Home » Family Reading

Category: Family Reading

Recent Reading: The Search for Delicious, by Natalie Babbitt

We liked Tuck Everlasting so much that we decided to get another book by Natalie Babbitt. We weren’t disappointed.

-Natalie Babbitt, The Search for Delicious (1969)

The Search for Delicious is a fairy tale of sorts. It involves an attempt at defining the word ‘delicious.’ Each member of the kingdom has his or her own opinion. Delicious is an apple; delicious is fried fish, etc. Needless to say, no one can agree on a way to describe what delicious is. This leads to a massive polling of the kingdom, carried out by the main character, a young man/boy named Vaungaylen.

There is  a wicked villain in the story who attempts a massive coup. There are dwarfs and mermaids. It’s a great fairy story. But the argument over what is delicious is the central running theme. Arguments break out everywhere the question is asked, until they surprisingly find something that everyone in the kingdom can agree is delicious. Many of the reviews of the book I’ve read emphasize the attention on diversity and disagreement, and how everyone can ‘find a way to get along in the end.’ But I don’t really think that’s the point at all. They really do agree in the end. There really is something delicious that all can agree on, despite their differing tastes. I won’t spoil the story, but I’ll say this: the thing they all agree is delicious is something that they do not appreciate until it is almost taken away.

This is a beautiful children’s story. It’s funny, it’s serious, and it tackles the interesting issue of objectivity and subjectivity, and how there is something that is objectively delicious, but we often fail to realize it because of our subjective situations. This one goes onto my recommended reading for children list.

Recent Reading: Tuck Everlasting

-Natalie Babbitt, Tuck Everlasting

I think that Resurrection (what ever it exactly means) is so much profounder an idea than mere immortality. I am sure we don’t just “go on.” We really die and are really built up again (C.S. Lewis, Reference).

I thought of that quote from Lewis several times as I read this book with my children.

What if you could drink from the fountain of youth and live forever? What if drugs could extend life beyond what we presently imagine? Those are compelling questions. And it’s the question below those questions that Tuck Everlasting really addresses. I happen to think it addresses it in a beautiful way.

Winnie is faced with a decision. I think she sides with C.S. Lewis. I hope I would too.

 

52 Novels (5): Here, There Be Dragons

I am trying to read a novel a week in 2015. I’ve made it to five.

James Owens, Here, There Be Dragons: The Chronicles of the Imaginarium Geographica

My goal is to read 52 novels this year. But I never said I would have something profound to write about every one.

This book was recommended to me by a young lady because of my love for C.S. Lewis and J.R.R. Tolkien. She explained to me that they were actually characters in the story, and that the story provides, perhaps, a fictional backdrop for how they came up with ideas for their own stories.

Anyhow, I read the book with my 8-year-old daughter. She really enjoyed it, and has started reading the second volume of the series on her own. I wasn’t up for the second volume. I simply didn’t enjoy the book very much. The real Lewis and Tolkien are strangely more fascinating than the fictional version. And their own fiction is certainly better by a long, long way. I’d much rather read The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe or The Hobbit for the dozenth time than read this book. I’d rather my kids read them too.

My daughter is a big fan of The Sisters Grimm series. She mentioned that the hodgepodge elements of the book, as it blends together a number of myths and fables and characters into one story, reminded her of those books. That was a big plus for her.

I will say that if you plan to read this book with a child, and if that child knows who Lewis or Tolkien is, it would probably be better to keep the identities of ‘Jack’ and ‘John’ a secret until the actual revelation of their true identities at the end of the book. She knew ahead of time, and that took away some of the fun of the big reveal.

Recent Reading: The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson

The Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, by Robert Louis Stevenson

I have been on a drought in my book choices lately, but the last two have been home runs. My daughter and I decided to read this book together, mostly owing to two things: 1) she had recently memorized a poem by Stevenson and 2) I have wanted to read it for quite some time. We’re all familiar with the ‘idea’ of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. But perhaps it helps to take the time to read the book.

I knew nothing of Stevenson, other than his literary works. Then, after reading Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde, I read THIS. Stevenson had a Presbyterian pedigree, but he had spurned the covenant of his fathers. That made the book all the more interesting. I won’t try to psychoanalyze the author here, but only offer a few thoughts.

First, if you are familiar with the New Testament, you cannot escape the connection of this book with Romans 7. A quick Google search proved the point by yielding 101,000 results for ‘Romans 7 Dr. Jekyll.’ The inner battle of Dr. Jekyll is eerily reminiscent of the battle of the man of Romans 7. But, in a strange twist, Dr. Jekyll actually desires to be rid of his ‘better self.’ If he could only separate the good man from the bad man then there would be no more battling of the conscience. Through his drugs, the good Dr. become Mr. Hyde, and is wholly free from the tyranny of c0nscience.

Let me make two quick points on the story that I want to jot down for future reference.

