I may have forced you to read this before (if you've ever visited me this summer), but I make no apologies. Ladies and gentlemen (or whoever you are), may I present pieces of the introduction to Vivian Vande Velde's The Rumpelstiltskin Problem, which I bought at McKay's for fifty cents.
[Comparison to the game Gossip, or Telephone, or whatever you called it, and explanation of the mutability of stories passed on orally]
The story starts with a poor miller telling the king, "My daughter can spin straw into gold."
We are not told how the miller has come to be talking with the king in the first place, or why the miller chooses to say such a thing. In any case, to my mind the reasonable answer for the king to come back with would be: "If your daughter can spin straw into gold, why are you a poor miller?" But the king doesn't say that; he says, "Then she shall come to my castle and spin straw into gold for me, and if she does, I'll make her my queen."
Now, no matter the reason the miller said what he did, you'd think that in reality he would have noticed that his daughter doesn't actually know how to spin straw into gold. (Unless she's lied to him. In which case you'd think that now would be the time for her to set things straight.) But still her brings her to the castle to show off a talent he knows she doesn't have-- which doesn't sound to me like responsible parenting.
At the castle the king locks the girl into a room and tells her, "Spin this straw into gold, or tomorrow you shall die."
Not my idea of a promising first date.
The girl seems smarter than her father. She knows that she can't spin straw into gold, so she's worried. But what does she do? She starts crying. Not a very productive plan.
Still, along comes a little man who, by happy coincidence, knows how to do what everyone wants. "What will you give me to spin this straw into gold for you?" he asks her, and she offers him her gold ring.
Now think about this.
Here's someone who can spin an entire roomful of straw into gold. Why does he need her tiny gold ring? Sounds like a bad bargain to me.
But the little man agrees and spins the straw into gold.
Is the king satisfied?
Of course not.
The next night he locks her into an even bigger room with even more straw and offers her the same deal: "Spin this straw into gold, or tomorrow you shall die."
Again the little man comes, again he gets her butt out of trouble (this time in exchange for a necklace-- apparently the poor miller has a secret stash somewhere, to keep his daughter in all this jewelry), and yet again the king makes his demand: "Straw for gold."
At this point the girl has run out of jewelry, but the little man says he'll spin one more time if she'll promise him her firstborn child. Why he wants this child he never says, and she never asks. Obviously the miller's daughter is no more a responsible parent than her father is, for she agrees to the bargain.
Fortunately for everyone, the next morning the king is finally satisfied with the amount of gold the girl has spun for him, and he asks her to marry him.
Swept off her feet because he's such a sweet talker ("Spin or die"), she accepts the king's proposal.
Eventually the happy couple has a child, and the little man suddenly shows up to demand what has been promised to him.
Again the girl cries, perhaps hoping that yet another little man will step forward to get her out of trouble.
Although the deal clearly was "firstborn child for a roomful of straw spun into gold," the little man now offers the queen a way out: "Guess my name," he says, "and you may keep the child."
And if she doesn't guess his name, what does he get besides the child she has already promised him? Nothing. I told you: this guy doesn't know how to bargain. You wouldn't want to go to a garage sale with him; he'd talk the prices up.
Now, the queen should be able to guess the little guy's name is Rumpelstiltskin by noticing that that's the name of the story, and-- since nobody else in the kingdom has a name-- she might go with that first. But nobody in this kingdom is very smart, so instead the queen sends the servants out into the countryside to look for likely names.
Luckily for her, at the last moment, one of the servants spots the little man dancing around a campfire singing a bad poem that ends with the line, "Rumpelstiltskin is my name." Why is he doing this? Because if he was singing "Kumbaya," the story would go on even longer than it already does.
Being from this kingdom of the mentally challenged, the servant doesn't recognize the importance of what he has observed. "I couldn't find any names," he tells her. "All I found was this little guy dancing around a campfire singing 'Rumpelstiltskin is my name.'" You wouldn't want to put this guy in charge of sophisticated international negotiations.
