Jews demand signs and Greeks look for wisdom, but we preach Christ crucified: a stumbling block to Jews and foolishness to Gentiles, but to those whom God has called, both Jews and Greeks, Christ the power of God and the wisdom of God. I Corinthians 1:22-24.
A Tale of Two Cities by Charles Dickens
I first read Charles Dickens’ A Tale of Two Cities when I was in ninth grade. Three of us—Christina, Teresa, and I— wrote a chapter-by-chapter summary of the entire book, making our own little study guide to the novel as a school project. We did this before the age of personal computers and before any of us knew how to type. Type written nevertheless but means of the hunt and peck method, I can’t remember exactly what the finished product looked like—it did have a picture of a guillotine on the front— but it was a lot of work.
The themes of death, burial, imprisonment, rescue and resurrection are woven throughout Dickens’ tale set during the French Revolution and the Reign of Terror. Doctor Manette is rescued from a living death inside the Bastille. Jerry Cruncher is a “resurrection man” who digs up dead bodies to sell them. Charles Darnay is rescued and recalled to life twice during the novel, once when he is on trial in England and again when he is headed for guillotine in France.
But the most vivid representation of death and resurrection comes at the end of the novel when the reprobate Sydney Carton gives up his life to save Charles and Lucy Darnay and to ensure their future together. Carton is walking down the street when he remembers these words from Scripture read at his father’s funeral long ago:
“I am the resurrection, and the life, saith the Lord: he that believeth in me, though he were dead, yet shall he live: And whosoever liveth and believeth in me, shall never die.”
Now, that the streets were quiet, and the night wore on, the words were in the echoes of his feet, and were in the air. Perfectly calm and steady, he sometimes repeated them to himself as he walked; but, he heard them always.
The night wore out, and, as he stood upon the bridge listening to the water as it splashed the river-walls of the Island of Paris, where the picturesque confusion of houses and cathedral shone bright in the light of the moon, the day came coldly, looking like a dead face out of the sky. Then, the night, with the moon and the stars, turned pale and died, and for a little while it seemed as if Creation were delivered over to Death’s dominion.
But, the glorious sun, rising, seemed to strike those words, that burden of the night, straight and warm to his heart in its long bright rays. And looking along them, with reverently shaded eyes, a bridge of light appeared to span the air between him and the sun, while the river sparkled under it.
The strong tide, so swift, so deep, and certain, was like a congenial friend, in the morning stillness. He walked by the stream, far from the houses, and in the light and warmth of the sun fell asleep on the bank. When he awoke and was afoot again, he lingered there yet a little longer, watching an eddy that turned and turned purposeless, until the stream absorbed it, and carried it on to the sea.- “Like me!”
A trading-boat, with a sail of the softened colour of a dead leaf, then glided into his view, floated by him, and died away. As its silent track in the water disappeared, the prayer that had broken up out of his heart for a merciful consideration of all his poor blindnesses and errors, ended in the words, “I am the resurrection and the life.”
On Good Friday, when we are in the midst of death and sin and darkness, it does sometimes seem a if “Creation were delivered over to Death’s dominion.” A blogging friend sent out a tweet earlier today saying that he had “difficulty ‘pretending’ on Good Friday that Jesus is dead.” Of course, Jesus isn’t dead, but as far as imagining the feeling of despair and “being delivered over to death”, I have no trouble whatsoever. Sometimes things in this world are very dark, and the very hope of the resurrection of Jesus Christ and our eventual resurrection with Him is all that keeps me from utter despair.
Thank God for Resurrection Sunday!
The Bomber’s Moon by Betty Vander Els
This fictional treatment of missionary children escaping World War II China reads almost like a memoir. In a brief search on the internet, I couldn’t find any information about the author, Betty Vander Els, but I would almost bet that this story is a fictionalized version of her own experiences or those of a very close friend. In the book in 1942 “Ruth”, about eleven years old, and her younger brother, Simeon, are sent away to an emergency boarding school for missionary kids so that they won’t end up in the concentration camp of Weihsien, captured by the approaching Japanese. However, their emergency school site is no safer from Japanese bombing raids than their homes were, and so the children are evacuated over the Himalayas to Calcutta.
