THE PERKS OF BEING A WALLFLOWER by Stephen Chbosky

  This book has been on my should I- shouldn't I fence for the longest time. Some of the reviews were scathing and others, positively gushing. Since the bad outweighed the good, I gave it a miss.

But then, the movie came out. And with it came an unassuming Logan Lerman and a sparkling Emma Watson essaying the roles of the main protagonists. And the feedback was stupendously good. So tell me, how could I not read a book that was somehow associated with Hermione Granger and Percy Jackson?
With that dubious logic, I gave the book a shot.

And can I just say....I didn't hate it all.

While it won't go down as one of my favourite reads, I, for lack of a better phrase, "totally get" where the author was coming from.

Charlie was a well-etched hero. I won't call him admirable. But well-etched. While the incessant crying spells and unabashed voyeurism grated on my nerves, I was glad that he wasn't exactly a wimp. I was happy that his immediate family (with all their personal crosses to bear) were so supportive in their individual ways. In his two best friends, he found people who stayed true to him. 
Yes, the book does have dark undertones. And it left me a bit sad by the end of it. 
No, I can't associate with Charlie. But I can empathize with him.

At the end of the day, it is a highly quotable book. As a coming-of-age offering , it has a right blend of self-discovery, juvenile moments and introspective afterthoughts. 

A WALK TO REMEMBER by Nicholas Sparks

I am not a Nicholas Sparks fan. I like my love stories with a little more pizzazz, wit and humour. I want the heroines to be headstrong and dripping with pithy comebacks. I expect the heroes to be unassuming to begin with and memorable by the time I shut the book. And most of all, I want...no, I DEMAND a happy ending.

So, keeping all these requirements in mind, A Walk To Remember is not my cup of tea. And yet, dare I use a dreadful pun? The books had it's occasional *sparks*. It helped that I read the book and watched the movie based on it simultaneously.

In a nutshell, the book is about the quintessential bad boy falling for the Reverend's holier-than-thou daughter. It's about cheeky Landon Carter losing his heart to the angelic Jamie Sullivan. It's about one glorious summer in the lives of two teenagers and their journey to a heart-breaking end.

Shane West plays Landon Carter in the movie. With the angular thrust of his eyebrows and his devilish smile, Shane West was better than the paperback Landon. Mandy Moore plays the parish's golden girl, Jamie Sullivan. Let's just say that paperback Jamie was better than the celluloid one.

Amalgamating the two sources, I give you my favourite moments:

Spark #1: This may seem like a very pompous thing for Jamie to say, but taken into context with what her future holds....it's poignant.

 Spark #2: There's something endearing about the way Shane West nuzzles Mandy Moore's shoulder. It was symbolic of how hormones were not the governing factor in their relationship. And it helps that it was Shane West doing the shoulder-nuzzle.
 

 Spark #3: The last line wasn't in the book. But it was a perfect addition. Bible carrying Jamie Sullivan was the girl brimming with faith in God's plan. Falling in love with Landon throws a curve ball that makes Jamie vulnerable.

Spark #4: A version of Jamie's favourite passage from Corinthians that she would have liked to be read out at her wedding. And which does get read at her wedding. It was also, pretty much, the essence of Jamie Sullivan.

Spark #5: This line sounds super-cheesy but considering the fact that Reverend Hegbert spent a good part of the book disapproving of Landon Carter and his heathen ways, it was pretty special for Landon to hear this at the end of the story.

So yes, the book is not for those who want a fast-paced read. It's not for those who don't want their religion thrust in their faces. And give it a miss if you don't fancy bittersweet endings.

But, if you want a change of pace; if you want to imagine an entirely likeable Shane West as the appropriately cast Landon Carter falling fathoms deep in love; if you want to just savour a different facet of love....then this book (and movie) is the one for you.

The Family from One End Street (Eve Garnett)

Imagine if you will,
~ bird-chirping weather.
~ the fragrance of warm, sun dried cotton clothes.
~ lying on a beach with your talkative family and wriggling your toes in the sand as you snarfed down sandwiches and slabs of fruit cake.
~ the nervous excitement of visiting your first ever unsupervised birthday party and then returning home with that pleasant tiredness.
~ your utter awe of the darkened movie theatre and the smell of popcorn tantalising your senses.
~ the small thrill of curling up in bed with an old, dog-eared book.
~ facing mum’s wrath when you came home with scabby knees, unravelling pigtails and a huge grin on your face.


