Feeding My Green Hunger: Wyeth's Island Roses

I frequent a wonderful blog called Wittingshire, which can be found at www.wittingshire.blogspot.com. (Sorry, I can't seem to get html to cooperate tonight so that I can turn this into a workable link. Argh.) What I love about this blog is that the writers (a husband and wife team) share so much beauty both in what they write and in the photographs they post. Most of the photos are original to them, and I've loved many of them, but this time around they posted a thumbnail of a painting called "Island Roses" by Jamie Wyeth.

And I'm love with this painting. I love good art, but rarely do I find myself falling for a painting on first sight the way I did with this one. I've tried to find the best link I can to a good online copy of it (I'm not sure about copyright issues in terms of actually posting a copy of the print itself; the Wittingshire blog is a lot more tech savvy than my little corner here!). Anyway, check this link out -- www.pralston.com/islandroses.html if you'd like to feed your hunger for beauty and for green.

I've had acute green hunger for years. I'm not really a city girl at heart, but the Lord has, in his mysterious ways, seen fit to place me in a small city with a very industrial/urban landscape for almost nine years. And due to other circumstances in our lives, we've had very little time and space to go seeking the green I so often long for and feel I need. As a result, what I term landscapes of my heart have become very important to me. Some are real landscapes I've known, and now inhabit mostly in memory; some are visual and others are fictional. As soon as I saw this painting, I knew I'd found another one. I'd love to just walk inside it.

Books I've Read (Meme)

Not sure where this meme originated, but it looks like fun. I found it via a link off the Daily Meme site (a meme is a list or quiz or other odd little writing prompt).

The object is to look over the list of 100 books, bold the ones you've read, italicize ones you've started but not finished, and leave the rest as is. Then add three books you've read that aren't already on the list to the bottom. Here's mine!

1. The Lord of the Rings, JRR Tolkien
2. Pride and Prejudice, Jane Austen
3. His Dark Materials, Philip Pullman
4. The Hitchhikers Guide to the Galaxy, Douglas Adams
5. Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire, JK Rowling
6. To Kill a Mockingbird, Harper Lee
7. Winnie the Pooh, AA Milne
8. 1984, George Orwell
9. The Lion, the Witch and the Wardrobe, CS Lewis
10. Jane Eyre, Charlotte Bronte
11. Catch-22, Joseph Heller
12. Wuthering Heights, Emily Bronte
13. Birdsong, Sebastian Faulks
14. Rebecca, Daphne du Maurier
15. The Catcher in the Rye, JD Salinger
16. The Wind in the Willows, Kenneth Grahame
17. Great Expectations, Charles Dickens
18. Little Women, Louisa May Alcott
19. Captain Corellis Mandolin, Louis de Bernieres
20. War and Peace, Leo Tolstoy
21. Gone with the Wind, Margaret Mitchell
22. Harry Potter And The Sorcerers Stone, JK Rowling
23. Harry Potter And The Chamber Of Secrets, JK Rowling
24. Harry Potter And The Prisoner Of Azkaban, JK Rowling
25. The Hobbit, JRR Tolkien
26. Tess Of The DUrbervilles, Thomas Hardy
27. Middlemarch, George Eliot
28. A Prayer For Owen Meany, John Irving
29. The Grapes Of Wrath, John Steinbeck
30. Alice's Adventures In Wonderland, Lewis Carroll
31. The Story Of Tracy Beaker, Jacqueline Wilson
32. One Hundred Years Of Solitude, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
33. The Pillars Of The Earth, Ken Follett
34. David Copperfield, Charles Dickens
35. Charlie And The Chocolate Factory, Roald Dahl
36. Treasure Island, Robert Louis Stevenson
37. A Town Like Alice, Nevil Shute
38. Persuasion, Jane Austen
39. Dune, Frank Herbert
40. Emma, Jane Austen
41. Anne Of Green Gables, LM Montgomery
42. Watership Down, Richard Adams
43. The Great Gatsby, F Scott Fitzgerald
44. The Count Of Monte Cristo, Alexandre Dumas
45. Brideshead Revisited, Evelyn Waugh
46. Animal Farm, George Orwell
47. A Christmas Carol, Charles Dickens
48. Far From The Madding Crowd, Thomas Hardy
49. Goodnight Mister Tom, Michelle Magorian
50. The Shell Seekers, Rosamunde Pilcher
51. The Secret Garden, Frances Hodgson Burnett
52. Of Mice And Men, John Steinbeck
53. The Stand, Stephen King
54. Anna Karenina, Leo Tolstoy
55. A Suitable Boy, Vikram Seth
56. The BFG, Roald Dahl
57. Swallows And Amazons, Arthur Ransome
58. Black Beauty, Anna Sewell
59. Artemis Fowl, Eoin Colfer
60. Crime And Punishment, Fyodor Dostoyevsky
61. Noughts And Crosses, Malorie Blackman
62. Memoirs Of A Geisha, Arthur Golden
63. A Tale Of Two Cities, Charles Dickens
64. The Thorn Birds, Colleen McCollough
65. Mort, Terry Pratchett
66. The Magic Faraway Tree, Enid Blyton
67. The Magus, John Fowles
68. Good Omens, Terry Pratchett and Neil Gaiman
69. Guards! Guards!, Terry Pratchett
70. Lord Of The Flies, William Golding
71. Perfume, Patrick Susskind
72. The Ragged Trousered Philanthropists, Robert Tressell
73. Night Watch, Terry Pratchett
74. Matilda, Roald Dahl
75. Bridget Jones' Diary, Helen Fielding
76. The Secret History, Donna Tartt
77. The Woman In White, Wilkie Collins
78. Ulysses, James Joyce
79. Bleak House, Charles Dickens
80. Double Act, Jacqueline Wilson
81. The Twits, Roald Dahl
82. I Capture The Castle, Dodie Smith
83. Holes, Louis Sachar
84. Gormenghast, Mervyn Peake
85. The God Of Small Things, Arundhati Roy
86. Vicky Angel, Jacqueline Wilson
87. Brave New World, Aldous Huxley
88. Cold Comfort Farm, Stella Gibbons
89. Magician, Raymond E Feist
90. On The Road, Jack Kerouac
91. The Godfather, Mario Puzo
92. The Clan Of The Cave Bear, Jean M Auel
93. The Colour Of Magic, Terry Pratchett
94. The Alchemist, Paulo Coelho
95. Katherine, Anya Seton
96. Kane And Abel, Jeffrey Archer
97. Love In The Time Of Cholera, Gabriel Garcia Marquez
98. Girls In Love, Jacqueline Wilson
99. The Princess Diaries, Meg Cabot
100. Midnights Children, Salman Rushdie
101. Ender's Game, Orson Scott Card
102. The Things They Carried, Tim O'Brien
103. A Wrinkle in Time, Madeleine L'Engle

Hmmm...interesting list. Nice of them to go so heavy on Austen and Rowling, which makes me look better. :-) I confess that three of these were read to me, by my husband: Hitchhiker's Guide, Lord of the Flies, and Animal Farm. I put Animal Farm in italics because I think I slept through most of it (sorry, honey!). My DH has read just about everything of Orwell's and I gave Orwell a mighty try when we were first married, but have really only gotten through 1984 and Keep the Aspidistra Flying (which isn't on this list)!