The contrast between the children’s petty day-to-day concerns and the enormous events that are happening around them is one focus of this book. Ruth considers herself to be a naughty girl. She gets spanked (or strapped as the book calls it) a lot. But her infractions seem petty and inconsequential, too, for the most part: wandering away from the group, forgetting responsibilities, being disrespectful to teachers. Ruth’s concerns are to survive school and her nemesis, Miss Elson, and to take care of Simeon as her parents have charged her to do. The book paints a vivid picture of what it must have been like to see the war and its effects from a child’s point of view.
Ruth is a bit of an annoying child. She calls Simeon “dope” and “dummy” and “cowardly custard” and other such epithets frequently. She does forget to do her work, and she and her friend Anne play tricks on the teachers and band together to outwit the other children and get their own way. However, at the same time Ruth is quite concerned about taking care of Simeon, and she tries to teach him to be tough and to stand up to hardship. Simeon and his friend, Paul, are both daydreamers and and imaginers who run away, get lost, and find themselves in trouble with alarming frequency. And ever in the background and on the periphery of the children’s lives, there are Japanese bombers, American flyers, Chinese children, and Indian amahs. The setting is both exotic and dangerous, and Ruth and Simeon sashay through all the danger and foreign cultures with style and childlike confidence. In short, they act like children.
There’s a sequel (that I haven’t read) with the same characters called Leaving Point: “Home from boarding school to spend Christmas with their missionary parents, fourteen-year-old Ruth and her brothers find that the Communist Revolution has brought about many changes and new restrictions that complicate Ruth’s growing friendship with a young Chinese girl who may not be what she seems.” (Goodreads)
Web of Traitors by Geoffrey Trease
A mysterious plot to overthrow the democracy of Athens is foiled by young Alexis and his friend Corinna. The story includes appearances by Socrates, Plato and Xenophon, competition at the annual Athenian drama festival, and an exciting torch race through the countryside near Athens. Alexis, the Athenian second son of an Athenian nobleman, and Corinna, alien daughter of a cook and innkeeper, form an unlikely friendship when they meet out in the country near Alexis’s father’s farm. And the two of them discover that that the Spartans are in league with an exiled Athenian traitor to overthrow the Council and install themselves as dictators.
Subtitled “An Adventure Story of Ancient Athens” and originally published in England as The Crown of Violet in 1952, Web of Traitors is a good accompaniment to the study of ancient Greece in history. The student who reads this “adventure story” will be introduced to Athenian theater and sport, to the rivalry between Athens and Sparta, and to the culture and customs of Athens. However, this novel is not just a history book in disguise. The characters are fun and fresh and believable, and the story itself is intriguing enough to hold the interest of middle school readers, even of those who go into the novel with very little knowledge of interest in ancient Athens.
According to Jan Bloom’s author guide, Who Then Should We Read?, Geoffrey Trease, a British children’s author with a background in the classics and in theater, “once commented that he could write about any period if he could figure out what made those people laugh.” He wrote more than fifty historical novels for middle grade and young adult readers, set in all different time periods from the Athens of Socrates and Plato to the time of Shakespeare (Cue for Treason) to the French revolution (Victory at Valmy). His novels are said to combine historical accuracy, adventure, and a love of drama to make great reads.
Here are a few of Trease’s novels, along with the setting of each, that I would like to read and to own for my library:
Message to Hadrian: Roman Britain.
Escape to King Alfred: Ninth century during the reign of Alfred the Great, King of Wessex.
Cue for Treason: Shakespeare’s England. I already own this one and plan to read it next.
The Silken Secret: Eighteenth century London and the beginnings of silk manufacture in England.
Victory at Valmy: French Revolution.
The Iron Tsar: St. Petersburg during the reign of Czar Nicholas I.
The White Nights of St. Petersburg: 1916, the Russian Revolution.
No Boats on Bannermere: contemporary with publication in the 1940’s.
In fact, I’m excited about reading as many of the books of Geoffrey Trease as I can get my hands on. I like this first book of his that I’ve read far better than I enjoyed the few books by G.A. Henty that I’ve read. Henty is popular among homeschoolers, but I think for exciting and informative historical fiction, I may decide that Trease is better.
