2023 EDIT: Remains a lovely, charming children's classic, about childhood and wonder - wonders small and big. Though I wish it had been consistent in its POVs. I think Arrietty should have stayed the main character from beginning to end, but as it is it's all over the place. We get no real conclusion to Arrietty's character arc. And who the heck is the village boy with the ferret at the end? He comes out of nowhere and he literally does nothing. But given how the story's told and how it ends, maybe all this was intentional?
'The Borrowers' is adorable and dynamic, and I will keep it treasured on my shelf.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
A quiet little (pun unintended) classic children's fantasy. What kid wouldn't like to imagine fifteen cm tall or lower people living under their floorboards, inside their walls, in their gardens and burrows, and sneaking around on their tables and dressers and mantelpieces and curtains?
It's a fairy tale that, to a child already so small in the big scary world, can seem plausible, for there to be people even smaller than they are, also surviving as best they can.
These miniature people, the Borrowers, actually nick neglected human stuff, and only call it stealing when their "borrowed" items are taken and used by another Borrower. They think that humans ("human beans") only exist for them to take from, unaware that the world is so much bigger than they could possibly fathom. Their world is in fact a lot smaller and more insignificant than they would like to admit.
Mary Norton writes in good detail without going overboard. Characters and action come first in 'The Borrowers', and it can be read in a day.
Amid the creative tidbits and trinkets that are used for alternate purposes by the Clocks, the family of Borrowers that the reader follows, I also really like the spirited, independent and inquisitive Borrower Arrietty (lovely name). At thirteen-years-old, Arrietty is a reader, a writer of diaries, and an adventurer who is just learning about the limits of her world and her existence via a human boy who spots her by chance, in the garden while she is relaxing on her first borrowing errand with her father, Pod.
Are the Clocks really the last surviving Borrowers? Is Arrietty's poor, struggling species dying out? As if she didn't feel lonely and isolated enough. A lot of young children and teenagers can relate to her, I believe.
I can't forget the wilfulness of Arrietty's slightly-fretful mother Homily, either. Homily manages to be domesticated, strict, commanding, neurotic, materialistic, superficial, somewhat selfish, yet also fair, loving, and understanding towards her outgoing and growing (for a Borrower) daughter. A female character like her who is this well balanced, nuanced and three-dimensional, without being insulted and shamed for her vices by the narrative, without changing her ways, needs to be remarked upon; most extraordinary for a book that was written in the fifties.
'The Borrowers' is considered a timeless children's classic for a reason. There is imagination and love worked into it, and it is very good at capturing a child's viewpoint. It's wide-eyed, curious, and humble, with an existentialist thread and theme cleverly stitched in; it's small but it's there, just like a Borrower, adding a melancholic edge to the story.
We all long for the fresh, innocent childhood years gone by; for the days of summer cottage and house holidays, of the outside countryside air, sun, flowers, and trees. 'The Borrowers' can take you back to that time and preserve it for you, to read a little again and again. For there are stories that are timeless, even though nothing lasts forever.
Final Score: 4/5
Friday, 30 August 2019
Thursday, 29 August 2019
Non-Fiction Book Review - 'Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading' by Lucy Mangan
2023 EDIT: I read a lot of the books recommended by the author of this memoir. A few I really liked, but most of them are actually rubbish, if I do say so myself. Our tastes are very different. Too different. I disagree with her on quite a lot of things, as it turns out.
'Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading' - a good, sweet concept, but unfortunately - and ultimately - this book about books is not really for me. I trust in my own tastes, to help me in what to read next.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
Brilliant. A must-read for all bookworms.
Well, now I have a whole new set of books recommended to me on the backfile. Mostly it contains all the childhood faves of others that I had missed out on, deprived and stupid child that I was. But I suppose all bookworms catch up on anything in their own time, at their own leisure and pace.
Despite disagreeing with Lucy Mangan more often than not on book opinions - and maybe it's because I'm a very picky reader who's so hard to impress that I'm less open to her open-mindedness - by the end of 'Bookworm', her absolute passion for books, her introverted nature, her necessity to read as a top priority in life, her research and knowledge which stumps mine by a London library's worth, won me over utterly. Her voice, her experiences, they are as valuable as anyone else's. Our love of books and stories alone make us kindred spirits (plus we're both Brits).
'Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading' is a nostalgic charm - for the life of the youth in the past ('70s, '80s, '90s) as well as for classic children's literature - that will wrap you up under its soft, quilted spell. I could taste and smell the bookworm's passion for words on pages within.
Never let paperbacks and hardbacks die. They are an aspect of innocence past that should be passed on and endured, in each new generation, to keep on educating and enriching lives, so as not to be lost. Let the dogeared live forever. We worms, who should be considered butterflies in society, need our nourishment.
Books are treasures: they contain a powerful discovery, a magic, of their own. Ink, words, paper, dust, stories with substance and sustenance - all read and breathed in.
All lived and carried on in people's minds for a lifetime.
Final Score: 4.5/5
'Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading' - a good, sweet concept, but unfortunately - and ultimately - this book about books is not really for me. I trust in my own tastes, to help me in what to read next.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
Brilliant. A must-read for all bookworms.
Well, now I have a whole new set of books recommended to me on the backfile. Mostly it contains all the childhood faves of others that I had missed out on, deprived and stupid child that I was. But I suppose all bookworms catch up on anything in their own time, at their own leisure and pace.
Despite disagreeing with Lucy Mangan more often than not on book opinions - and maybe it's because I'm a very picky reader who's so hard to impress that I'm less open to her open-mindedness - by the end of 'Bookworm', her absolute passion for books, her introverted nature, her necessity to read as a top priority in life, her research and knowledge which stumps mine by a London library's worth, won me over utterly. Her voice, her experiences, they are as valuable as anyone else's. Our love of books and stories alone make us kindred spirits (plus we're both Brits).
'Bookworm: A Memoir of Childhood Reading' is a nostalgic charm - for the life of the youth in the past ('70s, '80s, '90s) as well as for classic children's literature - that will wrap you up under its soft, quilted spell. I could taste and smell the bookworm's passion for words on pages within.
Never let paperbacks and hardbacks die. They are an aspect of innocence past that should be passed on and endured, in each new generation, to keep on educating and enriching lives, so as not to be lost. Let the dogeared live forever. We worms, who should be considered butterflies in society, need our nourishment.
Books are treasures: they contain a powerful discovery, a magic, of their own. Ink, words, paper, dust, stories with substance and sustenance - all read and breathed in.
All lived and carried on in people's minds for a lifetime.
Final Score: 4.5/5
Tuesday, 27 August 2019
Book Review - 'Heckedy Peg' by Audrey Wood (Writer), Don Wood (Illustrator)
A slightly modern ('80s) original fairy tale that is haunting yet charming, a little scary yet delicious (look at all the food!), and stunning in every way; much aided by the breathtaking artwork. It took me back to my childhood of reading illustrated fairy tale books.
