He's always willing to be second best
It turns out my 2015 reading list was actually two short. I had forgotten these two, until I did a little spring cleaning and found them, still un-put-away. And they gave me a smile, since both these reads were very pleasant.
24. La Flor de la Sal (Angela C. Ionescu)
My first complete read in Spanish, and I'm afraid nothing else will compare. A short little chapter book of fairy-tale childhood realism written at a fourth or fifth grade reading level. Very, very good. Too good, really, for its intended audience. :P
It's the sort of book more adults will enjoy than children. Its theme is life and loss and the fragility of innocence, and you can't appreciate those themes when you are actually are small and innocent. This is the sort of read that gives you nostalgia for moments you never actually had.
It's actually not a chapter book so much as a collection of short stories. All were very good, and the penultimate -- "Luz en la oscuridad" -- was sublime. I was swept away by the power of the prose. Which is quite an accomplishment, when one is stopping to look up two or three words every page.
I had the doubt that perhaps it was no better than the others, but that my reading fluency had finally kicked in, so that I was just swimming along. But I cannot really hold to that doubt. A child who is afraid of the dark is lured by a cat into a nighttime revelry among stars and faerie. It is very grave and splendid.
25. Little Men (Louisa May Alcott)
A re-read (obviously. Who didn't read the Little Women trilogy sixty bazillion times as a child?
Oh, most people?
Whatever, man.)
I had seen one of the students reading some L.M. Montgomery during school. Montgomery always reminds me of Alcott -- perhaps because I also read all my Montgomery books sixty bazillion times (or more) as as a child. I preferred Montgomery, in fact. But seeing the Montgomery book put vague Alcott nostalgia in my head. I told myself that "Little Women" had been great but too long to revisit, and the sequels couldn't have possibly been very good. Right?
Right?
Especially Little Men, the weak middle link in the trilogy.
I consciously forgot about it, but my subconscious must have been working hard, because a few weeks I fall asleep trying to remember the details of that part in Little Men where the two boys, what's-their-names, stick by each other even when the rest of the school turns on each successively.
Soon, I couldn't focus till I had found my battered old copy. I found the chapter I had been hazily remembering, entitled (adorably) "Damon and Pythias."
I read it; curiosity satisfied. Right?
Nah, within a week I had gone back and read the whole thing through.
So, the result? Well, it feels rushed, and has somewhat less power than it did as a kid: back then, the world of the Bhaers' little school seemed an all-encompassing reality. Reading it now, it seemed just a bit threadbare -- though that's part of the charm. (Just a bit. I remain impressed, now that I grasp how Alcott's haphazard style of storytelling actually imparts a greater sense of depth to her fictional world.)
Some moments are sterner and severer than I remembered, like Nan's punishment after getting herself and Rob lost. (Nan is also a much better character than I remembered. Love her.)
Other moments are so saccharine! Dan in particular: most of the time, Alcott is trying to emphasize "hidden heart of gold" so much that it the "black sheep wild child" thing doesn't even come through. He softens so quickly. On his very first day he cracks a bit under the magical magic of Jo's magical bond with all motherless boys -- with whom she is practically Mary Poppins. Half of his rebellion consists of making sarcastic remarks under his breath and sometimes not saying "ma'am" or "sir." Spicy! (I exaggerate to a tiny degree. He did introduce Nat, Tommy, and -- hilariously -- Demi -- to poker and smoking. And then, of course, started a house fire. That was probably the best character-defining moment for him.) So half the Dan and Jo moments were a bit too much for me. Which is unfortunate, as Alcott really thought that was where her story was.
Oh, and the Christmas chapter that ends it. Grrr. So syrupy and pointless. It doesn't help that it featured Amy's and Laurie's daughter, the "Little Princess," who is so nauseating.
(Of course, I never like "Christmas episodes." They are so rarely done well, and the better plots are always elsewhere. In addition to Little Men, I think I am here thinking of Thomas the Tank Engine. The first two or so seasons are excellent. But they always ended on a stupid treacley Christmas episodes, where the engines got a party! Which was pointless! They're on rails! They can't enjoy anything!) (Second parenthetical: to be sure, Little Women had a good Christmas episode. They broke the mold, of course, by having their Christmas episode first, as the intro episode. Effective stuff.)
On the bright side, the Thanksgiving chapter that preceded the finale was actually funny and charming. (Should've just ended there!) One especial moment of greatness was that Stuffy, of all characters, got to come out on top of a tiff between the boys. It was very nice to have someone besides Demi or Dan get the spotlight. Or the girls. For a book called "Little Men," and for all Alcott's protests that boys interested her much more than girls she's totes one of the guys wah wah wah, the girls (in the book that she wrote as an excuse to finally write about boys) get a lot of spotlight time -- unfortunate since Nan is the only interesting one.
