Welcome back, readers, and welcome, new readers.
Celebrations of Father’s Day (in the US at least) had us thinking about our dads. One thing all of them did was read aloud to us so in this post we’ll pass on notes on some of our favorite dad classics.
Don’t miss Norann’s tribute to her father David Mason in the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette.
Trudi – in Yeongwol, South Korea
His voice grew steadily louder to an almost obnoxious level. The tactic worked every time – our voices quieted, and the book narrator’s voice went back to its proper pitch. The story could continue to soft sounds of crayons on paper and the gentle clacking of clumsy knitting needles.
Sometimes too, his voice would get slower and slower like a train coming into station. Then one (if not all) of the nine daughters or his wife, would sound the alarm, “Dad! You’re falling asleep!” A yawn, a sheepish smile, a sip of tea, and the story went on.
In the Brinkmann household, the end of a work day or a long Sunday was a time to be together, relax, and enjoy some good literature. Sometimes dinner dishes were done first, but often later. When Dad got out the family reader, a flurry of activity always ensued: girls rushing around selecting a suitable occupation for the duration of storytime. (Just sitting and listening was possible, not appealing.) Like a train about to leave the station, the book was opened. As Dad began to read, our rustling and whispering subsided and we were soon swept away into other worlds as the pages turned. If Dad’s voice stopped, a chorus of “keep reading!” implored him to go on. . . .
What titles? My mom would know. I’ll post them here later. She usually chose the books but Dad had a condition: not too much conversation. There had to be some descriptions; some good narration. Perhaps that’s why Laura Ingalls Wilder scored high. Longer chapter books were intermingled with biographies or stories from Mom’s personal collection. Revisiting the same stories every Christmas and Easter was like hearing from an old friend.
And then there was Cheaper By the Dozen. That was a fun one. Perhaps that book gave Dad the idea to “teach” us German. For a while at least, lists of German nouns and verbs appeared on our bathroom walls, opposite the toilets, beside the mirrors. German songs and stories proved most educational, though. “Dad, can you read ‘Michel’?” We meant Astrid Lindgren’s big fat volume of Emil’s Pranks (or Michel aus Lonneberga), a German translation of the original Swedish. We were supposed to be learning German but Dad kindly gave rapid-fire translation to English every few sentences. This book derailed the train. It invariably had Dad laughing uncontrollably, in part because “it’s funnier in German” (he said) but also because the cartoony illustrations are exquisitely humorous. A true masterpiece.
When it comes to language, Korean would have helped more than German, but family time with whatever the chosen literary entertainment was, remains as more than just a memory, it’s a precious part of me. I suppose there are other things my dad might have wanted to do in the evening, but he spent countless hours of his life just reading aloud to his family. Thank you, Dad.
Marianne – in Woodcrest, upstate New York
Reading aloud was the leading form of entertainment in my family (we didn’t have a TV and movies were rare), so luckily my dad can read aloud better than anyone I ever met (except my Grandpa). We got through a lot of books over the years, but almost better than a book – for read aloud purposes – is a short story because you get a shared satisfaction from starting and finishing a narrative together.
Below I’ve picked out five stories that are family classics. These are the type of stories you can hear dozens of times with growing enjoyment, and, if you read them as often as our family did, you and your siblings will develop a shared set of references (“The sack is yours, and everything in the sack”) that will irritate your spouse until he, too, learns the lore. (By happy chance, I married the third best reader aloud in the world.)
In addition to being nearly perfect stories, the ones I’ve picked are all public domain; I’ve linked to them below so you can read them to your family.
“Hardy Hardhead” Jack Tales is a collection of stories about Jack, the irrepressible third son who always lands on his feet. Stories about Jack go back to the fifteenth century in England, and the stories traveled with English (and Scottish and Irish) settlers to the US where the tradition of Jack lived on, especially in Appalachia from where folklorist Richard Chase collected them for this book. When people talk about “timeless tales” these are the stories they mean: stories with patterns and resolutions that are so engrained in our experience of the world that they seem familiar at first reading, and don’t get boring (at least not in our household) after a dozen hearings.
“Hardy Hardhead” is one of many terrific stories in this collection; read on to find out what a hackle is.
“The Journey to Hanford” aka “The Watermelon Harvest” is a chapter from William Saroyan’s My Name is Aram, the joyful story of the son of Armenian refugees in California in the 1940s. Summer in our family isn’t complete without at least one reading of this one. “Sometimes salty, sometimes swill, sometimes perfect.”
“And I Dance Mine Own Child” This is about a girl, age ten, and her great grandmother, age one hundred and ten, who love each other very much and who through joint force of character get their way in the end. From Eleanor Farjeon’s 1955 short story collection A Little Bookroom, this story was also where I first heard about people who are engrossed and delighted by very old books. “Oh them starlings, them starlings! I must of dropped off for forty winks, and then how them starlings do nip in!”
“A Call on the President” Save this one for the Fourth of July weekend because it’s about government and civic responsibility in the best possible way, plus a beautiful love story, plus it’s narrated by a couple called Joe and Ethel Turp. This is classic Damon Runyon, but in a mode that’s a little sweeter than Guys and Dolls. “I ses Ethel sugar plum, please do not butt in on this. I will tell the President of the United States all about it.”
“Moonlight, Spiders, Rats and Elephants” Another glorious piece of Americana, this one is from Carl Sandburg’s slightly trippy Rutabega Stories. Bonus: click through to enjoy illustrations by my brother Raymond made for a special edition of this story we made for my parents’ 25th wedding anniversary. “If you can’t find what you’re looking for, look for what you can find.”
