Way better than WWE!
Tuesday, October 4, 2011
Monday, October 3, 2011
BoTW: The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate
When I first saw the cover of The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly, my immediate thought was, "I don't want to read this book." I'll be the first to admit, I was once again judging a book by its cover. In my defense, the cover does depict the silhouette of a girl holding her hand out for a hovering dragonfly, a butterfly net slack at her side. At first glance, I thought the book was about frolicking in meadows and sewing pretty dresses, and as a dude accustomed to reading manly books like Leviathan, I had no inclination to read about a girl and her butterfly net.
You'd think I'd learn.
On a whim, I decided to give Calpurnia Tate a chance. I'm glad I did. Inside, I found an engrossing book about a young girl growing up in central Texas more than one hundred years ago. I love historical fiction and Calpurnia Tate does an exceptional job of painting a picture of what life must have been like in turn-of-the-20th century Texas.
Each chapter of the book begins with a quote from Charles Darwin's The Origin of Species and depicts one in a series of typical events in the life of Calpurnia Tate, the book's main character. Calpurnia is eleven years old, the only daughter of a family of six boys! She lives on a pecan farm not far from Austin and loves more than anything to spend time with her grandfather exploring the countryside studying the local flora and fauna.
What Calpurnia doesn't enjoy doing is everything expected of a girl growing up in 19th century Texas: sewing, cooking, knitting, piano playing, and behaving like a lady. Calpurnia struggles with the weight of these expectations throughout the entire book because deep down she knows she wants nothing more than to go to college and become a natural scientist, a life-long dream that runs counter to her mother and the community in general.
In the middle of Calpurnia's struggle to be a scientist instead of a housewife, Jacqueline Kelly masterfully describes life in the post-Civil War era. One of my favorite chapters entitled "Thanksgiving" tells the story of how Calpurnia's little brother Travis gets the responsibility of caring for the family's three turkeys, all destined for the holiday plate. Travis, a softy for all critters, wastes no time naming all three turkeys and they soon become his very own pets to the point where the turkey trio come running up to greet him whenever he approaches. When Travis discovers the family means to eat the turkeys come Thanksgiving, he does everything he can to "accidentally" allow the birds to escape. It's a hilarious and insightful chapter, but not one that ends happily for Reggie, Tom Turkey, and Lavania.
In some ways, the book's series of anecdotal stories reminds me of the 70s show Little House on the Praire. Calpurnia Tate bears a passing resemblance to the spunky Laura Ingalls. However, Calpurnia Tate is not nearly as full of homespun goodness as Little House. Unlike the TV show, which very often preached a moral code, Calpurnia Tate very much feels like a real person growing up in a unique period of U.S. history.
As you can tell by now, I highly recommend the book. It's smartly written, contains interesting, admirable characters, and is an invaluable prism for gazing into life in Texas a century ago, and yet another example of giving a book a try despite its butterfly girl cover.
You'd think I'd learn.
On a whim, I decided to give Calpurnia Tate a chance. I'm glad I did. Inside, I found an engrossing book about a young girl growing up in central Texas more than one hundred years ago. I love historical fiction and Calpurnia Tate does an exceptional job of painting a picture of what life must have been like in turn-of-the-20th century Texas.
Each chapter of the book begins with a quote from Charles Darwin's The Origin of Species and depicts one in a series of typical events in the life of Calpurnia Tate, the book's main character. Calpurnia is eleven years old, the only daughter of a family of six boys! She lives on a pecan farm not far from Austin and loves more than anything to spend time with her grandfather exploring the countryside studying the local flora and fauna.
What Calpurnia doesn't enjoy doing is everything expected of a girl growing up in 19th century Texas: sewing, cooking, knitting, piano playing, and behaving like a lady. Calpurnia struggles with the weight of these expectations throughout the entire book because deep down she knows she wants nothing more than to go to college and become a natural scientist, a life-long dream that runs counter to her mother and the community in general.
In the middle of Calpurnia's struggle to be a scientist instead of a housewife, Jacqueline Kelly masterfully describes life in the post-Civil War era. One of my favorite chapters entitled "Thanksgiving" tells the story of how Calpurnia's little brother Travis gets the responsibility of caring for the family's three turkeys, all destined for the holiday plate. Travis, a softy for all critters, wastes no time naming all three turkeys and they soon become his very own pets to the point where the turkey trio come running up to greet him whenever he approaches. When Travis discovers the family means to eat the turkeys come Thanksgiving, he does everything he can to "accidentally" allow the birds to escape. It's a hilarious and insightful chapter, but not one that ends happily for Reggie, Tom Turkey, and Lavania.
In some ways, the book's series of anecdotal stories reminds me of the 70s show Little House on the Praire. Calpurnia Tate bears a passing resemblance to the spunky Laura Ingalls. However, Calpurnia Tate is not nearly as full of homespun goodness as Little House. Unlike the TV show, which very often preached a moral code, Calpurnia Tate very much feels like a real person growing up in a unique period of U.S. history.
