A Sky Full of Song by Susan Lynn Meyer

Susan Lynn Meyer is the Jewish author of two previous books, Black Radishes and Skating With the Statue of Liberty, both of which I read and enjoyed. In fact, I have Skating With the Statue of Liberty in my library, and I would love to have Ms. Meyer’s other two books in the library, too. I’m fairly picky these days about what I include in my library (running out of shelf space), so that’s a high recommendation.

A Sky Full of Song is set in the early twentieth century, beginning in 1905, and it’s a sort of Little House on the Prairie with Jewish immigrants from Ukraine. Persecution and pogroms have driven Shoshana and her family out of their home in a Ukrainian village, and they are leaving to join Shoshana’s father and older brother in “Nordakota”. Shoshana is sad to leave her cat, Ganef, behind, but Mama says it’s too difficult to take a cat across the ocean on a boat. “More difficult, that I don’t need.” Mama already has four daughters to take care of on the long journey to Nordakota, and that’s enough. (I agree with Mama.)

Anyway, the family finally gets to North Dakota and homestead that Papa has been preparing for them, but all is not roses and joy on the prairie. There is loneliness, and prejudice, and the struggle to make a new beginning while hanging on to old customs and identity, here in a new country. Shoshana gets used to the beauty of the wide plains that make up her new home, and she loves school and learning and making new American friends. However, she is somewhat ashamed of the language (Yiddish) and cultural habits that make her and her family different from those who live around them.

Shoshana’s family seems to be deeply Jewish in identity and culture, but not so religious. There’s little or no mention of God or prayer or scripture in this book, but much emphasis on Jewish traditions and holidays and the Yiddish language. Shoshana knows that her family wouldn’t want her to be celebrating Christmas at school by making Christmas decorations and singing Christmas carols, but she doesn’t seem to know why her family would eschew such things, other than the fact that Jewish people don’t do Christmas. For the setting of this story, the idea of finding one’s identity in one’s own family and cultural heritage, without examining the underlying meaning of that heritage too deeply, makes sense.

“But the lights of the menorah, all together on this last night of th holiday, burned strong. They stood for the way the Jews carried on.

For the way, wherever we went, we held onto who we were.”

The blurb for the book begins with the words: “An untold American Frontier story . . . ” And indeed the thought of a Jewish family proving a homestead on the North Dakota prairie was new to me. I think of Jewish immigrants coming to New York City like the All-of-a-Kind Family and like the family in Skating With the Statue of Liberty, not farming on the prairie. But immigration happened in all shapes and sizes, from all countries, and to all sorts of different places. A Sky Full of Song tells one story of Jewish immigration and assimilation as well as strength and heritage.

Content considerations: Persecution and violence both in Ukraine and in the U.S., name-calling. Shoshana’s older sister gets her first menstrual period and is ridiculed and harassed.

The Extraordinary Adventures of Alice Tonks by Emily Kenny

“Alice Tonks would love to make friends at boarding school. Being autistic, she really hopes people will accept for who she is. But after a rather strange encounter with a talking seagull on her first day, she faces a new challenge. Animals are going missing, and Alice can’t solve the mystery alone. With new friends behind her, can she harness her magic powers and become the hero she never imagined?”

From the back cover

This novel is a British import, and as such, there may be some cultural nuance I’m missing. It was never clear to me why Alice is going to boarding school, since her guardian seems worried about her going away to school, and Alice herself isn’t at all sure she wants to be there. Also, there’s a family heritage of magic, shape-shifting, that no one tells Alice about until three quarters of the way through the story. Why not? Maybe it’s a British reticence thing.

Nevertheless, Alice Tonks is a decent story, in the Harry Potter tradition. Alice does manage to “harness her magic powers” and save the day, along with her new friends. Some erstwhile enemies become friends along the way, while some seeming friends turn out to be villains. The autism that Alice experiences is almost certainly high-functioning autism, and it doesn’t seem to hold her back or interfere with her life too much. (The author herself “is autistic and wanted to write her debut novel about an autistic child protagonist.”)

