It’s been a long time since I’ve written about my son’s books. Since I’m reading longer novels myself this month, I’ll use this opportunity to jump in and say something about what we’ve been reading together.

I’ve been skimming over The ABCs of Literacy (reviewed here; that book inspired my 1000 Books Project) for ideas on helping use books as a tool in my sons’ stage of life and learning, and some of Ms. Dollins’ ideas have been very successful for us.  I am not using books as a “preschool” curriculum or anything of the sort: I’ve just been trying to think out of the box and applying the books to my sons’ needs more than I had in the past. And we’ve both, I believe been enjoying that approach.

Imitate the Book (and the Book Imitates Life)

One of Ms. Dollins’ suggestions was to try to imitate the (good) things that characters do in books.

After reading Siesta by Ginger Guy (An ALA Notable Book), I decided to try this. In the book, two kids and their teddy bear, gather together a few things, such as a yellow book and a blue backpack and then a brightly multi-colored blanket and then go outside for their “siesta.” My son no longer naps, yet we enjoyed the activity of gathering some favorite things and a blanket and making our own tent outside on a bright spring afternoon. He even pretended to sleep for a few moments. The book is in both Spanish and English and I think my son appreciated hearing a different language: something I really should do more often, since I personally think Spanish is a beautiful language (for more so than English!).

On the other hand, sometimes I think the book we just checked out really does a good job illustrating life. In the middle of a warmer spell, it suddenly got cold and snowed, leaving Daddy stranded in New York City. In The Snow Day by Komako Sakai, which I had checked out that week despite a warmer spell, a little bunny and his mommy are stranded at home and daddy’s airplane can’t come home because of snow. The bunny watches it snow, he plays in the snow, and finally Daddy’s plane comes home. How perfect is that parallel? The beautiful illustrations and well-spaced text perfectly captured the feeling of isolation that I get from a big snow: quiet and reflective and yet so beautiful and overwhelming. I wish I could show you one particular painting: the entire apartment complex and trees surrounding it is overwhelmed with the falling snow and the little bunny standing on the corner of his tiny little deck in the midst of it all. It is beautiful!

I should also add that my son and I have been walking to a nearby bridge and playing “Poohsticks” on sunny afternoons. He likes it very much, and it’s making me really want to reread him the Winnie-the-Pooh books this summer.

What picture books have you “made real” for your kids? Which ones were just perfectly pertinent to your child’s life?

Everyday Life

We also have sought out pertinent nonfiction. None of these have been spectacularly written or amazingly engaging, but my son still related to each book and requested it more than once. After a dental visit, for example, we read Brushing My Teeth by Elizabeth Vogel. Now he must stop and smile at his teeth in the mirror after brushing, just as the girl did in the book.  When he got his haircut, it was Getting a Haircut by Melinda Radabaugh, and after the mail carrier personally showed him the back of the mail truck (he loves the mail truck), we read A Day with a Mail Carrier by Jan Kottke.

My favorite nonfiction books to read are the ones that I see help him to understand himself. Hands Can by Cheryl Hudson is full of pictures of real children, and it illustrates some of things he can do. Sometimes when he does something with his hands, like clapping or carrying or climbing, he notices it: “Look Mommy!” he says, holding up his hands. I can’t attribute all of that to reading the book of course, but I still think it is fun to read a book of realization and also see him discovering himself.

We both also enjoy The Body Book by Shelley Rotner, which is one of my favorite nonfiction books (we’ve checked it out a few times). It photos of children all different ages, and it shows them engaging in fun outdoor activities with their feet, hands, legs, heads, eyes, noses. This is not a boring anatomy book, and it doesn’t have too many words or descriptions. It just focuses on all the great things a kid can do with his body: it makes me want to run around outside on a sunny day!

I also like Eyes, Nose, Fingers, Toes by Judy Hindley, but I can’t get my son to pay attention to it. It has cute rhymes about the different parts of the body, and I really like reading it aloud. However, the pictures are not beautiful or engaging, so I think that contributes to my son’s non-interest.

Emotions

I’ve found that fiction can help my son relate to himself as he deals with his current awkward “am I a baby or a big boy?” stage. (It comes with a lot of tears and frustration on his part.) Although we’ve been checking out nonfiction relating to feelings and emotions (such as Lots of Feelings by Shelley Rotner; he loves looking at the baby and toddler faces), Baby Happy, Baby Sad by Leslie Patricelli is one fictional picture book that he enjoys. He can pick out from the simple illustrations just why the baby is sad and I imagine he can relate. No No Yes Yes by Leslie Patricelli is another “I can relate” book for my son, as he’s done many of the things illustrated on the pages! We’ve also been reading the Jane Yolen books, particularly How Do Dinosaurs Play with Their Friends by Jane Yolen, because my son still struggles to let his friends play with his toys: it’s just so hard.

I know I’ve mentioned it before, but the David books by David Shannon are also ones he relates to completely. My favorite is still the original (No, David) but the baby David board books (called “Diaper David”) are also pretty well done (Oh, David and David Smells, which is about senses). I don’t particularly like the older boy David books (David Gets in Trouble and David Goes to School) beyond the first one but that may be because my son is not yet in that stage so I can’t yet relate!