'Heckedy Peg' is about how nothing is more powerful than a mother's love and affection for, and knowledge of, her children. It is about why children should listen to their mother's reasonable dos and don'ts of life - for the witch, albeit an old, reclusive, disabled one, is a metaphor; there are worse things to be wary of in real life. It is about never letting strangers into the house, and never touching fire; it shouldn't be used for anything other than cooking, light and warmth (smoking is bad, too, kids!). It is about hard work being rewarded. It is about outwitting your foes.
'Heckedy Peg' is about a lot of things. But the biggest that is to stick in a child's mind is: love and appreciate your mama for all she does for you.
Darkness and a bit of nightmare fuel in the art can be good for kids. They learn from a little fear and uneasiness; it's good human instinct, and good fairy tales should reflect this. They should also pour in an equal measure of light and hope, culminating in the famous "happily ever after". 'Heckedy Peg' provides exactly this spectacle and treat.
It's just that I'd like to read fairy tales that are a bit more subversive, where the witch isn't evil and typically old and ugly (and disabled with a peg leg, in this case). But oh well.
A classic gift.
Final Score: 4/5
'Heckedy Peg' is about how nothing is more powerful than a mother's love and affection for, and knowledge of, her children. It is about why children should listen to their mother's reasonable dos and don'ts of life - for the witch, albeit an old, reclusive, disabled one, is a metaphor; there are worse things to be wary of in real life. It is about never letting strangers into the house, and never touching fire; it shouldn't be used for anything other than cooking, light and warmth (smoking is bad, too, kids!). It is about hard work being rewarded. It is about outwitting your foes.
'Heckedy Peg' is about a lot of things. But the biggest that is to stick in a child's mind is: love and appreciate your mama for all she does for you.
Darkness and a bit of nightmare fuel in the art can be good for kids. They learn from a little fear and uneasiness; it's good human instinct, and good fairy tales should reflect this. They should also pour in an equal measure of light and hope, culminating in the famous "happily ever after". 'Heckedy Peg' provides exactly this spectacle and treat.
It's just that I'd like to read fairy tales that are a bit more subversive, where the witch isn't evil and typically old and ugly (and disabled with a peg leg, in this case). But oh well.
A classic gift.
Final Score: 4/5
Book Review - 'And Tango Makes Three' by Justin Richardson, Peter Parnell, Henry Cole (Illustrator)
Based on the true story of how two gay penguins in the Central Park Zoo helped to hatch an egg together, and how they became two daddies to the little girl chick Tango. Because it takes two to raise Tango.
Because not all families look the same. All that matters is that they love and care for one another.
Move over, Pingu; there are new cute penguins for children to idolize in town. Another advantage they have over you is that they are actually real.
'And Tango Makes Three' - Purely wholesome and adorable. Roy and Silo clearly loved each other and had desperately wanted a baby of their own as an expression of that love and tenderness, seemingly given so freely and easily to the other, heterosexual penguins at the zoo. It is a refreshing, touching gem for any child at bedtime. And it was published in 2005, at that.
Of course such a harmless look at real life has been banned. But when has that ever meant anything? Any book straying even microscopically from the Christian conservative, straight white male fragility and insecurity-default-and-catering gets banned. When has it ever stopped anyone reading it? If anything the whole ludicrous, archaic practice is self-defeating: people will want to read banned books far more than any others, since "banned" is an indicator that they're good.
I guess it is true: homosexuality may exist in all species. Homophobia exists in only one: human.
Final Score: 5/5
Because not all families look the same. All that matters is that they love and care for one another.
Move over, Pingu; there are new cute penguins for children to idolize in town. Another advantage they have over you is that they are actually real.
'And Tango Makes Three' - Purely wholesome and adorable. Roy and Silo clearly loved each other and had desperately wanted a baby of their own as an expression of that love and tenderness, seemingly given so freely and easily to the other, heterosexual penguins at the zoo. It is a refreshing, touching gem for any child at bedtime. And it was published in 2005, at that.
Of course such a harmless look at real life has been banned. But when has that ever meant anything? Any book straying even microscopically from the Christian conservative, straight white male fragility and insecurity-default-and-catering gets banned. When has it ever stopped anyone reading it? If anything the whole ludicrous, archaic practice is self-defeating: people will want to read banned books far more than any others, since "banned" is an indicator that they're good.
I guess it is true: homosexuality may exist in all species. Homophobia exists in only one: human.
Final Score: 5/5
Book Review - 'Little Red Reading Hood' by Lucy Rowland (Writer), Ben Mantle (Illustrator)
'Little Read Reading Hood' is an absolute dream come true.
A 'Red Riding Hood' retelling where our little red girl is a bookworm, her grandmother is substituted for a librarian, and the wolf - a stand-in for any bad person - becomes a better person by reading, too? See, kids: reading can make you smarter, nicer and more empathic.
The delight of a picture book is a colourful and explosive wonder for any bookworm, down to the littlest bibliophile in the making. As well as containing great messages, 'Little Red Reading Hood' is cleverly meta - the book that Red Reading Hood returns to the library in the wood is 'Little Red Riding Hood'. There is a story point to this.
I'm still giddy thinking how happy I am that this exists! There are ever so many ways that a fairy tale can be retold in any era. This modern 'Little Red Reading Hood' is feminist AF and celebrates paperbacks and hardbacks and libraries and stories and nature! No violence here, only charm and humour.
The rhyming is fun, too, and suits the adorable artwork beautifully. Another big plus? Red isn't so blind and stupid as to believe the wolf in librarian's clothing is her librarian right away.
'Stories can end any way that you please!'
'Whilst leaving footpaths should never be done,
Straying from stories is all sorts of fun!
'A beanstalk grew up from the crack in the floor,
"Come on!" Snow White shouted. "It's time to explore!"'
Read 'Little Red Reading Hood' to as many children as you can. The world will thank you later.
Final Score: 5/5
A 'Red Riding Hood' retelling where our little red girl is a bookworm, her grandmother is substituted for a librarian, and the wolf - a stand-in for any bad person - becomes a better person by reading, too? See, kids: reading can make you smarter, nicer and more empathic.
The delight of a picture book is a colourful and explosive wonder for any bookworm, down to the littlest bibliophile in the making. As well as containing great messages, 'Little Red Reading Hood' is cleverly meta - the book that Red Reading Hood returns to the library in the wood is 'Little Red Riding Hood'. There is a story point to this.
I'm still giddy thinking how happy I am that this exists! There are ever so many ways that a fairy tale can be retold in any era. This modern 'Little Red Reading Hood' is feminist AF and celebrates paperbacks and hardbacks and libraries and stories and nature! No violence here, only charm and humour.
The rhyming is fun, too, and suits the adorable artwork beautifully. Another big plus? Red isn't so blind and stupid as to believe the wolf in librarian's clothing is her librarian right away.
'Stories can end any way that you please!'
'Whilst leaving footpaths should never be done,
Straying from stories is all sorts of fun!
