pegkerr | Books for May, 2005

Inkheart by Cornelia Funk. First time read. I saw that

desayunoencama also read it this month and didn't find it as charming as I did. I identified strongly with the story of a parent and child's love being intertwined with their mutual love of books--perhaps that was the difference; I'm a parent who has had the experience of introducing plenty of beloved books to my children? I shuddered in complete sympathy with the horror of what the father's mistake meant: he couldn't read aloud to his beloved daughter. I also felt the full horror of what Capricorn did to Elinor: not a killing, not a maiming, but a hurt that struck absolutely at the core of her heart.

The Thief Lord by Cornelia Funk. First time read. A rather intriguing premise, I thought, which speaks to what many children long for the most: the wish to be seen as competent, in command of their own fate. And I thought that Scipio's story was interesting, the root of his problem of why he kept his background cloaked in mystery. I also thought it was amusingly fresh to have the case being handled by a rather unsuccessful (perhaps incompetent) detective.

The Secret Country by

pameladean. Re-read.

The Hidden Land by

pameladean. Re-read.

The Whim of the Dragon by

pameladean. Re-read. Actually, this was only the second time I've read all three of these books, which seems odd, when I've read others of her books many more times. (esp. Tam Lin and Juniper, Gentian and Rosemary). All the years of going to the Shakespeare reading group helped add to my enjoyment. I was surprised to discover that there were vast sections I didn't remember at all, which is not my usual experience when I re-read books. (OTOH, I have a hazy memory that I might have been pregnant when I read them the first time, which would explain everything; I didn't have a brain for months at the time when I was gestating.) One thing I wondered about a great deal was Patrick's attitude toward magic. He is portrayed as a materialist/skeptic who doesn't believe in magic at all when he lands in the magical world (and very interesting it is to compare him, for example, to Lord Andrew, who doesn't seem to believe in magic, either). Actually, a great deal of effort and time is spent, especially in the first book, in trying to address the question "Is what is happening to us real or not?" I wondered, given his attitude, why Patrick would have been interested in playing the game for so many years in the first place--probably because he thought it was a game, and therefore he could "play at it" without taking it seriously? (And after all, how different is that from the sorts of lines we draw in our own imaginations?) The other children seemed to find coping with Patrick stressful: why did they keep playing with him? Because he was so young when they all started, that he just was accepted as a part of the game, no matter how infuriating he grew up to be?

Am now reading Tolkien's The Monsters and the Critics, so that will start next month's list (thanks for lending it to me,

pameladean!)