Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts
Showing posts with label 1960s. Show all posts

Monday, April 11, 2011

REVIEW: The Phantom Tollbooth


Juster, N.  (1961).  The Phantom Tollbooth.  New York:  Dell Yearling.

256 pages.


If you would have asked me a couple of months ago, I would have sworn that I never read The Phantom Tollbooth.  Ever.  When I finally listened to the audio book and then picked up a paperback copy, I started to realize a few of the characters Milo meets seemed...familiar.


It turns out I *did* read the classic novel sometime around the fourth or fifth grade.  It just didn't leave much of an impression.  In fact, I'm pretty sure I thought it was boring with an image or two capturing my interest every now and then (like Alec, who always had the same point of view and so walked on air waiting to "grow down" and reach his full height, or like Milo leading an orchestra in the sunrise).


As an adult though, my impression has changed.  (Although, Alec the boy who walks in the air and conducting an orchestra in colors are still two of my favorite moments.)



Appetizer:  Milo is one out of sorts little boy.  He just doesn't know what to do with himself.  He's not interested in anything.  One day, he arrives home to find someone has delivered a small car, a map and the phantom tollbooth.  After going through the tollbooth, Milo finds himself in a fantastic land, where cities named Dictionopolis and Digitopolis are always at odds.  The only hope for the entire country is to bring back the princesses Rhyme and Reason to the country.  Milo, along with some of the friends he makes along the way, may have the best chance at restoring rhyme and reason to the land.

With lots of play with language and filled with observations about culture, I wouldn't call The Phantom Tollbooth a plot driven novel by any means.  (At that could have been part of my problem as a fourth or fifth grader.)  Instead of tension, the novel is more episodic revealing witty observations and critiques of culture and language.  I think it is a book that, when used with kids, an adult should help mediate the experience, to help the kids know what it is they should be taking away from the story.

For my students, the aspect of the novel that seemed to strike them the most was the conflict and companionship between language and mathematics.  By chance, I wound up with a lot of students who plan to be math teachers someday.  Generally, a lot of future math teachers are unhappy that they are required to take my course, which inherently favors language arts and social studies.  So, it seemed to be an inspiring and powerful message that our first book explored this supposed battle between math and language (through the conflict between Digitopolis and Dictionopolis).  I even got the best-est email ever from a student saying they couldn't wait to incorporate The Phantom Tollbooth and other literature into his math classroom.  (YAY)

My students are now in the exact right place for me to show them my favorite picturebook series about math EVER:


Don't you just see this book and want to read it?

If I'd had a teacher who'd shown me this series's mix of fantasy, history and math when I was younger maybe I would have enjoyed math a little more.

Despite all of the wonderful and witty explorations of idioms and discussions of math and how they go hand-in-hand, my students still came to the conclusion that language was favored throughout The Phantom Tollbooth since more chapters were set in Dictionopolis than in Digitopolis.  But we did discuss how we loved the fact that a pencil is described as a "magic staff" capable of great power and magic.  That is such a powerful metaphor.  I love it!

Sidenote--I originally listened to the audio book of this novel and it caused me to declare it to be THE MOST BORING BOOK EVER.  Reading it myself made it much more enjoyable for some reason or another.  Something for you readers of the world to be aware of.


Dinner Conversation:

"There was once a boy named Milo who didn't know what to do with himself--not just sometimes, but always.
When he was in school he longed to be out, and when he was out he longed to be in.  On the way he thought about coming home, and coming home he thought about going.  Wherever he was he wished he were somewhere else, and when he got there he wondered why he'd bothered.  Nothing really interested him--least of all the things that should have" (p. 9).

"Suddenly he found himself speeding along an unfamiliar country highway, and as he looked back over his shoulder neither the tollbooth nor his room nor even the house was anywhere in sight.  What had started as make-believe was nor very real" (p. 16).

"Well, then," said Milo, not understanding why each one said the same thing in a slightly different way, "wouldn't it be simpler to use just one?  It would certainly make more sense."
"Nonsense."
"Ridiculous."
"Fantastic."
"Absurd."
"Bosh," they chorused again, and continued.
"We're not interested in making sense; it's not our job," scolded the first."  (p. 40)

"And so they were taking from the palace and sent far away to the Castle in the Air, and they have not been seen since.  This is why today, in all this land, there is neither Rhyme nor Reason."
"And what happened to the two rulers?" asked Milo.
"Banishing the two princesses was the last thing they ever agreed upon, and they soon fell to warring with each other.  Despite this, their own kingdoms have continued to prosper, but the old city of Wisdom has fallen into great disrepair, and there is no one to set things right."  (p. 77)


Tasty Rating:  !!!!


