KidPages: Five Great Winter Books

Today as I chipped and shoved away the snow trapping my car, I looked longingly at the boys' neglected bikes and the long, long driveway and remembered what it was like (was that only a few months ago?!) to send them outside to play with nothing on except a pair of swimming shorts. Ah, sweet, sweet memories.

In the meantime, here are some books to help make this long, dreadful winter more pleasant. (Randomly, I just realized that I can't read winter books in summer because they give me anxiety just remembering that winter will someday return, but I also can't read summer books in winter because they make me bitter and resentful that it's not currently 80 degrees outside.)

Now, onto the books:

1. Snow, Cynthia Rylant, illus. Lauren Stringer
Sometimes when I wake up in the morning and find the world blanketed in white, I wish for a way to perfectly describe the beauty around me. (Because, in spite of how difficult it makes my life, even I can't deny that there are times when it is absolutely breathtaking.) But when I try to write about it, I can't think of what to say that could possibly help me remember what it looks like and what it feels like.

But somehow, Cynthia Rylant found the right words.

Snow is basically description after description of different kinds of snow. There's the "snow that comes softly in the night, like a shy friend afraid to knock" and the snow that falls "in fat, cheerful flakes while you are somewhere you'd rather not be." If you live in a snowy place, then you know exactly what she's talking about. But if you live in a warm place and wish you knew what snow was like, then read this book, and you'll know. My favorite line is: "The snow loves them back. It gives them angels and new friends," and the accompanying picture is of children playing and making snowmen and snow angels.

The illustrations are a perfect complement to the text: they capture the cold nip in the air and the feathery, wet feeling of snowflakes, and the warm comfort of going inside. There's one picture that I especially love where the snow has a pinkish hue cast over it at the end of the day.

This book reminds me that even with all the hassle and frustration and misery that snow brings, it is still, and always will be, magical.

2. Chilly Milly Moo, Fiona Ross
This is a silly one, no question. But for all its silliness, it also has a certain amount of charm and surprise that instantly delighted all of us.

Milly Moo (a cow) dislikes the heat. In fact, she is so bothered by it that she can't seem to produce any milk. The other cows don't understand it. They claim that the sun helps them make milk and think it should be the same for Milly Moo. The farmer, being not too sympathetic to her discomfort, tells her that he can't keep her if she won't make milk. Fortunately for Milly Moo, the night before her last chance, a storm hits and the temperature plunges. Suddenly Milly Moo feels quite comfortable, and when the farmer goes to milk her, she doesn't just produce cold milk but something much, much better.

The surprise ending is probably the best part of this story, but I also appreciated that it addressed some important issues, such as including those who feel left out or are different. And also recognizing that everyone contributes in different ways (Milly Moo couldn't make milk when it was hot, but the other cows couldn't make it when it was cold--all of the cows were important for different reasons).

The illustrations are simple and have a two-dimensional appearance. (The sun is just a big spiral in the sky; the grass is just little staggered lines.) They contribute to the general quirkiness and silliness of the book.

I know I need to be a little more sympathetic to the people in my life who, like Milly Moo, actually prefer the cold and snow of winter to the dry heat of summer. (I'm especially thinking of my brother, Blaine, who feels the same anxiety with the approaching summer that I feel with the approaching winter.)

3. A Perfect Day, Carin Berger
This is another book that paints snow in the best and most magical of lights. (Believe it or not, there are other less enchanting snow books out there, but I tend to need a reminder of why snow is a good thing.)

The reader follows a group of children (Emma and Leo and Otto and Willa and a whole bunch more) through the events and activities of a perfect snow day. There's the joy of making the very first tracks in the untouched white and making a snowman and a snow fort and sledding down a long hill. At the end of the day, they all go home to "warm hugs and dry clothes and steaming hot chocolate." Perfect.

The text is very simple and direct--not more than a line or two per page--but it uses those few words to tell a beautiful story. One of the things I loved is that all of the children had names. Even though we didn't get to know any of the children very intimately, just the fact that they have names made it seem like we were peeking in on an actual village and not just some random place of the author's imagination. Besides just a description of winter, it was a story, too.

The illustrations are totally unique. They are collages made from all sorts of random paper: catalogs, letters, receipts, etc. The hills of snow are really interesting to look at because if you look closely, you can actually read the random text on the paper the hills were created from. Sometimes I have a difficult time understanding or appreciating this more abstract style of art, but this one was very accessible to a non-artist like me.

