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Noteworthy and Encouraging: May 29th

Born on May 29th:

Gerald Massey, b. 1828. Poet and amateur Egyptologist.

There’s no dearth of kindness
In this world of ours;
Only in our blindness
We gather thorns for flowers.

Mary Louisa Molesworth, b. 1839. Author of children’s books during the nineteenth century. Known as “Mrs. Molesworth”, her most famous book was The Cuckoo Clock, which I read recently. If you have a child who is a good reader looking for a story about fairies, you might try this one. It doesn’t have much of a plot, not much dramatic tension. Griselda comes to live with her two elderly great-aunts for reasons that are never stated throughout the story. She is sometimes bored and lonely, and the cuckoo from her late grandmother’s cuckoo clock comes to visit and amuse Griselda. Griselda wants the cuckoo to take her to fairyland, but he says that “the way to true fairyland is hard to find, and we must each find it for ourselves.” The cuckoo does take Griselda to some other magical places, and she eventually finds a friend and playmate. Some of the scenes in the book are beautifully described, but as I said, not much happens. I do have a solid library rebound copy of this old book in my library, but my book has illustrations by E.H. Shepard (the illustrator famous for his pictures for Winnie-the-Pooh.)

Eugene Fitch Ware, b. 1841. Kansas poet and politician. “Man builds no structure which outlives a book.”

Charles Francis Richardson, b. 1851. Maine poet and literary historian.
2 John 1:6: And this is love, that we walk according to His commandments. This is the very commandment you have heard from the beginning, that you must walk in love.

If suddenly upon the street
My gracious Saviour I should meet,
And he should say, “As I love thee,
What love hast thou to offer me?”
Then what could this poor heart of mine
Dare offer to that heart divine?

His eye would pierce my outward show,
His thought my inmost thought would know;
And if I said, “I love thee, Lord,”
He would not heed my spoken word,
Because my daily life would tell
If verily I loved him well.

If on the day or in the place
Wherein he met me face to face,
My life could show some kindness done,
Some purpose formed, some work begun
For his dear sake, then it were meet
Love’s gift to lay at Jesus’ feet.

G.K. Chesterton, b. 1874. Author of Orthodoxy, his spiritual autobiography, and many, many other works fiction, essays, and general musings. Chesterton himself was a merry old soul. He weighed over 300 pounds, played the part of the absent-minded professor in his daily life, and enjoyed a beer, a debate, and a nap, but not all at the same time. Nicknamed “The Prince of Paradox,” his verbal gymnastics are sometimes exhausting, usually entertaining, and at the same time full of wisdom and insight into the fallacies of pagan and modern philosophy and into the satisfying rightness of Christian orthodoxy.
The Convert by G.K. Chesterton
A selection of Chesterton’s wisdom.
My reaction to The Man Who Was Thursday by G.K. Chesterton.
More gems (quotes) from Gilbert K.Chesterton.

Terrence Hanbury (T.H.) White, b. 1906. Author of The Once and Future King, White’s version of the Arthurian legends. The musical, Camelot, and the Disney film, The Sword in the Stone, were both based on White’s retelling and embellishment of Sir Thomas Malory’s Le Morte d’Arthur. I have a copy of The Sword in the Stone in my library, but the rest of the story that makes up the four books of The Once and Future King is a bit too dark for children, IMHO.

Noteworthy and Encouraging: May 28th

Born on May 28th:

Thomas Augustine Daly, Philadelphia poet, known for his humorous poems in Irish American and Italian American dialect. He worked as a grocery store clerk and as a cub reporter and developed an ear for immigrant speech. My mom used to quote one of Daly’s poems to us every February 22nd, “Leetla Georgio Washeenton.” In 1924, Daly published the autobiographical story about his large family, Herself and the Houseful; Being the Middling-Mirthful Story of a Middle-Class American Family of More Than Middle Size. It sounds like a good one to track down and read.

Louis Agassiz, b. 1807. Nineteenth century biologist and geologist who believed that the earth was created by God, who also created each species of animal and each “race” of humankind separately. Agassiz has been accused of being racist, but some say he was merely mistaken about his theories in regard to the creation of man. Agassiz is particularly known for advancement of the study of fish and their classification and for his work in the study of glaciers. I have this book in my library, The Ghost Lake: The True Story of Louis Agassiz by John Hudson Tiner, and I’m reading it now.

Louis Agassiz: “Those who have succeeded best have followed for years some slim thread which once in a while broadened out and disclosed some treasure worth a lifelong search.”

