Lists

Picture of a book: The Borrowers
Picture of a book: The Swiss Family Robinson
Picture of a book: Stuart Little
Picture of a book: A Bear Called Paddington
Picture of a book: Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH
Picture of a book: The Trumpet of the Swan
Picture of a book: The Jungle Book
Picture of a book: The Railway Children
Picture of a book: A Little Princess

9 Books

Indulging my mind

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Picture of a book: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory
books

Charlie and the Chocolate Factory

Roald Dahl
Tonight I just finished reading Charlie and the Chocolate factory with my son. This is the first chapter book I've read all the way through with him. And it was a ton of fun. First off, I'll admit that I love the movie. I grew up with it. (I'm talking about the Gene Wilder version, of course.)I'll even admit to liking the movie better than the book. Which is something that doesn't happen very often with me. That said, the book is really, really good. It held my four-year old's attention. It's silly, and it's fun. And it's DARK. For those of you who haven't read the book, let me underline this fact for you. Dahl takes pains to really detail the fact that Charlie and his family aren't just hungry and poor. They're destitute. Charlie sleeps on a mattress on the floor. In the winter they are cold, and they're starving to death. And if you think I'm exaggerating on that last point, I'm not. One of the chapters is titled: The Family Begins to Starve. But you know what? I like this book better because of that. It's not sanitized pablum written by committee to be inoffensive. It's the story of a little boy who is in a fucking awful situation, but he is still good and kind and polite and then something really nice happens to him. That's a trope I can get behind. Its it a good book to read with your kids? Absolutely. That said, allow me to tangent off and share my thoughts as a total bastard:If Willie Wonka actually hired workers and paid them a living wage, maybe Charlie Bucket wouldn't be starving to death in the first place. Follow me here. Wonka is effectively running a company where everyone is paid in scrip. The Oompa Loompas are paid, quite literally, in beans. Beans that I'm guessing he has the Oompa Loompas themselves growing in some huge underground cavern. Let's not even get into the ethical tarpit of the fact that Wonka uproots an entire indigenous culture and enslaves them. Let's just look at this from a raw numbers point of view. Pure economics. The Oompa Loompas work in the factory. They are not paid. They never leave the factory. That means they don't pay rent. They don't buy groceries. They don't go to the movies, or take taxis ,or buy clothes. But *everyone* buys Wonka's chocolate. That means that money goes into the factory, but it doesn't come back out into the town. As a result, the local economy is crap. And it's because of this that Charlie's dad can't get a decent job. What's more, it's because of this that his dad *loses* his shitty job, and his family is starving to death. Willie Wonka isn't a childlike magic maker. He's a billionaire corporate fuckwit. He's the candy equivalent of Monsanto. There's no government oversight there. Osha would never have approved that bullshit boiled sweet boat and chocolate river. No. Dude is untouchable. And don't tell me he isn't. That shit that goes on with the other kids? Nobody even *thinks* of suing him. None of the parents even *hint* at it. He probably owns half the judges in the state, and a handful of senators, too. He's a fucking supervillian. And I would paid serious money to see a story where Batman kicks his ass. *End Rant* In closing, let me share something that Oot said while I was reading him this book: "Dad, Willie Wonka is just a regular human, but he *is* a little bit of a wizard like you."
Picture of a book: Sideways Stories from Wayside School
books

