Saturday, October 8, 2016

Eugene Gochenour's Memoir: Boating Tales and Wild Times

Continuing sharing from my father's memoirs, this week I offer his chapter on Boating Tales and stories about Dad's fishing trips with his friend Skip Marvin.
Dad and a five-year-old me
I grew up on the Niagara River. Mom would have a picnic dinner ready so when Dad got off work at the gas station we could take off and have dinner on the boat. Dad would fish for Bluegill, Sunfish, and Perch. At dusk we would watch the lights come on along shore as we headed back to the dock.

If I got weary I crawled into the hatch and cuddled on the extra life preservers. I thought the buoys Dad talked of as "telling the boats where to go" about were "boys" wearing metal cans on their heads as they floated on the water. I imagined that when a boater was lost he would call down to the boy and ask, "Which way to Tonawanda?" And the boy would point in the right direction.

When the boat was going fast, hitting the water in a pounding rythym, I worried that we were hitting fish's heads like in a cartoon. I felt bad for the fish. That didn't stop me from enjoying eating them, even after watching Dad prepare the fish!
*****
Nancy age seven on Dad's boat on the Niagara River
"A few years after Joyce and I got married, she bought me a boat for my birthday. Since she handled the money I didn’t know we could afford it, so it was a big surprise to me. It was a 12 -oot runabout that my uncle Ed had built. It was like new, and it had a 20-horse Mercury outboard motor on it. It came with a homemade wooden boat trailer.

"My brother-in-law Ken and I used it for fishing on the Niagara River. One day we took it out and stopped at our campground on Grand Island, which at that time was near Mesmer’s Super Club located just a few hundred feet upriver from our camp. It had a huge lawn that went to the river edge and it looked like a Southern mansion. So we tied our boat to our camp dock and went ashore. There was no one there, and we just stopped to take a break.

"We were only on shore a few minutes when we looked back at the dock and saw that the boat was gone. Then we saw it drifting down the river. The river had a strong current there, and the boat was sure moving! So then we saw a passing boat, and waved to get his attention. When he saw us, we pointed to our boat, and he drove to it.

"He hooked a rope onto the transom but when he tried to tow it luckily the rope broke. If the rope had not broke he probably would have sunk my boat. He was too far away to hear us hollering, so all we could do is watch. He should have just picked one of us up, and taken him to our boat, but instead he tried to tow it two more times. Of course each time the rope broke.

"By now he had drifted far down the river and luckily the Coast Guard boat that was stationed nearby saw him and checked him out. The Coast Guard boat then came to our dock and picked us up to take us to our boat that was by now far down river. On the way he gave us a lecture on tying boats to docks. When we got to it we got in and thanked him. At that time we were probably about four miles upriver of Niagara Falls. Too close for comfort! Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong when you are boating.

"On another day Ken [Ennis, married to Dad's sister Alice] and I were going to do some fishing by Strawberry Island. I was running the engine and Ken was in the bow, and when we got to where we were to fish, I cut the motor and Ken threw in the anchor. This was great, except the anchor was not tied to the boat, and we watched it disappear into the deep. We lost that one, but we had found others that boaters had also lost, so we were about even.

"One Sunday I drove over to our camp on Grand Island hauling my boat on it’s homemade wooden trailer. There was a cut in the river bank where I thought I could launch my boat. So I backed the trailer into the water, then got into the boat to drive it to our dock. I started toward the dock, but when I looked back, the car was slowly backing into the river. When the boat trailer backed into the river, it floated downstream, and hooked on to a piling. So I docked the boat, and ran back to my car. The emergency brake had not held, but luckily the car engine did not get wet so it would still run. Luckily some of my relatives came, and they hooked a car to mine to help by towing, while others lifted the trailer off the piling. After that I made sure the brake held, and never backed the trailer into the water where it would float.

"There were always guys hanging around the station. Many times we would make plans to go on local fishing trips. One time Skip Marvin, Bob Cole, and I decided to go fishing for Northern Pike at Sodus Bay. We had talked about it for weeks. Sodus Bay was about 125 miles away on Lake Ontario, and so we hooked up the old boat trailer and took off late one evening. Just as we got there, it started to rain. We put the boat in, and found a bridge to fish under.