Now, we aren't told whether the queen is really, really stupid-- which would be my first choice-- or whether she's playing a cruel game with the little man who, after all, three times spun gold for her and then offered her a last-minute chance to get out of her ill-chosen bargain. But when he shows up and asks if she's found out his name, she says first, "Is it George? Is it Harry?" and only then asks, "Is it Rumpelstiltskin?"
Justifiably annoyed, the little guy stamps his foot, which cracks the castle floor. (The king-- who, by the way, has disappeared from the story-- should have asked her to spin that straw into something useful instead of all that gold, like maybe a floor covering that wouldn't crack when a man consistently described as "little" stamped his foot.) But anyway, there's Rumpelstiltskin with his foot caught in the floor, and in a really resourceful case of well-I'll-show-them, he gets so mad he tears himself in two.
Excuse me?
I hope you took the time to read this through. It makes me laugh. Anyway, you can see a preview of the book here. Yes, the book itself is just as entertaining as the introduction (I didn't post ALL of it, just MOST of it). If you don't believe me, just go read it for yourself.
Friday, June 18, 2010
Wednesday, June 16, 2010
Sarah's Key
I both loved and loathed "Sarah's Key" by Tatiana de Rosnay. Last week I stopped at Chapters looking for a particular book. While I didn't find what I'd stopped at the store to buy, I noticed "Sarah's Key" and the cover art compelled me to pick up the book and read the back cover. Just from that, I was already drawn in to the story of a ten-year-old Jewish girl born and raised in Paris. When I actually started reading the book this week, I couldn't put it down and finished it within 24 hours.
The book opens with Sarah's story (although the reader only learns her name halfway through the book) when the French police pound on her door in the early morning hours of July 16, 1942. Every other chapter reveals more about what Sarah and her family are going through. I loved those chapters, although I despised the treatment given to Sarah's family and the other Parisian Jews.
But it was the chapters in between Sarah's story that repelled me even more. After each chapter about Sarah, the scene shifts to the early 21st century where Julia, an American woman living in Paris, learns of the Vel' d'Hiv' roundup. Julia's story is strangely intertwined with Sarah's and throughout the chapters devoted to her, Julia strives to find out what happened to a family mysteriously connected to her French husband and in-laws. Julia's story, in itself, wasn't so bad. In fact, Julia's story was actually more intriguing than Sarah's, since I could tell very early on what the outcome of Sarah's story would be. But Julia's story gripped me and pulled me in. It was why I finished the book so fast. The repulsive part of Julia's story was how her husband treated her and the language used in those chapters. There's nothing, in my opinion anyway, more repulsive than reading a book filled with swearing. While I can skip over certain words in my mind, once I read them, I know that they're in there and I lose major respect for the author.
One other thing I noticed in Tatiana de Rosnay's book was that most of her characters talked the same way. In a halting, stilted, not-using-full-sentences manner. I could understand if de Rosnay wanted Julia to talk that way. I could even understand if her husband or daughter talked that way. But Sarah and her family, who lived sixty years earlier, talking that way was jarring and bewildering, at least for me. In the end, though, neither the use of less-than-desirable language or the similar speech patterns did much to dissuade me from finishing the book. I had to learn everything I could about the Vel' d'Hiv' roundup of July 1942, and see how Julia dealt with the changes in her life after finding out what happened to Sarah. It definitely was a fascinating topic and a very interesting read.
One other thing I noticed in Tatiana de Rosnay's book was that most of her characters talked the same way. In a halting, stilted, not-using-full-sentences manner. I could understand if de Rosnay wanted Julia to talk that way. I could even understand if her husband or daughter talked that way. But Sarah and her family, who lived sixty years earlier, talking that way was jarring and bewildering, at least for me. In the end, though, neither the use of less-than-desirable language or the similar speech patterns did much to dissuade me from finishing the book. I had to learn everything I could about the Vel' d'Hiv' roundup of July 1942, and see how Julia dealt with the changes in her life after finding out what happened to Sarah. It definitely was a fascinating topic and a very interesting read.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
The Lady of Shalott
How typical Alfred, Lord Tennyson's story is! A woman sacrifices her life for a man, and all he can think is, "Wow, she's pretty." Of course, if Lady Shalott had not been pretty, he probably wouldn't even have spared her a thought.