4. All You Need For a Snowman, Alice Schertle, illus. Barbara Lavallee
Unlike Snow and A Perfect Day, which talked about all of the fun things you can do in the snow, All You Need For a Snowman focuses on just one: the classic snowman.

"One small snowflake fluttering down--that's all you need for a snowman. EXCEPT..." And with that opening line, the book launches into all the time, physical exertion, and accessories needed to make a really perfect snowman. And what if you have leftover snow? Even better. Then you can make a friend, too.

Aaron and Maxwell really liked this one. Even though we have a LOT of snow, they aren't really big enough to play in it by themselves (especially since it's so deep, it's past their waists). When Mike's home to play with them, he usually takes them sledding, so they haven't even built a snowman this year. But this book made them want to build one, and I think they will in the near future.

And while I usually try to make some comment on the illustrations, in this case, I have nothing to say except that they do their job.

5. White Snow, Bright Snow, Alvin Tresselt, illus. Roger Duvoisin
I think what I like best about this book is the overall structure. In the first four pages, you read about a postman, a farmer, a policeman, the policeman's wife, some rabbits, and some children. They are all noticing, in their own way, that it seems like it might snow. Then the snow begins to fall, and you go back to the postman, the farmer, the policeman, etc. and see what they all do with the falling snow. By the end of the book, you know that if you are reading about the postman, you will eventually finish the cycle with the children.

This book won the Caldecott Medal in 1948, and I love everything about the illustrations except that the faces of the people are a little too orange for me. Maybe that's because the color palette used is fairly limited (yellow, gray, white, orangish pink), but I would have preferred a more familiar skin tone. One of the things I really liked is that throughout the book, a lot of gray is used, which kind of makes the cold and snow feel a little more dreary, but then, immediately following the page describing the snow on everything is a two-page spread where everything looks clean and white. I thought this was a really nice contrast to the gray of the previous pages.

But my favorite part of the book? It ends with the coming of spring.

ALA Youth Media Awards: My (Unbiased and Nonjudgmental) Reactions

The ALA Youth Media Awards were announced this morning (aka, Newbery, Caldecott, etc.). The suspense and anticipation may have led me to break my newly made resolution to stay off the computer from 9am-1pm. I discovered that it's actually difficult to find out the results immediately following unless you kept pretty close tabs on the play-by-play.

Of course I have some thoughts on the winners:

Newbery 2013

(I was ridiculously proud to have heard of all four titles even though I had read a whopping zero of them.)

Medal: The One and Only Ivan by Katherine Applegate

I remember when this title began popping up on mock Newbery lists. At first, I had no interest in it. Big gorillas starring as main characters are not that appealing to me. But the more I heard about it, the more I wanted to read it, and you can be sure I'm going to read it now (it's already on hold at the library). Stay tuned for more of my thoughts.

Honor: Splendors and Glooms by Laura Amy Schlitz

I had this book checked out over Christmas, and you can be sure I'm kicking myself now that I didn't make reading it more of a priority. (Why, oh why did I choose to read After Hello before this?!) I'm actually really excited about this one winning an honor because it looks like a totally original plot, and I've heard that Schlitz's writing is gorgeous.

Honor: Bomb: The Race to Build--and Steal--the World's Most Dangerous Weapon by Steve Sheinkin

I only recently started to hear a lot of buzz about this title. It definitely sounds intriguing, and I'm glad that a nonfiction title made the list.

Honor: Three Times Lucky by Sheila Turnage

Another one that I had checked out from the library, but this one I deliberately decided not to read. After reading the summary (spunky Southern girl living in a town full of quirky characters solves a mystery), I decided that it was probably a book I wouldn't enjoy very much if I read it but would perhaps enjoy quite a lot if I listened to it. So I'm still waiting for our library to acquire a copy of the audio. That, and I really didn't think it would win anything. That'll teach me...

Caldecott 2013

(What? FIVE honors? Seems a little excessive, especially since I didn't particularly love any of them.)

