tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-47539484020751742012024-02-14T11:34:54.656-05:00The Jade Sphinx"The highest as the lowest form of criticism is a mode of autobiography."
-- Oscar WildeJames Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.comBlogger545125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-11884555975724175572020-12-16T23:58:00.002-05:002020-12-17T13:32:17.538-05:00DON'T THEY KNOW IT'S CHRISTMAS?<p> </p><div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;"><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXm8dhAJR2SCfnwtmIHvfGiGK6CVXkSjui8R7bZksrRdci9psBhe-1IvaOcMy0nVWXPGLNy3k8tZqUQ4qdqmMsQCrugE0SbZ9gcoTg-QmqBApHVfpK-2-xPQyEMsndjtFJ4Oxlmav5-jA/s1530/03CharlesDickens%252CThirdvisitor%252C1stedChristmasCarol%252CChapmanHall1843%252CCadburyResearchLibrary.jpg" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1530" data-original-width="1004" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjqXm8dhAJR2SCfnwtmIHvfGiGK6CVXkSjui8R7bZksrRdci9psBhe-1IvaOcMy0nVWXPGLNy3k8tZqUQ4qdqmMsQCrugE0SbZ9gcoTg-QmqBApHVfpK-2-xPQyEMsndjtFJ4Oxlmav5-jA/w421-h640/03CharlesDickens%252CThirdvisitor%252C1stedChristmasCarol%252CChapmanHall1843%252CCadburyResearchLibrary.jpg" width="421" /></a></div><br /><p></p><p> </p><p><!--[if gte mso 9]><xml>
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<![endif]--></p><p>
</p><p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 106%;">I was just listening to a collection of traditional Christmas Carols when I called to mind a conversation I had
during a Christmas party held by the English Dept. when I was in college.</span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 106%;">The English Dept. had the best Christmas parties, and I was
drinking wine with one of the Professors. He said that Christmas was the province of
the English Dept, because English majors loved tradition, history, language and
humanity. </span></p>
<p class="MsoNormal"><span style="font-family: "Times New Roman",serif; font-size: 12pt; line-height: 106%;">I suspect that sentiment would be considered risible
today.</span></p>
<p> </p>James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-1965032018808220892020-06-14T14:27:00.000-04:002020-06-15T22:06:30.179-04:00Before Google Erases Him<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHbXloDFrAzYAwkBobwboVihWaiEeT1Dx7ZtEdbQxqKW1IAjrYLpg6MrVa7XWjLvB89dn4ff7ZZoiK8Opa83FFpB6ePqs1O0KIgvIecetef8D-VvuGR6Hb-1dGPX_STJwwHvx2f6Dj5Im/s1600/Sir_Winston_Churchill_-_19086236948.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1258" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZHbXloDFrAzYAwkBobwboVihWaiEeT1Dx7ZtEdbQxqKW1IAjrYLpg6MrVa7XWjLvB89dn4ff7ZZoiK8Opa83FFpB6ePqs1O0KIgvIecetef8D-VvuGR6Hb-1dGPX_STJwwHvx2f6Dj5Im/s640/Sir_Winston_Churchill_-_19086236948.jpg" width="502" /></a></div>
<br />
Just a reminder of one of the key figures who saved the West from fascism.<br />
<br />
It seems that he is now to be the victim of fascism of quite another sort.....James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-62682331314514868942017-11-22T07:00:00.000-05:002017-11-22T07:00:10.999-05:00Thanksgiving 2017<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBAAy8iNGp6pBDHNmVC1Ipdx4NUXE91MVLPxemzBtFIgOdzFwqfAdD-TAGPlE22h6m1CiXbUjvwy-c9PRJ8CaqKL4Sa1t80MLFKVCv86Jkqumz1q4Tg5udgIR9LoGH6lNocIeezjogqhY/s1600/Lucas.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="1600" height="300" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXBAAy8iNGp6pBDHNmVC1Ipdx4NUXE91MVLPxemzBtFIgOdzFwqfAdD-TAGPlE22h6m1CiXbUjvwy-c9PRJ8CaqKL4Sa1t80MLFKVCv86Jkqumz1q4Tg5udgIR9LoGH6lNocIeezjogqhY/s400/Lucas.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So, many
of you have been asking … where have you been for the past few months?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Well, <b>The</b> <b>Jade Sphinx</b> was on temporary sabbatical while I finished a (long-overdue)
book on books-adapted into films with critic and historian <b>Jim Nemeth</b>. But since that undertaking is drawing to a close, we
will be able to post more regularly in the months to come. In fact, in the
weeks before Christmas, I hope to share with you multiple book reviews that
reflect new and noteworthy releases. More to come!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
before that, let’s think for a moment about Thanksgiving.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Thanksgiving
has always been our favorite holiday. It is solely predicated on the notion of
giving thanks for the manifest blessings that we find around us, and for being
mindful of the still, quiet miracle of our lives. Every day, wonders settle on
my shoulders like so many snowflakes, and I feel deeply in touch with some
greater mystery that lies beyond me.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Though
uniquely American, Thanksgiving has always been our holiday least associated
with ideology or creed. The celebratory
meal represents the bounty that is our lives; it is, simply, the holiday that
is best shared with people we love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I am
delighted to report that as I coast through my 55<sup>th</sup> year, I am still
as in love with my Better Half as I was when we first met, 27 years ago. In no
time at all, we will have been together for half (and then more than half) of
my life, and I wonder how we spent those early years apart.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I’m
thankful for all the dear friends and family who have trekked out to Southern
California to spend time with us, and to see us build a new life in a new
clime.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I’m thankful
that Southern California is the paradise that I suspected it to be, and for
exceeding all of my expectations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And last,
but certainly not least, I’m thankful for the new addition to our lives, our
dog Lucas. He is a four-and-a-half year old rescue that we adopted from nearby
Seal Beach. I have long wanted a dog, and Lucas has been everything I could’ve
wanted, and more. We spend an obscene amount of time just <i>gazing</i> at him; he makes us laugh simply by doing things as
elementary as walking across the room or drinking from his water dish. He is a
gift that has enriched us beyond measure.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It is
important to point out that for the past few years, Americans have spent so
much time over the Thanksgiving table arguing – over politics, over values,
over questions of identity – that we have forgotten what this holiday is really
about.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It seems
as if we are <i>always</i> on the brink of
disaster and things are always trending to ruin. I’ll be jiggered if I’m going to haul that
hoo-haw out again this year, because I think pointing out the negatives in our
lives doesn’t do us a whole lot of good.
So, yeah, things are terrible, it seems no one is happy with our current
condition, and the world as we know it is changing so fast, no one knows what
to hold onto. It was much the same last
year and will be much the same next year.
Been there, wrote that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But I have
faith in America and Americans. Good heavens, we created this holiday, the
first nation ever to create a secular day of thanks. Patriotism was never popular among most of my
friends; any positive sentiments towards the country are mostly met with ironic
dismissal or sneering condescension. But I think we are a great people, or, at
least, we try to be. I don’t know the
future of our land any more than you, but I do know that Americans are capable
of great things, great kindness, and unity.
That last quality – unity – has been in fairly short supply in recent
years, but I think it will make a remarkable resurgence in the months and years
to come. We can but hope, and I wouldn’t
have it any other way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This
Thanksgiving, make it a point to greet your family, friends and neighbors as
people, and not as units of some political philosophy. Love and nurture each other, and remember to
be kind and ethical. And, finally,
remember to be thankful. Thankful for the
many blessings in your life, the bounty of the world around you, and for the
quiet, ineffable mystery of your own existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-32947573832625015852017-09-27T12:22:00.000-04:002017-09-27T12:22:04.276-04:00Halloween ... Already?<br />
<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPzCSuu-onYmjATWIrOjMmW-IYrAAt5bPuitAURxMkSvpVOQmrGDstIWrL2YZV-j6pvIQqG8240H8DdBmG3tMPO_ccvSV8jAdMQ48rqaqYdPG44MtjTZJxKa3PCjur0py52dhJXLsSpCw/s1600/Halloween+Store+1.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1600" data-original-width="1200" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhvPzCSuu-onYmjATWIrOjMmW-IYrAAt5bPuitAURxMkSvpVOQmrGDstIWrL2YZV-j6pvIQqG8240H8DdBmG3tMPO_ccvSV8jAdMQ48rqaqYdPG44MtjTZJxKa3PCjur0py52dhJXLsSpCw/s320/Halloween+Store+1.png" width="240" /></a></div>
<div style="text-align: center;">
<i>On Sale At Target!</i></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
I have been thinking much about the aesthetics of the
Gothic as Halloween approaches. As I
coast into my 55<sup>th</sup> year, I continue to be amazed at how adults have
successfully co-opted the holiday. When
I was a boy, Halloween was primarily a children’s holiday, and when most adults
thought about it (if they did at all), it was as a nuisance.<o:p></o:p></div>
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All of that has changed.
For 2017, the National Retail Foundation (NRF) predicts that 69.1
percent of Americans will celebrate the Halloween holiday this year. To do so, they will spend $8.4 billion
(billion!) – with 44.4 percent of them starting their Halloween observance in the
first two weeks of October.<o:p></o:p></div>
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<br /></div>
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This figure has been steadily increasing; for 2007, for
instance, Halloween spending was “only” $5.1 billion. This year, we will spend more than $350
million on costumes … for our pets.<o:p></o:p></div>
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People of my generation remember that Halloween was quite
a big deal to us as children, but we were mostly on our own. Halloween costumes from the <b>Ben Cooper</b> company arrived in October,
along with some plastic pumpkin satchels and some cardboard window decorations
– and that was it. Today, each and every
retail store (from card shops to food stores) has some kind of Halloween
selection. The broad array of choice and
quality in Halloween products is remarkable.