I was happy to be able to bold Alice's Adventures in Wonderland. Once upon a time, when I was in high school, I would have had to put it in italics because I'd started but not finished it. I finally read it all the way through while in my 20s. I should have read all of Middlemarch in my college Vic. Lit. class but didn't (sorry, Nancy!). It's one of those books I keep meaning to get back to.

I clearly need to read more Dickens. I honestly don't know if I've read all of Great Expectations because when I did read it, I was in 8th grade. I think we may have read a shortened version. But I love A Christmas Carol and I really enjoyed A Tale of Two Cities when I finally read it last year. I have a feeling I am overdue for a Dickens year. Any suggestions as to which of his books to read next gratefully accepted!

HP Book Seven: Harry's Final Confrontations

I intended to post again last night, but there was a slight accident when I was getting the Booper girl ready for bed. Nothing too serious, but as I was letting her blow off some energy before bedtime (she was running, jumping and trying to hop on one foot, a new skill she's been trying to perfect) somehow in the midst of a jumping game, I leaned over around the same time she jumped and her head connected with my mouth with some pretty major force. I was laughing or saying something at the time, with the end result being that my lip got knocked into my teeth and I got a major -- I mean major! -- split lip. It bled copiously, which made my sweet daughter weep copiously, and with all the chaos of finally getting her to bed and then realizing I had a very sore lip and a headache to boot, I didn't feel much like getting back to the blog. Instead I took some homeopathic arnica, wrapped up some ice in a washcloth and applied it, and sacked out on the couch to watch a movie with my DH who had just gotten home from work.

But now I'm ready to get back at it. Although the scar on my lip is not shaped like a lightning bolt or a map of the London Underground, without further ado, let's jump right into some of my thoughts and speculations regarding potential confrontations Harry is likely to face in book 7.

If you don't mind my quoting myself from my last post: I'm calling these "meetings" because not all of them will be confrontational in the same way, and not all of them will be initiated from one side. Some of these meetings feel inevitable to the unfolding of Rowling's intricate plotting and to satisfy her beautifully drawn narrative arc. Some of them might not happen, but I think it would be interesting if they did.


Harry meets...Voldemort

Yes, I can hear the snickers from the peanut gallery even as I type. And I cheerfully admit this one is a no-brainer. But this is where we've got to start... or rather this is where the books have to end. JK Rowling has been building toward this climax since the opening page of the opening story, and (let's face it) for a long time before that as she wrote and planned her seven book series.

What fascinates me is that we still have no clue exactly how this final battle between the seventeen year old Harry and his lifelong nemesis will take place. We don't know where it will happen, or even who will initiate it in the final analysis. I think it's safe to say that Voldemort, after being an oddly backstage presence in HBP, will be howling to go after Harry again now that Harry's mentor and great protector, Albus Dumbledore, is out of the way. But I also don't think that Voldemort is going to go off half-cocked. His schemes to return to power and to get what he wants have always been intricate and well-thought-out (and diabolical) even though they've usually been thwarted up until now.

Well, when you think about it, not all of his plans have failed...they've just not succeeded as spectacularly as he would have liked. Hid DID return to "full power" and an "embodied" existence, it just took him a lot longer than he bargained for and he wasn't able to kill Harry in the process, though he's repeatedly tried. I put "full power" in quotes and say "embodied" not human existence because we now know for a fact that he's missing at least 2/7 of his soul. Dumbledore took care of the second piece when he destroyed the ring horcrux. And Harry took care of the first (though he didn't realize what he was doing at the time) when he destroyed the diary horcrux in the Chamber of Secrets.

But there's a new element as we build toward the final confrontation between these two: not only is Voldemort determined to go after Harry now, but for the first time ever, by the end of HBP, we have a Harry determined to go after Voldemort.

During his entire life, Harry has been protected by so many people, whether he's always known it or not. Ever since hearing the prophecy (or half the prophecy) Voldemort has been sure that Harry was the only one who could bring about his downfall, so he has been after him since he was a tiny infant. Someone has almost always stood between Voldemort and Harry, literally or figuratively, beginning with his courageous mother Lily, who willingly sacrificed her life to save her son, and whose sacrifice actually sealed a long-lasting ancient blood protection over Harry. Because his mother's sister Petunia was willing to have Harry live in her house (however grudgingly, and whatever her motivations, including fear) that blood protection has lasted his whole life until now. In the meantime, Dumbledore has watched over him his whole life, sometimes from afar but more recently in a much more hands-on mentoring capacity. And there have been a host of other protectors: the Weasleys (anyone one of whom, perhaps excepting Percy on his worst days, would be willing to give their life for Harry and vice versa); Sirius Black (until his death at the end of OofP) and the entire Order of the Phoenix. Let's not forget Hagrid, whose protection of Harry started very early when he rescued him from James and Lily's house as a tiny baby and flew with him (on Sirius' motorcyle) to Dumbledore at the Dursley's. Then there's the fact that Harry has been on the receiving end of what we could really only term grace: help from the outside, help from completely unexpected sources outside of himself. His faithful loyalty to Dumbledore summons Fawkes to his aid in CoS; because he is a "true Gryffindor" he is able to pull Godric Gryffindor's sword from the hat right at the time when he most needs it; in PoA he is trained in the practice of placing himself expectantly in a moment of joy instead of dwelling in fear and thus is able to summon Prongs, the stag patronus that has his late father's animagus form, which saves him and Sirius from the deathly dementors; and in GoF the providential fact (and I don't use the word "providential" here lightly) that his wand is the brother wand of Voldemort's puts priori incantatem into effect, thereby providing Harry with a great cloud of witnesses that shield, help and encourage him in his escape from Voldemort in the graveyard.

