Would You Wish a Book Away?

One of the questions on Kelly’s stolen books meme has got us talking in the comments. The question was, "Name one book you wish had never been written."

My answer was:

I have thought long and hard about this one since I first saw this
meme, and I can’t do it. I can’t wish a book unwritten. There are books
I dislike and books that I think have done outright harm. But still,
something in me recoils from the idea of entirely erasing one from
existence. What if IT was the book that sparked the idea for another
book by another author down the line? I’m picturing literary dominoes
that poof one another out of existence as they topple down
the line. If I wish my most hated book away, I might take something
precious with it.

Jennifer replied:

I guess without Mein Kampf there would be no Number the Stars or Diary of Anne Frank…but still…

Which is an excellent point. I responded (not terribly articulately):

Well, strictly speaking I was sticking to children’s books in the meme.
But I did think about the question you raise—without Mein Kampf would
there have been no Holocaust? If so, that’s a domino worth knocking
over. Impossible to know, though, if unmaking the book would have
unmade the atrocities, or might in some way have made things (hard to
imagine) worse. I dunno.

What do you think?

Meanwhile, here’s a look at how other people answered the question. Some responded lightheartedly, identifying poorly written books they’d just as soon not have had to endure. (I could certainly come up with a long list of those.)

Others seemed to select books they perceive as harmful in some way. Here’s an incomplete survey, with links to the source:

Big A little a: First choice: Notes from the Underground, by Dostoevsky. Second choice? Help! Mom! There Are Liberals Under My Bed! by Katharine DeBrecht and Jim Hummel (I see there’s a sequel to this one: Help! Mom! Hollywood’s in my Hamper! I’ll put that on the list too.) 

Blog from the Windowsill: The horrific, claustrophobia-inducing Weirdstone of Brisingamen by Alan Garner. At any rate, I wish I had never read it.

Tockla’s World: I was totally creeped out by reading Helter Skelter about the
Charles Manson murders. But that doesn’t mean it shouldn’t have been
written. Even more controversially, perhaps we’d be better off without
some religious texts (Bible?) for all the trouble it’s caused.

Scholar Blog: Oh Pamela – that book bored me stupid at college – I stopped half way through to read Harry Potter and the Prisoner of Azkaban !!

Journey Woman: So many choices for so many different reasons.  Perhaps any book by Madonna.  [Interjection from Lissa: Ha!]

Jen Robinson: Kiss the Girls, by James Patterson. It’s a serial
killer/predator novel set at Duke, where I did my undergrad degree.
While I couldn’t help finishing it (because it was compelling), it made
my skin crawl. I did really like Patterson’s Maximum Ride, however, so I’m not holding it against him.

Children’s Literature Book Club: Ugh, gee, let’s think about this one.  I know a million people love the book Love You Forever
by Robert Munsch, but I CAN"T STAND IT! Yes, it makes moms everywhere
cry, but come on, an elderly mother breaking into her adult son’s house
to hold him while he’s sleeping and chant, "love you forever"? Creepy!

Farm School: Love You Forever by Robert Munsch; Disney’s Princess Storybook Collection; The Sesame Street Treasury. Oh dear.  Is that more than one?

Becky Levine: I don’t know that I think any book should never have
been written. A book I wish I’d never read…? Nope, can’t think of
one. Okay, sure, I’ve read and partially read lots of badly written
books, but they just needed a lot more rewriting!

Tasha of KidsLit: This will probably seem strange.  But I wish that Lowry had never written a sequel to The Giver.
I loved the ambiguity of the ending, the gasp that would escape
readers, and the fact that they alone had to wrestle with the
possibilities of what may have happened.

MotherReader: If you’re a reader of my blog, you’ll know the answer. The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. Stupid bunny book.

A Chair, a Fireplace, and a Tea Cozy: There are books that I finish reading and think, well, there’s three
hours of my life I wont’ get back. But often it turns out that my hate
is another’s love, so I don’t wish any book unwritten.

Gail Gauthier: The fourth Artemis Fowl book. I found it very, very weak. A sad decline.

A Year in Reading: Not a wish I am philosophically able to make. (ML) The new NANCY DREW books–I liked the old ones! (F)

Little Willow: There are many books which I dislike, but they may be loved by others
and were most likely valued by their authors, so I do not want to
condemn anything to "never written" status. If the question posed was,
"What famous, popular, or critically acclaimed novels do you dislike?"
I would have many, many answers.

Real Learning: Sex and the Single Girl by Helen Gurley Brown

Cottage Blessings: Misty’s Twilight by Marguerite Henry. This is admittedly a quirky pick on my part, but I so loved the Misty of Chincoteague series, and Misty’s Twilight, written by Ms. Henry much later in life, was disappointing in the extreme.

Mozart & Mud Pies: The DaVinci Code by Dan Brown. Blech. The worst sort of book. And made more so by the sad, but not surprising, way that so many clung to its message as truth. Demoralizing twaddle.(Also, I’d like to include every Social Studies textbook I ever had to suffer through in middle school.)

Cajun Cottage Under the Oaks: The Jane Austen Book Club by Karen Fowler. I’m sorry but it doesn’t even deserve a link—am I a meanie, or what!