My Favorite “Growing Up Book”

I have so many more books that we’ve read recently. (See my 1000 Books post for the list to date.) But today I’ll just share about one more “growing up” book that I really enjoy.

Little Gorilla by Ruth Bornstein shows a little gorilla and all the family and jungle animals that love him. Then, he begins to grow, and soon he is big. It ends with the simple sentence, “And everyone still loved him.” I began inserting my son’s name in it as we read: “Little Gorilla ____.” Since he had recently seen a monkey and baby in a different book or on TV (?not sure where), he was already in a “monkey” stage. Little Gorilla was, therefore, the perfect book for him at this time. He says he’s a baby monkey, I say he’s “Little Gorilla,” and when I read the book with him growing in to a “big gorilla,” I can just see the gears working in his mind. “It’s okay if I get big. Everyone will still love me when I’m big too! I don’t have to stay a baby. And Mommy will still cuddle me.”

I love my little boy and I’m glad for the baby moments, the cuddles, and the adorable things he says as he grows up. Growing up is kind of scary, though, and I love that we can read such a simple book that shows that growing up is pretty normal, and nothing important really changes.

What “growing up books” do you think are perfect for a toddler?

• Kids Corner (1000 Books): Emergent Reading
• 1000 Books: A Little Clarification + The First 80 Books or So
• 1000 Books: Jez Alborough
• Two Books on Literacy (Growing a Reader from Birth and The ABCs of Literacy)
• Kids Corner: What Are Your Children Reading? 22 October
• Caldecott Corner Author Spotlight: Simms Taback
• Caldecott Corner: Wintery Miscellany
• Kids Corner: Three Novels by E.B. White
• Kids Corner: Winnie-the-Pooh Books Inspired by Milne and Shepard
• Baby’s Sunday Salon, April 5

I want to depict the artists’ struggle with reality, the sheer effort of creation which goes into every work of art, the blood and tears involved in giving one’s flesh, in trying to make something that lives.  (Introduction to Oxford World Classics edition, page ix.)

In telling the story of the doomed Claude Lantier, Zola does capture a painful side to creation. As a self-absorbed painter, Claude is unable to see beyond his skewed perception of the world, since he sees all through the eyes of his “impressionistic” painting style. (Although Zola does not use the word “impressionism,” it is clear that such is the era of art.)

I didn’t enjoy reading the story, but I certainly appreciated it as a whole. Zola shows a realistic disconnect for people who struggle with a vision, and I felt like I was glancing at real lives between the pages of the novel.

Zola’s own judgments come out through the story because he doesn’t appear to understand the new style of painting. To the omniscient narrator, Lantier’s paintings appear to be a mess of colors. They are ridiculous failures. It’s obvious that Lantier is aiming for some degree of symbolism when he depicts the naked woman in the center of all his paintings. Yet, Sandoz (the novelist in the story that represents Zola) finds it ridiculous and mourns for Lantier’s apparent insanity. The editor of the introduction indicated that Zola was not able to appreciate impressionism; his taste in art was rather immature as was evident in his art criticism essays of the day.

Incidentally, Lantier’s first major painting is based on one by Eduard Manet, which was displayed in the Salon des Refuses as was Lantier’s in the novel. Seeing Manet’s painting helped me to understand the reasons behind the ridicule, not that the painting was bad but that the concept was bizarre for the era.

Eduard Manet, Luncheon on the Grass (via Wikipedia)

Zola was somewhat careful to make sure that no character in his novel fully represented a person he knew in real life, yet the similarities were plentiful enough so that many of Zola’s friends were offended. Paul Cezanne, who shares many of the qualities with the doomed Claude Lantier, for example, never spoke to Zola again after publication of The Masterpiece. (See the introduction to the Oxford World Classics edition for more discussion of similarities.)

But the similarities were only one reason to be offended. Zola’s premise seems to be that it is hopeless to try to capture the world in art and create something original. Truly, artists of the day would have been slighted by such a premise. Further, attempting to do so leaves one isolated from reality. In the novel, Lantier failed to develop any real human relationships. Christine tried to bring Lantier back to reality, yet the art always called and Lantier was doomed in the end, for without art he was nothing.

Despite the hopelessness depicted in the novel, Zola’s friend Cezanne truly was an influential painter who began a new way of thinking about art: impressionism. I found it interesting that Zola’s counterpoint in the novel, the writer Pierre Sandoz, was not as doomed as Lantier the painter. Yet, Zola’s writing was apparently as cutting edge as Cezanne’s paintings: seeing the world in a new way.

Paul Cezanne, Montagne Sainte-Victoire (via Wikipedia)

I didn’t enjoy reading Zola. The only parts that captured my full interest and attention were the moments when he meets and courts Christine. Throughout the book, I kept waiting for a tragedy to capture my emotions and help me feel fully engaged. Yet, even when mortal tragedy struck, it was told in a matter-of-fact way that left me completely emotionless. That was, I’m sure, Zola’s point. Life is not a romantic experience. It’s harsh: we each suffer and in the end, everyone lives with their own life and their own suffering.

