Little End Shelves

The Lungfish, the Dodo, and the Unicorn, by Willy Ley.

“An Excursion into Romantic Zoology. New Edition, Completely Revised and Considerably Enlarged.” There was a copy of this in the high school library; it is a very early work of cryptozoology, theorizing about extinct animals, anomalous creatures, and the possible real basis for legendary animals like dragons and unicorns. I was happy to run across this copy at Half-Price and finally snag an old memory. Many line illustrations. [Lacks this jacket.]

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Cryptozoology. Hardback.

The Good Old Days – They Were Terrible! by Otto L. Bettman

There was a copy of this in the high school library. It is sort of a record of anti-nostalgia, recording all the disasters, plagues, foolish practices, prejudices, and unregulated pollution of the past, from the 1800’s into the early 1900’s. A corrective for anyone with an over-idyllic idea of the past. Many contemporary illustrations.

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Social History. Softcover.

They Have a Word for It, by Howard Rheingold. Illustrated by Rosanne Litzinger.

“A Lighthearted Lexicon of Untranslatable Words and Phrases”. “They Have a Word for It takes the reader to the far corners of the globe to discover words and phrases for which there are no equivalents in English. From the North Pole to New Guinea, from Easter Island to Tibet, Howard Rheingold explores more than forty familiar and obscure languages to discover genuinely useful (rather than simply odd) words that can open up new ways of understanding and experience life.” – Goodreads. An interesting browser from which I learned about ‘wabi’ and ‘sabi’, and other terms for which there is no precise English equivalent. I’ve had it for about 30 years.

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Lexicon. Humor. Hardback.

The Isle of Gramarye: An Anthology of the Poetry of Magic, Edited by Jennifer Westwood. Illustrated by Pauline Baynes.

A lovely little collection, less than a hundred pages long, not of childish rhymes but poems that were selected to appeal to youngsters with a taste for magic. With poetry by Shakespeare, de la Mare, Yeats, Tolkien, Masefield, and others, it is an enchanting book full of Baynes’ charming illustrations.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Poetry. Magic. Hardback.

The Impossible People, by Georgess McHargue. Illustrated by Frank Bozzo.

“A History Natural and Unnatural of Beings Terrible and Wonderful”. “The Impossible People is one of the first volumes of folklore I ever owned. I got my original (softcover) copy for ten cents at a school book sale [I think it was a church school]; this hardback I ordered just this year [2009]. We read the cover off our old copy; I remember our amusement when the description of a Hag ("females of great age, with bent backs, rheumy eyes, clawlike hands, sunken cheeks, long noses, wispy hair, and sometimes pointed teeth") perfectly fit our third grade teacher. Informative and well-organized, presented without any embellishments or speculation, it is a great introduction for a young reader to creatures of legend and fairy tale.” – Power of Babel. I now find there is a kind of a companion volume by McHargue: “The Beasts of Never: A History Natural and Un-natural of Monsters Mythical and Magical.” [Lacks Jacket. I include the old Dell Yearling cover.]

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Folklore. Children’s. Hardback.

The Beasts of Never, by Georges McHargue.

“A History Natural and Unnatural of Monsters Mythical and Magical: Revised and Expanded Edition.” Illustrated by Frank Bozzo. One of the volumes ordered for my 57^th birthday and arrived August 1^st. Used library book, apparently, and so was in a rather sturdy and very reasonably priced format.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Mythological Bestiary. Children’s Book. Hardback.

Nathaniel’s Witch, by Katherine Gibson. Illustrated by Vera Bock.

“Nathaniel's Witch, by Katherine Gibson, illustrated by Vera Bock (Longman's, Green and Co., 1941). This book was brought out by the same team that produced Cinders, the lost childhood book I've written about before; the existence of Nathaniel's Witch was even pointed out by Peter Sieruta on the same site that helped me find Cinders. It is the story of Nathaniel Endicott, 11 years old, who is that rarest of characters in children's literature, an orphan. It is 1785 in the United States of America, and among his other troubles, Nathaniel finds he must help a reluctant witch escape the power of the evil Witchmaster (highly hinted to be the Devil himself). The Witchmaster has scornfully declared the witch can escape "only when you are St. Nick!" Nathaniel decides they can make this come true if the Witch delivers toys on Christmas Eve, and the adventure of the book is them trying to accomplish this against all odds and the Witchmaster's opposition. While I was reading the tale I began to feel it was designed to be a perfect 1940's film: I even cast it using period actors in my mind, with Jackie Cooper as Nathaniel, Veronica Lake as Jacquett the Witch, Basil Rathbone as the Witchmaster, and S. Z. Sakall as the Toymaker. It was a highly enjoyable tale and one I am glad to add to my library.” – Power of Babel, 2012. An ex-library copy. [Lacks Jacket]