Ahem. I'm not supposed to be criticizing in this section, am I? The major strength, of course, is the premise. The Bhaers' school seems so perfect -- just what education should actually be. After re-reading this, whenever I was sitting in professional development being regaled with buzzwords, I would just think back to Jo and Fritz's school. Authentic audience? "Oh, like Plumfield." Individualized behavior plans? "Oh, like Plumfield." Project-based learning? "Oh, like Plumfield." Student responsibility and initiative? "Plumfield!" Huh, it sure is nice, isn't it, having 12 13 wasn't it 14 by the end kids in your entire school! I want to open a Plumfield now. :D (Hogwarts was a similarly oh-I-wish school-setting of impossible longings as a child. But Plumfield is actually more out-of-this-world -- while yet having the advantage of being technically possible. So, it's got that goin' for it.)
In addition to its world-building depth, it's funny. All of Demi's speeches about Thanksgiving were a riot! Jo and Laurie still "telegraphing" each other with their eyes -- stop being cute, guys, you're married now, and not to each other. I can't remember all the little jokes throughout the book, but one that sticks in my head is when Nat, new to the schoolroom, is dazzled and despairing after hearing the other boys "go through their geography [drills] with what seemed to him remarkable accuracy and speed." Mwahahaha.
In short: it has charm. But the best bit was undoubtedly the "Damon and Pythias" chapter that I had first gone back to revisit. (Way to go, subconscious!) That little episode worked well: everyone got to act characteristically, and there was a decent plot going. Dan did seem convincingly delinquent-like. Nat comes off a little weaker than he really has to, but the school as a whole gets a chance to shine.
Oh, and some bad news as far as evaluating the quality. Little Men is stronger than I remember. (That's not the bad news!) It was so good, I couldn't resist opening up Jo's Boys afterwards. Guys, that first chapter is very clunky. And now I think carefully, how many good chapters did it have, really? Josie's banter throughout… but not her actual breakout chapter, which was weak; the final nail in the coffin of the Tommy/Nan relationship, and, of course -- of course -- Dan in prison (where the moment when he breaks down with remorse thinking of Jo holds the distinction of the rare literary scene that made me cry! Oh, and it was in a "Christmas episode" too. I guess Alcott usually did do Christmas right.) The play they put on was decent fun, too. But the rest? Ehrm… (And I never bought the melodramatic coincidences that brought Dan back "home.")
Okay, that's several good chapters. But I fear, flipping through it, that it is weaker than I remember. Many more "Nat's New Year" chapters (doesn't that one just aggravate you? How did Nat and Daisy become such sickening characters in this book? They weren't so bad in Little Men, really!) than "Dan's Christmas" chapters. Not willing to risk it!
24. La Flor de la Sal (Angela C. Ionescu)
My first complete read in Spanish, and I'm afraid nothing else will compare. A short little chapter book of fairy-tale childhood realism written at a fourth or fifth grade reading level. Very, very good. Too good, really, for its intended audience. :P
It's the sort of book more adults will enjoy than children. Its theme is life and loss and the fragility of innocence, and you can't appreciate those themes when you are actually are small and innocent. This is the sort of read that gives you nostalgia for moments you never actually had.
It's actually not a chapter book so much as a collection of short stories. All were very good, and the penultimate -- "Luz en la oscuridad" -- was sublime. I was swept away by the power of the prose. Which is quite an accomplishment, when one is stopping to look up two or three words every page.
I had the doubt that perhaps it was no better than the others, but that my reading fluency had finally kicked in, so that I was just swimming along. But I cannot really hold to that doubt. A child who is afraid of the dark is lured by a cat into a nighttime revelry among stars and faerie. It is very grave and splendid.
25. Little Men (Louisa May Alcott)
A re-read (obviously. Who didn't read the Little Women trilogy sixty bazillion times as a child?
Oh, most people?
Whatever, man.)
I had seen one of the students reading some L.M. Montgomery during school. Montgomery always reminds me of Alcott -- perhaps because I also read all my Montgomery books sixty bazillion times (or more) as as a child. I preferred Montgomery, in fact. But seeing the Montgomery book put vague Alcott nostalgia in my head. I told myself that "Little Women" had been great but too long to revisit, and the sequels couldn't have possibly been very good. Right?
Right?
Especially Little Men, the weak middle link in the trilogy.
I consciously forgot about it, but my subconscious must have been working hard, because a few weeks I fall asleep trying to remember the details of that part in Little Men where the two boys, what's-their-names, stick by each other even when the rest of the school turns on each successively.
Soon, I couldn't focus till I had found my battered old copy. I found the chapter I had been hazily remembering, entitled (adorably) "Damon and Pythias."
I read it; curiosity satisfied. Right?
Nah, within a week I had gone back and read the whole thing through.
So, the result? Well, it feels rushed, and has somewhat less power than it did as a kid: back then, the world of the Bhaers' little school seemed an all-encompassing reality. Reading it now, it seemed just a bit threadbare -- though that's part of the charm. (Just a bit. I remain impressed, now that I grasp how Alcott's haphazard style of storytelling actually imparts a greater sense of depth to her fictional world.)
