I love this little essay. Most of the books from our two daughters are still shelved in their rooms. I recently read “The Subtle Knife” again and smiled as I recalled the difficulty one of my daughters had pronouncing “subtle”. We still have the baby books as well, and now read them to our granddaughter when she visits us (she’s just turning 2).
We knew it would happen, and still we were totally unprepared. Then it was fine. Then it was wonderful. I look forward to them reading to me one day (à la Rosemary Wells).
My memories are from the other side of the equation, since I never had children. My mother read to us when we were very young. My gratitude for that parental gift lingers to this day. It's how I learned to read: Pre-school was not free then, so my first formal education was first grade which I entered already knowing how to read. So bless all of you who read, or have read, to your children. You are the best!
I'm beginning to hear some of your earlier work differently. The Next Best Western came up on my Ipod and I heard, I imagine, more of the process of the song and a bit less of the product. I think the essays are shifting my attention to something deeper in the music. Interesting.
I never thought of what it would be like, to experience these departures? They didn’t leave all at once. They each grew and left in their own time and in their own ways. We talk often, visit when we can. In the quiet times when we’re alone or in the beautiful places we sometimes find ourselves, we miss sharing the small wonders with them. There are still books that we smile over and recite from memory … hundreds of nights we were all together.
Books are so important when raising children. We read to our two kids constantly, from Eric Carle through Make Way For Ducklings and the tales of Madeleine ("...ten little girls in two straight lines...") and all the way to the His Dark Materials series. The most fun I had was reading them each of the Harry Potter novels, with different voices for each character. They couldn't wait for the next night's reading, and looked forward to each new book almost breathlessly.
It was wonderful to see how each step forward in book and story complexity stimulated the same in them, and they remain curious, eager to learn, very widely read, and as well rounded as I could wish. From Ana's titles, it seems she walked the same path. Lucky Ana, and lucky you.
We also read the entire Harry Potter series. Prior to that there was a steady stream of children's literature. Her grandmother used to be a children's book librarian. We have quite the collection. And yes, lucky me.
'Watership Down' and 'The Plague Dogs' are two of my favourite books. Living in northern England it is easy to conjure up the time and the place in which both of these wonderful stories unfold. The skill of the writer (of prose, song or whatever) in taking the reader to another time and place is remarkable, all the more so when, in the case of your daughter, that place is on the other side of the world. Your essays on the creation of your new material are delightful, and do exactly the same thing - The canyon, the 'copter and the mopeds could not be further away from my reality as I sit here on a wet, supposedly Summer morning, hearing birdsong, light traffic and the contented snoring of our Staffordshire Bull terrier - Yet the picture you paint puts me firmly on the side of that canyon, surrounded by timeless shared stories and shared memories of Fiver, Bigwig, Hazel and Woundwort.
Thanks for the nice note David. Much appreciated. But here's the thing: from Fiver's point of view, you, me and your Staffordshire terrier are all elil!
A relaxing few minutes here! A nice, gentle read as opposed to the jarring news of the last week or two. I see you'll be coming back to the Lizzie Rose in November. I'll be honored to work that show and oh, boy, look at the date! I'm hoping we'll both be smiling but oh, I am apprehensive.
I'm currently clearing the family home, which means I have to tackle the mountains of books that have accumulated there over the lifetime of our family. Luckily, Mum sorted and sold the majority of Dad's books when he died 30 years ago (wait- Dad died *30* years ago, wowza)but there's still hundreds from the rest of us Some have gone to Mum's care home -enough to fill their library 😲 I've gradually taken, and returned, and taken again, my books over the years,my favourites like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Tove Janssen, Leon Garfield, Arthur Ransom, but there are still hundreds to dispose of. Boxes and boxes of children's books, my childhood encapsulated. Charity shops not interested. My brother's gone minimalist so he won't take any ......but he's also a drummer - perhaps I could persuade him to take them as sound insulation. Now there's a thought 😃
Thank you for this, Richard. I'm a couple weeks behind in cleaning out my inbox after travel, brought home a nasty cold, and have already been in one big scrap with my three year old this morning. This essay while listening to Tactical from last week was just the step back, I needed.
Okay. You caught my attention with the mention of Marguerite Yourcenar being among the authors of your daughter's left-behind books. Not one in a thousand....
As a [fiction] writer, I'm aware of different levels of anachronisms. Facts: Abraham Lincoln would not have had an electric tea kettle. Usage: Someone in the 1600's would not have said, "I have a deadline." Modes of thought: Yourcenar in THE MEMOIRS OF HADRIAN was effing brilliant. I did not see a single sentence which would have been out of place with how Marcus Aurelius viewed the world. I may have missed one but I looked. Modes of thought are the most difficult anachronism to avoid.
And now I'm running out of road and I'll never get back to Rome.
I love this little essay. Most of the books from our two daughters are still shelved in their rooms. I recently read “The Subtle Knife” again and smiled as I recalled the difficulty one of my daughters had pronouncing “subtle”. We still have the baby books as well, and now read them to our granddaughter when she visits us (she’s just turning 2).
"Subtle" is hard! Requires some subtlety. Terrible joke. Sorry.