“I cannot waste my time in making money!”

Thomas Moore, b. 1779. Irish poet, singer, and songwriter. He wrote the lyrics of the well-known ballad, The Minstrel Boy. The tune is called The Moreen, an old Irish folk tune. (This tune would have been a great one to listen to yesterday on Memorial Day, but who’s to say we can’t continue to remember bravery and freedom and the price that has been paid to keep them?)

The minstrel boy to the war is gone;
In the ranks of death you’ll find him;
His father’s sword he has girded on,
And his wild harp slung behind him;
“Land of Song!” said the warrior bard,
“Though all the world betrays thee,
One sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,
One faithful harp shall praise thee!

The Minstrel fell! But the foeman’s chain
Could not bring that proud soul under;
The harp he loved ne’er spoke again,
For he tore its chords asunder;
And said “No chains shall sully thee,
Thou soul of love and bravery!
Thy songs were made for the pure and free
They shall never sound in slavery!

Ian Fleming, b. 1908. You may know him for his spy novels that became rather famous, but I know his rollicking-good-fun book for children, Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang. Fleming was an author, a journalist, and a naval intelligence officer. The latter job provided him with background material for his James Bond novels. Fleming was an avid birdwatcher, and he named his fictional spy for a famous American ornithologist, James Bond. Chitty-Chitty-Bang-Bang, Fleming’s only children’s novel, was taken from the bedtime stories that he made up for his son, Caspar.

It’s May!

Merry, rollicking, frolicking May
Into the woods came skipping one day;
She teased the brook till he laughed outright.
And gurgled and scolded with all his might;
She chirped to the birds and bade them sing
A chorus of welcome to Lady Spring;
And the bees and butterflies she set
To waking the flowers that were sleeping yet.
She shook the trees till the buds looked out
To see what the trouble was all about,
And nothing in Nature escaped that day
The touch of the life-giving bright young May.

~George MacDonald

Miss Flora McFlimsey’s May Day by Mariana.

I’m a day or two late and a dollar short, as the saying goes, but this vintage picture book by the author who went by the one name Mariana (Marian Foster Curtiss) is a perfect pick for reading aloud anytime in May. “[T]he nineteenth-century poem by William Allen Butler about the original Miss Flora McFlimsey . . . was her inspiration for the Miss Flora stories.” The poem is worth reading in its own right, but it really has little to do with Mariana’s creation of a doll character, Miss Flora McFlimsey, who stars in her own series of nine mostly holiday-themed books:

Miss Flora McFlimsey and the Baby New Year
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s Birthday
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s Christmas Eve
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s Easter Bonnet
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s Halloween
Miss Flora McFlimsey and Little Laughing Water
Miss Flora McFlimsey and the Little Red Schoolhouse
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s May Day
Miss Flora McFlimsey’s Valentine

Miss Flora McFLimsey’s May Day tells the story of how Miss Flora wakes up on the first of May feeling ugly, unloved, and unwanted, and through a series events in which she is given opportunity to help others, improves her mood and has a happy day. The book isn’t preachy at all, and yet it teaches a lesson: we can gain contentment through serving others and forgetting about ourselves.

I haven’t actually read the other Miss Flora McFlimsey books, but I would think they would be worth seeking out, simply on the strength of this one May Day book alone. The lovely watercolor illustrations, also by Mariana, add to the book’s sense of classic delight and wonder.

Do you know of any other picture books or poems that specifically refer to the moth of May?

Poetry Friday: Hymn by Joseph Addison

The spacious firmament on high,
With all the blue ethereal sky,
And spangled heavens, a shining frame
Their great Original proclaim.
Th’unwearied sun, from day to day,
Does his creator’s powers display,
And publishes to every land
The work of an almighty hand.

Soon as the evening shades prevail
The moon takes up the wondrous tale,
And nightly to the listening earth
Repeats the story of her birth;
While all the stars that round her burn
And all the planets in their turn,
Confirm the tidings as they roll,
And spread the truth from pole to pole.

What though in solemn silence all
Move round the dark terrestrial ball?
What though no real voice nor sound
Amid the radiant orbs be found?
In reason’s ear they all rejoice,
And utter forth a glorious voice,
Forever singing as they shine,
The hand that made us is divine.

The tune that is traditionally used for this hymn poem by the 17th century essayist is adapted from Haydn’s Creation, The Heavens Are Telling, another poem set to music that extolls the beauty of God’s creation in the heavens.