Although I picked up this novel only to discover that I had in fact read it as a child, I'd still like to count The Phantom Tollbooth in the "Wish I'd Read That" Challenge, since if I hadn't picked it up to read, I would not have discovered that I was actually re-reading it.

Wednesday, November 24, 2010

REVIEW: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler

Kinigsburg, E.L.  (1967).  From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler.  New York:  Aladdin Paperbacks.

162 pages.


As a child, I always meant to read The Mixed-Up Files.  I just never got around to it.  The same was true when I was an adult.

It took my students choosing it as a class read to finally getting around to reading it.

And as I started the book, I wished I'd gotten around to it much sooner.  From the first page I as entertained by Claudia's characterization.


Appetizer:  Claudia Kincaid, the oldest of four children, has decided to run away.  But the detail-oriented girl refuses to do it in the ordinary way.  She plots and plans, saves money and chooses one of her little brothers--who compliments her well--to join her in escaping to the Metropolitan Museum of Art.

Her and Jamie work as a team to mange how to get food, find a place to sleep and do laundry.
When a new exhibit of a small angel statue is put on display, Claudia can't help but be drawn in by the mystery of the sculpture and wants her and Jamie to to solve the mystery of whether or not Michelangelo sculpted it.

I like how practical the book is.  Konigsburg makes a point of dealing with all of the issues about how the Claudia and Jamie spent their money (got more money), remained hidden from the museum security and spent their time.

(Of course, including these practical issues also dates the text since the value of a dollar has inflated so much.  It's hard to imagine a train ticket, a meal, etc. ever being as cheap as they are in the book.  Plus, the siblings don't have to contend with any high-tech security systems that a runaway of today might face...not that I've given this thought and am considering running away to a museum.  Not at all.)

Hello, Columbus Museum of Art....

 
You are a nice museum, aren't you?


No.  No plans to run away to the museum.  None at all.

I mean, who would feed my cats while I was gone?


While the four students who chose to read the book (alas, this is the problem between having students pick between reading a novel and a picturebook, almost all of them chose the picturebook) enjoyed it, as a group we failed to address one of the biggest potential problems of the text.  The fact that the main characters run away and the messages that sends (while Claudia and Jamie do feel a little homesick, the reader is almost entirely denied seeing the grief that their family experienced at their disappearance).

The easiest argument is to say that the book provides the reader with a sense of escape and that no reader will actually be inspired to run away based on reading the book.  And I don't really have any thoughts to add to that argument since there aren't any statistics on children who were inspired by 1960s children's literature to leave home and camp-out at a national museum.


Dinner Conversation:

"You never knew that I could write this well, did you?  Of course, you don't actually know yet, but you soon will.  I've spent a lot of time on this file.  I listened.  I investigated, and I fitted all the pieces together like a jigsaw puzzle.  It leaves no doubts.  Well, Saxonberg, read and discover" (p. 3).

"Claudia knew that she could never pull off the old-fashioned kind of running away.  That is, running away in the heat of anger with a knapsack on her back.  She didn't like discomfort; even picnics were untidy and inconvenient:  all those insect and the sun melting the icing on the cupcakes.  Therefore, she decided that her leaving home would not be just running from somewhere but would be running to somewhere.  To a large place, a comfortable place.  And that's why she decided upon the Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City" (p. 5).

"I want you, Jamie, for the greatest adventure in our lives."
Jamie muttered, "Well, I wouldn't mind if you'd pick on someone else."
"Claudia looked out the window and didn't answer.  Jamie said, "As long as you've got me here, tell me" (p. 13).

"This was all Claudia needed.  Something that had been smoldering inside her since she first saw the statue, that had been fed by the Times article, now flared into an idea.
"Jamie, let's do it now.  Let's skip learning everything about everything in the museum.  Let's concentrate on the statue" (p. 62)


Tasty Rating:  !!!

Tuesday, October 27, 2009

REVIEW: The Bravest Knight

Mayer, M.  (1968).  The Bravest Knight.  New York:  Dial Books for Young Readers.
9780803732063

The Bravest Knight, which was reissued in 2007, shares the story of a young modern boy who dreams of having lived a thousand years ago so that he could have been a squire to a knight and enjoy all of the fantasy and romanticism ascribed to that time.

