Booking Through Thursday: Hero

This week's BTT topic:
Who is your favorite Male lead character? And why?

Well, it would be impossible to choose just one. Of course, I'd have to list Mr. Darcy, Mr. Rochester, Heathcliff, and Rhett Butler right off the bat, wouldn't I? Although, when I read Gone With the Wind back in the Pleistocene Era, I was just as much in love with Ashley Wilkes as Scarlett was. They're dashing and romantic and brooding and handsome and virile and all those things a 13-year-old girl is looking for in a man. Come to think of it, I guess they're all those things a 60-year-old girl is looking for in a man, too.

Problem is, the men in most of the books I've read in my adult years haven't been all that admirable (think of the guys in novels by Doris Lessing, Iris Murdoch, Barbara Pym, or even Philip Roth). So it's a little hard to pick favorites.

As an enthusiastic mystery reader, I've always loved Sherlock Holmes, of course (except for that nasty cocaine habit). And P.D. James's poetry-writing detective Adam Dalgliesh is a great creation – intelligent, strong and reliable, but sensitive, too.

Larry McMurtry's wonderful ex-Texas Rangers Captain Augustus "Gus" McCrae and Captain Woodrow F. Call, who run the Hat Creek Cattle Company and Livery Emporium in Lonesome Dove appeal to my Texas roots. Their personalities are direct contrasts, but they live by the same frontier code. Romantic and brave. Capable and strong. But also gullible and not too bright. I like that in a man.

I guess my earliest literary "heroes" were Tom Sawyer, and then Huck Finn. I loved the books as a kid, and still do. Both boys had trouble with authority, and the hypocrisy and straight-laced morality of their time. They were early anti-heroes for the pre-teen set.

Addendum on Friday:

Just one more thought about this week's BTT topic. And that's it – I promise. But how could I forget Philip Marlowe? Probably my absolute favorite hard-boiled private eye. Raymond Chandler's famous sleuth is the main character and narrator of half a dozen or so novels, and has been portrayed on the screen by the likes of Humphrey Bogart, Dick Powell, Robert Mitchum, Elliott Gould, and James Garner. He has a lot of faults, but he's mostly honest and true-blue, and doesn't usually do violence to anyone who doesn't do violence to him first. Certainly as a male lead character, he's unforgettable – which is why I'm so annoyed that I forgot him.

Marlowe is constantly spouting wonderful quotes you remember long after you've finished the books, like these from Farewell, My Lovely:

The eighty-five cent dinner tasted like a discarded mail bag and was served to me by a waiter who looked as if he would slug me for a quarter, cut my throat for six bits, and bury me at sea in a barrel of concrete for a dollar and a half, plus sales tax.

or:

"I'm afraid I don't like your manner," he said, using the edge of his voice.
"I've had complaints about it," I said, "But nothing seems to do any good."

Ah, Marlowe – what a guy!

Review: Miss Rumphius

Written and illustrated by Barbara Cooney
Published by Puffin Books, 1985, 30+ pp.; ages 4-8
Originally published by Viking Penguin, Inc., 1982 Young Readers Challenge

The Lupine Lady is little and old. But she has not always been that way. I know. She is my great-aunt, and she told me so.

Barbara Cooney's Miss Rumphius, winner of the 1983 American Book Award, is the charming story of little Alice Rumphius who lived in a seaside city, where "From the front stoop she could see the wharves and the bristling masts of tall ships."

Alice's grandfather is an artist and woodcarver who carves figureheads for ships, and paints pictures of ships and faraway places ("When he was very busy, Alice helped him put in the skies."). In the evenings, Alice sits on her grandfather's knee and listens to his stories about the places he's traveled. When she grows up, says Alice, she wants to live the same life her grandfather has lived – to travel to faraway places and then come home to live by the sea. And her grandfather tells her that there is a third thing she must do – she must do something to make the world more beautiful.

Alice grows up. People call her Miss Rumphius. She moves to a city far from the sea and works in a library ("dusting books and keeping them from getting mixed up, and helping people find the ones they wanted"). And just as she had hoped she would, Miss Rumphius eventually leaves her library and travels the world, meeting new people and having adventures. Then she comes back and finds her home by the sea.

And finally, she discovers a way to make the world more beautiful, as her grandfather had said she must, many years before. All one summer she wanders the fields and country lanes around her home, scattering lupine seeds to the wind (because she's always loved lupines the best). And that's how she comes to be called "The Lupine Lady" – although some people just call her "That Crazy Old Lady," which shows that even the best intentions can go unappreciated.

Somehow I managed to miss out on Barbara Cooney's books when I was a child. Though she illustrated more than 200 (she was twice awarded the Caldecott Medal), this book was my first experience of her work. And I've certainly been missing something. Her illustrations are wonderful - the misty watercolor-like pictures are perfect for the book's seaside settings. And the story of Alice Rumphius is a great example of how one person can find a way to make a real difference in the world.

