Category: Book Reviews

The return of The Penderwicks

After reading The Penderwicks, I had to move the sequel up my reading list, so I read it yesterday right after I finished the Noli.
The Penderwicks on Gardam Street by Jeanne Birdsall (Book #56 for 2009) did not disappoint, and I think I liked it even more than the first book, even.

The Penderwicks are back with their delightful antics, this time right in their own backyard, on Gardam Street. The girls’ Aunt Claire comes over for a visit, with a letter from their mother (from several years ago, written on her deathbed), encouraging Mr. Penderwick to date so he doesn’t get lonely. The girls are fearful of getting a wicked stepmom, so they devise a “Save Daddy” plan, setting their father up with horrible women to discourage him from dating.

With that premise, you just know there are hilarious episodes that follow: matchmaking mayhem, Antonio’s Pizza vs. Cameron’s Hardware soccer matches, disastrous homework switching, The Sixth Grade Performance Night, Batty’s spy missions, and surprise, surprise: Rosalind’s turn at romance.

The characters are as charming as ever: Martin Penderwick still lapsing into Latin expressions, Batty not as shy on her home turf, Hound as dependable as ever and Skye as tempestuous as ever, and Jane still with her head in the clouds.

Rosalind however, will surprise readers in the sequel as she acts more her age: acting out because her dad is dating again, momentarily tiring of the big sister role, and confused about her feelings for Tommy. To me this normalcy comes as a pleasant surprise; I was afraid she had been growing up too soon.

The return of Churchie and Jeffrey are very much welcome, while new characters — the Geigers (Tommy is so cute!), new neighbors Iantha Rosenberg, baby Ben, and the cat Asimov — make this family romp more fun.

I like the sensitivity and warmth Birdsall puts into her books, and how the Penderwicks uphold family values in the 21st century.

Great for tween girls, the 8-12 bunch.

***
My copy: hardcover with dustjacket

My rating: 4.5/5 stars

Rereading the Noli

I’ve never read Noli Me Tangere (book #55 for 2009, book #10 for the Diversity Challenge : Filipino novel) outside of our class requirements in high school and in college, and so it was at the top of my list for this year; I really wanted to read it for leisure.

Upon the recommendation of my Flipper/BMP friend Czar, I chose the English translation by Ma. Soledad Lacson-Locsin (published by Bookmark) that I got for P100 at the Manila International Book Fair. English because I read faster in English than in Filipino, and this particular translation because I heard it was the most accurate. There is also a Penguin edition, although it’s translated by a Caucasian, so I’m not sure how it pans out, but it should be worth trying out as well.

Re-reading the Noli: perfect with a cup of “Tsokolate Eh”
Lacson-Locsin explains in her introduction:

“Although translations have to be in tandem with the semantics of the age in which they are read to be appreciated, my own personal view is that they should, as much as possible, capture much of the nuances and cadence of the period in which they had been written; even at the risk of sounding awkward or stilted…

It is also my view that the heart and mind need to understand and touch the past close to its pristine form, to sense the pulse of national heritage. If the Filipino cannot truly grasp his own past he may not value his present nor ascertain his future.”

It took me about a week to finish the novel; I had a lot on my plate for the past week and I fear for my reading ratio for the next three months because I’m working on a big illustration project and I can’t exactly read and draw at the same time (unfortunately), but I am determined to get through it, even if I have to read one chapter as a reward for each finished segment of the project.

Anyway, back to the Noli.

Since not all my readers are Filipino, I need to explain. The Noli Me Tangere is one of the two novels written by our national hero, Jose Rizal. A reading requirement for high schools in the Philippines, the novel was originally written in Spanish, and was a great influence on political thinking in the 19th and 20th century. It’s a bit difficult to summarize — you can read about it on Wikipedia.

I like the Noli’s coversational tone, especially in setting the scene for the novel. It starts out with the party at Capitan Tiago’s house, and the narrator, much like a tour guide, quips: “since no porters or servants ask for the invitation cards, let us go up.”