These include candelabrum, snow globes, coffin-shaped jewelry boxes,
plaster gargoyles and gnomes, monster bookends, dining and bedroom sundries,
let alone more perishable items, like black plastic curtains and crepe paper
wall coverings. If anyone were seriously
interested in spooky décor, one could furnish their home during the Halloween
season and be set for the year.<o:p></o:p></div>
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We here at <b>The
Jade Sphinx</b> love Halloween, of course. But the co-opting of the holiday by
adults seems to hit a discordant note. Much like the vulgarization of classic
children’s properties like <b>Peter Rabbit</b>,
the infantilized adults we have become continue to pollute things ideally left
for children.<o:p></o:p></div>
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It seems as if we are hell-bent on ruining all the great
rituals of childhood because … we, as a culture, seem incapable of growing up
ourselves.<o:p></o:p></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-43012768578671110642017-09-26T13:07:00.002-04:002017-09-26T13:24:05.829-04:00Cultural Decay: The Trailer for Peter Rabbit<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqamQj7z3KUux4Ym9tuQ51dXaXOS4WqqRorOS_vLaGvuPARmoHEq2GBhJrtdfruM-gNnzcJ7VWYYjBred5hNfrGA7NzMJdJJLPUkTYHWdYcFQZpGUnuHCsZTQ08z_rrdaFgdMqrdd2sPDF/s1600/peter+rabbit.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" data-original-height="1200" data-original-width="630" height="320" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqamQj7z3KUux4Ym9tuQ51dXaXOS4WqqRorOS_vLaGvuPARmoHEq2GBhJrtdfruM-gNnzcJ7VWYYjBred5hNfrGA7NzMJdJJLPUkTYHWdYcFQZpGUnuHCsZTQ08z_rrdaFgdMqrdd2sPDF/s320/peter+rabbit.jpg" width="168" /></a></div>
<br />
Longtime readers of<b> The Jade Sphinx</b> know of our longstanding love for children’s literature. Now, Beatrix Potter’s classic tales of Peter Rabbit have been adapted into a new, animated film. Here is the trailer: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7Pa_Weidt08.<br />
<br />
Since this simply beggars description, I will simply remain silent.<br />
<div>
<br /></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-67779120653402692016-12-31T11:55:00.000-05:002016-12-31T11:55:25.684-05:00New Year's Eve at The Jade Sphinx<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqNGC0hv0Jjg0oy5xOajPMftpuYmvTPQlkZ_IVZLWImCZomIkp0Dptw13sRHbQ9k8JtRVNxvOKRTIXi9bso5xQ-Xj1NSPO-emMm06DRk8qspS0u4-xhf08gH-Aiclv0R-qJABkO7HcMzR/s1600/lone-ranger-and-tonto.gif" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiqqNGC0hv0Jjg0oy5xOajPMftpuYmvTPQlkZ_IVZLWImCZomIkp0Dptw13sRHbQ9k8JtRVNxvOKRTIXi9bso5xQ-Xj1NSPO-emMm06DRk8qspS0u4-xhf08gH-Aiclv0R-qJABkO7HcMzR/s400/lone-ranger-and-tonto.gif" width="307" /></a></div>
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<b>Toby Roan</b>, the
man behind the <b>50 Westerns From the 50s</b>
blog, graciously invited me to write a guest column on the <b>Lone Ranger</b>. <o:p></o:p></div>
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At the same time, I was thinking about a special Year End
column for <b>The Jade Sphinx</b>, and the
more I thought about both, the more they morphed together. So, please check Toby’s blog for a
special post by Your Correspondent. You
can find it here: <a href="https://fiftieswesterns.wordpress.com/2016/12/31/a-few-hundred-words-about-my-friend-the-lone-ranger-by-guest-blogger-james-abbott/">https://fiftieswesterns.wordpress.com/2016/12/31/a-few-hundred-words-about-my-friend-the-lone-ranger-by-guest-blogger-james-abbott/</a>.<o:p></o:p></div>
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Happy New Year to all my readers, and expect more of the
same in 2017.<o:p></o:p></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-31514798349558381632016-12-24T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-24T07:30:02.601-05:00Christmas Eve at The Jade Sphinx<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tPfCvwbE8Aetafl80PeZoN1Mpan8pAqJ92i4ByZblkM5USo855M4HuCi8LUf9T1i1uBOTpT4EzkC3Iz1IqcnoT5iuWNUz3oAxHv0RMNb3IiWuHmaANcBdto7og4wlx7d3hwlkkeL82Ew/s1600/20161216_002427.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi1tPfCvwbE8Aetafl80PeZoN1Mpan8pAqJ92i4ByZblkM5USo855M4HuCi8LUf9T1i1uBOTpT4EzkC3Iz1IqcnoT5iuWNUz3oAxHv0RMNb3IiWuHmaANcBdto7og4wlx7d3hwlkkeL82Ew/s640/20161216_002427.png" width="480" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">No time in all the Twelve Nights and
Days is so charged with the supernatural as Christmas Eve. Doubtless this is due to the fact that the Church
has hallowed the night of December 24-5 above all others in the year. It was to the shepherds keeping watch over
their flocks by night that, according to the Third Evangelist, came the angelic
message of the Birth, and in harmony with this is the unique Midnight Mass of
the Roman Church, lending a peculiar sanctity to the hour of its
celebration. And yet many of the beliefs
associated with this night show a large admixture of paganism.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
above is a brief excerpt from the magnificent<b> Christmas in Ritual and Tradition, Christian and Pagan</b>, by<b> Clement A. Miles</b>, first published in
1913. There is much to savor in this
book, but to me, my favorite passages deal with Christmas Eve. (You can find the entire book, for free, on
the invaluable Manybooks.net.)<b><o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Christmas
Eve has always been the cornerstone of my Christmas celebration. I was recently dining with a friend who
observed that one of the chief joys of Christmas, as we grow older, is
remembering Christmases past. When I do,
I find my mind returns again and again to Christmas Eve much more so than the
day itself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In my
household, the family exchanged gifts to one-another on Christmas Eve (while
‘the mother lode’ was delivered by Santa as we slept). This time always seemed more dear, more
special to us than Christmas morning.
Many souls now long gone spring to mind as I remember those nights, and
the phantoms of Christmas appear particularly bright. And there are little tokens everywhere that
litter my life from those Christmas Eves, even though the people are long
gone. I still have a beautiful
meerschaum pipe given to me by family members more than 30 years ago – the pipe
remains, but they themselves are just memories.
When I hold it on Christmas Eve, it is almost as if I can summon them
back, for a brief time, and be content in the moment and in the day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Earlier,
when I was a very young boy, my maternal grandmother lived with us. On Christmas Eve, by older brother William
and I would lie abed till all hours, wondering at what wonders were to come. We would sneak downstairs sometime around
2:00 a.m. or so, and find the gifts under the tree and the lights ablaze. My grandmother would always stir and sit upon
the stair and watch us, then admonish us to come back to bed. These moments – fleeting, human, yet magical
withal – are so much more important to me than the many happy memories of
Christmas Day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I think
this particularly memory resonates with me because it illustrates the … <i>complicity</i> with which we greet
Christmas. My brother and I were up all
night in league to see Santa; my grandmother watched from the stairs with a
benign twinkle, and Santa, well… Santa had been plotting all year long.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So, yes,
there is <i>something</i> about Christmas
Eve. Miles knew it 103 years ago, but
any child could tell you the same thing today.
It is almost as if a veil between ourselves and a more magical,
invisible world momentarily lifts, and we catch a glimpse of some inner
miracle. Christmas makes us more alive
with the expectation of some transcendence, or, more rightly, makes us see and
realize the miracle that has already taken place. The quiet, happy miracle of our own lives,
this is the spirit of Christmas time, not just the mirth and cheer we all
feel. It is deep and powerful magic that
even the most dull and inattentive can tap into. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">On
Christmas Eve, be attentive and tap into this spirit. Many of us will be fortunate enough to be
with beloved friends and family. But we
all know someone less fortunate—who has just lost a loved one, or for some
other reason is feeling alone. Reach out to those you love and cherish and let
them know how you feel; make Christmas Eve a memorable night for them, and you
make it one for yourself, as well.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">On this
Christmas Eve, we here at <b>The Jade
Sphinx</b> wish you a very Merry Christmas, and a happy, prosperous and joyous
New Year. If you have only one goal this
year, make it this: have fun with those you love.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-82590732223015905472016-12-23T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-23T10:44:27.778-05:00Best in Snow, by April Pulley Sayre (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_NqQ08ruzjwr2yA-A4xc8-3JeyZWjeg_nb6kDjyHWKJk29dj16zLVjtmFGxI0Lg_81_rtLFIdxFJmi8Ctm-yMpzVeUEal9ChNBYmzsMW-3owB4bwdG5x1mU6e9JJ5BnZKndvPKMwrSJG/s1600/best-in-snow-9781481459167_hr.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEh5_NqQ08ruzjwr2yA-A4xc8-3JeyZWjeg_nb6kDjyHWKJk29dj16zLVjtmFGxI0Lg_81_rtLFIdxFJmi8Ctm-yMpzVeUEal9ChNBYmzsMW-3owB4bwdG5x1mU6e9JJ5BnZKndvPKMwrSJG/s640/best-in-snow-9781481459167_hr.jpg" width="524" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Best is Snow</span></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";"> is a charming books of photographs
by <b>April Pulley Sayer</b> celebrating
the mysteries of snow. And what better
mediation for this, the Eve of Christmas Eve?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Sayre is
the author of a companion book<b>,
Raindrops Roll</b>. One imagines that
she was inspired to move onto snowier topics by living in South Bend, Indiana,
one of the snowiest cities in the United States.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The text
of Best in Snow is a study in brevity – this review alone would equal
three-to-four times as many words. But if
a picture is worth a thousand words, than this simple book speaks volumes. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Sayre
shows us photos of a variety of birds, squirrels and other animals as snow
gently drifts on idyllic sylvan scenes.
These are pictures of remarkable beauty and refinement, and are perfect
for a quiet evening before the fire … or even the radiator.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">In addition
to her animal photos, Sayre provides great shots of leaves, branches and ice
crystals, and she illustrates the effects of ice, water, cold and snow on natural, living things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cbO2yWZA112VeKRf-SNgIhDXp-62mfrHOAbuqntFOiTpum2SftP8ozV7OWHdmcIMMMedGnRXSMUDRJ6MUNj_-rYtxQ2vf5RUjeu-Dn1ZYraD2tLrrsQR-mIWB0ypb4EdVzoljdFl00bM/s1600/best-in-snow-9781481459167.in02.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="243" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi4cbO2yWZA112VeKRf-SNgIhDXp-62mfrHOAbuqntFOiTpum2SftP8ozV7OWHdmcIMMMedGnRXSMUDRJ6MUNj_-rYtxQ2vf5RUjeu-Dn1ZYraD2tLrrsQR-mIWB0ypb4EdVzoljdFl00bM/s400/best-in-snow-9781481459167.in02.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The final
two pages of the book are some fun facts about snow … some even obscure enough
to be a surprise to Your Correspondent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">This is
a great book for the winter-fans, snow-buffs and nature-lovers – not to be
missed!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">A Special Christmas Eve Message
Tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-11369730442977608132016-12-22T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-22T11:20:35.753-05:00Christmas Meat, by Charles Marion Russell (1915)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY21GS4Io_Lkh-M5uWi5qDB2xEF8lfKJoyv7X2cQCFIhF8mG8RZAQFHDS4QC1x9pWOBQ4jamY2zXjWEiMVlQIlfEa124QyBOQlfMZNJsPUqNEqnnPg8i3sB2fI5zF-Cnb3d8kF__z4lx6U/s1600/display_image.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="296" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhY21GS4Io_Lkh-M5uWi5qDB2xEF8lfKJoyv7X2cQCFIhF8mG8RZAQFHDS4QC1x9pWOBQ4jamY2zXjWEiMVlQIlfEa124QyBOQlfMZNJsPUqNEqnnPg8i3sB2fI5zF-Cnb3d8kF__z4lx6U/s400/display_image.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Though
it may not be <i>entirely</i> true that deep
in the breast of every aesthete beats the heart of a cowboy, it is certainly true
of Your Correspondent. Thoughts of
Christmas always seem to carry with them thoughts of the Wild West – it’s the
way my brain is wired. For many <b>Bing Crosby</b> is the voice of Christmas;
at <b>The Jade Sphinx</b>, it’s <b>Gene Autry</b>. (By the way, there is no better way to feel
elderly – if not prehistoric – than by trying to explain who Gene Autry was to
a young person.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We have
written about self-proclaimed ‘cowboy artist’ <b>Charles Russell</b> (1864-1926) before.