Medal: This is Not My Hat by Jon Klassen

It actually pains me a little to write that this was the winner. Yes, we've read it. Yes, I think we even laughed a little. But seriously, I am beyond disappointed that this won the medal. I would so liked to have been a fly on the wall when this book was being discussed by the committee. I'm just wondering what merits they thought it had that pushed it ahead of so many other fantastic books. The illustrations? Sure, they're fine--on the simple, neutral side, but nothing wrong with that. They're just not anything that when friends come over for dinner, I'd pull it out and say, "You have to look at these illustrations!" (yes, I really do that). The illustrations do contribute significantly to the plot, but is it really that great of a plot to begin with? Not in my eyes.

That said, I'm willing to eat my words. I certainly did not have a great love for Mo Willems when first I read, Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus, so we'll give Jon Klassen another chance.

Honor:  Creepy Carrots illus. by Peter Brown

We checked this out around Halloween, and it was definitely one of the stand-out Halloween books (though we didn't review it, I think mainly because everyone was reviewing it). I love the colors that are used (black, white, and gray, with splashes of orange). It's another humorous one, but as with This is Not My Hat, I didn't find it that funny.

Honor: Extra Yarn illus. by Jon Klassen

I'm a little bit bitter about this winning, too (man, can't I be happy about any of these Caldecott choices?). I mean, the guy already won the medal! Did he have to get an honor, too? Let's share the love a little. I actually liked this book quite a bit better than This is Not My Hat, so I would have been fine with keeping it if we could have kept out This is Not My Hat. I think I only read this book once when we had it from the library, but I do remember that my dad read it to the boys while he was visiting, and he thought the ending was strange and confusing. I didn't have that impression, but I'm going to check it out again.

Honor: Green by Laura Vaccaro Seeger

This one was definitely a favorite to win, so I'm not at all surprised to see it on the list. Aaron was a huge fan of this book, but he is a huge fan of the color green, so of course he was destined to like it. It's another one that I need to give a second chance. I've noticed with picture books that sometimes I can tell on the first page if I'm going to like a book or not, but sometimes my love grows with the book, and I have to give it several rereadings before I truly understand, appreciate, and love it. I think that may be the case with this one.

Honor: One Cool Friend illus. by David Small

We just read this book for the first time two nights ago. It was good--funny and cute with a surprise twist at the end. As I was reading it, I actually thought, If I do a post featuring picture books with great manners, this is going to be on the list. The boy has exceptional good taste and employs highly polished speech.

Honor: Sleep Like a Tiger illus. by Pamela Zagarenski

This is the only one we haven't read (actually, haven't even heard of), but I put it on hold this afternoon.

I will say that I think five honors attests to the fact that this was a great year for picture books. (And also, am I the only one who notices the use of subtle and monochromatic colors as being a distinct theme among the winners?)

Theodor Seuss Geisel 2013

(a few, simple thoughts for the books that win for a few, simple words)

Medal: Up, Tall, and High by Ethan Long (It was cute, funny, and clever.)

Honors: Let's Go For a Drive by Mo Willems (we read it approximately 250 times over Christmas break--so good!); Pete the Cat and His Four Groovy Buttons by Eric Litwin (Pete never disappoints us); Rabbit & Robot: the Sleepover by Cece Bell (we haven't read it but will soon).

There were other awards announced, but those are the ones that matter the most to our family. Congratulations to all the winners!

P.S. You have no idea the pleasure it gives me to write my thoughts about the winners. Last year, I didn't have this blog, but I had followed the Newbery/Caldecott buzz and had some strong opinions about the winners, but I had no place to share my thoughts. That was one of the (many) experiences that pushed me to start this blog.

The Enormous Egg by Oliver Butterworth

Somewhere recently, I think probably on What Do We Do All Day? (one of my favorite websites for book recommendations), I saw The Enormous Egg. I had completely forgotten about it, but I knew my family had, at least at one time, owned a copy of it. I could distinctly picture the book's spine tucked in among others on one of our bookshelves. My memory did not fail me. When we were at my parents' house over Christmas, I did a quick glance-over and almost immediately located the yellow spine with the blue lettering.

Despite my near-perfect memory of the book's appearance, I remembered next to nothing about the story. And yet, I had a feeling my boys would like it. I mean, a dinosaur coming out of a chicken's egg? How could I go wrong?

