Category Archives: Reading

Here but not there

Well, they seem to have fun even without me, don’t they? And it’s not as if I begrudge them that. Some other summer I will be there, rather than here.

Liz Kessler

On Monday evening Liz Kessler presented her Read Me Like a Book at the Manchester Children’s Book Festival, which makes so much sense for a former MMU writing student done good.

Amir Khan at Manchester Children's Book Festival

And this star studded photo of the mcbf people with Amir Khan looks very nice. I have to admit to having to look him up. I don’t know these things, but it appears he is a famous boxer. He’s also patron of mcbf’s multilingual poetry competition Mother Tongue Other Tongue. So that’s one boxer, one poet laureate and one poetry competition.

Steve Hartley

Finally, Steve Hartley and his giant pants. You just can’t have pants that are too large.

I was slightly mollified by the arrival of a local author and her daughter, bearing cake yesterday afternoon. Bookwitch Towers cheered up, and so did I. Especially as the daughter lost herself in Simon Mason’s Running Girl, which is A Very Good Book.

(Photos somewhat pilfered from mcbf.)

Women Heroes of World War I

Kathryn J Atwood, Women Heroes of World War I

Here is another book that has taught me things I didn’t know. I’m far too used to looking at WWI either from my neutral standpoint, or from Britain, and Kathryn J Atwood – as an American – looks at it both from her ‘over there’ point of view, but mostly from inside Europe, and mostly as seen by the women who lived there in 1914.

Those women didn’t necessarily want to stand there and do nothing. Many felt the need to do their bit for the war or for their country, or they simply hoped for some adventure in their lives. For some it was relatively easy to get involved, while for others it took a lot of deceit or at least time to get the men to see sense and allow them to join in.

This book tells the brief stories of 16 women who did something, either as resisters and spies, soldiers, medics or journalists. Some of them were poor and uneducated, while others were part of the nobility. Some were of more mature age, and some were only teenagers. Some went looking for war duties, while others had it thrust upon them.

But they all did good and important work, and some of them died doing it. In fact, so dangerous did it seem to me that I was almost surprised any of them lived to a good old age.

This is very fascinating, and in a way it’s infuriating that each woman only gets around ten pages to tell her story. On the other hand, with the bibliography for each entry, you could continue reading on your own, although as Kathryn says, not all books are available in English, which is a shame.

Women Heroes of World War I is an inspiration to girls everywhere. Not necessarily to join wars, but to stand up and do something.

My Name’s not Friday

Samuel has a strong belief in God, and he loves his younger brother Joshua. I was actually left wondering why, in both cases. What did God ever do for Samuel, or for Joshua, come to that? Also, Joshua almost goes out of his way to be a bad little boy. On the other hand, we know that circumstances will make a child or person something that deep down they are not.

Jon Walter, My Name's not Friday

And Samuel is not called Friday.

He has been brought up in an orphanage as a free black boy, and given an education, of sorts. But then circumstances conspire to have him sold as a slave, and he has to learn to live a whole new kind of life, as the 12-year-old property of a young white boy in the American south.

At times I wondered how Jon Walter could know what it was like back then, in a different country, but this is what writers do. They make stuff up, and I don’t suppose that a modern American author would know any more about what it was like to be a slave during the Civil War.

We learn about three different periods of Samuel’s life; the orphanage with all that is good and bad, his life as Friday, who isn’t even allowed to show he can read and write, and what came after the Union soldiers arrived.

It’s very interesting, and at times I was afraid it would turn out to be like Roots, where you never once could know what happened in the first place after someone had moved on, because being real, there was no all-knowing author to let you know about the people and places left behind. Which I found very frustrating. Here we do get to see more than just the time and place in history where Samuel is, and that’s good.

The characters are allowed to change and grow, which makes the story deeper. And the whole book is one big history lesson about slavery, like how you are powerless when your owner sells a member of your family to someone else.

To be truthful, Samuel took a while to win me over, but in the end he did.

Tents

Not sure if we lasted the whole night or if we gave up after a couple of hours. Such is my memory of the time my cousins and I put the tent up in our summer garden and planned to spend the night. Cold, damp and smelly I can remember. But it’s the planning and doing that’s the fun. Doesn’t matter if it’s totally successful.

I just read in a magazine that nature is the new religion for Swedes, and I can well believe it. I like to be near the sea as well as the next witch, but draw the line at forests. Some people actually like them.

