Reading Aloud

I recently attended a webinar by Andrew Pudewa, founder of the Institute for Excellence in Writing, also known as "the funny man with the wonderful words." Mr. Pudewa is indeed a funny man who presents an engaging approach to teaching language arts at home and in the classroom. We are about to start our second year of IEW, but I'm not here to talk about homeschooling exactly.

The webinar was about how to develop a broad vocabulary in children, and one of the best ways to do this is to read aloud. Now, as a busy mom, I had kind of gotten to the point where reading aloud was losing priority because our oldest can read- he finished the Harry Potter series in a matter of days. Surely that is improving his vocabulary, right? Well, it turns out, just reading is not as magical as I would have thought. So, after about an hour with Mr. Pudewa (or just Pudewa as he is known around our house), I realized I needed to be reading aloud to all my children. And not just Go, Dog, Go for the zillionth time.

Next I was faced with the task of picking the best titles to read to three children, ranging from 3 to 8 years old, with a variety of interests. The oldest loves magical adventure stories, while the middle is easily frightened. The younger two don't flinch at death, while the oldest is compassionate. I wanted to include strong female characters, too. So from the bookshelf, I selected our first (even though we've done this before) Read Aloud:

The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, C. S. Lewis

Before I started reading, I explained to my daughter that this is one of my favorite childhood books. I told her that sometimes she reminds me of Lucy. I left out the part about pretending to be Lucy when I was a child, but it's true.

The story is not overly complicated. Four children stumble upon a magical kingdom where the White Witch has cast a spell that makes it always winter and never Christmas. The children meet talking animals and magical creatures on an adventure that lasts a lifetime or only a few seconds.

Girl-child is the only one who sat through the entire reading, but something I caught Oldest-boy standing in the hall listening in. Everyone followed the story well enough, even the 3-year-old. There were plenty of new words to absorb; I was occasionally stopped to define one. But overall, it was understood enough to make a story. There are, of course, subtleties in the writing (Spare Oom, for example) that the children will not appreciate until they read this one on their own. But we had fun reading it together- summarizing, making predictions, and imagining how we might find our way to Narnia.

As I mentioned before, this is one of my favorite childhood books, so it earns a permanent place on the bookshelf with (surprise) five Marias. But in addition to the rating, I want to encourage parents and teachers to read aloud, even to children who can read. It has made a subtle, positive impact on our days and is now one of the things I look forward to the most.

Chapter 32: A Book Set at Christmas (Thanksgiving)

A Swiftly Tilting Planet, Madeline L'Engle

I'm fudging this one a little. The challenge says Christmas, but I read one that takes place Thanksgiving Day instead. Sue me.

Planet is the third in L'Engle's Time Trilogy, which became a Quartet then Quintet. But the central characters of the first three are the same, those of the following two are not.

It's been years since we last met Meg, Calvin, and Charles Wallace. Meg and Calvin are now married and Charles Wallace, a teenager, is constructing models of a tesseract. The whole Murray family has convened for a traditional holiday dinner together, when father gets a disturbing call from the president.

Thus begins Charles Wallace's journey through time to see if it is possible to change one moment to affect change in the future. Unlike butterfly effect theories, Charles Wallace, with the help of Meg via kything, seek to pinpoint and alter one tiny moment to save the future without changing everything else.

Through their mental and spiritual connection, Meg watches as Charles Wallace travels through the genealogy of Mad Dog Branzillo, looking for the right moment to rescue the future. For now I will ignore the moral and ethical criticisms of the novel and just focus on what I specifically liked and disliked.

Well, of course, there is Meg. She's not the same kickass teenager that I love. She's become pretty and content and lacks all the angsty fire I used to love. She's no longer blazing, just some glowing embers. Which, you know, is actually a fine way for a woman to grow. I just don't find much to cheer her for now that she's all mature.

I like that L'Engle blends science and religion without putting them at odds. In this episode, she adds some Paganism to the mix, which is like seasoning an already delicious dish. So many times, I think we get caught in a fallacy of mutual exclusivity, that we miss the duality in nature of the world around us. (There will be more discussion of this at a later date because it ties in to another theme of a different novel.)

I like the family histories. Even when the oft repeated names became confusing. The mystery of which branch the final antagonist will come from is an interesting exercise in word play.

As someone with vertigo, I love the title. It perfectly describes those moments.

It's not my favorite in the series, but I'm sure I'll read it again (and again). Meg's transformation and weak role don't help this one earn any extra Marias. Planet ties up this trilogy with just 3 Marias.

Chapter 26: A Book From Your Childhood

A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle

First, sorry for the crappy image, but this is the cover of my copy and nothing else will do.

I seriously cannot believe this novel only gets 4.04 stars on Goodreads. It is one of my all-time favoritest books of forever. I'm not even exaggerating. Let me tell you why.