Now tie all that up and what you have is a childhood that didn’t have much technology but what it did have was a tremendous capacity to create happy memories.


The Family from One End Street is one such tale.

Meet The Ruggles family that lives at No.1 One End Street in the fictional town of Otwell. Jo Ruggles is the local dustman and his wife Rosie is the local washerwoman. Jo and Rosie’s singular source of pride is their large brood of seven children. Yep, you read it right. Seven children. And each of these seven children has a distinctive personality and the promising ability to get into all kinds of mischief and mayhem. The Ruggles family is always low on funds but never on dignity. The Senior Ruggles rule their little clan with a blend of old-fashioned discipline, gentle cajolement and a gruff optimism.

The book is in episodic form with the total absence of an continuing plotline. Each chapter is devoted to the dreams, dramas and escapades of each the Ruggle children. And sometimes, even their long-suffering parents. The beauty of their mini-stories lies in the joy that they manage to eke out of their meagre means. Luckily, the author’s narration never has a patronizing accent. You don’t have weeping sagas about the travails of tight purses. What you have is an honest portrayal of playtime in ‘hand-me-down-clothes’.

We have all loved us some Famous Five. Whether it were boat-trips to family islands or bicycle trips to farmhouses run by rosy-cheeked farmwives or the endless summer trips that were remembered for the glorious picnic baskets; we loved them all.

But what about the (slightly) shabbily shod children who leaned over the fence and watched the FIVE ride along in their quaint caravans? What did those kids do to enjoy summer in all it’s sweltering glory?
Eve Garnett gives us a glimpse into the possible lives of such kids, albeit in an urban setting.

The book is a winner and was regarded as a groundbreaker back in the days when most children’s books were rooted in middle class sensibilities. If you need further urging....the book was nominated along with The Hobbit for the Carnegie Medal for Best Children’s Book and WON. Yep, it left our beloved Bilbo Baggins behind. So do read the book. You won't be disappointed.

It is sweet, honest and redolent with the whiff of a childhood that was devoid of apps.
RATING : 5/5

Little Women

"Dear little bird! See Jo, how tame it is. I like peeps better than the gulls: they are not so wild and handsome, but they seem happy, confiding little things. I used to call them my birds last summer, and Mother said they reminded her of me – busy, quaker-coloured creatures, always near the shore, and always chirping that contented little song of theirs. You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone. Meg is the turtledove, and Amy is like the lark she writes about, trying to get up among the clouds, but always dropping down into it’s nest again".

With these whimsical comparisons, the shy Beth captured the individual essences of each and every March sister.

Little Women, set at the turn of the Civil War; explored the lives, loves, quirks, joys, disappointments, shadows and triumphs of the March family. Uncomplicated fare that continues to enchant it’s readers even today.

For me, this classic tale has always been about Josephine (Jo) March.

Right from Page 1 onwards till the ambiguous end, I remain a member of the *Jo Fan Club*. She was blunt, honest and a no-frills-raggedy-cat to boot. At a time when social graces were the order of the day, Jo clomped through her genteel surroundings with all the grace of the proverbial bull in a china shop. She loved her family fiercely and no sacrifice was too great or too small where it was concerned. She pursued her writing career with all the highs-and-lows that plague fledgling authors.

When I was younger, I had read only the first section. So when I heard that Jo had turned down the loyal and cheeky Laurie, I was a tad disappointed. Now, as the years have passed and I have read both sections in their entirety, I am content with this decision. Laurie's lovable, carefree boy of Part 1 dissolved into a sulky, wilful young man in Part 2. And Prof.Bhaer (for all his poverty, seniority, shabbiness of appearance and at times, regressive outlook) was a true hero. As Jo aptly puts it, “ Mother would admire him for his warm heart, Father his wise head. I admire both, and feel rich in my new friend, Friedrich Bhaer.” Once more, our mighty heroine makes the right choice and gives us further cause to bolster her position on her pedestal.

Every female mind with literary leanings and a tomboyish demeanour will associate with Jo. We see our failings mirrored in her. We see a glimpse of our backbones in her strident ravings. We wish to write the next Great Novel. We claim to not fall prey to the failings of romance and yet, are pleasantly surprised and befuddled when that ‘one great love’ breaks all our misconceptions. Loving the home-nest, aching to fly from it and fiercely protecting it’s thistlelike comforts from condescending outsiders....we all, at some time, totally and absolutely “GET JO”.

