Which five words best describe There Was an Old Dragon Who Swallowed a Knight? Penny Parker Klostermann: Colorful, rollicking, humorous, deliciously warped.

Fans of Rachel Hartman’s breath-taking imagination and startling humane characters, dragons or otherwise, will marvel and mourn as Seraphina’s journey—at least on the page—comes to an end.

In the kingdom of Goredd, humans and dragons have lived and worked side by side for more than forty years, a treaty of peace signed, and the past war forgotten. But when a member of the royal family is brutally murdered and the finger of blame points to dragons, it appears that not all is forgotten, or forgiven.

Shadow Scale jumped out at me. It was more complex than it first appeared, I realized in that moment, because “scale” could mean several different things.

Enter to win a copy of Seraphina, written by Rachel Hartman, and the newest release, Shadow Scale (Seraphina: Book Two). Giveaway begins March 9, 2015, at 12:01 A.M. PST and ends April 8, 2015, at 11:59 P.M. PST.

An absolutely fascinating read for teens and anyone who is interested in a richly described account of imperialist Russia.

Much of the comment on the official photographic portrait of the Queen released in April this year to celebrate her 88^th birthday focussed on her celebrity photographer, David Bailey, who seemed to have ‘infiltrated’ (his word) the bosom of the establishment. Less remarked on, but equally of note, is that the very informal pose that the queen adopted showed her smiling, and not only smiling but also showing her teeth.

It is only very recently that monarchs have cracked a smile for a portrait, let alone a smile that revealed teeth. Before the modern age, monarchs embodied power – and power rarely smiles. Indeed it has often been thought to be worrying when it does. Prime Minister Tony Blair’s endlessly flashing teeth caused this powerful statesman to trigger as much suspicion as approval. The negative reaction was testimony to an unwritten law of portraiture, present until very recently in western art. According to this, an open mouth signifies plebeian status, extreme emotion, or else folly and licence, bordering on insanity. As late as the eighteenth century, an individual who liked to be depicted smiling as manifestly as Tony Blair would have risked being locked up as a lunatic.

The individual who broke this unwritten law of western portraiture was Louise Élisabeth Vigée Le Brun whose charming smile –- at once twinklingly seductive and reassuringly maternal – was displayed at the Paris Salon in 1787. It appears on the front cover of my book, The Smile Revolution in Eighteenth-Century Paris. The French capital had witnessed the emergence of modern dentistry over the course of the century – a subject that has been largely neglected. In addition, the city’s elites adopted the polite smile of sensibility that they had learned from the novels of Samuel Richardson and Jean-Jacques Rousseau. Madame Vigée Le Brun’s smile shocked the artistic establishment and the stuffy court elite out at Versailles, who still observed tradition, but it marked the advent of white teeth as a positive attribute in western art.

Yet if Vigée Le Brun’s example was followed by many of the most eminent artists of her day (David, Ingres, Gérard, etc), the white tooth smile took much longer to establish itself as a canonical and approved portrait gesture. The eighteenth century’s ‘Smile Revolution’ aborted after 1789. Politics under the French Revolution and the Terror were far too serious to accommodate smiles. The increasingly gendered world of separate spheres consigned the smile to the domestic environment. And for most of the nineteenth century, monarchs and men of power in the public sphere, following traditional modes of the expression of gravitas, invariably presented a smile-less face to the world.

Probably the first reigning monarch to have a portrait painted that revealed white teeth was Queen Victoria. This may seem surprising given her famous penchant for staying resolutely ‘unamused’. Yet in 1843, she commissioned the German portrait-painter Franz-Xaver Winterhalter to paint a delightfully informal study, that showed the twenty-four year-old monarch reclining on a sofa revealing her teeth in a dreamy and indeed mildly aroused smile. Yet the conditions of the portrait’s commission showed that the seemly old rules were still in place. For Victoria had commissioned the portrait as a precious personal gift for her ‘angelic’ husband, Prince Albert. What she called her ‘secret picture’ was hung in the queen’s bedroom and was not seen in public throughout her reign. Indeed, its display in an exhibition in 2009, over a century after her death, marked only its second public showing since its creation. This was three years after Rolf Harris’s 2006 portrayal of the queen with a white-tooth smile, a significant precursor to David Bailey’s photograph.