'A beanstalk grew up from the crack in the floor,
"Come on!" Snow White shouted. "It's time to explore!"'
Read 'Little Red Reading Hood' to as many children as you can. The world will thank you later.
Final Score: 5/5
Sunday, 25 August 2019
Book Review - 'Mrs Wobble the Waitress' by Allan Ahlberg (Writer), Janet Ahlberg (Illustrator)
One of my first stories from childhood that I remember most vividly. I guess old-fashioned cafes (look at the food!) and waitresses are my thing as a British girl. Charming, humourous, and fun.
There is no doubt that wobble is a great word to repeat over and over again. Wibble-wobble, wibble-wobble!
Final Score: 4/5
There is no doubt that wobble is a great word to repeat over and over again. Wibble-wobble, wibble-wobble!
Final Score: 4/5
Saturday, 24 August 2019
Book Review - 'Kindred' by Octavia E. Butler
Content warning: Spoilers, mentions of slavery, rape, sexual assault, misogyny, and internalized misogyny.
I am well aware that there likely isn't any "right" way I can review, nay criticize, such a beloved and acclaimed classic about race and slavery, without bringing up a lot of uncomfortable topics, in trying to explain what bothered me about it specifically.
As a white woman, I know I really have no right to criticize a book containing this subject matter, as well as a stream of interconnected matters, that is written by a woman of colour. Also as a sensitive person, I am always afraid of offending anyone. But I guess that can't be helped sometimes, when voicing an opinion, which I can't keep locked up any longer.
Oh mercy, will this opinion be controversial. But I wish to let people know some things about 'Kindred', whether they have read it or are thinking about reading it.
Most of the problems I have with 'Kindred' - about an African American woman in the 1970s, Dana, who keeps being mysteriously transported to the 1800s Maryland plantation to save her white ancestor from getting killed in his various antics - are summed up in this Goodreads review here. You can read that in order to get a good idea of why I might in fact despise this book that should have been important and relevant today.
But for my own review, I'm just going to throw up my hands and get down to the point; why I hate 'Kindred':
It expects the reader to sympathise with a rapist.
It expects the reader to sympathise with a serial rapist, who remains completely unrepentant throughout the book. He never changes, never grows, never thinks of anyone's feelings but his own.
It has the black female protagonist sympathise with and keep making excuses for said white male rapist, who doubly is a slave owner. Again and again, she excuses his actions. She gives in to his tantrums and orders. And she is supposed to be a highly-educated modern woman with forward-thinking views, trapped in a time of slavery, where she has no rights whatsoever, and is in constant danger of being whipped, raped and killed.
I hate Dana, pure and simple. I hate her white rapist ancestor, Rufus, more, but Dana's condoning and excusing him and insinuating that he is just misunderstood and lonely and oh-so-in-love-he-can't-help-himself-blah-blah-blah, makes her just as bad as he is. I will say that at first I was fully engrossed and engaged with 'Kindred' and its writing style, and Dana had strong convictions and was fully aware of how horrible the situation she was in truly was. She was petrified and confused, and she felt for other slaves and their plight.
But then:
The longer Dana stays in the past, the more passive and accepting of her slave role she becomes. She has no inner strength, nor is she merely playing the part in order to survive in an impossible time, she is just a selfish, self-abnegating Uncle Tom and doormat. I can't count how many times she says, in her first person narration, "I obeyed", in relation to white men telling her what to do, even her white husband in the present time, offering no resistance or hesitation whatsoever. No thought is made of her using the word "obeyed" and other submissive slave terms internally. And she's meant to be a modern black woman! Why would she be like this? Why is she growing weaker and more submissive from her experiences instead of more committed to her own rights and causes, and those of other black people who have suffered throughout the ages?
Dana grows much more heartless towards black people as well. She ends up holding no sympathy for or understanding of her fellow slaves. None. Instead of making friends and confidantes - making any real kind of positive connection - she judges them and makes false assumptions. She seems to think that some slaves are content with their lot in life (like with the mammy cook, Sarah). No, Dana, they wouldn't be. Not for themselves or for their children who are sold off to auctions in other areas as soon as they're old enough to hold a full bucket of water. And that's if they're lucky, or else they're sold as babies. Dana thinks and does nothing about this.
Well, actually, she does have plenty of thoughts. But I think that this paragraph and a half - coming right after she tells Sarah that escaped black slaves do learn to read and will write about their struggles for freedom in books, and Sarah refuses to believe it - sums it all up:
'She had done the safe thing - had accepted a life of slavery because she was afraid. She was the kind of woman who might have been called 'mammy' in some other household. She was the kind of woman who would be held in contempt during the militant nineteen sixties. The house-n[****]r, the handkerchief-head, the female Uncle Tom - the frightened powerless woman who had already lost all she could stand to lose, and who knew as little about the freedom of the North as she knew about the hereafter.
I looked down on her myself for a while. Moral superiority. Here was someone even less courageous than I was. That comforted me somehow.' - page 159
What a contradictory whiplash!
Dana, you hypocritical, sociopathic arsehole. You have no shame. No integrity. No dignity.
Alice is as justified in hating you as she is in hating Rufus, her rapist. (Oh yes, I'll talk about Alice in a bit.)
Is Dana emulating the slaves' calm demeanour put on in order to survive for their families? Her inner monologue reflects nothing like this, or there isn't enough of it. If she is judging the slaves for their passivity, well, that would be awfully hypocritical of her. Not much empathy for the cowed, fearful, beaten slaves, either, even when she gets whipped and beaten every day she is stuck in the past, which Rufus barely interferes with. In fact the lazy, spoiled, selfish, racist, misogynistic bastard does virtually nothing to help her and others. Because he knows he benefits from slavery. He truly is the patriarchy personified. Not that Dana ever realises this.
Anyway, Dana's self-preservation skills are no better than most of the other slaves who actually had to grow up in the 19th century American South, yet she still judges them. As much as she admonishes Rufus, at the same time she tries to understand and empathise with him, a white rapist slave owner. But the slaves themselves? Our heroine doesn't give them nearly enough positive attention.
She's worse when it comes to considering the female slaves - who are typically girl-hating, girl-backstabbing, and fighting amongst themselves. Black sisterhood, what's that, Audre Lorde?
Whichever way you interpret it, Dana is terrible.
The closest she actually comes to making a lasting difference in the slaves' lives is secretly teaching some of them to read, but that's a small detail and it doesn't go anywhere in-story.
Doesn't this sound twisted to anyone else?
Then there's how our lovely Dana treats Alice.
Poor Alice.
Alice is Rufus's childhood friend. And because Dana's life revolves solely around Rufus and keeping him safe and happy - understandable seeing as her existence depends on him reproducing, but this point is hardly addressed, disturbingly - she only sympathises with him as he repeatedly rapes Alice. Dana goes so far as to claim that Rufus is only doing this because he loves Alice (he, a manipulative and gaslighting crybaby, tells her as such, and she stupidly believes him), and that Alice is a stubborn, coldhearted, ungrateful bitch for refusing his advances. She slut-shames and victim-blames her.