As you can tell by now, I highly recommend the book. It's smartly written, contains interesting, admirable characters, and is an invaluable prism for gazing into life in Texas a century ago, and yet another example of giving a book a try despite its butterfly girl cover.
Monday, September 26, 2011
BoTW: Peter and the Star Catchers
Looking for a great fantasy book? Love Peter Pan and Tinkerbell? Then check out Peter and the Starcatchers, a retelling of the Peter Pan story by Dave Barry and Ridley Pearson. Check out Wikipedia's entry about Peter and the Starcatchers, including summaries of the book and the major characters, comparisons between this book and the original written by Barrie, and critical opinions of the book.
And if you like Peter and the Starcatchers, read the sequels, Peter and the Shadow Thieves,Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, and Peter and the Sword of Mercy.
Look for all four books in the Fiction section, under the call number FIC BARRY. For lots more information about the book, visit the website http://www.peterandthestarcatchers.com/
Friday, September 23, 2011
New Arrival: The Throne of Fire
Have you been reading The Kane Chronicles series by Rick Riordan? If so, I bet you can't wait to read The Throne of Fire! Here's what Destiny says about the book:
"Carter and Sadie must outsmart the House of Life and the gods of chaos in order to complete their worldwide search for an ancient Egyptian book."
"Carter and Sadie must outsmart the House of Life and the gods of chaos in order to complete their worldwide search for an ancient Egyptian book."
Wednesday, September 21, 2011
Library Tip of the Week
Have a pass to come to the library during class? No problem! Just keep in mind the following:
See you in the library!
- Sign in at the circulation desk. Be sure to include the time that you arrived.
- If you see Mr. Thomson talking to a class, return to class and try coming another time.
- If you have books to turn in, hang on to them if you plan to check out more.
- If you don't see Mr. Thomson in the library at all, don't wait for him to come back! Return to class and try coming another time.
See you in the library!
Tuesday, September 20, 2011
Monday, September 19, 2011
BoTW: SLOB
When you pick up SLOB by Ellen Potter and you stare at the book's cover with an Oreo cookie substituting as the title's "o," you might think you know what the book means by "slob."
To Ellen Potter's immense credit, you would be wrong.
The story opens with Owen Birnbaum, who declares at the beginning of the book that he is likely fatter and smarter than you are. Being overweight AND smart means Owen doesn't fit in well at school. He's got a friend or two, but most everyone at school makes fun of him. Bullies delight in humiliating him, especially Owen's sadistic gym teacher.
But being a social misfit isn't what troubles Owen the most. Well into the book you will find that even though Owen lives with someone he calls Mom, something happened to his real parents. Something tragic. Owen can't let go and move on from his parents' untimely death and so he works on his own personal invention, a device he calls Nemesis, to better cope.
Like Owen tells you from the start, he's smart. Genius smart. Owen knows all about satellite waves and he plans to build Nemesis so that it can grab some security camera footage of his parents the night they were killed.
Heavy stuff.
The book is also very funny and lighthearted. Owen's sister belongs to GWAB: Girls Who Are Boys and insists everyone start calling her Jeremy. The school's thug reportedly carries a switchblade in his sock. Owen's friend Nima makes tasty momos and talks about Tibetan Buddhism karma.
It's the ending, however, that makes SLOB shine. The most beautiful and saddest aspect of the book is how Ellen Potter makes you think slob means one thing, only to turn it around on its head in the book's final pages. Potter artfully combines the themes of her book--loss, grief, forgiveness--and drives them home so poignently. If you don't like crying in public, read the ending in private!
To Ellen Potter's immense credit, you would be wrong.
The story opens with Owen Birnbaum, who declares at the beginning of the book that he is likely fatter and smarter than you are. Being overweight AND smart means Owen doesn't fit in well at school. He's got a friend or two, but most everyone at school makes fun of him. Bullies delight in humiliating him, especially Owen's sadistic gym teacher.
But being a social misfit isn't what troubles Owen the most. Well into the book you will find that even though Owen lives with someone he calls Mom, something happened to his real parents. Something tragic. Owen can't let go and move on from his parents' untimely death and so he works on his own personal invention, a device he calls Nemesis, to better cope.
Like Owen tells you from the start, he's smart. Genius smart. Owen knows all about satellite waves and he plans to build Nemesis so that it can grab some security camera footage of his parents the night they were killed.
Heavy stuff.
The book is also very funny and lighthearted. Owen's sister belongs to GWAB: Girls Who Are Boys and insists everyone start calling her Jeremy. The school's thug reportedly carries a switchblade in his sock. Owen's friend Nima makes tasty momos and talks about Tibetan Buddhism karma.
It's the ending, however, that makes SLOB shine. The most beautiful and saddest aspect of the book is how Ellen Potter makes you think slob means one thing, only to turn it around on its head in the book's final pages. Potter artfully combines the themes of her book--loss, grief, forgiveness--and drives them home so poignently. If you don't like crying in public, read the ending in private!
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