At the end of the day, the tale of the March sisters is a cozy read with a hint of defiance. The holiday season is the perfect time to dig out this little gem, sink into a cushy sofa and lose yourself in a world that was simplistic and yet light-years ahead with it’s stab at realism.

The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe (Chronicles of Narnia, #2)

Whenever I visit my lovely (albeit a tad lonely) ancestral home, I instantly associate with Peter, Susan, Edmund and Lucy. I have the mysterious house with a few empty rooms...the boredom of being stuck-in that makes me rattle around like a disgruntled pea-in-a-pod......and......I even have an unused wardrobe. Sadly, to my abject disappointment, the wardrobe doesn’t open into Narnia or even a respectable secret passageway. (I checked). But since reading The Narnia Chronicles and having to make regular visits to my hometown; I more often than not always carry along my copy of ‘The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe’.

There’s something truly delightful of hiding in a fur coat laden wardrobe and coming out into a parallel world replete with a winter wonderland, a nasty Snow-Queen, troubled mythical creatures, and the truly splendid character of ASLAN.

ASLAN

C.S.Lewis gave a very apt description in his introduction of Aslan. It goes thus:

The Beaver said, “They say Aslan is on the move – perhaps has already landed”

And now a very curious thing happened. None of the children knew who Aslan was any more than you do; but the moment the Beaver had spoken these words everyone felt quite different. Perhaps it has sometimes happened to you in a dream that someone says something that you don’t understand but in the dream it feels as if it has some enormous meaning ¬– either a terrifying one that turns the whole dream into a nightmare or else a lovely meaning too lovely to put into words, which makes the dream so beautiful that you remember it all your life and are always wishing you could get into that dream again. It was like that now. At the name of Aslan each child felt something jump in it’s inside. Edmund felt a sense of mysterious horror. Peter felt suddenly brave and adventurous. Susan felt as if some delicious smell or some delicious strain of music had just floated by her. And Lucy got the feeling you have when you wake up in the morning and realize that it is the beginning of the holidays or the beginning of summer.

This has always been my favourite passage. It’s sheer simplicity and accuracy pens the exact emotions which we have all experienced at the onset of something life-changing (nice/nasty, depending upon our perspectives and personal demons) .Aslan is a memorable character and the tale, according to me, the best of the Narnia Chronicles. It’s believable, doesn’t drag or preach unnecessarily and is a delightful treat for fantasy-lovers like me.

I usually tend to read the book first and follow it up with the movie viewing. I love both versions and ‘The Battle Tune of Narnia’ is on my perpetual Playlist. It’s almost my own personal ‘defeat-your-demons’ tune.

The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe is the Grand Poobah of fantasy reads (Lord of The Rings, notwithstanding) and I would strongly recommend it for all wide-eyed children with a longing for magic to drive away the monotony of everyday life. If I could, I would also insist on scornful adults to capture a bit of their young wonderment and escape into The Land of Narnia.

C.S.Lewis in his dedication to his goddaughter, aptly summed it up:

“Some day you will be old enough to start reading fairy-tales again”

The Hobbit

"

“It does not do to leave a live dragon out of your calculations, if you live near him…”

…AND it does not do to leave The Hobbit out of your list of fantasy must-reads.

Bilbo Baggins is a typical comfort-loving hobbit. Happily settled in the pastoral land of The Shire, life is a relaxed cycle of smoking tobacco, guzzling ale, attending parties and having innumerable (and delicious) meals all day long. But Bilbo also has Took blood running through his veins. The Took family members were famous for disappearing on mysterious adventures. Bilbo however, is content to suppress the thrill-seeking side of his nature and curl up happily in his Hobbit-Hole.

But then the powerful wizard, Gandalf (making his first stalwart appearance) asks…infact…informs Bilbo that he needs the hobbit for an adventure. Bilbo promptly declines but soon finds a motley crew of dwarves descending upon his home. Gandalf and the dwarves are headed east, n a perilous mission to the Lonely Mountain. They intend to recover their ancestors’ treasure from the clutches of a fiendish dragon called Smaug. Initial reluctance gives way to the thirst for adventure and thus begins a quest that transforms a cushy, quivering jellyfish of a hobbit into a legendary hero.

