Archive for the Reading
Monday, April 2nd, 2012
Onomatopoeia
This weekend, our 7-year-old granddaughter was reading to me from The Tale of Benjamin Bunny. As she felt out the syllables one by one, I heard the words as if through her ears. It was a reminder to me of Beatrix Potter’s rich, old vocabulary. Ears pricking. . . gigs driving along. . . and the pony’s trit-trot.
Trit trot. As she worked out one word at a time, trying out all possible pronunciations until hitting on the one that’s familiar, trit was a puzzle. I nudged her forward into the next word. Trit and trot together–ah yes, the sound of the pony’s feet.
Only later did I realize she’d already learned about onomatopoeia from her daddy. She even had her own definition: “Like the sounds an animal makes–words that sound like noises.”
That brought to my mind The Cataract of Lodore, a rumbling, tumbling, rousing, dowsing onomatopoeic poem by Robert Southey.
(This video reading is too quiet, but you’ll get the idea.)
The Cataract of Lodore
“How does the water
Come down at Lodore?”
My little boy asked me
Thus, once on a time;
And moreover he tasked me
To tell him in rhyme.
Anon, at the word,
There first came one daughter,
And then came another,
To second and third
The request of their brother,
And to hear how the water
Comes down at Lodore,
With its rush and its roar,
As many a time
They had seen it before.
So I told them in rhyme,
For of rhymes I had store;
And ’twas in my vocation
For their recreation
That so I should sing;
Because I was Laureate
To them and the King.
From its sources which well
In the tarn on the fell;
From its fountains
In the mountains,
Its rills and its gills;
Through moss and through brake,
It runs and it creeps
For a while, till it sleeps
In its own little lake.
And thence at departing,
Awakening and starting,
It runs through the reeds,
And away it proceeds,
Through meadow and glade,
In sun and in shade,
And through the wood-shelter,
Among crags in its flurry,
Helter-skelter,
Hurry-skurry.
Here it comes sparkling,
And there it lies darkling;
Now smoking and frothing
Its tumult and wrath in,
Till, in this rapid race
On which it is bent,
It reaches the place
Of its steep descent.
The cataract strong
Then plunges along,
Striking and raging
As if a war waging
Its caverns and rocks among;
Rising and leaping,
Sinking and creeping,
Swelling and sweeping,
Showering and springing,
Flying and flinging,
Writhing and ringing,
Eddying and whisking,
Spouting and frisking,
Turning and twisting,
Around and around
With endless rebound:
Smiting and fighting,
A sight to delight in;
Confounding, astounding,
Dizzying and deafening the ear with its sound.
Collecting, projecting,
Receding and speeding,
And shocking and rocking,
And darting and parting,
And threading and spreading,
And whizzing and hissing,
And dripping and skipping,
And hitting and splitting,
And shining and twining,
And rattling and battling,
And shaking and quaking,
And pouring and roaring,
And waving and raving,
And tossing and crossing,
And flowing and going,
And running and stunning,
And foaming and roaming,
And dinning and spinning,
And dropping and hopping,
And working and jerking,
And guggling and struggling,
And heaving and cleaving,
And moaning and groaning;
And glittering and frittering,
And gathering and feathering,
And whitening and brightening,
And quivering and shivering,
And hurrying and skurrying,
And thundering and floundering;
Dividing and gliding and sliding,
And falling and brawling and sprawling,
And driving and riving and striving,
And sprinkling and twinkling and wrinkling,
And sounding and bounding and rounding,
And bubbling and troubling and doubling,
And grumbling and rumbling and tumbling,
And clattering and battering and shattering;
Retreating and beating and meeting and sheeting,
Delaying and straying and playing and spraying,
Advancing and prancing and glancing and dancing,
Recoiling, turmoiling and toiling and boiling,
And gleaming and streaming and steaming and beaming,
And rushing and flushing and brushing and gushing,
And flapping and rapping and clapping and slapping,
And curling and whirling and purling and twirling,
And thumping and plumping and bumping and jumping,
And dashing and flashing and splashing and clashing;
And so never ending, but always descending,
Sounds and motions for ever and ever are blending
All at once and all o’er, with a mighty uproar, -
And this way the water comes down at Lodore.