"The rain just kept getting worse, and since we had caught no fish, we decided to go to a bar that was on the bay, and have a drink, and play some pool. When the bar closed we took the boat back to the boat launch, and loaded it on to the trailer. Since the other two were tired they made me drive. When I found myself on a dirt road by an airfield, I woke them up. Skip looked around and said “I told you to go to Fairport, not the airport!” That was like many of the trips we made.

"Skip had a 25-foot Owens boat and he had a dock where he kept it at a marina on Elicott Creek, near the Erie Canal and the city of Tonawanda. He and my brother-in-law Ken and I took off one day in Skip’s boat. We went to the Niagara River and cruised up to Lake Erie. We spent the day fishing out on the lake, then saw a storm setting in. We headed for the break wall and made it just before the storm set in. For protection, we anchored under the stern of a huge lake freighter. After the storm passed, we continued up the lake to Silver Creek to anchor and spend the night. It was dark when we got there so it was slow entering the creek. We went a way up the creek and anchored, then went to sleep. A few hours later we were woke by what sounded like a train running through our boat! Well it was a train, and when it passed we got the flashlight and found that we had anchored under a railroad trestle. Not a good thing to do on a jet black night!"
*****
Skip and Katie Marvin were my folk's friends, but I knew them as Uncle Skip and Aunt Katie. Katie worked as an x-ray nurse. I loved visiting their apartment and playing with their German Sherpherd, Spooks, who was crazy for water. Once he jumped into the bathtub with Katie! The adventures Dad shared with Skip surprise me, as Dad was very straight-laced!
Skip and Katie Marvin with Spooks
"Skip and Katie Marvin were good friends of Joyce and I. Skip and I would usually take off on Saturday evenings to play pool, leaving the wives at home to visit each other. We played at pool halls from Buffalo to Niagara Falls. But sometimes we would go to the Palace Burlesque shows, or fireman’s picnics, or at bars at Riverside. At the bars we played indoor horseshoes or shuffleboard, or danced with some of the very old gals Skip knew. We could dance with them, because unlike young guys, their husbands were not jealous, and we all had a lot of fun. 

"Skip had an Italian car that was called an Isetta. It was a small funny yellow car with three wheels. It had two wheels in the front, and one in back, and the whole front of the car was a door. It was built to hold two people, and used a motorcycle engine to propel itself. It did have a sunroof, and leather seats. In the picture below is an Isetta automobile. It is the same type of car Skip Marvin owned, except his was yellow. It was made by BMW. Skip once made a large cardboard key, painted it black, and taped it on to the rear of the car. It got a lot of laughs as he drove down the street. 

"Skip owned a large German Shepherd dog he named Spooks and sometimes he would take him in the car. Spooks liked to ride with his head sticking out of the sunroof, that was quite a sight too! One evening we packed five guys into that little car and went bar hopping. Luckily we were not stopped by the police, since the car was slightly overloaded. When we went to the bars on Saturday evenings, Skip would drive the little car up on the sidewalk to the front window, and people would come out to see the funny little car. Skip would often give them a ride. Our escapades went on for quite a while, but the wives finally got tired of us coming home so late at night, and that was the end of that! 

"So Skip and I bought a small pool table and kept it at his apartment. He lived above a store that sold beer from around the world, and while we played there we tried them all. Our wives were very trusting and liberal with us, but we were never untrue to them. Maybe they were just happy to be rid of us for a while!

"In 1959, the year Joyce was pregnant with our son Tom, Skip, his wife Katie, and I went canoeing at Quetico Provincial Park in Canada. The park is on the Canadian border, north of Minnesota. It was a twenty-one hour ride from Tonawanda. We had planed the trip since the previous winter. The trip took us through Canada, Michigan, and Minnesota. Skip and I took turns driving three hour shifts. 

"During the winter we had written to an outfitter, and he had given us instructions on how to get to his business and what to bring. When we arrived at Winton, a small town in Minnesota, he outfitted us with everything we needed. The canoe, pots, pans, dried food, and other camping gear were provided. The canoe was packed to the hilt with all our provisions and the three of us, even though it was seventeen foot long.