The Bravest Knight is illustrated in Mayer's familiar style with full color and a lot of humor incorporated.  And the reader needs to have acquired visual literacy to be able to understand that humor.

Since this is a classic and is reflective of when it was written with regard to the fact that feminism still hadn't snuck into children's literature yet, the princess figure is rather passive, a character to be rescued.


Activities:

The Bravest Knight could be used to begin a lesson on what daily life would really be like during the dark ages, since the book (at least early on) does a decent description of a squire's duties before shifting into a more fantastic path.

This book could give voice to a desire for those young children who prefer fantasy and imagination to reality.  I wish I had found this book when I was a child.


Quotes of Note:

"I wish I lived a thousand years ago."

"There would be beautiful castles, kings and queens, good knights, bad knights, fair ladies in danger, evil dragons from the mountains..."

"I would work for the bravest knight in the kingdom and be his squire."

"The knight and I would wander through the countryside in search of adventure."

Wednesday, October 21, 2009

REVIEW: Mother Mother I Feel Sick Send for the Doctor Quick Quick Quick



Charlip, R. & Supree, B.  (1966).  Mother Mother I Feel Sick Send for the Doctor Quick Quick Quick.  Berkeley, CA:  Tricycle Press.

1582460434

As can be assumed by the title, a child isn't feeling well and his mother calls for a doctor.  The doctor soon discovers that the boy, who initially appears balloon-shaped, ate a teeny-weeny-taddy-waddy-bit tooooooo much.  Just a little.  *Holds up fingers a mere inch apart*  And while initially it seems the boy just ate too many apples and too much cake (with the candles still lit), the doctor soon discovers the boys appetite extends to much more than food.

The illustrations show that the book is set in the Victorian era, when doctors making house calls were more common.  The outlines of the adults' outfits are fun, with the doctor in a stovepipe hat and the woman with poofy-shouldered sleeves and a dress.  The backgrounds and settings are colorful and beautifully patterned (For reals!  I wants that purple wall paper!!!!!!).  The characters and featured objects are often white, as though they are cut-out figures and light is shining through behind them.  At other times they are all black, as though they are shadow puppets.  (Although, the objects the sick boy ate are in color)  The book also uses the space of the page well, often showing a lot of empty space between the doctor and boy and the location where the mother waits for her son to improve.

The vast majority of young readers will find humor in the crazy things the young boy ate.  I was particularly entertained by the boy's taste for hats.  Of course, there will probably be a small percentage of readers, who will take the book very seriously.  For those students, I recommend telling them that gullible is written on the ceiling.  And then stealing their lunch money.  Hopefully that'll help them develop a sense of humor.  Who me?  A child bully?

But seriously, I like the rhythm that Mother Mother I Feel Sick has.  It lends itself to a quick read aloud, that a teacher could then go back over at a slower pace.   After I first read the title, I wandered away to do non-bloggery things and I found myself repeating "Send for the doctor, quick, quick, quick" over and over again in my head.  It wouldn't go away.  "Quick.  Quick.  Quick."

The picturebook does feature stereotypical gender roles in the adults.  The man is a doctor and the woman is portrayed solely in terms of being a worried mother.


Activities:

Mother Mother I Feel Sick Send for the Doctor Quick Quick Quick can be used to help a young child overcome a fear of doctors.  While a parent or teacher could describe the boy as having surgery, no icky details are shown and the boy is shown to recover quickly and be better off because of the experience.

Since the boy's problem is his appetite, a teacher can use this book in a discussion of obesity and choosing meals wisely.

The story could also be used as a counting book, since a teacher could have students count all of the objects the boy eats.  Plus, the text includes sentences like, "One!  Two!  Three!  And one's a ball!"  I'm not making a big stretch here.

After sharing this story, a teacher could also present students with shadow puppets for the first time.  (While I came to this conclusion all by myself, a small note at the end also recommends this)  If the teacher wanted to stick close to the original story, they could have a few students voice the characters, since all of the story is shared in dialogue.


Quotes of Note:

"Well, he's gotten so much fatter.
And he has a stomach ache.
Is there some medicine he can take?"

"I'll look at his stomach and see what's in it."

"I see the trouble, right on top.
I'll take it out and fix him up."

Sunday, October 11, 2009

REVIEW: Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile


Waber, B. (1965). Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile. New York: Houghton Mifflin Company.