Dana, a black woman, actually talks Alice, another black woman, into giving in to Rufus, a white slave owner. She basically tells her, "Be happy already, he loves you. What other choice do you have? He won't be so violent if you come quietly, and you could grow to love him, too,"
Alice.
A slave.
A rape victim.
A domestic violence victim.
A mother.
In a time and place where she has no rights to speak of.
Who in fact shows more agency, assertion, survival skills, anger at the injustices surrounding her, and general fight in her than our 1970s black woman protagonist.
She is punished and eventually killed off for being a termed "angry black woman".
Alice: who is also Dana's ancestor, but it is Rufus, the white male rapist slave owner (I cannot stress that point across enough), whom Dana feels kindred to. Whom she feels protective over.
Sisterhood never meant shit.
It is all about Rufus and making him happy. It isn't just about his survival so that Dana would one day exist. It is Rufus who controls Dana's life, even making her come to his time whenever he is in danger (it doesn't bother me that the time travel aspect of the book isn't explained, since I like a bit of ambiguity in my classic lit, and it isn't that important compared to everything else). Dana relies on him for her own survival; she keeps waiting to be rescued by him, keeps being surprised whenever he, a deceptive rapist slave owner, disappoints her, and she does whatever he tells her to do, like a good slave, even when she does call him out on his bullshit and keep talking to him.
She believes Rufus "loves" Alice, but as an educated woman she should know that rape and love have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Rape is a form of power over others, and that's that. Dana never comes to this conclusion. Alice, the victim, is only acting up like a difficult child ( as if Rufus isn't! and times a million! ), and may love him after all ( why?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ). No one and nothing to blame but Rufus's upbringing.
Dana only effectively stands up to Rufus, only realises that hey, maybe he isn't such a nice guy, when, at the very end, he attacks and tries to rape her. Alice, his other black female victims, pfff, fuck them, literally: it isn't until Dana herself is being attacked by the oh-so poor rapist slave owner - who seriously has no redeeming qualities - it isn't until her world is shattered by the shock that he could do such a thing to her - that she finally does something about him.
There are not enough "fuck off"s in the entire universe for me to express my rage and disgust at all this.
Dana is a heinous, baffling, inconsistent, selfish, stupid, heartless cow, whose life revolves around the needs and wants of her white male relatives, and has fucked up priorities for a woman of her position.
What exactly has she learned from her journey and experiences, anyway? Not a lot, from what I've read. She starts out progressive, smart and headstrong, but her experiences with legalised slavery and forced submissiveness seem to have left her regressive and worse off than before. She doesn't really do anything once she is returned to her own future time for good. Isn't this retroactively backwards for a book about such sensitive, vital and relevant issues?
Rufus is a spoiled, entitled, whiny, self-absorbed, cunning, manipulative, violent, hateful, disgusting, misogynistic, racist manchild and fuckstain on the underwear of society - and he receives more attention, more sympathy, more of a "character arc", than Alice and the other slaves put together.
Why should we care about this monster? Why does Dana, against her better judgement?
I shall safely leave the review at that. I don't know what else to write, without adding further food for the fire. I'm sure there is a reason why the issues of rape, victim-blaming, internalized misogyny and internalized misogynoir seem to keep being glossed over and ignored whenever 'Kindred' is praised as a masterpiece by millions of people. It is very well-written and addictive, and effectively horrifying... just not always in the right places.
I won't dare to speculate what the author thought, or hadn't thought, when she wrote it. I suppose, as a 1979 publication, 'Kindred' is still a product of its time. Though the author ought to have known better; that the prejudices of racism and misogyny are linked. Black women helped to bring light to what is termed "intersectional feminism". What about "discrimination doesn't discriminate"?
I recommend reading Audre Lorde's works instead of this. They are far more positive, enlightening, and female-friendly. They in no way excuse the patriarchy and let it go unchallenged, for one.
Final Score: 0/5
I am well aware that there likely isn't any "right" way I can review, nay criticize, such a beloved and acclaimed classic about race and slavery, without bringing up a lot of uncomfortable topics, in trying to explain what bothered me about it specifically.
As a white woman, I know I really have no right to criticize a book containing this subject matter, as well as a stream of interconnected matters, that is written by a woman of colour. Also as a sensitive person, I am always afraid of offending anyone. But I guess that can't be helped sometimes, when voicing an opinion, which I can't keep locked up any longer.
Oh mercy, will this opinion be controversial. But I wish to let people know some things about 'Kindred', whether they have read it or are thinking about reading it.
Most of the problems I have with 'Kindred' - about an African American woman in the 1970s, Dana, who keeps being mysteriously transported to the 1800s Maryland plantation to save her white ancestor from getting killed in his various antics - are summed up in this Goodreads review here. You can read that in order to get a good idea of why I might in fact despise this book that should have been important and relevant today.
But for my own review, I'm just going to throw up my hands and get down to the point; why I hate 'Kindred':
It expects the reader to sympathise with a rapist.
It expects the reader to sympathise with a serial rapist, who remains completely unrepentant throughout the book. He never changes, never grows, never thinks of anyone's feelings but his own.
It has the black female protagonist sympathise with and keep making excuses for said white male rapist, who doubly is a slave owner. Again and again, she excuses his actions. She gives in to his tantrums and orders. And she is supposed to be a highly-educated modern woman with forward-thinking views, trapped in a time of slavery, where she has no rights whatsoever, and is in constant danger of being whipped, raped and killed.
I hate Dana, pure and simple. I hate her white rapist ancestor, Rufus, more, but Dana's condoning and excusing him and insinuating that he is just misunderstood and lonely and oh-so-in-love-he-can't-help-himself-blah-blah-blah, makes her just as bad as he is. I will say that at first I was fully engrossed and engaged with 'Kindred' and its writing style, and Dana had strong convictions and was fully aware of how horrible the situation she was in truly was. She was petrified and confused, and she felt for other slaves and their plight.
But then:
The longer Dana stays in the past, the more passive and accepting of her slave role she becomes. She has no inner strength, nor is she merely playing the part in order to survive in an impossible time, she is just a selfish, self-abnegating Uncle Tom and doormat. I can't count how many times she says, in her first person narration, "I obeyed", in relation to white men telling her what to do, even her white husband in the present time, offering no resistance or hesitation whatsoever. No thought is made of her using the word "obeyed" and other submissive slave terms internally. And she's meant to be a modern black woman! Why would she be like this? Why is she growing weaker and more submissive from her experiences instead of more committed to her own rights and causes, and those of other black people who have suffered throughout the ages?
Dana grows much more heartless towards black people as well. She ends up holding no sympathy for or understanding of her fellow slaves. None. Instead of making friends and confidantes - making any real kind of positive connection - she judges them and makes false assumptions. She seems to think that some slaves are content with their lot in life (like with the mammy cook, Sarah). No, Dana, they wouldn't be. Not for themselves or for their children who are sold off to auctions in other areas as soon as they're old enough to hold a full bucket of water. And that's if they're lucky, or else they're sold as babies. Dana thinks and does nothing about this.