First, in regards to the Romans 7 relationship, the ending of the story is quite interesting. Dr. Jekyll essentially ends with ‘O wretched man that I am!’ It holds out no hope. Romans 7, on the other hand, is followed by Romans 8:1-2: ‘There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus, for the law of the Spirit of Christ has set you free, in Christ Jesus, from the law of sin and death.’

I once heard an author I like, N.D. Wilson, describe Flannery O’Connor stories like this: imagine the apostle Paul riding his horse on the way to Damascus. He is then blinded by a great light and knocked off his horse. Thus ends the story. There is no resolution. She doesn’t go on to tell us that he became the great apostle. It is only left for us to infer what happened next. There is a sense in which Dr. Jekyll’s story could have been that. Romans 8:1-2 could have been left hanging following the ‘O wretched man that I am!’ But it’s not… But in my mind it is.

The great hope we have is that we can turn our eyes and our minds away from our wretched selves to the Lord Jesus Christ. The struggle of flesh against Spirit, of the sinful nature against the regenerate heart can be great. It can thoroughly beat you down and make you want to give up. Robert Louis Stevenson captures that psychological element masterfully. But he has no hope to offer in the end. The only way hope could come is if the end would have been left hanging – if Jekyll remained on life support. But he doesn’t.

Second, I want to think for a moment about Dr. Jekyll’s ‘tincture. He is a Dr., and his means of transformation is drugs. I’m sure there are lessons in this. For starters, one recognizes in this story that the line between medicine and magic is very thin. What is a ‘draft’ or a ‘syrup’ for one could be a potion for another. A physiological condition for one could be an enchantment or demon possession for another. It all depends on how the story is told and which view you are inclined to take. The character of Dr. Jekyll alludes to this himself in some ways, calling Mr. Hyde a ‘familiar spirit.’ As one who works in the pharmacy industry, I always try to keep in mind that things aren’t always as mechanical as they seem. You can read another cautionary tale, this time non-fiction, HERE.

The takeaways for me are simple: 1) this story is very instructive for giving insight into parts of Romans 7 (but not Romans 8; we have to get there ourselves), and therefore into the human psyche. 2) It is a cautionary tale for us today about messing with our physiology through chemicals. 3) It is a startling picture of a man left without the grace of God – common (Mr. Hyde) and saving (Dr. Jekyll).

On Funny Bits

‘Tell me one [book] that you like.’

‘I liked The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, Matilda said. ‘I think Mr C.S. Lewis is a very good writer. But he has one failing. There are no funny bits in his books.’

‘You are right there,’ Miss Honey said.

‘There aren’t many funny bits in Mr Tolkien either,’ Matilda said.

‘Do you think all children’s books ought to have funny bits in them?’ Miss Honey asked.

‘I do,’ Matilda said. ‘Children are not so serious as grown-ups and they love to laugh.’

Miss Honey was astounded by the wisdom of this tiny girl…

– Roald Dahl, Matilda (Puffin), pp. 80-81

This is one of the parts I’m glad they left out of the movie. Here comes some rambling.

I read Matilda with my daughters some time ago. They had already seen the movie, and loved it. My soon-to-be kindergartener informed me today that she is wearing a red ribbon in her hair on the first day of school in honor of Matilda. She also informed me that she would be brave, like Matilda, if she found herself wanting to cry. This conversation led my mind back to that one dreaded passage in Matilda that ruined the whole book for me (really, it ruined all of Dahl’s work for me, as if the work itself wasn’t enough).

I did not read much as a child. I can only remember reading, or being read, a few books (a small enough number that you could count them on one hand). The two that stood out the most were Number the Stars, by Lois Lowry, and James and the Giant Peach, by Roald Dahl. I had very fond memories of those books, and I always planned to read those books to my children one day. I read Number the Stars twice with my oldest daughter, and both she and I loved it. James and the Giant Peach, not so much. But, since my kids loved the movie, I thought we’d give Matilda a try.

I found, in that book, as well as the James book, what every other critic of Dahl found before me. His books tend to be based on children who are mistreated by adults and ultimately find vengeance, justification, and liberation. Of course, there are ‘funny bits’ along the way: most of those ‘funny bits’ involve the kids pulling pranks as a means of revenge against adults (this is much more the case in Matilda than in James). Perhaps it is the ‘serious’ adult in me, but I didn’t really find great humor in the so-called funny bits. In Matilda, I saw a miraculously gifted child using those gifts to do the same things to mean adults that they did to her. There is no meekness in Matilda, though she garners much sympathy as a character in other ways.

But now let me get to my point. I would have given Matilda a meh regardless, but the little dig that Dahl takes at Lewis and Tolkien just makes it worse in my mind. I am amazed that a Welshman took the time to call anyone too serious. I don’t know a lot of Welshman, but the ones I know are fairly serious. That is actually a strength in my mind. Lewis and Tolkien were no Welshman, but seriousness was a strength of theirs as well.