———————————————————————————————————————-

The Hobbit is a delightful prelude to the magnum opus - The Lord of The Rings. It introduces us to the house-proud Bilbo Baggins who gets dragged along on a magnificent adventure fraught with danger, deceit, wit, bravery, unlikely enemies, friendly foes and mythical creatures galore. J.R.R.Tolkien’s language is rich and deliciously ancient. He makes you feel like snuggling up for buttery scones and a pot of tea at Bilbo’s hobbit hole…and then…..just as easily makes a shiver go down your spine as you venture into the unknown and perilous dangers of Mirkwood.

All of us have the spirit of adventure lurking within us. While some leap in with both feet, others hem and haw and dawdle incessantly. Bilbo belongs to the latter group. But when good ol’Gandalf pushes the wary hobbit into action, he rises admirably to the task. The book is a winner all the way. From odd named creatures to near-fatal encounters to dastardly villains to enticing obstacles, The Hobbit keeps you hooked.

Little Women

‘Dear little bird! See, Jo how tame it is. I like peeps better than the gulls: they are not so wild and handsome, but they seem happy, confiding little things. I used to call them my birds last summer, and Mother said they reminded her of me – busy, quaker-coloured creatures, always near the shore, and always chirping that contented little song of theirs. You are the gull, Jo, strong and wild, fond of the storm and the wind, flying far out to sea, and happy all alone. Meg is the turtledove, and Amy is like the lark she writes about, trying to get up among the clouds, but always dropping down into it’s nest again’………

………and with those whimsical comparisons, the shy Beth nailed the four March sisters to the tee. Little Women, set at the turn of the Civil War explored the lives...the loves...the quirks... the disappointments...the shadows and the triumphs of the March family and continues to enchant even today.

Every female mind with a literal leaning will associate with Jo. We see our failings mirrored in her, hope for a glimpse of our backbone in her strident ravings and happily proclaim to all who will listen that yep…"I am a JO". I am no different. Right from page 1 till the wee end, I remained a member of the 'Jo Fan-Club'. She was blunt, honest as the day is long AND a no frills, raggedy-cat to boot. At a time when social graces were the order of the day, Jo clomped through her genteel surroundings with all the grace of the proverbial bull-in-a-china shop. She loved her family fiercely and no sacrifice was too great or small where they were concerned. She pursued her writing-career with all the highs-and-lows that plague every fledgling author.

When I was younger, I had read only the first section. So when I heard that Jo had turned down the loyal and cheeky Laurie, I was a tad disappointed. Now, as the years have passed and I have read both sections in their entirety, I am content with the decision. Laurie's lovable, carefree boy of Part 1 dissolved into a sulky, wilful young man in Part 2. And Prof.Bhaer, for all his poverty and seniority and shabbiness of appearance was a true hero. As Jo aptly puts it: Mother would admire him for his warm heart, Father his wise head. I admire both, and feel rich in my new “friend Friedrich Bhaer”. Once more, our mighty heroine makes the right choice and gives us further cause to bolster her on her pedestal.

Little Women for me, will always be about Jo. Kudos to Louisa May Alcott for recreating herself, adding a few charming bits and creating a character who stays fresh even today.

...listening to The Beatles today

The wit of Capt. Benjamin Franklin "Hawkeye" Pierce

• Korea's pretty much the same story: the fighting goes on, the hatred, the violence, the senseless brutality, men behaving like animals - and then there's the war.
• Don't worry, I've never lost a patient. I never lose anything. Have you seen my stethoscope?
• Let's shoot him and put him out of our misery
• Frank was once the innocent victim of possession. Through some tragic error they exorcized the nice guy and left that.
• I will not carry a gun, Frank. When I got thrown into this war I had a clear understanding with the Pentagon: no guns. I'll carry your books, I'll carry a torch, I'll carry a tune, I'll carry on, carry over, carry forward, Cary Grant, cash and carry, carry me back to Old Virginia, I'll even 'hari-kari' if you show me how, but I will not carry a gun!
• You know what they say Charles, time wounds all heals.
• Look, I realize I'm dressed to kill, but don't take it literally.
  

G*R*E*A*S*E

...watched GREASE (for the zillionth time) with my ladies. Danny Zucko still has the best moves this side of pelvic-town...Sandra Dee's petal-fresh act is still in place...and Rizzo still makes you ache with her hard-as-nails act. Love the movie...worship the soundtrack...and all I have to say is...shoobap sha wadda wadda yippity boom de boom!!!