Well, actually, she does have plenty of thoughts. But I think that this paragraph and a half - coming right after she tells Sarah that escaped black slaves do learn to read and will write about their struggles for freedom in books, and Sarah refuses to believe it - sums it all up:
'She had done the safe thing - had accepted a life of slavery because she was afraid. She was the kind of woman who might have been called 'mammy' in some other household. She was the kind of woman who would be held in contempt during the militant nineteen sixties. The house-n[****]r, the handkerchief-head, the female Uncle Tom - the frightened powerless woman who had already lost all she could stand to lose, and who knew as little about the freedom of the North as she knew about the hereafter.
I looked down on her myself for a while. Moral superiority. Here was someone even less courageous than I was. That comforted me somehow.' - page 159
What a contradictory whiplash!
Dana, you hypocritical, sociopathic arsehole. You have no shame. No integrity. No dignity.
Alice is as justified in hating you as she is in hating Rufus, her rapist. (Oh yes, I'll talk about Alice in a bit.)
Is Dana emulating the slaves' calm demeanour put on in order to survive for their families? Her inner monologue reflects nothing like this, or there isn't enough of it. If she is judging the slaves for their passivity, well, that would be awfully hypocritical of her. Not much empathy for the cowed, fearful, beaten slaves, either, even when she gets whipped and beaten every day she is stuck in the past, which Rufus barely interferes with. In fact the lazy, spoiled, selfish, racist, misogynistic bastard does virtually nothing to help her and others. Because he knows he benefits from slavery. He truly is the patriarchy personified. Not that Dana ever realises this.
Anyway, Dana's self-preservation skills are no better than most of the other slaves who actually had to grow up in the 19th century American South, yet she still judges them. As much as she admonishes Rufus, at the same time she tries to understand and empathise with him, a white rapist slave owner. But the slaves themselves? Our heroine doesn't give them nearly enough positive attention.
She's worse when it comes to considering the female slaves - who are typically girl-hating, girl-backstabbing, and fighting amongst themselves. Black sisterhood, what's that, Audre Lorde?
Whichever way you interpret it, Dana is terrible.
The closest she actually comes to making a lasting difference in the slaves' lives is secretly teaching some of them to read, but that's a small detail and it doesn't go anywhere in-story.
Doesn't this sound twisted to anyone else?
Then there's how our lovely Dana treats Alice.
Poor Alice.
Alice is Rufus's childhood friend. And because Dana's life revolves solely around Rufus and keeping him safe and happy - understandable seeing as her existence depends on him reproducing, but this point is hardly addressed, disturbingly - she only sympathises with him as he repeatedly rapes Alice. Dana goes so far as to claim that Rufus is only doing this because he loves Alice (he, a manipulative and gaslighting crybaby, tells her as such, and she stupidly believes him), and that Alice is a stubborn, coldhearted, ungrateful bitch for refusing his advances. She slut-shames and victim-blames her.
Dana, a black woman, actually talks Alice, another black woman, into giving in to Rufus, a white slave owner. She basically tells her, "Be happy already, he loves you. What other choice do you have? He won't be so violent if you come quietly, and you could grow to love him, too,"
Alice.
A slave.
A rape victim.
A domestic violence victim.
A mother.
In a time and place where she has no rights to speak of.
Who in fact shows more agency, assertion, survival skills, anger at the injustices surrounding her, and general fight in her than our 1970s black woman protagonist.
She is punished and eventually killed off for being a termed "angry black woman".
Alice: who is also Dana's ancestor, but it is Rufus, the white male rapist slave owner (I cannot stress that point across enough), whom Dana feels kindred to. Whom she feels protective over.
Sisterhood never meant shit.
It is all about Rufus and making him happy. It isn't just about his survival so that Dana would one day exist. It is Rufus who controls Dana's life, even making her come to his time whenever he is in danger (it doesn't bother me that the time travel aspect of the book isn't explained, since I like a bit of ambiguity in my classic lit, and it isn't that important compared to everything else). Dana relies on him for her own survival; she keeps waiting to be rescued by him, keeps being surprised whenever he, a deceptive rapist slave owner, disappoints her, and she does whatever he tells her to do, like a good slave, even when she does call him out on his bullshit and keep talking to him.
She believes Rufus "loves" Alice, but as an educated woman she should know that rape and love have absolutely nothing to do with each other. Rape is a form of power over others, and that's that. Dana never comes to this conclusion. Alice, the victim, is only acting up like a difficult child ( as if Rufus isn't! and times a million! ), and may love him after all ( why?????????!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! ). No one and nothing to blame but Rufus's upbringing.
Dana only effectively stands up to Rufus, only realises that hey, maybe he isn't such a nice guy, when, at the very end, he attacks and tries to rape her. Alice, his other black female victims, pfff, fuck them, literally: it isn't until Dana herself is being attacked by the oh-so poor rapist slave owner - who seriously has no redeeming qualities - it isn't until her world is shattered by the shock that he could do such a thing to her - that she finally does something about him.
There are not enough "fuck off"s in the entire universe for me to express my rage and disgust at all this.
Dana is a heinous, baffling, inconsistent, selfish, stupid, heartless cow, whose life revolves around the needs and wants of her white male relatives, and has fucked up priorities for a woman of her position.
What exactly has she learned from her journey and experiences, anyway? Not a lot, from what I've read. She starts out progressive, smart and headstrong, but her experiences with legalised slavery and forced submissiveness seem to have left her regressive and worse off than before. She doesn't really do anything once she is returned to her own future time for good. Isn't this retroactively backwards for a book about such sensitive, vital and relevant issues?
Rufus is a spoiled, entitled, whiny, self-absorbed, cunning, manipulative, violent, hateful, disgusting, misogynistic, racist manchild and fuckstain on the underwear of society - and he receives more attention, more sympathy, more of a "character arc", than Alice and the other slaves put together.
Why should we care about this monster? Why does Dana, against her better judgement?
I shall safely leave the review at that. I don't know what else to write, without adding further food for the fire. I'm sure there is a reason why the issues of rape, victim-blaming, internalized misogyny and internalized misogynoir seem to keep being glossed over and ignored whenever 'Kindred' is praised as a masterpiece by millions of people. It is very well-written and addictive, and effectively horrifying... just not always in the right places.
I won't dare to speculate what the author thought, or hadn't thought, when she wrote it. I suppose, as a 1979 publication, 'Kindred' is still a product of its time. Though the author ought to have known better; that the prejudices of racism and misogyny are linked. Black women helped to bring light to what is termed "intersectional feminism". What about "discrimination doesn't discriminate"?
I recommend reading Audre Lorde's works instead of this. They are far more positive, enlightening, and female-friendly. They in no way excuse the patriarchy and let it go unchallenged, for one.