Nate Twitchell lives on a farm in small town Freedom, New Hampshire. His life is pretty ordinary until one day when one of the hens lays the most gigantic (excuse me, I mean, enormous) egg he has ever seen. It takes weeks for it to hatch, and Nate has just about given up on it when out comes a baby Triceratops. Nate and his family are shocked, and Dr. Zeimer, a paleontologist who happens to be visiting Freedom over the summer, is ecstatic. The dinosaur is a fascinating novelty for a few weeks, but once he hits 897 pounds (with no end to his growth in sight), Nate and Dr. Zeimer know they're going to have to think of another solution...and fast.

This is, to date, the fastest we've read a chapter book. And it's because both Aaron and Maxwell could not get enough of it. They asked to read it every day, and we would often read several chapters at a time. Our one rough patch came after Nate and Dr. Zeimer move Uncle Beazley  (that's the dinosaur's name) to Washington D.C. After an unfortunate incident where Uncle Beazley knocks over a truck, the police and then the government find out that the National Museum is keeping a living, breathing dinosaur. This leads to Senator Granderson getting involved and submitting a bill which would outlaw the keeping of any living dinosaur in America. All of the political talk was really confusing (and boring) to the boys. It did give us a chance to talk about how senators are elected and how they put forth the voice of the people and that if they don't do what most of the people want, then they won't get voted for again. But judging from Aaron's brief summary to Mike that Senator Granderson was going to "get thrown into the zoo if he hurt Uncle Beazley," I...don't think he got it.

For my part, I was highly entertained by the fact that there is a dinosaur that is living in Washington D.C., and the government is trying to kill it. And also that no one, save for a few nerdy paleontologists, seem to think this is a big deal. (While the dinosaur is still in Freedom, NH, he gets some attention, but after that, not a whole lot). I just am trying to picture a dinosaur hatching out of an egg in real life and it not being international news and a great source of publicity and pride for the United States. Maybe having three boys who are obsessed with dinosaurs just makes me think a living dinosaur would be kind of amazing. I also was kind of amused that the government was so worried about the cost of keeping this dinosaur and not wanting to waste the tax payer's precious dollars (hello, national debt of $16 trillion!) and also that the government was so casually talked about in such a negative light.

The story is told in first person from Nate's point of view. I didn't give much thought to this until Aaron said, "Nate's telling the story, right?" Then I realized that since most picture books aren't written in first person, this was one of Aaron's first exposures to this style of writing. Maybe that doesn't seem like anything worth mentioning, but I was happy that he noticed the difference.

While this story has a 1950's feel to it, I still think it's very relatable to the 2013 child, especially one that has an obsession with dinosaurs. Many of the dated references are cute and in some ways made me long for those years when a 12-year-old boy was slightly annoyed taking care of an egg because it was cutting in on his fishing time. This is a highly imaginative and very creative read that we all completely enjoyed.

I'm sharing this post at The Children's Bookshelf.

A Thomas Jefferson Education: Teaching a Generation of Leaders For the Twenty-First Century by Oliver DeMille

A good friend of mine told me about A Thomas Jefferson Education almost a year ago. At the time, it interested me because education always interests me, but I didn't rush out to read it. But then, another friend told me about an "Education Principles Group" her sister-in-law had just started. And what was their first reading to be? A Thomas Jefferson Education. I jumped at the chance because I always get more out of somewhat dense and heavy texts if I have someone to discuss it with.

I guess that means I just called A Thomas Jefferson Education "a dense and heavy text," which it kind of is but also kind of is not. It is because it discusses ideas that, in order to really understand, you have to think about, ponder, discuss with others, and then think about some more. I have a feeling I barely scratched the surface with this reading. However, on the other hand, it isn't "dense or heavy" in the sense that it uses a lot of difficult words or complex sentences. It's written in plain, pretty simple, English.

And just what is "A Thomas Jefferson Education"? It's education that is guided by mentors and the classics but which places the responsibility for learning squarely on the shoulders of the student. It is returning to the same kind of education received by our forefathers (hence, the name "A Thomas Jefferson Education"). It is the kind of education that will produce great leaders.

And who is learning the TJEd way? Oliver DeMille says it would be wonderful and ideal if everyone was learning this way (and he claims that it is possible in a public school setting), but really, it's most often implemented through home schools. However, I think you'll notice every time that those who are truly successful and become great and influential leaders were heavily influenced by one or more mentors and the classics (classics not just reserved for literature but meaning the classics that are found in every subject), regardless of what their formal schooling was actually like.