The narrator then goes on to describe the house in detail, from the interiors to the adornments of paintings and the religious statues, the magnificent spread, and even the crowd of partygoers. I love the witty descriptions and succinct observations about society:

“At the center is a long table… which seems to wink temptingly at the freeloaders with sweet promises; and to threaten the timid youth or the unsophisticated lass with two mortal hours in the company of stranger whose language and conversation tend to have a jargon all their own.” “Generally speaking, we mortals are like tortoises: we are valued for our shells.”

Idyll in an Azotea

After all these years, I still have my favorite chapter — Idyll in an Azotea.

Chapter 7, which is forever engrained in my memory as “Pag-uulayaw sa Azotea” (that sounds more romantic!), is, to this day, one of the most romantic pieces I have ever read in print, either in English or Filipino. I remember that day we read it in class, and the classroom resounded with a chorus of schoolgirl sighs, each of us imagining ourselves as Maria Clara in this jesting banter of young lovers, superimposing an image of the crush for the moment against the image of Crisostomo Ibarra. Reading it again, nearly a decade later, I am no less moved.

The chapter captures young love so accurately, from Maria Clara’s heartpounding anticipation of Ibarra’s arrival:

“Each sound from the street, each carriage that passes by causes the maiden’s bosom to throb, and makes her tremble. Ah! Now she wishes she were back in her quiet and peaceful convent among her friends. There she would be able to see him without trembling, without feeling disturbed. But, was he not your childhood friend; did you not play many games together, and even quarrel sometimes? If you who read this have loved, you will understand; if not, it is useless for me to tell you; the profane cannot comprehend these mysteries.”

The pretense of focusing elsewhere other than the object of affection upon the moment of encounter:

“Capitan Tiago and Ibarra were talking animatedly when Tia Isabel appeared, practically dragging forward her niece who was looking everywhere in the room except those at present. What were those two souls saying who were communicating in the language of the eyes, more perfectly than with the lips, a language given by the soul so that sound does not disturb the ecstasy of feeling? In those moments, when the thoughts of two happy beings are blended into one through the eyes, the word is gross, slow and weak; it is like the rude and dull sound of thunder, before the blinding flash and speed of lightning; it expresses an already known feeling, an idea already understood; and if we make use of it, it is because of the heart’s ambition, which dominates all of one’s being, and which overflows with happiness, wishing that all of the human organism with all its faculties, physical and psychic, would manifest the symphony of happiness intoned by the spirit. To a query of love by a glance, brilliant or veiled, the word has no answer: only the smile, the kiss, or the sigh.”

And the fervent reassurance and renewal of undying love:

Ibarra: Can I forget you? Would I be faithless to a vow, a sacred vow?… I took hold of your hand and that of my dead mother, I swore to love you, to make you happy no matter what fate Heaven had in store for me; and this oath I have
never regretted. Now I am renewing it. Can I forgmaet you? Your memory has always kept me company; it has saved me from dangers along the way; it has been my comfort in the solitude of my soul in foreign countries; your memory has negated the effect of the European lotus of forgetfulness, which effaces from the remembrance of many of our countrymen the hopes and the sorrows of the Motherland.

Maria Clara: I have not travelled as you have, nor do I know of a town other than your own, Manila and Antipolo. But since I bade you farewell and entered the convent I have always recalled and not forgotten you, even if my confessor commanded me to do so, imposing many penances…

And then they reveal their precious mementos of each other, Ibarra a bunch of withered aromatic sage leaves that she gathered for him, kept inside his wallet, and Maria Clara, his farewell letter, encased in a satin pouch kept on her bosom (!).

Sigh.

On Sisa

Sisa , a young woman who is a victim of her situation, a long-suffering wife and a loving mother, is one of the saddest characters I have ever encountered.

Even in the chapter in which she is introduced, before she becomes demented, you can already see how she has been reduced to a shell of a person:

“Sisa covered the scanty coals with ashes so as not to extinguish them completely, the same way a man covers up the feelings of his soul– covers them with the ashes of life which are called indifference, so that they are not extinguished by the quotidian treatment of our fellowmen.”

And with the trauma she experiences as the novel unfolds, you really wouldn’t be surprised that she loses her marbles.

On revolution

I promised myself this was going to be a leisurely reading, but it’s hard to separate the novel from its political underpinnings, given the context in which it was written.