If English monarchs have thus been late-comers to the twentieth-century smile-fest, their subjects have been baring their teeth in a smile for many decades. As early as the 1930s and 1940, the practice of saying ‘cheese’ when confronted with a camera became the norm. Hollywood-style studio photography, advertising models and more relaxed forms of sociability and subjectivity have combined to produce the twentieth century’s very own Smile Revolution. So it is worth reflecting whether the reigning monarch’s early twenty-first century acceptance of the smile’s progress will mark a complete and durable revolution in royal portraiture. Seemingly only time – and the Prince of Wales – will tell.

The post Royal teeth and smiles appeared first on OUPblog.

        

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I read an interesting article about Spanish royalty this week and it got me thinking about monarchies.  The article specifically mentioned the king’s 8 year-old granddaughter who was soon to become a princess. She won’t rule yet, but there have been many examples in history of children leading countries. Have you ever thought about that? I think of my kids when they were eight and would be very concerned about the consequences of them having absolute power. Worse yet, what would I have done as a reigning monarch at seven? (Or now, for that matter)

It happened all over the globe! Seriously, did any of their subjects think these good ideas?

Henry III assumed the throne of England when he was nine.

Puyi became Emperor of China when he was two years-old.

Ivan VI became the Czar of Russia at two months old

Alfonso VIII was named King of Spain the day he was born.

2 Kings 22-23 tells us of Josiah, who became King of Judah at eight.

According to Dennis the Constitutional Peasant, subjects lived in a dictatorship – “a self-perpetuating autocracy in which the working class…” Before he was repressed, Dennis was reminding us that peasants had no choice in who became their king. Sounds vaguely familiar, but I’m not political, so I will move on.

I know all of these children had advisors, but do you wonder what laws were transcribed inside the inner walls of the castle? Some might have been enacted, most were probably transcribed, agreed upon in the ruler’s presence, then discarded knowing the little king wouldn’t remember after his nap.

Edicts like these come to mind:

“The mere mention of peas, green beans, or brussel sprouts will be cause for eight lashes!”

“If I call for a toy and it is not handed to me in less than 10 seconds, the entire court shall have to walk like frogs for a day!”

“Bed time is when I fall asleep on my throne and not a moment before!”

For most child rulers, there would have been a whole legal treatise for passing gas. In fact, it would have been so overwhelming and encompassing that given the proper historical context, it could have replaced the Magna Carta as the defining law of the modern world.

We have rules in our house. You probably think that since I have all girls, our parental charter hasn’t needed gas addendums. You would be wrong. In fact, the doctor where my youngest is being treated completely shot any control over our gas emission laws with one simple, medical edict, “Gas is good.” In his opinion, it is more advantageous for the body to expel gas than hold it in. In the immortal words of Dr. Shrek, “Better out than in, I always say.”

Huh? So now, any hope we have of spending time in the absence of foul clouds is ruined. Our patient is the queen right now subscribes to the good doctor’s manner of treatment…when it suits her. We peasants bow down, joining in when nature calls under threat of law. All of us except mother, who is medically unhealthy, but socially proper. Even the doctor’s advice can’t woo her to the dark side.

In the absence of a real point to this post, I leave you with two thoughts:

1. Gas is good.

2. “Strange women, lying in ponds distributing swords is no basis for government!”

Enter to win an autographed copy of Krog the Frog Prince, by Janet C. Smith. Giveaway begins March 12, 2014, at 12:01 A.M. PST and ends April 11, 2014, at 11:59 P.M. PST.

Prince William and Kate: A Royal Romance Matt Doeden

Starting with a brief biography of Wills and Kate before they met, and then detailing their courtship, engagement, and wedding, this is one that will be really popular with younger middle grade girls.

There’s nothing here that I didn’t know (and I’m not a huge royal watcher) but there are lots of large photographs and a good story about current events that kids are interested in.

This is one that didn’t wow me, but I wish we had in our library collection, because I know that if I put it on display, it would be snapped up in an instant.

Book Provided by... the publisher, for Cybils consideration

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This Day in World History

November 17, 1558

Elizabeth I becomes England’s Queen

The twenty-five-year-old princess was seated beneath an oak tree on the lawn of her home, Hatfield House. Suddenly, several courtiers hurried across the lawn until they reached her location, stopped, and bowed. The queen has died, they told her. You are now queen of England. Young Elizabeth, it is said, fell to her knees and quoted a line from Psalm 118: “It is the Lord’s doing, and it is marvelous in our eyes.”