Final Score: 0/5
Friday, 23 August 2019
Book Review - 'Hortense and the Shadow' by Natalia O'Hara (Writer), Lauren O'Hara (Illustrator)
'Through the dark and wolfish woods,
through the white and silent snow,
lived a small girl called Hortense.
Though kind and brave,
she was sad as an owl because
of one thing.
Hortense
hated
her
shadow.'
A children's fairy tale picture book with a female protagonist, a creative premise with a unique moral, an enriching, enthralling and haunting atmosphere, a bit of darkness to it, a pretty intense climax, and beautiful and ethereal artwork. Just how I like it.
Wolves, woods, snow, deer, mushrooms, darkness, and of course, shadows, 'Hortense and the Shadow' is a terrifically written picture book with a challenging bite that is still rather soft.
(Seriously, read the whole book and then go back and look closely at some of the illustrations: there's actual foreshadowing!)
Final Score: 5/5
through the white and silent snow,
lived a small girl called Hortense.
Though kind and brave,
she was sad as an owl because
of one thing.
Hortense
hated
her
shadow.'
A children's fairy tale picture book with a female protagonist, a creative premise with a unique moral, an enriching, enthralling and haunting atmosphere, a bit of darkness to it, a pretty intense climax, and beautiful and ethereal artwork. Just how I like it.
Wolves, woods, snow, deer, mushrooms, darkness, and of course, shadows, 'Hortense and the Shadow' is a terrifically written picture book with a challenging bite that is still rather soft.
(Seriously, read the whole book and then go back and look closely at some of the illustrations: there's actual foreshadowing!)
Final Score: 5/5
Tuesday, 20 August 2019
Book Review - 'Malala's Magic Pencil' by Malala Yousafzai (Writer), Kerascoët (Illustrator)
Beautiful and gorgeous in the best possible way. An enchanting, moving autobiographical picture book, and an immensely important revelation.
The world must know of the ordinary and unstoppable Malala Yousafzai; children from all walks of life must know of her and her goals. And her determined spirit that will never go out, no matter what.
The magic pencil is a metaphor, for drawing a better world; a world that desperately needs fixing. A pen and pencil can help change that world. As can words, a powerful voice. A voice that has much to say; that refuses to be silenced, even by the delivered threat of death. For you cannot silence the truth, much less a truth from the heart.
Every child needs an education. This includes every girl. Everyone needs someone like Malala in the world. She is one of the bravest, most inspirational people out there today. An advocate, an activist, a voice for an international movement: ever since she was a young teenager.
Never take school for granted. Malala, who loves school, who knows how easily it can be lost and barred, certainly never did.
Final Score: 5/5
The world must know of the ordinary and unstoppable Malala Yousafzai; children from all walks of life must know of her and her goals. And her determined spirit that will never go out, no matter what.
The magic pencil is a metaphor, for drawing a better world; a world that desperately needs fixing. A pen and pencil can help change that world. As can words, a powerful voice. A voice that has much to say; that refuses to be silenced, even by the delivered threat of death. For you cannot silence the truth, much less a truth from the heart.
Every child needs an education. This includes every girl. Everyone needs someone like Malala in the world. She is one of the bravest, most inspirational people out there today. An advocate, an activist, a voice for an international movement: ever since she was a young teenager.
Never take school for granted. Malala, who loves school, who knows how easily it can be lost and barred, certainly never did.
Final Score: 5/5
Book Review - 'Brave Irene' by William Steig
A lovely, intense, fantastic picture book. 'Brave Irene' is about a young girl, Irene Bobbin, who delivers her sick mother's handmade dress to a duchess through a terrible snowstorm. That's about it, and yet there is more to it than that.
I love the admiration and devotion that Irene has towards her mother, and the pretty dress that Mrs Bobbin had made. I could already tell that their relationship is refreshingly positive. Irene puts her ill mother to bed and then sets out, almost without Mrs Bobbin knowing, on her ballgown errand, not realising that her helpful task will turn out to be much more perilous than she could have imagined.
Irene is so determined, strong-willed and selfless for a child - it is her incredibly dangerous journey, one she makes entirely on her own, that we follow through with her. For a short book, the reader is nonetheless made to hold their breath as Irene trudges her way further and further towards her destination, or away from it, as it appears she may well be lost in the freezing storm, in the dark, in the deep, deep snow...
I dare not spoil anything else. But you will love Irene as you bravely get closer and closer to the end.
'Brave Irene' - It's exactly as the title says. A must-read children's classic; a forgotten feminist children's classic. I noticed one inconsistency - did the author forget about Irene's broken ankle until the end? - but apart from that, after finishing this triumph you will surely find that the whole child-in-needless-deadly-danger book was worth it. In a way it's a life inspiration.
We all have a bit of Brave Irene inside of us. To pick us up when we are down. When we are alone and scared. She teaches us to never, ever give up, and to believe that things will turn out for the best. To believe in hope.
Final Score: 4/5
I love the admiration and devotion that Irene has towards her mother, and the pretty dress that Mrs Bobbin had made. I could already tell that their relationship is refreshingly positive. Irene puts her ill mother to bed and then sets out, almost without Mrs Bobbin knowing, on her ballgown errand, not realising that her helpful task will turn out to be much more perilous than she could have imagined.
Irene is so determined, strong-willed and selfless for a child - it is her incredibly dangerous journey, one she makes entirely on her own, that we follow through with her. For a short book, the reader is nonetheless made to hold their breath as Irene trudges her way further and further towards her destination, or away from it, as it appears she may well be lost in the freezing storm, in the dark, in the deep, deep snow...
I dare not spoil anything else. But you will love Irene as you bravely get closer and closer to the end.
'Brave Irene' - It's exactly as the title says. A must-read children's classic; a forgotten feminist children's classic. I noticed one inconsistency - did the author forget about Irene's broken ankle until the end? - but apart from that, after finishing this triumph you will surely find that the whole child-in-needless-deadly-danger book was worth it. In a way it's a life inspiration.
We all have a bit of Brave Irene inside of us. To pick us up when we are down. When we are alone and scared. She teaches us to never, ever give up, and to believe that things will turn out for the best. To believe in hope.
Final Score: 4/5
Book Review - 'The Doll's House' by Rumer Godden
This review might contain spoilers.
And the moral of this toy story is: If you're beautiful and absolutely, positively, so full of yourself, you can treat others however you want, be as thoughtless, narcissistic, selfish and rude as you want, and you will be rewarded with all you've always wished for, even if you've literally committed murder.
'The Doll's House' has a few cute and charming moments, but it's mostly about how that dollhouse is remade after decades in the loft, and how the two little girls, Emily and Charlotte, go about it all, and I got bored. There isn't really a plot to speak of; as Homer Simpson would say, "It's just a bunch of stuff that happens." I liked some of the characters, even though the dolls do come across as ungrateful and demanding of their young owners, but I especially do not like Tottie, the main doll. She is meant to be old, wise, gentle and calm, but she comes across as self-righteous, pushy, bossy and unfeeling.