The last paragraph of the book reads, “As Constance (the cat) nestled in her arms, Alice knew her life at Pebbles (the school) was going to be all right. Better still, it was going to be an adventure!” So, we’re all set for a series of books about Shapeshifter Alice Tonks and her life at Pebbles Boarding School. I’m not sure there’s enough depth in this first book to sustain a series, but I suppose we’ll see.

Why Marry?

We live in a utilitarian age. If you can’t show me a practical use for any given practice or cultural institution, I’m free to throw it out, take it or leave it, make my own traditions, fashions, and rules. With this modern attitude, what is the use of marriage? Why go to the expense and worry of a wedding, why get a marriage license, why marry?

And many couples do not. They live together, engage in a sexual relationship, combine finances, make joint decisions, and even have children, forming families, without ever troubling themselves to obtain that pesky little piece of paper that legalizes and solemnizes their liaison. Some of these “partners” move from one relationship to the next, never settling, and never committing themselves to one person. But others are seemingly committed, seemingly married in everything but name, but just don’t see the use of getting actually, legally, really truly married.

So why marry? If you ask me to give you a utilitarian reason for legal marriage, I can’t really do it. Is it better for a society if the majority of couples who are forming families and educating the coming generation are legally married? Yes, I believe so. Is it better for children if their parents are formally and publicly committed to one another in marriage? Again, yes. Better how? Well, marriage implies and calls a couple to a stable and lasting relationship, a foundation that is important, even vital for the mental and spiritual health of children in a family. But you can answer that as individuals we are committed. We plan to stay together till death does us part. What difference does it make whether or not we have a marriage certificate or have had a wedding ceremony?

And in strictly utilitarian terms, I cannot give an adequate or convincing answer. The real reason for marriage, as I have come to understand after much thought, is not utilitarian at all. It is transcendent in nature–for Christians, Jews, Muslims, and Hindus and other religious people, certainly. We all believe that marriage is a solemn vow of union before God. But even for many nonreligious people who still believe in marriage and who continue to marry one another, marriage is something more than “a piece of paper” or a legal contract or a meaningless ritual. When we get married, we are doing something real, initiating a relationship, that has meaning beyond the words we say or the papers we sign. We are making a commitment before God (whether you believe in Him or not, He is there) and our community to cleave to this one husband or wife and to no one else for the rest of our natural lives. We are initiating a new family relationship, husband and wife, a relationship that will exact responsibilities from us and give privileges to us and that will shape us for the rest of our lives, even if the marriage itself someday ends in divorce or in the death of one of the couple.

What I’m trying to say is that marriage has a transcendent meaning, and we marry because of that meaning. Yes, marriage is a picture of Christ and His church. That’s a part of the reason and meaning for marriage. And marriage was instituted by God in the beginning when Adam and Eve were joined by God and told to cleave to one another and be fruitful and multiply. That’s another piece of the meaning of marriage. Furthermore, marriage is an invisible bond and contract between two people in the presence of family and community to love and care for each other, both physically and spiritually. It’s an announcement that says, “Hey, world, we are not just interested in exploring or exploiting each other physically and sexually. We are a married couple. We are spiritually, mystically committed to each other in all senses, physically, emotionally, intellectually, and even supernaturally.”

If the man and woman involved in a physical relationship are not willing to make that announcement loudly, proudly and publicly in an actual ceremony of some kind and a legal binding contract, then there is something wrong with the relationship itself. The partnership that is not willing to be a marriage may be practical, sensible, and even lasting, but it is ultimately soulless. And that’s why we marry: for the sake of our mutual souls and for the creation of a one flesh spiritual union together.