“And now, back to work!” a character says at the end of the novel (which is not a happy ending, I’ll warn you). Such is life.

While I’m sure I’m a romantic girl at heart, I am glad I’ve experienced Zola. It truly did help me see the world in a new light.

I read Zola as a part of the April Classics Circuit. See where Zola will visit here.

• Two Neuroscience Books (Proust was a Neuroscientist by Lehrer and Sacks’ Musicophilia)
• How Reading Order Affects Reading a Book
• To the Lighthouse by Virginia Woolf
• The Picture of Dorian Gray by Oscar Wilde
• Moses, Man of the Mountain by Zora Neale Hurston
• The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins

Wit by Margaret Edson is a quick read (I think I read it in about an hour over the course of a day), but is poignant because of its emotional subject matter. Despite its brevity, it is packed full of various implications. I’m sure I miss most of the subtle meanings when I read it, so I enjoy rereading it. I get more out of it each time.

The play centers on Vivian Bearing’s last days in the hospital as she dies of ovarian cancer, with flashbacks to key moments in her life and career. Dr. Bearing is a professor of seventeenth century poetry, specifically of John Donne’s Holy Sonnets, and throughout the play, Bearing’s fears echo John Donne’s lines. Her impersonal medical care likewise parallels her own insensitive method of teaching students.

This play never fails to bring me to tears as I read it (or watch it), and I’m not certain why I like such intense emotion. I like the connections to words and how words can comfort and provide an imagined escape. I love the childhood books that are mentioned and the parallel between those books and the emotions that Dr. Bearing faces as her life comes full circle. I like the reminder that as people we need to recognize each other as such. This play had lonely people in it, and it made me want to make sure that others aren’t feeling lonely, whatever their stage in life.

The title, Wit, comes from the type of poetry that John Donne wrote, metaphysical poetry. The Wikipedia entry for “wit” says that “wit can be a thin disguise for more poignant feelings that are being versified” and cites John Donne as a great example of this. I certainly am not an expert at such things, so I can’t really discuss it. But reading Edson’s play is inspiring to me because I realize I have so much to learn. I love the way it makes me think. And now I want to go read John Donne’s poetry in depth.

And death shall be no more; death, thou shalt die. (John Donne, Sonnet X)

Margaret Edson wrote Wit in 1995, when she was an elementary school teacher volunteering at a hospital cancer ward. The play won the Pulitzer Prize for Drama in 1999.

I also rewatched the movie this week, which stars Emma Thompson. While it is certainly an adaptation of the play, it is very well done. I’ve never seen the play live, although I’d like too. It should be noted that the play itself has brief nudity at the end, which may be a bit surprising if one is not expecting it.

Other Reviews:

• Semicolon (review of movie)

If you have reviewed Wit on your site, please leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

Do you like to read emotional books?

Are any of your favorite books “tear jerkers”?

• A Selection of Poetry by John Donne
• The Last Lecture by Randy Pausch
• Rose, Where Do You Get that Red? by Kenneth Koch + Reading with Kids Challenge
• The Door by Margaret Atwood
• The Student by Anton Chekhov: A Perfect Short Story
• Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
• Poetry Friday: Christmas Poems
• Death Comes for the Archbishop by Willa Cather
• Julius Caesar by William Shakespeare
• Comfort Reading

It was shortly after that that I bought the Norton Introduction to Poetry (3rd edition, 1984; the link is for the 9th edition, 2006) for a few dollars at a used bookstore. I’ve since browsed through it numerous times and always enjoyed the tutorial and anthology aspects of it: when I’m in the mood to think about poetry, it’s a nice fall back. In the last few months, I took the time to actually read most of it. (I think I skipped a total of about 50 pages in the 500 page book, mostly excerpts from long poems by Milton, Eliot, and Tennyson that I plan to read in full.)

My Introduction to Poetry

That English conference where I “got” poetry was not my first foray into the genre. I had, of course, participated in school assignments to read and write poetry.

I found two poems of mine in various journals from my childhood. I don’t recall what poetry I read at the times I was writing the poems below, but for me poetry had to be cliché.

Snow

Sonw [sic] is soft
sonw is neat
sonw is freasing
on my feet

On my ears
And on my face
Snow
Is every place. (3^rd grade)

Winter Wonderland [excerpt]

The snow gently falls from the sky,
like feathers floating,
resting on the bare branches of trees,
and covering the ground like powdered sugar. …(middle school)

Feel free to gag.

Apparently poetry needed to be about winter, but maybe that is simply a reflection on the fact that I grew up in Chicago, where snow is prevalent for at least four months of the year. I do have some consolation in the fact that as I got older, I attempted simile and I stopped trying to force rhymes.

But all the same, as these amateur attempts may attest, I never felt an abiding appreciation for the genre. Poetry was painful to read and painful to write, even when it was about snowfall.

When I listened to the poet at that English conference, I began to understand that poetry can be more. And that “more” is what I like about it now.