Mr. Addison (b.May 1, 1672, d.June 17,1719), in addition to writing poetry, was well-known as an essayist. Here are some selected quotes from his writings:

“Books are the legacies that a great genius leaves to mankind, which are delivered down from generation to generation as presents to the posterity of those who are yet unborn.” Isn’t it nice to think that Charles Dickens and Jane Austen and Mark Twain were all writing to leave a legacy to me and my children?

“A true critic ought to dwell upon excellencies rather than imperfections, to discover the concealed beauties of a writer, and communicate to the world such things as are worth their observation.” A good motto for book bloggers, at least when possible, when the “excellencies” outweigh the “imperfections”?

“There is no defense against criticism except obscurity.” On the other hand, the author would do well to remember this particular aphorism. Critics will criticize.

At any rate, I enjoyed Mr. Addison’s hymn, and I hope it encourages you and stirs you to worship the Creator as you live your Friday.

Links and Thinks: May 31, 2013

'Walt Whitman, ca. 1860 - ca. 1865' photo (c) 1860, The U.S. National Archives - license: http://www.flickr.com/commons/usage/Today is the birthday of poet Walt Whitman. I tend to think of Mr. Whitman as a rather self-indulgent poet (song of myself, me, me, ME!), but I rather like this particular snippet and use it frequently to explain (or not) myself. (And who am I, blogger that I am, to accuse anyone else of self-indulgence and egotism?)

“Do I contradict myself? Very well, then I contradict myself, I am large, I contain multitudes.”

Do fish feel pain? My vegetarian daughter and I had a discussion recently on the advisability and morality of killing and eating animals. This article touches at least tangentially on some of the things we were discussing. Bottom line: “Whether fish, fowl or mammal, neurological pain happens to us all. It’s the capacity for suffering that remains up for dispute.” Other bottom line: I’m still a carnivore, and my daughter is still vegetarian.

Then another kind of fish story: The Golden Fish: How God Woke Me up in a Dream by Eric Metaxas, in CHristianity Today. Mr. Metaxas is now a leader at the ministry, Breakpoint, that was begun by the late Chuck Colson. The article I linked to tells the unusual story of how God showed him his need for Christ in a dream . . . about a fish.

Tomorrow is beginning of June. Get a head start on June Celebrations, Links, and Birthdays.

Wisdom and Innocence by Joseph Pearce

Happy Birthday, to Mr. Gilbert Keith Chesterton!

Thanks to the lovely Carol B. of A Living Pencil, who loaned me her personal copy of the book, I have been reading Wisdom and Innocence: A Life of G.K. Chesterton by Joseph Pearce over the last couple of weeks. I’ve been reading about Mr. Chesterton, mostly at bedtime and in small doses, and I haven’t finished the book yet. However, I have collected enough sticky note markers to post something about what caught my eye as I read, and today seems as if it would the appropriate day since Gilbert Keith Chesterton was born on this date, May 29th, in 1876, a hundred and thirty-seven years ago.

(p.79) Chesterton wrote in an article in the Daily News, December, 1903:

“You cannot evade the issue of God: whether you talk about pigs or the binomial theory, you are still talking about Him . . . If Christianity should happen to be true–that is to say, if its God is the real God of the universe–then defending it may mean talking about anything and everything. . . . Zulus, gardening, butchers’ shops, lunatic asylums, housemaids, and the French Revolution–all these things not only may have something to do with the Christian God, but must have something to do with Him if He lives and reigns.”

So true. I try to avoid religious jargon and buzzwords, but I find it difficult to discuss anything without the topic eventually leading back to God and His works in some form or another. As Paul wrote, “For from him and through him and to him are all things.” So, how (or why) would one discuss or think about anything without reference to the One who made and sustains all things?

(p. 213) “One of his secretaries was amazed, when she first started working for him (Chesterton), by his ability to write two articles at once on totally different subjects by dictating one to her while he scribbled away at another himself.”

President James Garfield taught himself to write with both hands. He also knew Latin and Greek. He sometimes would show off and write with both hands at the same time, each in a different language. However, to write on two separate subjects, formulate coherent thoughts and dictate or write them at the same time, seems almost impossible. I wonder if the ever-playful Chesterton was deceiving his secretary into thinking that he was “writing” two articles at once. Maybe he even was deceiving himself. I tell my children all the time that it is impossible to truly “multi-task.” It would be interesting to hear what Chesterton would have to say about the subject.