Clarice Bean, Scram by Lauren Child

I have met Clarice Bean before in other books, and I like her. At least one of my children liked her, too, and wrote about about her here and here. Some of you who are parents are not going to like Clarice Bean. Clarice is something of a menace. She’s not a delightful little girl who just needs love and attention to become The Perfect Young Lady. And she’s not really a brat, although she does have her moments. Clarice is normal. And normal kids think and act in ways that sometimes get them into trouble, or cause trouble for others. And normal parents might even get tired and annoyed enough to tell their normal child to “scram!” So if any of that, plus a bit of deception (taking in and hiding a stray dog) and some name-calling (“Little big mouth” and “creep”) are dealbreakers for you, then this book will not be for you.

I think Ramona Quimby and Clementine and Clarice Bean are funny. I enjoyed reading about how Clarice desperately tries to stay out of trouble and keep her parents and older sister and younger brother happy and amuse herself, but utterly fails. Until she finds a dog that no one seems to own or want. Then, Clarice becomes the proud caretaker of a dog named Clement (or Cement), and her only problem is how to break the news to her parents and to her granddad whose bird may or may not be averse to dogs and cats and other four-legged animals.

Other books about Clarice Bean by Lauren Child:

Short Takes on 2023 Middle Grade Fiction

Rare Birds by Jeff Miller. Eleven year old Graham Dodds feels if his whole life is spent in one big waiting room in his mind as he waits with his mom in hospital after hospital for her heart to get fixed. And now they are waiting for a heart transplant, and Graham and his new friend Lou are waiting to find the rarest of Florida birds, the endangered Snail Kite. As they wait and watch, Graham keeps trying to believe what his mother always says, “It all happens for a reason.” Although it has lots of heart (no pun intended), the plot was a little jerky, and the intimations of reincarnation and an afterlife as a bird were not for me.

Leeva at Last by Sara Pennypacker. I like Sara Pennypacker’s books, generally speaking, especially the Clementine series for beginning chapter book readers. But Leeva is over-the-top ridiculous, and I’m not sure what to think about it. Leeva Spayce Thornblossom has been trapped inside her house in the tiny town of Nutsmore for all of her eight or nine years of life, captive to the whims and neglect of her parents, the mayor and town treasurer of Nutsmore. Since her parents have taught her nothing and allowed her little or no contact with the outside world, Leeva is not sure how to answer the question, “What are people for?” So she decides to leave her home to find out. As I said, it’s really ridiculous, and the parents are comically evil, but again the story has a good heart.

The Infinite Questions of Dottie Bing by Mollie Burnham. Dottie is a ten year old spoiled kid, and her best friend Sam had to inform the teacher in first grade or kindergarten that she/he was a boy, not a girl. Enough said.

Not an Easy Win by Chrystal Giles. “Nothing’s gone right for Lawrence since he had to move from Charlotte to Larenville, North Carolina, to live with his granny. When Lawrence ends up in one too many fights at his new school, he gets expelled. The fight wasn’t his fault, but since his pop’s been gone, it feels like no one listens to what Lawrence has to say.” Chess is the game that saves Lawrence when he learns to play at the local community center. OK, but not great.

Wild Bird by Diane Zahler. The book began as a dark but readable historical fiction story set in medieval Europe during the black plague years, fourteenth century. It progressed into sexual innuendo and bawdy songs and hinted-at sexual assault. Then, it went on to describe full-fledged child abuse, sexual abuse, and homosexual liaison between an older man and a much younger boy–all in the midst of what is supposed to be a middle grade novel for ages eight to fourteen. Not recommended for any age.

Bea and the New Deal Horse by L.M. Elliott. A well written horse story set during the Great Depression. It’s a bit too horsey for me with detailed descriptions of horse training and horse racing, but your opinion may be different if you’re into horses. And there’s some unnecessary cursing sprinkled here and there throughout the book. Otherwise, it’s a good story, recommended for those who love Black Beauty and all of the books about horses that came after.

Dog Journeys: Books About Dogs

Roverandom by JRR Tolkien.

One Hundred and One Dalmatians by Dodie Smith.