Meg is, like, the best girl hero every imagined. (Yes, I went Valley Girl on that.) She is the quintessential awkward tween girl without the pack of friends to make those years bearable. And let's face it, those years suck, even when they don't. She doesn't go through some physical transformation that turns her ugly duckling into a beautiful swan. What she does is realize, on her own, that her character alone is what is going to get her family back together after an intergalactic error. And when I say that, I don't mean that Meg alone is what is going to do it, I mean a vital and unchangeable portion of the very essence of Meg is what does. (This would be a lot easier to talk about if I was ok giving spoilers, but I really want you to read this book. And if you already have, I want you to read it again.)

That's pretty much it. Meg rules. There are other good things about the story, including the moment when Meg declares, "Like and equal are not the same thing at all." But her grrrl power just overshadows everything else I could say. Every time I read this one, I pick up on something new or something I have forgotten. And I'm sad to say that I have not read the whole series. I promise myself I will rectify that error as soon as this challenge is over. I'm really looking forward to A Swiftly Tilting Planet because it is beloved by a friend whose judgement in these things I really value.

One interesting thing that I did not pick up on in the past, perhaps because I didn't think about the subject often, is that it's possible that L'Engle was writing about a family with Autism in the early 1960's. Let that sink in a minute. Now consider- both parents are brilliant, as is Charles Wallace. But they aren't just smart. They think in such unusual ways that they are able to understand the inexplicable. I could be way off on this one. Maybe she was elevating them to more enlightened creatures and I misinterpreted. It could happen. But maybe these two things are not mutually exclusive and she tapped into something that didn't enter common conversation for four more decades. I can't wait to see what else she has in store for me.

Wrinkle joins Mockingbird on my forever bookshelf to which I will return again and again. Meg alone earns 4.75 of its 5 Marias. Seriously, I love this girl.

Chapter 25: A Pulitzer Prize Winner

To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee

Are you shocked? Floored? Flummoxed? Bamboozled? I didn't think so. There's no way I could read Watchman and not re-re-re-re-read Mockingbird. And, as I also re-watch Pretty Little Liars now that the show has revealed who A is, I realize the Liars are reading Mockingbird for English class. So Liars gets a little more credit from me (the mental hospital is named Radley, too, but I had not forgotten that fact).

So, Mockingbird is required reading in high schools across the country, with good reason. It opens the door for Humanities teachers to discuss racial history in the U.S., introduces students to an influential female writer, and gives an accessible account of southern life during the Depression. All of that is great, but it's not why I love this story. When it comes down to it, I love Scout. She's precocious, obnoxious, naive, and wise. She's brash, unruly, unladylike, and charming. She is, in short, a little girl.

Now that Mockingbird is fresh in my memory, the conflict of Watchman is actually pretty predictable and is totally fitting with the characters. We love the Atticus of Mockingbird for many of the same reasons we (the readers and Jean Louise) feel betrayed by him three decades later. It's funny how much the era of the story affects how we feel about the exact same behaviors. In the 30's, he was a leader, a champion, worthy of our adoration. In the 60's the same kind of ideas land him firmly in inexcusable territory. This, of course, is indicative of how fast things changed in this country during those decades, but also how we are willing to overlook things we don't like (paternalism, pity) if our hero does something great (defending a black man against accusations made by whites). This idea still holds true today. How much bad are we willing to ignore if the overall result is good? What is the tipping point at which we change our opinion of a person or organization?

While I think this is all important stuff to think about and discuss and question, it's not the root of why I love this book so much. In fact, it's peripheral to the heart of the novel, in part because a nine-year-old doesn't really grasp the implications of the case her father is working. Scout just takes the world at face value. She believes what her important adults (Atticus, Calpurnia, and Miss Maudie) tell her and suspects everyone else of falsehood. She is quick to defend those whom she loves and has a strong sense of fair, even if it is flawed. Her father has taught her important truths she won't learn anywhere else, namely that all people, even those we deem beneath us, have dignity and deserve if not our respect, then their privacy. It seems to me that this is a dangerous lesson, minding your own business to the detriment of your fellow humans. He starts out with a grand idea but let's it fizzle out in the details.

Scout, however, just applies her lessons to everything. She doesn't see the subtleties of the class divisions in her community because she believes that people are people. She knows they exist, that certain families just have their ways, but she is pragmatic and doesn't judge those other ways. This lovable little tomboy teaches (and learns) more about community than many give her credit for. Often readers feel like they are with her in Atticus' lap, that they learn alongside her. But in my estimation, Scout Finch is the true hero of the tale.

Even though it is set in the 1930's, Mockingbird still is relevant today. One paragraph stood out to me, speaking volumes about how quickly and easily we dehumanize each other. After confronting a group of men who set out to harm the black man accused of raping a white woman, Atticus tells his son, "A mob's always made up of people, no matter what ... a gang of wild animals can be stopped, simply because they're still human. Hmp, maybe we need a police force of children ..." Our failure to see others as humans is easy and enormous. Instead of images of five Marias, I'll leave you with these three images of humanity during conflict. (And, I'd like to just say that it is crazy to me that Sen. Pugh was criticized for hugging a rioter. What she did was not condoning actions but saying, "I see you, I hear you, I acknowledge that you are a person.")