Karen Edmisten: Helter Skelter, Vincent Bugliosi; Salem’s Lot, Stephen King. (Both gave me endless nightmares in high school.)

The Bookworm: The Antiquary by Walter Scott. I had to study it for an exam during my school days and have never been able to bring myself to read anything by Scott since.

Kate’s Book Blog: I could name a few books that I wish I hadn’t read but I wouldn’t go so
far as to say that I wish they had never been written. Just because I
didn’t like them doesn’t mean that others who did or would should be
deprived of their enjoyment. I’m not sure that I would wish out of
existence even those books full of political ideas that appal me. I
struggle with this issue, but I’m inclined toward the view that it’s
better to have the ideas out in the open where they can be combated as
opposed to leaving them to fester beneath the surface.

Marihalo Jen (writing at sea):
Stove by a Whale
by Heffernan, just the title is horrifying!

There are many more, and if I’ve left you out it’s only because following these link chains is time-consuming, and I’ve consumed every morsel of my portion of time. Maybe I’ll add more later. I so enjoy this food for thought (not to mention the chuckles—thanks, Jen!) For now—speaking of food and time—we’ll give Susan of Chicken Spaghetti the last word (and since she names my favorite herb, I’m glad this is just an exercise):

Rather than books, I am going to talk about a herb. Specifically,
thyme. I wish it had not been invented because it crops up when I least
expect it. Some people feel this way about raisins, but those I don’t
mind. Tarragon, dill, cumin, curry, cilantro: thumbs up. But spare me
the thyme.

The Best-Laid Plans of Mice and Moms

Last Saturday night: The girls wanted to watch the meteor shower. Sure, why not? I agreed to set the alarm for 2 a.m., which was when the viewing was supposed to be best.

We woke up the next morning at 6. What happened??, they wanted to know.

Me: "I have no idea. You SAW me set the alarm. I’m so sorry, girls, I must have done something wrong."

Such as (it turns out): Set the alarm for 2 a.m. WEDNESDAY. As in last night. This morning. Whatever. Don’t ask me how I managed that. My brain can’t formulate a response on this little sleep.

UPDATE: Bummer. According to Chris at Notes from the Trenches, we missed something priceless.

Got Your Sunscreen On?

Because it’s carnival time! This week’s Carnival of Homeschooling is hosted by the nice folks at The Common Room. And I’m kicking myself because I totally meant to send a post their way. Ah, well.

Best line (and terrific post): "Bwa ha ha. Charlotte Mason and Dr. Who?" Gotta love that Mama Squirrel.

Other blog carnival action this week:

The brand-new Carnival of Yum. Yum!

The first in a series of Loveliness Fairs: Simple Elegance in the Kitchen.

The 80th Carnival of Education.

And finally: it’s time (hooray!) for the next Field Day, or carnival of nature study, at By Sun and Candlelight. Submissions are due by Friday; details here.

Rilla asks, "When is the Carnival of Babies Who Wear Overlarge Hair Accessories?"

Hairband2

Carnival of Children’s Literature: Submissions Due Tomorrow

Don’t forget: tomorrow is the deadline for submitting a post to the August edition of the Carnival of Children’s Literature, hosted by Castle of the Immaculate. You may send posts to kidlitcarnival [at] gmail [dot] com, or use the handy–dandy button in my sidebar. Which reminds me! I meant to say, if you’d like a button of your own, email me (at the link, not at the carnival address above) and I’ll send you the code.

Upcoming carnival hosts:
September—Wands & Worlds
October—Scholar’s Blog
November—A Readable Feast

Care to host? Drop me a note!

It’s All About Meme

Kelly tagged all the children’s lit bloggers, and Alice tagged me specifically, so here goes:

1. One book that changed your life?

The Lord of the Rings wasn’t written for children, but I first (and second and third, etc) read it as a child, so  I’m counting it. The reason I say it "changed my life" is that it’s responsible for sparking my romance with Scott. At a college party, we fell into discussion of this mutual favorite and, well, suddenly the music and noise around us faded away, and you know the rest.

2. One book you have read more than once?

Ha, what book HAVEN’T I would be a harder question to answer! Limiting the answer to ONE I’ve re-read is harder still. If I’ve written about a book on this blog, you can bet I’ve read it a bunch of times. But let’s see. One book. Anne’s House of Dreams.

3. One book you would want on a desert island?

Again, sticking with children’s books: it would have to be something very very big. A complete edition of Grimm’s tales, maybe? Or no, I know: The American Boys’ Handy Book. (I think the boys’ version would be more useful in this circumstance than the girls’.)

4. One book that made you laugh?

The Anybodies by N. E. Bode.

5. One book that made you cry?

 Old Yeller.

6. One book you wish had been written?

 Betsy’s Baby (a sequel to Betsy’s Wedding by Maud Hart Lovelace).

7. One book you wish had never been written?

I have thought long and hard about this one since I first saw this meme, and I can’t do it. I can’t wish a book unwritten. There are books I dislike and books that I think have done outright harm. But still, something in me recoils from the idea of entirely erasing one from existence. What if IT was the book that sparked the idea for another book by another author down the line? I’m picturing literary dominoes that poof one another out of existence as they topple down the line. If I wish my most hated book away, I might take something precious with it.

