U.S. Classrooms (2011).
Showing posts with label children's books. Show all posts
Showing posts with label children's books. Show all posts
Thursday, August 9, 2012
Wednesday, April 11, 2012
One for the hope chest...
So, "the hope chest" is the list I have on here of awesome children's books I want to make sure I have for my children and grandchildren (and nieces and nephews and "godchildren"). And one that I don't think is on there yet, but absolutely must be, is Gentleman Bear by William Pène du Bois.
Last night I was talking to M(2) about old Olympics, and track and field - that is to say, he was talking about track and field at past Olympics, and I waited semi-patiently for him to wrap up what he was saying and then said "I had a book when I was a kid about a teddy bear that went to the Olympics and Hitler shook his hand and he was NOT HAPPY." And then was off and running on the fantasticness of this sweet, whimsical book about an upper class English boy (or, as I pointed out, the only kind of person where you have the money and history to tolerate whimsical weirdness) who is never separated from his teddy bear, who is always dressed in matching outfits. They go off to boarding school, and university, the Berlin Olympics, and fly in the R.A.F. in World War II. They get married (not to each other, obviously), and raise a family. And it's so cute! And the pictures suit it perfectly.
I was dismayed to see, when I pulled up the GoodReads entry on my blackberry at the bar last night, that it's apparently no longer in print, and crappy old copies are being sold for next to nothing. Gentleman Bear is such a great book, it should be in higher demand - although I suppose I can see how it has virtually no relevance to virtually any child today. But relevance is not always the point. In this case, it's just a nice, funny book with good pictures.
Honestly, I am pretty sure that the book stayed on my bookcase at least through grad school (hey - it's skinny, it doesn't take up much room, and it was on a bottom shelf - with all the old National Geographics I couldn't bear to throw away), which means it's in one of the more recently packed boxes in my dad's house, just waiting to be put back on the shelves once I get around to repainting the walls. So I probably don't even really need to put it on the Hope Chest list, but then again - out of sight is out of mind, and I don't want to forget this one.
Last night I was talking to M(2) about old Olympics, and track and field - that is to say, he was talking about track and field at past Olympics, and I waited semi-patiently for him to wrap up what he was saying and then said "I had a book when I was a kid about a teddy bear that went to the Olympics and Hitler shook his hand and he was NOT HAPPY." And then was off and running on the fantasticness of this sweet, whimsical book about an upper class English boy (or, as I pointed out, the only kind of person where you have the money and history to tolerate whimsical weirdness) who is never separated from his teddy bear, who is always dressed in matching outfits. They go off to boarding school, and university, the Berlin Olympics, and fly in the R.A.F. in World War II. They get married (not to each other, obviously), and raise a family. And it's so cute! And the pictures suit it perfectly.
I was dismayed to see, when I pulled up the GoodReads entry on my blackberry at the bar last night, that it's apparently no longer in print, and crappy old copies are being sold for next to nothing. Gentleman Bear is such a great book, it should be in higher demand - although I suppose I can see how it has virtually no relevance to virtually any child today. But relevance is not always the point. In this case, it's just a nice, funny book with good pictures.
Honestly, I am pretty sure that the book stayed on my bookcase at least through grad school (hey - it's skinny, it doesn't take up much room, and it was on a bottom shelf - with all the old National Geographics I couldn't bear to throw away), which means it's in one of the more recently packed boxes in my dad's house, just waiting to be put back on the shelves once I get around to repainting the walls. So I probably don't even really need to put it on the Hope Chest list, but then again - out of sight is out of mind, and I don't want to forget this one.
Tuesday, September 28, 2010
The Girl Who Was Disappointed
So, finished the third Stieg Larsson mystery the other day, The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest, and I have to say - I just don't get it. The books are fine, but the world-wide frenzy for them? Really? And this one was probably the weakest - there wasn't even an actual mystery, really, it's just part two (the wrap-up) part, of the mysteries from The Girl Who Played With Fire. Interesting, but not gripping. Played is the best, in my opinion, but I really think the trilogy is actually a duo: The Girl Who Kicked the Hornet's Nest and then a two-volume sequel, which for some reason was published with two titles given to the two parts. But I would not consider Kicked to have any credibility as a stand-alone, and maybe it's not supposed to be, but for something as hyped-up as this series, it should be.
But "Steig" makes me think of William Steig, author of such classics as Doctor De Soto
and Sylvester and the Magic Pebble
, so that's good...
Obviously, I've read all three now, so I don't hate them. I rather enjoyed The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo when I first read it (was it years ago, now?) and the same for Played, but it's always been a casual kind of thing. Certainly I waited until I could get my hands on a library copy to read Kicked - I will, and do, spend a hell of a lot of money on books, but not on this one. Not even if the mass market paperback had come out right away, and that's saying a lot.
On the other hand, just started Room, by Emma Donoghue, this morning on the bus, and am so impressed. I guess I "could" put it down, in so far as I had to, when my boss walked into the office, but I didn't want to - I think I actually felt a physical ache as it left my hands. I can absolutely see why it was shortlisted for the Booker prize.
But "Steig" makes me think of William Steig, author of such classics as Doctor De Soto
and Sylvester and the Magic Pebble, so that's good...Obviously, I've read all three now, so I don't hate them. I rather enjoyed The Girl With the Dragon Tattoo when I first read it (was it years ago, now?) and the same for Played, but it's always been a casual kind of thing. Certainly I waited until I could get my hands on a library copy to read Kicked - I will, and do, spend a hell of a lot of money on books, but not on this one. Not even if the mass market paperback had come out right away, and that's saying a lot.
On the other hand, just started Room, by Emma Donoghue, this morning on the bus, and am so impressed. I guess I "could" put it down, in so far as I had to, when my boss walked into the office, but I didn't want to - I think I actually felt a physical ache as it left my hands. I can absolutely see why it was shortlisted for the Booker prize.
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