Skip to main content

Book Alert:


Peter and the Starcatchers
by Ridley Pearson and Dave Barry

Absolutely worth your while. While it's hardly a work of transcendently mystical childhood magic, it's a remarkably original - but consistent - take on Barrie's curious classic. I have heard from a book-shopping child-reader that the third in the series, Peter and the Secret of Rundoon, isn't nearly as good as the first two. But the first was pretty darn good, so that leaves 'not as good' to be rather not that bad. Pearson and Barry depict the old familiars (Smee, Hook, the Lost Boys) with creative flair. It does not feel like they are rewriting them as much as shedding new light on their origins. Which was, incidentally, the point.

Though I will admit that the ending felt a bit too tidily wrapped up. Knowing that there are sequels, I couldn't help but feel that some things could have been saved for later - the bit about Peter flying and his youth and the chomping of Mr Grin. None of this will make sense unless you read it, of course. So read it. Better yet, read it aloud. To a child, a teenager, a spouse, or a pet.


If anyone cares to read along with me, I am going slowly through Neuhaus's Death on a Friday Afternoon for Lent. More accessibly, I am also planning to read through Kate DiCamillo's The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane sometime this week. Perhaps I will read it aloud as well. If you would like to hear a chapter, come on over. I'll be at my couch, surrounded by Mike and sugar-free snacks. You for whom this invitation applies, you know who you are. And if you'd like to read The Little Prince first, I will gladly postpone the rabbit for the celestial royalty. Better yet, let's meet at the park. Tomorrow afternoon? Bring me a latte; I'll bring you a fabulous passage from Henri Nouwen to chew on. Meanwhile, it seems an appropriate time to break out my adult-interpretation of the Peter-Molly dynamic. (This is not a mere personalization; the sidekick in Pearson and Barry's novel is named Molly.) Here's a poem I wrote in Edinburgh about a year ago:

Little Peter, when your wondrous tree
was taken over by the wicked Smee
and his taller front, captain of such ferocity,
captain of the saber and the hook,
I waited on the branches above
amidst the debris from the catastrophe
for your flighty form.
It came; you flew to me though it was dark
(your powers of scent were ever acute)
and we plotted both revenge and liberty.
Our tasks complex but your acts so skillful,
I hesitated not to offer up either cheeks or lips
to your sneaky service.
But our adventures were too quick and plenty
to record the kisses of knight and lady
(though unbeknownst to you, I keep
your cap's lost feather
where your hands alone will find).

Comments

  1. At long last, you have made a specific nameless reference to me, and I know it was for me especially! The Little Prince and lattes under a tree that is not an oak but could quite possibly be related to her family. Fabulous. All of that hummus today gave me a thirsty stomach ache. But it was worth it.

    ReplyDelete
  2. I think I'm getting a cold. My nose feels... and my throat feels... Bother.

    ReplyDelete
  3. Hold the PHONE...

    Is that like THE Dave Barry?

    Who used to write the column in the paper?

    ReplyDelete
  4. Yes. THE Dave Barry. Who has several funny books out written in manner of column, but these Peter ones are nothing like them. They have moments of funniness, of course, and I often wondered 'Did Dave Barry write that line? It seems almost out of place in its funniness.' And so it may be.

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Kathryn, do NOT be jealous of me going to the opera. It was weird. They were wearing these bulky animal costumes and clonking boots which might have been okay except that their footsteps drowned out the sound of the orchestra (Oh look! A band!). The plot was supposed to be about the circle of life or something deep, but it really seemed to be more about animals getting it on. It was an opera, though, so plot really shouldn't matter as long as the music is good. It wasn't. I mean, it wasn't BAD - but most of the singing was monotonous, the orchestration was unremarkable, and I hope to heaven no one from the production reads this. It would be so disheartening! They were all skillful - I just wasn't interested in the piece itself. But then, I have only ever seen very classical sorts of pieces. The Marriage of Figaro. Samson and Delilah. And I was listening to Puccini before leaving the house! What do you do? But then again, I was distracted by my seating companion. Five so

window in the sub

Dear Nathaniel, I am microwaving pie that Mom bought up in Oak Glen this week on her way home from the orthodontist. As I put it in the microwave, I was full of sadness that I was not in Oak Glen with her. Why did I not go? I was working. I want to see the trees turn. I want to wander slowly through autumnal gift shops. Under the water, you cannot sense the approach of the seasons. Even here it is difficult because, after all, it's California. But I can still sense it. After three seasons in Illinois and one in Scotland, it must be with me for good. Or at least for a while. Because I am all abuzz with eagerness for fall and winter, for turkeys and dried leaves and Santa. I should start cooking again this fall. Fall foods are my favorite. Baked squash dripping with melted butter and brown sugar, pumpkin soup... this year, if I have enough money, I will put together a holiday dinner for my friends. And we will drink Scandinavian mulled wine, which is the most wonderful thing I have e
Someday, if there is a man trying to woo me and finding it difficult (unlikely, but possible), he need only put this on .