Reviews

Tales from the Odyssey series by Mary Pope Osborne

I was vaguely familiar with Mary Pope Osborne‘s Tales from the Odyssey series but hand’t read any of it until I stumbled upon book two at a library sale.  My daughter had been studying mythology at school and is an avid reader so I thought this might be a good series for her.  So decided to read the whole series. (I read version that is broken into six books but the version in two volumes is more readily available.)

Here is a good description from an education site:

Greek classics, with all their complexities, are understandably a little difficult for younger children to understand, but hey, with sea monsters, one-eyed giants, beautiful royalty, sailors on a dangerous sea, angry gods and goddesses, powerful enchantresses that can turn people into animals, and other strange creatures, there’s not much more than an adventure-craving reader could ask for in a book. Mary Pope Osbourne has retold The Odyssey for middle-grade readers, breaking it up into volumes of 8 or 9 chapters each. Large, readable print, and a “classic” look add to the appeal while the books also include additional information about Homer and The Odyssey, a map of the voyage, and a list of gods and goddesses of Ancient Greece. Also, a pronunciation guide to the names is appended, making the difficult job of stumbling through those long Greek names a little easier for youngsters.

I am not an expert on the Odyssey, or Greek mythology, by any means but I thought the series was a well done children’s version of this epic tale.  More thoughts below.

Keep Reading

The Gift of the Magi by O. Henry (Lisbeth Zwerger, illustrator)

Our Lisbeth Zwerger fan appreciation tour continues today with a book perfect for the Christmas season: The Gift of the Magi. For those of you not familar with the O. Henry story here is a teaser:

One dollar and eight-seven cents is all the money Della has in the world to buy her beloved husband a Christmas present. She has nothing to sell except her only treasure — her long, beautiful brown hair. Set in New York at the turn of the twentieth century, this classic piece of American literature tells the story of a young couple and the sacrifices each must make to buy the other a gift. Beautiful, delicate watercolors by award-winning illustrator Lisbeth Zwerger add new poignancy and charm to this simple tale about the rewards of unselfish love.

If for some odd reason you haven’t read this classic tale, you should. It really is poignant and charming.  A young couple struggling to make ends meat determined to give Christmas gifts worthy of the love they share end up giving “useless” gifts but are in O. Henry’s words “the wisest of all who give and receive gifts.”

And this edition is perfect.  The beauty and simplicity allows the story to shine.  But like so many of Zwerger’s work, I think it is much more a gorgeous coffee table book for adults than an example of children’s literature.

The legal pad size book (8 1/2 by 14)  has lots of white space, a stylized font and, of course, Zwerger’s illustrations.  And those detailed, yet delicate, illustrations capture the emotions of the characters as the story proceeds. Many reviews focused on the font and white space as making it hard to read. And I suppose this is true if you are attempting to read it out loud in a classroom setting or at home. But I really like the overall effect.

From Della throwing herself on the couch for a nice long cry, nervously looking in the mirror after her sacrifice, and feeling her now short hair as she prepares supper to her husband Jim coming up the stairs, the awkward exchange of gifts, and the couple sitting across the table talking, the illustrations provide beautiful snapshots as the story unfolds.

It is a timeless story, and one we would do well to remember this – and every – holiday season, and I don’t think there is a better way to enjoy it than in this wonderful package.

Gilgamesh The Hero by Geraldine McCaugheran

Given my interest in mythology and storytelling you would think I would have read one of the oldest known stories in the world and one of the foundational myths of Western Civilization. But while I was aware of the epic of Gilgamesh I had not read the poem or any prose versions of the story. Until I stumbled on Gilgamesh the Hero, a version aimed at younger readers, at a library sale.  And I am so glad I did – besides getting a great book for a buck – because this was a great read no matter what your age.

Here is Kirkus:

McCaughrean turns in a robust, exciting rendition of the world’s oldest written epic. After many astounding feats, proud, powerful king Gilgamesh sees his beloved sidekick Enkidu die, and becomes terrified of doing the same. Abandoning self-respect, he searches the world for the secret of immortality, crosses the Waters of Death to hear the tale of undying Utnapisthim (better knows as Noah), and at last returns home, to make wiser bids for immortality by telling his tale, and raising children. Thanks to the former, as McCaughrean points out, he’s better known today than Ishtar, Enlil, or any of the other “immortal” gods he fought and worshiped. Enhanced by Parkins’s expressionistic tableaus of gnarled, dramatically posed figures, she relates his adventures with gusto-”Gilgamesh calmly strung his bow. ‘Don’t launch the funeral barge yet. What can go wrong with the two of us side by side?’ ‘Do you really want me to tell you?’ said Enkidu”-while vividly capturing his pride, soul-deep anguish, and the personal cost of his hard-won wisdom. The most riveting retelling yet of this ancient, ageless tale.