When we reviewed his letters and diary snippets, we were delighted to
learn how wonderfully boyish and enthusiastic Russell was in person. Russell never fully grew-up and he often
approached his life, like his art, with a child-like sense of wonder.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">So it
comes as no surprise that Russell loved the Christmas season. He would often retreat into his studio weeks
before the holiday, designing his Christmas card(s), writing letters to close
friends and oft-times painting a holiday-themed picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Today’s
beautiful watercolor, <b>Christmas Meat</b>
painted in 1915, is a picture of great warmth, despite the presence of
snow. In it, a Westerner brings a
fresh-killed stag to a lone homesteader for Christmas dinner. Russell painted many Christmas pictures with greater
whimsy (Westerners coming across Santa during a snowy night, for example), but
here he chooses instead to illustrate the holiday with a simple act of
kindness.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">In these
days of easy consumption and near-instant gratification, we forget the
every-day difficultly of the lives of previous generations. Distances in the West were vast; a simple
motor trip today would last several days on horseback. People were extremely isolated on the countryside,
with no phones, electronic entertainment, news, or, very frequently, neighbors. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Russell,
who went West in the waning days of the frontier, lived among the cowboys and
knew how isolated it could all be. But, he
also <i>loved</i> the West, and was
continually moved by the neighborliness, the open-handed generosity and many
acts of human kindness he encountered there.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Let’s
take a look at Christmas Meat. As always,
Russell’s command of anatomy is sketchy, at best (where, for example, is the
rest of the cowboy’s left leg?), but he more he is more than able to pose his
figures dramatically in the composition of narrative. The outstretched hand, the visible smile, the
bow-legs, and upheld rifle speak volumes – here’s Christmas dinner, pard, I got
it myself.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">And look
at the homesteader! Hand <i>in </i>his pants (so, clearly, a bachelor),
complete with pipe and red union suit underwear, this man is clearly a
character. And his head leans forward in
thanks, in appreciation, and admiration.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Marvel
at Russell’s sense of color. Blue is the
dominant color … and wonderfully suggests the cold. The frozen trees in the distance are just
impressionistic dabs of blue, as is the wooden smokehouse to the left. Even the smoke from the cabin’s fireplace has
a blueish tint … rest assured, it is cold outside.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Also,
Russell uses the mountains of his backdrop to illustrate the expanse of the
Western terrain. There is no one for
miles around; however, he undercuts the feeling of cold waste by a smart use of
yellow. The yellow light in the
distance, along with the warm yellow of the window and doorway of the cabin,
illustrate the warmth of human kindness at Christmas time.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The partially
cut wood in the foreground may seem superfluous, but Russell, a master of
composition, knew that something was essential there to keep the eye moving
through the picture. (It also serves to
illustrate the cold … the homesteader does not tread far to get his firewood!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">This is
a lovely little grace note of a picture, filled with honest feeling and a great
deal of warmth. It doesn’t descend into
the overly sentimental, and it shows people at their best.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">As such,
it makes for a hell of a Christmas picture.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">More Christmas books tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-61898542878777304902016-12-21T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-21T12:38:01.202-05:00Candy Cane Lane, by Scott Santoro (2016)<br />
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<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzxVT_1G4OxC5cdCHHF_Oni4vTkXJ4w-sTIjzIEYGCcI7am4-cmD_vl7LkMHWEsQKgmQLwdcaph0Dn6jBQ6fSst0pb2mYRnJN-22zWZ2HG4j3SvTWfXR1T6vPtAi4iMYnoy9pS2L2fqHo/s1600/81yVCdfeyiL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="328" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjzzxVT_1G4OxC5cdCHHF_Oni4vTkXJ4w-sTIjzIEYGCcI7am4-cmD_vl7LkMHWEsQKgmQLwdcaph0Dn6jBQ6fSst0pb2mYRnJN-22zWZ2HG4j3SvTWfXR1T6vPtAi4iMYnoy9pS2L2fqHo/s400/81yVCdfeyiL.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">One of
our favorite memories of Christmas 2016 will be having read <b>Candy Cane Lane</b>, by <b>Scott Santoro</b>, under our Christmas
tree. It is a delight.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Santoro
is the author and illustrator of <b>Farm-Fresh
Cats</b> and <b>Which Way to Witch
School? </b>He has also worked on
several animated feature films, including <b>The
Lion King</b>, <b>Spirit: Stallion of the
Cimarron,</b> and <b>Gnomeo and Juliet</b>. He is a great talent and deserves wider
recognition; it is our hope that Candy Cane Lane is the breakout holiday book
of the 2016 season, and that it reaches a wide readership.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The story
is about a little girl who lives on the eponymous street. Every house is a marvel of outlandish holiday
decoration, each lawn is more elaborate than the one proceeding it. Her house, however, is always empty, as her
father cannot afford fancy lawn ornaments.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Just before
Christmas, a mighty storm blows in, and the ornaments of Candy Cane Lane are
scattered everywhere. A plastic choirboy
ends up in the nearby trashbin, and she takes it for her own. Her pleasure is short-lived, however, when the
trashmen take it away.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Alone,
in the snowy city dump, the choirboy pines for Candy Cane Lane and the little
girl. He is befriended by a plastic,
illuminated reindeer, and, later, by a discarded Halloween ghost. They decide to join forces and find their way
back.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Lost,
they come upon the offices and showroom of Giant Displays, where they are
befriended by the plastic Giant out front, along with the scores of factory
rejects (like Green Santas or giftless Magi) who also need homes.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">What follows
is a parade of ornaments and over-sized product avatars seeking their own,
special Christmas refuge.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">It is
almost impossible to overestimate the charm of this book. The illustrations have a loose line and sense
of fun, and the coloration of the pages is stunning. Each page is filled with work that has real
forward momentum … many of the figures seem ready to fly off the page. Santoro also has the gift for capturing ‘glowing’
light, and, better still, the quality of light thrown off by Christmas lights
in the darkest of nights, against backdrops of snow.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">There is
also an antic sweetness to the book that irresistible. Perhaps it is Santoro’s background in
animation that makes so much of this book reminiscent of the animation style of
the <b>Little Lulu</b> or <b>Mighty Mouse</b> cartoons of the 1940s,
produced by <b>Famous Studios </b>and <b>Terrytoons</b>, respectively. </span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Like the best animated cartoons, it makes the
inanimate live, and shows us the interior lives of the objects around us. One could almost imagine a Big Band score to accompany
the illustrations – and Your Correspondents hopes that Candy Cane Lane becomes
a cartoon itself, some day. The book is touching
without being cloying, and smart without being knowing. In short, Santoro has created a little Master’s
Class in making the difficult seem easy, all with a wonderful vibe that is both
retro and timeless. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Candy
Cane Lane is a delicious confection – and our favorite Christmas picture book
of 2016. Bravo Santoro – and more,
please!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-28558097174502691012016-12-20T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-20T07:30:16.954-05:00The Night Gardener, by The Fan Brothers (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aj9uDzBYYSA15RoEYdvVQtxWvH-AzBJU5omAE-PuOZ_f_uKEAazwrdRROeJfqRBKInU1pFjF4GT5HvcYyQR3-E1nT5kzONiZsXAfmz18OHxe1TgInD5gDOkIC-DI7S66JCsy-2rZsQtT/s1600/opifan64-559751af1b025b9.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="280" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi6aj9uDzBYYSA15RoEYdvVQtxWvH-AzBJU5omAE-PuOZ_f_uKEAazwrdRROeJfqRBKInU1pFjF4GT5HvcYyQR3-E1nT5kzONiZsXAfmz18OHxe1TgInD5gDOkIC-DI7S66JCsy-2rZsQtT/s400/opifan64-559751af1b025b9.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">There
are so many great picture books for children this Christmas season that it’s
almost impossible to write about them all.
But there are a few standouts that demand particular attention, and we
will try to bring them top-of-mind this week.
(The number of excellent prose novels recently released for Young Adult
readers is equally impressive, and we will tell you about some of those before
the New Year rings in, we promise!)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">One of
the most original and delightful books to cross our desk this season is <b>The Night Gardener</b>, by <b>Terry Fan</b> and <b>Eric Fan</b>. These extremely
talented brothers are Ontario-based writers and illustrators, and The Night
Gardener is their best book to date.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The story
tells of life on Grimloch Lane. Life
continues apace, without much interesting seeming to happen. Young William notices, though, a mysterious
gardener steal by one night, a gardener who transforms an ordinary tree into a
magnificent topiary sculpture of an owl.
The neighborhood falls agape with wonder … and the mysterious gardener
continues to ply his trade, leaving these amazing wood-and-leaf sculptures in
his wake.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">William,
of course, promises to stay up one night and catch him in the act…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">There is
so much going on in The Night Gardener that adults will delight in unpacking
the story as much as children. The evocative
illustrations for this book were rendered in graphite, and then digitally
colored. Fortunately, the Fan Brothers
exercised as much restraint in the coloration process as they did with their
drawings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Grimloch
Lane in the early pages of the book is a fairly gray, monochromatic place. As the Night Gardener creates more and more
topiary art, the pages slowly and subtly infuse with color, reaching a full,
rich coloration at the end. But this is
never used to cheap effect; indeed, illustrations that take place in moonlight
are just as mysterious and creamy as they are subdued. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The drawings
themselves have a great deal of charm; they are mindful, in their way, of the
pen-and-ink work of <b>Edward Gorey </b>(1925-2000). But where Gorey was macabre and mordant, the
Fan Brothers are more mysterious and insinuating. The brothers have a happy knack of composition,
and the drawings are filled with witty details that catch the eye. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Any
attentive reader paging through the book will, again and again, return to the
word ‘subtle.’ We are told very little about
William, but there is a picture of his parents on his windowsill. We never learn anything about them, and it
was not until my second page-through that I noticed that the building he leaves
at one point is an orphanage. And our
gardener seems to sculpt his animals based on whatever animals happen to be in
the neighborhood. And who are the
mustached, hat-wearing twins in nearly every group drawing? Could it be the Fan Brothers, themselves?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">But just
as interesting as the illustrations are, the story is even more
compelling. Are the Fan Brothers
offering a parable on the affect that art has upon us, or a story of
transferring intergenerational expertise?
Is it about the soul-crushing effects of ugly neighborhoods and urban
blight, or about the restorative effects of engaging in the arts? Is it a meditation on seasonal changes, or a
commentary on created families?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">This is
a book with no easy answers, but many earned pleasures. The Night Gardener is sure to intrigue both
children and adults with its subtle drawings, evocative narrative, and hidden
clues. A gem!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-27845389996263021602016-12-16T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-16T07:30:14.243-05:00Christmas Carols Part III: Away in a Manger<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtmsmmqIOa1PNCvIE51kkBpFBp7WYmbr5vPKcjA_L0VWtxAGgFU1RPJFytGXFKA0KcvJWRLC_2fJNccxPQdqpqiTh0frKWv48UYkJJYZ4fpQBzFVi6qOUOXt65Mkh-T8bEA4k6whlyZ1jF/s1600/0186%253D180.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhtmsmmqIOa1PNCvIE51kkBpFBp7WYmbr5vPKcjA_L0VWtxAGgFU1RPJFytGXFKA0KcvJWRLC_2fJNccxPQdqpqiTh0frKWv48UYkJJYZ4fpQBzFVi6qOUOXt65Mkh-T8bEA4k6whlyZ1jF/s400/0186%253D180.jpg" width="360" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Away in a Manger</span></b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"> is one of Your Correspondent’s
favorite carols, probably because it is the only one he can sing in
(approximate) key… It also presents
something of a Christmas carol mystery.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Though many
have attributed Away in a Manger to <b>Martin
Luther</b> (1483-1546), there are no documents in any way connecting it to
him. Indeed, there are no German
manuscript documents of that vintage that make reference to the carol, at all. (There are no German texts, in fact, prior to
1934 that reference the tune.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Most
scholars now believe that this lovely carol is entirely American in
origin. The first two verses of the
lyrics were published under the title <b>Luther’s
Cradle Song</b> in the November 1883 issue of <b>The Sailors Magazine and Seamen’s Friend </b>(claiming authorship to
Luther); with another article in the May 1884 issue of <b>The Myrtle</b>, with the same lyrics and the same claim. Prior to that … no trace of it exists.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
first known musical setting was published in the Evangelical Lutheran Sunday
School collection, <b>Little Children’s
Book for Schools and Families</b>, in 1885, under the title Away in a Manger. The third verse was written some time later,
by <b>Dr. John T. McFarland</b>, secretary
of the New York Board of Sunday Schools, between 1904-1908. It has been in use ever since.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Away in a manger, no crib for a bed,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The little Lord Jesus laid down his
sweet head.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The stars in the bright sky looked
down where he lay,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The little Lord Jesus asleep on the
hay.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The cattle are lowing, the baby
awakes,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But little Lord Jesus, no crying he
makes.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I love thee, Lord Jesus! look down
from the sky,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And stay by my cradle till morning
is nigh.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Be near me, Lord Jesus; I ask thee
to stay<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Close by me forever, and love me I
pray.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Bless all the dear children in thy
tender care,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And take us to heaven to live with
thee there.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A particularly
lovely recording by the late John Denver can be found here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9SZKjOJrgg">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v9SZKjOJrgg</a><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-75473559613179047472016-12-15T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-15T07:30:00.164-05:00Christmas Carols Part II: The First Noel<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">One of
our favorite, traditional English Christmas carols is <b>The First Noel</b>. (Noel is an
Early Modern English synonym for Christmas.)
