It's been a very book-centered day today. In Catalunya, where we used to live, it’s the equivalent of Valentine’s Day, known as La Diada De Sant Jordi, as St George is also their patron saint. As it’s UNESCO World Book Day (and Cervantes' and Shakespeare’s birthdays), it's tradational to give a rose and a book to the person you love, and you may also be lucky enough to receive roses and books from your colleagues and friends. The 'passeigs' in the centre of Barcelona are filled with book stalls and couples spend the evening promenading and choosing books to give – there's a really lovely atmosphere.
It is also, of course, World Book Night tonight – there was no one handing out books that I could spot in Canary Wharf today (note to self, must register for next year), though my mother was given a copy of Pride & Prejudice in Newcastle today. In honour of WBN, here's a quick round-up of what we're reading in this house tonight - I'm reading Mother’s Milk, the fourth of the Patrick Melrose novels by Edward St Aubyn (which I'd really recommend), S is reading Claudine at St. Clare's by Enid Blyton, T will be reading his Sant Jordi present, Seeing further, edited by Bill Bryson, D read Dinosaurs love underpants by Claire Freedman and Ben Cort, which he has read every night for the past two weeks, and E fell asleep before she read anything.
Last week was also
London Book Fair - the biggest UK publishing conference which covers all aspects of book publishing from small independent publishers to trade press, B2B, child
This week is part of International Fortnight at the girls' school. Like many London primary schools, we are lucky to have children from all over the world - there are more than 50 languages spoken (such a contrast with my own primary school, which spoke mainly Geordie). The children have practised Bulgarian country dances, taken the register in Spanish and written their own versions of one of my favourite picture books, Handa's surprise, amongst many many other activities.
The school is about to link with an Indian primary school so tonight we read
What? No Bananas?, written and illustrated by Kaushik Viswanath and Shilpa Ranade, who are based in Chennai and Mumbai respectively.
On Friday the girls will go to school in national costume - S was born in Spain which means they get to wear fabulous flamenco dresses rather than England football shirts,
gracias a dios! Unfortunately (for me), it also requires that I do some Spanish cooking as there is an international food tasting day tomorrow. My Spanish friend Julia makes a fantastic Spanish
empanada, which looks and tastes like you're sitting in a bar in Galicia (if only!). Even though I use her recipe, mine looks more like it's from
Greggs...You can take the girl out of Newcastle but you cannae take Newcastle out of the girl...
Lots of witches about tonight...
We began with the friendly, incompetent picture book witches of Julia Donaldson's
Room on the Broom, Nick Sharratt's
The Foggy Foggy Forest and Laura Owen & Korky Paul's
Winnie the Witch...
Once the children were safely tucked up in bed, I went in search of the darker, more malignant witches of the older stories...Hans Christian Andersen's sea witch in
The Little Mermaid and the witch queen of
The Wild Swans, the old crone in
Rapunzel (here beautifully drawn by Jane Ray)...
...and Alan Garner's terrifying Old Witch...
So the old witch went after her; and found her; and broke her bones;
and buried her under the marble stones.
(about to be
reissued by HarperCollins, hurrah! Hopefully with the same beautiful prints by Derek Collard).
...ending with one of my very favourite witches, Diana Wynne Jones' Gwendolyn Chant...
Happy Halloween!
Well, following our exploration of Jacqueline Wilson's world, S chose Lizzie Zipmouth to read from the Seven Stories splendid bookshop.
The eponymous Lizzie deals with the difficulties of step-families, unreliable parents and learning to trust, all told in Jacqueline Wilson's typically direct and engaging manner.
I was (and still am, to be honest) slightly wary of the subject matter because it seems, well, just so
adult for a seven year old, though clearly there are many children this age and younger who have to confront these kinds of issues every day. Perhaps I live a rather sheltered life but I'd quite like my seven year old to live a sheltered life, for the time being at least. S read it quickly (all of it, in fact, in one go) and clearly enjoyed it. She said the book started off "really sad but ended up happy" and that Lizzie was a "strong" girl but that she liked the story mainly because of Lizzie's step-great-gran's large collection of dolls.
And while S is easily scared (she won't go near the
Famous Five because of their dangerous adventures), she didn't seem in the slightest bit disturbed by reading about adults who can be abusive or who don't always have their children's best interests at heart. I was trying to think of other authors that S has read who have similarly awful adults.
Roald Dahl is the obvious choice here - the horrendous Mr and Mrs Wormwood and Miss Trunchbull from
Matilda are just one example. But Jacqueline Wilson doesn't give her characters super-powers to deal with the problems they face. No Magic Finger or Marvellous Medicine. Perhaps that's why I find her stories so much more difficult to read.
By:
Maggie Summers,
on 7/4/2007
Blog:
A Latte a Day
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I found the most fun and creative gal who has a talent with food and I just have to share it with you here, here and here. Wishing you a happy 4th of July! God Bless America and pray for the safety of our troops until they can return home.
Originally uploaded by !a.k.a.Maggie!
Next to my bed I have two books that I've been meaning to get to for ages. The boy in the striped pajamas and the Rabbit Proof Fence. Have I opened them? No. Best I get off the computer!