Category Archives: Books

Favorite Fictional Families

(This post is a compendium of a series of posts I ran in December.)

PenderwicksThe Penderwicks : A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy by Jeanne Birdsall.

“Meet the Penderwicks, four different sisters with one special bond. There’s responsible, practical Rosalind; stubborn, feisty Skye; dreamy, artistic Jane; and shy little sister Batty, who won’t go anywhere without her butterfly wings.”

Here’s what has me excited: I keep coming across reviews that compare Jeanne Birdsall’s work to some of our tippy-top favorite authors. Like this, from Booklist:

“Birdsall follows in the footsteps of Elizabeth Enright, Edward Eager, and Noel Streatfeild, updating the family story yet keeping all of the old-fashioned charm.”

And from Kirkus:

“Not since the Marches have readers met more engaging girls than the Penderwicks.”

The Marches?! Hello! We are so there. Review to come, after I get my hands on a copy. I’m chomping at the bit…


Other fiction featuring families of whom we are fiercely fond:

The Railway Children, Five Children and It, The Phoenix and the Carpet, and a bunch of others by Edith Nesbit.

All the Swallows and Amazons books by Arthur Ransome.

The All-of-a-kind Family series by Sydney Taylor.

The Family Under the Bridge by Natalie Savage Carlson.

Noel Streatfeild’s Shoes books, especially Ballet Shoes and Dancing Shoes. (Gotta love Wintle’s Little Wonders!)

Little Men by Louisa May Alcott.

Half Magic by Edward Eager.

The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright.

Ginger Pye and Pinky Pye by Eleanor Estes.

And of course we mustn’t forget The Chronicles of Narnia by our beloved C. S. Lewis. The Pevensie clan is one of the best families ever.

The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. This book has been an annual tradition for me since Mrs. Beville read it to my fifth-grade class. Now Scott reads it to our kids, who are slightly better mannered than the obnoxious Herdman crew but just as full of provoking questions. The Herdmans, as unruly a bunch of young hoodlums as ever burned down a neighbor’s shed, have a way of jarring people out of their unexamined ruts, startling them into examining, thinking, noticing—even if only in self-defense. For that, and for their alarming frankness, I adore these foul-mouthed, looting, hooting Herdman kids.


UPDATE: This morning I was doing dishes while enjoying the very loud music Scott had turned on for Wonderboy’s enjoyment (having a hearing-impaired son gives him license, at long last, to play music at the volumes he believes to his core to be vital to a truly authentic listening experience), and a family flashed into my mind—one of my favorite fictional families, how could I forget? No, wait! TWO families! I foolishly forgot them both!

So to our list let us add, posthaste:

The Murray/O’Keefe clan and the Austin bunch, those classical-music-listening, Nobel-prize-winning, space-and-time-traveling, poetry-quoting, dolphin-befriending, adventure-having folks from Madeleine L’Engle’s books.

And over at Love2Learn, Love2LearnMom points out quite rightly that I neglected to mention the wonderful families in Hilda van Stockum’s books—an omission over which Jane shrieked in consternation when the news reached her ears.

I’m sure there are other families who ought to be on the list—please write and share your favorites!

Seven Belly Laughs

…and that’s in Chapter 1 alone. I’m reading The Penderwicks to the girls. They—we, I should say—connected to the characters so instantly, from the very first page, that it’s hard to believe we only just met them. Jane seemed to find the connection so emotionally charged that she spent half the chapter with a blanket over her head, needing a refuge, I presume, in which to absorb the shock of having encountered a girl so apparently like her own self in the pages of this book. (The ten-year-old sister is named—guess what—Jane, and, like my ten-year-old Jane, is a dreamy sort of girl who likes to write stories.) Rose grinned wickedly over the barbed remarks of wisecracking Skye, and Beanie could not be restrained from leaping to her feet and echoing every line uttered by four-year-old Batty—who, like our Bean, prefers to spend her time wearing a pair of silken butterfly wings.

I understand Jane’s reaction—I’m a little goosebumped myself. We know these girls. How exciting to know our friendship is only just beginning! I can’t wait for Chapter 2.