"Quitico Provincial Park is a designated wilderness area. There are no towns, buildings or homes within the park area. There are hundreds of lakes, some rivers, and a few waterfalls. Most travel in the park is by canoe, since no motor boats are allowed, and you must use an existing campsite, not make a new one. Anything taken into the park must be taken out when you leave. Airplanes were not allowed to fly lower than three thousand feet when above it. Everything possible was done to keep the area in a wilderness state. We spent a week and caught and ate many fish. The water was so clean, we took a cup with us and drank straight from the lake. We saw very few people, and had a great time.
Skip Marvin and Gene Gochenor at Quetico
"Then in 1967 Skip and I took off again for Quetico. On the way through upper Michigan we got lost when we made a wrong turn. We saw a restaurant that was just beyond where we were to turn, and went in to eat. When we came out we didn’t go back to turn, but continued on. We started up the Keweenaw peninsula. There were no road signs and after about fifty miles we saw a bar, and thought we would have a beer, and ask where we were. I guess they seldom saw strangers, and when they were talking to us they asked us if we were going to Hurley. We didn’t know what they were talking about. We told them we were lost, and they told us how to get back on the route. They said since we were going near, we should stop at Hurley. At that time all we could think about was to get to where we were going. 

"The car ran great, and going through Michigan Skip had it going 100 miles an hour at one time. That was really moving, since the speed limit at that time was 55 miles per hour. We had taken a five horse outboard motor of Skip’s with us, and when we got to the outfitters we mounted it on the canoe, loaded our fishing tackle and supplies, and headed to the Canadian border. 

"Once there we registered with customs and bought a fishing license. Then off we paddled to find our first campsite. The first lake in the park was called Basswood Lake, and we camped at Basswood Falls where the lake empties into a river. On the way there we broke our outboard motor recoil spring for the pull start. We didn’t have many tools, but somehow we took it apart, heated the spring over a fire, and reassembled it. 
Skip and Katie Marvin at Quetico
"Camping at the falls was beautiful. The weather was great and we caught many fish. When we caught fish we would put them on a stringer to keep them alive, then take them back to camp and put them in a small pool we had made. When we decided we had enough, we would put them back on a stringer and take a picture of each other with the fish. We kept enough to eat, and let the rest go. 
Dad carrying the canoe while Skip supervises
"I probably only weighed 130 lbs in those days, but I was the one that carried the canoe on the portages. Some of them were about a quarter of a mile long. I remember one in particular. We had a map of the area and saw there was a small isolated lake. We found a trail that seemed to lead to it, and decided we would like to canoe it. So I put the canoe on my shoulders and we took off up the trail. Well we hadn’t gone far before we came to an area where a wind storm had knocked down trees over the trail. It was hot and sticky and the mosquitoes were fierce. The trail was narrow, and I got to a place where I could not go further. So I set the canoe on a fallen tree and swatted mosquitoes. 

"I was worn out, and as I stood there I heard a beaver slap his tail at a nearby small pond. It was like him saying “well, stupid, what did you get yourself into now?” Skip was coming behind me and I told him I could go no farther and we would have to go back. All during this I was swatting mosquitoes like mad. Since I only had on shorts and a t-shirt I was very vulnerable. I finally got turned around and got out of there, but I was totally bitten. I did learn that the old saying “look before you leap”does not just apply to jumping. I learned to check out the trail beforehand. 
Gene Gochenour 

"Once when we were fishing we heard splashing, and curious to find out what it was, we went to where we thought the noise was coming from. We soon saw a Northern Pike flopping on the surface. It had a fish tail sticking out of its mouth. We ran the boat next to the fish, and brought it in. We did not know what to expect, but it did not struggle as we pulled a fairly large walleye out of his mouth, and put him back in the water. But he still just flopped around. So once again we pulled him back in the boat, and this time Skip squeezed the fish until two more walleye came out. When we put it back in the water the second time, it just swam away. That fish truly bit off more than it could eat! On another day, we heard flopping noises, and when we went to the spot where the noises were coming from, we saw someone had lost their stringer of fish. There were six large Northern Pike on the stringer, and they were all still alive, so we released them to live another day. We did get a stringer for our good deed. 
Skip Marvin

Skip and Gene

"After a great week we headed back to our outfitter. We were probably forty miles back in the wilderness, so it took us a while to paddle back, but Skip was a good navigator. All we could think of was geting a good meal since we had been living on freeze dried food and fish for a week. So when we got to Ashland, Minn. we stopped at a restaurant called “The Platter.” It was pretty fancy, and sat on a hill overlooking Lake Superior. We both had a heavy beard, because we had not shaved all week, but we went in anyway and had a big steak. After a week of roughing it, the meal was sheer pleasure! 