Some moments are sterner and severer than I remembered, like Nan's punishment after getting herself and Rob lost. (Nan is also a much better character than I remembered. Love her.)
Other moments are so saccharine! Dan in particular: most of the time, Alcott is trying to emphasize "hidden heart of gold" so much that it the "black sheep wild child" thing doesn't even come through. He softens so quickly. On his very first day he cracks a bit under the magical magic of Jo's magical bond with all motherless boys -- with whom she is practically Mary Poppins. Half of his rebellion consists of making sarcastic remarks under his breath and sometimes not saying "ma'am" or "sir." Spicy! (I exaggerate to a tiny degree. He did introduce Nat, Tommy, and -- hilariously -- Demi -- to poker and smoking. And then, of course, started a house fire. That was probably the best character-defining moment for him.) So half the Dan and Jo moments were a bit too much for me. Which is unfortunate, as Alcott really thought that was where her story was.
Oh, and the Christmas chapter that ends it. Grrr. So syrupy and pointless. It doesn't help that it featured Amy's and Laurie's daughter, the "Little Princess," who is so nauseating.
(Of course, I never like "Christmas episodes." They are so rarely done well, and the better plots are always elsewhere. In addition to Little Men, I think I am here thinking of Thomas the Tank Engine. The first two or so seasons are excellent. But they always ended on a stupid treacley Christmas episodes, where the engines got a party! Which was pointless! They're on rails! They can't enjoy anything!) (Second parenthetical: to be sure, Little Women had a good Christmas episode. They broke the mold, of course, by having their Christmas episode first, as the intro episode. Effective stuff.)
On the bright side, the Thanksgiving chapter that preceded the finale was actually funny and charming. (Should've just ended there!) One especial moment of greatness was that Stuffy, of all characters, got to come out on top of a tiff between the boys. It was very nice to have someone besides Demi or Dan get the spotlight. Or the girls. For a book called "Little Men," and for all Alcott's protests that boys interested her much more than girls she's totes one of the guys wah wah wah, the girls (in the book that she wrote as an excuse to finally write about boys) get a lot of spotlight time -- unfortunate since Nan is the only interesting one.
Ahem. I'm not supposed to be criticizing in this section, am I? The major strength, of course, is the premise. The Bhaers' school seems so perfect -- just what education should actually be. After re-reading this, whenever I was sitting in professional development being regaled with buzzwords, I would just think back to Jo and Fritz's school. Authentic audience? "Oh, like Plumfield." Individualized behavior plans? "Oh, like Plumfield." Project-based learning? "Oh, like Plumfield." Student responsibility and initiative? "Plumfield!" Huh, it sure is nice, isn't it, having 12 13 wasn't it 14 by the end kids in your entire school! I want to open a Plumfield now. :D (Hogwarts was a similarly oh-I-wish school-setting of impossible longings as a child. But Plumfield is actually more out-of-this-world -- while yet having the advantage of being technically possible. So, it's got that goin' for it.)
In addition to its world-building depth, it's funny. All of Demi's speeches about Thanksgiving were a riot! Jo and Laurie still "telegraphing" each other with their eyes -- stop being cute, guys, you're married now, and not to each other. I can't remember all the little jokes throughout the book, but one that sticks in my head is when Nat, new to the schoolroom, is dazzled and despairing after hearing the other boys "go through their geography [drills] with what seemed to him remarkable accuracy and speed." Mwahahaha.
In short: it has charm. But the best bit was undoubtedly the "Damon and Pythias" chapter that I had first gone back to revisit. (Way to go, subconscious!) That little episode worked well: everyone got to act characteristically, and there was a decent plot going. Dan did seem convincingly delinquent-like. Nat comes off a little weaker than he really has to, but the school as a whole gets a chance to shine.
Oh, and some bad news as far as evaluating the quality. Little Men is stronger than I remember. (That's not the bad news!) It was so good, I couldn't resist opening up Jo's Boys afterwards. Guys, that first chapter is very clunky. And now I think carefully, how many good chapters did it have, really? Josie's banter throughout… but not her actual breakout chapter, which was weak; the final nail in the coffin of the Tommy/Nan relationship, and, of course -- of course -- Dan in prison (where the moment when he breaks down with remorse thinking of Jo holds the distinction of the rare literary scene that made me cry! Oh, and it was in a "Christmas episode" too. I guess Alcott usually did do Christmas right.) The play they put on was decent fun, too. But the rest? Ehrm… (And I never bought the melodramatic coincidences that brought Dan back "home.")
Okay, that's several good chapters. But I fear, flipping through it, that it is weaker than I remember. Many more "Nat's New Year" chapters (doesn't that one just aggravate you? How did Nat and Daisy become such sickening characters in this book? They weren't so bad in Little Men, really!) than "Dan's Christmas" chapters. Not willing to risk it!