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Fantasy. Children’s. Hardback.

Noodles, Nitwits, and Numskulls, by Maria Leach. Illustrated by Kurt Worth.

This is an old ex-library copy I bought at Yesterday’s Warehouse, I think. Being young and inexperienced at the time, at one point I mended the spine with gray masking tape. Sigh. “This collection of centuries-old noodlehead jokes, riddles, tricks, and stories with surprise endings provides background material and sources for each story.” – Goodreads. [Lacks Jacket]

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Fool Tales. Riddles. Hardback.

Into Other Worlds, by Roger Lancelyn Green.

“Space Flight in Fiction, From Lucian to Lewis”. Green “was a British biographer and children's writer. He was an Oxford academic who formed part of the Inklings literary discussion group along with C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien.” – Wikipedia. The book covers the varied literary tradition of ways to travel in space to other worlds, whether magical, metaphysical, or scientific. Learned without being pedantic, this straightforward book recounts what these ‘voyages’ said, with some pithy backgrounds of the people, culture, and times they were written. A rather old book and a little frail; found at a local estate sale, I think, rather to my surprise. [Lacks Jacket]

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Space Flight. Literary Criticism. Hardback.

Grimm’s Fairy Tales, by the Brothers Grimm. Translated by Mrs. E. V. Lucas, Lucy Crane, and Marion Edwardes. Illustrations by Fritz Kredel.

This second-hand book, old as it is (it is inscribed ‘Merry Christmas 1947’) and baby oil-stained (would be my guess), it is the first replacement I ever found for the copy we had (and still have) from as far back as I can remember, and which has been read into rags, as much an artifact as a book. Bizarre images, from poodles being fed fiery coals to a severed horse head being nailed over a gate to weird little inhuman grey men bargaining for a man’s son; these sank into our own heads, populating them with a world of wonder and danger. How did we get that first copy? Was it left over from Mom or Pop’s childhood? Just bought at a secondhand store or garage sale? Given as a present from a relative when Mom and Pop had kids, because kids needed fairy tales? No one alive to ask about it now. A strange connection to Chesterton, though. Mrs. E. V. Lucas was the wife of one of his best friends. This was a popular edition from Grosset and Dunlap, often paired with a similar printing of Andersen’s Fairy Tales.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code. Fairy Tales. German. Hardback.

Fairy Tales and After: From Snow White to E. B. White, by Roger Sale.

I found this book at a retired teacher’s estate sale, back when I still went with Susan and Andy to garage sales. I was familiar with the name of Sale as an editor and contributor to a book of essays on Tolkien and his works, so was interested in what he had to say about children’s literature. It was published in 1978, so it was a time when whimsy and fantasy still needed some defending; I would say that it’s now reached the point when it needs some judicious curbing. He begins with fairy tales, both folk and literary, then “concentrates on what he calls the ‘classic successes’: Lewis Carroll, Beatrix Potter, Kenneth Grahame’s Wind in the Willows, Kipling’s Kim, L. Frank Baum’s Oz series, White’s Charlotte’s Web, and the Freddy stories of Walter R. Brooks.”  - New Yorker. One classic illustration at the head of each chapter.

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Literary Criticism. Children’s Literature. Soft Cover.

The Tough Guide to Fantasyland, by Diana Wynne Jones.