(p.252) Chesterton on the “underlying pessimism of much modern poetry”: “I will not write any more about these poets, because I do not pretend to be impartial, or even to be good-tempered on the subject. To my thinking, the oppression of the people is a terrible sin; but the depression of the people is a far worse one.”

I agree with Chesterton about modern poetry, indeed most modern (twentieth century and beyond) literature. It’s a question of which came first, depression and degeneration in Western culture which is reflected in the literature, or depression and degeneration in literature which in turn produced at least two, maybe three, generations of depressed, decadent, and sometimes illiterate people. After all, who wants to read about how miserable and corrupt we all are when there is no hope or faith that anything or anyone can fix the mess? (And now I started out discussing modern literature with GKC, and we’re back to God again.)

(p.256) “Through it all he remained totally unaffected by events and as self-effacing as ever. For example, when an enthusiastic reporter asked him which of his works he considered the greatest, he replied instantly, ‘I don’t consider any of my works in the least great.'”

To be able to come up with such an answer”instantly” requires either great humility or great preparation.

(p.295) “Neither was Chesterton embarrassed to be seen laughing at his own jokes. ‘If a man may not laugh at his own jokes,’ he once asked, ‘at whose jokes may he laugh? May not an architect pray in his own cathedral?'”

Again, either humility or a quip waiting to happen.

(p.299) “The aim of life is appreciation; there is no sense in not appreciating things; and there is no sense in having more of them if you have less appreciation of them.”

One could say “joy” (C.S. Lewis) or “enjoying God” (John Piper) instead of appreciation, and mean essentially the same thing. Chesterton seemed to have a gift for gratitude and enjoyment of God’s good gifts.

(p.302) The ignorant pronounce it Frood
To cavil or applaud.
The well-informed pronounce it Froyd,
But I pronounce it Fraud.

No comment necessary.

(p.306) “Most modern histories of mankind begin with the word evolution, and with a rather wordy exposition of evolution . . . There is something slow and soothing and gradual about the word and even about the idea. As a matter of fact, it is not, touching these primary things, a very practical word or a very profitable idea. Nobody can imagine how nothing could turn into something. . . It is really far more logical to start by saying ‘In the beginning God created heaven and earth’ even if you only mean ‘In the beginning some unthinkable power began some unthinkable process.'”

As soon as you admit there is something or someone who is eternal, a Grand Cause or at least Power for the Universe and everything in it, the argument moves to the nature of this Cause or this God. Carl Sagan famously said, “The Cosmos is all that is or ever was or ever will be.” What is this “Cosmos” of Mr. Sagan’s but an impersonal Force that initiates and sustains the universe? We can now discuss whether this impersonal Force or Cosmos makes sense as creator and sustainer and order-er of all that we experience and know to be true and real.

“Nothing comes from nothing–nothing ever could.” ~The Sound Of Music.

And again the God of the Bible makes His appearance, whether we’re discussing evolution or mousetraps or movie musicals. At least, in my thought world, He seems to intrude quite frequently and persistently.

Thank you, GKC, for enriching my thought life today. Thank you, God, for Mr. Chesterton.

Celebrate the Day: May 31

Anniversary of the Johnstown Flood.

Birthday of poet Walt Whitman:

THERE was a child went forth every day;
And the first object he look’d upon, that object he became;
And that object became part of him for the day, or a certain part of the day, or for many years, or stretching cycles of years.

The early lilacs became part of this child,
And grass, and white and red morning-glories, and white and red clover, and the song of the phoebe-bird,
And the Third-month lambs, and the sow’s pink-faint litter, and the mare’s foal, and the cow’s calf,
And the noisy brood of the barn-yard, or by the mire of the pond-side,
And the fish suspending themselves so curiously below there—and the beautiful curious liquid,
And the water-plants with their graceful flat heads—all became part of him.

The field-sprouts of Fourth-month and Fifth-month became part of him;
Winter-grain sprouts, and those of the light-yellow corn, and the esculent roots of the garden,
And the apple-trees cover’d with blossoms, and the fruit afterward, and wood-berries, and the commonest weeds by the road;
And the old drunkard staggering home from the out-house of the tavern, whence he had lately risen,
And the school-mistress that pass’d on her way to the school,
And the friendly boys that pass’d—and the quarrelsome boys,
And the tidy and fresh-cheek’d girls—and the barefoot negro boy and girl,
And all the changes of city and country, wherever he went.