I do not have the authority or qualifications to launch into a discourse of the political statements presented by Noli Me Tangere, so I’ll just take a few quotes that struck me, and you can draw your own conclusions:

P.226, Elias: “Woe unto them who are engaged in deception and work in darkness, believing that all are asleep! When the light of day illuminates the monster of the shadows, the terrible reaction will come: so much strength bottled up over centuries; so much venom distilled drop by drop; so much lament suppressed will come out and explode…”

p.231, Pilosopo Tasyo: “If that should happen, if the enterprise fails, what will console you is the thought of having done your part. And even thus, something would be gained: lay the first stone, sow; after the storm is unleashed, some grain of wheat will perhaps germinate, survive the catastrophe, save from destruction the species which would later serve as seed for the sons of the dead sower.”

p. 298, Elias: “In life, it is not the criminals who arouse the hatred of others, but men who are honest.”

p.434, Elias: “Criminals, or future criminals — but why are they such? Because their peace has been broken, their happiness wrenched from them; they have been wounded in their most cherished affections. When they asked justice for protection, they became convinced that they can expect it only from themselves. But you are mistaken, Sir, if you think criminals only ask for it. Go from town to town, from house to house, listen to the silent sighs of families; you will be convinced that the evils the Civil Guard correct are the same, if not less than the evils they continually cause…”

Drawing to the close

I finally finished the book yesterday morning, and found it so sad I cried through the last five chapters, from “Wedding Plans for Maria Clara” right down to the epilogue — crying for the love of Maria Clara and Crisostomo, crying for Sisa’s death in her son’s arms and Basilio’s loss of innocence, and crying for the turmoil yet to come in the 2nd novel, El Filibusterismo, which I have also lined up for this year.

The Noli was even better than I remembered it, especially reading it as a work of fiction and outside of academic requirement. Hopefully this blog entry gets more people to read (or re-read) this Filipino classic.

***
My copy: paperback copy from Bookmark, crying out to be upgraded (hay, someday…)

My rating: 5/5 stars

The Three Little Pigs go Po-Mo

I know I just did a picture book roundup, but I’m really excited to share two picture books I got this weekend, both a deconstruction of the story of the Three Little Pigs: The True Story of the Three Little Pigs by A. Wolf as told to Jon Scieszka, illustrated by Lane Smith; and The Three Pigs (book #54 for 2009), written and illustrated by David Wiesner.

I have had a fascination for postmodern picture books since I was in college, and I have a growing collection of them. It totally revolutionizes picture books as we know them, and it’s great genius on the part of the writers and especially the illustrators.

Postmodern picture books are often characterized by:

  • Nontraditional ways of using plot, character, and setting, which challenge reader expectations and require different ways of reading and viewing;
  • Unusual uses of the narrator’s voice to position the reader to read the book in particular ways and through a particular characters’ eyes (this can be achieved by the written or visual text);
  • Indeterminacy in written or illustrative text, plot, character, or setting, which requires the reader to construct some of the text and meanings;
  • A pastiche of illustrative styles, which require the reader to employ a range of knowledge and grammars to read;
  • New and unusual design and layout, which challenge the reader’s perception of how to read a book;
  • Contesting discourses (between illustrative and written text), which require the reader to consider alternate readings and meaning; intertextuality, which requires the reader to use background knowledge in order to access the available meanings; and
  • The availability of multiple readings and meanings for a variety of audiences.
(Anstey, M. (2002). “It’s not all black and white”: Postmodern picture books and new literacies. Journal of Adolescent & Adult Literacy)

Now, I’ve long been a fan of Lane Smith, especially when he’s teamed up with John Scieszka, because they just make me laugh out loud! I have a growing collection of their picture books, starting with The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Stories, Squids will be Squids, Cowboy and Octopus, Pinocchio, and Math Curse. I think I’m just missing a few – Science Curse, the Abe Lincoln book, and Seen Art?.

I’ve had a paperback copy of The True Story of the Three Little Pigs for around 4 years now, but when I saw the hardcover, 10 year anniversary edition of the book at Book Sale for only P120, I just had to have it (never mind that I bought the paperback full price, for more than twice the amount.

The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, with Totoro :)
The True Story of the Three Little Pigs is told from the wolf’s point of view, and he cries out, “I was framed!”