This is a perfect example of why I find these young adult illustrated readers a great way to explore myths and the power of story. You get a great story with powerful and evocative language, wonderful illustrations and an accessible introduction to a timeless tale. What’s not to like? Keep Reading

The Women of the Cousins’ War by Philippa Gregory, David Baldwin, and Michael Jones

Periodically, I like to read about an era I know nothing much about.  I recently read The Women of the Cousins’ War: The Duchess, the Queen, and the King’s Mother by Philippa Gregory, David Baldwin, and Michael Jones to get a feeling for some of the more important females during the Wars of the Roses between the Yorks and Lancasters in England.  Apparently, the book is a nonfiction companion to Gregory’s fictional accounts of the three women written about – Jacquetta, Duchess of Bedford; Elizabeth Woodville, wife of Edward IV; and Margaret Beaufort, mother of Henry VII.

Here is an excerpt of a summary of the book from the publisher’s website:

In her essay on Jacquetta, Philippa Gregory uses original documents, archaeology, and histories of myth and witchcraft to create the first-ever biography of the young duchess who survived two reigns and two wars to become the first lady at two rival courts. David Baldwin, established authority on the Wars of the Roses, tells the story of Elizabeth Woodville, the first commoner to marry a king of England for love; and Michael Jones, fellow of the Royal Historical Society, writes of Margaret Beaufort, the almost-unknown matriarch of the House of Tudor.

In the introduction, Gregory writes revealingly about the differences between history and historical fiction. How much of a role does speculation play in writing each? How much fiction and how much fact should there be in a historical novel? How are female historians changing our view of women in history?

The book is divided into three parts – each part about a different woman by one of the authors.   Nearly half of the book is devoted to Jacquetta and is written by Gregory.  Baldwin writes about Elizabeth Woodville in the second part of the book and Jones finishes the book with writing about Margaret Beaufort.  I believe all three parts are well-written and contain more information than I ever knew about the role these women played in shaping English history. Keep Reading

Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, Lisbeth Zwerger (illustrator)

Our Lisbeth Zwerger appreciation tour continues, this time with a literary classic Alice in Wonderland.  And we can say at least one positive thing about Zwerger’s illustrations: they motivated me to read the book again. I don’t believe I had read Alice since high school and it was an interesting experience reading it again as an adult and in this format.

Publishers Weekly, as usual, offers a nice overview:

Zwerger’s (The Wizard of Oz) captivating cover image of the Mad Tea-Party for this edition of Carroll’s 1865 tale conveys the psychological tension of the interior artwork: Alice, at the head of an elongated table with a pristine white linen cloth, stares at the pocket watch that the March Hare is about to lower into his cup of tea. The Hare, bug-eyed, gazes out at readers while the Mad Hatter to his right, wearing a hat box, fixates on a black upturned chapeau (in lieu of a place setting), and the Dormouse between them sleeps. Across the table, an empty red mug is placed in front of a vacant green chair, and a teacup and saucer trimmed in red seems to be set for the reader. The painting conveys the way in which Zwerger brilliantly manages both to invite readers into the story and to keep them at a distance. From the heroine’s first appearance, as she falls down a well while chasing the White Rabbit, with a glimpse of orderly bookshelves at the upper left corner, Zwerger demonstrates the many layers to Alice’s journey: a cutaway view reveals that the bulk of the other “”shelves”" are the result of rats and insects tunneling underground. The supporting cast conveys the artist’s nearly sardonic perspective. The contrary caterpillar, with six of its eight arms crossed, would be at home in New York’s East Village: instead of a hookah it smokes a cigarette and sips red wine, yet–unlike Sir John Tenniel‘s sedated counterpart–this caterpillar is lucid, defiantly staring out at an Alice (and readers) absent from the scene. Zwerger’s penetrating interpretation reinvents Carroll’s situations and characters and demands a rereading of the text.

Two sentences worth noting:

  • “The painting conveys the way in which Zwerger brilliantly manages both to invite readers into the story and to keep them at a distance.”
  • “Zwerger’s penetrating interpretation reinvents Carroll’s situations and characters and demands a rereading of the text.”
Obviously, I found both of these to be true. Captivated by the illustrations I was pulled into the story again.  The illustrations are both wonderful accents to the story but also offer though provoking art along the way; they are neither intrusive nor distracting but they do help the reader to think anew about the story and the characters.

Of course, there is always the question of what does it all mean?