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Monday, January 9th, 2012
Y’all come! Y’all come!
Y’all come!
That’s American Southern for Everybody’s welcome, and we want to see you!” I just got home from Georgia, the place where I learned my “heart” language all those years ago.
Now I’m turning my eyes and heart toward China, and I’m saying it twice because I’m inviting you twice. I hope I’ll see you two times this week.
Invitation 1: Tomorrow night
Bethlehem to China: A Journey
Presented by Noel Piper and Joann Pittman
Tuesday, January 10
7:00-9:00 pm
Bethlehem Baptist Church, Downtown Campus
Invitation 2: Thursday evening
My Literary Journey to being a Sinophile
Presented by Joann Pittman
Thursday, January 12
7:00 pm
Ramsey County Library Community Room, 2180 Hamline, Roseville, MN
Spread the word!
All y’all come and bring your family and friends. Joann and I are looking forward to seeing you.
Wednesday, November 30th, 2011
A Holy Ambition: free download
Many of you are familiar with Logos Software. Recently Logos launched Vyrso Christian eBooks.
Until December, Vyrso is offering a free download of A Holy Ambition, by one of the best authors around (if I do say so myself).
Monday, November 28th, 2011
Bible story books
I think Bible story books make great gifts for the children we love.
I really appreciate Justin Taylor for his frequent book reccomendations, especially because I usually agree with his assessments. So today’s post recommending his top picks of Bible story books is right up my alley.
I’ve already given some of them
on earlier Christmas days. But I hadn’t yet seen The Gospel Story Bible: Discovering Jesus in the Old and New Testaments, by Marty Machowski. I’m looking forward to it. (Justin links to a great 72-hour discount on the book).
Tuesday, November 22nd, 2011
Advent is upon us
Update: Today, Amazon is out of stock. If you want a copy, you can go ahead and order from Amazon, and they’ll ship when they get more in stock. Or you can order directly from the publisher, Rabbit Room Press. They also offer a book/cd combo.
This coming Sunday is the first Sunday of Advent 2012.
Justin Taylor recommends a devotional book that looks really good — Behold the Lamb of God: An Advent Narrative.
I’m ordering one right now for our family.
Wednesday, November 16th, 2011
Plurals and paradoxes
Here’s a funny reminder that what seems perfectly natural to me, as a native English speaker, is really quite odd and random. From a friend whose English was learned by study, later than her at-home language that came naturally.
We’ll begin with a box, and the plural is boxes,
But the plural of ox becomes oxen, not oxes;
One fowl is a goose, but two are called geese,
Yet the plural of moose should never be meese;
You may find a lone mouse or a nest full of mice,
Yet the plural of house is houses, not hice.
If the plural of man is always called men,
Why shouldn’t the plural of pan be called pen ?
If I speak of my foot and show you my feet,
And I give you a boot, would a pair be called beet ?
If one is a tooth and a whole set are teeth,
Why shouldn’t the plural of booth be called beeth ?
Then one may be that, & three would be those,
Yet hat in the plural would never be hose;
And the plural of cat is cats, not cose.
We speak of a brother & also of brethren,
But though we say mother, we never say methren.
Then the masculine pronouns are he, his & him,
But imagine the feminine: she, shis & shim !
Let’s face it – English is a crazy language.
There is no egg in eggplant nor ham in hamburger;
Neither apple nor pine in pineapple.
English muffins weren’t invented in England.
We take English for granted,
but if we explore its paradoxes,
We find that quicksand can work slowly,
boxing rings are square;
A guinea pig is neither from Guinea nor is it a pig.
Why is it that writers write, but fingers don’t fing,
Grocers don’t groce & hammers don’t ham?
Doesn’t it seem crazy that …
you can make amends but not one amend ?
If you have a bunch of odds and ends …
and get rid of all but one of them,
What do you call it ?
If teachers taught, why didn’t preachers praught ?
If a vegetarian eats vegetables,
what does a humanitarian eat ?
Sometimes I think all people who speak English
Should be in an asylum for the verbally insane.
In what other language do people recite at a play,
and play at a recital ?
