Myths to Explain Our World

Have you noticed how the days are getting shorter? How it's sometimes dark when you wake up now, and the sun sets earlier? In The Time Fetch, Amy Herrick creates a captivating mythology to explain why this is so.

Eighth-grader Edward has disturbed a Fetch in the middle of December, "a dangerous time." The Fetch collects the stray minutes, the moments you won't miss -- and disperses them where they're needed. But Edward's interference puts the Fetch's job in jeopardy. The boy needs a rock for Mr. Ross's science class, and grabs the nearest one from his kooky Aunt Kit's backyard. Aunt Kit has raised Edward and, with a sense of foreboding, tells him to come straight home and offers him some cryptic words of advice, "It's the short end of the year," when "the curtain between here and there grows thin." As odd as her phrases seem, they begin to make sense to Edward--and to readers--as bizarre occurrences whirl around the Fetch. 

Amy Herrick
Photo credit: Breukellen Riesgo

The Fetch may be Herrick's invention, but she uses the idea of time's perceived elasticity to explore age-old ideas. Edward's Aunt Kit is the first to broach the subject ("Without time everything would happen at once," says she), then Mr. Ross introduces the topic of time as the fourth dimension (along with length, width and height). This may lead neatly into a discussion with young readers of how man has always sought explanations for things he cannot understand, from the oral tradition of the Aztecs to the controversial heliocentric ideas of Copernicus. Over the centuries, poets and scientists have always worked toward and continue to strive for a deeper understanding of how the universe works and where human beings fit within it.

The Time Fetch makes a natural complement to books such as A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L'Engle and Rebecca Stead's When You Reach Me, to further explore the nature of time and humankind's fascination with it over the centuries. And for adults and older children with a desire to explore these ideas, Einstein's Dreams by Alan Lightman (an MIT professor of physics and writing) is a beautiful piece of bookmaking--a series of meditations on the nature of time, to be enjoyed in short bursts, to allow time for Lightman's ideas to sink in before reading the next chapter. (This was one of the early paperbacks to use French flaps--maybe even the first.) 

Amy Herrick, whose inspiration for The Time Fetch began with a conversation with a friend about how time seemed in shorter supply now than when they were small, provides a wonderful gateway into a larger examination of how the world works.

Literary Touchstones

In Cynthia Lord's Touch Blue, Tess’s hope that Aaron, her new foster brother, will be more like Anne of Green Gables and less like the Great Gilly Hopkins got me thinking about other characters who make literary references.

This is one of those moments when I wish I were sitting at a table with three or four other book-lovers to come up with more. I know there are more. The example that leaped to mind, of course, was Mira in When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead, and her many references to Meg in Madeleine L’Engle’s A Wrinkle in Time. And, though it’s slightly different because Jack becomes fascinated with Walter Dean Myers as an author rather than one particular character in his work, I do love how Miss Stretchberry starts Jack on his way in Love that Dog by Sharon Creech, with examples of various poets, and then he finds Myers’ work and mines the author’s books himself. In John Green’s Paper Towns, Walt Whitman’s “Song of Myself” from Leaves of Grass holds clues that are key to the mystery of Margo’s whereabouts, but that’s (obviously) not a children’s book.

I know there are more. Can you think of other books whose characters make literary references to sum up their situation? We’ll have a virtual round-table discussion.

Reflections on the Newbery Medal

A week ago Monday (January 18, 2010), at the American Library Association conference in Boston, Mass., the 2010 Newbery and Caldecott Awards were announced.

Last week, we explored a few of the guidelines for the Caldecott Medal. This week, I thought it would be interesting to reflect a bit on the guidelines given to the Newbery committee. Like the books that have received the Caldecott Medal and honors, the Newbery Medal and Honor books also reflect a wide range of topics and genres. Here is the charge of the Newbery committee: “The Medal shall be awarded annually to the author of the most distinguished contribution to American literature for children published by an American publisher in the United States in English during the preceding year. There are no limitations as to the character of the book considered except that it be original work. Honor books may be named. These shall be books that are also truly distinguished.”

