scrounge: /skrounj/ informal verb: to actively seek [books] from any available source
When I was approaching adulthood, there were times when I really didn't care that much for poetry. I felt like I didn't "get" many adult poems, and didn't really seek out reading them. I developed more appreciation for poetry in college, but this volume of poetry has helped remind me that I also appreciated poetry at a younger age.
Sing a Song of Popcorn was published when I was a toddler, and is a collection of poetry for children in which each section is illustrated by a different illustrator, including such well-known names as Arnold Lobel, Maurice Sendak, and Marc Simont. Each section includes a different topic of poetry, such as weather, animals, people, story poems, and more. As a child, I think the "Mostly Nonsense" section was my favorite, as it featured favorites such as "Eletelephony" by Laura E. Richards (I grew up a few miles from the elementary school named after her) and some limericks. I like how the different illustrators all have their own distinctive style.
Other authors include: A. A. Milne, Robert Louis Stevenson, Robert Frost (I originally memorized "Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening" from this book), Ogden Nash, Edna St. Vincent Millay, and many more.
I've been glad to see my kids enjoying this book and picking out poems for me to read to them. Like me at the time, they are more drawn to the silly ones and not as much to some of the more abstract ones at the end (the "Seeing, Feeling, Thinking" section) -- but I enjoy those more now, so I think there's something here for everyone.
Scrounged From: A family gift as a child, and in a box of used books from my sister-in-law as an adult
Format: Hardcover
Author/Illustrator: Various
Pages: 160
Content Advisory: There is a section of "spooky" poems, some of which involve witches and ghosts, and the poem "Isabel" involves the protagonist cutting a giant's head off.
Being Mortal: Medicine and What Matters in the End was such a much-needed look at how the medical system treats death. I had wondered whether it would be depressing to read, and there were certainly sad moments and stories, but it was also hopeful and uplifting, and I found myself losing track of time while reading it sometimes. Even when statistics and information are provided, the narrative moves smoothly enough into stories and commentary to not get bogged down.
Gawande traces some of the history of the way humans have treated end-of-life care, emphasizing the advent of the nursing home, as well as "assisted living" and other attempts to bridge the gap between the hospital and the home. He also includes the stories of the (non-elderly) terminally ill as he explores the questions of what people who are dying really need -- and how we even get to the point where we are able to recognize "dying" for what it is, when we try to stave off death at any cost. He says:
“The problem with medicine and the institutions it has spawned for the care of the sick and the old is not that they have had an incorrect view of what makes life significant. The problem is that they have had almost no view at all. Medicine’s focus is narrow. Medical professionals concentrate on repair of health, not sustenance of the soul. Yet—and this is the painful paradox—we have decided that they should be the ones who largely define how we live in our waning days.”
He contrasts the traditional attitude of medicine, which is to solve problems and offer as much information and possibilities as it can, with the type of care (hospice) that looks to instead focus on the here and now rather than sacrificing the "now" for slim and unlikely future gains for the elderly and terminally ill -- but as he illustrates, it can be very difficult to draw that line.
There were so many eye-opening things to think about here. This is a book that will probably resonate with many people -- even those of us who are not elderly or terminally ill have loved ones who are or will be, and it's worth thinking about what is most important during that journey, and developing a little bit of preparation for difficult conversations that will inevitably happen.
Scrounged From: A local used book sale.
Format: Hardcover
Author: Atul Gawande
Pages: 282
Content Advisory: Naturally, in a book that discusses death, there are many descriptions of people who are aging and dying, as well as some descriptions of their ailments and medical procedures. As I said, some of these are very sad, but the tone of the book overall is uplifting. Other than that, I remember a few minor swear words, but nothing else that I'd consider objectionable. Gawande does briefly mention "assisted death" toward the end, but that's not what the book is about. While he doesn't appear to be opposed to the idea, he also critiques it, and emphasizes that this attitude leaves us in danger of not valuing "assisted living" enough.
White Stallion of Lipizza is probably my second-favorite Marguerite Henry story, after King of the Wind. It can be a great introduction to the Lipizzan horses and their unique art.
The story follows Hans, a baker's son who dreams of becoming a Riding Master someday. He demonstrates a sincerity and passion in his pursuit of knowledge and experience that is admirable and contagious, and his singular focus brings him closer and closer to his goal of someday doing the courbette on his beloved Borina.
I enjoyed reading this in a large format rather than a mass-market paperback -- Wesley Dennis's numerous small illustrations really help tell the story, especially when complex horse ballet movements are described.
Scrounged From: A gift from a relative
Format: Paperback
Author: Marguerite Henry
Illustrator: Wesley Dennis
Pages: 112
Content Advisory: Injury and death are briefly described, but not in detail.
I have read illustrated versions of Silent Night before, but I appreciate this one for a couple reasons.
For one thing, I really like the illustrations, especially the contrasting tones -- the dark backgrounds make the central figures and settings of the nativity story stand out all the more, perfectly portraying the paradox of both "night" and "all is bright," reminding us how strongly a light can stand out in the darkness.
Also, I appreciate that the people in the scenes here are portrayed as the Middle Easterners that they were, with dark skin, rather than Americanized as whitewashed Caucasians, which has long been a problem with the way the nativity (and Jesus in general) has been presented to children.
It can be a lot of fun to "sing" a book to children when we're used to reading, so this is a lovely way to package this beloved Christmas carol.
(Thanks to NetGalley for the review copy.)
Scrounged From: NetGalley.com
Format: Kindle
Author: Joseph Mohr
Illustrator: Lara Hawthorne
Pages: 32
Content Advisory: None
Halloween can be fun, but aspects of it can also be frightening for young children, or for older children who are more sensitive. These are a few books we've come across that cover Halloween without trying to be scary about it.
My children have really enjoyed the Leslie Patricelli board books featuring bright paintings of a bald, smiley toddler who introduces toddler-specific topics with few words. In Boo!, he enjoys October experiences such as picking out a pumpkin and deciding how to carve it, and picking out a costume and going trick-or-treating. At first he's a bit nervous about trick-or-treating in the dark, but once the candy comes out, he gets excited and decides he really does love Halloween.
Featuring Tasha Tudor's gentle illustrations, Pumpkin Moonshine involves Sylvie Ann, a little girl in a pumpkin patch who finds the perfect pumpkin, until it decides to roll away down the hill and into the farmyard, causing a bit of mischief. But by the end, Sylvie Ann and her grandfather manage to corrall the pumpkin and carve it into a moonshine (which is apparently another name for a jack-o-lantern).
I don't always like books that turn into series, but while the seasonal Little Blue Truck books lack the narrative of the original, they are still fun and feature the same lovely illustrations. In Little Blue Truck's Halloween, we meet a bunch of dressed up farm animals, which young children can "unmask" by opening the sturdy flaps. At the end, even Little Blue Truck takes a turn!
Curious George is a classic, and while this isn't my favorite of the bunch, Hooray for Halloween (previously published as Curious George Goes to a Costume Party) is still a fun story of George and the Man with the Yellow Hat attending a party that they didn't know was a costume party. Even though George ends up accidentally scaring the guests with his last-minute costume, it's not designed to scare any young readers.
This is a good book for children who may be apprehensive about Halloween, or who simply like to hear about the traditions. Herbert's First Halloween, by Cynthia Rylant, introduces a pig named Herbert and his caring, involved father who gently walks him through the process of choosing a costume, and in the meantime helps to pique his interest by sharing some of his own childhood memories of Halloween.