These are only a few of the instances that show the ways Harry has been protected and helped against the rage and hate of his enemy, Voldemort. He has been lovingly sheltered, which is why he's alive. And I'm not saying that all that protection and help is a thing of the past. Far from it! But as we turn to book 7, we find two things staring right at us:

-- Harry is perhaps at his most vulnerable and in some ways appears the least "protected" he has ever been

-- Harry has accepted the fact that it's his calling to confront Voldemort, and feels has been given his instructions or "marching orders" from Dumbledore: find and destroy the remaining horcruxes, and then go after the weakened Voldemort and face him

Harry's vulnerability and seeming lack of protection go hand in hand. First, he's lost most of his most important mentors and guides. Sirius' death was a blow, but Dumbledore's death is the real crusher. It not only robs Harry of his physical nearness, wisdom and strength, but all members of the wizarding community that are on the side of right (members of the Order, many of the students and teachers at Hogwarts, and others) now stand without Dumbledore's help and protection as well. Rowling has repeatedly reminded us, in words and actions, that Dumbledore was "the only one he (Voldemort) ever feared" and now that he's out of the way, there's a real potential here for things to fall apart as people give into fear. If you'll forgive the pun, Hogwarts has lost its "head" but we can fervently hope that Harry and others who were close to Dumbledore's heart will not lose their's. For Harry, I think the pressures are going to be undeniably hard: on the one hand, he's lost the every-day guidance of his powerful mentor just when he seems to need it most, and on the other hand, the rumor mill has been flying (fueled by the Daily Prophet) and many people have surmised that he indeed may be the "Chosen One," the only one who can defeat You-Know-Who. Therefore a lot of people may be turning to Harry for leadership, and putting their hope in him. That's a lot of pressure on a just coming of age seventeen year old.

Ah yes, he's coming of age. That brings us to point 2. The blood protection which Dumbledore invoked (that Lewisian "ancient magic") after Lily's giving of her life for her son...it's coming to an end when Harry turns seventeen, which is the age when wizards come of age. Dumbledore asks the Dursleys to allow Harry to come back to their house one more time before his seventeenth birthday, to ensure that the protection stays in place until then (he needs to be in a place where his blood-kin dwells) but once Harry becomes a man, that protection and everything it's meant for his safety will be gone. Does Voldemort know this? Good question.

My third and last point about Harry's vulnerability is that when we last saw him in HBP, he was struggling with real grief over Dumbledore's death and real rage toward Severus Snape, the man who carried it out. I'm not trying to go all Jedi-knight here and say that Harry has to find some weird place of calmness and detachment in order to fight more effectively. I think Harry's pain and rage are legitimate and necessary -- and I think Dumbledore would think so too (remember at the end of OotP when Harry was raging around destroying things in his office?) because he knows, and has told Harry, that one of Harry's strengths is his very humanity, his ability to love and lose and hurt. But I do think that Harry has to guard against the things that would kill his humanity, that would (if you will) turn him more Voldemort-ish. He can't give in to fear and he can't get stuck in rage. I think he's already made a good start at the first by the end of HBP, and that Hermione and Ron's loyal presence will be a big help in both endeavors. But he needs to be careful, and he needs to keep grounding himself by remembering and heeding Dumbledore's counsel that love is the only weapon that can ultimately deafeat Voldemort and also protect Harry from the lure of power that has so corrupted Voldemort.

I don't think, by the way, that Harry is as vulnerable and unprotected as he probably feels at the moment. He has Hermione and Ron (perhaps his most valuable assets at the moment, both because of their loyalty and talents and because they know him so well and are privvy to the whole story and know what he needs to do); he has Ginny and the rest of the Weasleys, Remus Lupin, Hagrid, Hedwig, and I'd add Neville and Luna (and quite possibly the rest of the now-defunct but I hope soon to be resurrected DA). He owns Grimmauld Place now, and has the loyalty of the Order of the Phoenix. He is armed with all the knowledge that Dumbledore has been able to pass on to him, and I don't think Dumbledore's wisdom will completely dry up in this forthcoming book. In the magical world Rowling has created, there are far too many possibilities left open for at least some form of ongoing communcation and help: the headmaster's portrait, Fawkes, the pensieve with potential stored memories of important events and instances that Dumbledore wasn't able to share while he was alive. Because of the pity he took on Peter Pettigrew, one of Voldemort's closest servants owes Harry a life debt. And I think there is still a very, very strong possibility, if you follow the subtext and sniff for clues beneath the surface, that Dumbledore has bequeathed Harry the gift of Severus Snape, that unlikeliest of protectors, who has now forever cemented his closeness to Voldemort's inner circle but whose ultimate loyalties remain in doubt for many readers, this one included.

And let's not forget one other thing Harry has: his mother's eyes. If eyes can be considered a window to soul, then I think we're being reminded by this repeated reference that Harry has been shaped by an example of sacrificial love from before he can even remember. At its core, his identity has been formed around this kernel of truth about who he is and about his story: he is a beloved son worth dying for. That is what he will be living out of as he faces fear and hatred and possible death. And it's a good place to be.

Whew. I think that's probably enough for starters! I had thought I'd tackle several Harry confrontations today, but need to give my fingers a rest. The others won't be nearly so long...this one was the motherlode of all confrontations!

HP Book Seven: Final Confrontations

My inner Harry Potter geek has been showing up a lot here lately, and I have a feeling that may be the case for a while. That's because I've been active again over at the HogPro boards, discussion forums moderated by my favorite HP critic/ commentator John Granger. I joined the forums last fall when a number of us were riding high from the release of Half-Blood Prince and the subsequent terrific discussions we'd had in John's Barnes and Noble reading group. I spent a lot of time at the HogPro forums during the fall and early winter, and then other parts of life intervened and I found myself lucky if I could check in two or three times a month during the spring.

Now summer has come, and with it my enthusiasm to read HP again and spend more time discussing the stories. With JKR happily writing away, I figure we may have about a year until book 7 comes out (okay, I'm optimistic!) and I'd like to do some more thinking and writing before that final book is released. And there's no better place than the HogPro boards for thoughtful discussion and provocative questions. Even better, hanging out there again has compelled me into some re-reading of parts of the books...all six of which are currently piled on my loveseat.

I'm working on a serious essay regarding the ways in which Rowling uses the motif of memory/memories/forgetfulness in the stories. I hope I'll have a chance to finish that eventually and post it here, but it's slow going at the moment since I've done a lot of the fun thinking and now am having to comb through the books for the exact scenes and quotes I need to flesh out the essay. In the meantime, I thought I'd have fun doing some casual reflecting on the stories, and I thought I'd start with some speculation on possible confrontations in book 7.

We know this book will be fraught with all kinds of confrontations, for at least two reasons: the wizarding world is at war and we're winding down to the ultimate showdown, and Rowling has presented us with a complex web of personal relationships throughout the series.

So here's what I'm going to do: reflect on some potential (some possible, some seeming necessary) "meetings" between various characters...pose some thoughts as to why she might or might not go in that direction and what might happen as a result. Some of these thoughts will be serious, and some just pain fun and speculative (and hopefully you'll be able to tell the difference). I'm calling these "meetings" because not all of them will be confrontational in the same way, and not all of them will be initiated from one side. Some of these meetings feel inevitable to the unfolding of Rowling's intricate plotting and to satisfy her beautifully drawn narrative arc. Some of them might not happen, but I think it would be interesting if they did.

So stay tuned. My first post (later tonight I hope) will appropriately focus on the confrontations or meetings that our hero Harry is likely to encounter.