The book can be read in a day, it is a very simple and fast read. But the narrative is largely condescending to its target audience; explaining what certain words mean, even words that a toddler would know, repeating established facts over and over again, actually telling the reader what to remember, what page to remember when things had happened, and what the characters are like, over and over again, and why the reader should care, etc. There is a reason why good children's authors don't do this anymore. At least I hope none of them would even think of doing it nowadays. I keep saying: Show, don't tell, and respect your audience's intelligence.
Not a pleasant and satisfying read, I'm afraid. I might have been more forgiving of its major flaws if it weren't for that ending, with its unfortunate implications. Recommended only if you're looking to read every example of classic children's literature ever. Don't expect much here.
Final Score: 0.5/5
And the moral of this toy story is: If you're beautiful and absolutely, positively, so full of yourself, you can treat others however you want, be as thoughtless, narcissistic, selfish and rude as you want, and you will be rewarded with all you've always wished for, even if you've literally committed murder.
'The Doll's House' has a few cute and charming moments, but it's mostly about how that dollhouse is remade after decades in the loft, and how the two little girls, Emily and Charlotte, go about it all, and I got bored. There isn't really a plot to speak of; as Homer Simpson would say, "It's just a bunch of stuff that happens." I liked some of the characters, even though the dolls do come across as ungrateful and demanding of their young owners, but I especially do not like Tottie, the main doll. She is meant to be old, wise, gentle and calm, but she comes across as self-righteous, pushy, bossy and unfeeling.
The book can be read in a day, it is a very simple and fast read. But the narrative is largely condescending to its target audience; explaining what certain words mean, even words that a toddler would know, repeating established facts over and over again, actually telling the reader what to remember, what page to remember when things had happened, and what the characters are like, over and over again, and why the reader should care, etc. There is a reason why good children's authors don't do this anymore. At least I hope none of them would even think of doing it nowadays. I keep saying: Show, don't tell, and respect your audience's intelligence.
Not a pleasant and satisfying read, I'm afraid. I might have been more forgiving of its major flaws if it weren't for that ending, with its unfortunate implications. Recommended only if you're looking to read every example of classic children's literature ever. Don't expect much here.
Final Score: 0.5/5
Sunday, 18 August 2019
Today I've cleared out some books, even ones I used to really like and have reviewed positively before, and other junk, like figurines. I might have finally outgrown certain things; gained a new perspective. That and I'm planning to buy more stuff and I need more shelving space...
I'm poor.
I also don't want to watch any new TV, at least for now. I'm tired, and bereavement and real life and doing what I actually want as an adult must take a priority.
I'm poor.
I also don't want to watch any new TV, at least for now. I'm tired, and bereavement and real life and doing what I actually want as an adult must take a priority.
Saturday, 17 August 2019
Comic Review - 'The Lisa Book: Simpsons Library of Wisdom' by Matt Groening
Wow. There may be a little more Lisa in me than I'd thought. There might be a Lisa in all of us. At least I hope so.
'The Lisa Book: Simpsons Library of Wisdom'- for the intellectual and therefore the lonely and unappreciated, for the geeky and proud, for the 'The Simpsons' fans, and for the Lisa fans in particular, who love her episodes, especially in the early seasons.
Contained within this little yellow book are a lot of Lisa facts, her likes, dislikes, and famous quotes. Plus there're episode facts and quotes, character bios, and forgotten, interesting tidbits. Also adorable old family photos.
Such a sweet, cute, funny and informative library of wisdom (watch out for the fun facts literally scattered in small print on some pages), as only 'The Simpsons' can deliver it. It has earned a spot on my geek shelf.
Lisa Simpson is the permanently eight-year-old, sax-playing, vegetarian, environmentalist, feminist, activist, cartoon-loving, pony-loving, elf-loving, doll-loving, bookworming, science and history-buffing, Buddhist, socialist, progressive, and liberal Teacher's Pet and future president of the United States we need at this moment. She loves her family despite not fitting in with them, and they love her back.
She truly is a special girl.
Final Score: 4/5
'The Lisa Book: Simpsons Library of Wisdom'- for the intellectual and therefore the lonely and unappreciated, for the geeky and proud, for the 'The Simpsons' fans, and for the Lisa fans in particular, who love her episodes, especially in the early seasons.
Contained within this little yellow book are a lot of Lisa facts, her likes, dislikes, and famous quotes. Plus there're episode facts and quotes, character bios, and forgotten, interesting tidbits. Also adorable old family photos.
Such a sweet, cute, funny and informative library of wisdom (watch out for the fun facts literally scattered in small print on some pages), as only 'The Simpsons' can deliver it. It has earned a spot on my geek shelf.
Lisa Simpson is the permanently eight-year-old, sax-playing, vegetarian, environmentalist, feminist, activist, cartoon-loving, pony-loving, elf-loving, doll-loving, bookworming, science and history-buffing, Buddhist, socialist, progressive, and liberal Teacher's Pet and future president of the United States we need at this moment. She loves her family despite not fitting in with them, and they love her back.
She truly is a special girl.
Final Score: 4/5
Book Review - 'Little Witch' by Anna Elizabeth Bennett
2024 EDIT: Okay, 'Little Witch', you've won me over again:
I love you. Despite how outdated and fifties you can be sometimes. And your ending is not so anti-witch (and pro-lazy beautiful fairies) as I remembered. You're just an adorable, sweet, funny, whimsical, humble, and endearing little children's novella that can be read in two hours. You've relaxed and cleared my mind, and cheered me up, put me under an ethereal, euphoric enchantment, in an afternoon on a day of very bad health, and for that I thank you.
I will keep you. Treasure you as the unique, rare, one-of-a-kind, classic little fantastical witch book that you are.
Read my original review below for more (really the only thing that's changed since I wrote it is my opinion of 'Akata Witch', 'The School for Good and Evil', and 'Harry Potter' at the end - scratch them).
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
I love you. Despite how outdated and fifties you can be sometimes. And your ending is not so anti-witch (and pro-lazy beautiful fairies) as I remembered. You're just an adorable, sweet, funny, whimsical, humble, and endearing little children's novella that can be read in two hours. You've relaxed and cleared my mind, and cheered me up, put me under an ethereal, euphoric enchantment, in an afternoon on a day of very bad health, and for that I thank you.
I will keep you. Treasure you as the unique, rare, one-of-a-kind, classic little fantastical witch book that you are.
Read my original review below for more (really the only thing that's changed since I wrote it is my opinion of 'Akata Witch', 'The School for Good and Evil', and 'Harry Potter' at the end - scratch them).
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
This review might contain spoilers:
Purely a children's fairy tale. 'Little Witch' was written in the early fifties and in some places it shows. It teaches politeness (and a bit of sass, refreshingly), but other lessons seem to include: that ugly, disgusting and/or fat people are bad, or at best uppity, and good people are gobsmackingly, physically beautiful and cute; it's okay to only love pretty people who have pretty things and do pretty work; and that if you're related to anyone bad, don't worry, for it'll turn out that you're not blood related, so you're fine - no sins of the parent issues for you. Of course.