"After we got that out of the way, we got to thinking about Hurley, and since it was not far off the route we were taking, we decided to go there. We arrived late in the afternoon, and the town was pretty much deserted. As we walked through the main street we noticed there were only bars and liquor stores. Since there were hardly any houses in town, we wondered why there were so many bars. We went into a bar to eat our dinner, and talked to the woman who owned it. She had a daughter, and the two of them ran the bar. The bar looked like something left over from the Gay Nineties. It was dark with a huge long bar, and a huge mirror behind it. The floor was wood, and slanted, and when the beer delivery man came, the barrel he brought rolled right on by us to the back room where it was to be stored. Skip and I got a chuckle out of that. 

"It was early evening when we went to the next bar and it had a stage where some old burlesque queens danced. These gals were really over the hill! While we were at the bar, they came by and tried to get us to buy them some drinks. I was shy around women, and didn’t particularly want their attention, but I didn’t know what to say, so I told them I was sight seeing! I guess they got the message, because they left me alone, and bugged Skip. 

"By now the town was getting busy. The town was isolated, so people must have come from a hundred miles away. We sat down at a table, and a few of the gals joined us. Skip was a very out-going person, and he got to talking about our trip, and he also told them that he owned a bar at Niagara Falls. He told them he would hire them, and all the benefits that would go with the job. Since it was getting late I told Skip I was going back to the motel, and I left him there. On the way back to the motel, I saw drunks physically thrown out of bars, and from the motel window I saw cars honking, people fighting, and hollering at each other. It was a wild, crazy town! It reminded me of how some wild west towns were in the old days. I saw police walking through town, but they did not seem to pay much attention to what was going on. Just a normal night for them, I guess. Skip got in late that night and was tired the next morning, so I had to drive. He told me that the night before the women ended up buying him drinks! 

"When we got home I sat Skip’s outboard motor next to the garage door where I kept my boat. I took my boat over to the river to fish, and when I came home I backed the boat trailer into the garage, but in doing so I bumped the motor and it fell over, then the trailer tire ran over it. It cost 125 dollars to repair it--as much as the trip to Quetico!
*****
Researching Hurley, Wisconsin I discovered it had quite a history of booze, prostitution, strip joints, and gangsters--including the Capone boys! This 'Sin City' provided 'services' to lumberjacks and copper miners and just plain ignored prohibition. Perhaps its a good thing Dad wrote his memoir after Mom passed! 

A favorite story about Dad's naiveity from the late 1960s: Dad worked at the Highland Park, MI Chyrsler plant and drove down Woodward Avenue to get to work. He noticed that the janitor was waiting at a bus stop and arranged to pick him up mornings. Dad admired the janitor, an Africian American who was working his son through Med School. If Dad arrived before the janitor, Dad would pull over and wait for him. The bus stop was not in a very good part of Detroit. One day a lady opened Dad's truck door and tried to get in. He paniced and said, "No! I'm waiting for a guy!" Dad would chuckle telling the story. 

Friday, October 7, 2016

The Nix by Nathan Hill

In Norwegian folklore a Nix is a shapeshifting spirit that lures the unsuspecting to a watery death,. Sometimes appearing as a white horse it will enchant a child onto it's back then plunge into the water, drowning it's rider. Faye tells the story to her son Samuel; the lesson, Faye explains, is that "the things you love the most will some day hurt you the worst."

I was eager to read The Nix by Nathan Hill. Luckily, my local librarian let me know a copy was languishing on the new book shelf for five whole days, which was slaying her, just waiting for me to come in and take it home.

I set aside everything else to spend the weekend reading it. I can't wait to read it again.

Hill has given us a book with great characters, a book with humor and heart, a wise recreation of the world Boomers grew up in, an insightful consideration of the reality of young people today, and with razor sharp exactness, considers the American way of life, politics, inter-family relationships, and ultimately, the nature of truth. Plus for all the terrible things that go wrong in Samuel and Faye's lives, it has a happy ending.

It's about as ambitious a novel as its gets. Perhaps it is the Great American Novel of the decade.