The Norton Introduction to Poetry

The Norton Introduction to Poetry has two parts: half is tutorial and half is anthology. The tutorial part is my favorite. In various sections, the editor (J. Paul Hunter) describes the role of subject, theme, and tone; text (including speaker, situation and setting, word choice, figurative language, and structure); and various contexts. For each subsection, he shares at least one poem and discusses the particular aspects of that poem. Since I still struggle with some poetry and I am a beginner each time I approach it, I enjoy the tutorial aspect.

In the very beginning, Hunter puts into words what I cannot: the reasons why I like poetry so much. He says,

[Poetry] is an experience of words, and those who know how to read poetry can easily extend their experience of life, their sense of what other people are like and especially their awareness of personal feelings. … Poems provide, in fact, a language for feeling, and one of poetry’s most insistent virtues involves its attempt to express the inexpressible. … Poetry can be the mouthpiece of our feelings even when our minds are speechless with grief or joy. (page 1)

And that is why I enjoy this introduction and anthology of poetry. The only downside is that it is more than 20 years old now – I’m sure the updated editions have a better variety of poetry and a more detailed tutorial. All the same, even the third edition is wonderful for me. It helps me to understand poetry, and by extension, the rest of the world.

(OK, so I’m back to cliché now. Trust me when I say I am no poet.)

Poetry Project

In reading The Norton Introduction to Poetry, I got some great samples of poetry from poets that I’d like to read more in depth. I will be adding them to my “poets to read” list and in the coming months I hope to read and study specific poets.

This is an extension of the poetry portion of my How to Read and Why project: in that book (which I still have not completed; I’m reading each work as I go), Harold Bloom shares his favorite poems. I feel I can read widely so I can likewise choose my favorites. This is a lifetime project, as I realize there are nearly an infinite number of poets on that ever-growing list.

Since April is National Poetry Month, I thought I’d participate by highlighting something poetry related every week, including nonfiction about poetry, a particular poet, or anthologies of poems. I’ve started a few books; we’ll see which get finished.

Poetry or Not: That is the Question

The first sentence in The Norton Introduction to Poetry is “People seldom feel neutral about poetry.”

From experience, I know that is true. Before that English conference, I hated it. After the conference, I was excited about poetry. There was no in-between.

What about you? How do you approach poetry? Do you like anthologies, or individual poets’ collections, or individual poems? What are you going to read this month in honor of National Poetry Month?

Or are you a member of the “not interested” category? Would you consider giving something (even just one poem) a try in honor of National Poetry Month?

• A Poem in Your Pocket: Introduction to Poetry by Billy Collins
• National Poetry Month + Call for Poetry Posts
• Babylon in a Jar: New Poems by Andrew Hudgins
• How to Read a Poem and Fall in Love with Poetry by Edward Hirsch
• Poetry for Young People: Lewis Carroll
• Poetry Friday: Christmas Poems
• Sailing Alone Around the Room by Billy Collins
• Harlem Renaissance Poetry
• Reading in Spanish (Neruda’s Poetry and La casa en Mango Street by Cisneros)
• The Collected Poems of Nikki Giovanni

What were your initial impressions of the book?

Rebecca: I do not normally choose science fiction to read, but after some good experiences last year when my husband and I read Dune and Space Odyssey 2001 together, I came to appreciate it. I have of course heard of Isaac Asimov, so I was expecting Foundation to be a great example of the master of science fiction. From the beginning of my reading, however, I was disappointed by just about everything — the writing, the development, and the general plot.

Jackie: Initial impressions were quite good. After the first few pages I was wondering what I had against science fiction. The character of Gaal was great. I loved his reactions on arriving at the planet of Trantor, everything was so new and exciting to him. I was willing to forgive all the irritating references to three-dimensional newscasts and plasto-textiles, as his awe and emotions shined through.

What did you like the most about Foundation?

Rebecca: I really liked the premise of Foundation. It is that in a far future era, psychohistorians are able to mathematically predict the future. When they predict the downfall of the empire, they determine to shorten the length of barbarian ignorance by preparing the scenario to their advantage. This concept had potential, and as I read, I sought for themes, as I did when I read Dune and subsequently reviewed it. Foundation encourages us to avoid being too comfortable with the status quo, to be careful to always be learning, to use your strengths to your advantage. These are universal themes to some extent.

Jackie: The picture on the cover of my book was beautiful!

Was there anything that particularly irritated you in the book?

Rebecca: It seemed to me that Asimov’s brilliant ideas fell far short of their potential. Asmiov wrote Foundation at age 21, apparently, and it feels amateur. The novel was divided into five sections of between 45 and 120 pages, and each section covered a separate setting in the midst of a 300-year history. Thus, just as I finally was understanding each personality and setting, it would shift to an entire new setting. I never felt completely comfortable with the characters and setting because I never had time to.

But even if Asmiov had developed each setting further, I doubt they would have felt familiar by the end because Asmiov’s writing was superficial: there was absolutely no development of anyone or thing. Things happened. People spoke. That was it. In the court room scene in section 1, the inquisition is told in a Q and A format. This was horrible to read in that it was boring and weak. While the rest of the book never resorted to that format, it felt the same.