Chesterton and Dickens

For those of you who have not been following the comments to my recent posts on Dickens (here and here), Nancy Brown & Love2Learn Mom were kind enough to tell me about G. K. Chesterton’s biography of Charles Dickens, The Last of the Great Men. I’ve ordered it from the library and am excited to begin—the perfect kick-off to a new year of reading.

I’ve decided upon a Chesterton and Dickens concentration for the upcoming year. I don’t know that I’ll achieve the long-term goal of Writing and Living, who, as you know, plans to read Dickens’s entire body of work in 2006, but I plan to spend a few months, at least, in the company of these two amiable gentlemen, Gilbert and Charles.

A useful (and delightful) link: The American Chesterton Society blog.

My other monthly reading goals for 2006:

• Two children’s novels a month—newly published, or new to me
(first on the list: The Penderwicks—no surprise there)

• At least one adult novel not by Dickens
(first on the list: The Red Tent by Anita Diamant and Life of Pi by Yann Martel)

“Snuggling Up to Genius”

Writing and Living is about to embark upon a Year of Dickens. Inspired by James of My Year in Shakespeare, she plans to spend 2006 reading all of Dickens’s novels in the order of publication. I have been eagerly reading her posts about this, in part because I toyed with a similar idea a couple of months ago when I was grounded by a stomach bug and assuaged my misery by curling up (in the fetal position) with David Copperfield. As has always been the case with Dickens, I enjoyed the novel so thoroughly—immeasurably!—that I was hungry for more (perhaps the only thing in the world I could possibly have been hungry for at the time, given the state of my poor stomach). I had an urge to read his entire body of work, beginning at the beginning.

Alas, I must confess that Pickwick’s opening did me in. In my vulnerable condition, I did not think I could endure several hundred pages more of those boisterous, loquacious gentlemen. I’m willing to give it another shot, though, someday. And I have yet to read Bleak House and Martin Chuzzlewit. Writing and Living may well inspire me to do so. After all, the March girls were mad for Pickwick & friends. Surely I must give these amiable fellows a second chance.

Anyway, all this Dickens talk brought to mind something I read long ago in the introduction to Kate Douglas Wiggins’s Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm. It was an unforgettable account of young (very young) Kate’s encounter with Charles Dickens himself on a train during one of his reading tours of the United States. I no longer have the edition of Rebecca which contains the article (Alice, I think it was your copy?), but I Googled this morning with hope in my heart and aha! There it was, in full, at a delightful site called OldMagazineArticles.com.

An excerpt:

There on the platform stood the Adored One. His hands were plunged deep in his pockets (a favorite posture), but presently one was removed to wave away laughingly a piece of the famous Berwick sponge-cake offered him by Mr. Osgood, of Boston, his traveling companion and friend.

I knew him at once: the smiling, genial, mobile face, rather highly colored, the brilliant eyes, the watch-chain, the red carnation in the buttonhole, and the expressive hands, much given to gesture. It was only a momentary view, for the train started, and Dickens vanished, to resume his place in the car next to ours, where he had been, had I known it, ever since we left Portland.

Shortly thereafter, the intrepid Kate slips into Dickens’s car, where she finds him alone and launches into a discussion of his "stories":

"Well, upon my word!" he said. "You do not mean to say that you have read them!"

"Of course I have," I replied. "Every one of them but the two that we are going to buy in Boston, and some of them six times."

"Bless my soul!" he ejaculated again. "Those long, thick books, and you such a slip of a thing!"

"Of course," I explained, conscientiously, "I do skip some of the very dull parts once in a while; not the short dull parts, but the long ones."

He laughed heartily. "Now, that is something that I hear very little about," he said. "I distinctly want to learn more about those very dull parts," and, whether to amuse himself or to amuse me, I do not know, he took out a note-book and pencil from his pocket and proceeded to give me an exhausting and exhaustive examination on this subject—the books in which the dull parts predominated, and the characters and subjects which principally produced them. He chuckled so constantly during this operation that I could hardly help believing myself extraordinarily agreeable; so I continued dealing these infant blows under the delusion that I was flinging him bouquets.

You can read the article in its entirety here.