“The Essential Guide to Fantasy Travel. Revised and Updated Edition. Dark Lord Approved.” “I got a copy of Jones' A Tough Guide to Fantasyland. I had heard good things about it, and it turned out to be completely as advertised: a hilariously funny parodic encyclopedia of the clichés of Fantasy writing. I laughed and groaned as I recognized my own past sins time and time again, from the perils of STEW to the plain facts about BOOTS and HORSES.” - Power of Babel. The book that went far to reconciling me with Jones’s work, which before had seemed … well, “Every time I would search the shelves [at a bookstore] I would pass a huge wodge of her books I would automatically jump over, cursing her (unfairly) for taking up space while the books I wanted were elsewhere.” – Ibid. Connected in a way with her “Dark Lord of Derkholm” and “Year of the Griffin” books.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Fantasy. Parody. Hardback.

Reflections on the Magic of Writing, by Diana Wynne Jones. With a Foreword by Neil Gaiman.

“This collection of more than twenty-five critical essays, speeches, and biographical pieces chosen by Diana Wynne Jones before her death in 2011 is essential reading for the author's many fans and for students and teachers of the fantasy genre and creative writing in general. The volume includes insightful literary criticism alongside autobiographical anecdotes, revelations about the origins of the author's books, and reflections about the life of an author and the value of writing for young people.” -from the book jacket. Includes her last interview. Jones attended lectures by both C. S. Lewis and J. R. R. Tolkien when she was in college – which may or may not have a lot to do with this book but is a fascinating fact. I will always listen to what a good fantasy writer tells me about fantasy writing, and she is one of the better, more entertaining ones. Though she was writing for most of my life, I got on the Jones bandwagon (figuratively speaking) just minutes before she passed away. Just a note here: I used to have the Chrestomanci books, in three volumes containing three books each, some allied short story collections, and the Dalemark series in one volume, but I sold or gave them away, I can’t remember which. Why? Not quite what I wanted, and I could spare them.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Essays. Literary Criticism. Hardback.

House of Many Ways, by Diana Wynne Jones.

“The Sequel to Howl’s Moving Castle”. “Charmain Baker has led a respectable, and relaxing sheltered life. She has spent her days with her nose in a book, never learning how to do even the smallest household chores. When she suddenly ends up looking after the tiny cottage of her ill Great-Uncle William she seems happy for the adventure, but the easy task of house-sitting is complicated by the fact that Great-Uncle William is also the Royal Wizard of Norland and his magical house bends space and time.” – Wikipedia. Howl, Sophie and Calcifer also turn up. Although I know I read this book, I remember very little about it; but it is the last in this particular series of Jones’s books.

Ranking: Essential to the Collection.

File Code: Fantasy. Novel. Softcover.

Big Fish, by Daniel Wallace.

“A Novel of Mythic Proportion”. I came to this book via Tim Burton’s movie adaptation, and found that, as usual, a book and its film are very different critters, worthy as each might be. “In his prime, Edward Bloom was an extraordinary man. He could outrun anybody. He never missed a day of school. He saved lives and tamed giants. Animals loved him, people loved him, women loved him. He knew more jokes than any man alive. At least that’s what he told his son, William. But now Edward Bloom is dying, and William wants desperately to know the truth about his elusive father—this indefatigable teller of tall tales—before it’s too late. So, using the few facts he knows, William re-creates Edward’s life in a series of legends and myths, through which he begins to understand his father’s great feats, and his great failings. The result is hilarious and wrenching, tender and outrageous.” – Amazon. A story about how people can come to understand one another through mythic means, when bare “facts” can hardly reveal the soul.

Ranking: Keeper.

File Code: Novel. Magical Realism? Softcover.

Lost Time Recovered

Donald Duck Sees South America, Told by H. Marion Palmer, Illustrated by The Walt Disney Studios.