As for Tolkien, his seriousness is a joyful seriousness. He never plays with magic flippantly (in contrast to Matilda or Harry Potter). Wizardry and witchcraft are serious business for him (as well as for Lewis). He painted dark pictures so that the sun could shine brighter. So did Lewis. Lewis may not have had funny bits (though if you do not find Puddleglum or the Monopods funny…), but his work is filled with joviality, which is better than the flippant sort of ‘funny’: joviality, not jocularity.

I experiment with comedy. I watch the effects it has on people, including myself. I grew up watching stand up comedy. I didn’t read books, but my parents let me watch HBO and Showtime (don’t even ask). I saw Eddie Murphy’s stand up routine by the time I was 10, and Andrew Dice Clay (yep), and Gallagher, and Howie Mandel, and Sam Kinison, and Rodney Dangerfield, and Bill Cosby, and others. I always loved sketch comedy, like Saturday Night Live. Seinfeld is my favorite TV show…ever. Hardly a day goes by that I don’t quote something from Seinfeld…not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I digress.

I used to be a big practical joker. I repented of it when Jesus Christ called me out of darkness and into light. I have come to take Proverbs 26:18-19 seriously: “Like a madman shooting firebrands or deadly arrows is a man who deceives his neighbor and says, “I was only joking!'” I am still an amateur comedian. I love puns; I love jokes; I love to laugh and make people laugh. But I don’t want to spread the creeping death of mockery and revenge humor (even though it is in my nature to do so, and to want to do so). I don’t want to speak ‘corrupting speech’ (Eph. 4:29), including corrupting humor, that causes rot and decay, that ruins souls by making them flippant and bitter (read a bit about that HERE). I’m a work in progress, because I’m sarcastic by nature (my dad’s a New Yorker, what can I say?). So I share these thoughts to encourage myself (and others). Even for comedy, there is a more excellent way.

I have found that there is quite a difference between the frivolous laughter that comes from a smart alek remark (and I make too many of those) and the deep laughter that comes from something that provokes true joy or insight. Dahl provides the first kind. Lewis and Tolkien provide the second kind. Lewis and Tolkien provide darkness so that the light may shine brighter; Dahl is just light (like a feather). I vote for Lewis and Tokien, and pray that this is the kind of laughter I will give to my children: not the stand up comedy kind, not the practical joke kind, not the potty humor kind, but the rejoicing in the midst of sorrow kind – serious joy. God help me.

May you be funnier than the flippant without being flippant; more merry than the one who’s had one too many without having one too many yourself; more perceptive and insightful than the stand up comedian; more humorous than the funny pages without turning into a  walking funny page yourself; more laugh-out-loud hysterical than those who resort to body-part-humor without feeling the need to demean the things that God has created. May you be light-hearted and still have a weight and substance and fullness in your soul. That is all.

Recent Reading: The Magic City, by Edith Nesbit

I have yet to read anything by Edith Nesbit that I didn’t enjoy. Her children’s books tend to be a bit long and plodding at times for the modern reader suffering from distractions and attention deficits, but that is part of what makes them all the more worthwhile. They are entertaining, yet countercultural reading for the modern child. At times her writing smacks of well-to-do Victorian England. But hey, that’s the world in which she lived. Not everyone has ponies and large gardens, but that shouldn’t cause us to despise her stories.

Her dialogue is always a pleasure, and this book has a lot of it. Her moral vision is helpful, and this book has plenty of that as well. This is not a review, and I will not spoil anything; I will simply give my main takeaways from the story.

The Magic City is imaginatively enlivening. The main character, Philip, is an imaginative builder, as most children are. What child in the presence of sand would not build a sandcastle? The difference is that Philip’s toy building projects come to life. His play castles become real castles in an alternate world.

Philip is orphaned and lives with his older sister. The main story revolves around Philip’s struggles as his older sister gets married. He will no longer be the main focus of her life. This causes his struggles. His new stepsister, Lucy, comes into play and has a sanctifying influence on Philip – drawing his hatred at first, but ultimately winning his love and making him a better person through her own. Chivalry comes to life in a new context with these two brave children, as they seek, despite the friction of being new step-siblings, to deliver Philip’s magic city from the hands of a Destroyer.

The love and devotion of children, in the midst of heartbreak and confusion, is the great takeaway of the story. It provides an imaginative glimpse into how bravery, humility, sacrifice, and selfless love (witnessed and practiced) can change even, or especially, a child. In addition to that, the lively imaginative feel of the book is inspiring for those who aspire to greater creativity. I heartily recommend the book to families with young children. My eight-year-old daughter enjoyed it tremendously, and I did as well.

The book is available in print or FREE for Kindle HERE. You can read an overview HERE. You can read a wonderful introduction to her life and writing HERE.