There are many, many excellent recordings, but perhaps our favorite is
that of <b>Bing Crosby</b> (1903-1977),
which can be heard here: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLaHb9raSfU">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yLaHb9raSfU</a>. (Oddly enough, this wonderfully evocative
Christmas recording was cut on May 11<sup>th</sup> in that long-ago year of
1949.)<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The carol
tells of the Annunciation to the Shepherds and their adoration of the Christ
child. Oddly enough, the Star of Bethlehem
does not appear in the Biblical books that also mention the adoration of the shepherds. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The
carol is Cornish in origin, and was first published in <b>Carols Ancient and Modern</b> (1823) and <b>Gilbert and Sandys Carols</b> (1833), edited by <b>William Sandys</b>. The version
you hear today is usually the four-part hymn arrangement by the English composer
<b>John Stainer</b> (1840-1901), published
in <b>Carols, New and Old</b>, which
appeared in 1871. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The
First Noel has a fairly unusual melody in that it consists of one musical
phrase repeated twice, followed by a refrain which is a variation of that
phrase. All three phrases end on the
third of the scale.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The first Nowell the angels did say<br />
Was to certain poor shepherds in fields as they lay;<br />
In fields where they lay, keeping their sheep,<br />
On a cold winter's night that was so deep:<br />
Refrain<br />
Nowell, Nowell, Nowell, Nowell,<br />
Born is the King of Israel.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">They looked up and saw a star,<br />
Shining in the east, beyond them far:<br />
And to the earth it gave great light,<br />
And so it continued both day and night:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">And by the light of that same star,<br />
Three Wise Men came from country far;<br />
To seek for a King was their intent,<br />
And to follow the star whersoever it went:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">This star drew nigh to the
north-west;<br />
O'er Bethlehem it took its rest;<br />
And there it did both stop and stay<br />
Right over the place where Jesus lay:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Then entered in those Wise Men three,</span><br />
Full reverently upon their knee,<br />
And offered there in his presence,<br />
Their <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Gold" title="Gold"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">gold</span></a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Myrrh" title="Myrrh"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">myrrh</span></a> and <a href="https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Frankincense" title="Frankincense"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">frankincense</span></a>:<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Then let us all with one <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/accord" title="wiktionary:accord"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">accord</span></a><br />
Sing praises to our heavenly Lord<br />
That hath made heaven and earth of <a href="https://en.wiktionary.org/wiki/nought" title="wiktionary:nought"><span style="color: windowtext; text-decoration: none; text-underline: none;">nought</span></a>,<br />
And with his blood mankind hath bought.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-57008137156023348612016-12-14T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-14T07:30:19.619-05:00Christmas Carols Part I: The Sussex Carol<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHT7kxIsKvkeR_ntOXPtLMkXBTpCQAQ_fFMoyKUsW8DJkEJ3tRwhAs9MZt4venf0iwb2UT8yykkYlHx5RPuCyenpOuYPec5U9TBAubm0BTrlVXK6ZeOPLQ0SI3MIzp4L1nkTbKOGDqOlQk/s1600/George+C+Scott+Edward+Woodward.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiHT7kxIsKvkeR_ntOXPtLMkXBTpCQAQ_fFMoyKUsW8DJkEJ3tRwhAs9MZt4venf0iwb2UT8yykkYlHx5RPuCyenpOuYPec5U9TBAubm0BTrlVXK6ZeOPLQ0SI3MIzp4L1nkTbKOGDqOlQk/s400/George+C+Scott+Edward+Woodward.jpg" width="306" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We will
look at some of our favorite <b>Christmas
Carols</b> this week as we gear up in anticipation of Christmas. (Hurray!)
I would like to open with a little-known and less-appreciated carol, <b>The Sussex Carol</b>. If you are unfamiliar with it, click hear to
listen to a wonderful rendition: <a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZm2NsZnJHE">https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yZm2NsZnJHE</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Your Correspondent
had somehow never heard this, despite a lifelong devotion to the holiday, until
1984, when the tune serves as the centerpiece for the <b>George C. Scott </b>television adaption of <b>A Christmas Carol</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The,
however, is very popular in Great Britain, and is sometimes called <b>On Christmas Night All Christians Sing</b>. The words to the carol were first published
by <b>Luke Wadding</b>, a 17<sup>th</sup>
Century bishop, in his book, <b>Small
Garland of Pious and Godly Songs </b>(1684).
It is uncertain whether or not Wadding is the actual author of the tune.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The text
and tune were later rediscovered by <b>Ralph
Vaughan Williams</b> (1872-1958), who heard it sung by <b>Harriet Verrall</b> of Monk’s Gate, near Horsham, Sussex. (It is Williams who dubbed the tune The
Sussex Carol). The tune generally heard
today is the one heard by Williams as sung by Verrall, and published in 1919.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Vaughan
Williams included that carol in his <b>Fantasia
on Christmas Carols</b>, first performed during the Three Choirs Festival at
Hereford Cathedral in 1912. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">On Christmas night all Christians
sing</span><br />
To hear the news the angels bring.<br />
News of great joy, news of great mirth,<br />
News of our merciful King's birth.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Then why should men on earth be so
sad,</span><br />
Since our Redeemer made us glad,<br />
When from our sin he set us free,<br />
All for to gain our liberty?<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">When sin departs before His grace,</span><br />
Then life and health come in its place.<br />
Angels and men with joy may sing<br />
All for to see the new-born King.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">When sin departs before His grace,</span><br />
Then life and health come in its place.<br />
Angels and men with joy may sing<br />
All for to see the new-born King.<o:p></o:p></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I love
this carol first of all for the melody. It
seems so joyous and spritely … one could almost imagine it as something played
at a Renaissance Faire as much as a Christmas tune.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Another theme
that I continually return to in listening to Xmas music is that of listening. So many Christmas carols exhort us to listen …
to the angels, to the settling of snow, to the mysteries of the Invisible
World. Not only that … but that the
Invisible World is a place of both joy and mirth.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I would
hope that readers would consider incorporating The Sussex Carol into their
Christmas listening this season.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-24081829582169347132016-12-13T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-13T07:30:21.420-05:00Interview with William Todd, Author of A Christmas Coda (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It’s not
often that a Christmas book crosses our desk as smart, as moving and as ornate
as <b>A</b> <b>Christmas Coda</b>, by <b>William
Todd</b>. We were lucky enough to read
and review his new book last week, and even luckier when Mr. Todd graciously
consented to an interview.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A
Christmas Coda is a sequel to Charles Dickens’ <b>A Christmas Carol</b>, and is a worthy addition to the Scrooge
mythos. It has excited a great deal of
interest among Dickens scholars and Carol enthusiasts alike, and is well on its
way to becoming a holiday classic in its own right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Here
Todd responds to our questions….<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Can
you tell us a little about yourself and your career?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I was
born in 1960 in Detroit, Michigan, and spent the first couple decades of my
life doing non-writing stuff. So let's
start at age 23, when I moved to Los Angeles to begin my first job (of any type,
ever) as an aerospace engineer.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Like a
lot of new hires, my first couple weeks on the job were basically "free
roam," where not much is really expected of you except learning how to use
the copy machine. That's how I found
myself one day sitting in my office with a bunch of other new hires, shooting
the breeze, until someone raised one of those "Book of 1000
Questions" type of questions, which was:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">"If
wages were no object, and you could do ANYTHING you wanted to do with the rest
of your work life, what would it be?"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">To my
surprise, I started hearing such answers as "I'd play the saxophone"
or "I'd race boats" (which I didn't even know was a career
option!). But an even bigger surprise
was that not one of the new hires in my office, aerospace engineering majors
all, said, "I'd build the best spaceship ever" or even "I'd
become the head of NASA...”<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...including
me - which was by far the BIGGEST surprise of all.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">You see,
I'd grown up loving the world of entertainment - books, plays, and especially movies
and TV. But I'd also grown up in
Michigan, about as far away from the centers for these activities as you could
get, geographically and psychologically.
Entertainment as a career path was never even remotely on my realistic
radar. I was good at school. I was good at math and science. An engineering career was a guaranteed job
back then. Why aerospace?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I loved <b>Star Trek</b>. That should have been a clue.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Instead,
I did what I was expected to do. I got
my degree (or two), got my guaranteed job, moved out to the Promised Land...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...and
for the first time, stared down the barrel of 50 years doing this. And, as embarrassed as I am to admit it,
waiting my turn to answer the "Book of 1000 Questions" question, not
having ever REALLY considered what I'd REALLY like to do with those 50 coming
years.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And as
it turned out, somewhat to my surprise (and somewhat not), the answer wasn't
"to become the best damn engineer I could."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So what
DID I want?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And
that's how, within a month of graduating from college with two aerospace
engineering degrees, and within a week of moving my life out to Los Angeles...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...I
started writing scripts. After
work. Every night.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And
didn't stop until I finally sold one, four years later.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Yep, my
self-administered "university education" on How To Become A Writer
was four straight years of just doing it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Which,
of course, turned out to be only the beginning...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">What
was it about A Christmas Carol that told you that it needed a sequel?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A Christmas Carol</span></b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"> has always been my favorite
Christmas story. Especially Act Three,
where the reborn Scrooge awakens on Christmas morning. I love this part so much that I often watch
just this sequence from several of its many movie adaptations, all in a row,
for the simple shared joy of it. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
there have always been lingering questions.
And for years, like the spirits that haunted Scrooge, these would
occasionally visit me:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">- How
did Scrooge help Tiny Tim to walk again?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">- Could
there be any chance for Scrooge to redeem lost love?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">- How
could Scrooge ever repay a debt of the magnitude he owed Jacob Marley?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Inevitably,
these led to speculative musings (most often in the shower, a writer's greatest
think tank!) and the eventual forming of answers, image by image and scene by
scene.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It took
years. Literally. But there finally came a time when the
enterprise as a whole elbowed its way to the fore and said, "It's
time."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And so I
began what would be, for me, the most difficult thing I ever wrote in my entire
life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Are
there any real-world events that make a sequel to A Christmas Carol
particularly pressing at this time?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Yes. And no.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And
forgive me, because my intention is not to waffle, but to hope that <b>A Christmas Coda</b>, like <b>A Christmas Carol</b> before it, is more
universal in nature, rather than tied to any specific place, time, or
event. Certainly, there are things in
the real world today that beg a re-acquaintance with "goodwill toward men,"
just as there were very real issues in Victorian times that coincided with the
motions of Dickens pen. But these are
universal, ongoing, human issues, not fixed in time, as the longevity of
Dickens tale instructs.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
economic realities of Scrooge’s world are pretty bleak; have we come far
enough? Have we lived up to the ideals
of The Carol?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We can
never - and will never - "come far enough"...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...but
that doesn't mean we should stop trying.
