Tag Archives: children’s books

Weekly Geeks 2009-15: Big Red and Other Great Dog Stories

WG Spock[5] For this week’s Weekly Geeks, we are being asked to share books (fiction or nonfiction) and/or movies which center around an animal or animals.

So I thought for mine, I’d highlight a series I may have highlighted here previously, but if I have, it’s been a while ago. The series of which I speak is the Big Red And Other Great Dog Stories series by Jim Kgelgaard. The books are, in order, Big Red, Irish Red, Outlaw Red and Stormy.

A shining, silky red from nose to tail, the dog was trotting up the path Danny was walking down. His eyes were fixed on Danny, and his tail wagged gently a couple of times. Ten feet away he stood still, his finely chiselled head erect and his body rigid. Spellbound, Danny returned the dog’s gaze. He knew dogs, having owned and hunted with hounds since he was old enough to do anything. The red dog was not a hound– Danny knew vaguely that it was called an Irish setter– but never before had he seen any dog that revealed at first glance all the qualities a dog should have. Danny walked forward, and knelt to ruffle the red dog’s ears.
“Hi, boy,” he said. “How are you, Red?

Like Danny Pickett, the boy who encounters the red dog, I was enthralled from the first moment I was introduced to the dog. After all, I was a boy who had his favorite dog, Scoot. I instantly could relate to the love that Danny showed for this dog that he didn’t even know but whom he would come to know over the course of 218 pages of what I consider the best dog story ever written, Big Red. Of the series, as often, but not always is the case, the first one in this series is the best.

The second and third ones, Irish Red and Outlaw Red, are about Big Red’s sons, Mike (Irish Red) and Sean (Outlaw Red). As in the first one, where Big Red has to do battle with a bear and a wolverine, in the second and third ones, Mike and Sean face their own challenges: Mike, a snowstorm and a puma; Sean, a coyote and himself.

Like in Sheila Burnford’s The Incredible Journey, another of my favorite animal stories, the stories aren’t so much about the humans in the story but about the animals themselves.

In the fourth of the series, Stormy, a boy Allan Marley is living alone on a lake  because his father is serving a prison term when he encounters Stormy, a large black retriever. Like the other three, this one focuses on the interaction between a dog and his master, but also throws in a little bit of a murder mystery. Of the four, I believe, this one is the weakest, but maybe that’s because I liked the connections among the other three, and this one was missing those connections.

However, if you have children, boys or girls, but probably especially boys, the entire series is a must-read for them, with each one a quick and engaging read.

TSS: Gaiman and Pratchett on their own and a book award

This morning, I finished American Gods by Neil Gaiman and only a few days ago, I finished Hogfather by Terry Pratchett. The first time I read anything by either writer– to be honest, the first time I had heard of either writer– was a book called Good Omens. I found it in the upstairs bathroom of my parent’s house. I think my mother wasn’t sure if she should save it or burn it for blasphemy. For the record, it should have been burned for blasphemy, but it was a hell of a ride anyway and I’m glad I read it.

Personally I’m glad she saved it, because I’ve enjoyed being introduced to two very different writers, different at least from most of the pablum that is out there. Of the two authors, I’ve read more Gaiman, with American Gods being my third book by him. The other two are Neverwhere, which was one of my favorites so far this year, and Stardust, which wasn’t as good as the movie with Robert DeNiro. In contrast, Hogfather is my first book by Pratchett, so admittedly it is too soon to judge.

However, that said, from what I’ve heard of Pratchett’s Discworld series, like this one, they are more than a bit scattershot in their approach. To me, it’s like he tosses ideas against the page and see if they stick. Some do, and some don’t. When they do, they really click. When they don’t, they don’t. His writing reminds me a lot of watching Monty Python, flashes of brilliance, followed by moments of “What the hell was that about?” When I told my wife that I didn’t particularly enjoy Hogfather, she said something to the effect that I’m more of a linear reader…

…which brings me to American Gods. At least, this one I could follow, even when Gaiman went off on tangents, I had an inkling of why he was taking the tangents. With Pratchett, I wasn’t so sure. While I don’t think this book was as good as Neverwhere, and from what I’ve heard as good as Anansi Boys, which has some of the same characters in it, I still thought it was a pretty good book. At least, I felt some kind of suspense, wondering what would happen to its main character, Shadow, and the lead up to the battle with the gods. Was the payoff worth it? I’ll let you read it and be the judge.

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Almost a month to the day, Mog (is that really your name? ;) over at Mog’s Blog tagged me with a Bookworm Award, and finally I’m getting to it. Sorry, Mog, but here it is:

Open the closest book to you, not your favorite or most intellectual book, but the book closest to you at the moment.
Turn to page 56….
Write out the fifth sentence, as well as two to five sentences following there.
Then pass this lovely little award on to five other people …

The closest book next to me:

The most dramatic contributions were in the areas of weaponry: radar, infrared detection devices, bomber aircraft, long-range rockets, and torpedoes with depth charges. The new weapons were extremely costly, and the military needed mathemiticians to devise new methods for assessing their effectiveness and the most efficient way to use them. Operations research was a systematic way of coming up with the number the miliary wanted. How many tons of explosive force must a bomb release to do a certain amount of damage? Should airplanes be heavily armored or stripped of defenses to fly faster?