Best Worst Fictional Family

006440275401_aa_scmzzzzzzz_The Best Christmas Pageant Ever by Barbara Robinson. This book has been an annual tradition for me since Mrs. Beville read it to my fifth-grade class. Now Scott reads it to our kids, who are slightly better mannered than the obnoxious Herdman crew but just as full of provoking questions. The Herdmans, as unruly a bunch of young hoodlums as ever burned down a neighbor’s shed, have a way of jarring people out of their unexamined ruts, startling them into examining, thinking, noticing—even if only in self-defense. For that, and for their alarming frankness, I adore these foul-mouthed, looting, hooting Herdman kids.

Favorite Fictional Families—Forgotten!

Thanks to all who sent well wishes for Wonderboy…he’s doing better this afternoon, now that the antibiotics have kicked in. Of course, all the lovely gastro-intestinal side effects that accompany antibiotics have kicked in too, with a vengeance. But at least his fever has come down.

This morning I was doing dishes while enjoying the very loud music Scott had turned on for Wonderboy’s enjoyment (having a hearing impaired son gives him license, at long last, to play music at the volumes he believes to his core to be vital to a truly authentic listening experience), and a family flashed into my mind—one of my favorite fictional families, how could I forget? No, wait! TWO families! I foolishly forgot them both!

So to our list let us add, posthaste:

The Murray/O’Keefe clan and the Austin bunch, those classical-music-listening, Nobel-prize-winning, space-and-time-traveling, poetry-quoting, dolphin-befriending, adventure-having folks from Madeleine L’Engle’s books.

And over at Love2Learn (my new home away from home [blog away from blog?]—and many thanks, ladies, for the invitation to join you!), Love2LearnMom points out quite rightly that I neglected to mention the wonderful families in Hilda van Stockum’s books—an omission over which Jane shrieked in consternation when the news reached her ears.

I’m sure there are other families who ought to be on the list—please write and share your favorites!

Penderwicks Again

Kelly of the excellent children’s literature site Big A little a clued me into this Boston Globe interview with Penderwicks author Jeanne Birdsall. Here’s a quote:

“I started with characters,” [Birdsall] said. ”I wanted to write about four sisters—obviously a ‘Little Women’ thing. What I loved about books when I was a child were characters’ reactions to interesting situations, rather than highly plotted books. That’s what I always saw, even in ‘The Secret Garden’ and ‘Little Women’ and E. Nesbit’s and Edward Eager’s magical books.”

Loads of other riches at Big A little a today, including word of a new Dick King-Smith novel (hoorah!), an interesting quote about the particular challenge of finding a picture book that can stand up to the rigors of a hundred read-alouds in a row, and links to dozens of children’s book reviews. Great site.

Q: How Do You Feed the Habit?

A reader asks, “With so many beautiful books to choose from, how do I convince my husband to give me a healthy book-buying budget? What do you do in your family when it comes to adding to your library?”

Ah, the book budget…now there’s a subject. See that Erasmus quote in the sidebar? Gives you a pretty good idea of how we feel about books around here. And after my brief stint on the soapbox the other day about how, if a book’s author is still alive, I try always to buy the book new rather than used, the question is begged all the more.

If you saw my house, you’d have some idea of the answer. We’ve been here four years and I still don’t have curtains. Our furniture is unimpressive, to say the least. Most of it is the stuff our friends and family were looking to ditch when they got real furniture. And—working and educating at home as we do—no one in my family needs much in the way of a clothing budget. Believe me, I am not known for my fabulous taste in clothes—just my fabulous taste in books.

So that’s one way our home library has taken shape over the years: the book budget gets fed while the home decor and wardrobe budgets have to scrounge around for scraps and handouts. The vacation budget is, quite frankly, non-existent. A family trip means piling in the van for the three-minute ride to the library. I’m not saying it’s the most sensible ordering of one’s priorities; I’m just telling it like it is.

I mentioned the library. We LOVE our library. It’s teeny tiny but boasts the friendliest, sharpest staff in the state. And our county’s interbranch loan system is excellent (and free). A couple of mouse clicks and that book I’ve been dying to read is zipping its way toward me in the delivery van. And no, my heavy library use doesn’t, in my opinion, contradict my “buy books new to give authors their royalties” policy. Libraries pay for books. As an author, you better believe I want my books in frequent circulation in as many libraries as bookishly possible. Also, libraries themselves are important and worthy of support. I don’t know for sure, but I have to assume a branch’s budget is influenced by its circulation numbers. If so, my family’s checkout rate must surely have bumped our branch up a notch. Really, it’s almost insane, the vast quantities of books we carry in and out of that place. Scott’s there two or three times a week at least, not counting the Saturday outings when the whole gang goes.