"When Samuel was a child reading a Choose Your Own Adventure novel, he'd keep a bookmark at the spot of a very hard decision, so that if the story turned out poorly, he could go back and try again. More than anything he wants life to behave this way."

Samuel is treading water in a sad job, with a history of failure, seeking escape through online role playing games. Until he gets a call from a lawyer representing the mother who abandoned him 20 years previous. Faye has been arrested as a terrorist after throwing gravel at a politician so awful he makes our current candidates look stellar. Samuel uses the opportunity to discover why Faye abandoned him. The pivitol moment that defined Faye's life was the 1968 Democratic Convention and the student protests that ended in police brutality.

1968. I watched the convention with my Mom, learning (finally, at age 16) how to blow bubbles with bubble gum. It had been a brutal spring, with the death of a boy at school, the photographer for the school paper and yearbook, dead of carbon monoxide poison from sitting in a running car in the family garage. Then there were the murders of Rev. King and Robert Kennedy. I was feeling overwhelmed, disillusioned, angry, and depressed, longing for days of innocence when I still believed in universal goodness (in other words, the year before). Plus, the guy I'd had a crush on for two years still pretended I wasn't there, looking through me as if I were a ghost. The spring and summer of 1968 have gone down in my mind as some of the worst days of my life.

In the novel, Faye grows up with a father who insists on mediocrity and humility. She develops panic attacks and a self-limiting perfectionism. Her boyfriend Henry freaks out when Faye steps out of the proscribed--and very Victorian-- ideal of womanhood. She escapes to a Chicago college, seeking a bigger life than what others have planned for her: contorting herself into the American housewife, the staid lover, a conformist to the lowest common denominator. The house nisse she'd encountered as a girl in her father's basement warned her that misfortune had been heaped on her father's head, and follows down generations. In Chicago, Faye falls into a series of unfortunate events that destroy her hopes and sends her back to the boy waiting for her--and a life she never wanted.

Samuel's quest for the mother brings understanding and empathy, and ultimately inspires him to offer the greatest sacrifice of love: letting his mother go again.

I will be buying a copy of this novel, just so I can underline and note my favorite parts. The character's journeys of self-realization offers pithy insights:

"What Faye won't understand and may never understand is that there is not one true self hidden by many false ones. Rather, there is one true self hidden by many other true ones." 


"What's true? What's false? In case you haven't noticed, the world has pretty much given up on the old Enlightenment idea of piecing together the truth based on observed data. Reality is too complicated and scary for that. Instead, it's way easier to ignore all the data that doesn't fit your preconceptions and believe all the data that does."


"Faye's opinion is that sometimes a crisis is not really a crisis at all--just a new beginning. Because one thing she's learned through all this is, that if a new beginning is really new, it will feel like a crisis. Any real change should make you feel, at first, afraid. If you're not afraid of it, then it's not real change."
Believe the hype. This first novel is a must-read.

The Nix
Nathan Hill
Alfred A. Knopf
ISBN: 978-1-101-94661-9

Read about Nathan Hill's journey to writing of The Nix at:
http://www.nytimes.com/2016/08/27/books/nathan-hill-the-nix.html

Thursday, October 6, 2016

The Whys and Hows of Classical Music

My interest in classical music began as an eight year old piano student, grew in my teen years as I listened to Mom's classical music LPs (a set bought weekly at the grocery store!), and spurred by several school trips to the symphony. My husband and I both love attending symphony concerts. But there is a lot I don't know.

In 2006 Dr. Robert A. Cutietta, Dean of the University of Southern California's Thornton School of Music, began his weekly radio segment Ask the Dean. Callers submitted questions about classical music, and Cutietta found the answers with the help of faculty and experts. Who Knew? Answers to Questions About Classical Music You Never Thought to Ask is a collection of some of the most interesting.

I learned much from this book. The book has a conversational writing style with a nice dose of humor.

140 Questions are arranged in topics:

  • The Orchestra and How it Works
  • The Maestro and Music Director
  • Opera and the Diva
  • The Composer
  • The Performers
  • The Instruments of the Orchestra
  • The Music
  • This and That
I read the book cover to cover, but one could also pick and choose topics to read. Some things I learned: it takes three hours to make an oboe reed; that Joshua Bell (the amazing violinist who we heard a few months ago with the DSO) once busked in the Washington D.C. Metro system earning $32 with only six people stopping to listen; why conductors use batons; and the science of harmonics. 