Elizabeth I, daughter of King Henry VIII by his second wife, Anne Boleyn, had reached the throne by a more circuitous path than most monarchs. Her father’s first wife, Catherine of Aragon, had born a daughter, Mary, but no son. Frustrated, Henry had broken with the Catholic Church and formed the Church of England so he could divorce Catherine and marry Anne Boleyn. After she bore Elizabeth and a stillborn son, Boleyn was beheaded for adultery—a trumped-up charge—when Elizabeth was but three. Henry then married Jane Seymour, who finally produced a male heir, the prince Edward.

Much of Elizabeth’s childhood and youth were difficult and spent away from court because her father rejected her. When he died and Edward came to the throne, she soon fell under suspicion of complicity in a plot to overthrow him. Her careful response to questions saved her. When Edward died, Mary came to the throne. She tried to restore the Catholic Church, leading to several Protestant rebellions, which led the queen to throw her half-sister into the Tower of London for a few months and eventually send her to Hatfield under house arrest.

Everything changed on that November day, however. Two months later, on January 15—a day chosen in part for its astrological promise—she had her official coronation at Westminster Abbey. Elizabeth I, called Gloriana—and Good Queen Bess—ruled for nearly 45 years and gave her name to an age.

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Prince Andy and the Misfits: Shadow Man 

Gammons, Karen. (2011). Prince Andy and the Misfits: Shadow Man. Mustang, OK: Tate Publishing. ISBN 10-9781616636197. Litland.com recommends 14+, appropriate for younger advanced readers.

Publisher’s description: Andy thought he was just an average sixteen-year-old kid… But one day his world is completely turned upside down as he learns the unbelievable truth of his identity: he is the prince of a faraway kingdom called Filligrim in the Valley of the Misfits a magical place where pixies, elves, wizards, and dragons are just as likely to be inhabitants as humans. He was brought to this world following his birth the only way to keep him from being murdered by his evil malicious grandfather. Sounding more like a fairytale than reality, Andy at first thinks he must be dreaming. But then his aunt Gladdy reveals even more astonishing news: his mother, the Queen of the Misfits, is in trouble; she’s been captured by goblins, and it’s up to Andy to rescue her. Still in shock, he makes a decision that will forever alter life as he’s known it. He will return to Filligrim and, with the help of six heroic Misfits, will embark on a mission to save the kingdom from the clutches of evil. In Prince Andy and the Misfits: Shadow Man, Andy encounters one adventure after another as he works to uncover a traitor, rescue the queen from goblins, retrieve a stone of immense power, and solve the mystery surrounding the Shadow Man the sinister mastermind behind it all. And perhaps most importantly, he must ultimately discover if he has the heart to become a true prince.

 Our thoughts:

 Land of the free, home of the brave. Now nearly forgotten, these words from our national anthem once were as commonly used as any slang today. And thanks to our free market economy, we aren’t compelled to only read shallow tales mass-produced by a few publishing moguls. We now have many independent authors who are quite good. Which brings us to Prince Andy and the Misfits, another “good ol’ fashioned” story of chivalry, honor, and a dash of romance.

 The story’s main character is a popular 16-year old, so this makes the book likeable and of interest to older readers, especially reluctant ones. However, the story line isn’t about high school and so its content is appropriate for all ages.

 This doesn’t mean the action scenes are lame by any means. Early on, Elsfur beheads three knockers with his sword! However, in the style of the best of classic literature, our author goes beyond gore, distinguishing for readers a “just” battle. Authority and hierarchy are realistically portrayed, as is clear leadership. The characters experience life lessons that are easily applicable to our own real lives too. And after all, traditionally that was a purpose to good children’s literature :>)

 As we fol

The Sweetness at the bottom of the pie.

 Bradley, Alan. (2009) The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie. New York, NY: Bantam Books, a division of Random House. ISBN 0385343493. Litland recommends readers age teen and adult.  

Publishers description: It is the summer of 1950–and at the once-grand mansion of Buckshaw, young Flavia de Luce, an aspiring chemist with a passion for poison, is intrigued by a series of inexplicable events: A dead bird is found on the doorstep, a postage stamp bizarrely pinned to its beak. Then, hours later, Flavia finds a man lying in the cucumber patch and watches him as he takes his dying breath.  For Flavia, who is both appalled and delighted, life begins in earnest when murder comes to Buckshaw. “I wish I could say I was afraid, but I wasn’t. Quite the contrary. This was by far the most interesting thing that had ever happened to me in my entire life.”