One, Two...Buckle My Bear

My daughter doesn't seem to want to travel anywhere these days without her three favorite travelling bears. She does have a most beloved bear who stays home...he is very old and getting a bit worn and is not generally an outdoor bear. The three bears who travel are a small blue one named "Blueberry" (I think D. or I named him when she was a baby) and then two slightly larger brown bears which she has creatively dubbed "Nose" and "No-Nose." In case you're wondering, they're so named because...well...you guessed it. Nose has a nose and No-Nose doesn't.

When the three bears come on car trips, at her request we usually buckle them into seatbelts next to her booster seat. This led us, a few mornings ago, to the silly phrase "One, Two...Buckle My Bear." The whole family worked together then to come up with a complete rhyme from one - ten. The Boop has been breathlessly quoting it for much of the week:

One, Two...Buckle My Bear
Three, Four...Go to the Fair
Five, Six...Sit on a Chair
Seven, Eight...Comb my Hair
Nine, Ten...Go Way Over There

I really like it! We happened to pick up Ruth Krauss' classic picture book "Bears" last week at the library, but didn't read it until a couple of days after we came up with our poem. And frankly, I think we've got the book beat. If only we could find ourselves the equivalent of a Maurice Sendak to illustrate it.

The Wit and Wisdom of the Man I Married

Once in a while, my DH (that stands for "dear husband" by the way, not "designated hitter" in case all you baseball fans are wondering) says something so wise and humourous that I find myself grinning in delight and rehearsing a prayer of thanks that I married this marvelous man. One of those times was earlier this evening.

We've been busy lately -- basically working four jobs between us and not getting much time together. We had about twenty minutes at the dinner table all together as a family, and then he was rushing out the door to yet another meeting. As I walked him to the door, we happened to be chatting about some of the online articles I've been reading in my attempt to stay up with what's happening in the Anglican communion post General Convention. I was telling him about the 10 questions TIME magazine recently put to the Episcopal Church's presiding bishop elect, Katharine Jefferts-Schori. He asked how she did on the questions and I wrinkled my nose and admitted the answers had been pretty appalling. Especially this answer, which I proceeded to recap for him:

Is belief in Jesus the only way to get to heaven?

We who practice the Christian tradition understand him as our vehicle to the divine. But for us to assume that God could not act in other ways is, I think, to put God in an awfully small box.

I kid you not. The presiding bishop elect of the Episcopal Church in the United States really said this. I think I sounded pretty pained when I told my husband about it. He paused thoughtfully, taking in her answer, and then he lifted his eyebrow, smiled, and said "Well, God put himself in a small box. It was called a manger!"

Can I get an Amen??!

Really. I.love.this.man. My husband cuts through to the heart of things and he often does it with such warmth and wit. He helps me to keep the big things in perspective, and reminds me to keep majoring in the majors, which on certain days can keep me from despair. Thank you, God, for giving him to me!

Even Mountain Girls Long for the Ocean Sometimes

In spite of the fact that I "should spend my summer in the mountains" (see silly quiz I posted earlier this month) I'm actually finding myself longing for the seashore a lot this summer. I think because it's been so long since I've been to the ocean and because the Boop has never seen the sea...and boy, does she want to!

We've been reading some stories by one of her all-time favorite authors, Shirley Hughes, and in at least two of the stories we've read over and over this week, Alfie and his little sister Annie Rose go to the beach. Yesterday my sweet girl got out a blanket and lots of plastic play food (along with her fabric rings and some colorful sponges) and set a feast for her bears in our living room. When I asked what she was doing, she announced "having a picnic at the beach!" Hmm. Well, the carpet is sand colored anyway! When she was done, she packed everything up again in her little doll stroller and a backpack and headed "home" with her furry family -- home being her bedroom.

A picnic at the beach sounded like a great idea to me too, and since we couldn't really get there any other way, taking the imaginative route was a terrific idea. It was a perfect time to bring out a book about another family that had to imagine the seaside too. So we read Charlotte Zolotow's The Seashore Book (see above!) a wonderful story about a little boy who's never seen the ocean, but who goes there by closing his eyes and listening to the beautiful word pictures painted by his mother.

We also made a yummy summer drink. We call it peppermint/apple/lemon drink; I adapted it from a recipe my sister Martha gave me years ago. All you need to do is boil 2 - 2 1/2 cups of water, and then steep a peppermint tea bag or two for a few minutes (how many bags and how long you steep can be adjusted to make peppermint as strong or weak as you'd like). Then add about 1 1/2 - 2 cups of apple juice (I used juicy juice, but any 100% juice or fresh juice should work fine). Finally, add a bit of lemon juice, again adjusted to your taste. I added about a tablespoon. Add ice and you've got a really delicious and not too sweet summer cooler. We liked it so much yesterday we made it again today!

The Odds On Harry

There's been a sudden flurry of renewed media interest in Harry Potter book 7, still being written by author JK Rowling. That's because JKR gave one of her very rare interviews recently, in which she let "drop" a couple of statements about the possible fate of some unnamed characters.

I put "drop" in quotes because JKR, for my money, is one of the most careful and cagey interviewees I've ever seen. She's known for years the shape and ultimate direction of her story, and since the books have become such a publishing phenomenon, with thousands of people speculating on what she's going to do next and what will happen to their favorite characters, she's had to really hug the major plot points close to her chest. She's *good* at that, and I admire her for it because it shows how much she cares about her story. She's also savvy enough to know that fueling speculation from time to time just peaks our interest. But she's not, repeat not, going to give away anything major or anything that we couldn't have perhaps already guessed.

So it's amusing to see the brouhaha that often results from some of her simple statements. People can spin them all kinds of ways. One often quoted exchange from the recent interview is this:

Jo: The final chapter is hidden away, although it has now changed very sightly. One character got a reprieve, but I have to say two die that I didn't intend to die ...

Judy: Two much loved ones?

Jo: Well, you know. A price has to be paid. We are dealing with pure evil. They don't target the extras do they? They go for the main characters, or I do.

and then there was this:

Richard: I was dodging around the death bit, because I know you can't answer that queestion, But you know how Conan-Doyle got sick up to there of Sherlock Holmes ...

Jo: Yeah

Richard: so pushed him off the cliff at the Reichenbech falls, I'm not asking if you have done that obviously, but have you ever been tempted to bump him off because it is such a huge thing in your life.

Jo: I've never been tempted to kill him off before the end of book 7. I have always planned seven books and that is where I want to go, where I want to finish on seven books. But I can completely understand the mentality of an author who thinks well I am going to kill them off because that means there can be no non-author written sequels as they call them, so it will end with me and after I am dead and gone, they would not be able to bring back the character and write a load of ...

Richard: That never struck me before. I thought it would free you up.

Jo: Agatha Christe did that with Poirot, didn't she, she wanted to finish him off herself.

The furor over these quotes seems to come from (A) people being worried because she said two characters will die in book 7 and (B) people thinking perhaps there was a slight slip of the tongue or that she said more than she intended in the "I've never been tempted to kill him off before the end of book 7" line.

