It is unfair of me to only allot “brief” afterthoughts for the mega-monster volume that is Gone with the Wind but I do hope to rein in my frustrations. I know Gone with the Wind (1939) is a beloved novel by many. It did little for me. Please note that this is my negative opinion.

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It is not often that I finish a book and feel nothing positive. I tend to like most of what I read, and even if I don’t like it, I try to find something that sheds light on life in some way. I struggle now to think of what I could possibly find redeeming in

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The illustrations to Abraham Lincoln by Ingri and Edgar Parin d’Aulaire are quaint color pencil, which matches the folktale-like subject matter. They don’t wow me as other Caldecott winners do, but as the 1940 Medal Winner, I think the art in d’Aulaires’ biography about Lincoln are sufficiently award-worthy.  Abraham Lincoln reads like a novel; it was easy

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