Charlotte's Web

A couple in the opposite building had acquired two goats. I saw them grow from spindly-legged kids to sprightly, handsome fellas. Was admiring them one day, when a friend remarked that they were probably being fed so heartily as they would most definitely end up on the dinner table someday!

Oh yes, Charlotte’s Web was déjà-vu for me.

So we have an unassuming pig named Wilbur. His previous owner, Fern still comes to visit him at his new barn…he gets three full meals…is surrounded by an odd but cheery menagerie and has a new best-friend in the form of Charlotte the spider. *Pig-Heaven*

But there’s trouble in paradise. One of the ol’sheep lets slip that Wilbur is going to end up as Christmas Dinner. Now Wilbur is a young and unworldly pig…so he squeals and he whimpers and he whines. But Charlotte will NOT be a guest at the pity-party. She puts her crafty mind to work and comes up with an ingenious plan.

With an artful bit of spinning, she weaves words (*Some Pig*, *Terrific*, *Humble*) into her web eulogizing her friend. Her idea is that if she builds up the pig’s cred, he might just stand a chance of becoming famous and avoiding an early, sticky end.

Will the plan work and save Wilbur from a fate worse than pot-roast? Read and soak in the magic of E.B.White. Essentially a children’s book, Charlotte's Web has enough nuances to keep you hooked as an adult too. The rustic descriptions of farm-life….the passing of the seasons, so closely mirrored by the changing emotions of the animals…the dry wit and the homilies woven in effortlessly….all add up to a soothing classic.

Special mention for Garth William’s artwork….beautiful and awash in a soft palette (by Rosemary Wells).This book is a fat l'il treasure and makes you wish you were a dreamy, uncomplicated child again.

Here’s hoping my star-crossed goats have as happy a life as ol’Wilbur.

The Secret Garden

“I am Mary Lennox. I fell asleep when everyone had cholera, and I just woke up.”

Not a very cheery start, is it? And so a sour-faced, sullen orphan Mary is whisked away from her birthplace India to stay with her guardian, Mr.Archibald Craven at Misselthwaite Manor in Yorkshire.

The manor is a sprawling place surrounded by gardens and desolate moors. Mr.Craven is a reclusive widow and often travels abroad leaving Mary in the care of his unbending housekeeper,Mrs.Medlock and a cheery l’il chambermaid,Martha. In an attempt to pep up the sickly child, Martha regales Mary with stories of her younger brother Dickon. Dickon is a true child of nature...he can talk to animals, spend hours alone on the moors and make anything, absolutely anything grow. Almost a nature-sprite.

Martha also tells Mary about a Secret Garden in the grounds which has been kept locked for the past ten years. No one knows where the key is and even if they did, it would be useless.....since Mr.Craven has forbidden anyone to enter the garden.

By a sheer stroke of luck (or is it thanks to a red-breasted robin?), the now steadily improving Mary discovers the lost key and promptly enters the long-shut garden. Despite the air of seeming lifelessness, Mary sees that there is hope for renewal. With the help of her newly-made friend Dickon, she is soon spending happy-hours digging and planting and growing happier and healthier in the garden.

In the midst of all these developments, she is still disturbed by a mysterious crying she often hears in the manor. She soon finds out that it is Mr.Craven’s crippled son, Colin. The frail child stays in bed, is never visited by his dad, throws tantrums and is convinced that he is going to drop-dead soon! Used to bossing over the household, he meets his match in an equally pugnacious Mary. She snaps him out of his melancholy, befriends him and lets him in on the secret of the garden. As time passes; Mary, Dickon and Colin have some good sprightly fun doing honest labour and watching the garden come alive.

I read ‘THE SECRET GARDEN’ in the Classic Starts version. Simple, abridged…a fresh way to introduce the classics to kids (and useless adults like me). Adding to the charm were the brilliantly shadowed pencil-drawings by Lucy Corvino. It was a charming, light read. You empathize with Mary’s lonliness...get a little impatient with Colin’s moping...and wish that you were exactly like Dickon.

Charlie and The Chocolate Factory

Recommended for people who:
a) love chocolate like a first-born
b) are prone to flights-of-fancy
c) will root for the underdog and hope that nasty, ill-mannered gits will meet a sticky end.