Let's look at those in reverse order for a moment, because I think the first one is more interesting.

The "I've never been tempted" quote comes in the context of that long rambling exchange when the interviewer is pushing her on whether or not she's ever been tempted to do Harry in simply because she's tired of writing the character or stories. Rowling charitably goes where the interviewer wants to go here, but it seems pretty clear that she simply means to say that she never would have killed Harry off on a whim. She planned seven stories, and seven stories she will write, no more, no less. She's been clear about that in other interviews. If he dies, and that's still a big if, it will not be until the end and the final confrontation, no sooner. I think it's clear she has some sympathy for other authors who have decided to kill off main characters to stave off unauthorized sequels, but can we really believe that a woman who has so carefully crafted, plotted, themed and envisioned a sub-ceation of these proportions would suddenly decide to kill the hero if she hadn't planned to all along, just to safeguard her literary creation for posterity?! Especially considering she's given tacit approval to thousands of fan-fiction stories about him already. Come on! Let's be honest. Whatever Harry's destiny is, Jo Rowling decided it long, long ago and (here's the important part) it has shaped every bit of the narrative that precedes it. The Harry Potter sories are grand stories, and teleologically shaped.

Now, having said that, I'm going to go out on a limb and say the most interesting part of the interview was that she said two characters that she had not intended to kill (and not just any two characters, but two "main" characters) have died thus far in the writing of the book 7. The fact that at least two characters are going to die is not gasp-worthy in and of itself, considering the wizarding world is now in an all-out war against Voldemort and his minions. But it is interesting to note that two characters have died that Rowling herself did not expect to kill off, and "one got a reprieve." Hmm. Even more interesting.

I think this says volumes about Rowling's artistry and creativity. She has set herself firm limits as to the ultimate scope and shape of her story, but within those limits, she is writing freely and still exploring where the narrative wants to go. She is still choosing among the smaller "what ifs" even with the grand finale in view. That's exciting. Like "fireworks in your pocket" (as a professor of mine once described the dance of freedom/limits when writing traditional poetic forms). What this tells us is that the story's very much still in process, a living, breathing story whose rich depths and implications are still being played out in the fertile imagination of its author. Wow! Book 7 is going to be stunning.

Of course newspapers and magazines have picked up on the various quotes and have begun running odds on who's going to die. I opened this week's copy of *Entertainment Weekly* to find the headline "Will Harry Potter Die?" imposed over a picture of movie-Harry leaping from the unseen clutches of the Hungarian Horntail. The story speculated on which characters might or might not die, and gave some rather brief and lame reasons for its conclusions. In case you're curious, they gave Voldemort even odds and the odds on Harry are 9-2. (More evidence of her artistry --that we're still this unsure this late in the game!) Hagrid's 3-2, Ginny's 6-1, Snape is 2-1 (though I was surprised they thought he would die a martyr on the right side; I wasn't sure that idea had caught on in mainstream media); Ron 20-1, and Hermione 50-1. Frankly, I think they missed a whole plethora of just as likely possibilities, all of whom could be considered "main" characters in some sense. Let's not forget the rest of the Weasleys (Percy, anyone?), Peter Pettigrew, Draco Malfoy and Remus Lupin, just for starters.

And let's not forget that Harry DID survive that Hungarian Horntail. He's "the boy who lived," you know. It was the title of the very first chapter in the very first book. Wouldn't it be a wonderful title for the last chapter too?

More thoughts on Harry soon!

Anthropology, Not Theology

I'm still reading blogs and articles on the recent General Convention of the Episcopal Church, and the continuing "sorting out" that the Anglican communion is doing in light of recent actions and inactions of the American church. I'm doing this in part because I want to, and in part because I need to... I'm teaching the course on Episcopal Ethos again this fall and need to be very clear in my thoughts on the present crisis. Not always easy in the midst of a very busy season of life, and lately it seems like all seasons are busy!

Anyway, be all that as it may, I just read one of the shortest and most helpful summations of the problem of the theological crisis in the church. This is from the blog of Fleming Rutledge, Episcopal priest and well-known author. She writes:

"Never has it been more obvious that the ruling theology of ECUSA is not theology at all, but anthropology. We are going to build the reign of God. We are going to develop relationships. We are waging reconciliation. We are admiring the creation (which apparently is not fallen or in need of redemption). There is no room here for God to do anything."

Note: she emphasizes the word "we" in italics at the beginning of each sentence, to drive the point home. For some reason I can't get html tags to work in this post, or I would have copied it exactly.

Of course by that last comment she doesn't mean, I don't think, that God cannot work where ever he so chooses to work (even in places where it may seem impossible to us!). What I hear her say is that the leadership of the church is not really leaving much of a place for God to do anything, nor do they see much of a need for God to do anything, either because they think everything's all right or because they're handling things just fine on their own, thanks. Perhaps not surprising that contemporary cisis of theology in the anglican tradition was born from the ashes of deism.

Reminds me of that wonderful poem by Sir Thomas Browne:

"If thou coulds't empty all thy self of self,
Like to a shell dishabited,
Then might He find thee on the ocean shelf,
And say, "This is not dead,"
And fill thee with Himself instead.

But thou are all replete with very thou
And hast such shrewd activity,
That when He comes He says, "This is enow
Unto itself -- 'twere better let it be,
It is so small and full, there is no room for me."

********

Importantly, Rutledge also adds "The traditionalists/orthodox/evangelicals -- or whatever we are -- are in grave danger of falling into the same modes of labeling, sneering, dismissing, demonizing and so forth as the theological liberals, if indeed we have not already done so in a manner fatal to our committments."

On that last, I have to say several things: I'm grateful for the admonition which I think we need to heed; I'm prayerful that it will not be so (please Lord, don't let it be so); and I'm wondering what she's seen or heard that makes her sound so grave toward the end of the statement. Much of what I have read from orthodox anglican evangelicals in recent weeks has been humble, sound and charitable -- though I've been trying to stay with blogs and articles of people I know and trust at least by reputation.

I just pray that we will not be "replete with very thou." Stuffed with self is the the way I often think of it, and in this time of painful and necessary change in the communion, I pray that we won't be. May we leave room for God to do what He needs to do -- indeed that we will realize that only God can do what needs to be done, through us, around us, even in spite of us -- to bring about his glorious kingdom purposes in the church and in the world.

"Idols Can't Answer Our Prayers!"

My dear four year old daughter (I do love saying that!) declared this truth to me last night during family prayers.

We've been working on learning about the ten commandments for the past couple of weeks. It just so happens, in a beautiful bit of unplanned (by us) synchronicity, our family Bible reading during our evening candle-lighting has been focused on the prophets. For several nights in a row we were reading stories about the prophet Elijah and how he told -- and showed! -- bad king Ahab and the prophets of Baal that there is only one true God. Their idols, the little gods they prayed to, couldn't hear them or answer their prayers.