We ship by truck but send cargo by ship …
We have noses that run & feet that smell;
We park in a driveway & drive in a parkway.
And how can a slim chance & a fat chance be the same,
while a wise man & a wise guy are opposites ?
You have to marvel at the unique lunacy of a language
in which your house can burn up as it burns down;
In which you fill in a form by filling it out,
& in which an alarm goes off by going on.
And in closing,
If Father is Pop,
How come Mother’s not Mop?
(I haven’t discovered who created this, but various versions have been around since the 1800s.)
Thursday, August 25th, 2011
The Help
I’ve been thinking I want to reread The Help, by Kathryn Stockett. It’s been some time, and I remember that my main opinion was that it was a very good story, very well and realistically told. I want the book to be fresh in my mind in case I go see the film.
I recommend Thabiti Anyabwile’s thoughtful, detailed review of the book. Even if you’re not sure you’ll read The Help, it’s worth reading Thabiti’s thoughts from his perspective of having been a child whose mother worked as a domestic in a white home in the South.
_____
Reminder: You can follow our time in Australia at my new blog, Tell Me When to Pack.
Wednesday, March 2nd, 2011
Happy Birthday, Theodor (repost)
Quick!
Off the top of your head!
Which author has been read by more American children than any other? (Sorry. I don’t have any proof of this fact. I’m just guessing.)
Today is the birthday of Theodor Geisel, who once upon a time wrote and illustrated a book, signed it with his middle name, and forever after has been known as Dr. Seuss.
My youngest brother learned to read by following along in Dr. Seuss with Uncle Claude–maybe Hop on Pop or One Fish, Two Fish.
There aren’t many authors (any?) whose books I read more of and more often to my children. I especially enjoyed Green Eggs and Ham . My husband admired the sensitive, kind, persistent Horton.
You’d have to ask my children which were their favorites–I’m afraid it might have been The Cat in the Hat.
Anyway, with 44 books, there’s something to appeal to just about everyone.
Happy birthday, Dr. Seuss.
Tuesday, March 1st, 2011
Mr. Bean “honors” librarians everywhere
Somebody has declared this to be International Hug a Librarian Day.
So, especially in honor of reference and antiquarian librarians, here’s Mr. Bean.
Friday, February 4th, 2011
Black History Month: 2 & more by Tim Ladwig
I have admired Tim Ladwig’s work since I first discovered it in Psalm 23. The inner-city morning-to-night day of a brother and sister illustrates the truth of this favorite psalm.
His portrayal of The Lord’s Prayer follows a little girl as she accompanies her handyman father when he helps a neighbor.
Yesterday I recommended a favorite of mine by Nikki Grimes. Today Grimes’ poetry and Ladwig’s illustrations join to present the sweet bond between a father and his son in When Daddy Prays.
(Please submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
Thursday, February 3rd, 2011
Black History Month: Books
(Please submit a true story to be considered as a guest post during African-American History month. Details.)
When we adopted Talitha, we became a multiracial family. African-American history became part of the mix of our family’s history.
The books on our shelves started to change. Now I was noticing whether the illustrations in a book included children of various ethnic backgrounds. I hope many of you will be wiser and more into real life than I had been before that: I hope you will be seeking books that are multi-racial and multicultural even if your family is all one color.
A number of people have asked me for book recommendations. My best first advice is to keep your eyes open wherever you usually are finding books. But of course, it helps to get recommendations too. Pamela Toussaint has collected about 250 titles and descriptions in Great Books for African-American Children. It was published several years ago, so newer books won’t be listed, but it’s a good start.
One of my favorites is Come Sunday, by Nikki Grimes. It begins with Mama waking LaTasha on Sunday morning. “Time to shed dawn’s cozy quilt” has become part of our home language.
Then each short poem, paired with an evocative, luscious illustration, leads us with affection and tender humor through LaTasha’s Sunday. Mama braiding her hair, the imaginative hats at Paradise Baptist, the pinches on the cheek, the music that brings the congregation to dancing, the potluck meal of ”collards and ham and honey-glazed yams, fried chicken and black-eyed peas, and pumpkin pie” . . . .
Oh, now I’m thinking of another book and another. Another day.
What are your favorites?