He pleads not guilty, stating, “Hey, it’s not my fault wolves eat cute little animals like bunnies and sheep and pigs. That’s just the way we are. If cheeseburgers were cute, folks would probably think you were Big and Bad too.”

cheeseburger: wolf version
A. Wolf, or Alexander T. Wolf, shares his side of the story, the real story, he says, which is about a sneeze and a cup of sugar.

Apparently, he was making a birthday cake for his granny when he ran out of sugar, so he went over to the pigs’ house to borrow a cup of sugar. The problem is, he had a bad cold, and when he sneezed, the first two houses – the one made of straw and the one made of sticks – collapsed on top of the their owners, and the wolf thought it would be a shame to let some perfectly good ham go to waste.

The third house was brick, though, and the wolf had a nasty exchange of words with the third pig, who wouldn’t lend him a cup of sugar for his dear granny’s birthday cake. So he huffed, and he puffed… and that’s how the cops found him.

He says that the cup of sugar story wasn’t exactly breaking news, so the police jazzed up the story and he became famous as the Big Bad Wolf.

breaking news!
Lane Smith’s rich, textured illustrations make the story doubly funny, adding little (sometimes morbid) jokes into the illustrations. The 10 year anniversary edition, which I now have, throws in a few more laughs: there is a letter from A. Wolf complaining his ten-year imprisonment and decrying the testimony made by a certain girl in a red riding hood. The back of the book has also been vandalized with different opinions on the case.
wall graffiti
Now that I’ve “done a Blooey” on this book, i.e. upgraded yet another paperback into hardcover (in Flippers/Moochers terms), I now have a spare copy of the book (in pristine condition), but I think I already have someone in mind for the book. I’ll have to find out if that person has this already, or else it’ll go into my BookMooch inventory.

By the way, I’m really loving how hardcover picture books from the US have “reinforced binding” that make them good for lots and lots of readings. Hopefully my (future + hypothetical) kids get to appreciate my growing collection of picture books, which ran out of shelves, like, several dozen books ago. I wish they’d devise the same type of binding for other types of books.

My second book for today is The Three Pigs by David Wiesner, who has fast become another one of my favorites, ever since I found a battered copy of Tuesday in a bargain bin (I think the one I mooched got lost in the mail).

According to the jacket, “Ever since the pigs took to the air at the end of Tuesday, he [Wiesner] has wanted to give them a book of their own” – hence The Three Pigs, which received the 2001 Caldecott Medal. It amazes me how this guy just racks up the Caldecotts.

Before reading this book, I’d have thought The True Story of the Three Little Pigs would be a tough act to beat, but Wiesner does a great job with this book. Aside from deconstructing the story, The Three Pigs deconstructs the actual structure of the book, with a touch of metafiction, as the characters become aware that they are characters in a book.

It starts out as the regular Three Little Pigs story, but the wolf huffs and puffs so hard that he blows the first pig right out of the story. Confused, the wolf moves on to the next house, but as he huffs and puffs, the first pig coaxes the second one out of the story and the wolf is even more confused when he finds the second house empty.

When the two pigs reach the third house, the third pig is surprised because they haven’t been eaten up. They knock away some pages of the book, fold it up, make a paper plane and have the time of their lives, until the plane crashes into a crumpled heap.

folding the pages
My favorite scene — the paper plane ride
The three pigs find another story and they enter it – it’s Hey Diddle Diddle. They get out of the story and the cat with the fiddle follows them out. They enter another story, this time with a dragon, and they save the dragon from getting slain by taking him out of his story.

The pigs finally go home to their story, and piece it back together so that the wolf gets to the brick house, and when he huffs and puffs and is unable to blow down the house, the dragon pokes his head out and the letters from the text get scattered. The pigs decide they’ve had quite enough and leave the wolf outside while they (pigs + cat + dragon) all head inside to have some soup.

Dragon’s head butts into the text, scattering the letters
I love how smart David Wiesner’s books are, and this one reminds me of one of my favorite book series, Jasper Fforde’s Thursday Next series. I like how the pigs defy the structure of the book, jumping from one story into another, ultimately taking charge of their fate.

