Coincidentally, this article was in today’s New York Times:
In listing Dahl as one of his favorite authors, Jon Cohen is able to separate the artist from the art. I know that’s been an ongoing debate in film as well as literature, particularly during the height of #MeToo. Do we boycott films that star Kevin Spacey? Or stop reading Sherman Alexie? Do we watch re-runs of The Cosby show? Or listen to the music of Richard Wagner? My daughter is an English prof and does not scrub controversial authors, but tries to teach them in context. On that note, a related article:
None of this is directly related to Harry’s Trees–except for Cohen listing Dahl as a favorite–but, as always, one thought leads to another…!
[quote=“Mary13, post:162, topic:2105236”]
“My daughter is an English prof and does not scrub controversial authors, but tries to teach them in context.”
[/quote] - That seems a good way to handle it.
I noticed how some characters have a satisfaction with their life (Cliff - after thinking about it) or have a good understanding of who they are (Hoop). Others, such as Stu and Wolf, want. Want what? Let’s just say want. Cohen sends a message here.
We all do something called magical thinking. We’re at a wedding, say, and it’s been raining. But just as the ceremony starts, the sun comes out. We smile because the marriage is now somehow blessed. Lucky coins, lucky numbers – we constantly imbue the ordinary with special meaning. Name some instances in Harry’s Trees where a character engages in magical thinking, connects dots that are merely coincidences.
There’s lots of magical thinking in Harry’s Trees: the significance that Ronnie gives to feathers, Oriana and Olive’s belief in the power of Grum’s Ledger, Harry being convinced of the dark magic of the lottery ticket, etc.
I consider myself fairly grounded, but I know I’m guilty of flights of magical thinking and / or superstition. They’re not exactly the same, but there’s an overlap. I’d say the former has positive connotations, the latter somewhat negative. I feel like my dad is nearby whenever I see a monarch butterfly because he used to name the ones in our backyard (magical thinking). My daughter recently bought a pocket knife for her boyfriend, and as she was wrapping it up, I said reflexively, “Be sure he gives you a coin in return” (superstition). Little things like that.
I do marvel at serendipity. There are some coincidences in life that seem so perfect that there is something magical about them.
What about all of you? Are you prone to magical thinking or do you tend to be superstitious?
Prone to magical thinking, and definitely superstitious. Rainbows, hummingbirds, cardinals, and starfish, are magical moment messengers, from those who are beyond.
Definitely superstitious- thought a black cat crossed my path last week, convinced myself there was a white paw
Who knows? It’s bad luck to give a knife so the recipient has to “pay” for it. My SIL gave me knives for my wedding present and told me to pay her a penny for them.
In general I say read the books, provide context with a caveat. I don’t really want to give living authors (or movie stars) who are definitely bad guys my money. So I don’t watch Woody Allen any more (easy because I never liked his style of humor that much anyway.)
I’ll admit to occasional magical thinking. I regard seeing double rainbows, the newly risen full moon, falling stars, sunlit rain, as magical moments.
I tend to think of certain things as good or bad signs when making difficult decisions.
Not superstitious about spilling salt, breaking mirrors, walking under ladders, black cats, etc.
We are told to tape a coin when giving a knife to avoid “cutting off the relationship/friendship.” I do it when gifting a knife because it seems a harmless custom, so why not.
I notice co-incidences, especially if they are happy ones. In general, I try not to engage in magical thinking because it does not seem useful or appropriate.
I can see why Ronnie and Oriana both had magical thinking about Dean being a winged creature. It seemed to ease their pain and give them direction, which was positive.
@HImom, I wasn’t familiar with the term “cancel culture” either, but recognized it when I looked it up:
Cancel culture is the act of withdrawing support for public figures or companies after they’ve done or said something objectionable or offensive.
Popularly performed online amongst Generation Z and Millennials, the hidden truth behind cancel culture is that it’s always been around.
Even though the term itself was created not so long ago, public shaming has been found sprinkled throughout world history and entertainment in more cases than one.
Nathaniel Hawthorne, for example, framed one of the most famous novels ever around culture. In “The Scarlet Letter,” Hester Prynn, the main character of the story, was literally paraded around town with a scarlet “A” signed on her breast for having committed adultery.
