I have enjoyed many other Diana Wynne Jones books (including one of my all-time favorites, Howl’s Moving Castle) as an adult, but Witch Week was one of the few I found in my library as a kid. As I mentioned in the previous post, I have a thing for school books. Even nasty horrible schools, like the boarding school the poor characters have to attend in Witch Week.

Some of my favorite things about this book: the motley collection of unexpected heroes (each one standing out clear and whole and flawed and sympathetic after just a few sentences), the twists of the plots and final resolution, and most of all, Diana Wynne Jones’ writing. There’s just something about the warmth and droll humor and oddity and unexpectedness of her prose that pulls me in and makes me keep reading.

I’m grouping these together since they feel like a single book to me — the story of shy, gawky Menolly the musical prodigy, who wants more than anything to be a harper but isn’t allowed to pursue her dream because she’s a girl. These books are set against the same background as the other adult Pern books, and there’s also a third “Harper Hall” book focusing on boy apprentice Piemur. But these two are the only ones I re-read over and over.

I were forced to pick, Dragonsinger would be my favorite, because it’s a “school book” and I have a thing for school books. Dragonsong has its share of wonderful moments, though. A good chunk of the book is devoted to Menolly’s experiences living on her own in a cave along the sea, taking care of her brood of firelizards. I actually really enjoyed those scenes- Menolly making her own little set of flutes, finding fish-oil for the patchy skin of the lizards, teaching the lizards to hunt for rockmites. My other favorite part was the ending, when finally (finally!) someone recognizes Menolly’s talent and doesn’t quash her aspirations.

Which leads to the second book, where Menolly begins life as an apprentice at Harper Hall. Again, a large chunk of the book is dedicated to stuff that might sound boring to some: learning the school routines, getting settled in the dorms, dealing with nasty classmates, going to classes, etc. But I loved all those details. Some bits that still stand out to me now are: Menolly’s first interviews with the different masters (especially irascible Composition Master Domick), her selection of a gitar (and the origin of the one she chooses), the Gather-day festivities and dancing, the impromptu threadfall concert, the kindness and support of Robinton and Silvina. I was not a particularly big fan of Piemur (the lovable scamp isn’t an archetype that pushes my buttons) which is probably why the third book was less interesting to me.

One thing that occurs to me when I consider these books (and some of my other childhood favorites) is how several of them depict settings where girls are told they “can’t do that”, and then the girl goes ahead and does it. This holds an appeal to me, and I do wonder how that affected me, growing up. Especially pursuing a career in math and science, where some might expect to find more gender bias based on what we hear in the media. For what it’s worth, though, I don’t have a single memory of anyone ever telling me “girls can’t do math/science”. Maybe I was just lucky (I have had some amazing teachers, professors and employers, and my parents told me I could do anything) or maybe I was clueless. I hope it’s that the tides have turned. But I do know that reading books like this made me angry to think that anyone might say something like that. Angry in a good, empowering way, that would have (I hope) helped me to stand up for myself if I did face that kind of attitude. So I am grateful to them for that.

I wonder though, how common it will be to find books like this in the coming years. Will books depicting worlds where girls stand up to the people who tell them “you can’t do that because you’re a girl” be less relevant? Will we just see more and more books where it’s taken for granted that girls can do everything boys can, and it won’t be about proving they are “as good as” boys, but just about proving they are worthwhile in and of themselves? I don’t have an answer, but I do wonder about it. There’s definitely still plenty of “girls can too do that” media out there being created.

This book was for me, at 13, what I imagine Twilight is for some of its fans nowdays. A story about a beautiful and deadly vampire and the girl who falls in love with him. Except that in The Darkangel, the vampire really does do horrible things, and the girl goes off on a quest to find a way to destroy (or perhaps redeem) him.

This book haunted me. For several years I only could read it once a year, because the only place it existed in my sphere of influence was the library in the small town in Minnesota where my paternal grandparents lived. I searched desperately for it at used bookstores for years until I finally found my own prized copy (which I still have, though it is very tattered now). Fortunately it has recently been reissued!

It is a lush and dreamlike book, almost surreal. The descriptions can still sweep me away to the odd, beautiful, cruel world of Aeriel and her Vampyre. The entire story resonates with the feeling of a fairy-tale, from the spindle that twists emotions into threads Aeriel must weave into gowns for the vampyre’s thirteen ghostly brides, to the tales she tells the vampyre each night to distract him from ill deeds, to the enchanted boat that carries her away on a quest to fulfill prophecy.

I have not re-read this book since college, partly for fear that it won’t live up to my girlish memories of it. I am not sure that it could strike me quite so hard now as it did then, but perhaps I will give in and find out.