Our thoughts:

 When is a book a child’s book? When is it adult fiction? And when does it fall into that nebulous in-between category of teen/young adult? In times long past, the age of the character hinted at the story’s audience. But this book, written for adults, has an 11 year old protagonist. Hmm…

 One way to determine the reader’s age is to look at the problems or issues dealt with in the story, and how these are portrayed. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie is exquisitely detailed in its description, whether it be Flavia’s ongoing dialogue narrating the story (and she is certainly quite a talkative character!) or the description of surroundings and experiences. The deep level of detail paints a realistic picture of the murderous death of one antagonist which is a bit much for elementary and middle school readers. We also have Flavia’s reaction to the death, which is an academic curiosity and intriguant rather than a reaction of humane concern. The reader should already have developed a solid concern for humanity in order to distinguish this character flaw, or uniqueness, about the protagonist.  Similarly, other descriptions such as that of the dead bird are intense. 

 Another way determine reader age is, of course, to look at the difficulty level of the composition; its vocabulary and sentence structure. The Sweetness at the Bottom of the Pie certainly has a doozy of a vocabulary. Flavia has a library available to her with centuries-old texts including dictionaries! So you can expect not just a complex but a very colourful, intriguing dialogue.

 And don’t forget the choice of vocabulary for slang! Once it elevates to mild cussing, it elevates to teen level read

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By Helen Berry

 
The purpose of British royalty is for people to look at them.  Successful monarchs throughout history have understood this basic necessity and exploited it.  Elizabeth I failed to marry, and thus denied her subjects the greatest of all opportunities for royal spectacle.  However, she made up for it with a queenly progress around England.  As the house guest of the local gentry and nobility, she cleverly deferred upon her hosts the expense of providing bed, breakfast and lavish entertainment for her vast entourage, in return for getting up close and personal with her royal personage.  It was not enough to be queen: she had to be seen to be queen.  Not many monarchs pursued such an energetic itinerary or bothered to visit the farther-flung corners of their realm again (unless they proved fractious and started a rebellion).  But then, most of Elizabeth’s successors over the next two hundred years were men, who could demonstrate their iconic status and personal authority, if need be, upon the battlefield (which was no mere theory: as every schoolboy or girl ought to know, George II was the last monarch to British lead troops in battle). 

Towards the end of the seventeenth century, improvements in print technology and increasing freedom of the press provided a new way for British people to look at their king or queen.  The rise of a mass media in Britain was made possible by the lapse of the Press Act in 1695 (the last concerted attempt by the government to censor newspapers).  The Constitutional Settlement of 1689 had determined that Divine Right was not the source of the king’s authority, rather, the consent of the people through parliament.  So, during the next century, from the very moment that the monarchy had started to become divested of actual power, royal-watching through the press increasingly became a spectator sport.  Essentially harmless, the diverting obsession with celebrity royals proved the proverbial wisdom inherited from ancient Rome that ‘beer and circuses’ were a great way to keep people happy, and thus avoid the need to engage them with the complex and unpleasant realpolitik of the day.

It was during the long reign of George III (1760-1820) that newspapers truly started to become agents of mass propaganda for the monarchy as figureheads of that elusive concept: British national identity.  The reporting of royal births, marriages and deaths became a staple of journalistic interest.  Royal households had always been subject to the gaze of courtiers, politicians and visiting dignitaries, but via the press, this lack of privacy now became magnified, with public curiosity extending to the details of what royal brides wore on their wedding days.  George III made the somewhat unromantic declaration to his Council in July 1761:  ‘I am come to Resolution to demand in Marriage Princess Charlotte of Mecklenburg Strelitz’.  She was a woman ‘distinguished by every eminent Virtue and amiable Endowment’, a Protestant princess from an aristocratic German house who spoke no English before her wedding, but no matter: she was of royal blood and from ‘an illustrious Line’. 

The first blow-by-blow media account of the making of a royal bride ensued, starting with the employment of 300 men to fit up the king’s yacht in Deptford to fetch Charlotte from across the Channel.  Over the course of the summer in an atmosphere of anticipation at seeing their future Queen, London printsellers began cashing in, with pin-up portraits of the Princess ‘done from a Miniature’ at two shillings a time.  Negotiations towards the contract of marriage were followed closely by the newsreading public during August and were concluded mid-month to general satisfaction.  Finally, after two weeks of wearisome travel, on September 7^th, the Princess arrived at Harwich.  The St. Jam