I also love how Wiesner uses different styles to establish the jump from story to story, and the pigs adapt to the illustration style wherever they are situated— from the vintage style of The Three Little Pigs, the realistic style of the “space” outside the books, the simplistic style of the nursery rhyme book, and the coloring book style of the dragon story. When the pigs are halfway out the story, they’re also illustrated in half-and-half styles. Wiesner is such a genius!

The pigs jumping into the coloring book-style dragon story
The Three Little Pigs is a great children’s classic, but it’s even better when it goes po-mo! :)

***
My copy: The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, hardcover 10 year anniversary edition (upgraded from Scholastic paperback); The Three Pigs, hardcover — both P120 at Book Sale

My rating: The True Story of the Three Little Pigs, 5/5 stars; The Three Pigs 5/5 stars

A Pig, A Panda, and a Tiger (Picture book roundup #4)

Another picture book roundup for lazy Sunday, so I can catch up on my reading (cramming a few more books into what’s left of March). Today’s roundup includes three award-winning books: Olivia, written and illustrated by William Falconer (Book #51 for 2009), Zen Shorts written and illustrated by John J. Muth (Book #52 for 2009), and A Visit to William Blake’s Inn by Nancy Willard, illustrated by Alice and Martin Provensen (Book #53 for 2009).

I’ve wanted an Olivia book for so long, but I rarely buy picture books for more than P100 at Book Sale so I had to wait until I came across this great P65 board book. Olivia is the latest addition to the list of my character-based collections – Madeline, Babar, Curious George, and Eloise.

Olivia (Caldecott Honor Book 2001) is the story of that now-familiar scribbly pig who likes fashion, art, ballet, and books — a very cultured pig indeed. This picture book has few words, and as the story is character-based, there is not much of a plot. It’s mostly an introduction to Olivia as a character, and the rest of the Olivia books tell the stories.

The illustrations, of course, make the book special (hence the Caldecott). Olivia’s peculiar appearance gives her instant recall — a top heavy pig with little spindly arms and legs, rendered in charcoal and gouache, looking like she’s been scrawled onto the page. Olivia is mostly grayscale (except when she gets sunburnt at the beach), with the occasional spot color (usually clothes), and the simplicity emphasizes her comic appeal — she’ll have you in stitches with the visual humor that appeals to all ages.

There’s something very French and chic about Olivia (and not just the name) that delights me, because it’s unexpected from a pig character. The book is great for a budding fashionista — Olivia, and her family dress up in decidedly French styles – maillot swimsuits, striped shirts, turtlenecks, opera gowns, sailor dresses and dark shades. Her cultural tastes are also French, from Degas (there’s a Pollock too, though) to ballet, and Callas.

Next on the lineup is Zen Shorts (Caldecott Honor 2006), which I actually read a couple weeks ago for the Flippers’ Japanese book discussion. I found my paperback copy at Book Sale for P60, and as soon as I spotted it, I knew I had to buy it.

Zen Shorts features a panda named Stillwater, who befriends siblings Michael, Karl, and Addy. Enclosed within this story are three Zen “shorts” – short stories from Zen Buddhist literature that challenge the reader to reexamine his or her habits, desires, concepts and fears. In the same way, Stillwater uses the Zen “shorts” (“Uncle Ry and the Moon,” “A Heavy Load,” and “Farmer’s Luck”) as gentle teaching tools for the three kids.


There are two illustration styles used in this book, a full-color watercolor wash for the main story, and a heavier pen and ink style for the Zen Shorts, a great juxtaposition of Western and Oriental techniques that mirror the realistic Western story framing three stories of Oriental philosophy. I like how this all ties together in introducing abstract philosophical concepts to kids, with Stillwater as the very huggable sensei, not to mention that it makes for a very engaging picture book.

The last book, A Visit to William Blake’s Inn: Poems for the Innocent and Experienced Travelers caught my eye because it had both the gold and silver badges (Newbery Medal 1982 and Caldecott Honor 1982), and it was only P65 at Book Sale.

The book is about a fictitious inn owned by William Blake, which houses his fantastic creations, such as the Rabbit, the Rat, the Wise Cow, the King of Cats, the Tiger, and the Man in the Marmalade Hat. William Blake is also one of the characters in this collection of poetry that pays homage to Blake’s work.