I will also add that although I did enjoy the sequel A Gathering of Gargoyles, I tend to ignore the third and final volume The Pearl of the Soul of the World because I find the ending unbearably sad. Not unfitting, but still sad.

I think it’s a remarkable achievement that a book about rabbits can be so stirringly epic and complex, and filled with so many memorable characters. When I try and think of books to compare this to, one of the first that pops into my mind is actually the Lord of the Rings, with its detailed mythology and heroic questing.

Some of my strongest memories of Watership Down include:

~All the rabbit words and mythology.
~The departure of Hazel and Fiver and the rest of their band from their original Warren– especially the moment when Bigwig joins them (Bigwig is another of my all-time favorite fictional characters).
~Cowslip’s warren — not because I enjoyed it, but because it freaked me out
~The discovery of Kehaar the gull, and pretty much any time he appears after that.
~Blackavar and his poor tattered ears.
~The escape from Efrafa.
~The moment when Bigwig refers to his own Chief Rabbit, and the Efrafans do a double-take.
~General Woundwort’s final stand. “Come back you fools! Dogs aren’t dangerous! Come back and fight!”

I do remember wishing, as a kid, that there had been more girl rabbits doing interesting things (and there’s yet another similarity to LotR). It wasn’t enough to diminish my enjoyment of the book though.

I definitely wanted to be Katie Welker when I read this book. She might be an outsider with horn-rimmed glasses who other people think odd, and she might be stuck living with a mom she barely knows, but she can move things with her mind and talk to animals. And she has silver eyes! (I will admit here that the heroine of my own first attempt at a novel had silver eyes).

Aside from all that, I loved this book for the mystery and the action. When a mysterious stranger starts asking too many questions and people start accusing her of things she didn’t do, Katie is forced to go on the run, looking for answers about where her powers come from and whether there are others like her.

I can see in retrospect just why this book appealed to me so much as a kid (especially a shy bespecled kid who felt awkward and odd herself pretty regularly). In Katie’s world, she may be weird, but she’s also special. She’s part of something cool and mysterious, and there are others like her out there, if only she can find them. That meant a lot to me at the time.

I loved all the Mercer Mayer books I read as a kid, but I am spotlighting this one because when I was recently re-reading it to a small child of my acquaintance, it was so much fun to read.

The plotline is relatively straightforward — Professor Wormbog collects “beasties”, one for each letter of the alphabet. He’s gotten A-Y already, so he’s on a quest for the elusive Zipperump-a-zoo.

He has all sorts of adventures: out on the sea (where he encounters a Blowfat glowfish, which has to be one of the most fun things to say out loud), up in the skies, and down in the depths of the Bottomless Pit. Eventually he gives up, goes home, takes a bath, and falls asleep in front of the fire. Then of course all the Zipperump-a-zoos come out and frolic through the house around him.

And even though the book is all about monsters, they’re very appealing and friendly-looking monsters, so they aren’t overly scary to a young reader (at least, not in my experience). You can get a look at some of the fabulous art on the Amazon page, with the “Look Inside” feature. The thing I love most about this book (aside from the fact that it’s all about MONSTERS) is the detail of the images. Take the scene where the Professor is running away from the mountaintop that turned out to be a giant lizard monster. The monster and the professor (holding onto his hat as he runs) are wonderful in and of themselves. But then you’ve got little extras, like the “Pure Ivory” inscribed on the monster’s giant tooth. And the rabbit in a hat sitting calmly off to the side reading a book with some other tiny monsters. And the hairbrush, soap, tooth-brush, tooth-paste and book (helpfully titled “Good Book”) falling out of the professor’s backpack as he runs. And that’s a relatively uncomplicated page. The cavern and beach scenes have loads more to look at. And if you are sharp-eyed, you can find most, if not all, the alphabet-full of monsters scattered throughout the book.

Sadly, it looks like this book is currently out of print. I’m very pleased I still have my copy, but I hope very much they reissue it someday so more people can enjoy it. Hopefully there are plenty of copies in libraries out there!

As much as I love unicorns and dragons and wizards, I have an equal love for the sort of book that make everyday life seem like an adventure. Several other books on my favorites list fall into this category, but today I will talk about All-of-a-Kind Family.