Charlie Bucket and his family are poor. And honest. And likeable. And in the time-honoured tradition of poor/honest/likeable kids, Charlie will go through the usual pangs of hunger, desperation and out-of-reach cravings before he finally hits pay dirt (read, chocolate)

There is also a candymaker, Mr.Willy Wonka : eccentric genius with a touch of madness and a smidgen of childish glee. He owns the greatest chocolate factory in the world. But fear of rivals and spies had made Wonka keep the factory away from public-eye. Work continued, but not a single employee was seen entering or leaving the place.

Then one fine day, Wonka holds a contest in which five Golden Tickets are hidden under the wrappers of his candy bars. Whoever finds them will win: a daylong tour of the factory and a lifetime’s supply of Wonka treats.

After many nearly-there moments, Charlie turns out to be the fifth lucky winner. And thus begins the madcap tour. Along the way, the other four, truly horrible children get their just desserts (excuse the pun). Charlie…good, well-mannered Charlie gets a truly delightful prize at the end of the day.

I wouldn’t say I loved the book…more like, I was rooting for Charlie. The poor chappie had a truly sad start…what with hunger pangs and squalid living conditions and getting a chocolate bar once a year and living in a town where the greatest chocolate factory exists (that was jus’cruel!).

As a sweet-addict, I did slaver over the delicious descriptions that could be found after every ten pages or so. My favourite passage was:

'Mr Willy Wonka can make marshmallows that taste of violets, and rich
caramels that change colour every ten seconds as you suck them, and little
feathery sweets that melt away deliciously the moment you put them between your
lips. He can make chewing-gum that never loses its taste, and sugar balloons
that you can blow up to enormous sizes before you pop them with a pin and gobble
them up. And, by a most secret method, he can make lovely blue birds' eggs with
black spots on them, and when you put one of these in your mouth, it gradually
gets smaller and smaller until suddenly there is nothing left except a tiny
little pink sugary baby bird sitting on the tip of your tongue’

*eyes closed and look of pure ecstasy*

The Witches

In bizarro-Dahl world, witches break all the stereotypes that fairy-tales have led us to believe. No pointy-hats, no black –cloaks, no broom-sticks...nuh-uh!
Here’s how you actually recognize them:
# 1: They always wear gloves…always. Why? To hide their thin curvy claws.
#2: They are bald. So be prepared for hideous, scratchy wigs.
#3: Their nostrils (or nose-holes as Dahl delicately puts it) are larger than those of normal people.
#4: The pupils of a witch’s eyes constantly change colour.
#5: They don’t have toes.
#6: Their spit is blue. So watch out for ink-blue phlegm.

Yep, who knew? And here’s something to up the chill-down-your-spine factor: They can be anybody...ANYBODY...ordinary, well-dressed ladies holding ordinary, humdrum jobs. And they loathe children...am talking big-time, turning-them-into-rodents loathe!!!

Now say hello to our protagonist : a wide-eyed, orphaned boy who lives with his adored grandmother. Gran is a plump, feisty old lady who smokes black cigars and warns her grandson about the twisted ways of The Witches. As luck would have it, the l’il boy has a run-in with an entire convention of the nasty lot. Some significant chaos and hi-jinx later, he is promptly converted into a mouse by the Grand High Witch herself.

Yep, things definitely look ugly.

Will the newest entrant into rodent-land survive? Will the witches succeed in their plan to wipe England clean of all snotty-nosed children? And what role does our mighty gran play in the proceedings?

A fun book...a twisted book...an ironical book.....a book that comes second only to Matilda in originality and hideously scary villains (Miss.Trunchball and The Grand High Witch might have belonged to the same family tree). People dissect the book and claim that it’s too scary for young readers. I say, the small-people aren’t fazed so easily. Plant the book in their eager lil hands and watch them devour it.

Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator

Oh my Sainted Pants!....Oh my Painted Ants! :)

I think the following poem, rendered by the formidable Miss.Tibbs in honour of the President deserves special mention. Dahl's comic timing and astuteness were best seen in his whacky poems. So here goes:

The Nurse's Song

This mighty man of whom I sing,
The greatest of them all,
Was once a teeny little thing,
Just eighteen inches tall.

I knew him as a tiny tot,
I nursed him on my knee.
I used to sit him on the pot
And wait for him to wee.

I always washed between his toes,
And cut his little nails.
I brushed his hair and wiped his nose
And weighed him on the scales.

Through happy childhood days he strayed,
As all nice children should.
I smacked him when he disobeyed,
And stopped when he was good.

