Dan was supposed to be in bed sleeping, but he stayed up and secretly finished off the book he's been reading (Jeremy Thatcher, Dragon Hatcher by Bruce Coville). We found him out because at 9:30, he came downstairs, tugged on my sleeve, and motioned for me to follow him back up. Could Daddy go? No, it had to be me.
So he led me back to his room, and as he climbed up into bed, he pointed at the book on the floor. My first reaction was exasperation: "Grrrr. Dan! Did you stay up to finish the book?"
He nodded sorrowfully (guiltily, I thought), and as I started griping about how he needed to go to sleep earlier, he dove into the covers and buried his face in his pillow. Then he started sniffling.
I peered down at him. He peered back at me. Tears.
Oh, dear.
Turns out the dragon had to leave Jeremy and go back to where it came from, and the trauma of separation was too much for my sweet little boy to handle, even though Jeremy and his dragon are spiritually reunited in the epilogue. Please could I lie down with him until he fell asleep? Sniff, sniff.
How could I say no?
Must remember the weeping so that I don't freak out when he says stuff like, "I'd rather be a regular soldier than a medic. Because soldiers get to shoot people, and medics can only use guns in self-defense."
Again, so much to write about--a lot going on over here at the treehouse--but because I don't know where to start w/o making it a laundry list, here's something completely different. Well, not quite. It involves a list. Several, in fact:
Anthropomorphic Mice in Children's Literature
(fanfare and applause)
I know, weird. But I can't shake it, so I figure I may as well write about it.
It was upon finding a novel at Dan's school library entitled Time Stops for No Mouse: An Hermux Tantamoq Adventure, that I had an epiphany. There are a lot of books about mice. A lot. I did a quick brainstorm:
courtesy of dianakimpton.co.uk
Stuart Little, of course (E.B. White)
Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH (Robert O'Brien)
The Mouse and the Motorcycle (Beverly Cleary)
The Rescuers (Margery Sharp)
The Great Cheese Conspiracy (Jean Van Leeuwen)
A Rat's Tale (Tor Seidler)
Ben and Me (Robert Lawson)
The Tale of Desperaux (Kate DiCamillo)
Then there are the movies and television shows.
What about cats and dogs? Rabbits? I decided to make an official list.
Remember what I said about Star Wars encyclopedias being fiction? Scratch that. Reverse it. Star Wars encyclopedias are nonfiction. Yes, it's true. According to Dan's school librarian, all reference books--even fantasy ones--are considered nonfiction. I know, right? Who knew?
They say that boys and men respond better to nonfiction than to fiction. Probably true, overall. As a volunteer at Dan's school library, I've seen far more boys than girls in the nonfiction section. On the other hand, it's not like they're a bunch of history buffs or science nerds. They're checking out books from exactly one category: Legos. And sometimes Lego Star Wars, that insanely popular combination of two already insanely popular brands. Sports, cars, wars, and drawing tie for a very distant 3rd place. If Star Wars counted as nonfiction--and judging by the number of Star Wars encyclopedias out there, it might as well be--it would be right up there with Legos. So maybe there are some latent nerds in the bunch.
And then there's my boy, who enjoys nothing better than a good story. I do love that about him.
Still, he also devours those Lego and Star Wars reference books. What is it about boys and men and their fanatic trivia-hungry little brains? I suppose there must be girls who are checking out horse books and real-life princess books (I hate to stereotype, but I haven't seen a single second-grade girl check out a sports book or a Lego book). Somehow, though, it's just not the same.
Read a discussion of this issue here, at an online teacher forum.
Sigh. Nickelodeon's 1996 movie adaptation of one of my favorite books of all time was passable, with the absurd exception of Rosie O'Donnell as Ole Golly (what?). But Disney's Harriet the Spy: Blog Wars promises to be a travesty. Apparently Jennifer Stone (The Wizards of Waverly Place) spends the movie diving behind couches and wearing silly costumes on her mission to reveal "the biggest teen star"... "for who he really is" (in response to which said teen star cries out, "You don't me! You don't know anything!") so that she can win a blogging competition against "a popular girl". It's just so ludicrous, I don't know whether to laugh or cry. But see for yourself:
What's a Disney movie about a spunky girl without a potential (chaste, of course) hook-up with a hunky guy on the horizon?
The real Harriet would have been a) more sneaky, b) more snarky, and c) less likely to be obsessed with a boy, even as a professional. In addition to its subversive message, the book apparently has a lesbian subtext (Louise Fitzhugh was gay) and a pathos that, oddly enough, haven't made it into any tween movies I've ever seen. Not that I've seen many, but I think I'm on pretty solid ground, here.
I agree that the brainy, independent tomboy is not a huge departure from normal these days, and therefore not as exciting or exotic as she was in 1964. Even Disney's postmodern princesses are portrayed that way, despite their Barbie doll figures, long, luxurious hair, and dreamboat boyfriends. Maybe Disney thinks that the original cagey, prickly Harriet wouldn't appeal to their tween audience--she's certainly not cute or hip, or even nice. But I thought that was the point, and I'd like to think that girls today would get it.
Who knows, maybe the film doesn't end with romance in the wings. Maybe Stone's Harriet is just as much a prickly misfit as the original. I've only seen the trailer, after all, so maybe I'm not giving credit where credit's due.
But I doubt it.
Ms. Fitzhugh must be rolling over in her grave.
Harriet in 1964, 1996, and 2010--the only thing that hasn't changed is the notebook.