Saturday Review of Books: March 19, 2016
“No entertainment is so cheap as reading, nor any pleasure so lasting.” ~Lady M.W. Montague
Welcome to the Saturday Review of Books at Semicolon. Here’s how it usually works. Find a book review on your blog posted sometime during the previous week. The review doesn’t have to be a formal sort of thing. You can link to your thoughts on a particular book, a few ideas inspired by reading the book, your evaluation, quotations, whatever.
Then on Friday night/Saturday, you post a link here at Semicolon in Mr. Linky to the specific post where you’ve written your book review. Don’t link to your main blog page because this kind of link makes it hard to find the book review, especially when people drop in later after you’ve added new content to your blog. In parentheses after your name, add the title of the book you’re reviewing. This addition will help people to find the reviews they’re most interested in reading.
After linking to your own reviews, you can spend as long as you want reading the reviews of other bloggers for the week and adding to your wishlist of books to read.
The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap by Wendy Welch
The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap: A Memoir of Friendship, Community, and the Uncommon Pleasure of a Good Book by Wendy Welch.
I forget where I saw a reference to this delightful nonfiction book about a little bookstore in rural southwestern Virginia (Appalachia), but big thanks to whomever it was that recommended the book to me. The actual name of the eponymous bookstore is just about too long to fit on the cover of the book: Tales of the Lonesome Pine Used Bookstore, Crafts, and Cafe. The owners Jack and Wendy Welch serve up Scots shortbread, tea, both iced and hot, and loads of used books in every conceivable genre. Ms. Welch, in her memoir about how two inexperienced innocents started a used bookstore on a shoestring and a prayer, gives unwary wannabe bookstore owners fair warning: running a halfway profitable and successful used bookstore is hard work, especially in a small town of about 5000 people. Don’t try this at home, folks. Well, the Welches did try it at home (they live upstairs above the bookstore); however, after reading The Little Bookstore of Big Stone Gap, I wouldn’t dare to copy their business plan. If you are an aspiring bookseller, I would at least advise reading Ms. Welch’s book to get some idea of what you may be getting yourself into.
Nevertheless, this book about books and bookish people was a great read. As you can see from this video of A Typical Day at Tales of the Lonesome Pine, the little bookstore would be a lovely place to visit, even with all the cats and dogs running loose. (I’m not an animal person, but I love my books enough to put up with a few animals.)
When Ms. Welch quoted C.S. Lewis, Edith Schaeffer, and the Dalai Lama within the first fifteen pages of her book, I knew I had found a kindred spirit. Then, the subtitle of “community and the uncommon pleasure of a good book” is so akin to my little project of creating a community of families who love good books in my little private library. I just settled in and read all about Jack and Wendy and their adventures and misadventures in their little bookstore. I promise that if I ever get anywhere near southwestern Virginia and Big Stone Gap, Tales of the Lonesome Pine Bookstore will be high on my itinerary. And just reading about it made me want to go on a used bookstore adventure trip of my own.
So, what are the best used bookstores in your neck of the woods? Where do you go when you want to browse, and smell, and dip into a multitude of old books?
Saturday Review of Books: March 12, 2016
“[D]on’t ever apologize to an author for buying something in paperback, or taking it out from a library (that’s what they’re there for. Use your library). Don’t apologize to this author for buying books second hand, or getting them from bookcrossing or borrowing a friend’s copy. What’s important to me is that people read the books and enjoy them, and that, at some point in there, the book was bought by someone. And that people who like things, tell other people. The most important thing is that people read… ” ~Neil Gaiman
Welcome to the Saturday Review of Books at Semicolon. Here’s how it usually works. Find a book review on your blog posted sometime during the previous week. The review doesn’t have to be a formal sort of thing. You can link to your thoughts on a particular book, a few ideas inspired by reading the book, your evaluation, quotations, whatever.
Then on Friday night/Saturday, you post a link here at Semicolon in Mr. Linky to the specific post where you’ve written your book review. Don’t link to your main blog page because this kind of link makes it hard to find the book review, especially when people drop in later after you’ve added new content to your blog. In parentheses after your name, add the title of the book you’re reviewing. This addition will help people to find the reviews they’re most interested in reading.
After linking to your own reviews, you can spend as long as you want reading the reviews of other bloggers for the week and adding to your wishlist of books to read.