I'll broaden the point philosophically to say, there will always be evil
in the world, just as our goal should always be to completely eliminate it -
even though we know that to be impossible.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We'll
never completely "live up to the ideals of The Carol" because that
would involve an end point, a state of flawlessness in an inherently flawed
universe. But this is not a matter of
despair, because fighting the good fight is what our lives are all about: It gives us meaning.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">[And
before anybody beats me to it, yes, I'm the guy who wrote the original <b>Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles</b> movie!]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So
much of A Christmas Carol and A Christmas Coda are about redemption, and then
making good on that redemption. Why does
redemption resonate with you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I think
it relates to the above: Trying your
best to be as good as you can be, inevitably failing to achieve any ideal
standard, but finding that it's never too late to do better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I’m
delighted that Jacob Marley is such a large presence in A Christmas Coda, even
though he doesn’t appear onstage. What
is the heart of the Marley Paradox, for you?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I'm not
sure what the "Marley Paradox" even is! But I'll give it a shot:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
thing that always bugged me the most about <b>A
Christmas Carol</b> was the idea that Jacob Marley, the guy who moved (presumably)
heaven itself to save a friend, was himself never saved, but instead, forever
condemned to chains, and in his own wailing words, "doomed to wander
through the world—oh, woe is me!—and witness what [I] cannot share, but might
have shared on earth, and turned to happiness!"<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">That's
not fair! That's not right! Scrooge got a second chance...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...why
not Marley???<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And thus
the seed of a sequel was sown...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">What
is it about A Christmas Carol that has made it such a classic? Is it the story? The character of Scrooge? Or something else?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">If only
the S.A.T. had been this easy--<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">e.) All of the above!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And,
yes, more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
mostly, I believe, is its message of Redemption:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It's
never too late - for anyone - to change for the better.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Take
THAT, Relentless Focus On The Negative In Modern Culture!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
can imagine that someone who wrote A Christmas Coda is a fan of the
holiday. What are your thoughts and
feelings on Christmas?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I've
always loved Christmas. It's been my
favorite holiday ever since childhood, when I actually experienced the magic of
a Midwestern winter morning transformed by the kindness of parents into a
warmly glowing treasure hunt initiated by siblings in knit pajamas well before
the rise of the sun, tearing open package after package of colorfully wrapped
gifts, piled 'neath a twinkling tree... made of aluminum.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
thought it the most beautiful thing in the world. I used to lie under it at night reading
Archie Christmas comic books, staring up at the ornaments, slowly changing hue
from the rotating color wheel with its ratcheting metal plate and blindingly
hot floodlight bulb that could only exist in a fairy-tale era before OSHA.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
gifts are the very least of it for me now.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I love
it for the music, and the food, and, yes, the fact that people at least try to
experience it as "a kind, forgiving, charitable, pleasant time".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In other
words, I love it for a lot of the same reasons Charles Dickens did.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">How
do you envision Scrooge? Is there an
actor or interpretation you had in mind while writing your novel?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
sometimes envision a specific person (such as an actor, but not always) as a
physical model when writing a script, and it was (perhaps too) easy to let <b>Alastair Sim</b> slip into the role of
Scrooge, given that the 1951 film version of <b>A Christmas Carol </b>has become all but canon amongst movie
adaptations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Certainly,
in the opening sequence of <b>A Christmas
Coda</b>, Mr. Sim was much in mind, right down to the whooping of his
post-salvation laugh, since his interaction with Mrs. Dilber was purposely
reminiscent of the scene in the 1951 movie (which does not exist in Dickens'
novella) where she threatens to "scream for the beadle".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Soon
thereafter, however, I abandoned all physical reference to Scrooge, even the
original <b>John Leech</b> illustrations,
in favor of the original character Dickens described, and thus available to be
cast to the particular taste of any reader, in their own mind's eye.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Do
you have a favorite adaptation of A Christmas Carol?<o:p></o:p></span></i></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Actually,
no. Not even what seems to be the
consensus pick for "Best Adaptation," which, as mentioned above, is
the 1951 Renown Pictures version starring Alastair Sim.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">As
alluded to farther above, I tend to judge <b>A
Christmas Carol</b> adaptations by their third acts, and each has its strengths
and weaknesses.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A particular
strength of the 1951 version is the scene in which Scrooge goes to his nephew
Fred's house on Christmas Day to finally accept his annual dinner invitation.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">[An
aside: In an example of just how much
people love that 1951 movie version of <b>A
Christmas Carol</b>, and for anyone who might particularly appreciate a story
of heroic research, there is the tale of "Fred's Maid". She appears in a scant 42-second scene in
which she answers the door to Scrooge, and silently encourages him to enter the
party. This actress didn't have a single
word of dialogue, and is nowhere credited in the film, but she became such a
beloved character to many over the years that she eventually sparked an
internet hunt for her identity. Only
recently has the mystery been solved! If
anyone cares to, you may read about it here:
<a href="http://dickensblog.typepad.com/dickensblog/2013/05/meet-the-maid-an-interview-with-theresa-derrington-cozens-hardy.html">http://dickensblog.typepad.com/dickensblog/2013/05/meet-the-maid-an-interview-with-theresa-derrington-cozens-hardy.html</a>]<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">There,
he encounters Fred and his wife, a woman he had heretofore refused to acknowledge
(previously thinking it a bad match - financially) and, in one of the most
emotional scenes in the entire movie, asks forgiveness. And all to the strains of "Barbara
Allen" - quite the concentration of weepy emotion in and of itself!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Similarly,
the 1984 movie adaptation starring George C. Scott finds its deepest emotional
resonance in that very same scene, Scrooge literally capping it with, "God
forgive me the time I've wasted."<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I love
these scenes. Perhaps best of all. And the most fascinating thing about them is
this:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">These
moments DO NOT EXIST in Dickens' original "A Christmas Carol".<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Instead,
he wraps up the entire Fred visit in barely half a page:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In the afternoon he turned his steps
towards his nephew’s house. He passed
the door a dozen times, before he had the courage to go up and knock. But he
made a dash, and did it:<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Is your master at home, my dear?”
said Scrooge to the girl. Nice girl! Very.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Yes, sir.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Where is he, my love?” said
Scrooge.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“He’s in the dining-room, sir, along
with mistress. I’ll show you up-stairs, if you please.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Thank’ee. He knows me,” said
Scrooge, with his hand already on the dining-room lock. “I’ll go in here, my
dear.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He turned it gently, and sidled his
face in, round the door. They were looking at the table (which was spread out
in great array); for these young housekeepers are always nervous on such
points, and like to see that everything is right.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Fred!” said Scrooge.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Dear heart alive, how his niece by
marriage started! Scrooge had forgotten, for the moment, about her sitting in
the corner with the footstool, or he wouldn’t have done it, on any account.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Why bless my soul!” cried Fred,
“who’s that?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“It’s I. Your uncle Scrooge. I have
come to dinner. Will you let<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">me in, Fred?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Let him in! It is a mercy he didn’t
shake his arm off. He was at home in five minutes. Nothing could be heartier.
His niece looked just the same. So did Topper when he came. So did the plump sister
when she came. So did every one when they came. Wonderful party, wonderful
games, wonderful unanimity, won-der-ful happiness!<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And now,
a Sacrilege:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I
actually like the movie versions of the Fred scene better than Dickens'
original. To me, they resonate with far
more emotion.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But
before you gather pitchfork and torch and set GPS coordinates for my home
address, pause a moment, as I once did, to consider that perhaps some good can
come out of this realization...<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">...because
for me, it was a sign that I, too, might dare extrapolate the work of The
Inimitable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Or that
you, perhaps, could actually enjoy it.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">My fond
hope, of course, is that you will.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">For my
dearest hope is that <b>A Christmas Coda</b>,
like The Carol before it, will become a small part of YOUR love of the
Christmas season - blessed to Dickensian fullness--<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">With
Tidings of Comfort and Joy,<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif"; font-size: 11.0pt; line-height: 115%; mso-ansi-language: EN-US; mso-bidi-font-family: "Times New Roman"; mso-bidi-language: AR-SA; mso-bidi-theme-font: minor-bidi; mso-fareast-font-family: Calibri; mso-fareast-language: EN-US; mso-fareast-theme-font: minor-latin;">William Todd</span>James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-21036064385018168012016-12-09T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-09T11:09:15.804-05:00The Little Wizard Stories of Oz, by L. Frank Baum (1914)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKgsLcBorgedNV-g4SuhCqbxgUcl1yJAUhWtRV6ImoEzB-cmIYP1Xh04j-BJpe2n6da5DUk3IThnu6NS4D9LoLZPJcpmBGlaoX3cl__fNOtRch2InLKpfoptSSS_Mj8SOaO_jAVaH8TmU/s1600/Little-Wizard-Stories-of-Oz-SDL535309991-1-9d5e1.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgzKgsLcBorgedNV-g4SuhCqbxgUcl1yJAUhWtRV6ImoEzB-cmIYP1Xh04j-BJpe2n6da5DUk3IThnu6NS4D9LoLZPJcpmBGlaoX3cl__fNOtRch2InLKpfoptSSS_Mj8SOaO_jAVaH8TmU/s400/Little-Wizard-Stories-of-Oz-SDL535309991-1-9d5e1.jpg" width="341" /></a></div>
<br />
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We have
never taken a prolonged look at the corpus of Oz books by <b>L. Frank Baum</b> (1856-1919) and that is something we will do in
2017. They are perhaps the most
important and accomplished work of sustained fantasy in the 20<sup>th</sup>
Century (take that, <b>J.R.R. Tolkien</b>!),
with the first six books in the series being especially delightful. We will fix his absence in these pages soon.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">As an
appetizer, and considering the holidays are upon us, I thought I’d take a look
at the only collection of short stories in the Oz canon, <b>The Little Wizard Stories of Oz</b>, written in 1913 and collected in
1914, with illustrations by the greatest of the Oz artists, <b>John R. Neill</b> (1877-1943).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The stories
were conceived by Baum and his publisher, Reilly & Britton, and were intended
for publication in little booklets for each story (each costing 15 cents). The Oz books were traditionally written for
middle readers – ‘tweens,’ in today’s lexicon – while these short stories were
created for very young readers. Baum and
company hoped to generate interest in Oz at a very early age, and continue to
promote Baum and all of his books into a brand name for kiddie lit.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Because of
the younger audience, Baum tones down a bit of the irony and pun-play found in
his longer books, and the plots are significantly less intricate. But taken on a level of simple fun and games
in the land of Oz, these stories are unbeatable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">There are
six stories in the book, with three of them being particularly charming. In <b>The
Cowardly Lion and the Hungry Tiger</b>, both big cats are bored standing guard
at the throne of Ozma, princess of Oz.
The Hungry Tiger would particularly like to eat a little baby, while the
Cowardly Lion is eager to maul some innocent.
They leave the castle and promptly come upon a lost baby and, later, the
distraught mother – both ripe for consuming and mauling. The self-deceptions they use to avoid
creating mayhem are hilarious, and very human.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Jack Pumpkinhead and the Sawhorse</span></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";"> shows two of our favorite
characters from the later novels work together to save a boy lost in the
forests of Oz. This is particularly grand
because Baum always tried to work out the absurdities of Oz to their most
logical conclusions…. For example, since neither Jack nor the Sawhorse sleep,
when night comes, they simply stand by the side of the road till daylight. (A somewhat disquieting image.) And when Jack’s pumpkin head is spoiled, he
must go headless until he gets back home.
There is more than enough to delight any child with a sense of whimsy here.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The Scarecrow and the Tin Woodman</span></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";"> features, perhaps, the two most
famous characters in the series. When the
two friends go boating, the Tin Man falls overboard. He lies at the bottom of the riverbed, his
tin stuck in the soft earth. The
Scarecrow would save him, but his straw would not allow him to submerge. The two finally escape with the help of some
low comedy crows, but things get significantly better when the Wizard himself
shows up.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The other
stories, <b>Little Dorothy and Toto</b>, <b>Tiktok and the Nome King</b> and <b>Ozma and the Little Wizard</b> are all
fine, and worthy of attention.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The book
is available online, but can also be gotten in a low-cost hardcover reprint
from <b>Books of Wonder</b>, complete with
the original illustrations. Their Web site
is: <a href="http://www.booksofwonder.com/">http://www.booksofwonder.com</a>. For the Oz completest, or to introduce younger
readers to the world Oz, it makes for amusing reading.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<br /></div>
<br />
<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-41708110993438093952016-12-08T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-08T07:30:35.878-05:00Framed! A T.O.A.S.T. Mystery, by James Ponti (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">For anyone
actively engaged with children’s literature and Young Adult fiction like Your Correspondent,
the challenge isn’t in finding the good, but in keeping up with all that is
good (and great). I am constantly amazed
at the high quality of the books that come across my desk, and marvel at what a
Golden Age this is for the medium.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Case in
point – <b>Framed! A T.O.A.S.T. Mystery</b>
by <b>James Ponti</b>. I approached this book with trepidation,
expecting just another juvenile mystery in the <b>Hardy Boys</b> vein. What I found
instead was a novel that is smart, beautifully constructed, and often
screamingly funny. Framed! ranks as one
of the best books I’ve read this year – either for adults or young
readers. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Framed!
is all about Florian Bates, a 12 year old who recently moved to Washington, DC,
with his art conservator mother and museum-security specialist father. Bates is an extraordinary boy in that he has
an uncanny knack for noticing things, and making educated suppositions based on
tiny facts. He calls his method TOAST,
or the Theory Of All Small Things.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He meets
his neighbor, Margaret, and promises to teach her the TOAST technique. She is a more than adept pupil, and is quickly
matching Florian deduction-for-deduction.
While providing her with TOAST training at DC’s National Gallery, their
observations lead them to believe that something shifty is afoot. When key Impressionist paintings are stolen
from the museum, his deductions bring him to the attention of the FBI, who, realizing
themselves how outlandish it all is, bring Florian onto the case.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Framed! often
reads like a Young Adult version of the popular series <b>Sherlock</b>; and it shares with that series an almost beatific regard
for the lead’s deductive powers, and the comedic interplay between the lead
characters. Author Ponti really makes
the entire notion of TOAST come alive.