The question I have is, why did she risk it? Why does any woman risk it?
Why was Lady Shalott cursed, anyway?
Friday, June 11, 2010
The Five Love Languages for Singles
This book, despite its horrible grammar and kind of poor editing, is wonderful! It totally opened my eyes to a whole new perspective. When Jesus said to love your enemies and also to love your neighbor as yourself, He was speaking of something that can actually be done--not only through prayer, but also through action. By understanding a person's primary love language and learning how to speak it, one can create friendships out of any kind of relationship! Read it. I highly recommend it.
FYI: The languages are Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. And no, this book is not just for people looking to get married. It works for any relationship.
FYI: The languages are Words of Affirmation, Gifts, Quality Time, Acts of Service, and Physical Touch. And no, this book is not just for people looking to get married. It works for any relationship.
Tuesday, June 8, 2010
Close to Shore
For Christmas 2007 Tyler gave me the movie "12 Days of Terror," which depicted the events of the New Jersey shark attacks in July 1916. While perusing Barnes & Noble on a sibling-date with Ty this past September, I happened to find a copy of "Close to Shore," a book about the attacks, which I had been looking for since I watched the movie. When I got home from school a few weeks ago, I finally got around to reading it.
I had mixed feelings about "Close to Shore." It was extremely educational and written well. I liked finding out more about the shark attacks, enjoyed the historical context written into the story, and especially found people's 1916 views on sharks very interesting to learn. But, sometimes I felt the author, Michael Capuzzo, went too far into details that weren't exactly pertinent to the story or told one victim's story much too in-depth. And that slowed me down some. But, according to the small-print, two-and-a-half-pages of reviews at the front of the book, many others disagree with me.
So, here's my humble opinion: the research put into the book was intense and I was thoroughly convinced that the author knew his topic inside and out. I just think he could have left out some of the less-needed details to shorten the story and keep me totally captivated. All in all, I liked the book and my favourite chapters were the ones about the actual attacks. They were the most engaging and appropriately-detailed. But, don't trust me. Read the excerpt below – and the whole book, if you wish – for yourself.
"A great dorsal fin sliced the middle of the brown creek as the shark swam along prairies of sedge grass and wound slowly past deserted banks, undetected by anyone. The air was warm and ripe with the sulfuric rot of the marsh. The water was rising under the shark, and it was attuning itself to new atmospheres. It passed easily through changing water temperatures, and the rising tide was protecting its salt balance." p. 226.
I had mixed feelings about "Close to Shore." It was extremely educational and written well. I liked finding out more about the shark attacks, enjoyed the historical context written into the story, and especially found people's 1916 views on sharks very interesting to learn. But, sometimes I felt the author, Michael Capuzzo, went too far into details that weren't exactly pertinent to the story or told one victim's story much too in-depth. And that slowed me down some. But, according to the small-print, two-and-a-half-pages of reviews at the front of the book, many others disagree with me.
So, here's my humble opinion: the research put into the book was intense and I was thoroughly convinced that the author knew his topic inside and out. I just think he could have left out some of the less-needed details to shorten the story and keep me totally captivated. All in all, I liked the book and my favourite chapters were the ones about the actual attacks. They were the most engaging and appropriately-detailed. But, don't trust me. Read the excerpt below – and the whole book, if you wish – for yourself.
"A great dorsal fin sliced the middle of the brown creek as the shark swam along prairies of sedge grass and wound slowly past deserted banks, undetected by anyone. The air was warm and ripe with the sulfuric rot of the marsh. The water was rising under the shark, and it was attuning itself to new atmospheres. It passed easily through changing water temperatures, and the rising tide was protecting its salt balance." p. 226.