I have often heard people say that they avoid dog books because the dog always dies. And indeed, many beloved dog books do turn out that way: Old Yeller, Sounder, Where the Red Fern Grows, The Art of Racing in the Rain, Stone Fox, White Fang, and many more. (Sorry for the spoilers. Or maybe, you’re welcome to the warning.)

Anyway, I read a couple of books recently in which the doggy plot heads in a different direction. The dogs in these two books are endangered and face obstacles and go on a difficult and challenging journey, but the dogs do not die. Roverandum by JRR Tolkien, of hobbit fame, began as a bedtime story for Tolkien’s sons to explain and console them for the loss of a toy dog on the beach. In the story Roverandom was once a real live dog, turned into a small toy by an irascible wizard. When Roverandom is lost on the beach, another, more benevolent wizard can’t undo the first wizard’s curse, but he can send Roverandom on a journey, first to the moon where he has many adventures, and then to the depths of the ocean where Roverandom, after many more adventures, finally manages to get permission to be returned to his normal doggy state. The stories in this short 148 page book would be fun as a read aloud for elementary age children and might even engage the interest of those a little older than that.

I have also heard some people opine that the adventures of Bilbo and Frodo Baggins become somewhat repetitious and even tedious after a while. Those same readers would find Roverandom even more dull. On the other hand, those of us who enjoy imaginative flights of fancy and dueling wizards and journeys full of unusual adventures are primed for reading about a toy dog who visits the dark side of the moon as well as hobbits who visit dragons and gigantic spiders.

The other book I read was 101 Dalmatians by Dodie Smith. I saw the Disney movie long ago, and of course, I thought I knew the story. But also of course, the book is much more engaging and humorous than the movie ever could have been. It’s a Christmas story, beginning just before Christmas, in which a pair of Dalmatians, mother and father, Pongo and Missus, go on a perilous and difficult journey to rescue their kidnapped puppies–all fifteen of them. Cruella de Vil is both cruel and devilish, but she eventually gets her just deserts. There are no wizards or magic spells in this book, but it is full of fun as the dogs, who think they own their humans, the Dearlys, exhibit humor and personality and independence and courage in the face of danger.

I highly recommend both Roverandom and 101 Dalmatians as stories in which the dog does NOT die, but instead goes on a brave journey of self-discovery and also exploration of the world and its wonders.

More good dog journey stories in which the dog does not die (I don’t think):

  • The Incredible Journey by Sheila Burnford.
  • Silver Chief, Dog of the North by Jack O’Brien
  • Lassie, Come-Home by Eric Knight
  • Big Red (and sequels) by Jim Kjelgaard
  • Kavik the Wolf Dog by Walt Morey
  • Red Dog by Bill Wallace
  • Hurry Home, Candy by Meindert DeJong
  • Ginger Pye by Eleanor Estes

Any other suggestions?

Mr. Apple’s Family by Jean McDevitt

What a delightful book! Mr. and Mrs. Apple are the parents of five little Apple children: Macintosh, Jonathan, Delicious, Snow and Ann Apple. Mr. Apple is the one who wanted to name all of his children after types of apples, and the first chapter of the book tells how he managed to do so, almost. Then the story moves on to tell about how the Apple family outgrow their apartment in the city and work hard to buy a little crooked house in the country.

This easy chapter book with six stories or chapters is another one of the books I purchased from The Good and the Beautiful’s closeout sale. But this one is no longer available at a reasonable price, so if you see a used copy, snap it up. The illustrations are by classic illustrator Ninon (MacKnight) who was born in Australia, but came to the U.S. as an adult and became a well regarded artist for children’s books and for greeting cards. Her black and white illustrations for Mr. Apple’s Family are simple and sweet and quite suited to the simplicity and sweetness of the story itself.

A long time ago I had a curriculum idea book from the company Good Apple with lots of worksheets and crafts and puzzles and coloring sheets, all about apples. The idea was for teachers to do a fall/September unit study about apples that encompassed math, science, language, and literature. Although unit studies can be overdone, I think this book about Mr. Apple’s family, along with A Basket of Plums, and a few apple activities, plus a few apples to munch on, would make a fun story time or mini-homeschool unit study.