The Boop has really soaked this in, and keeps connecting it to the first two commandments. I think we drew that connection for her originally, but she keeps coming back to it. "The people broke the first two commandments," she keeps saying.

But it was last night that I could tell she was really "getting it." Because when she suddenly crowed out "idols can't answer our prayers!" she actually said it with a chortle and added something giggly along the lines of "they can't hear us!" And I had to laugh along with her. I must add that the laughter felt very biblical. Elijah himself, along with the prophet Isaiah, sees the absurdity of attributing "real" attributes to unreal "gods" made by human hands. They don't have hands or eyes or ears. So when we try to get them to meet our needs, they simply can't. Maybe they went out for a stroll or are taking a nap, Elijah suggests sarcastically, and it's a bit of dark humour, but it's humour nonetheless. No wonder my daughter got the giggles!

Of course it's humour within the context of God's tremendous compassion for his people -- the people of Elijah's day as well as our own -- who persist in making idols, who keep thinking that they (we) can receive guidance, love, hope, fulfilmment, help, from things or people that shouldn't have God's place in our lives. The reason Elijah and Amos and Jeremiah and Isaiah and others kept bellowing, whispering, and singing God's reality into the ears of bad kings and confused false prophets and clueless sinners was because God longed for them to know Him -- know Him as the real and living God who alone made them and who made them for himself, not for some unreal substitute.

Somehow I Knew This Already...

It's late and I'm tired, but I just took one of those lovely, silly quizzes...and for a change, it came out just the way I would have guessed it would!

You Should Spend Your Summer in the Mountains

You're quiet, introspective, and a great thinker. You need a summer vacation that gets you away from the crowds and the heat. So retreat to the mountains, where you can clear your head.

Where Should You Spend Your Summer?

Ah....wishful thinking!
So where should you spend your summer?

Interesting Publishing Trend

Two interesting and separate stories in Publishers' Weekly "Religion Bookline" this week -- I don't know if two such events could be properly called a "trend" yet, but it seems to be tending that way.

Two excellent Christian publishers, InterVarsity and Baker, have recently announced new publishing ventures aimed toward twenty-somethings. IVP is actually launching a new line called "Likewise," as in "Go then and do likewise." Quote from the publisher: "We are trying to empower this particularly activist generation and age, when people are more inclined to be audacious in their faith, by providing them resources to be thoughtfully active and actively thoughtful." IVP is already actively cultivating writers from this age group to write for this age group.

Baker's going to produce a new series of books in partnership with Emergent Village, appropriately called "Emersion." Quote from PW on the publisher's understanding of the genre: "Baker calls “’the emerging church conversation’ a movement of those seeking to explore new opportunities for Christianity, and how the church will meet the challenges and opportunities of the 21st century.”

Two very good publishers. Important, timely approaches. Exciting generation. Stay tuned for some good reading!

The Booper Girl Tells A Story

We're still recovering from the Booper's fourth birthday this past Tuesday. Yes, my sweet girl is four! So hard to believe, but the evidence is in front of my eyes each day. She is growing and changing so much all the time.

The presents have retained their novelty even after forty-eight hours, but of course almost better than any of the lovely gifts from family and friends are the leftover balloons from the party. At the moment my kitchen floor is covered in about a dozen balloons of various colors and various stages of deflation. She spent part of the early afternoon kicking them, throwing them, and just in general batting them around...all the while chatting about what she was doing.

In fact, she informed me that she wanted to make up a story about playing with the balloons. So of course I encouraged her to go ahead and even said I would write it down as she told it, a suggestion she greeted with great enthusiasm. So without further ado, I present to you "BALLOONS," a story dictated to me by my beautiful four year old daughter. Frankly, I think she's got a great story-telling rhythm. And I'm not biased. Not at all. Really. (Smile.)

*******
One day the balloons bounced so high and she caught one! She caught the balloons and threw them right up in the air! One day a red balloon floated so high and she caught it, and she missed it and she tried to catch it but she didn't catch it because it landed so fast on the floor. One day she threw a pink balloon so high and they bounced so high. One day she had lots and lots of balloons and she tried to catch it but of course she couldn't catch it. It was so big and so fat.
*******

What I'm Reading...Here at Summer's True Beginning

I know summer feels like it's been underway since Memorial Day, but on the calendar, it officially began this past Wednesday. I've had cause to remember it as the Boop was very excited about the first real day of summer, and we counted down to it for pretty much the last week of spring. Now that the season has arrived, she keeps reminding us how many days have passed, as in "today's the fourth day of summer...!" The other evening she prayed "And thank you Jesus for a good second day of summer," which made my heart almost burst with grateful smiles.

I've not done a "reading round-up" in a while, and probably should...though this casual posting will likely take the place of that. I had good intentions when the year started about keeping an official LIST of everything I'm reading, but it just isn't happening. So here, in no order except the order of how they come to me, are a few rambles on where my reading attention's been focused of late.

Current church events/theology. I'm mostly reading blog posts and journal articles on the recent General Convention. Kendall Harmon has the best blog at "titusonenine" -- it's an amazing repository of analysis from all perspectives, which keeps me grounded in both charity and clarity. I'm also busy plowing my way through the 34 page docoument on Trinitarian language recently written/distributed at the Presbyterian General Assembly. There's been a big brouhaha over some of the reommendations made there, and I decided I neded to see for myself what the fuss is about. It's interesting reading thus far, more orthodox and worth chewing on than I expected (at least they're still doing theological reflection in that denomination!) but with some problematic areas.

I'm also reading Brian MacLaren's Generous Orthodoxy (good, thought-provoking read, though not quite as radical as I expected, at least in the first few chapters).

Mysteries. My biggest fiction time lately has been spent with mysteries. I think I've now read every Dorothy Simpson novel I can reasonbly get my hands on, barring inter-library loan. I haven't bothered listing them all here because their names are all alike (and most have "death" somewhere in the title!). After awhile the books begin to run into each other and blur a bit too - she really stuck to a formula but it's one I like so I don't mind. They feel like comfort food. I'm also reading the second Ian Rutledge mystery by Charles Todd. Good stuff, but much harder to get into and stay into than the Simpson, though perhaps more rewarding in the end.

Kate DiCamillo. I love her work. All of it. And I'm especially in love with The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane which I just finished on Friday -- and finished reviewing for Epinions today. Score two for DiCamillo -- this and Because of Winn-Dixie are two of my favorite juvenile novels/stories from the past decade. What beautiful writing. She's up there with Katherine Paterson and Patrica MacLachlan for me now.

Have almost finised Dear Genius -- Ursula Nordstrom's letters. The final third feels like I'm slogging through molasses, which is really weird because the first 2/3 went like lightning. I was staying up late at night to read those letters. I don't know if it's me or the book (I have a theory, which I'll try to work out when I review it) but my interst is waning a bit. Of course it's a lengthy collection.