Mick Manning and Brita Granström, Wild Adventures

Brita Granström was probably drawing on her Swedish nature memories when drawing her latest book, Wild Adventures, with her husband Mick Manning. ‘Look, make, explore – in nature’s playground’ is what they call it. And it’s definitely got enough ideas to last several school holidays, always assuming your parents either play with you, or let you be indpendent, playing in nature on your own, the way it used to be.

It’s all about putting up tents and other shelters, and finding and using everything out there. Personally I’m keener on nettle soup than I am on frogs’ skulls. Mick and Brita tell the reader about sounds and smells and tracks and what you can eat and how you cook out in the wild, and anything else you could conceivably want to do.

I’m very relieved we had no such book when Offspring were small, or there would have been no peace.

In Sarah Garland’s latest book about Eddie and his family they actually go camping. Eddie’s Tent and How to go Camping also has rules and instructions for how to holiday in nature, enjoying it while not destroying it.

Sarah Garland, Eddie's Tent and How to go Camping

It’s a lovely book, but I’m glad I’m not Eddie’s poor mother, who simply has to go on with the mothering she always does, but in harder conditions. Tom plays at cooking and making fires, but a mother’s work is always the same, except when it’s worse.

Eddie and the girls love it, however, and they make friends and they have fun and they learn to fish, and to eat fish. It’s all pretty wonderful, once they have braved the motorway jams to get there. It’s the stuff dreams are made of. As long as you are not a mother.

I’m sure mine realised early on that I wouldn’t last long in that tent. I suspect it was the same old tent she had used when she was young too.

At the World’s End

At the World’s End by Catherine Fisher is a short, but intense, book.

Catherine Fisher, At the World's End

Set in the near future, something dreadful has happened, and 14-year-old Caz is one of a few survivors who took refuge in a shop when whatever it was happened, and she has lived there for nine years. They believe the air outside is not safe and it’s so cold no one can survive.

But how can you be sure?

Caz and her friend Will are the next sacrifices to be sent out there, when food gets – even more – scarce.

You are literally on your toes as you read, and with a title like this, I wasn’t sure how gruesome an end it was possible to go for.

Read, and you will find out.

Where, Oh Where, is Rosie’s Chick?

I feel like I have missed the party here, but that can’t be helped. I never read the classic picture book Rosie’s Walk by Pat Hutchins. Where, Oh Where, Is Rosie’s Chick? is described as the long-awaited sequel, and a wait of 47 years is indeed fairly long. But here it is!

Pat’s illustrations are straight out of the end 1960s or early 1970s, and are thereby highly desirable again. It’s all yellows and browns and greens, and the book made me feel strangely nostalgic.

Pat Hutchins, Where, Oh Where, Is Rosie's Chick?

Rosie has laid an egg, but as it hatches she loses her chick. Somewhere. Where is it?

I can’t decide if it’s comical, or just sweet, the way the baby chick stumbles round the farm, part of the shell still covering its eyes. There are plenty of possible dangers, but as Rosie searches frantically, the chick seems to evade its predators, who meet somewhat unexpected obstacles. Who ever heard of fish eating apples?

It is rather funny, and in the end Rosie and her baby are reunited.

What can you say?

Daughter was browsing in Toppings in St Andrews a few weeks ago, when a young teenage girl and her mother came in. The girl looked around and noticed a copy of Celia Rees’ Witch Child, which seemed to have some significance to her. So she picked it up and handed it to her mother, presumably in the hope that she’d be allowed to buy it.

The mother looked at the cover and read the blurb on the back and looked inside the book, before telling the girl it wasn’t a book for her.

So, what should this Witch’s Daughter have done? She badly wanted to tell the mother that she had just rejected a tremendously good book, and that the girl had excellent taste, and should be allowed to read what she wanted.

But she didn’t dare interfere. Perhaps rightly so.

I’d like to think if I was that mother, I was simply making a rash decision from a quick look, and that I wasn’t involved in any serious gatekeeping regarding my child. That if another young person stood there and said they loved the book, I would change my mind and buy it.

But what if she was a strongly minded gatekeeper? Then she’d look a fool, and might feel forced to either buy the book, or to stomp out of the shop in anger.

And would this kind of advice or suggestion be better coming from a ‘recent teen’ reader, or from a trustworthy adult who is also a parent?