"All music is about something," Cutietta writes, taking listeners beyond words to universal human experiences. It is always changing as society changes. For those with some interest in classical music this book this book will add to your appreciation.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Who Knew?
by Robert Cutietta
Oxford University Press
Publication October 3, 2016
$16.95 paperback
ISBN: 9780190462543


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

You're Saying it Wrong!

When I saw the book You're Saying it Wrong!, subtitled, "A pronunciation guilde to the 150 most commonly mispronounced words and their tangled histories of misue," I knew it was meant for me.

I am going to memorize this book. I am one of those people who learned my vocabulary from reading, not from hearing the words spoken by the people around me, and consquently I don't know how to pronounce words I understand when I read.

Take chiaroscuro (kee-ahr-uh-SKYOOR-oh, according to You're Saying it Wrong!) I knew it referred to the effect of light and shadow in art, as seen in Rembrandt's The Night Watch. I had no idea how to say it.

I was particularly needed the page "How to Sound Well Read", because although I've read these writers I didn't know how to say J. K. Coetzee (j.m. koot-See-uh), Ta-Nehisi Coates (tah-nuh-HAH-see cotes), and Jonathan Lethem (JON-uh-thun LEETH-em).

But at least I know "How to Sound Like a Season Holder to the Symphony," perhaps because I HAVE BEEN a season ticket holder, and because radio announces know how to pronounce Antonin Dvorak (AHN-to-neen DVOR-zhahk) and Pyotr Ilyich Tchaikovsky (PYAW-ter ihl-YICH chuh-KOFF-skee). 'Rayf" Vaughn Williams was in my pocket--but in "How to Sound Like You 're From Acorss the Pond" I learned that Ranulph is... 'ralph'.

I can now order at the Greek diner with confidence since I know gyro is 'YEE-roh'. Nor will I avoid ordering wine after learning how to say "reece-ling" and "PEE-noh nwar".

There has been a disagreement in America on pronouncing Iran (ee-RAHN) and Iran (ee-Rahk), and Dubai (du-BYE).

Included in the book are sayings that are often misspoken, like 'on tenterhooks', meaning a state of anxious suspense, which many people mistakenly call 'on tenderhooks'.

The authors, siblings Ross and Kathryn Petras, are both 'word nuts' and 'grammer pedants' who have appeared in newspapers, television news, radio shows, and magazines.

I need to get back to my memorization. I have to learn to say my virtual friend's name, Siobhan (shih-VAWN) in case we ever meet in real life.

I received a free book from the publisher through Blogging for Books in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

You're Saying it Wrong
Ross Petras and Kathryn Petras
Ten Speed Press
ISBN 13 9780399578083


Tuesday, October 4, 2016

The Fictional 100: The World's Most Influential Literary Characters

Some fictional characters step off the page to become cultural icons.
In The Fictional 100: Ranking the Most Influential Characters in World Literature and Legend Lucy Pollard-Gott identifies the top 100 fictional characters based on their impact on history, the arts, their longevity, and inter-generational appeal.

Each character is presented with an epigraph in their own words, a synopsis of the story, an analysis of character, and a history of their reinterpretation over time in the media and the arts. The characters exclude any based on historical figures but do include legendary ones. They are culled from  literary traditions across time and the world.

Few people may still read R. L. Stevenson's The Strange Case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde, but because the story has been made into movies, Jekyll/Hyde has become universally recognized. Jean Valjean of Les Miserables found fame in Le Miz but I doubt many of his fans ever read the Victor Hugo book with its long sections on French history.

Hamlet ranks as No. 1 on the list. Interpretation of Hamlet's character has fueled many a critical and psychological study, and actors and directors continue to bring their own slant. The play's influence is international; there is a huge Shakespeare following in Japan today. (World's Elsewhere by Andrew Dickson is about the Bard's international influence.)

Following Hamlet in the rankings are Odyssus (Ulysses), Don Quixote, Eve, Genji, Don Juan, Chia Pao-yu, and Sherlock Holmes.  Many readers will recognize most of these names. Chia Pao-yu, though, was new to me and reading the chapter offered me an education in Chinese literature. I learned that Dream of the Red Chamber was published in 1792 and addresses 'universal issues of the human heart' that are 'explored through the destiny of one fragile, enigmatic boy--Chia Pao-yu."

