I want to start a weekly book review. I read loads of blogs (far too many), and they're all either hilarious, or beautiful, or intellectual, or theological, or a mixture of all those things. Mine's sort of a mish-mash of pre-schoolers and Christianity and John Mellencamp, so I figure I better get some semblance of order going here. Either that or stop reading other people's blogs, but I doubt that's going to happen any time soon.
I try to read 3-4 books a week (emphasis on "try"). But unless you want to hear a mystery or a classic reviewed every week, I probably shouldn't write about what I'm reading (also, I tend to be a little bit behind. I just finished, for the first time, Alexander McCall Smith's "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" even though everybody else read it about 8 years ago or something. Oh, and it was wonderful! But...you already knew that.) So instead I'm going to try and review a children's book each week, because not only is my ultimate dream job to sit around in my pajamas and read children's books full-time, but this blog IS called Guilford Road: IloveyouI'mcrying, which is about my kids, so I should have something that actually relates to them. Also, I concur with C.S. Lewis who said that the mark of a good children's book is that it appeals to an adult. Or something like that.
So, let's begin.
My inaugural book is Rumer Godden's "Miss Happiness and Miss Flower." Published in 1961, the story is that of Nona, a 9-year-old girl who has grown up in colonized India but is sent to live in a suburb of London with her aunt and uncle and their three children. Nona is homesick and heartsick, lonely and unsure of how to remedy that. Her two older cousins, while kind, don't have much time for her, and the youngest, Belinda, torments Nona whenever possible. Everything seems hopeless until a package arrives in the mail, containing two small Japanese dolls named Miss Happiness and Miss Flower.
Somehow instinctively, Nona understands that they need a home. It is not right for them to be thrown into Belinda's English dollhouse, Nona must learn how to make a proper Japanese home for them. She must first conquer her own fears and anxieties and actually meet people, people who can help her learn how to make a house for the dolls. Her first conquest is Mr. Twilfit, the bookstore owner down the road, of whom even Belinda is terrified. However, Mr. Twilfit is not unacquainted with loneliness either, nor is he devoid of sympathy towards children: "Will you be careful [of these books] if I lend them to you?' 'Very careful,' said Nona, and her brown eyes glowed. 'Then give me your name and address.' 'Nona Fell,' said Nona dreamily--she was thinking about reading those books--'Nona Fell. Coimbatore Tea Estate, near Travancore, South India...' 'You are in England,' said Mr. Twilfit very gently. 'Your address here?' Nona looked at him and the glow went out of her eyes. She could have fallen through the floor with shame; even small children, almost babies, know their address, but she had been taken into the house almost as if she had been a piece of luggage, and had never bothered to notice or find out its address."
Nona's course of self-study through Japanese culture, customs, festivals, and houses is always well-woven into the story and never becames drily factual. Of course through her creation of a home for the two tiny dolls, she is creating a sense of belonging for herself. And her joyful journey is not without impediment--Belinda nearly manages to ruin the whole thing.
Besides being a captivating story, (and Godden's style is unique--she traverses back and forth between inner and spoken dialogue with ease like I've never read from any other author) there is a wonderful amount of accurate cultural information. As well, at the end of the book, there are detailed plans of how to build a Japanese dollhouse as Nona did. In addition to getting Nona's perspective of the story, Godden also gives us the dolls' perspective (and I blame her for the fact that even when I'm in a rush to clean up all the toys littering the house up, whenever I put away Elaine's dollhouse, I make sure the two dolls are gently tucked into bed for the night).
The age range listed for "Miss Happiness and Miss Flower" is 8-12, though I think a perceptive 5-year-old would definitely be ready to enjoy it. The Horn Book calls this "A rare and perfect gem of a book," and I would certainly concur.
I try to read 3-4 books a week (emphasis on "try"). But unless you want to hear a mystery or a classic reviewed every week, I probably shouldn't write about what I'm reading (also, I tend to be a little bit behind. I just finished, for the first time, Alexander McCall Smith's "The No. 1 Ladies' Detective Agency" even though everybody else read it about 8 years ago or something. Oh, and it was wonderful! But...you already knew that.) So instead I'm going to try and review a children's book each week, because not only is my ultimate dream job to sit around in my pajamas and read children's books full-time, but this blog IS called Guilford Road: IloveyouI'mcrying, which is about my kids, so I should have something that actually relates to them. Also, I concur with C.S. Lewis who said that the mark of a good children's book is that it appeals to an adult. Or something like that.
So, let's begin.
My inaugural book is Rumer Godden's "Miss Happiness and Miss Flower." Published in 1961, the story is that of Nona, a 9-year-old girl who has grown up in colonized India but is sent to live in a suburb of London with her aunt and uncle and their three children. Nona is homesick and heartsick, lonely and unsure of how to remedy that. Her two older cousins, while kind, don't have much time for her, and the youngest, Belinda, torments Nona whenever possible. Everything seems hopeless until a package arrives in the mail, containing two small Japanese dolls named Miss Happiness and Miss Flower.Somehow instinctively, Nona understands that they need a home. It is not right for them to be thrown into Belinda's English dollhouse, Nona must learn how to make a proper Japanese home for them. She must first conquer her own fears and anxieties and actually meet people, people who can help her learn how to make a house for the dolls. Her first conquest is Mr. Twilfit, the bookstore owner down the road, of whom even Belinda is terrified. However, Mr. Twilfit is not unacquainted with loneliness either, nor is he devoid of sympathy towards children: "Will you be careful [of these books] if I lend them to you?' 'Very careful,' said Nona, and her brown eyes glowed. 'Then give me your name and address.' 'Nona Fell,' said Nona dreamily--she was thinking about reading those books--'Nona Fell. Coimbatore Tea Estate, near Travancore, South India...' 'You are in England,' said Mr. Twilfit very gently. 'Your address here?' Nona looked at him and the glow went out of her eyes. She could have fallen through the floor with shame; even small children, almost babies, know their address, but she had been taken into the house almost as if she had been a piece of luggage, and had never bothered to notice or find out its address."
Nona's course of self-study through Japanese culture, customs, festivals, and houses is always well-woven into the story and never becames drily factual. Of course through her creation of a home for the two tiny dolls, she is creating a sense of belonging for herself. And her joyful journey is not without impediment--Belinda nearly manages to ruin the whole thing.
Besides being a captivating story, (and Godden's style is unique--she traverses back and forth between inner and spoken dialogue with ease like I've never read from any other author) there is a wonderful amount of accurate cultural information. As well, at the end of the book, there are detailed plans of how to build a Japanese dollhouse as Nona did. In addition to getting Nona's perspective of the story, Godden also gives us the dolls' perspective (and I blame her for the fact that even when I'm in a rush to clean up all the toys littering the house up, whenever I put away Elaine's dollhouse, I make sure the two dolls are gently tucked into bed for the night).
The age range listed for "Miss Happiness and Miss Flower" is 8-12, though I think a perceptive 5-year-old would definitely be ready to enjoy it. The Horn Book calls this "A rare and perfect gem of a book," and I would certainly concur.
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