8. One book you are currently reading?

I just picked up Susan Fletcher’s Shadow Spinner at the library yesterday.

9. One book you have been meaning to read?

Rules by Cynthia Lord.

10. Now tag five people:

I think everyone’s been tagged already!* Now, on to the Bookworm’s homeschooling meme. ::::rubbing hands together gleefully::::

*No, wait! I know someone! Heh heh…I tag Scott.

You Don’t Say

This morning I left three children sleeping in my bed (rather like a litter of puppies) and hurried downstairs to get the trash out. When I came back into the house, one of the puppies was howling at the top of his little puppy lungs. (Where "howling"="shrieking.") I hurried back upstairs and lay down beside him. He calmed down instantly.

I asked one of the other puppies (the five-year-old one) how long he’d been crying.

Her answer: "Till you came back."

Lessons Learned During the First Month of Scott’s Absence

He left for the other coast on July 13, which is to say: a hundred years ago. Here are just a few of the things I’ve learned in the past month of temporary single parenting:

• Check your gas tank, because no one else will.

• The second your husband leaves, every hard-to-reach light bulb in the house will burn out in despair. He’s GONE?? Oh, woe! Henceforth shall I shine no more! :::pop:::

• You and your five children will never, ever be on time for church.

• But laundry is easy, if you know the secret.

• The days will be long, and yet every Wednesday morning you will swear it has only been ten minutes since the LAST time you woke up in a panic because the garbage trucks were driving by your house and you forgot to put the trash out again.

• Except for the week you remember to put it out early, because that will be the week the waste disposal company decides to change its pickup day to Monday, which means you have already missed it again.

• You will not turn on the TV all month, because there is nothing to watch worth watching alone.

• If you post too many pictures of the baby doing new and adorable things, you will break his heart.

• If you do not post them, you will also break his heart.

• You will attempt to take your mind off how much you miss him by introducing your children to all the showtunes you never played while he was around because they drive him crazy.

• It won’t work.

• But the kids will think you are the coolest mom ever, because you know all the words to every song in Annie. And Fiddler on the Roof. And Les Miz. And Snoopy. But not Oklahoma, because that wouldn’t be cool.

• You will be shocked to discover how many different things in your house run on batteries—batteries which have apparently made a suicide pact with the light bulbs.  You will begin to wonder how your husband ever had time to get any work done, what with all the shopping for and replacing of light bulbs and batteries he must have been doing when you didn’t notice.

• Sooner or later there will come a night when it takes you until 10:30 to finally get all the kids in bed, and afterward you will pace the house like a caged tiger because you NEED CHOCOLATE and you are OUT. You are out, of course, because you ate every bit in the house, right down to the bag of chocolate chips that was supposed to become cookies for your neighbor. (When you write about it, you will hope that your neighbor does not read your blog.) You’ll be on the phone with your husband and he’ll want to know what on earth is making that sound in the background, like the sound of kitchen cabinets being ripped out of the wall and shaken upside down. And you will explain that you are OUT OF CHOCOLATE. These are words that must always be said in capitals all the time because they are TRAGIC.

There will be a short silence on his end of the phone, and then he will say in a voice so tender it makes you want to cry (or else eat a lot more chocolate): "Go look in my office. On the shelf."

And you will find there what he stashed away for you before he left, because he knew this day would come, and he will never, ever let you down.

Ritter_1

How does he love me? Let me count the bars.

Maria Montessori on Unschooling

"Supposing I said there was a planet without schools or teachers, study was unknown, and yet the inhabitants—doing nothing but living and walking about—came to know all things, to carry in their minds the whole of learning: would you not think I was romancing? Well, just this, which seems so fanciful as to be nothing but the invention of a fertile imagination, is a reality. It is the child’s way of learning. This is the path he follows. He learns everything without knowing he is learning it, and in doing so passes little from the unconscious to the conscious, treading always in the paths of joy and love."

—Maria Montessori

(With thanks to Donna G., local Montessori teacher and my fellow speaker at a recent alternative education panel, for bringing it to my attention.)

And in that vein, here’s what Rilla learned yesterday.

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Poetry Friday: Jane’s Choice

I asked her to pick out a poem for today’s contribution. She disappeared with Favorite Poems Old and New and came back with this one, (marked with a twig, appropriately enough).


I Stood Tiptoe Upon a Little Hill

by John Keats

I STOOD tip-toe upon a little hill,
The air was cooling, and so very still,

That the sweet buds which with a modest pride

Pull droopingly, in slanting curve aside,

Their scantly leaved, and finely tapering stems,

Had not yet lost those starry diadems

Caught from the early sobbing of the morn.

The clouds were pure and white as flocks new shorn,

And fresh from the clear brook; sweetly they slept

On the blue fields of heaven, and then there crept

A little noiseless noise among the leaves,

Born of the very sigh that silence heaves:

For not the faintest motion could be seen

Of all the shades that slanted o’er the green.

Read the rest here.