“There are no limitations as to the character of the book considered...” gives the committee a great deal of leeway. In Leonard Marcus’s book Funny Business: Conversations with Writers of Comedy, three of the writers he interviewed have won the Newbery Medal, and his questions get to the heart of their approach to writing and their affinity for humor as a means of communication. Other books that were considered “distinguished” by past Newbery Committees have run the gamut from poetry to biography to fiction.

Looking at this year’s Newbery winner and honor books alone, we see a diversity of topics and approaches. Rebecca Stead’s When You Reach Me, which won the 2010 Newbery Medal last week, is set in 1970s Manhattan on the Upper West Side, with a time travel puzzle at its core, and a heroine named Miranda trying to make sense of a world whose parameters are expanding in so many ways. (Another fun fact: Miranda’s favorite well-worn book, A Wrinkle in Time, also won a Newbery Medal.) The Newbery Honor book The Evolution of Calpurnia Tate by Jacqueline Kelly explores the changes going on in a small town in Texas in 1899, and 11-year-old Callie, who’s more interested in science than cooking and sewing; the book explores the impact of Darwin’s ideas on Callie and how scientific breakthroughs are affecting the society in which she lives. Where the Mountain Meets the Moon by Grace Lin, also an Honor book, is a timeless quest story set in China that seamlessly weaves Chinese folklore into the narrative with occasional glorious full-color, silkscreen-like illustrations. Then there’s The Mostly True Adventures of Homer P. Figg by Rodman Philbrick, in which 12-year-old narrator Homer adopts a tall-tale tone but also gets across the horrors of the Civil War, and the nonfiction title Claudette Colvin: Twice Toward Justice by Phillip Hoose, which draws from interviews with Ms. Colvin and archival photographs to tell the story of 15-year-old Claudette Colvin’s brave decision to defy segregation in 1955 Alabama. Whew! Can you imagine a greater range of tone and topic, from history to time travel to folklore and tall tale?

Many teachers and librarians conduct “mock Newbery” discussions, to contemplate what makes a book “distinguished” and to choose the best of the year’s offerings. From the diversity of titles in this year’s mix, you can see how much depends upon the makeup of the committee and the discussion around each individual book. Does your school or local library host a discussion? If not, and if your son or daughter is interested, why not approach a teacher or librarian about starting one?

The Pleasures of Rereading

One of the things I like best about Rebecca Stead’s novel When You Reach Me is the way the heroine, Mira, loves A Wrinkle in Time. The way she carries it around with her wherever she goes, and the way the book is like an old friend to her. It made me think about the pleasures of rereading books and why we do it. If we’ve already read the book, and we know what’s going to happen, why bother reading it again? It’s precisely because we do know what’s going to happen that we bother. We return to certain books again and again because we know they are reliable and dependable and will always be there for us, and events will unfold just the way we remembered them. Or if we’re really lucky, they begin to mean different things to us at different times—just like longtime friends do. The longer we know them, the more we discover. The bond deepens.

I do not know how many times I have read The Little Prince, but each time he has come through for me. When I was small, he was a traveler in a great adventure who came home, where he was happiest of all. As I grew older, he was the hero in a love story—between the Little Prince and his rose, beloved to him, unique in all the world because of his care for and devotion to his rose. Then the subplot between the Little Prince and the fox came to the fore, as I began to consider what the word “tame” meant in the context of their connection, and the complexity and trust involved. More recently, it has had a tinge of all these things, but mostly it has helped me see the importance of being at home where you are.

Rereading also teaches us to be better writers. A famous story goes that when someone once asked Ernest Hemingway how to become a writer, his advice was, “Read Anna Karenina. Read Anna Karenina. Read Anna Karenina.” Just as good painters often begin by imitating the masters, reading the masters can help us improve as writers.

Finally, it's my belief that reading and rereading makes us better people. Books allow us to enter other worlds. They offer us other points of view, help us to see another side—often of ourselves.