I think it's definitely possible to take any education and turn it into a TJEd. Parents guide and direct the education of their children in all settings, but obviously if they're going to public school, they're away for seven or more hours a day, and so that doesn't leave very much time to learn from mentors and the classics unless they're getting that in school.

I thought DeMille made an interesting point in the book when he said this: "In the history of education, the current American system is very non-traditional, very different from what has been done for generations. Almost everybody in America today is getting the kind of education that has historically been reserved for those who simply had no other options." (pp. 26-27) If you look at the past, those who were well enough off went to a private school or engaged a private tutor. It was only those who couldn't afford better that went to public schools. While I think this is interesting to note, I'm not completely sure I agree with it. I know there are many flaws in our current education model, but I also know that there is much to be gained from studying and learning together not just alone or with an elitist group.

Which is not necessarily what Oliver DeMille is even saying. Later on in the book, he discusses the "Five Pillars of Statesmanship," as he calls them. And two of these ("simulations" and "field experience") both involve working with other people. Also, he frequently states the "Five Environments of Mentoring," which includes group discussion.

(See what I mean? Even trying to write a review of this book is difficult because there are so many competing ideas and avenues of thought.)

DeMille frequently refers to the "conveyor belt" method of education, which seems to be the standard method in most public schools. DeMille explains it this way: the "...standards and grade levels are set at a low enough level that virtually everyone can get through and be a finished product. What happens if you try to get ahead? A factory worker moves you back into place. What if you get behind? A 'special' worker pulls you up to speed." (p. 25) DeMille says we use this type of method because it is moderately successful in training the future workforce of America, but it is not successful in training future leaders.

Let me try to sum up some of my thoughts with a series of questions and answers:

Q: Do I agree with a TJEd?
A: Yes. I believe that mentors and the classics are essential to a good education. I also believe that teachers inspire students to learn on their own. No teachers actually teach.

Q: Do I disagree with a TJEd?
A: Yes. I think in a lot of ways DeMille idealizes the education of the founding fathers. But then, I also realize I have a lot of my own reading and studying to do, so I can't offer a very solid opinion on this yet.

Q: Will I use the TJEd model in my own home?
A: Yes, of course! Mentors and classics are essential. We are already employing them as much as we can with our young children.

Q: So if I homeschool, will I use a TJEd?
A: Yes, to the extent I stated above, but no, I will not structure it as DeMille suggests. He talks about the four phases of learning. The first phase (the Core Phase, encompassing the years 0-8) involves a lot of free play and exploring learning in a very unstructured way. Even the next phase (the Love of Learning Phase, encompassing ages 8-12) is still very much child-guided as they choose what to learn about and what interests them. In this way, this method reminds me a lot of what I've heard about "unschooling." (I've also heard those who are familiar with both adamantly refute that they are not the same, so again, I need to do more research and studying.) This unstructured type of learning is not the way that I learn best, and so I don't think I could guide my children very well using this type of method either. (But I would never say "never" because I have no idea what growth and change might happen over the next ten years that might make me change my mind.)

Q: So will I homeschool?
A: At the current time, no (meaning in the formal sense and not that there will not be any learning going on in our home. Far from it!). But in the future? Possibly. Right now, I'm quite happy and content with the thought of Aaron going to public school. But I'm still exploring my options.

A Thomas Jefferson Education is worth your time no matter what your thoughts on education are. I guarantee you'll find something to like and dislike. And you might even discover some things you want to change in your current approach to education.

KidPages: Three Potential Caldecott Choices

One week from today, the newest Caldecott winner will be announced. (No, I have NOT been counting down the days, but yes, I am looking forward to it.) And so, I thought it would be appropriate today for the boys and me to put in our two cents about who we think the winner will/should/ought to be.

Aaron and Maxwell don't understand the significance of the Caldecott Award, of course. They hardly even notice the shiny stickers attached to past winners. That being said, some of our very favorite books have received the award (The Lion and the Mouse, Kitten's First Full Moon, Joseph Had a Little Overcoat, to name a few), so it's worth paying attention to.

DISCLAIMER: I should preface these three books by saying that we're not basing any of them on any official Caldecott criteria. We just each picked our favorite from the potential candidates.