It soon began to dawn on me
He wasn't very bright,
Because when he was twenty-three
He couldn't read or write.

"What shall we do?" his parents sob.
"The boy has got the vapours!
He couldn't even get a job
Delivering the papers!"

"Ah-ha," I said, "this little clot
Could be a politician."
"Nanny," he cried, "Oh Nanny, what
A super proposition!"

"Okay," I said, "let's learn and note
The art of politics.
Let's teach you how to miss the boat
And how to drop some bricks,
And how to win the people's vote
And lots of other tricks.

Let's learn to make a speech a day
Upon the T.V. screen,
In which you never never say
Exactly what you mean.

And most important,
by the way,
In not to let your teeth decay,
And keep your fingers clean.

And now that I am eighty-nine,
It's too late to repent.
The fault was mine the little swine
Became the President.

James and The Giant Peach

Mr.Dahl strikes again. ‘James and The Giant Peach’ begs to be read aloud...aloud to an open-mouthed, hanging-on-to-your-every-word, filled-with-awe pre-teen audience.

There’s an ill-treated orphan called James Henry Trotter who’s blighted by a pair of wicked aunts: Aunt Spiker and Aunt Sponge. There’s a musically-inclined grasshopper, an over-assertive centipede, a gloomy earthworm, a pro-active spider, a genteel ladybird, a timid glowworm and a silkworm who…well…sleeps. (Please excuse the over-use of adjectives. Dahl’s writing does that to you!) And then, there’s a giant peach.

Add to that Roald Dahl’s imagery, satire and nonsensical poems. What you have is a child’s *Happy Place*. Dahl had written this book when his baby son Theo had a terrible accident. Escaping into a fantasy-land for a few hours each day helped him through the crisis. And the grand storyteller does the same for all of us. The world he creates is fantastical and improbable. And in it’s improbability, you find a much-needed escape from the daily woes.

Matilda

Roald Dahl is the grand-daddy of children’s fiction. And weirdly enough, I hadn’t read a single one of his books. Eventually, good sense prevailed and lo!......there’s Matilda.

Matilda is a child-prodigy. Barely five-years old, she is wise and articulate. She is blessed with a thirst for reading and is also cursed with the vilest excuses for parents. They are self-absorbed, mindless twits who could have crushed the will of a lesser child. But for Matilda, exacting revenge on the Wormwoods (aptly named) is literally child’s play.

School however is a whole new-ball game. Enter Miss.Trunchball (gnnnnnh!!!). Humoungous, horrifying to behold……she cusses like crazy …snorts and snarls like an enraged rhino and has all the students & teachers alike, crapping in their pants. There’s also the ethereal Miss.Honey, Matilda’s class teacher. Kind to a fault and poorer than a church-mouse, she hopes to develop Matilda’s astounding talent. But Miss.Honey has a secret…a sad, tragic past…a past which Matilda can rectify; thanks to her brains and a newly discovered power.

Dahl’s writing style is addictive…it is dark, humourous and non-condescending towards children. No helpless billy-goats here. Matilda may be a wee lil thing…but she displays a maturity and soundness of thought that would put most adults to shame.

Yep, loved the book. Definitely heading out for The BFG now.

My Family and Other Animals

~a wine…like the blood of a dragon and as smooth as a fish

~Albatrosses flapping around the house making noises like defective plumbling

~A giant watermelon with an inside like pink ice

~chaffinches were pinking like a hundred tiny coins among the leaves

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No one makes sigh-inducing comparisons quite like Gerald Durell. Rich and varied…these and many more generously pepper the pages of My Family and Other Animals.

Gerry has been blessed with a truly eccentric family : a long-suffering mother, a pompous elder-brother Larrie (who later becomes the eminent Lawrence Durrell), a gun-crazy brother Leslie, an acne-inflicted sister Margo…and bringing up the rearguard; a budding naturalist,Gerry himself. The story is a rambling, autobiographical account of the family’s five year stay in the picturesque Greek island of Corfu, told from a 10-year old Gerry’s point of view.

As the family hops from one villa to another…we are treated to an oddball mixture of rustic pheasants, quirky instructors and garrulous guests. And then ofcourse, there is the over-abundance of animal life…many of whom find their way into the Durrell household as Gerry’s pets. So we have: the two pups, prodigiously named; Puke andWiddle…Quasimodo, the pigeon (who discovers to his embarrassment that he is infact a ‘she’ )...Madame Cyclops, the one-eyed, pregnant turtle…the wicked pair of magpies known simply as The Magenpies…and the sardonic seagull, Alecko. Many more whacky and weird creatures make an appearance and all are described in loving-detail by the wide-eyed Gerry.

