Last Fall when I read M The Chronicles of Narnia, I realized that CS Lewis gave me my love of parenthesis.
When I read The Borrowers last month, I found the housekeeper character really creepy, and wondered that I had such cozy memories of reading the to book myself. It was my second long book that I read to myself after the Secret Garden, both books undertaken after Mrs Brock the Nyack Children’s Librarian showed us movies in the cool basement during a hot, muggy summer.
I’m in the middle of The Jungle Book right now, it’s recommended to go with the chapters on England and India in the Story of the World Volume III. I never actually read this before, I tried in 4th grade, but the type was too small, and I got confused on the animal names. I’d been given a record of the Disney songs from their movie, and I wanted to be pretty and mysterious as the little girl singing about "when I’m grown," There doesn’t seem to be much of her in the books at all though. Wow, talk about nature being red in tooth and claw, B keeps pointing out things he’s read about wolves being different from the stories, I keep reminding him that Kipling hadn’t actually visited the jungle, although he was born in India. The boys are enjoying it very much, although for me, sometimes this gets just a bit too….19th century manly? Jingoistic?
I do like the poetry though.
I’ve been reading ahead: It’s time for me to go read the chapter about all the people killing one another to get the jewels Mowgli takes out of the ruined city, and gives back to the toothless cobra before anyone else gets killed. What cheerful nap time reading ;-(