It is essentially a riff on <b>Sherlock
Holmes’</b> famed powers of observation and deduction, but Ponti makes a point
of walking us through Florian’s mental gymnastics as they occur, rather than
explaining afterwards. It is an
effective twist.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<div class="MsoNoSpacing">
<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The novel
begins with Florian kidnapped by the Romanian mafia, and then trying to
remember the lessons of his hostage survival course provided by the FBI. When he comes face to face with the criminal
kingpin, Florian makes another key deduction, which then leads to a book-long
flashback explaining how he got into this fix.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Perhaps
one of the most fascinating things about the book is Ponti’s regard for Florian’s
intellectual prowess. There are many
(many!) books where young protagonists rely upon magic or science fictional
ideas to succeed; Florian is a creature of the mind and exults in his
intelligence. More, please!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">One minor
quibble, not that any of the younger readers would make note, is that in Ponti’s
world, the FBI is a benevolent entity filled with agents of real integrity who
are focused on justice, rather than a highly politicized entity spying on innocent
Americans. Given a tracking chip by the
bureau (with a promise never to spy on him), I feared that young Florian would
grow up to spend his adulthood in hiding with <b>Edward Snowden</b>…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But real-life
disappointments have little to do with this marvelously realized book. It is fabulously addictive from the very
opening. For example, here is Florian
talking to his Romanian kidnapper (with a very uncertain grasp of English)
while trying to ply his hostage training:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Survival Step 2 – Disrupt Your
Captor’s Train of Thought<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Do you mean ‘not wrong’ as in <i>I’m</i> not wrong in what I’m saying? Or ‘not wrong’ as in <i>you’re</i> not wrong in whom you kidnapped?”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I waited for a response, but all I
heard was a low, frustrated growl. I
assumed this was his deep-thinking noise.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“If you don’t use pronouns, it
really makes the conversation hard to follow.
You need to say ‘<i>You’re</i> not
wrong’ or ‘<i>I’m</i> not wrong.’ Especially in a situation like this with
threats and demands. The wrong pronoun
could have someone else ending up with your ransom money, and that wouldn’t be
good for either one of us.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Not wrong!” he barked again as if
saying it louder suddenly solved the grammar issues. Just then he swerved to avoid another car,
blasted his horn, and yelled what I assumed were choice Romanian curse
words. I figured he was distracted
enough for me to start inching toward my backpack.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Don’t feel bad,” I continued. “I understand how hard it is to learn a new
language. My family moves all the
time. I’ve had to learn French and
Italian. It’s <i>molto difficile. </i>That’s
Italian for ‘very difficult.’”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Stop talk!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“That’s a perfect example of what I
mean. You said ‘stop talk’ but it should
be ‘stop talking.’ English is so
complicated. But let’s forget about
grammar and get back to you kidnapping the wrong person. Like I said, it’s an easy mistake and easy to
fix. If you let me go, I promise not to
tell anyone. Just drop me off at the
nearest Metro station.”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">“Shut mouth or else!”<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The “or else” was ominous, and
combined with the continued lack of pronouns it reminded me of the third step
from my training.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Survival Step 3 – Do Not Antagonize
Your Captor<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">(When I told Margaret about the steps,
she couldn’t believe this wasn’t first.)<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This is
a delightful book and comes highly recommended.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-11716184506740456742016-12-07T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-07T07:30:21.063-05:00A Christmas Coda, by William Todd (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJbNRaMiVjOHhh4mjBXDTPGd21PScAT2ofmPHZRoaXePgmZqoJHJA5KxwFK1fvSGjmJ2J9T9zQHq8PkDqkfjXtOyEuQ0Ao7KmZAL01a93wodr5kRWl8Id3e0-lTqqOTeenNcPxGc_a70K/s1600/51qnqxJ%252BBLL.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjDJbNRaMiVjOHhh4mjBXDTPGd21PScAT2ofmPHZRoaXePgmZqoJHJA5KxwFK1fvSGjmJ2J9T9zQHq8PkDqkfjXtOyEuQ0Ao7KmZAL01a93wodr5kRWl8Id3e0-lTqqOTeenNcPxGc_a70K/s400/51qnqxJ%252BBLL.jpg" width="246" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Regular
readers of <b>The Jade Sphinx</b> know of
the central place <b>Christmas</b> holds in
my life, and the paramount importance of <b>Charles
Dickens’</b> <b>A Christmas Carol</b> in my
personal philosophy and worldview. To
Your Correspondent, <b>Ebenezer Scrooge</b>
is not just a fictional character, but a friend, an example, and a terrible
lesson all-in-one. The book is my
secular liturgy, my heart-laid-bare, the best reflection of my best self. People who wish to reimagine or write a
sequel do so at their peril.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">There have
been many continuations of A Christmas Carol since 1843, many of them created
in Dickens’s own lifetime. Most of them
have been dire. We have seen Scrooge and
<b>Sherlock Holmes</b>, Scrooge and
Cratchit taking on corrupt businessmen, a grown Tiny Tim involved in
international conspiracies, Scrooge and zombies... Sigh.
There have also been several serious literary visitations to Scrooge: for
example, <b>Robertson Davies</b> (1913-1995),
one of the great voices of 20<sup>th</sup> Century letters (if not <i>the</i> great voice), wrote a continuation
of A Christmas Carol which is utterly indigestible. It is almost as if the Christmas Cosmos
created by Dickens is too big, too intimidating, too … <i>honest</i> for other writers to approach on an equal level.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">So, it
was with some little trepidation that I approached <b>A Christmas Coda</b>, just e-published by author <b>William Todd</b>. Trepidation
entirely unjustified, as Todd has written a wise, moving and wonderful book,
fully in keeping with both Dickens and the Carol, and a worthy literary achievement
in its own right.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In Todd’s
novel, it is exactly one year since the events of A Christmas Carol. Scrooge is as good as his word, and has become
as good a friend, as good a master, and as good a man as he possibly can. But … the thing that most occupies him is
repaying his debt to <b>Jacob Marley</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Readers
versed in the Carol will remember that the visitation of the mighty Christmas
Ghosts and Scrooge’s redemption were all at Marley’s intervention. While Scrooge has his reclamation, poor
Marley is doomed to walk forever fettered in chains, witnessing what he cannot
share, but might have shared on earth, and turned to happiness. Scrooge is determined to alleviate the
otherworldly suffering of his late friend.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">To do
this, he creates The Jacob Marley Foundation to help those who need it
most. He also practices personal
philanthropies, such as sponsoring the surgeon who cures Tiny Tim, creating an
annual Fezziwig Ball, and helping dozens of the needy on London streets.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The linchpin
of the novel is Scrooge’s association with a young businessman, Midas
Stump. Stump – rapacious, consumed with
gain, unthinking of the human toll his ambitions would take – is much like the
younger Scrooge. Scrooge hopes to reform
him while helping the Jacob Marley Foundation; this task becomes more urgent
when he learns that Stump is engaged to the daughter of the woman he loved in
his youth, Belle. To achieve his ends,
Scrooge must assume the tasks of the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present and Yet-to-Come
to save a young soul, and relieve another in torment, but without supernatural
aid.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It is
nearly impossible to say enough good things about this book. Todd assumes a sustained Dickensian diction
and prose line that is surprisingly successful.
The new characters – Stump and his assistant, Pockle, for instance –
come wonderfully to life. (Todd also has
a knack for Dickensian names.) But best
of all, Todd understands Scrooge and the others from the original novel with a
humane, novelist’s empathy. Here is
Scrooge talking to Tim, <b>“You see, Tim,
sometimes we get used to things that aren’t good for us. It becomes hard to imagine living any other
way. But we can be shown, by those who
care, how to walk a better path. To change.”<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">One of
the most interesting things in Dickens’ original novel is the sense of …
ritual. Scrooge, before his reclamation,
does many things by route and habit. In
Todd’s novel, that remains; he has, to some extent, fetishized his experience
with the Ghosts into his own secular ritual.
He wants Tim to walk specifically on Christmas Eve, as explained here: <b>Scrooge
made straightaway to Tim, still in his father’s arms. “You see Tim,” he began, in earnest chord, “that’s
why I arranged the doctor’s visit today.
Christmas Eve is very special to me.
I wanted it to be just as special for you. For us all.
Every one.”</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This is
great stuff; true characterization without shtick or caricature and, mercifully
and blessedly free of irony. Better still
is the climactic scene with Scrooge and Stump at the gravesite of Jacob Marley
on Christmas Eve – Scrooge, avenging angel, merciful father and very human man
all at the same time. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Todd <i>gets</i> Scrooge – which is wonderful, as so
many do not. The popular reading of A
Christmas Carol is that it’s a parable against greed – but that is a complete
misreading of the text. Scrooge is not
damned because he’s a miser, or even because he is a business shark – he’s
damned because he has cut himself off from his own humanity and the humanity of
others. His soul was barren – he filled
it up with business and gain, but it could’ve been alcohol or sex or anything
else, and the effect would have been just the same. He lost the fact that all of our actions
affect those around us, and to be uncaring of other people and their fates has profound consequences. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">That is
the Scrooge that Todd gives us, not the <i>bah,
humbug</i> cartoon so often served up. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Readers
who love Christmas tales – and you know who you are – will also find little
Easter eggs strewn throughout the book.
Scrooge’s nephew Fred, who has no last name in Dickens, is christened
Gailey by Todd – the name of the lawyer in <b>Miracle
on 34<sup>th</sup> Street</b>. There are
also a few lines that reference that other great holiday icon, the <b>Grinch</b>.
But these references never become jokey or dumb; they are merely there
for the eagle-eyed to spot.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I cannot
recommend this book enough. It is only available
– inexplicably – in e-copies. (Why was
this book not published by a mainstream house?)
You can find it on Amazon here: <a href="https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Coda-Will-Todd-ebook/dp/B01LDWH7BS">https://www.amazon.com/Christmas-Coda-Will-Todd-ebook/dp/B01LDWH7BS</a>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"><br /></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Buy this
book.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Buy this book now.</span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;"> </span><span style="font-family: Verdana, sans-serif;">Buy this book now and read it today – and God
bless us, every one.</span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-22699141052254516122016-12-02T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-02T07:30:33.167-05:00Hap-Pea All Year, Written and Illustrated by Keith Baker (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoL_lDb9fTYJcEN7Rhrxfpz8uehw6Sd1CZpSDv9sVTKgfhRNbaRik8joT4t77L-q14MKtHevFv23xq44yYQg6q7BluweN3aZtkIcsnDDYsJL1c756P9YgbDQ4KBsqjv6dgF8bmnfXbyuX/s1600/20161130_111234.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjZoL_lDb9fTYJcEN7Rhrxfpz8uehw6Sd1CZpSDv9sVTKgfhRNbaRik8joT4t77L-q14MKtHevFv23xq44yYQg6q7BluweN3aZtkIcsnDDYsJL1c756P9YgbDQ4KBsqjv6dgF8bmnfXbyuX/s400/20161130_111234.png" width="225" /></a></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Hap-Pea All Year</span></b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";"> is a charming and delightful book for
very young readers. Following his
previous books about peas (which took the peas through letters, numbers and
colors), writer and illustrator <b>Keith Baker</b>
now provides a snappy walk through the year, blithely illustrated with hap-pea
peas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Each of
the 12 months is showcased in a two-paged, double-spread illustration, showing
how the peas enjoy each month. There’s
snow in January, Valentines in February, and camping out under summer skies in
July. The simple paintings are fecund –
crammed with detail and amusing incident, each with little ‘pocket’ stories of
isolated action.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Hap-Pea
All Year is for young readers (under eight), but parents will not find it a
slog. In fact, adults will get nearly as
much fun pointing to the various elements of each painting, and helping
underscore the various delights that can be found in each month.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Hap-Pea
All Year is a book of beguiling sweetness and delicious simplicity. It comes highly recommend to anyone with
young children, and should inspire new readers to pick up Keith Baker’s earlier
titles. </span></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-32269943159526219482016-12-01T07:30:00.000-05:002016-12-01T07:30:14.243-05:00The Marvelous Thing That Came From a Spring: The Accidental Invention of the Toy That Swept the Nation, by Gilbert Ford (2016)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wIHV5sp16ryFSsgOq6xA9c4mMR2Gyq56xyqz8jyYTBRWMwxGQecDzsJroOGiQ7Gap0VQtIfxhcsYG1HKa5QZAb-BP8VmrZ-y1Q45d3N3AC8DLMdOkm_moTOgmO6cpucfgk8Q7VDjtG5m/s1600/20161130_111158.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="400" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj1wIHV5sp16ryFSsgOq6xA9c4mMR2Gyq56xyqz8jyYTBRWMwxGQecDzsJroOGiQ7Gap0VQtIfxhcsYG1HKa5QZAb-BP8VmrZ-y1Q45d3N3AC8DLMdOkm_moTOgmO6cpucfgk8Q7VDjtG5m/s400/20161130_111158.png" width="225" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Every
now and then Your Correspondent comes across a new picture book and the
response is simply – <i>gosh, that’s
terrific</i>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I can’t
help myself; <b>The Marvelous Thing That
Came From a Spring: The Accidental Invention of the Toy That Swept the Nation</b>,
by <b>Gilbert Ford</b>, is simply
fantastic. It has been on our coffee
table for several days now, and I’ve been unable to resist it. People come over, and I show it to them – it’s
<i>that</i> delightful.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The story
– and it’s true – is simple enough. It
tells the story of engineer <b>Richard
James</b>, who creates a new toy, the <b>Slinky</b>,
in the 1940s. He and his wife take out a
loan to manufacture a bunch of them, and he manages to sell out his entire stock
at a demonstration in Gimbels right before Christmas.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The
business continues to grow, and the James’ move from manufacturing Slinkys on
their own, to buying a factory and mass producing them. Following the war, the Slinky became a staple
for emerging Baby Boomers – I know, I had one myself. Mrs. James would eventually run the business
herself, moving it into its greatest period of popularity and sales.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">For Your
Correspondent, one of the great joys was the flood of memories the book
inspired. I remember my older brother
William and I ‘walking’ our Slinky down the stairs as soon as we got it, or how
my brother Thomas and I would sing the jingle whenever it was on television:<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">What walks down stairs, <o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Alone or in pairs,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">And makes a slinkity sound?<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A spring,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A spring,<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A marvelous thing.<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Everyone knows it’s Slinky<o:p></o:p></span></b></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The text
by author/illustrator Gilbert Ford is simple and straightforward. But where the book really shines is the
wonderfully inventive mode of illustration.