Jackie: Half of Part II, and Parts III, IV and V!! (for those of you who don’t know, Foundation is divided into five separate short stories – parts I – V). I loved the first story (Part I) but after that the book went downhill very quickly for me. I’m not very interested in the politics of my own country, so the arguing of Galactic Councils, which don’t even exist, seemed really pointless to me. I was interested in the book while it concentrated on individuals, but once it started waffling about alternative power sources, regulations and trade agreements I lost interest.

Who was your favourite character and why?

Rebecca: I don’t have a favourite character because I felt Asimov never developed any character to any extent. They were all superficial and boring. If there is any section I wanted to know more about, it was the first one. The concept of psychohistorians (mathematicians predicting the future based on human character) was intriguing.

Jackie: Gaal was my favourite character by a long way, as he is the only one we really saw a human side too.

Will you be reading the rest of the trilogy?

Rebecca: No. I can’t imagine it being prolonged into two more books!

Jackie: No, I won’t be reading the rest of the trilogy, or any more books written by Asimov. There are so many amazing books out there, that I don’t see the point of reading ones which I probably won’t like.

The Dewey Mini-Challenge was to “try something new,” and science fiction was out of your comfort zone. What is your “after” impression of the genre? Will you be reading more in the future?

Rebecca: In addition to Dune and Space Odyssey 2001 as I mentioned above, I’ve also read Ender’s Game. Of those four science fiction books, Foundation was my least favourite. I liked the others much better, so I can’t swear off science fiction forever. That said, I may try Asimov again in the future to give him the benefit of the doubt, but not any time soon!

Jackie: I had a strong suspicion that I won’t enjoy Asimov, and this was proved to be correct. In the past I have read a few science fiction/fantasy books, for example some by David Gemmel and The Fellowship of the Ring, but I haven’t enjoyed them. It obviously depends on your definition of science fiction, as it could be argued that The Time Traveller’s Wife also falls into this category, and I loved that. I much prefer books which are based in fact – only a really talented writer can make me enjoy books which are pure fantasy – Murakami is a good example of this. I need to be able to empathize with the characters, and this is much harder for me to do if they are living in a world in which all our laws of physics and society are different to theirs.

Cross-posted at Farm Lane Books here.

Is science fiction out of your comfort zone? Have you read Asimov? If so, what Asimov might you recommend to me? (I don’t think Jackie is interested!)

If you have reviewed Foundation, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add it here.

• Abandoned Book: Brave New World by Aldous Huxley
• Dune by Frank Herbert
• We by Yevgeny Zamyatin
• March in Review
• Dubliners by James Joyce
• The Invention of Morel by Adolfo Bioy Casares
• Genre Fiction: A Tolkein, A Heyer, and A Verne
• Black No More by George S. Schuyler
• Stories by Vladimir Nabokov
• Father Brown by G.K. Chesterton

His writing in these stories is so well done that I, a very amateur writer, feel the urge to try my hand at capturing the images around me, a task I will surely fail because I know I will never even remotely measure up to Nabokov’s incredible talent.

The unfortunate aspect of reading more than 60 of Nabokov’s short stories in one month is that the characters he so adroitly creates, the settings he so carefully draws, and the feelings he so perfectly captures are, for the most part, miserable, gloomy, and ultimately depressing. Also, some of his stories have fantastical elements that failed to resonate with me, and most dwell on negative aspects of human nature – subjects that weren’t pleasant for reading in bulk.

But I feel that the overall quality of Vladimir Nabokov’s writing is so extraordinary that he should be read simply for the marvelous experience that comes from reading his words, even if the reader doesn’t necessarily consider the negative underlying themes amazing.

Nabokov’s Style

Unlike the concise Ernest Hemingway, Nabokov uses many words to write his poetic stories. Some paragraphs are longer than a page; sentences are five lines long. It’s very dense, but, to me, beautiful.

Through his wordiness, Nabokov carefully creates a scene, as did James Joyce, and the scene seems to be imperative to many of his stories.  Also like Joyce, Nabokov’s purpose or theme for each story isn’t revealed until the end. While Joyce’s stories often left me confused (revealing my ignorance, I suppose), Nabokov’s left me depressed. Sometimes the abrupt endings are a sort of epiphany and sometimes they are just the result of the character’s actions, and we, the readers, must determine Nabokov’s aim.

In that way, Nabokov’s writing reminded me of Anton Chekhov’s stories. Both authors seemed to describe every-day people (peasants in Russia for Chekhov; poor Russian émigrés living in Berlin for Nabokov) living their lives, with a sudden realization (either for the character or the reader) in the last moments of the story illustrate the depressing state of human nature, life, and relationships.

Guy de Maupassant also wrote about the dirty side of human nature. But, while Maupassant’s stories ended up being funny, Nabokov’s stories rarely had humor (although I may have missed any high-brow humor). Some of the stories with fantastic elements reminded me of Edgar Allan Poe‘s or Washington Irving‘s stories. (In fact, one story appropriately refers to Rip Van Winkle.)