John Donne, Undone
Batter my heart, three-person'd God; for you
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
(Holy Sonnets XIV)
I've always been able to relate to this sonnet. I feel just this way sometimes. The trouble I have with Donne, though, is that I cannot seem to separate these poems from his other less "holy" work. How can the same man who wrote "The Flea" write this?
Even as I type, my brain is protesting. It says, "People change" and "People act" and "People have layers." Perhaps John Donne was the same man who wrote "The Flea," after all-- or perhaps, as I imagine, the authors were very different people. Perhaps there is not such a disparity between the two works-- or perhaps the disparity was intentional.
In any case, I must admit that John Donne is one of my favorite poets, and whether or not he truly believed what he wrote, I take comfort in it. After all, God uses imperfect people. Perhaps discounting a message just because the messenger doesn't act on it is wrong.
As usual, I'm reading far too much into this. Enjoy the sonnet.
As yet but knock; breathe, shine, and seek to mend;
That I may rise and stand, o'erthrow me, and bend
Your force to break blow, burn, and make me new.
I, like an usurp'd town, to another due,
Labour to admit you, but O, to no end.
Reason, your viceroy in me, me should defend,
But is captived, and proves weak or untrue.
Yet dearly I love you, and would be loved fain,
But am betroth'd unto your enemy;
Divorce me, untie, or break that knot again,
Take me to you, imprison me, for I,
Except you enthrall me, never shall be free,
Nor ever chaste, except you ravish me.
(Holy Sonnets XIV)
I've always been able to relate to this sonnet. I feel just this way sometimes. The trouble I have with Donne, though, is that I cannot seem to separate these poems from his other less "holy" work. How can the same man who wrote "The Flea" write this?
Even as I type, my brain is protesting. It says, "People change" and "People act" and "People have layers." Perhaps John Donne was the same man who wrote "The Flea," after all-- or perhaps, as I imagine, the authors were very different people. Perhaps there is not such a disparity between the two works-- or perhaps the disparity was intentional.
In any case, I must admit that John Donne is one of my favorite poets, and whether or not he truly believed what he wrote, I take comfort in it. After all, God uses imperfect people. Perhaps discounting a message just because the messenger doesn't act on it is wrong.
As usual, I'm reading far too much into this. Enjoy the sonnet.
Wednesday, June 2, 2010
A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court
"We were in a trap, you see-- a trap of our own making. If we stayed where we were, our dead would kill us; if we moved out of our defences, we should no longer be invincible. We had conquered; in turn we were conquered."
This is, in a nutshell, the difficulty I have with Twain's book. It creates a trap-- a very subtle trap that Twain forces the reader to create. In it, the protagonist, Hank Morgan, pretty much forces the people of Arthur's time to accept all sorts of technological advances that at first seem to create great progress-- but then in then end, these very things that were to bring these people out of darkness only plunge them into greater darkness and, eventually, totally annihilate them.
Of course, as is true with many books I have enjoyed, the best part about the book is this trap it creates, for it forces people to think. I don't think I've ever met any reader of this book that didn't have a strong opinion of it. Not everyone loves to evaluate things that most of us take for granted.
Read "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court." You may not like it, but you will leave it with a new perspective.
It's Right Here
This is, in a nutshell, the difficulty I have with Twain's book. It creates a trap-- a very subtle trap that Twain forces the reader to create. In it, the protagonist, Hank Morgan, pretty much forces the people of Arthur's time to accept all sorts of technological advances that at first seem to create great progress-- but then in then end, these very things that were to bring these people out of darkness only plunge them into greater darkness and, eventually, totally annihilate them.
Of course, as is true with many books I have enjoyed, the best part about the book is this trap it creates, for it forces people to think. I don't think I've ever met any reader of this book that didn't have a strong opinion of it. Not everyone loves to evaluate things that most of us take for granted.
Read "A Connecticut Yankee in King Arthur's Court." You may not like it, but you will leave it with a new perspective.
It's Right Here
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