Gouache paintings bring the poetry and all its vivid characters to life, with intricate architectural details. I love the tigers and the cats in particular, who remind me of my beloved Tabby, Tomas :) A beautiful book showcasing beautiful poetry, this is a great addition to my picture book collection!

***
My copies: Olivia, board book; Zen Shorts and A Visit to William Blake’s Inn, paperback

My rating: Olivia 5/5 stars; Zen Shorts 5/5 stars; A Visit to William Blake’s Inn 5/5 stars

Some good, old-fashioned fun (The big 5-0 milestone!)

I’d seen Jeanne Birdsall’s The Penderwicks: A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy (Book #50 for 2009) on bookstore shelves for some time already without really wanting to pick it up, until my officemate Andi gave me a hardbound copy (thanks Andi!) as an early Christmas present, along with a glowing recommendation. The book was shrink-wrapped, and there was no blurb at the back so I decided to look it up online to find out more about it.

I was surprised to find out it won the 2005 National Book Award for Young People’s Literature (among a plethora of awards, making it Book #9 for the FFP Diversity Challenge, award-winner) and I was so curious about the book that I moved it up my TBR list.

The story revolves around the adventures (and misadventures) of the Penderwick sisters Rosalind (12), Skye (11), Jane (10), and Batty (4) — together with Dad (a widower) and faithful dog Hound — on their summer holiday in the countryside, in a quaint rental cottage on the grand estate of Arundel.

I like the Penderwicks because although it’s set in modern time, it’s throwback to the family classics, reminding me of Louisa May Alcott’s Little Women, Sidney Taylor’s All-of-a-Kind family, and even a bit of Dodie Smith’s I Capture the Castle. There are no fantastic creatures, no magic powers, no slam-bang special effects — just a very charming, feel-good family story.

It’s great how Birdsall took care to make the characters distinct; usually the pitfall of family stories, especially those with lots of kids, is that only one or two personalities stand out, and the rest fade into the background. I like the sensitivity towards fleshing out each sister — you can easily tell them apart, like Meg, Jo, Beth, and Amy in Little Women.

Rosalind, the eldest, is the serious, responsible one. She’s patient with her siblings, although she loses her patience once in a while, and has that take-charge / surrogate mom attitude. Losing their mom at a young age, she’s had to fill in some large shoes in taking care of her sisters, and she often comes across as quite mature for her age. It comes as a relief, though, that she hasn’t grown up too fast — she gets her first taste of unrequited love in that summer, and it’s amusing and poignant at the same time.

Skye is the tempestuous sister. While you wouldn’t say she’s the wild child, she’s definitely no lamb either. Adjudged to be the family beauty (she’s the only one with blue eyes and silky blonde hair like their mom, the rest have brown eyes and curly brown hair), Skye is a no-frills tomboy and a loudmouth to boot, but is fiercely protective of their family.

Jane is the writer, the dreamer, often with her nose buried in the notebook into which she writes her Sabrina Starr stories. With a fertile imagination and a creative spirit, Jane is much given to building great adventures out of everyday experiences, and breaking into lyrical speech whenever an opportunity presents itself.

Little Batty, the baby of the family, is the shy soul, often obscuring herself in the shadow of her sisters, but acutely perceptive of her surroundings, and truly a bit batty, as her name suggests. She is also an animal lover, with Hound often following close at her heels.

It is truly an idyllic summer for the sisters in the country side, where the cast is rounded out by the handsome gardener Cagney, the generous cook Churchie, Harry the tomato-grower, the snooty Mrs. Tifton and her boyfriend Dexter Dupree, and the spirited Jeffrey, who soon becomes initiated as an honorary Penderwick.

The novel’s simplicity is its charm, and there very few children’s books in this day and age that dare strip down to good, old-fashioned fun because it is almost inconceivable, but Birdsall manages quite gracefully, and bags a National Book Award while she’s at it.

The Penderwicks is a must-read for tween girls; it’s a great introduction to the classic Little Women. And there’s a sequel, too: The Penderwicks on Gardam Street, which I mean to read soon (just as soon as I get some plastic cover on it!)

Here’s a little doodle :)

***
My copy: hardcover, with dust jacket

My rating: 4.5/5 stars