Devotionally, I'm tackling Tom Wright's Hebrews for Everyone -- trying to read one passage from Hebrews followed by his reflection each day.

Also reading some stuff on homeschooling...but it's late and I just realized how tired and stiff my back is. I work in the morning, which means more hours at a desk. I'd really better call it quits and get some rest.

"Are you a slacker Mom?"

I'm not entirely sure what a "slacker Mom" is, but according to the results of this silly personality quiz I took, apparently I'm not one. In fact, here are my results:

Are You a Slacker Mom? Your quiz results make you a Smarty Pants Mom

Smart parents like you have smart kids. They need plenty of intellectual stimulation and you provide them with all they need, plus lots of love. You know how to help them with algebra homework, and you are superior at kissing boo-boos. Take this free personality test by Clicking Here>> or going to www.areyouaslackermom.com

********

Well, I don't know about algebra homework -- thankfully we're a few years away from that still. But yes, I'm pretty good at kissing boo-boos. The Boop got her first majorly skinned knee this past week, which has sprouted an impressive scab. Just in time for that fourth birthday party next week!

I knew just how motherood had influenced my very core when I took another one of these silly quizzes when the Booper was about two. It was one of those "which Pooh character are you?" quizzes, and I assumed I was going to come out as Piglet. I've always suspected I have an inner Piglet. But no, somewhere along the way, I'd morphed into Kanga....

By the way, is there a Mr. Kanga anywhere? Milne never brings him up.

Sorry for the silliness of this posting, but I know I've got some more deep reflections coming soon (theology...ecclesiology...history...) so I thought I'd make sure I inject little levity into the week. :-)

Wearing My Church History Hat

I had pretty much decided that I wouldn't post anything concerning the General Convention of the Episcopal Church being held this week in Columbus, OH. In general, this blog is really for my reflections on books...though I've realized in recent weeks the scope of my reflections has been expanding.

Besides the fact that I don't often care to comment publically on church politics, there's the fact that hundreds of other bloggers are already saying what needs to be said. However, as someone who loves Jesus, loves the Church, has been blessed to be a part of the Anglican tradition for over a decade, and who teaches Church History from time to time, I just can't seem to help but make a couple of comments.

I'm grieved but not terribly surprised by the Convention's actions this week. I had hoped that the Lord might yet knock a couple of prominent leaders off their horses, so to speak, shine the light of truth full on them as they travelled the Damascus Road and wake up their hearts. God is in the business of changing lives and hearts. People can repent.

But it seems that, at the moment, God is allowing the Episcopal Church in the U.S. to go on their undisciplined and uncharitable way. I'm not sure why, but I trust his higher purposes for the church -- both the church here in the U.S. and the church around the world.

The fact that ECUSA did not repent of their actions in 2003 was not surprising. The election of a woman as presiding bishop was surprising. Both actions send a very strong message to the rest of the global communion, and it's not a message of reconciliation. I know, to my deep sadness, that many people involved in these decisions view them as cutting edge, revolutionary and even prophetic. What they primarily are, it seems to me, is rude and self-serving, but in keeping with the modernist liberal theology that has held sway over much of the denomination in recent years.

Please hear me: my problem with the new presiding bishop's gender is in a different category than my problems with her theology. I understand, yea I even ache a bit, for the many, many Christians around the world who stand on a long history of church tradition and who do not accept or approve of women priests and bishops, including many of our own Anglican primates. That's why choosing a woman was a particular slap in the face to the the rest of the communion, especially at this critical juncture in our strained relations with the rest of the global church, because it shows that we're continuing to go on our merry way without regard for their feelings and concerns, and without humble recognition of the fact that the ordination of women has a relatively short history in the institutionalized church (I'm not talking about women's ministry, which has a long and hallowed tradition going way back to Jesus). But it's not ++Schori's gender that's the real problem here, it's her theology, and in that regard perhaps nothing much has changed at all, because it's the same ol', same ol'.

I confess I did find it a bit troubling to hear a statement of a theologically conservative diocese (can't recall which one right now) immediately raising questions of apostolic succession because of her election. It's understandable -- because she will be consecrating other bishops then of course that's an issue that will be raised, but what I don't understand is why we don't raise it more often with other bishops in the church, most of whom are male. If one has a completely physical/mechanistic view of sucession, then of course, anyone who has had hands laid on them properly in a consecration is "in apostolic sucession." And of course anyone who holds that because Jesus was male all valid bishops must be male is going to have a major problem with the consecration of a woman.

But my understanding of apostolic succession is deeper than that. If you look at the early history of the church, and of subsequent church history, it seems to me that the Holy Spirit has safeguarded the church and the message of the gospel to a hurting world through bishops and teachers who were faithful to apostolic teaching. That's where the rubber meets the road. If you have a faithful bishop who holds to the gospel, then that bishop is in apostolic succession. And in a less historic but somehow very real sense, every Christian who faithfully holds to the teaching of the apostles carries on in that line (my colors as a daughter of the Reformation really flying high right now!). It seems to me that in many ways the quiet but faithful passing on of the faith in families and communities down through the ages has as just about as much to do with apostolic succession as the consecration of bishops. I'm not saying the church doesn't need faithful bishops -- one reason I'm an Anglican is because I think collegial authority and mutual accountability is a very good thing and necessary thing. But the key for me is that the church needs faithful bishops, not just bishops. And when we lose that kind of faithful leadership, then the whole structure is in danger of capsizing.

More soon. I commend N.T. Wright's comments on the Windsor Report resolutions and Bishop Nazir-Ali's sermon on the Holy Spirit, both documents that have gotten a lot of attention in recent days.

...And the Passion (and Compassion) of Youth

I have to say how impressed and moved I was by our church's youth group this past weekend. The youth pastor who happens to be my DH (dear husband) coordinated events for a 30-Hour famine. 14 kids and 6 leaders fasted for 30 hours and did service projects in the community to raise funds for World Vision to help hungry children around the world. They also did some service projects in the church as volunteers, most notably some heavy-duty cleaning on the third floor.

The memory I will carry with me was a young woman we've really grown to admire, K.A., standing on the side of the road on Friday afternoon, holding her donation can and calling out to passing cars. The kids did a concert in the gazebo park in the center of town (inviting their friends in bands to play; our church band also did a set). They also sold baked goods and did face painting (Boop got another butterfly on her cheek...I got a flower!). They all worked hard, but I was really struck by the energy and passion of K.A. She kept crying out "a dollar a day feeds a hungry child!" and there was no false guilt-tripping or salesmanship about it...she was not shouting out an empty slogan. She just genuinely implored people from her heart, spoke the truth. These kids felt such passion about what they were doing, a real desire to find some way to meet needs in a broken and hungry world. How good of God to answer those desires by helping them to raise so much. For such a small group, they did an amazing job, and because of World Vision's matching grants, food will be provided to 16 hungry children for a whole year.

That's passion and compassion in action!