But back to our own personal library. Because, you know, so many of the books I write about here are keepers. Here’s the main way we add to our overcrowded shelves. For Christmas and birthdays, we tend to go pretty light on family gifts. Each child gets a game, a toy, an outfit, and two books, one from each parent. (Of course the grandparents spoil them rotten.) The books have become an important family tradition. I usually give classic children’s novels like The Secret Garden or Peter Pan, and Scott’s custom has been to pick out special picture books. Every December (and before each birthday), he makes a special trip to the bookstore and spends a long time reading and choosing. He has brought home some real treasures over the years. He inscribes each book with the date and a funny note. The girls love going through the shelves to pick out their own special Daddy books. Our oldest is ten now and outgrowing picture books, but she treasures her Daddy books, and he’s been a whiz at finding books to entice her with, like Mistakes that Worked or So You Want to Be President, both mentioned earlier this week. One of these days I should do a post just listing his discoveries.

Anyway, with four kids and counting, this adds up over the years to a lot of books.

The other way our library has grown is via our education budget. I assume every family, whether public-schoolers, private-schoolers, or homeschoolers, winds up with a certain chunk of the budget earmarked for school or educational expenses. What I spend our education funds on is Really. Good. Books. I don’t buy textbooks and workbooks (except when Rose begs). I buy what Charlotte Mason called “living books”: books written by an author passionate about his or her subject, not books written by a committee; books that grab us and zoom us off to another time or place; books that get inside our heads and become a part of who we are. Google “living books” and “Charlotte Mason” and you’ll find loads of good essays on this subject; I needn’t belabor the point here. But it’s the rest of the answer to the question above: every year, instead of paying tuition or school fees, instead of buying separate school clothes and shelling out for the items on a supply list, instead of paying for formal homeschooling curricula or enrichment classes, I spend our education budget on really great books. (And games. And art supplies. And science experiment stuff. But mainly books.)

It’s one of the best parts of my job.

Here’s One I Can’t Wait to Read

 PenderwicksThe Penderwicks : A Summer Tale of Four Sisters, Two Rabbits, and a Very Interesting Boy by Jeanne Birdsall.

“Meet the Penderwicks, four different sisters with one special bond. There’s responsible, practical Rosalind; stubborn, feisty Skye; dreamy, artistic Jane; and shy little sister Batty, who won’t go anywhere without her butterfly wings.

“When the girls and their doting father head off for their summer holiday, they’re in for a surprise. Instead of the tumbledown cottage they expected, they find themselves on a beautiful estate called Arundel. Soon the girls are busy discovering the summertime magic of Arundel’s sprawling gardens, treasure-filled attic, tame rabbits, and the cook who makes the best gingerbread in Massachusetts.”

Here’s what has me excited: I keep coming across reviews that compare Jeanne Birdsall’s work to some of our tippy-top favorite authors. Like this, from Booklist:

“Birdsall follows in the footsteps of Elizabeth Enright, Edward Eager, and Noel Streatfeild, updating the family story yet keeping all of the old-fashioned charm.”

And from Kirkus:

“Not since the Marches have readers met more engaging girls than the Penderwicks.”

The Marches?! Hello! We are so there. Review to come, after I get my hands on a copy. I’m chomping at the bit…


Other fiction featuring families of whom we are fiercely fond:

The Railway Children, Five Children and It, The Phoenix and the Carpet, and a bunch of others by Edith Nesbit.

All the Swallows and Amazons books by Arthur Ransome.

The All-of-a-kind Family series by Sydney Taylor.

The Family Under the Bridge by Natalie Savage Carlson.

Noel Streatfeild’s Shoes books, especially Ballet Shoes and Dancing Shoes. (Gotta love Wintle’s Little Wonders!)

Little Men by Louisa May Alcott.

Half Magic by Edward Eager.

The Saturdays by Elizabeth Enright.

Ginger Pye and Pinky Pye by Eleanor Estes.

And of course we mustn’t forget The Chronicles of Narnia by our beloved C. S. Lewis. The Pevensie clan is one of the best families ever.