“Way back in the Forties, the United States was pursuing the "Good Neighbor Policy" with South America. As part of the effort, the Walt Disney studios produced The Three Cabelleros and this little book. It was all to promote tourism, good feelings, and trade between the continents, and keep hostile European forces from getting a hold in the area. Along the way it is a very educational and entertaining look at a continent.
No doubt it was this educational content that led to its inclusion in the library at McQueeney Elementary School. Thirty-five years after its publication it was there, and one of the most eagerly sought after reads over all the grades, because of its ties with Disney, which made it seem more entertaining than the rest of the fare … The brilliant color illustrations, the generous line drawing marginalia, are all I remember them to be. The adventures of the neophyte traveler Donald as voyages across South America, his footsteps dogged by the condescending know-it-all Mr. Whelpley, his accommodations always being bumped by the superior importance of El Presidente de la Comision de la America Latina, but always helped by the friendly and hospitable Latin Americans (especially the parrot Jose Carioca), until he ends up a seasoned, feted hero, are still engaging … It is Donald's impetuous, vain, but generous character that emerges in the story that makes it so endearing. His valiant attempts to eat an exotic meal after being mocked by Mr. Whelply for ordering a ham sandwich would put Anthony Bourdain to shame. His impulsive purchase of a kinkajou set up a pet-desire in us boys that lasted for years. After stepping off his canoe and falling down fifty waterfalls when he thinks his guide has said the water was shallow, he decides to learn Spanish in Uruguay, hires fifty tutors to teach him, learns it in three weeks, then finds out that Portuguese is the language in Uruguay. Adventure follows adventure till Donald has earned serious experience points, and ends up rescuing Mr. Whelply in the Amazon, where the know-it-all has amnesia. Donald has the pleasure of re-educating him with all that he now knows about South America, and his hero status allows him to bump El Presidente for his plane seat home.” Bought this copy on E-bay in 2008. There is a companion volume, “Mickey Mouse Sees the U.S.A.” which I would love to get. “H.” Palmer was Helen Palmer, the wife of Dr. Seuss!

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Travel. Juvenile. Hardback.

Cinders, by Katherine Gibson. Illustrations by Vera Bock.

“It seems to me that I have spoken elsewhere in this blog about what a remarkable time for me the school year of 1973-1974 was. I had turned ten the summer before, and under the tutelage of a remarkable young teacher my reading had taken off, seeking out and obtaining for my own (and not simply for homework) chapter books. That year saw Bed-knob and Broomstick added to my small library, and Journey to The Center of The Earth, The Three Musketeers, Around The World In Eighty Days, and One Hundred And One Dalmatians. That year I also read Cinders, by Katharine Gibson, a book the plot of which I never forgot, but whose title and author eluded me for decades. It is the story of the mouse who was Cinderella's coachman, and who does not turn back at midnight, and who must make his way in the world of men. I looked for it, whenever I went to a used book store. When the internet came along, I searched for it using every combination of terms I could think of. My quest has always been hindered by various red herrings across the path: numerous authors have since written books on same theme. Some months ago, I discovered the blog Collecting Children's Books, by librarian and author Peter Sieruta. Thinking that someone with such knowledge and resources about children's books as he evinced might surely be of some help, I wrote him an e-mail giving him the details and asking his aid. He posted the request on his blog, and within a week to my joy it was answered, and by none other than Laura Amy Schlitz, author of Good Masters! Sweet Ladies! Within a week and a half of that I had my own copy from eBay and was once again reading a book I hadn't seen in 37 years or so. Cinders opens with the eponymous hero alone in the windy darkness before closed castle gates, the last stroke of midnight still vibrating on the air. Close to him is a shattered pumpkin shell and some rats and mice scurrying away; he catches a brief glimpse of a girl in tattered clothes fleeing crying into the dark. He has no idea who he is or what he is. When he wanders into the royal stable the only name he can give for himself is Cinders, which is the single half-memory still in his head. Cinders is a small, slight, mousy man, with pointy ears and nose and bright, beady little eyes, and he is dressed all in gray. He is smaller even than the loutish stable boys who work for the head groom, and when the groom hires him to work with in the stable there is some bullying and doubts about his abilities. Through industriousness, politeness, and kindness, however, he makes a place for himself, and when he heals Flash, the King's favorite horse, through his instinctive knowledge of animals, Cinders becomes a favorite in his circle. Cinders is put to the test when Cinderella's prince is in danger of falling into a trap, and a swift messenger is needed to warn him. Taking off on his own on Flash through dangerous enemy territory, the mousy little man is able through speed, stealth, and smallness to save the Prince by delivering his message. As a reward, after Cinderella is re-united with the Prince and they wed, Cinders is made the Royal Coachman, fulfilling his destiny. "Flash," he said, "at last, I know who I am and where I belong. Flash, right now and here, I am Cinderella's Coachman. I always have been." Cinders was published in 1939 by Katharine Gibson, who wrote at least four other books for children. Gibson passed away in 1960. The book was reprinted in 1969; it was probably (but not certainly) this edition I read in school. The illustrations are by Vera Bock. While I was re-reading it at last, I became aware of how deep this little book had sunk into my mind. First of all, it was a sort of proto-evangelion in my experience for The Hobbit; both heroes are as small as children, and originally looked down upon by people who measure worth in inches or fierceness. Cinders is described as being no bigger than a ten-years-old child (and remember I was then exactly ten myself) and that is an age when you can suddenly become very aware of yourself and wonder both about where you came from, your place in the world, and where you are going. I also found on re-reading that I had somehow subconsciously based a character in the children's book I had written largely on Cinders, in at least appearance. My character Thornbriar (a Field Elf) also wears a high hat with a wide brim, a long coat, and pointed shoes with buckles. He is about four feet high, has pointed ears and a long nose that (to my astonishment) twitches just like Cinders', a detail I swear I never remembered. But there it is. Cinders is a delightful book, and deserves to be republished, but I wonder if it ever can be, as things stand. I don't know if the kind of children it was written for are being produced in any quantity now; the kids of our age seem to pass so quickly from innocent to ironic I don't know if the idyllic qualities of this book would ever appeal to a large enough audience. But there is always the hope that it could still be passed on from admirers to their children, and that this work, already over seventy years old, might linger a while yet.” – Power of Babel.