Ford created a bunch of cut-out figures and props, and then mixed them
with actual miniature props (tables, toys, shelves, etc.) to create dioramas. These dioramas were then beautifully
photographed by <b>Greg Endries</b> (who
must share equal accolades for the success of the book) to create the final
effect. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It is
this mixture of illustration, diorama and photography that makes the book so
beguiling. The resulting photos are
unlike anything you’ve seen in children’s picture books, and are great fun. The book is great for children, their
Generation X parents, and their Baby Boomer grandparents. Enjoy!<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-1682021463833069302016-11-30T07:30:00.000-05:002016-11-30T07:30:31.109-05:00Truth or Dare: Five Girls, One Summer, Many Secrets, by Barbara Dee<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPiqLu1pu_a59MpxIlq-rdEj1ZI2musliTeYFfW7jU-LgdwNN8uuLiOM6t1-Sd4bJ4JV_lGQL3cUFYuxftzu12HPhWp61hTZCxP6fRss1nrwK01mdGgVuTfiM_tN6322A9nWYh-xvIMWX/s1600/20161129_172000.png" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjcPiqLu1pu_a59MpxIlq-rdEj1ZI2musliTeYFfW7jU-LgdwNN8uuLiOM6t1-Sd4bJ4JV_lGQL3cUFYuxftzu12HPhWp61hTZCxP6fRss1nrwK01mdGgVuTfiM_tN6322A9nWYh-xvIMWX/s640/20161129_172000.png" width="360" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We are
starting a two-week long look at children’s books here at <b>The Jade Sphinx</b>, which seems especially pertinent now that the
Christmas holidays are upon us. What
astonishes us is not the sheer fecundity of new books hitting the shelves this
season, but the extremely high quality of the offerings.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We start
with the newest by <b>Barbara Dee</b>,
author of <b>The (Almost) Perfect Guide to
Imperfect Boys </b>and <b>Drama Queen</b>. When not writing Young Adult novels (her next,
<b>Star-Crossed</b>, is slated to appear in
spring 2017), she directs the Chappaqua Children’s Book Festival. She lives in Westchester County, and you can
dip into her blog at Fromthemixedupfiles.com.
<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Her
latest, <b>Truth or Dare: Five Girls, One
Summer, Many Secrets</b>, Dee tells a story that is touching and remarkably
real. The novel tells of Lia, who
manages to overcome the grief of losing her mother in a car crash, thanks to
her friendship with four other girls.
The girls – Marley, Abi, Makayla and Jules – and Lia return from
vacation on the cusp of seventh grade and find that their relationships have subtly
altered. They have become competitive
and mistrustful of one another; and after a prolonged game of Truth or Dare,
Lia finds herself lying to keep up with them.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Her lies
are the result of many things: creeping peer pressure, dissatisfaction with
herself, and the need (so vital to young people) to define who she is. On top of all that, Lia must deal with the
many people who try to help her now that her mother is gone, and reconcile her
feelings for her aunt, who has come to the family’s aid, but who many disregard
as slightly crazy.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Dee
includes touches that work wonderfully well.
The aunt, for example, is pretty ‘out there.’ But Lia learns that her eccentricities do not
mean she isn’t a valuable member of the family, or that she doesn’t have a lot
to contribute. An interesting twist on
this all is a neighboring Mom (mother of one of the girls who bullies Lia), who
coordinates the neighbors in helping care for Lia’s family. The neighbor is engaged and actively kind,
but over-bearing and difficult. In fact,
she bullied Lia’s aunt when they were children, and young Lia sees how this
behavior can be inherited, and how it affects generations.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Dee’s
novel is not a big book in that it does not deal with huge events or
earth-shattering crises. But the
smaller, intimate vibe of the tale is its greatest strength: this is a slice of
life that all of us have experienced in one way or another.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Dee
writes of the disorientation that comes with puberty, peer pressure, lying to
ourselves (and others) to create a persona, and, most importantly, finding
friends who like us for how we are, and not what we seem or wish to be. Dee’s novel is wise in its simplicity, penetrating
in its psychology, and engrossing in its raw emotion. This is a model Young Adult novel.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Here is
Lia, after concocting her first lie: <b>I’d like to tell you that I didn’t sleep
that night, and that all of Sunday I squirmed and blushed when I thought about
the lie I’d told my friends. But here’s
the truth – by the next morning I felt proud of myself. The tiny green bud of the lie – <i>I kissed Tanner</i> – had bloomed into a
gorgeous pink flower overnight, a great big peony I could keep in a vase in front
of me and take whiffs of whenever I felt left out of the conversation. <i>I
kissed Tanner</i> wasn’t the truth as a statement of What Actually Happened to
Me That Summer, but it was a different kind of truth – a statement of What Was
Going on Inside My Brain, how all of a sudden I could come up with the details
(the walk on the beach, the fifteen-second kiss, the closed eyes). I mean, I’d never even <i>thought</i> of stuff like that before, ever. Not about myself, anyway. So I felt excited, and maybe a little bit
scared, about my new power.<o:p></o:p></b></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">If you
know young people who are putting together the narrative of their lives,
Barbara Dee’s Truth or Dare would make a wonderful addition to their book
shelves.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-32379369601113505952016-11-24T07:30:00.000-05:002016-11-24T07:30:00.175-05:00Thanksgiving at The Jade Sphinx<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeSOGyU8W0pWkqMYGnJYGFC6d-UwlINGnM-J-2oSsvR_w4aY0IsOnpFTI29e_KIdFJfODhcAIoh_rgJBqkVl_cq3BkwbtihPAWtS-TnaMbC2GZitKZN_ghYiiN0GN6146P9bELVRq6TPl/s1600/motherSon.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiYeSOGyU8W0pWkqMYGnJYGFC6d-UwlINGnM-J-2oSsvR_w4aY0IsOnpFTI29e_KIdFJfODhcAIoh_rgJBqkVl_cq3BkwbtihPAWtS-TnaMbC2GZitKZN_ghYiiN0GN6146P9bELVRq6TPl/s640/motherSon.jpg" width="510" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">It seems that I have penned a
special Thanksgiving holiday note since the inception of this blog; but,
somehow, I missed last year. My diaries
are currently in storage, and my memory is not up to the task of going back a
whole 365 days. What the devil was I
doing last year? So, now the pressure is
on to be particularly memorable this year…<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">In reviewing what I wrote in previous
years, I seem to always say that the country is in a perilous state, that
things seem particularly dire this year, and that I don’t know how we’ll
overcome it all. But, it’s our
responsibility to be happy, to be thankful, and to fully realize the quiet miracle
of our lives every day.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Not doing that this year, and here’s
why.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">News flash: we are <i>always</i>
on the brink and things are <i>always</i>
trending to disaster. I’ll be jiggered
if I’m going to haul that hoo-haw out again this year, because I think pointing
out the negatives in our lives doesn’t do us a whole lot of good. So, yeah, things are terrible, it seems no
one is happy with the election (even the winner), and the world as we know it
is changing so fast, no one knows what to hold onto. It was much the same last year and will be
much the same next year. Been there,
wrote that.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Instead, I’m going to tell you what I’m
happy about. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I’m happy to be an American, and
delighted to now be a Californian. We
may not always be satisfied with the way our government and institutions work,
but they <i>do</i> work and that is more
than can be said of many countries. The
sunny little beach town I now call home after more than four decades in Gotham
has reminded me again and again of the simple decency of most people, of
forgotten arts of friendliness and neighborliness I had lost in the Big City,
and demonstrated that nature has the upper-hand on us, and not the other way
around. I am surrounded by good people,
and I wouldn’t have it any other way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">I am happy that I continue to be
moved by beauty. The dangerous thing
about spending too much time with people who make a career of the arts is that
one can stop feeling an emotional response to them. I am delighted to say that I still gulp
before masterful paintings, am still heady after great novels, and can laugh or
cry at music. (My taste tends to run
towards the <b>Great American Songbook</b>,
which always puts me in mind of <b>Noel
Coward’s</b> wonderful putdown: <b>Strange
how potent cheap music is.</b>) I am
delighted that this blog has everything from <b>Michelangelo</b> to <b>Charles
Schulz</b>, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Finally, I’m glad to have faith in
America and Americans. Patriotism was
never popular among most of my friends; any positive sentiments towards the
country are mostly met with ironic dismissal or sneering condescension. (A gift from the 1960s.) But I think we are a great people, or, at
least, we try to be. I don’t know the
future of our land any more than you, but I do know that Americans are capable
of great things, great kindness, and unity.
That last quality – unity – has been in fairly short supply in recent
years, but I think it will make a remarkable resurgence in the months and years
to come. We can but hope, and I wouldn’t
have it any other way. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This Thanksgiving, make it a point
to greet your family, friends and neighbors as people, and not as units of some
political philosophy. Love and nurture
each other, and remember to be kind and ethical. And, finally, remember to be thankful. Thanks for the many blessings in your life,
the bounty of the world around you, and for the quiet, ineffable mystery of
your own existence.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-83582182997602640732016-11-23T07:30:00.000-05:002016-11-23T07:30:23.272-05:00Ernest Henry Schelling, Drawing by John Singer Sargent (1912)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">We continue our brief look at
drawings by <b>John Singer Sargent</b>
(1856-1925) with this terrific drawing of <b>Ernest
Henry Schelling</b> (1876-1939). I am
enjoying these drawings so much that perhaps we will come back to them after
the holidays.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Schelling was an American pianist,
composer and conductor. He was principal
conduct of the <b>Baltimore Symphony Orchestra</b>
from 1935 to 1937, and was also a composer of note. He wrote for the piano, orchestra and chamber
ensembles, but most of his work is now forgotten. His major success was a symphonic poem, <b>Victory Ball</b>, based on the anti-war
poem by <b>Alfred Noyes</b>, which was a
success in early electrical recordings, recorded by the <b>New York Philharmonic Orchestra</b>.
He was also the first conductor of the <b>Young People’s Concerts</b> of the New York Philharmonic, a tradition
most famously carried on by Leonard Bernstein.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Schelling was married twice; he
married <b>Lucie Howe Draper</b> in 1905,
and remained with her till her death in 1938.
In August, 1939, he married his second wife, <b>Helen Huntington Marshall</b>, when he was 63 and she was 21. A member of the venerable Astor family,
Marshall and Schelling would remain together only four months: he would die of
a brain embolism in December 1939.
Marshall was at his bedside at his death.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">There are many things to love about
this drawing. First, look at how Sargent
uses the paper itself as a drawing tool.