I’ve been wondering whether I love these stories because they’re connected to some of the best moments of my childhood, or because they are objectively great stories, and the answer is: extremely both.
Norann – in Danthonia, New South Wales, Australia
My father, David, born and raised in the Shropshire countryside of Britain, was an all-around farmer type. So, naturally, my siblings and I grew up with a strong connection to animals. Dad cared for a small barn on our community, which housed a variety of horses, sheep, chickens, and several generations of cats descended from our original barn cat, Moses. Our lives were inextricably linked to those of the animals we cared for. Their life adventures - births, injuries, disappearances, homecomings and deaths - became part of our own stories.
It was the most natural thing, then, for my father to read us, in his gentle English accent, all of James Herriot’s veterinarian adventures. First the four books (as published in the US) of the All Creatures Great and Small series, when we were children; then, in our teenage years, Every Living Thing (along with the more gory or anatomically specific stories he’d omitted from the other books); and finally the illustrated volumes when the grandchildren arrived (along with their shorter attention spans).
In my earliest years I liked to believe that my father was James Herriot himself – the ever-ready hero, relentless helper, and humorous storyteller – and that I was his intrepid daughter, Rosemary. Later, I realized that the reason my father loved Herriot’s tales so much was because they reflected the rough and ready way in which Dad was raised on a farm set among the rugged, windswept Clee Hills, and because, by reading them aloud, he was giving his children an insight into the world of his youth, built on and around the farm.
Now, as I finish raising my sons on a remote property in rural Australia, and continue the reading aloud of James Herriot’s books to the neighbours’ young children – with the cats and dog by the fire, the spotted pig clattering in for dinner, and the stock horse grazing in the yard – I realize (again) my father’s wisdom in raising us alongside animals. It’s here that some of the best lessons of life are taught and lived and learned.
What we’re enjoying
Marianne
Norann told me that (because of international licensing laws or some such) she hasn’t yet seen the BBC series about James Herriot All Creatures Great and Small which will go into its fourth season this year, so it falls to me to recommend it. The first season was the best but once you’ve seen that you’ll definitely want to watch the rest. One of my favorite details is that housekeeper Mrs. Hall (Anna Madeley), a background character in the books, is promoted to wonderful-person-who-keeps-everyone-else-sane-and-talks-back-to-Siegfried.
Trudi
What I’m reading: A book that has been on my “to read” list ever since it was published: Water at the Roots: Poems and Insights of a Visionary Farmer. I was choosing a book to read on a weekend trip to the east coast of Korea. I imagined sitting and reading to the sound of waves. In the end, I read most of the book in the car on the way home. Ironically, one of the beaches I visited was edged on both sides by barbed wire fences and there were more soldiers than sun-bathers. The sight underlined the relevance of author and poet Philip Britts’ quest for a life of peace. If you can’t read the book now, at least put it on your “to-read” list!
What I’m Listening to: Yeongwol community’s middle school students are reading through CS Lewis’s Narnia series. One rainy Saturday evening they invited all interested (or bored) community members to watch Voyage of the Dawn Treader —with Korean subtitles of course. Having never read the series as a child I’m catching up now and enjoyed the audiobook of The Silver Chair as I worked today. Like all Narnia tales, it’s delightfully imaginative, humorous, and touching.
Norann
What I’m Listening to: While awaiting musician Joel Clarkson’s first new solo piano album in five years, (Midsummer will release in July), I’ve come to love his Hymns for the Lifegiving Home….
….and Prayers for the Time of Trial - a luminous collection of duets sung with his sister, Joy Clarkson.
What I’m reading: My mother-in-law, Nancy (aka “Mom” or “Gram”), absolutely loves all things Shakespeare and mildly detests all things feline. The first part of this isn’t a problem in our household – Chris and I both love the Bard. But the second, well…..Mom has to put up with a lot of cat activity both from our two moggies “Julian” and “Ashokan”, plus the neighbours’ “Tigger”(aptly named) and patchwork coated and cozy “Panga”.
A dear friend of Mom’s, who is well aware of the duality she contends with, sent her a birthday gift which perfectly marries the two. Susan Herbert’s “Shakespeare Cats” is winsome wonderland of paws and claws in sumptuous costumes and theatrical stances: meet Ophelia before….
…and after her untimely demise, when the gravedigger’s discover an appropriately-shaped skull of dear Yorick.
This books is an absolute must-read for those who love cats and loathe Shakespeare, or vice versa, as well as for those of us who (are learning to) love both.
What I’m cooking: The cooler Australian weather (it’s midwinter here) means slowcooking (everything) out-of-doors (when we can). Our sons keep the freezer stocked with rabbit, hare, venison, and wild pig, but this recipe will work with any piece of meat, and is also perfect for a summer afternoon picnic. If you’re not a meat-eater, several cups of cooked chickpeas, black beans, or your favourite legumes will be a divine substitute.:
Many thanks to all three of you for this wonderful post. I was moved by your stories about your fathers, and the way reading aloud was clearly a way that love was made tangible for you during your growing-up time. Also, I appreciate the way you went to the trouble to identify, and link to, the stories you heard, so that your readers can access these stories and then share them with their children. It is like the love your fathers gave to you can now flow out into the larger world and touch others. A blessing.
We had a family tradition on Christmas Eve. When we four children were very young, my mom would read to us before bed (Grimms’ Fairy Tales, Bedknobs and Broomsticks, for examples). But on Christmas Eve, my dad would read us two, large/sized story-books: “‘Twas the Night Before Christmas” and a nativity story entitled “When Joy Came.” We all have lovely pictures across time, as my mom would take photos every year. These are precious memories to all four of us!