0395137209

PLOT SUMMARY:  Lyle the Crocodile lives with the Primm family, much to the annoyance of the Primm's neighbors, Mr. Grumps and his cat, Loretta. After the sight of Lyle scares Loretta one too many time, Mrs. Primm decides to take Lyle with her on her errands around New York City. Unfortunately, they end up in the very store Mr. Grumps works in. From there, more troubles arise.

Although Lyle is anthropomorphized in terms of his behavior, animal rights activists occasionally take umbrage with the idea of a crocodile as a domesticated pet. This issue is worth discussion, since children can also consider the advantages and disadvantages of keeping animals in zoos as well.

The book also feels dated through the traditional gender roles Mrs. Primm exhibits and the portrayal of New York city--very 1960s.


Activities:

This classic picturebook is excellent for discussing what to do if a parent and child become separated in a large store or what to do in case of a fire. Another option would be to discuss how to deal with difficult people, such as Mr. Grump. Or how to deal with leaving home, to attend camp, for example.

A teacher could also encourage students to read information books about crocodiles (and have them learn exactly what are the differences between crocodiles and alligators).


Quotes of Note:

"This is the house. The house on East 88th Street. Mr. and Mrs. Primm and their son Joshua live in the house on East 88th Street. So does Lyle. Listen: SWISH, SWASH, SPLASH, SWOOSH! That's Lyle...Lyle the crocodile."

"Whenever his cat caught even the slightest glimpse of Lyle, she would fling herself into a nervous fit."

"Have you by chance come across a crocodile? His name is Lyle."
"Sorry, madam," answered the salesman, "I have not come across any crocodiles named Lyle today."


TASTY RATING:  !!

On an unrelated note, this appears to be about our 300th POST.  So, that's something to celebrate.

Friday, June 12, 2009

REVIEW: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory


Dahl, R.  (1964).  Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.  New York:  Puffin Books.

 

9780142410318

 

This classic has a special place in my heart.  By reading this book, I first learned how to spell chocolate.  True story.

 

Reading it this time around, I was more inclined to eat chocolate while reading.  Also a true story.

 

I was also struck by how economically relevant this story is in the current recession.  Charlie Bucket and his family are poor.  His father loses his job at the toothpaste factory and the entire family is close to starving, that is of course, until Charlie is one of the five children to find a golden ticket in his Wonka candybar and wins a tour of the mysterious candy factory.

 

This classic story is pretty much the original form of Survivor.  In the end, there can be only one!  But along the way, the way various children are sent away from the factory serve as didactic moments.  Of course, these lessons seem mainly geared toward parents:  Don’t spoil children, don’t allow children to watch so much television, discourage gluttony, etc. 

There is however a lesson for kids as well—be good, poor and willing to starve.  Good things will happen.

 

 

Activities to do with the book:

 

Since much of the plot is actually dealing with marketing techniques, a teacher could assign students to research contests sponsored by companies (especially those in the food industry).  They could make posters and do presentations about various contests and discuss which techniques seem effective and why.

 

A brave teacher could also address the treatment of the oompa-loompas and place them in the historical context of a tribe being forced to relocate.  A teacher could discuss colonialism, equality, whether or not it’s acceptable to keep people in a factory as workers and test subjects….

 

An elementary school could organize gym teams according to the various factory guests’ names.  Nothing appeals like the sound of Team Gloop.

 

The book lends itself to creating illustrations or dioramas of how they envision the factory to look.  They could also write more songs in response as well.

 

 

Favorite Quotes:

 

“This is Charlie.

How d’you do?  And how d’you do?  And how d’you do again?  He is pleased to meet you.

The whole of the family—the six grownups (count them) and little Charlie Bucket—live together in a small wooden house on the edge of a great town” (pp. 3-4).

 

“He’s brilliant!” cried Grandpa Joe.  “He’s a magician!  Just imagine what will happen now!  The whole world will be searching for those Golden Tickets!  Everyone will be buying Wonka’s candy bars in the hope of finding one!  He’ll sell more than ever before!  Oh, how exciting it would be to find one” (p. 20).

 

“…however small the chance might be of striking lucky, the chance was there.

The chance had to be there.

This particular candy bar had as much chance as any other of having a Golden Ticket” (p. 28).

 

“So please, oh please, we beg, we pray,

Go throw your TV set away,

And in its place you can install

A lovely bookshelf on the wall.

Then fill the shelves with lots of books,

Ignoring all the dirty looks,

The screams and yells, the bites and kicks,

And children hitting you with sticks—

Fear not, because we promise you

That, in about a week or two

Of having nothing else to do,

They’ll now begin to feel the need

Of having something good to read” (p. 141).

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