Maxwell's pick:

Z is for Moose, written by Kelly Bingham, illustrated by Paul O. Zelinsky

Zebra is putting on an alphabet show. Moose can't wait for his turn, so he keeps popping up prematurely. And then, the letter "M" comes and goes without any mention of Moose. It's almost too much to bear. Luckily, Zebra thinks of a way to save his friend's pride.

Maxwell's not so detailed but extremely enthusiastic thoughts: "It's FUNNY! I love it 'cause it's funny. I love it 'cause the zebra says Moose doesn't start with 'Z.'"

Zelinsky's artwork is delightful. Aside from the text, it is completely witty in and of itself. Zelinsky won the Caldecott Medal in 1998 for Rapunzel, so who's to say he couldn't do it again?

Actually, Maxwell mentioning that this book is funny may be the best possible description you could give it. The first time we read it, the boys were practically rolling on the floor.  I couldn't keep a straight face either. In a world of hundreds of dry and boring alphabet books, this one shines through as a keeper. It still goes through the alphabet letter by letter, but interwoven between all the letters is the story of Moose's antics, Zebra's frustrations, and ultimately, their unwavering friendship. A delightful story + the alphabet = what more could you want?

Aaron's pick:

Randy Riley's Really Big Hit, written and illustrated by Chris Van Dusen

When it comes to math and science, Randy Riley is a whiz. But when it comes to baseball, Randy Riley is a flop. He loves to play but just can't seem to hit the ball. One night, Randy is looking through his telescope, and he sees a fireball headed straight for earth! By calculating trajectories and speed and potential mass, Randy devises a plan for how to smack that fireball right out of this world.

Aaron's not so detailed but extremely enthusiastic thoughts: "I like that he made that really big robot and the robot hit the fireball. [Ooops, spoiler!] That's my favorite thing. And it was cool that it had cool pictures. And it was exciting.

If you know anything about my family, it is that we are all in love with Chris Van Dusen's books. Honestly, The Circus Ship might well be our favorite picture book of all time. I'm kind of indignant that he has never won even a Caldecott Honor, so I obviously don't understand what the committee is looking for. His illustrations delight and captivate us like no one else: they are original, funny, full of quirky details, and always seem to be bathed in sunlight.

Randy Riley does nothing to lessen our opinion of Chris Van Dusen. The rhyming text rolls effortlessly off the tongue, the story builds to a hair-raising climax, and the illustrations feature unusual and creative perspectives. And like Aaron said, it involves a robot built by the genius of a small boy, so I dare you to find a small boy who won't like that. (Incidentally, it is extremely entertaining to read Chris Van Dusen's bios because you get the distinct impression that he is living the dreams of his childhood by drawing them out in bright and vibrant color.)

Also, I should mention that this book has a great moral, which is that everyone is blessed with different interests and talents. Sometimes what we are interested in is not what we have a talent for (Example: as a child, I loved figure skating and read books and watched documentaries and competitions, but I had absolutely zero ability when I put on a pair of skates myself). But this story shows that you can use your talents in amazing ways to do amazing things, and those amazing things might just involve the other things you're interested in.

My pick: 

  
Baby Bear Sees Blue, written and illustrated by Ashley Wolff

The book follows Baby Bear and his mother through the sights, sounds, and smells of a single day.

My not so detailed but extremely enthusiastic thoughts: I love this book. When I look at the pictures, I am lost in stillness and beauty. I feel like I'm lying in a meadow on a warm day in late spring (which sounds like HEAVEN right about now). It's a sweet and simple story full of color and everyday magic.

I've already reviewed this book once because, um, I looove it. So if you want to read even more of my thoughts and gushings, go here.

Besides these three, we have loved a whole host of other books that were published in 2012, so I doubt we'll be disappointed with the winners. You can be sure I'll be sharing my thoughts next Monday.

I shared this post at The Children's Bookshelf and the Kid Lit Blog Hop.

Guess What Came in the Mail Today?

 This! Isn't it pretty?

One of my favorite blogs is Avid Reader's Musings. Melissa writes about a wide variety of books; I especially appreciate her thoughts on the classics. She also does a fun feature called Reading By the States where she makes lists of books that have been written in a particular state and also talks about any authors who have lived there. And when she says she's an avid reader, she's not kidding. In 2012, she read 149 books! And most of them were not short (The Count of Monte Cristo, for example).