Sideways Stories from Wayside School

Louis Sachar
If you want to see exactly what rests at the center of someone’s soul, don’t bother reading a 200-page biography on them; ask them what was the first book ever to make an impression on them that lasted into their adulthood. For some it might be some garbage about a brat named Ramona and her ginger-kid friends, and these people embrace a passion for whimsy and camaraderie. Others have a deep-rooted sense of ‘self’ from cherishing the trails and tribulations of some chick named Margaret menstruating and masturbating. Those who would grow up to be truly unexceptional enjoyed those 10-page “Mr. Man” books (mr happy, mr bump, mr greedy) which always delivered some pointless life lesson about sharing, caring, or other similar nonsense. And then there are those who were destined to be influenced by the outrageous, ridiculous, and sublime, and their rallying point is the fantastic cast of Wayside School. I’m sure each character has their own loyal following of obedient acolytes who have championed their cause and tried emulating their idol throughout their life; most would probably be fond of Todd, the luckless but genuinely lovable rapscallion who is dismissed from class for his antics every day, the art-f@g crowd related to Bebe Gunn, the dreamers prefer Sharie , the ambitious geeks decry the greatness of Myron, the optimists swear DJ had the right attitude while the misanthropes defer to Kathy’s wisdom, and the goofballs and flucktards of the world were torn between Stephen and Jenny. The people supporting anyone else are usually living in their parents’ basement currently and getting geeked on paint thinner or spending their time volunteering for charitable causes or running for public office. But there is the unsung hero that none can forget, easily the linchpin of the story and the single most inspiring, enigmatic, and culturally relevant character ever introduced in ANY book; Sammy. That’s right, Sammy; the grimy, filthy, stinking, and baffling dead rat that tries infiltrating Mrs. Jewls class while posing as a student and wearing multiple raincoats that reek of decay and alley-trash. He trash talks the entire class, he befouls their atmosphere with his pungent stench, and threatens to bite the teachers head off for discarding his ‘good clothes’ as she throws raincoat after raincoat out the window. Sammy stands proud in the midst of his admonishment, laughing at those who think he might actually give a damn about their concerns or opinions, and is ultimately banished to the basement to live with the other dead rats; presumably where they hatch their nefarious plans to somehow attend class. Are they doing it just to cause a commotion? Are the legitimately interested in garnering some education? Could this be their own rite of passage in their social circles? Sammy’s puzzling nature keeps us guessing, pondering these questions without conclusion. Compared to the iconic students attending Wayside, the kids at Hogwarts don’t compare, Ramona and her ilk look flimsy and pathetic, and the Choose Your Own Adventure books seem predictable and without shock compared to the zany irreverence displayed in these Sideways Stories.
Picture of a book: The Adventures of Tom Sawyer
books

The Adventures of Tom Sawyer

Mark Twain
I was five and a half years old when my mother gave me The Adventures of Tom Sawyer as a New Year's gift (she is a literature teacher, and I have been reading novels since the tender age of four or so, and so it seemed appropriate).Being a diligent and serious¹ child (neither of those qualities have stuck with me, unfortunately), I opened it to page 1 and started reading. I even took it with me to kindergarten, where other kids were learning letters and I was mercifully allowed to read hefty tomes, having obviously achieved full literacy by that point.¹ \ Me (age 5) and Mom. The diligent seriousness is *all over* this picture. This book initially left me quite confused, but I was undeterred - after all, the world was a confusing place, full of adults and rules and great books - even those without pictures. (And I was very proud to own books without pictures, after all). But his one was just too strange - its beginning did not quite fit with the rest of the quite fun story - it was odd and dry and incomprehensible for the first 40 pages or so, and it even was about some other guy (Samuel Clemens?) who was not Tom Sawyer.A few years later I reread my early childhood favorite (I probably reached a ripe old age of eight or so, still diligent but a bit less serious already). It was then that I figured out what seemed strange about the beginning of this book when I was five.You see, I diligently slogged my way through the most boring academic foreword, assuming that was the first chapter. What amazes me that I managed to stay awake through it. Good job, five-year-old me! Excellent preparation for that painfully boring biochemistry course a couple of decades later!After that foreword, slogging through any classic was a comparative breeze. Yes, I'm looking at you, War and Peace! You know what you did, you endless tome.Also, as it turns out, when you include two characters named Joe in one book (Injun Joe and Tom's classmate Joe Harper) that can cause a certain amount of confusion to a five-year-old who assumes they have to be the same person and struggles really hard to reconcile their seemingly conflicting characters. And, as a side note, I have always been disappointed at Tom Sawyer tricking his friends to do the infamous fence whitewashing. A *real* kid knows after all that painting stuff is fun. Five-year-old me was a bit disapproving of the silliness. I have told bits and pieces of this book to my friends on the playground, while dangling from the monkey bars or building sandcastles (in a sandbox, that in retrospect I suspect was used by the neighborhood stray cats as a litterbox - but I guess you have to develop immunity to germs somehow). We may have planned an escape to an island in a true Tom Sawyer fashion, but the idea fizzled. After all, we did not have an island nearby, which was a problem. Also, we may have got distracted by the afternoon cartoons.Someday, I just may have to leave this book within a reach of my future hypothetical daughter - as long as I make sure it does not come with a long-winded boring introduction.