More Apple Books in the library:

  • Apple-picking Time by Michele Slawson
  • Apple Fractions by Jerry Pallotta
  • From Apple Seed to Applesauce by Hannah Lyons Johnson
  • The Seasons of Arnold’s Apple Tree by Gail GIbbons
  • Cezanne and the Apple Boy by Laurence Anholt
  • How to Make an Apple Pie and See the World by Marjorie Priceman
  • How Do Apples Grow? by Betsy Maestro
  • Applebet: An ABC by Clyde Watson
  • Spaceship Under the Apple Tree by Louis Slobodkin

I also like how the Apple family members, over the course of the entire story, are learning to honor one another in community as they make choices or give up their right to choose to allow for the preferences of others. As the story puts it, “They knew that they could not always have what they wanted. (Someone else) must sometimes have what they wanted.” Embedded in the story in several places, it’s not so much a moral lesson as a true commentary on the way the world should work, if we were all busy loving one another. And as the Bible says (Proverbs 25:11), “A word fitly spoken is like apples of gold in pictures of silver.”

A Basket of Plums by Maud McKnight Lindsay

This picture book is one of several that I purchased from The Good and the Beautiful recently when that publisher announced that they were going to close out all of their inventory of reprinted children’s books and in future only print original works written by living authors. I’ll say upfront that while the decision may make business sense, it’s a loss to the community. Older books (this one was originally published in 1915) are often treasures to be preserved and enjoyed by a generation that is starving for true, good, and beautiful literature. We are drowning in the new, the current, the flashy, and sometimes deceitful, but we need the the old, the tried, and the true.

Of course, not all old books are excellent, just as not all new books are sub-standard. However, A Basket of Plums would be a lovely addition to any library. Ms. Lindsay was a kindergarten teacher, founder of the first free kindergarten in Alabama. She wrote more than 18 books for children, and she was also a poet.

A Basket of Plums is a gentle story about an elderly woman who sets out from her home with a basket of plums, hoping to find apples for the apple dumpling that she wants for her supper. As the old woman walks along, looking for apples, she finds others in need of what she does have–plums and the things she trades for–but it takes a bit of time, and a few bargains, to find the apples for her apple dumpling.

The illustrations in this modern edition of Ms. LIndsay’s story, by a modern illustrator, Dan Burr, are colorful, photo-realistic paintings that complement the quaint old-fashioned tone of the story. The title old woman in Mr. Burr’s pictures feels like a real grandmotherly figure and at the same she has a storybook quality that goes with the story. That’s a a hard combination to pull off, but Mr. Burr does it beautifully.

If you can find a copy–I have one in my library now— enjoy reading this story to both preschoolers and older children. Other stories about bargaining and trading and barter include Oxcart Man by Donald Hall, A Bargain for Frances by Russell Hoban, Monkey for Sale by Sanna Stanley, and for older children (middle elementary) The Toothpaste Millionaire by Jean Merrill and Alvin’s Swap Shop by Clifford B. Hicks. Oh, I checked and as of June 4, 2023, The Good and the Beautiful has a few copies of A Basket of Plums left. I recommend you purchase a copy now if you’re interested.

The Forgotten Daughter by Caroline Dale Snedeker

If The Forgotten Daughter were published now, instead of in 1927, it would probably be classified as Young Adult, at least in terms of interest level. The story takes a young Greek slave girl from age twelve to seventeen as she grows up in Samnium, southern Italy, on a Roman farm villa in the second century B.C. Chloe, the slave girl, lives in a hut on the mountainside with her guardian, an older woman named Melissa. Chloe’s mother is dead, and her father, the Roman patrician and owner of the villa whom she hates, deserted her mother before Chloe was born. The first part of the book deals with the back story behind the marriage of Chloe’s parents and Chloe’s birth and enslavement.