In the end, Nabokov has a style completely his own. Just as I felt after reading Flannery O’Connor‘s stories, I can’t place his style and themes into a category with any other short story writer.

Favorites

As I mentioned, Nabokov’s stories tend to be rather sad. My two favorite stories happened to be the least unpleasant. A number of other stories have also stayed with me.

Two Stories

In “First Love,” a man reflects on his first love. In the course of his description of a childhood summer’s events, it’s unclear to the reader whether his first love was traveling by overnight train; swimming at the beach; learning about butterflies; or meeting the little French girl, Colette. This story doesn’t have much plot or grand finale, but it is a beautiful story that I’ve already reread three times.

“The Vane Sisters” was the story that Harold Bloom recommended in his How to Read and Why book list. In this story, a man reflects on his relationships with two sisters, one of whom was once his girlfriend.  It also is incredibly subtle. (Highlight to read spoiler.) Nabokov’s subtle ending tells us that this man’s life really hasn’t been all that affected by the life and then the death of these sisters. It’s kind of depressing for the sisters, but an interesting realization for the man. It made me think about my own life and relationships. What impact do certain people have on me? For example, how often do I think about old boyfriends? Did they really impact my life significantly?

Other Stories

While I can only see myself rereading those two stories, there are a number of other stories that I keep remembering, even after starting the next story. Note that I do think Nabokov’s writing improved through the years; if you read the 60+ story volume as I did, start in the middle or go backward.

Here are some that stayed with me, with short introductions.

• “That in Aleppo Once…” His wife never existed, he’s sure of it.
• “A Forgotten Poet.” A dead poet arrives at the banquet held in his honor.
• “A Guide to Berlin.” One man recounts the small details of Berlin.
• “Music.” At a recital, a man sees his ex-wife across the room.
• “Perfection.” A very proper tutor is asked to take his young charge to the sea shore.
• “The Visit to the Museum.” A man goes to a museum to acquire a painting for a friend – and gets lost inside.
• “An Affair of Honor.” A man finds that his wife is having an affair with his friend, an ex-cavalry man, and he must fight a duel to save his good honor.
• “A Slice of Life.” The woman once loved him; now that his wife has left him, he has come to her to get drunk and commiserate.
• “The Dragon.” A dragon awakes after his ten-century slumber.
• “The Fight.” The elderly man he sees at the beach is also the bartender; he observes one night’s bar fight.
• “The Potato Elf.” A small dwarf in the circus seeks love.
• “Terra Incognita.” A group of bug collectors in the tropics get sick, lost, and angry at one another, as told from the perspective of the ill, delirious man.
• “The Reunion.” Two brothers, one living in Russia and one an émigré in Germany, meet after ten years.
• “Breaking the News.” The elderly, deaf woman’s son has died, and no one wants to tell her.
• “Cloud, Castle, Lake.” A man is forced into his first vacation, and he’s hoping that he’ll find the elusive happiness he seeks.
• “The Thunderstorm.” A man awakens in a storm to see Elijah dropping his mantle for Elisha.

The Bottom Line

Have I made myself clear? Maybe not. To be safe, here it is as clearly as I can write it:

Read Nabokov’s short stories, at least one or two. His writing is incredible.

Have you read already read Nabokov’s stories? What did you think? How would you describe his writing style and the themes he writes about?

Note: Because Vladimir Nabokov’s stories are not in the public domain, I cannot link to them online. Here is Wikipedia’s information about him.

• Pale Fire by Vladimir Nabokov + Giveaway
• Bookworms Carnival: Relationships
• Stories by Tommaso Landolfi
• Stories by Flannery O’Connor
• Stories by O. Henry (and Another BBAW Giveaway)
• Stories by Ernest Hemingway
• Stories by Guy de Maupassant (Favorites)
• Stories by Guy de Maupassant (Introductory Thoughts)
• Stories by Nathaniel Hawthorne
• Love in a Fallen City and Other Stories by Eileen Chang

Listening to this book was probably a part of the problem. First of all, it seemed to be very poorly written. In addition to awkward sentence constructions, I was confused by the organization. I couldn’t follow the train of thought from one chapter to the next as I listened. When I was an English student, I was told that chapter and section headings should not be a replacement of internal transitions, and I’ve found that well-written nonfiction books do that (for example, Stiff by Mary Roach was very easy to follow via audiobook). I felt there were no internal transitions in Emotional Intelligence; each section, which would begin with a story, didn’t really seem to follow from the last section. This was hard to listen to, but may not have been a problem had I read the physical book.

Another part of the problem was subject matter. An entire section of the book was about the physiological effects of emotions on our bodies. It was very dull. Reading it physically would have been much easier to deal with because I could have skimmed to find the interesting parts.

Also, Emotional Intelligence had far too many examples. As I listened, I kept thinking, “I got the point already!” I felt it was an insult to my intelligence. Again, reading it would have allowed a “skim” factor that made it much less boring. This audiobook was 800 minutes long, and I feel I spent far too long listening to this book for what I got out it.  I kept “almost” giving up on it.