The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt
Another book for my Around the World project, The Letter for the King (De brief voor de Koning) was published in 1962 by the Dutch author Tonke Dragt. It won the Children’s Book of the Year award in the Netherlands and subsequently in 2004 was chosen as the best Dutch youth book of the latter half of the twentieth century. The book has been translated into over sixteen languages, most recently with an English translation by Laura Watkinson.
It reads like a translation from some other language or some other world, which helps rather than hinders the sense of an otherworldly quest in another time and place. The simplicity of language, sentence structure and plot all remind me of Malory’s Morte D’Arthur. The setting is also Arthurian, but in an imaginary world of three kingdoms, knights with different colored shields and horses, and just a touch of magic and wonder.
Tiuri, a young squire about to become a knight, is interrupted during his overnight vigil which precedes his knighting by a whispered call for help. Tiuri cannot resist the urge to go to the aid despite his promise to keep vigil without talking or leaving the chapel all night. And so Tiuri’s real vigil and real testing begin. The Black Knight with the White Shield who asks for Tiuri’s help gives him a letter to take to the king of a neighboring kingdom. Tiara must keep both the letter and his mission to deliver it secret.
The rest of the book chronicles Tiuri’s journey, both his journey to Unauwen, the kingdom where he is to deliver his secret and vital letter and his journey to manhood and knightly honor and valor. Tiuri learns to keep his word and stay the course, not in a one night vigil, but in many weeks of dangerous travel through treacherous terrain with enemies all about him. He learns to trust the trustworthy, to show kindness even to his enemies, and above all, to remain faithful to his quest.
Those children who enjoy the Arthurian stories as retold by Howard Pyle or Sidney Lanier or Roger Lancelyn Green should enjoy this tale of knights and adventures set in another medieval world similar to the Arthurian one in tone, culture, and values. The underlying moral code and understanding is Christian, with Christian symbols and artifacts such as chapels, a crucifix, monks, and prayers popping up all through the story, even if Christ and Christianity are never mentioned explicitly. Christian values are illustrated in Tiuri’s quest: mercy, faithfulness, love, and courage.
The Letter for the King is a more straightforward, less complicated journey story for fantasy lovers who want a big thick novel but are not quite ready for the three volumes of The Lord of the Rings. As a follow-up or companion readalike to the tales of King Arthur and his knights of the Round Table, this book would be perfect. Ms. Dragt wrote a sequel to A Letter for the King, Geheimen van het Wilde Woud (Secrets of the Wild Woods) in which a grown-up Tiuri has more knightly adventures.
Kiffe, Kiffe Tomorrow by Faiza Guene
I have finally made some progress on my Around the World project, a project with a goal of reading a children’s book from each and every nation of the world. I may have cheated here, however, since the book is not really Algerian but rather Parisian, but since it’s my own project I get to make up the rules.
Kiffe, Kiffe Tomorrow is a book set in Paris, written by a Frenchwoman of Algerian descent whose parents were immigrants to France from Algeria. Ms. Guene writes in the voice of her protagonist, Doria, perhaps from experience: the back cover of my book says that Faiza Guene “grew up in the public housing projects of Pantin, outside Paris.” It’s voice that that’s almost unrelentingly pessimistic and depressed. Daria’s father has deserted them and gone back to Morocco to re-marry, since Daria, a girl, is the only child her mother has been able to give her father, a traditional Arabic Muslim who wants a son above all. Fifteen year old Daria feels unloved and unwanted and unmoored. Her mother is struggling with a bad job, illiteracy, and the loss of her husband. Daria herself struggles in school and tries to find some sort of dream or role model to hold onto, but mostly fails. Or the dreams and the people she looks up to fail her. Either way, it’s a bad life, and in some ways it gets worse as the book progresses. Daria flunks out of school and is sent to a vocational high school. Her real-life crush turns out to be a drug dealer who’s too old for her anyway, and she finds out that her TV-crush is gay. Her dreams are unrealistic and mostly unachievable. One day she’s going to become a film star, the next a politician. Then, she wants to marry a rich guy who will take her out of the poverty she lives in. Or she thinks she might win the lottery.