But I think what makes 'Little Witch' work is its simplistic writing style and overall quiet charm. It's a pocket book that can be read in one afternoon, and it contains unforgettable moments of fun and sweetness. It can be creatively funny, too. It's the right balance of magic, whimsy, little fantastical and mythological creatures, and slice-of-life. It's all understated, endearing and humble in how it goes about its young witch's coming-of-age tale.
Mostly it's about friendship and the importance of children being nice and tolerant to each other. A friendship between Minx, an abused and feared witch's child and poor outcast, and the other pupils at the school she secretly attends, wanting a normal, happy life full of sunshine, people and loving, nonnuclear families. And it's about positive female friends and role models.
There isn't as much witch-bashing as I'd feared there would be, and there are fairies, nixies, nymphs, centaurs, elves, and the Pied Piper, if you can believe it, and despite their brief appearances they don't feel random or forced into the book. Along with the brewing, the cauldron, the multi-coloured potions, and the broomsticks, it's part of the fun.
I can see why 'Little Witch' is considered a timeless classic for little ones. It does highlight vital, relevant subject matters such as child abuse, education for children, cleanliness for children, believing and helping children, questioning adults and authority figures, and teaching kids about how a criminal justice system works. I didn't expect that in a book about witches.
A great-grandmother character plays a major part as well, and she's wonderful. See kids, not all middle-aged-to-elderly women are evil, after all.
So here it is: I have found 'Little Witch' by Anna Elizabeth Bennett, to join the ranks of 'The Worst Witch', 'Witch Wars', 'Castle Hangnail', 'Akata Witch', 'The School for Good and Evil', 'Harry Potter', 'Flying Witch', 'Witch Hat Atelier', 'Little Witch Academia', 'Kiki's Delivery Service', and 'Spell on Wheels' in stories specifically about young witches that I love. I'm surprised that there aren't any sequels. In fact, this is apparently the only book Ms. Bennett ever wrote.
Recommended to all witch fans.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Purely a children's fairy tale. 'Little Witch' was written in the early fifties and in some places it shows. It teaches politeness (and a bit of sass, refreshingly), but other lessons seem to include: that ugly, disgusting and/or fat people are bad, or at best uppity, and good people are gobsmackingly, physically beautiful and cute; it's okay to only love pretty people who have pretty things and do pretty work; and that if you're related to anyone bad, don't worry, for it'll turn out that you're not blood related, so you're fine - no sins of the parent issues for you. Of course.
But I think what makes 'Little Witch' work is its simplistic writing style and overall quiet charm. It's a pocket book that can be read in one afternoon, and it contains unforgettable moments of fun and sweetness. It can be creatively funny, too. It's the right balance of magic, whimsy, little fantastical and mythological creatures, and slice-of-life. It's all understated, endearing and humble in how it goes about its young witch's coming-of-age tale.
Mostly it's about friendship and the importance of children being nice and tolerant to each other. A friendship between Minx, an abused and feared witch's child and poor outcast, and the other pupils at the school she secretly attends, wanting a normal, happy life full of sunshine, people and loving, nonnuclear families. And it's about positive female friends and role models.
There isn't as much witch-bashing as I'd feared there would be, and there are fairies, nixies, nymphs, centaurs, elves, and the Pied Piper, if you can believe it, and despite their brief appearances they don't feel random or forced into the book. Along with the brewing, the cauldron, the multi-coloured potions, and the broomsticks, it's part of the fun.
I can see why 'Little Witch' is considered a timeless classic for little ones. It does highlight vital, relevant subject matters such as child abuse, education for children, cleanliness for children, believing and helping children, questioning adults and authority figures, and teaching kids about how a criminal justice system works. I didn't expect that in a book about witches.
A great-grandmother character plays a major part as well, and she's wonderful. See kids, not all middle-aged-to-elderly women are evil, after all.
So here it is: I have found 'Little Witch' by Anna Elizabeth Bennett, to join the ranks of 'The Worst Witch', 'Witch Wars', 'Castle Hangnail', 'Akata Witch', 'The School for Good and Evil', 'Harry Potter', 'Flying Witch', 'Witch Hat Atelier', 'Little Witch Academia', 'Kiki's Delivery Service', and 'Spell on Wheels' in stories specifically about young witches that I love. I'm surprised that there aren't any sequels. In fact, this is apparently the only book Ms. Bennett ever wrote.
Recommended to all witch fans.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Book Review - 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' by Judi Barrett (Writer), Ron Barrett (Illustrator)
2023 EDIT: Part of my 2023 clear-up, of books I no longer like, or am no longer interested in, or remember well as standing out, or find as special anymore, or I otherwise will not miss.
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
I love the movie, so I had to read this eventually. And I'm glad I did: 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' remains a hugely imaginative, clever, funny and, ahem, delicious fable for children. There are hilarious jokes, cute touches and Easter eggs (not literally, sadly) in the illustrations on each page that the prose doesn't tell you about. You might get hungry while reading it!
In the original book, 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' is about the town of Chewandswallow, where it rains and snows food every day, at every breakfast, lunch and dinner time, as told by a grandfather to his grandchildren. These children's picture books love grandparents and their bonds with the wide-eyed youth, don't they? As they should. Grandfathers and grandmothers are amazing; often wise, witty and loving. It's the age and experience. Appreciate them while you still can.
'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' misses a star because I'm not sure about the artwork in some places, and there isn't really a story in the traditional sense (it's more of a backstory, with a promise of a return), nor strong characterization. But it's fun and creative. A true bedtime story.
A pancake, potato, bread, hot dog, egg, spaghetti, jelly, and burger-filled joy. I can't recall there being any chocolate, or ice cream, or much dessert actually. But oh well.
Final Score: 4/5
Final Score: 3.5/5
Original Review:
I love the movie, so I had to read this eventually. And I'm glad I did: 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' remains a hugely imaginative, clever, funny and, ahem, delicious fable for children. There are hilarious jokes, cute touches and Easter eggs (not literally, sadly) in the illustrations on each page that the prose doesn't tell you about. You might get hungry while reading it!
In the original book, 'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' is about the town of Chewandswallow, where it rains and snows food every day, at every breakfast, lunch and dinner time, as told by a grandfather to his grandchildren. These children's picture books love grandparents and their bonds with the wide-eyed youth, don't they? As they should. Grandfathers and grandmothers are amazing; often wise, witty and loving. It's the age and experience. Appreciate them while you still can.
'Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs' misses a star because I'm not sure about the artwork in some places, and there isn't really a story in the traditional sense (it's more of a backstory, with a promise of a return), nor strong characterization. But it's fun and creative. A true bedtime story.
A pancake, potato, bread, hot dog, egg, spaghetti, jelly, and burger-filled joy. I can't recall there being any chocolate, or ice cream, or much dessert actually. But oh well.
Final Score: 4/5
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