Earlier this month, she was hosting a giveaway to celebrate her blog's third year anniversary, and I couldn't help entering since she was giving away a Penguin Clothbound edition of Jane Eyre. And guess what? I won!

This was so exciting, not only because I love Jane Eyre (and didn't own a copy of it), but I have also had my eye on the Penguin Clothbound editions for years. So to receive not only one of my favorite books but in the very edition I wanted was about as good as it could get.

I have been wanting to re-read Jane Eyre for some time, and now I won't be able to help myself! Thanks so much, Melissa!

I think I found the perfect spot for it. I've been walking past it all afternoon just to admire it.

Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow by Jessica Day George

One of my friends recommended this book to me a couple of years ago. She said it was her favorite book by Jessica Day George. At the time, I had very little desire to read it. George's other books, Princess of the Midnight Ball or Princess of Glass, sounded much more intriguing. Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow just sounded cold...and bleak...and desolate. All things I dislike very much.

But then January came, bringing with it subzero temperatures and piles of snow. And suddenly, I wanted to read about ice and snow. I wanted some sort of comrade in my misery. (I'm writing this sitting on my bed while a space heater blows hot air in my face.)

In the icy and unforgiving north, the lass is born. She is the last of nine children, and her mother is so sick of having children and bitter that this last one is another daughter that she refuses to name her (which is her maternal duty and responsibility). Early in the story, the lass finds the white reindeer, a magical creature who grants the lass a wish. She first wishes for her eldest brother, Hans Peter, to be happy (he came home from a voyage at sea a changed and troubled man). But when the white reindeer refuses, she asks for a name instead. After the white reindeer departs, she discovers that not only did he give her a name but also the ability to understand and converse with animals. One night, a great white bear (an isbjorn) comes to her family's home and begs the lass to come stay with him in a palace for a year. She agrees. At first she is enraptured by the wealth and elegance and beauty all around her. But before long, there are too many unanswered questions about the enchanted castle, the missing servants, the unseen trolls, and a mysterious nightly visitor.

This story is a retelling of the Nordic legend, "East of the Sun, West of the Moon." A few years ago, I read East by Edith Pattou, which is a retelling of the same legend. I didn't realize Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow was the same story until I was a few chapters in, and it began to sound really familiar. I remember really liking East except for the ending, which was overly long and drawn out. So I tried not to let my expectations get too high as I was listening to this one. I was really enjoying it, but I was worried the ending was going to fall flat again. Happily, I loved the ending. Everything I didn't like about East's ending was absent in this retelling (mainly, the journey back from the troll castle).

I thought the pacing of this story was perfect. There weren't a lot of moments of the lass wandering aimlessly in a frozen wasteland, which is what I was both dreading and expecting. Even on her journey to the troll's castle (which I'm remembering as being incredibly lonely in East), she has contact with three old women, the four winds, and her pet wolf. (I thought her conversations with the wolf would annoy me, but they didn't. I found them highly entertaining, and I think they helped break up some of the potentially monotonous parts of the story.)

I also thought Jessica Day George worked up to the first climax perfectly (the one that happens in the lass's bedchamber, for those who have read it). I was literally holding my breath while I was listening to it, and I couldn't get my hands to move even though I was supposed to be washing the dishes. (And I even knew what was going to happen since I was familiar with the basic story.)

I felt like this story had a depth that wasn't present in East, mainly because there was more back story and more need for saving and redemption than just for the lass's and the isbjorn's sake. I really, really liked Hans Peter's character and the way his story linked the past with the present. 

The audio is narrated by Jessica Roland. I thought she was fine except in her narration of the prince. Oh, he sounded so bad! I think she was trying to make him sound masculine and kind and dashing...and...it just didn't work for me at all.

One of our family's favorite picture book author/illustrators is Jan Brett. She bases many of her books on classic tales of the North. We checked out her Christmas treasury in December, and Aaron and Max fell in love with Trouble With Trolls and Christmas Trolls. As I was listening to Sun and Moon, Ice and Snow, I kept thinking, If Jan Brett were to write a YA novel, this would be it. Maybe it was just the setting or the abundance of trolls or all the snow, but that's what this book reminded me of, and it made me love it even more.

I think I can definitely agree with my friend that this is one book by Jessica Day George that is worth reading (not that my opinion is that impressive since I haven't read anything else by her). And what better time to read it than in January when you're already freezing?