As an upper-middle-class Protestant kid growing up in the New Jersey suburbs in the 80s (without any sisters), I was utterly fascinated by the lives of the five (!) Jewish sisters growing up in the pre-WWI New York City. Some of my favorite scenes were: Charlotte and Gertie’s trip to buy a penny-worth of mixed broken crackers and just the right candy for secret night-time snacking. The visit to Papa’s junk shop to go through a treasure-trove of books. The trip to the beach. The shopping trip for the Sabbath (I really wanted to try some of Henny’s chickpeas!). The Purim celebration. Mama making dusting into a game by hiding buttons in the parlor. Most of all, I loved how vibrant and joyful the lives of the girls were, filled with community and family and celebrations. They are still on my shelf of comfort-reads, because sometimes you just want to read a book that makes you feel like everything is all right, and Mama and Papa will still love you even if you lose a library book or don’t finish your soup.

Other fans of this series might enjoy checking out this pdf, which I found out about via the folks at kidliterate. I had not realized that Sydney Taylor modeled the girls of the books so directly upon herself and her own sisters, right down to the names!

All-of-a-Kind Family is followed by More All-of-a-Kind Family, All-of-a-Kind Family Uptown and All-of-a-Kind Family Downtown . And how did I not know there was a fifth book all these years? I must read Ella of All-of-a-Kind Family at once!

I was going to get to this later in the month, but since some of my livejournal friends and I started discussing it in the comments to the livejournal x-post of yesterdays entry, I decided to bump it up.

Although choronologically Over Sea, Under Stone comes first, The Dark is Rising was my introduction to the adventures of Will Stanton and his friends as they work on the side of Light against the creatures of the Dark, against the backdrop of modern-day England and Wales. It’s also my favorite of the series, though I remain very fond of The Grey King as well.

I have very vivid memories of certain scenes from The Dark is Rising. The rooks, Will’s first meetings with the Walker and the Rider, the caroling party. It will always be a Christmas book in my mind, as I think of Will’s enormous family preparing for and celebrating the holiday, even as he discovers his mysterious heritage as the last of the Old Ones, allied to the Light.

Even now I think I can probably recite the first part of the rhyme from memory:

When the dark comes rising, six shall turn it back,
Three from the circle, three from the track.
Wood, bronze, iron; fire, water, stone,
Five will return, and one go alone.

(Okay, I misremembered “bronze” as “copper”)

I do, however, have a similar disappointment with the ending of the series (in Silver on the Tree) as I voiced yesterday regarding the Prydain books. Thus I tend to stick to re-reading The Dark is Rising and The Grey King and trying to ignore the things that distress me.

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The Book of Three is the first book in the Chronicles of Prydain, which combine Welsh folklore, high adventure, magic and oracular pigs over a five-book series.

My favorite thing about this series is the cast of characters. From Taran the Assistant Pig-Keeper, who so desperately wants to be a hero, to Fflewddur Fflam the bard with his propensity to bend the truth, to harsh Achren the sorceress. And of course Eilonwy; I’ve encountered plenty of spunky redheaded heroines since I first read this book, but Eilonwy was my first, and she will always have a special place in my memories because of it.

My second-favorite thing is the mix of humor and adventure. I love that these books can make me laugh and break my heart. I especially appreciate the voice in which they are told: humble, enthusiastic, good-natured: a real storytelling voice, if that makes sense.

Dallben, master of Caer Dallben, was three hundred and seventy-nine years old. His beard covered so much of his face he seemed always to be peering over a gray cloud. On the little farm, while Taran and Coll saw to the plowing, sowing, weeding, reaping and all the other tasks of husbandry, Dallben undertook the meditating, an occupation so exhausting he could accomplish it only by lying down and closing his eyes.

I would love these books unreservedly if it were not for one thing, which is a spoiler for the final book and thus I will put under a cut below…

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Since I started a day late, here’s a second book. This one will be a shorter post since this book is one of my favorites almost entirely for the art.

The Butterfly’s Ball and the Grasshopper’s Feast is filled with pages and pages of intricate, lushly colored paintings of various critters dressing in their finery to attend a party. Every illustration has dozens of little details to absorb. One of them even has a visual puzzle! But at the same time, there’s something a bit off, a bit weird and maybe slightly creepy about the conjunction of alien insect and whimsical fancy dress. I remember being fascinated by images like Old Blind Mole. It seemed like you ought to be able to feel the velvet of his rich blue coat (edged with lace, of course), and to smell the juicy red strawberries on the bush behind him. But then there were the half-dozen equally-lifelike earthworms squirming out of his pocket, and his long finger and toenails sharp enough to claw their way out of the page. It still makes me shiver, but in that way you love to shiver as a kid.

Here is a gallery of some of the illustrations. The one of the snail and the butterfly at the masque has always been one of my particular favorites.

There is also a sequel called The Peacock Party that I spent many hours staring at. Sadly I no longer have my copy (hopefully it is in my parents’ house somewhere) so I don’t have it in front of me to reference.