Although The Forgotten Daughter was a Newbery Honor book, I can’t imagine anyone younger than 12 or 13 being able to read the book with enjoyment and appreciation. It took several chapters for me as an adult to be able to follow the plot and understand the deeply religious, cultural, and philosophical meanderings that the author indulges. I did eventually enjoy the insight into Roman culture and law and religion, but it took some mental adjustment to understand the purpose of the descriptions and explanations of Roman superstition, Greek religious practice, Stoicism, and Roman politics, among other subjects. (It was a bit reminiscent of Victor Hugo, Les Miserables, and the sewers of Paris, but not nearly as long as Hugo’s digressions.)

The story is a romance, but a chaste one, although there is some kissing mentioned. It’s also a story of redemption and of freedom from the bondage of hatred and of forgiveness. The author paints a vivid and memorable picture of ancient Roman family life and politics, mentioning or invoking Sappho, Plato, Euripides, the Grachi, Plutarch, and many other Roman and Greek politicians and philosophers and playwrights. Chloe grows up isolated on her father’s Roman farm property, but the politics of Rome impact her life in unexpected ways. Her journey from slavery to freedom mirrors her internal journey from hatred to forgiveness, and it’s all accomplished within a pre-Christian religious and philosophical environment that feels very true and well-researched.

Charlotte Mason educators who are following her advice and reading Plutarch with their students would find this story full of connections and insights. I recommend it for philosophical girls and stoical boys and interested adults. Available from Bethlehem Books.

Snipp, Snapp, Snurr and the Buttered Bread by Maj Lindman

I just took a Picture Book Break from library work to re-read a childhood favorite picture book, Snipp, Snapp, Snurr and the Buttered Bread by Maj LIndman. I loved this series of picture books featuring the Swedish triplets, Snipp, Snapp, and Snurr when I was a kid of a girl. I loved the idea of triplets (and twins). It was intriguing to me that you could have three brothers (or sisters, Flicka, Rick and Dicka) who looked alike and were born at the same time. I think also the foreignness of these little boys growing up in a village in Sweden appealed to me.

In this particular Snipp Snapp Snurr adventure not too much happens. The boys long for some butter to spread on their mother’s fresh bread. So Mother sends them out to get some milk from Aunt Annie’s cow. But the cow, Blossom, has had no fresh grass to eat, so she can’t give milk. And there is no fresh grass to give Blossom because . . . So the story goes from one obstacle to another until the boys finally manage to overcome and get some butter for their bread. It’s just a lovely little sequential story showing how one thing depends upon another all in a great chain that finally yields food, feasting and enjoyment.

Lindman’s illustrations are delightful, too. Of course the triplets wear matching clothes, red overalls and a blue shirt, and they look just alike. The reader never knows in this book which one is Snipp or Snapp or Snurr. Lindman writes, “The sun looked down at the boys and shone and gleamed and beamed with happiness.” And the sun in the picture has a giant smile on his sunny face. Mother and Aunt Annie wear suitable but colorful farm woman dresses and aprons. Everything in the story and the pictures is just so charming and picturesque that it enhances my present enjoyment and my feeling of nostalgia.

Alice Dalgliesh writes in her foreword to Snipp, Snapp, Snurr and the Buttered Bread: “This is the fourth book in the series telling of the adventures of Snipp, Snapp, and Snurr. By this time these three little Swedish boys have become firmly entrenched in the affections of American children. . . . The story has the same quaint charm as the preceding ones. It has an air of reality but it takes just a step over the border of fancy. The books are entirely independent of each other. They may be read in any order, and children who first meet Snipp, Snapp, and Snurr at the farm can then go back and read any of the other adventures.”

Indeed. I am tempted to do as Dalgliesh suggests and go back and read all of the Snipp, Snapp, Snurr books as well as their companion series, Flicka, Rick, and Dicka. But my Picture Book Break time is over, so I’ll save the rest for another day.