His own parents,
He that had father’d him, and she that had conceiv’d him in her womb, and birth’d him,
They gave this child more of themselves than that;
They gave him afterward every day—they became part of him.

Read the rest of the poem.

Celebrate the Day: May 29th

This is the day the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it.


The Quarterfinals of the Scripps National Spelling Bee air live on ESPN360.com from 2:00 to 5:30 p.m. ET.

Today is the birthday of G.K. Chesterton (b.1874), U.S. president John F. Kennedy (b.1917), Virginia patriot Patrick Henry (b.1736), and authors Andrew Clements (b.1949), Brock Cole (b. 1938), T.H. White (b.1906), Max Brand (b.1892).

Andrew Clements is a prolific author of middle grade fiction and a former school teacher. You can read fifth grader Karate Kid’s review of No Talking by Andrew Clements here. Karate Kid and Betsy-Bee are both reading Frindle by the same author this summer.
Andrew Clements’s website.

Brock Cole is a writer of young adult novels and an illustrator and author of children’s fiction and picture books. Several of the picture books are derived from classic folk tales, such as The King at the Door (out of print, unfortunately), in which a ragged old beggar at the village inn says that he is really the king, but no one believes him except for a servant. My pastor used this story as a sermon illustration one time, and it worked quite well. Picture books should be used in sermons more often, imho.

Terence Hanbury White is most famous for his Arthurian novel, The Once and Future King. The first part of this novel, called The Sword in the Stone, was Disney-fied into an animated movie, and the latter parts were the basis for the Broadway and the movie musicalCamelot. Camelot, the movie, is on my list of 107 Best Movies Ever. But I still refuse to link Camelot with the Kennedys, even if Mr. White and JFK were born on the same day of the year.

More May Celebrations, Links, and Birthdays

Lobelisms

Today, May 22, is the birthday of author and illustrator Arnold Lobel. He wrote the Frog and Toad books and the Mouse books and Owl at Home and many others. Perhaps you don’t use Lobelisms in your home, but we certainly do.

“Let us eat one very last cookie and then we will stop.”

“Will power is trying hard not to do something that you really want to do.”

“We have lots and lots of will power.
You may keep it all, Frog. I am going home now to bake a cake.”

“What will I do without my list? Running after my list is not one of the things that I wrote on my list of things to do!”

“Tonight I will make tear-water tea.”

“The whole world is covered with buttons, and NOT ONE OF THEM IS MINE!” (Substitute any lost item for “button” and you have the problem with the universe in a nutshell.)

“Winter may be beautiful, but bed is much better.”

“I am laughing at you, Toad,” said Frog, “because you do look funny in your bathing suit.” “Of course I do,” said Toad. Then he picked up his clothes and went home.

Writer 2b celebrates Arnold Lobel.

More May Celebrations, Links, and Birthdays.

Francesisms

Frances is a badger, a little girl badger with a mind of her own and a talent for making up songs. We use lots of Francesisms in our house, and so in honor of the birthday of Lillian Hoban (b. May 18, 1925), author with her husband Russell, of the Frances books, I give you our favorite Francesisms:

“Being careful isn’t nice; being friends is better.”

“A lot of girls never do get tea sets. So maybe you won’t get one.”

“No backsies.”

“When the wasps and the bumblebees have a party.
Nobody comes that can’t buzz.”

“That is how it is, Alice. Your birthday is always the one that is not now.”

“Chompo bars are nice to get,
Chompo Bars taste better yet
When they’re someone else’s.”

“A family is everybody all together.

“If the wind does not blow the curtains, he will be out of a job.
If I do not go to the office, I will be out of a job.
And if you do not go to sleep now, do you know what will happen to you?”

“Sunny-side up eggs lie on the plate and look up at you in a funny way. And sunny-side down eggs just lie on their stomachs and wait. Scrambled eggs fall off the fork and roll under the table.”

“Jam on biscuits, jam on toast,
Jam is the thing that I like most.
Jam is sticky, jam is sweet,
Jam is tasty, jam’s a treat—

Raspberry, strawberry, gooseberry, I’m very
FOND . . . OF . . . JAM!”

“She liked to practice with a string bean when she could.”

“Jam for snacks and jam for meals,
I know how a jam jar feels—
FULL . . . OF . . . JAM!”

“How do you know what I’ll like if you won’t even try me?”

More about Lillian and Russell Hoban.

More May Celebrations, Links, and Birthdays.