But it wasn’t just the listening that made this book somewhat annoying: it was also the content. Goleman spoke of “emotional intelligence” as an important new concept we should be teaching in school. From his descriptions, though, it sounds to me that “emotional intelligence” as he defines it, is really just “being mature.” It’s true that “how to be mature” is something that some people never really learn: those who get violent road rage, those who panic and worry all the time, those who are always acting happy but then break down. True, some of these things are inherent tendencies that people are born with. Most of the time, I think it is parents who neglect to teach their children how to deal with emotions, parents who are still immature themselves. (And that is each of us, at some point.)

The last section of this book was about courses that schools can adopt to help teach children better emotional coping skills (“emotional intelligence” courses, Goleman seems to suggest). There were generalized statistics as to how this helps the societies and students who are a part of such programs. While such classes sound like a good idea, to me it sounds like adding too much more responsibility to the already-busy schedule of teachers. Teachers should not be the ones held responsibility for our children’s immaturity! If our society wants mature adults, then we as adults must be mature ourselves. Those of us who are parents should have the added responsibility. Our children learn from us first and foremost; no amount of school teaching can un-do what parents instill. If society is breaking down because of violence, teen pregnancy, and the other things that Goleman warns of, then it is because parents no longer take family responsibilities as seriously as they must.  Societal problems go back to parents, not teachers.

Of course, the need for emotional learning is obvious. Goleman’s arguments, examples, and stories are compelling and interesting. Overall, I am conflicted as to what I believe must be done. I found Emotional Intelligence interesting, but I’d highly recommend skimming it rather than listening to it, as it gets very long, repetitive, and boring.

Visit Daniel Goleman’s website and blog.

Have you reviewed Emotional Intelligence? Leave a link to your post in the comments, and I’ll add it here.

• Poetry Friday: If by Rudyard Kipling
• The Audacity of Hope by Barack Obama (abridged audio, read by the author)
• Nonfiction Five Challenge
• The Joy of Audiobooks
• The Millionaire Next Door by Thomas J. Stanley and William D. Danko
• The Professor and the Madman by Simon Winchester
• The Student by Anton Chekhov: A Perfect Short Story
• What is Reading? and Audiobook Review of The Book Thief
• Mere Christianity by C.S. Lewis
• Founding Mothers by Cokie Roberts

IF

By Rudyard Kipling

If you can keep your head when all about you
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And yet don’t look too good, nor talk too wise:

If you can dream – and not make dreams your master;
If you can think – and not make thoughts your aim;
If you can meet with Triumph and Disaster
And treat those two impostors just the same;
If you can bear to hear the truth you’ve spoken
Twisted by knaves to make a trap for fools,
Or watch the things you gave your life to, broken,
And stoop and build ‘em up with worn-out tools:

If you can make one heap of all your winnings
And risk it on one turn of pitch-and-toss,
And lose, and start again at your beginnings
And never breathe a word about your loss;
If you can force your heart and nerve and sinew
To serve your turn long after they are gone,
And so hold on when there is nothing in you
Except the Will which says to them: ‘Hold on!’

If you can talk with crowds and keep your virtue,
Or walk with Kings – nor lose the common touch,
if neither foes nor loving friends can hurt you,
If all men count with you, but none too much;
If you can fill the unforgiving minute
With sixty seconds’ worth of distance run,
Yours is the Earth and everything that’s in it,
And – which is more – you’ll be a Man, my son!

Poem in the public domain at The Kipling Society.

I am in New Zealand for nine days, but I have a few posts scheduled while I am gone. I may not be visiting your sites or responding to your comments while I am gone, but I’ll make up for it when I return!

• The Jungle Book(s) by Rudyard Kipling
• Just So Stories by Rudyard Kipling
• Poetry Friday: Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star
• A Poem in Your Pocket: Introduction to Poetry by Billy Collins
• Bookworms Carnival: Fairy Tales
• Divine Songs by Isaac Watts (Poetry Friday)
• Poetry Friday: Christmas Poems
• Poetry Friday: Sonnet 73 by William Shakespeare
• Lists and Challenges Updates
• Poetry for Young People: William Shakespeare

Decide for yourself by reading it at Project Gutenberg (1,500 words) or listening to it at LibriVox (10 minutes). Note that I read a new translation by Richard Pevear and Larissa Volokhonsky.

Here are some elements that make it perfect for me.

It is short

I mentioned that according to Harold Bloom, Edgar Allan Poe’s definition of short story is “read in one sitting.” But that’s not what I mean when I say “short” makes “The Student” a perfect short story. What I mean by “short” is that “The Student” captures an instant, not a lifetime. It doesn’t give too much back story; it doesn’t give too many details. It is concise and yet complete. And to me, it’s amazing to be able to create something so cohesive and powerful in so few words. (As I said when I reviewed On Writing, I don’t believe that length or quantity is a necessary measure of “good writing.”)