The paper has a high rag content, giving it more “tooth.” This allows the paper to capture more of the
charcoal dust. (My former teacher,
artist <b>Ephraim Rubenstein</b>, once told
me that drawing in charcoal was “rearranging dust.”) The charcoal also has a harder time of
reaching the deeper ridges of the paper, which gives some charcoal drawings a
luminescent quality.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">If you look really closely, you can
also see the paper-maker’s monogram (Michaellet) to the left of Schelling’s
head.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Now, look at Schelling’s hairline,
right over the bridge of his nose.
Sargent captures the flow and direction of his hair with a few very bold
and very dark lines, the rest is just a dark mass (probably rubbed in with the
artist’s finger), and lighter highlights were created by using an eraser. On the right side of the picture, Sargent
suggests Schelling’s hair against the dark background by simply applying the
charcoal more lightly – there is no “hard” line to separate the figure from the
background. Simple, elegant and
effective.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Look at Schelling’s jawline going
down the left side of the canvas. You can
actually see one or two initial lines Sargent made before deciding on his final
line; he also offsets the very hard line of Schelling’s chin by erasing the
line of his head (probably by using his thumb – the mark looks about
thumb-size).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Schelling’s mustache is more
suggested than rendered. If you look
closely, you’ll see that it is a swatch of dark charcoal with a few outgoing
directional lines to make it flow. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Sargent makes the eyes limpid and
alive by applying the eraser to pupil to create a sense of reflected
light. He also suggests depth and delineates
the eye sockets at the same time with a single, strong line over each
eyelid. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">He also manages to create Schelling’s
costume with a few unfussy lines (notice how one shoulder is almost
invisible). <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This is a little master’s class in
how it’s done. Anyone interested in
drawing – as artist or aesthete – can learn much from a close examination of
the work of John Singer Sargent.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">A
special Thanksgiving message tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-27665770874523574072016-11-22T07:30:00.000-05:002016-11-23T02:39:27.424-05:00Drawing of Kenneth Grahame by John Singer Sargent (1922)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKtiNV9KCTXZO3_-owblMSfSx0pHf00OU45blx-OLhlZXF6f7RbWbk1Bo440bT3nsB8KNWp25U3SUiZck4yqD0EHvLR0nog_A4cXla9U4pjF0XR3xqpEjr6WRu4AQnw2VhwEju1vspdLd/s1600/db4d4d73f649b7167fa070b9d564f801.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="640" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhdKtiNV9KCTXZO3_-owblMSfSx0pHf00OU45blx-OLhlZXF6f7RbWbk1Bo440bT3nsB8KNWp25U3SUiZck4yqD0EHvLR0nog_A4cXla9U4pjF0XR3xqpEjr6WRu4AQnw2VhwEju1vspdLd/s640/db4d4d73f649b7167fa070b9d564f801.jpg" width="448" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Though it takes us by complete
surprise, this week is Thanksgiving; and with that means the holidays are upon
us, ready or not.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">I wanted to start the season with
something that resonated with the child within us all, without yet fully
embracing the holidays. Who better than <b>Kenneth Grahame</b> to meet the need?<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We here at <b>The Jade Sphinx</b> think one of the greatest classics of English
literature is a novel for serious children and frivolous adults, the
magisterial <b>Wind in the Willows</b>
(1908), by Kenneth Grahame (1859-1932).<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Willows, like most of Grahame’s
oeuvre, focuses around ideas of escape: Rat and Mole spend their boyish
bachelorhood picnicking along the riverbank, simply “messing around in
boats.” His book the <b>Pagan Papers </b>(1893), is about the joyous
sense of freedom he had in his youth (and, by comparison), the lack of such
freedoms he had in adulthood.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">This is not surprising considering
Grahame’s tumultuous life. He was born
in Edinburgh, Scotland. His mother died
when he was five, and his alcoholic father gave young Kenneth and his brothers
and sister to the children’s grandmother, in Cookham in Berkshire. Grahame loved the countryside there, and it
was there that he was introduced to the pleasures of boating. These years in Cookham would be remembered as
the happiest of his life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Following his years at St. Edward’s
School in Oxford, Grahame wanted to attend Oxford University. He could not do so, his guardians claiming
that it was too expensive. Instead, this
sensitive and introverted boy was sent to work at the Bank of England in 1879,
where he rose through the ranks until retiring as its Secretary in 1908. The reason for his retirement was that an
anarchist broke into the bank and shot at Grahame three times, missing each
shot. The incident forever shattered his
nerves; he would move back to the country in an effort to find peace.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Grahame published his first book,
The Pagan Papers, in 1893. He would
follow this with his first two great novels about children, <b>The Golden Age</b> (1895) and <b>Dream Days </b>(1898). He would not write again until after marrying
<b>Elspeth Thomson</b> in 1899. They had one child, a son named Alastair
(nicknamed Mouse), born blind in one eye and plagued by various mental
problems. Grahame would tell Mouse
stories about the woodland denizens around them. These stories would eventually morph into
Wind in the Willows.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Sadly, the stories provided only a
limited amount of succor to Alastair, who would commit suicide by lying on a
railway track two days before his 20th birthday. The train would completely sever the boy’s
head from his body, and Grahame was called to identify the remains. The sight would haunt him for the rest of his
life.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">John
Singer Sargent</span></b><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">
(1856-1925) was one of the greatest, and most prolific, of <i>fin de siècle</i> artists. A
gifted portraitist, Sargent was also painter of many magnificent landscapes, a
champion draughtsman and watercolorist, and he also painted the mighty frescoes
found in the <b>Boston Public Library</b>
and the <b>Museum of Fine Arts, Boston</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">We will look at Sargent’s life in a
little more detail tomorrow, but for now: after a lifetime of painting some of the
finest portraits of his generation, Sargent painted less and drew more as he
grew older. He found drawing a release
from painting; providing him with much the same sense of freedom Grahame had
sought all his life. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Sargent was able, with a stick of
charcoal, to capture the essence of his sitter in a few hours (sometimes … a
few <i>minutes</i>), relieving him of the burdensome
process of multiple sittings and coloration. There are dozens of Sargent
portrait drawings … and after the holidays, we’ll look at a few more.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">But now, look at how Sargent masterfully
captures Grahame. Drawn in 1922, just
two years after the suicide of Alistair, here is a man who was shot at in more
ways than one. His face has an austere
quality, which is not surprising as he was reported to be emotionally distant …
but what Sargent captures more than <i>distance</i>
is <i>disguise</i>. Grahame’s
mouth is large and sensual, his chin strong and resolute. But both of these features are hidden by an
enormous walrus mustache; these were not uncommon in Edwardian men, but one
feels that Sargent knew that the point was concealment and not fashion. Half of Grahame’s face is in shadow, as if he
would hide from us, if he could.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">In terms of technique, it’s amazing
what Sargent can accomplish with a few simple strokes. His drawing is never fussy or overdone; the scattered
quality of Grahame’s hair is suggested with some powerful strategic strokes,
his shirt and jacket survive as just the barest outlines. The planes of his face have been roughed-in
with some hatching on the side of his charcoal, but the wonderful (and
evocative!) lower lids of his eyes have been caught out with eraser. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">The entire picture is a little
master’s class in quick portraiture, and it tells us a great deal about the
genius behind The Wind in the Willows. A
sad and tragic man is here, revealed by Sargent’s incomparable skill.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<i><span style="font-family: "verdana" , "sans-serif";">Another
Sargent drawing tomorrow!<o:p></o:p></span></i></div>
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James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-4753948402075174201.post-1021228073396763912016-11-18T07:30:00.000-05:002016-11-18T07:30:13.515-05:00The Last Command: Custer and the 7th Cavalry at the Little Bighorn, by Kirk Stirnweis (2001)<div class="separator" style="clear: both; text-align: center;">
<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvivJ_Hbc1W22Ikoyi1igyiuHcTvL5FTUaa5-V_b6p5_1I8sUDI3ExODXbjac2SOikiPlW0yRHLdGZ7lHN4D8S5FAmr9vzpLk4FldQI0v8i2AmtZPBCbrlLh3CrfCwsBxGgrDaBG4x2U3/s1600/the-last-command-kirk-stirnweis.jpg" imageanchor="1" style="margin-left: 1em; margin-right: 1em;"><img border="0" height="216" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiFvivJ_Hbc1W22Ikoyi1igyiuHcTvL5FTUaa5-V_b6p5_1I8sUDI3ExODXbjac2SOikiPlW0yRHLdGZ7lHN4D8S5FAmr9vzpLk4FldQI0v8i2AmtZPBCbrlLh3CrfCwsBxGgrDaBG4x2U3/s400/the-last-command-kirk-stirnweis.jpg" width="400" /></a></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">The dramatic defeat of <b>Gen. George Armstrong Custer</b> at the
Little Bighorn in 1876 has been the subject of several paintings by major
artists. But for today, I thought we
would take a look at a work by the relatively little-known, working artist <b>Kirk Stirnweis</b> (born 1967), <b>The Last Command: Custer and the 7<sup>th</sup>
Cavalry at the Little Bighorn</b>.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Stirnweis was born in Suffern, New
York, and grew up in Connecticut. He would eventually move with his own family
to Montana, Arizona, and then back east to New Hampshire; while keeping a
foothold in Loveland, Colorado. His
father was a professional illustrator, and his mother had a background in
graphics. He drew constantly as a child,
and his family would often discuss art around the home.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">During his high school summers, Stirnweis
would draw and paint at the nearby Silvermine Artist Guild. During the same period
he studied anatomy with a retired surgeon, taking one of the doctor’s first
classes working with professional artists. Stirnweis was taught to master composition
by copying the works of the Great Masters, and was encouraged to go into
illustration to hone his skills to a professional level.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Kirk was educated at several different
schools studying marine biology and medicine, holding degrees in radiologic
sciences and Medical imaging. But his scientific studies did not keep him from
art: immediately after high school he did illustration for Field& Stream,
Harlequin Romance Novels and Leisure Books, and the Danbury Mint. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Stirnweis says, <b>For the past 20 years I have been painting and sculpting
western/historical subjects, mostly Native Americans, mountain men, prairie
women, land and seascapes nautical subjects and wildlife of all kinds. Out of
the blue I was commissioned to paint Custer’s Last Stand at the Little Big Horn;
a daunting task. To complicate matters I had virtually no knowledge of U.S.
cavalry at the time and only scant knowledge of the battle. After months of
intensive research, hours spent with experts on the subject and several visits
to the battlefield; I started painting. Three months later I completed The Last
Command. The homework was exhaustive but well worth it, the painting had reaped
the distinction of being written up by a West Point graduate and historian as:
“The most accurate depiction of the Custer Battle EVER!” An enlarged Copy of
the painting now hangs in the renovated Museum of Military History in KS.
Subsequently, I was invited to the 125th anniversary of the Little Big Horn
Battle, where I met with Native American Veterans of Foreign Wars and Chiefs of
the Crow Nation. They expressed their appreciation for the noble way that I
depict their culture in my paintings and sculpture.</b><o:p></o:p></span></div>
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This is quite a dramatic painting, despite some rather telling flaws. While Stirnweis has a great gift for painting
dramatic faces, the figures all seem to inhabit different pictures, rather than
act as an integrated group. Indeed, in
some figures, it seems as if they have no lower body whatsoever. (Where is the rest of the bugler and his
horse?) Also under-realized are the two
fallen horses, one on the left and the other, right. Neither seem to fully inhabit the picture,
and it looks like Stirnweis relied too heavily on tall grass to address issues
of foreshortening.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">But Stirnweis’ failings are solely
those of technique: in terms of drama and composition, he performs
admirably. The gentle rise of the
mountain allows the eye to read the frame from the fighters on the left, through
the main action on the rise, and then scan back left (to the beginning) by
following the trajectory of the arrows.
Stirnweis also uses the empty bask spaces of the West to heightened effect: aside from another regiment battling in the
distance, these men are alone and vulnerable.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">Stirnweis also amps the drama by
depicting many of the men already wounded or injured, but continuing to fight
on. The look of steely determination on
the faces of the small knot of five men dead center of the picture tells the
entire story. <o:p></o:p></span></div>
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<span style="font-family: "Verdana","sans-serif";">This is an admirable addition to the
iconography of Little Bighorn.<o:p></o:p></span></div>
James Abbotthttp://www.blogger.com/profile/16542728058203964856noreply@blogger.com0