Barbara Cooney died in March, 2000 at the age of 82. Toward the end of her life, she admitted that Miss Rumphius was the book that was closest to her heart. As she worked on the book, she said, Alice Rumphius came to seem like her alter ego. And that seems utterly fitting for an artist whose illustrations brought so much loveliness into the world.

Random Photo Monday: Oceanids

One more photo from last summer's beach week.
This time – water nymphs with cameras.

Hi, ya'll!

Happy Texas Independence Day! Are the bluebonnets out yet?

Happy Saint David's Day

DYDD GŴYL DEWI HAPUS!

Booking Through Thursday: Heroine

This week's BTT topic:
Who is your favorite female lead character? And why? (And yes, of course, you can name more than one . . . I always have trouble narrowing down these things to one name, why should I force you to?)

Looks like I'm a bit late, as usual. And this is a really tough question. I guess my absolute favorite female heroine would have to be Alice from the Lewis Carroll books – she was a very early literary love, and I still re-read those books frequently. I also enjoy Barbara Pym's women; but in her case, it's the type of heroine I'm responding to, rather than any single character. And Miss Marple will always be a favorite, too – I love the way she's always not what she seems.

I'm beginning to appreciate Elizabeth Bennet more now, after seeing the mini-series on PBS - in fact, that show has inspired me to re-read the novel. I like her sense of humor and the way she stands by her family even though they don't always seem to deserve such loyalty. Have to say, when I first read Pride and Prejudice in high school, I thought Lizzie and Darcy both were boring beyond belief. Interesting what a difference a few decades can make! And recently I've discovered a new favorite in Nancy Clark's The Hills At Home – its main character Lily Hill seems a bit like a modern Lizzie who's grown old and never got to marry her Mr. Darcy.

But I suppose my earliest favorite "literary" chick was Lulu Moppet. She's funny, resourceful, courageous, honest, and loyal, has lots of exciting adventures, and her hair is never out of place. Hate to admit that my love of reading was sparked in large part by a comic book character, but it is the truth. And the fact that I have a large Little Lulu collection squirreled away must mean that she still has a place in my heart.

Review: Crewel World

Written by Monica Ferris
Published by Berkley Prime Crime Books, 1999, 243 pp.

If she could get into the rhythm of the needlework, she would find peace. That's why she loved needlepoint – it worked like meditation. It was better than meditation, actually, because after a while you found you had both peace of mind and a work of art. [Chapter 9, p. 116]

In addition to the "formal" reading challenges I have going this year, I've set up a personal challenge for myself to complete the series of Betsy Devonshire mysteries by Monica Ferris.

Now in theory, I believe you should always start out with the first book in a series. But somehow I usually manage to jump right into the middle somewhere. Thus, I started Ferris's "Needlework" series with the fifth title, A Murderous Yarn, and followed that with the fourth book, Unraveled Sleeve. Not very organized, I know – but I loved the series and knew I wanted to read them all. So I figured it was time to knuckle down and read the opener.

Crewel World introduces us to Betsy Devonshire and her younger sister Margot Berglund. In California, Betsy's marriage to a philandering college professor has just broken up; so Margot invites her for an extended visit in Excelsior, Minnesota, where Margot owns and operates a needlework shop, the "Crewel World" of the title. The two sisters haven't seen each other for years when the story begins, and they both enjoy the reunion – in fact, Margot encourages Betsy to make Excelsior her new home and even gives her a job in the shop. The small town is friendly and Betsy is settling in comfortably when disaster strikes – Margot is found murdered, and Betsy is drawn into the search for her killer.

Having already read a couple of the later books, I missed out on a good deal of the mystery in this one – I knew that several of the suspects were innocent and would return as regulars in the later novels. But that certainly didn't spoil the enjoyment. And although I sussed out the culprit pretty early on, watching Betsy develop both her sleuthing and needlework skills was lots of fun (if murder can ever be considered fun).

Of course one of the main attractions of the books, for me anyway, is their emphasis on the "needle arts" – I've always been an admirer if not much of a practitioner. And they're definitely cozy mysteries – set in a small town with a lot of interesting characters and day-to-day detail, and not a lot of gore or mayhem – another reason to keep me reading.

But I think the main thing I like about the books is Betsy herself. Already 55 when the series begins, she's not quite sure where life is leading her:

Betsy remembered reading somewhere that while men are scared of birthdays ending in zero, women are frightened by birthdays ending in five. Certainly Betsy was. Fifty-five is no longer young, even when considered while you were in good spirits. Fifty-five can see old age rushing toward it like a mighty tree axed at the root. All too soon it would be crash: sixty! [Chapter 1, p. 10]

Betsy Devonshire is someone a reader of a certain age can really identify with.

(Each book in this series includes a free needlework pattern. In this first book, the pattern is a magnificent Chinese horse, adapted from a T'ang Dynasty sculpture – a tie-in with the book's plot, and much too ambitious for the inexperienced needle-worker. I believe the patterns in most of the later books have been a bit less intricate. You can learn more about the Betsy Devonshire books and their author by visiting the Monica Ferris web site.)