I enjoyed looking for my favorite characters and reading their essays. Another time I will decide to read about the characters from books I have not read, after which I expect some TBR books will appear on my wish list. This is a nice resource for a reader's library.

I received a free book from the author through a give-a-way. This does not influence my review.


Poetry for Kids: Emily Dickinson

I was intrigued by the Poetry for Kids premier title Emily Dickinson. Edited by Susan Snively and with colorwashed illustrations by Christine Davenier, the volume presents 35 of Dickinson's poems. The poems are grouped seasonally, starting with summer and ending with spring.

Poems include easily accessible favorites such as "A narrow fellow in the grass," "A bird came down the walk," and "I never saw a moor", the whimsical, and those celebrating nature.

Some selections surprised me. "He fumbles at your spirit" talks about "prepares your brittle substance/For the etheral blow" and "Deals with one imperial thunderbolt/That scalps your naked soul." It is the line 'scalps your naked soul' that makes the poem so forceful and wrenching. The commentary reads, "The poet captures the noisy music of a thunderstorm, as if trapped inside a huge piano. The sounds heightens the drama, until the thunderbolt delivers its mighty blow."

Poems dealing with darker feelings, like "There's a certain slant of light", and mortaility and death, including "Because I could not stop for death" and "Safe in their alabaster chambers," are poems that seem very serious for small children to tackle. In the publisher's note, Charles Nurnberg states that "the emotion and mood of poetry, even when it is almost too hard to understand, is so essentilal to undertanding the world around us." Thinking about this, I realize that learning about life through these beautiful poems allows children to gain understanding about difficult things they will encounter through personal experience and through the everpresent media.

Each poem includes word definitions and a brief commentary "What Emily Was Thinking." The forward includes a synopsis of the poet's life and publishing history.

The book is for children grades 3 through 7.

Upcoming titles will include Carl Sandburg and Walt Whitman.

I received a free ebook from the publisher through Edelweiss in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

A word is dead
When it is said
Some say.
I saw it just
Begins to live
That day.
by Emily Dickinson

Emily Dickinson
Poetry for Kids series
Moon Dance Press
$14.95 hard cover
ISBN: 9781633221178

Sunday, October 2, 2016

Mini Reviews: Beloved Animals

Pax by Sara Pennypacker is written for older elementary school readers. I thought it was 'Gary Paulson meets Watership Down" as it combined the elements of adventure and an intrepid boy and a story of the world seen through the eyes of a fox.

Peter's father is going to war and Peter cannot take his pet fox Pax to his grandfather's home. But after leaving Pax behind Peter's feelings of responsibility and deep connection drive him to return to find Pax. Peter's ardous journey teaches him about life; meanwhile Pax finds acceptance in the wild and learns to be in community.

Behind the sweet story lurks humanity's destruction of war. Peter finds help from a war wounded vet who teaches him to seek his own answers while she learns acceptence from Peter.

My son would have loved this book as a child. Peter's lessons of resilency and Pax's adaptation to the wild offers adventure and philosophy; it is also the heart warming story of love between two souls.

I read this book through Overdrive.

Sirius: A Novel About a Dog Who Changed History by Jonathan Crown is a alternate history fantasy/satire set during WWII.

Levin the terrier is an unusual dog who understands multiple languages. Under Hitler's regeim his family renames him Sirius to hide his 'Jewish' heritage. The family escapes Nazi Germany (with the help of Peter Lorre!) and land in Hollywood where Sirius is 'discovered' and becomes a cinema star known as Hercules. After hobnobbing with the stars Sirius is loaned to the Ringling Brothers Circus. By accident during a time machine act Sirius is confused with another dog---and ends up back in Berlin! He takes on the German persona of Hansi, soon the beloved pet of Herr Hitler himself, allowing Sirius to become the ultimate spy for the resistence.

Sirius is a wonderful character who will have you rooting for him all the way. The story is completely unbelieveable, hilarious, reading like a graphic novel or Hollywood Golden Age movie. Who would have thought that the Holocaust could be so much fun?

I received a free ebook from the publisher through NetGalley in exchange for a fair and unbiased review.

Sirius
Jonathan Crown
Scribner
Publication Date October 4, 2016
$25 hard cover
ISBN: 9781501144998