The book? The answer is here.

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The only post I had this past week here was my Monday’s Memory on A Child’s Christmas in Wales by Dylan Thomas. If you haven’t read the book (especially to your children) or listened to Thomas read it yourself, I highly encourage it.

Mostly I’ve been goofing on one of my other blogs: Unfinished Rambler. Highlight (?): WTF (Mostly But Not Wordless) Wednesday #8: My Little Pony Felicity, which is what I discovered in my wife’s company van (and we have no children, weird, huh?).

The Boxcar Children

boxcar children cover Title: The Boxcar Children
Author: Gertrude Chandler Warner
Publication Year: 1942
Pages: 154

This is one of those books I remember vaguely from my childhood. I’ll be honest that I didn’t recall the complete story, just that a group of children lived in a boxcar by themselves, and when I read it this afternoon, my memory wasn’t triggered.

The story is simple enough: four children, all siblings, end up finding a boxcar in which they live down by the river. Their parents died and they have to fend for themselves. Along the way, the older boy, Henry, gets a job to support the other three children, Jessie, Violet and Benny. The other three children, meanwhile, learn to fend for themselves, finding this and that to make the boxcar their home.

What isn’t explained is how the children come to be on their own. All we know is that their parents are dead, and they don’t want to be taken in by their grandfather, whom they think is mean. Mysteriously, as my wife points out, their grandfather didn’t take custody of them when their parents died.

Maybe I just wasn’t in the right frame of mind, but an excessive use of exclamation points (“What a beautiful place!” said Violet. “Henry,” cried Jessie. “Let’s live here!” “Live here?” asked Henry. “Yes! Why not?” said Jessie…) annoyed me. All I could picture was John Bender in The Breakfast Club pantomiming his dad’s conversation with him and the fake smiles every time Warner used an exclamation point.

Another thing that annoyed me and which didn’t seem believable was when Jessie taught her brother Benny to read in just one day. It was like magic! I didn’t buy it. All I could think was these kids needed to be in school and I was irritated that the doctor for which Henry worked didn’t help them get back to their grandfather sooner than they did. I mean, those kids could have died out there in the woods in that boxcar and that doctor might could have been held criminally negligent if anything had happened to them (I’m not a lawyer; I didn’t even stay at a Holiday Inn Express, but that’s still my opinion).

Then the ending reminded me of the play Annie in which the orphan girl finds her Daddy Warbucks (for the Boxcar Children, it’s their grandfather) in the end and everything is all right.

Bottom line: Maybe I’m just too cynical for this cute children’s story, but the story didn’t hold up for me. So sorry to say, this was my first Monday’s Memory that didn’t bring back the fond memories.

Unrelated, well, sort of: Recently, Christie @ Read ‘Em and Eat asked me to be added to my del.icio.us list (see sidebar at right). Strangely, I went over there to check out her blog and what was she reviewing but a book called The Box Children by Sharon Wyse. Click here for her review of that book and  check out the rest of her blog while you’re there.

Remembering In The Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak

This was the first of a new feature at my reading blog, Just A (Reading) Fool, called Monday’s Memory, where I will remember a book from my childhood.

In The Night Kitchen
By Maurice Sendak
1970
35 pages

I’m not even sure how old I was when I first read, or more accurately saw, this book, but I do know it is one of those books that has never really left me. So returning to it earlier this year brought with it a little bit of a cringe, because it was so creepy weird to me and I think heavily influenced my dreams as a child, and a smile as I read again “I’m in the milk and the milk’s in me. God bless milk and God bless me.”

Aside: Ironically, throughout most of my childhood, I was lactose intolerant so couldn’t even drink milk, so didn’t even drink milk. Still don’t really, although I use it with cereal.

Now it seems so obvious how Sendak pulled the reader into the story with his first sentence in those first five pages and panels: “Did you hear of Mickey, how he heard a racket in the night/ and shouted, “Quiet down there!”/ and fell through the dark, out of his clothes/ past the moon & his mama & papa sleeping tight/ into the light of the night kitchen?” How could the reader not be intrigued?

Of course, I only learned recently that others were not as intrigued as outraged when the boy fell out of his clothes into that panel on the fifth page of the book into a batter bakers were preparing. Sendak’s book was also a highly controversial book and is No. 25 on the American Library Association’s 100 Most Frequently Challenged Books of 1990-2000.

I further learned from Robert B. Doyle’s 2004 book, Banned Books, while at the library earlier today that the book in its colorful past has been:

  • challenged at the Elk River, Minn. schools because “reading the book could lay the foundation for future use of pornography” (1992)
  • expurgated in Springfield, Mo by drawing shorts on the boy (1977).
  • challenged at a school in Beloit, Wisc. because the book “desensitizes children to nudity.”

Of course, when I was a child, growing up in the 1970s, I didn’t know any of this. I just knew it was, as I mentioned earlier, a creepy weird story. That’s for what I would, and still do, remember it.

Does it still hold up to the test of time? And how. 5/5. Surreal. Freaky, but a good story with Mickey ending up in bed “cakefree and dried.”