Lucky you, having an occasion to pull out those books again. Congratulations.
Yep. They grow up.
We knew it would happen, and still we were totally unprepared. Then it was fine. Then it was wonderful. I look forward to them reading to me one day (à la Rosemary Wells).
My memories are from the other side of the equation, since I never had children. My mother read to us when we were very young. My gratitude for that parental gift lingers to this day. It's how I learned to read: Pre-school was not free then, so my first formal education was first grade which I entered already knowing how to read. So bless all of you who read, or have read, to your children. You are the best!
I love the photo. Smiles all through this essay.
I feel the same about my mother reading to us. Such a deep gift.
I'm beginning to hear some of your earlier work differently. The Next Best Western came up on my Ipod and I heard, I imagine, more of the process of the song and a bit less of the product. I think the essays are shifting my attention to something deeper in the music. Interesting.
Interesting observation. I'm going to think about this. Thanks Larry.
Your Cats in the Cradle moment via a bookshelf of memories….
I never thought of what it would be like, to experience these departures? They didn’t leave all at once. They each grew and left in their own time and in their own ways. We talk often, visit when we can. In the quiet times when we’re alone or in the beautiful places we sometimes find ourselves, we miss sharing the small wonders with them. There are still books that we smile over and recite from memory … hundreds of nights we were all together.
Thanks again for your writings, Richard.
What a blessing when they visit!
Books are so important when raising children. We read to our two kids constantly, from Eric Carle through Make Way For Ducklings and the tales of Madeleine ("...ten little girls in two straight lines...") and all the way to the His Dark Materials series. The most fun I had was reading them each of the Harry Potter novels, with different voices for each character. They couldn't wait for the next night's reading, and looked forward to each new book almost breathlessly.
It was wonderful to see how each step forward in book and story complexity stimulated the same in them, and they remain curious, eager to learn, very widely read, and as well rounded as I could wish. From Ana's titles, it seems she walked the same path. Lucky Ana, and lucky you.
We also read the entire Harry Potter series. Prior to that there was a steady stream of children's literature. Her grandmother used to be a children's book librarian. We have quite the collection. And yes, lucky me.
'Watership Down' and 'The Plague Dogs' are two of my favourite books. Living in northern England it is easy to conjure up the time and the place in which both of these wonderful stories unfold. The skill of the writer (of prose, song or whatever) in taking the reader to another time and place is remarkable, all the more so when, in the case of your daughter, that place is on the other side of the world. Your essays on the creation of your new material are delightful, and do exactly the same thing - The canyon, the 'copter and the mopeds could not be further away from my reality as I sit here on a wet, supposedly Summer morning, hearing birdsong, light traffic and the contented snoring of our Staffordshire Bull terrier - Yet the picture you paint puts me firmly on the side of that canyon, surrounded by timeless shared stories and shared memories of Fiver, Bigwig, Hazel and Woundwort.
Thanks for the nice note David. Much appreciated. But here's the thing: from Fiver's point of view, you, me and your Staffordshire terrier are all elil!
Jules Verne and Watership Down are classics!
They eventually come home as grown up friends and confidants. Life sure has its surprises.
A relaxing few minutes here! A nice, gentle read as opposed to the jarring news of the last week or two. I see you'll be coming back to the Lizzie Rose in November. I'll be honored to work that show and oh, boy, look at the date! I'm hoping we'll both be smiling but oh, I am apprehensive.
I'm currently clearing the family home, which means I have to tackle the mountains of books that have accumulated there over the lifetime of our family. Luckily, Mum sorted and sold the majority of Dad's books when he died 30 years ago (wait- Dad died *30* years ago, wowza)but there's still hundreds from the rest of us Some have gone to Mum's care home -enough to fill their library 😲 I've gradually taken, and returned, and taken again, my books over the years,my favourites like Laura Ingalls Wilder, Tove Janssen, Leon Garfield, Arthur Ransom, but there are still hundreds to dispose of. Boxes and boxes of children's books, my childhood encapsulated. Charity shops not interested. My brother's gone minimalist so he won't take any ......but he's also a drummer - perhaps I could persuade him to take them as sound insulation. Now there's a thought 😃
Those are some great books!
Especially Bossypants.
Haven't heard of that actually
Thank you for this, Richard. I'm a couple weeks behind in cleaning out my inbox after travel, brought home a nasty cold, and have already been in one big scrap with my three year old this morning. This essay while listening to Tactical from last week was just the step back, I needed.
Okay. You caught my attention with the mention of Marguerite Yourcenar being among the authors of your daughter's left-behind books. Not one in a thousand....
As a [fiction] writer, I'm aware of different levels of anachronisms. Facts: Abraham Lincoln would not have had an electric tea kettle. Usage: Someone in the 1600's would not have said, "I have a deadline." Modes of thought: Yourcenar in THE MEMOIRS OF HADRIAN was effing brilliant. I did not see a single sentence which would have been out of place with how Marcus Aurelius viewed the world. I may have missed one but I looked. Modes of thought are the most difficult anachronism to avoid.
And now I'm running out of road and I'll never get back to Rome.