Ranking: Oh, so Essential.

File Code: Children’s Novel. Fantasy. Hardback.

George, by Agnes Sligh Turnbull. Illustrated by Trina Hyman.

“It's about a rabbit named George, who wears glasses and helps a brother and sister with their life. It was an obscure little volume, and I'd been searching the Internet for it for ten years, at least, without a clue to author or publisher. Imagine my surprise and delight when I discovered that the world-wide web had finally been spun fine enough to catch my memories, and George, by Agnes Sligh Turnbull, turned up on the radar. Within a week I had a nice, inexpensive ex-library copy in my hands, and could see that all the details that I could remember were accurate. I read it in less than an hour (it is only ninety-four pages long, and that is with many good line drawings by Trina Hyman). When I put it down I was pleased but puzzled. It was a nice book, but there seemed nothing particularly excellent or special about it. Why had it teased and hung onto my memory over all these years? George H., a talking rabbit who wears glasses (he doesn't need them, but inherited them from his grandfather, a Belgian hare), turns up at the Weaver household. He helps the mother calm her migraines by letting her pet him (without revealing his unusual talents); but he talks to the children Milly and Tommy, helping them with their manners, their homework, and their vocabulary; the common-sense, working father never sees George and remains skeptical till the end, when he finds George's glasses. George leaves, in best Mary Poppins fashion, when he has solved many of the family's problems. Perhaps that's why it impressed itself so on me at the time. Perhaps I wanted a secret mentor and friend to help me with my life (and anyone who thinks a ten-year-old doesn't have problems isn't remembering things correctly or was just extraordinarily lucky). The family was just enough like mine that I could squeeze us into their situation. And the odd thing is, looking back, that even pretending at the time to have an imaginary friend helped. Asking myself what someone like George would do, and then doing it myself, helped me get through. I suppose, in a more rarified and advanced way, I still do the same thing. As anyone who has regularly read this blog knows, I have been gathering many of the old books I read when I was a child. This has been not only an exercise in nostalgia and delight, but in an odd way one of retroactive self-analysis. When I started this entry, I had no idea it would lead me where it has. But there it is.” “Of course Bunny Rabbit on "Captain Kangaroo" was a rabbit with glasses; the most famous imaginary friend was Harvey the six-foot invisible rabbit; and just when I finished this post I turned on the TV and quite by coincidence found "Foster's Home For Imaginary Friends' which has a six-foot rabbit with a monocle. In an odd way, humanity, and to a certain extant especially Americans, have identified with rabbits and mice. They are plentiful, common, humble, wily, and fertile; we are Br'er Rabbit and Bugs Bunny and Mickey Mouse. They are small folk up against a big world.” - Power of Babel, 2011.

Ranking: Essential.

File Code: Fantasy. Children’s Book. Hardback.