It captures one main character in one moment/subject

Sometimes a short story has two characters that act as one (a couple in a relationship, for example) but I think short stories that try to capture too many characters (as do some of Chekhov’s in the volume I’m reading) lack the pleasing organization or the “short and sweet” element that I like in a story. By nature, I think a short story needs to focus on one character/subject in either one moment or in one series of moments that relate (like a couple developing a relationship or a woman learning to respect her husband or a group of peasant women discussing how they will never love their husbands). “The Student” focuses on a young man, Ivan, on one wintery evening.

The character’s emotions are foremost

“The Student” follows the young man’s emotions as he walks in the wintery night, sits by the fire at the widows’ home, and then walks home. While Chekhov describes what happens and what people say, the young man’s emotions are the driving factor of the story.

Something happens, emotionally

While something physically happened in Turgenev’s stories, I didn’t feel any emotional draw to the characters. I am realizing that I approach literature through my emotions. For me, I loved the emotional draw in “The Student.” Ivan feels one way at the beginning of the story, has a very simple experience, and walks home at the end of the story feeling differently about his role in the world: past, present, and future. I think it is beautiful. Note that I don’t believe all stories necessarily need to have a positive emotional change for a story to be beautiful. But for every story that I like in the Chekhov volume I’m reading, there is some emotional realization at the end, whether that is happy or sad: I finish a story and sigh, wanting to let myself dwell on the emotion for a few moments before beginning the next story.

HTR&W

I wrote this post before reading Harold Bloom’s opinions in How to Read and Why. I may not even need to read what he says for some of these HTR&W works: I am loving Chekhov. If you don’t like Turgenev, don’t give up on the HTR&W list! These stories are better in my opinion. I’m really enjoying Chekhov’s stories, and I’ll write about Bloom’s comments and about the rest of the volume of Chekhov’s stories when I finish it.

Questions for you

Harold Bloom especially emphasized in his prologue that reading is an individual experience; what I like and am inspired by may not touch you in a similar manner. So I want to hear from you.

• What makes a short story “good” for you? Was “The Student” a “good” story for you?
• The back cover of my book calls “The Student” a “moving piece about the importance of religious tradition.” However, to me, I thought the religious story Ivan shares with the widows is not as important as the emotions explored. The introduction to my volume of Chekhov’s stories even admits that Chekhov, although familiar with the Christian traditions, was not a religious man. I believe “The Student” was about a young man understanding that his life can have an impact on others; his life has meaning. But what do you think? Is “The Student” a story about religious tradition?

Other thoughts:

• Stories by Anton Chekhov
• HTR&W: What Is a Short Story?
• Stories by Guy de Maupassant (Introductory Thoughts)
• How to Read and Why: Short Stories Retrospective
• Emotional Intelligence by Daniel Goleman
• Stories by Flannery O’Connor
• Love in a Fallen City and Other Stories by Eileen Chang
• A Selection of Poetry by John Donne
• Dubliners by James Joyce
• Stories by O. Henry (and Another BBAW Giveaway)

Dune by Frank Herbert

For me, Dune was a reminder that it is better not to know what will happen tomorrow, the next day, next week, or next year. We live one day at a time because we can handle today; by tomorrow, I may be ready for a greater challenge. The characters in Dune repeatedly found themselves knowing the future before they were ready to accept it or able to live it. Because of that, they found great strength within them, albeit with great apprehension and trial.

Arrakis itself is a planet of trial, the desert planet called Dune. On Arrakis, a sandworm creates a precious addictive spice, which the universe will pay anything to procure. Duke Leto Atreides has been called to rule Arrakis, leaving beautiful Caladon, where water falls from the sky, to rule the dune planet with his son Paul and the ducal concubine Jessica. But quickly the question becomes not whether the robust Fremen, the local inhabitants, will welcome the Atreides rule, but rather whether the Emperor is truly backing the Atreides Royal House. Paul and Jessica Atreides soon find themselves fighting for survival on Arrakis, even as they fight to determine who they really are.

I spent more than six months reading Dune simply because I was reading it aloud with my husband; we also are reading a nonfiction book and some evenings we’d read that instead. As a result, I didn’t find myself drawn into the story, although some nights it was a challenge to force myself not to read ahead. Herbert’s writing is not spectacular, but his imagination is admirable and his well-planned world is entertaining.

Herbert has written a number of sequels; even this book was obviously set up for a continuation of the story. He also has completely created the world: Dune has a glossary and five indexes describing the background to the world of Arrakis. It is a world as elaborate as the worlds of Star Trek and Star Wars.

Because I wasn’t completely drawn to this book (partially because of how I approached it and partially because I’m not a huge fan of science fiction), I can’t say yet that I will read the sequels. Have you read any of the sequels? Are they worth reading? Have you read Dune? What did you think about it?

Other reviews:

If you have reviewed Dune, leave a link in the comments and I’ll add your link to this post.

• Foundation by Isaac Asimov
• Winner of Anthem + Swamped
• Why Women Should Rule the World by Dee Dee Myers
• The Little Prince by Antoine de Saint-Exupéry
• Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle
• The Life and Adventures of Santa Claus by L. Frank Baum
• Little Women by Louisa May Alcott