The Audacity of Youth

Continuing my delicious read of Ursula Nordstrom's letters, and came across a bit of information that made me recall a wonderfully audacious moment from my adolescence.

Charlotte Zolotow started out in the world of children's publishing as Ursula Nordstrom's secretary. Later on she became a distinguished author and editor in her own right. OK, you say, that's great. So what?

I happen to have a letter from Charlotte Zolotow in my files. An actual typewritten (yes, typewritten) letter with a signature. It was a reply to a query I sent to Harper's when I was sixteen years old. I actually wrote to Charlotte Zolotow to pitch the idea for a picture book I'd already written.

The book was called Homer and was the story of a leaf that turned red on a tree where almost all of the other leaves turned yellow. He was teased and got embarrassed about how different he was, but in the end, he became immortalized in a little girl's beautiful collage. It was, if I say so myself, a pretty good story. I wrote a lot during my high school years, and my love of children's literature had given me a pretty good story-telling sense and rhythm. My dad helped me reproduce the text (we actually enlarged my typewritten sheets on a photocopier... this was still a few years before everyone had a computer) and we pasted the words on cardstock. He did beautiful illustrations for it and we actually bound it by hand. I still have the book -- I've not yet shared it with the Boop because it's sort of fragile now and I think she will appreciate it more later and treat it more gently too.

I'm getting sidetracked. I did not send the book or even a whole typewritten manuscript to Charlotte Zolotow. I knew enough to know that I should simply send a query letter and share my idea, which I did. I don't have a copy of that original letter I wrote, but I do have her very gracious reply. (I just re-found it in my files a few months ago. The fact that I can't find it right this moment is not an indication of how I feel about it but an indication of the utter disarray of my files. Sigh.)

CZ, as Ursula Nordstrom called her, took me seriously. She told me that she didn't think they could offer to publish my book successfully because the theme of someone mocked for being different but triumphing in the end was a tried and true one that had been done before, perhaps best in Hans Christian Anderson's "The Ugly Duckling," which had been one of my favorites in childhood. She told me I'd made an "impressive start" to my "writing career" (I still remember how much those few words meant to me) and encouraged me to read everything I could and to keep writing.

What a treasure of a letter. And what an audacious thing for me to do, to send a letter to such a respected editor at such an established publishing house. Of course, I had no clue then of what a part she had played in helping to publish renowned 20th century children's lit. I don't even think I knew any of her stories. If I'm remembering rightly, I picked her name out of a market listing because...I thought it was pretty. :-)

When I look back on all that now, I have to smile. And I have to marvel at a few things:

• my early passion for writing
• my early confidence in the stories I was writing
• the fact that a letter from an unpublished and naive sixteen year old could get through to a senior editor at Harper's and actually elicit a personal response

The first two reflections make me glad; the third one sad. Harper's, along with most other major publishing houses, no longer accepts unsolicited manuscripts or queries. I suspect a letter from me now, twenty-two years later, would not even make it into a slush pile to be read by the most junior of editors, much less responded to in any way. As I read Nordstrom's letters, and as I reflect on how the world of children's book publishing has changed in recent years, I realize it's lost a certain kind of personal, family-like atmosphere, in which young talent could be welcomed and encouraged. Nowadays it's mostly just bottom-line business (which is one reason I think my recent reading of It's a Bunny Eats Bunny World left me feeling somewhat discouraged about any chance I might have to get published in this field).

Ah well. I've definitely wandered far afield here. Mostly just wanted to reflect on how grateful I am for the audacity of youth, and to celebrate a small (very small) connection with the historic Ursula Nordstrom whose letters I've been enjoying so much this week.

The Influence of a Good Editor

I've been reading Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom. What an amazing woman and what a lively collection of letters!

Nordstrom was the director of Harper's Department of Books for Boys and Girls from 1940-1973, and as such, she was highly influential in the area of American children's literature for decades. You may have never heard of her, but among other things, she discovered Maurice Sendak (who was designing window displays for F.A.O. Schwarz) and helped bring to birth such children's classics as Charlotte's Web, Good Night, Moon, Harold and the Purple Crayon, Where the Wild Things Are, and the I Can Read Series that featured the Little Bear stories. And that's just a a sampling. She worked with some of the most innovative authors and illustrators in the business.

And when I say worked with them, I don't just mean discovered their talent, corrected their punctuation, or made a kind suggestion now and again. What's revelatory about her letters is how hard a good editor works over every detail of a book, even a picture book with relatively few words. Nordstrom had a knack for encouraging her writers, lavishing praise on their good work and challenging the work they gave her that she considered less than good. She pushed them to find just the right words, and to create pictures that really brought literature to life. Her letters to E.B. White over the rough drawings by Garth Williams for Charlotte's Web almost made me laugh, she was so earnest about getting things just right, literally line by line. I discovered that I also have her to thank for one of my favorite illustrations from childhood, the picture of Esther Averill's Jenny the cat doing the sailor's hornpipe (where you can just see one paw lifting over the basket). The image was in the text, but Nordstrom encouraged Averill to draw it.

I'm very glad she stayed a children's book editor, as that was her main love. In one of the letters she relates a funny story about a member of Harper's management taking her to lunch to offer her a job as an editor in one of the "grown-up" book divisions. His implication was clear: that she'd be "moving up" if she took such a job. And Nordstrom wrote this to describe her own response:

"I almost pushed the luncheon table into the lap of the pompous gentleman opposite me and then explained kindly that publishing children's books was what I did, that I couldn't possibly be interested in books for dead dull finished adults, and thank you very much but I had to get back to my desk to publish some more good books for bad children."

I hope that quote gives you an indication of the lively quality of her voice and personality, which by all accounts was larger than life. Wonderful letters!

"Open My Eyes That I May See..."

Tonight at family prayers, we got out some of our older Bible verse cards we hadn't done in a while. One of them was Psalm 119:18, which reads "Open my eyes that I may see wonderful things in your law..."

When we first started doing these cards with the Boop, probably a year or so ago, she wasn't talking much yet. I used picture prompts to help her learn the Scripture verses, and our usual method of reviewing them was for me to read the whole verse and just pause before the key word or phrase that was pictured on the front of the card and that we wanted her to be able to remember. This particular card has a picture of a face, a person with very vivid eyes, and the key word was "eyes."

We hadn't done this one in a while, so I went ahead and read the first two words "Open my..." and paused. "Eyes," my little daughter said quickly. I went on to "that I may see..." and decided to pause again to see if she'd remember the last words of the verse. She paused for a moment, and then said, quite simply "good things about God."

And I felt astounded. More astounded really than if she'd remembered the actual words. Every once in a while, in a parent's life, comes a happy and beautiful moment when you realize that the things you're striving to teach your little ones are actually sinking in and taking root. "Good things about God" -- those are exactly what we are praying that her open eyes are learning to see, wherever she goes. I felt proud and humbled and very, very thankful.

Happy Pentecost!