The book is tailormade for plant and animal lovers. Each page is a tribute to the beauty of Corfu and it’s innumerable treasures. You can almost savour the warm sun on your back and the frothy waves tickling your toes. You wish you had a fat bottomed boat called ‘ The Bootle-Bumtrinket’, which would sail along merrily as you tried not to turn an unbecoming shade of green with all the rocking and rolling! You can feel the restful shade of the gnarly olive-trees, the tartness of the small grapes and the headiness of a hearty-wine. Weaved in with the antics of the Durrell menagerie, the story makes you smile and even have a hearty laugh occasionally.

Bless you, Mr.Durrell, for creating such a marvellous and memorable gem.

The Odyssey Retold by Geraldine McCaughren

A simplified, easy-on-the-senses retelling of the literary classic. The original is tucked away somewhere at the back of my book-shelf. It had me quaking in my boots.This, I get....and enjoy.

My interest was actually piqued by the Percy Jackson series by Rick Riordan. Constant references to Odysseus's epic trip had me curious about the original.

Odysseus, the brave (although, slightly pompous) warrior is sailing back home after the epic battle of Troy. A lovely wife,Penelope and Telemachus, a son he hasn't seen in eleven years await him in his kingdom of Ithaca.

As he sets sail with his fleet of ships, he encounters mythical creatures, love-struck nymphs, grumpy cyclopses, the odd cannibal or two and a couple of other seriously depraved characters. Adding to his woes are the fury of the sea-god Poseidon.....a crew which doubts their captain....and a route that seems to have been put together by a sadistic travel-agent.

The end of the journey throws another nasty surprise : unruly suitors for the hand of Penelope and the riches of Ithaca.I tell you....a Greek Hero's work is never done!!

In all, an engaging read....lots of mayhem, chaos, and what-have-you.

The Star of Kazan

Eva Ibbotson weaves an old-fashioned adventure around a young foundling called Annika. Abandoned in a church on the slopes of Mt. Dorfelspitze, the baby is adopted by a pair of friends: Ellie, the cook and Sigrid, the housemaid. They take her back to their owners’ house in Vienna. Annika is a happy, industrious child…..learning to cook Viennese delicacies from Ellie, keeping the house sparkling clean and doing a multitude of odd jobs for the eccentric professors who are the owners of the house. Her spare time is spent enacting mock-plays with her friends Pauline and Stephan. She also manages to pay frequent visits to a dying old lady who was formerly known as the wonderful actress ‘La Rondine’.

She only has one wish…that her birth mother sweeps in one day and says: ‘Where is she? Where is my long lost daughter?’. And here the adage of “Be careful what you wish for, it just may come true” comes into full play. Very soon, an aristocratic lady named Edeltraut von Tannenberg comes to claim Annika and swoop her off to a cold and desolate castle in Germany.

Fitting into a new scenario is always tough, but for Annika who has been used to a warm and friendly Vienna, her new home throws up many nasty surprises. Unfriendly relatives…lies and secrets…dreary food...dank climate...things are not as Annika imagined her new life to be.

The only bright speck is the new friend she makes called Zed, a Romany stable boy. But as the mystery shrouding her new family deepens...Zed is accused of robbery…robbery of a trunk which was left to Annika by ‘La Rondine’. Annika is torn between her faith in Zed and her loyalty to her surprisingly cold mother. In Vienna her old family is missing Annika terribly and also come across some unpalatable facts …which could put Annika’s life in grave danger.

A simple story…a predictable mystery and a plot oft-repeated. But what makes ‘Star of Kazan’ so engrossing is the absolute love and affection with which Eva Ibbotson describes the splendour and grandiose of a vintage Vienna..... The ancient but much-loved Emperor Franz Joseph with his ‘mutton-chop whiskers and bald head’. The extravagant waltzes streaming out of the cafes. The decadent opera houses. The sinfully rich confectionaries bursting with aroma and taste. And of course the pride of Vienna : The dancing Lipizzaner Stallions. You are soon transported to a magical city that seems to hum with colour, light and vitality. This is a book to be savoured...and enjoyed at a leisurely pace. Eva Ibbotson triumphs yet again !