The ending is ambiguous. Daria might make it out of the projects—or she might not. The title of the book reflects this ambiguity. Kiffe, Kiffe comes from the Arabic term kif-kif, meaning same old, same old. But it’s combined in Daria’s made up phrasing with the French verb kiffer which means to really like something or someone. So, kiffe, kiffe tomorrow indicates that Daria’s life may be the same old rut of poverty and failed dreams, or it may happen (tomorrow) that she finds something or someone she really likes to rescue her from her fate.
I can’t imagine that anyone, even a teen from the slums who identifies with Daria and her unrelenting unhappiness and cynicism, would read this book for enjoyment. However, it does end with a little ray of hope, and the narrative painted a realistic picture of the attitude and the actions that a life of poverty can engender in a young teenager who is trying desperately to find some sort of meaning and vision for her life. I didn’t like Daria very much, but I understood a little of why she thought the way she did. Perhaps reading this book will help me have a little more empathy for the people I come across who are trying to grow up and to climb out of poverty.
I don’t think I learned much about Algeria, however, or about Algerian children’s literature. The book is set, as I said, in Paris, and although the author is of Algerian parentage, she chose to send Daria’s father back to Morocco, not Algeria. I suppose I learned a bit about North African immigrants living in France. Anybody know of any children’s books actually from Algeria?
A Pocket Full of Murder by R.J. Anderson
“In the spell-powered city of Tarreton, the wealthy have all the magic they desire, while the working class can hardly afford a simple spell to heat their homes. Twelve year old Isaveth is poor, but she’s also brave, loyal, and zealous in the pursuit of justice–which is lucky, because her father has just been wrongfully arrested for murder.” (From the blurb on the front inside cover)
I enjoyed A Pocket Full of Murder for several reasons. First, the book combines two of my favorite genres: magical fantasy and murder mystery. The fantasy world in A Pocket Full of Murder is well-imagined, with lots of rich detail. There are fun, made-up, Lewis Carroll-esque words like “neevils” and “Duesday” and “gobblewit” that are novel, but pretty much self-explanatory in context, and not so plenteous that they become annoying. The society and culture are described through the words and actions of the characters, Isaveth and her family and Isaveth’s mysterious friend with an eyepatch, Quiz. Isaveth belongs to a religious minority called the Moshites (think Jewish or other religious minority), and Quiz is a street urchin turned detective, also jack-of-all-trades, who volunteers to help Isaveth as she works to clear her father’s name and find the real murderer. The story includes trade unions and nobility and a partly democratic government and a manufacturing base and merchants and class divisions—all sorts of interesting elements to explore in a fully envisaged society.
As far as the murder mystery part of the book is concerned, I’m not really very good at guessing the murderer, even though I’ve read lots of Agatha Christie and Rex Stout and Dorothy Sayers, and sure enough, I didn’t guess the villain in this one until near the end. That said, it was fairly obvious when the solution presented itself, and you may be better at solving mysteries than I am. I would guess that middle grade readers are more like me and won’t see the twist and turns until just before they read about them. R.J. Anderson says in her author blurb that she’s a fan of the Golden Age detective novels of Dorothy Sayers and Margery Allingham, and the influence shows in the book, but in a children’s bookish sort of way. The similarity of Isaveth and Quiz to Harriet Vane and Lord Peter Wimsey was just a hint, but enough to add a whimsical air to the mystery.
I also liked the themes embedded in the books. Again, the themes are subtle, no preachiness at all. But Isaveth learns to value her heritage and her religious beliefs, even though the Moshites are shunned and sometimes persecuted by the larger society of Tarreton. Politicians are shown to be sometimes corrupt, even those who seem to be promising to work on behalf of the poor and the working class. (Any application to current U.S. politics is purely a function of the universal truth that politicians don’t always follow through on their promises–and sometimes have purely selfish motives for their seeming altruism.) And truth and justice are the primary values of the minority in a city that is filled with corruption and injustice. I like the idea of teaching , through story, that truth will out in the end and that even though evil may not be completely defeated in this world at this time, it can be battled and foiled for a particular time in a particular place.
The ending is sufficiently satisfying to call it a happy ending, but also leaves an opening for a sequel. I would certainly like to revisit Isaveth and Quiz, and I think you might be in the same camp after reading A Pocket Full of Murder. And sure enough, the second book in the “Uncommon Magic” series, A Little Taste of Poison, is due out in September, 2016. I recommend the first volume to mystery and fantasy lovers everywhere.