Had to select a quote that referenced great literature – this IS book club, after all!
The problem with “cancel culture” is that it can go too far – possibly using misinformation to ruin lives, or in the case of the arts, throwing the baby out with the bathwater, i.e., shunning works that have intrinsic value, despite the behavior of the artist (writer, composer, actor).
I can’t believe it’s already December 9th! I think our favorite librarian Olive Perkins would want us to wrap with a warm and fuzzy reading memory:
A number of characters in the novel had childhood encounters with books (Stu’s The Autobiography of Benjamin Franklin, Ronnie’s stolen Treasure Island, Cliff peeking at an art book, Oriana’s fairy tales, etc). Do you have a special book that you treasured as a child? Or a special place that you read? Or a special person who read to you?
My dad read aloud the Oz books to us — the first 14 by L. Frank Baum, followed by about 10 written by Ruth Plumly Thompson. I remember sitting on my parent’s bed, nestled next to my dad, with my siblings stretched out around us, each vying for their inch of space. I pretended I could read, too, as he turned the pages, when really only a simple word or two would jump out at me.
Once I could read on my own, I was enthralled with Bambi — not the Disney version, but the original book, Bambi, A Life in the Woods, by Felix Salten. I read it over and over, and in retrospect, it’s actually quite dark. From Wikipedia:
Steve Chapple of Sports Afield felt that Salten viewed Bambi’s forest as a “pretty scary place” and the novel as a whole had a “lot of dark adult undertones.” Interpreting it as an allegory for Salten’s own life, Chapple felt Salten came across as “a little morbid, a bleeding heart of a European intellectual.” The Wall Street Journal’s James P. Sterba also considered it an “antifascist allegory” and sarcastically notes that “you’ll find it in the children’s section at the library, a perfect place for this 293-page volume, packed as it is with blood-and-guts action, sexual conquest and betrayal” and “a forest full of cutthroats and miscreants. I count at least six murderers (including three child-killers) among Bambi’s associates.”
Whoops! There goes the “warm and fuzzy” wrap-up.
What books or readers or reading nooks played an important part in your childhood?
As a family, we really loved Reading Rainbow when our kids were young, and libraries and bookstores. We were very poor when I was a child, so I loved being able to walk easily 2 blocks from our home to the public library and come home with as many books as I could carry.
I read by genre—all the fairy tales until I realized they were repeating in different collections.
I don’t have memories of my mother reading to me as a child, and certainly never my father. But when I was in high school, my mother did read me the first chapter of Rebecca because she wanted me to read it. I read voraciously as a child (yes, all the colors of Fairy Tale books) and she was busy getting her doctorate, so I do understand.
Our son had a mini book collection of Mother Goose stories, and a large book with the same tales. He liked picking out a story in the big book and making me find it in one of the six mini books.
Once when he was older, we laid out in the hammock where I read him Peter Pan.
My earliest memories of books are associated with pitch black darkness (war imposed mandatory blackout conditions) and my mother’s voice narrating stories as we snuggled with her in bed.
Alice in Wonderland stands out as one of the books from which she would tell us stories.
Also some of Edward Lear’s nonsense rhymes like The Owl and the Pussycat, stories from the Jungle Book anthology by Rudyard Kipling — I think Rikki Tikki Tavi was everyone’s favorite…
There were a few stories from Aesop’s Fables, Sinbad the Sailor and Greek mythology thrown in for good measure.
Oddly, though, I don’t remember any fairytales from this time except for Goldilocks and the Three Bears.
My parents pushed me into reading on my own early because they couldn’t keep up with my insatiable need for more and more stories — I started by reading the Phantom and Mandrake comics before moving on to classic children‘s books.
We were very fortunate to have the illustrated version of Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland in our library which is the first book that I remember reading cover to cover. With a lot of help from my parents!
I remember being excused to go to the library in school when I finished my worksheets. I’d bring home a book at lunchtime (we went home for lunch), finish it, and get another one in the afternoon. They were such exotica as Cherry Ames, Student Nurse and other drivel. Nevertheless, I ate them up like candy.
With a lot of help from my parents!