Author: TravellinPenguin

Hobart is presenting us with another drizzly, cloudy day but the rain on the color bond roof sounded nice during the night. One of the things I have noticed during these days of self isolation is the amount of people I’ve never seen walking past our house. People of all ages with dogs, without dogs, waving at Ollie and I in the yard. Who ARE these people? Evidently neighbours within our community who work during the day and are now at home. The foot traffic is quite remarkable while there is a definite decrease in the car traffic.  These times are presenting all kinds of changes now.

But…. on with the books.

Dd

*1.  The first book I am going to share from my shelf is one I found in a sad little Op shop that I couldn’t leave behind. I have quite a collection of dog books published from the late 1800s to no later than 1955. I collect them not so much for the stories but for the illustrations. Cecil Aldin is my favourite but I have also loved and owned several Albert Payson Terhune (Lad series) whose books I grew up with. Real Tales of Real Dogs comes to mind and I still have my mother’s childhood copy.

The book is Australian and called The Day of the Dingo (1955 published by Thomas Nelson  & Sons who published many children’s books) by John Kiddell.  I can find little information about Mr Kiddell anywhere. I am hoping that some older Australian born readers might shed some light on him for me. He has several books for sale on Abe books and though he seemed to cater for a young readers market the illustrations by Neave Parker drew my attention to this one. I am assuming Neave Parker is British but can’t swear to it. He spent most of his life working at the Natural History Museum in London reconstructing dinosaurs. Most of his art work is in that field as well but he did draw illustrations of other animals for books. He lived from 1910 to 1951.  Again there are art auctions online who represent his work but little biographical information about him. I will simply share the illustrations from this book and you can decide for yourself. I may spend more time doing online research to see if I can find out more about these two people.

Magpies

Willy Wagtail

**2. Next on the list is: Drawn From Memory by Ernest H. Shephard (Penguin books 1957, reprinted 1975). Ernest Howard Shepherd was born in 1879 in London. He was educated at St Paul’s School; and studied art at the Heatherleys and Royal Academy Schools. He had his first picture exhibited at the Royal Academy in 1901, and began drawing for Punch in 1907. During the war he served in the Royal Artillery and after the war he began illustrating books – especially children’s books. Among his more famous illustrations are those for Winnie the Pooh and Wind in the Willows. He was awarded the O.B.E. in 1972.

The book represents his childhood memories during the 1880s. In words and drawings he uncannily recalls a horse-drawn London where a penny was wealth and the fire at Whiteley’s the event of the year. A kindlier, less austere view of Victorian England emerges from these recollections of the Jubilee, of bathing at Eastbourne and hop picking in Kent, of the Drury Lane Pantomime and aunts and illnesses, of hansom cabs and pea soup fogs. It was a world where the spirit of Charles Dickens walked. He died March, 1976 in London. (Penguin)

***3.  After talking about a couple of books of interest to children I am going to walk down a different path here with one of my all time favourite books. I only need to say two words. George Orwell. No, not 1984 as that while his most famous book, is probably the least favourite book of his as I am not a big dystopian fan though I do appreciate the meaning behind it and how relevant his writing remains.

My favourite books of his are his memoir/auto-biographical books. Burmese Days, Homage to Catalonia, The Road to Wigan Pier and this one, my favourite, Down and Out in Paris and London. I’ve read Animal Farm a couple of times and seen the play years ago but it broke my heart and I can’t read it again.

Orwell was born as Eric Arthur Blair in June 1903 in Motihari, India. He died in January 1950 at the too young age of 46 in London of tuberculosis.  He was such a prolific novelist, essayist, journalist and critic.  I can’t help but think of how much more he would have blessed us with had he not died so young.

Today has started off as one of those chilly, cloudy days. Our Japanese maple tree has turned a very bright red and is beautiful.  The leaves have started to fall and drift to the ground much to Ollie’s delight and soon enough will be bare. Then I will be able to see the small memorial bells hanging from its branches designating the lives of our past pets. I often hear their gentle tinkling when outside with Ollie and it makes me think of happy times with our previous generations of animals we loved.

Today I am featuring three quite different books from my shelf beginning with the letter C.  Off we go…

Cc

*1.  The Chosen (1966)  by Chaim Potok (17.2.1929 – 23.7.2002). I read this book and its two sequels The Promise and My Name is Asher Lev back in the 1970s and have never forgotten them. Growing up a Hasidic Jewish boy to man in New York City I loved this trilogy.

Chaim Potok was an American author and rabbi. His first book The Chosen, was listed on The New York Times’ best seller list for 39 weeks and sold more than 3,400,000 copies. Potok received a rigorous religious and secular education at Yeshiva University, a school very similar to the fictional Hirsch Seminary and College in The Chosen. … As an author, he is best known for exploring the interplay between religious Judaism and the broader secular world, a fundamental tension in his own life. (Wikipedia)

The book itself is about two Jewish boys who become friends. Danny comes from the strict Hasidic sect that keeps him bound in centuries of orthodoxy. Reuben is brought up by a father patiently aware of the 20th century. As six million Jews go to their deaths in Europe and the state of Israel first draws breath, their friendship is battered by conflicting loyalties and beliefs. This is a book I will always keep on my shelf as I enjoyed it so much.

**2.  Cane by Jean Toomer (Lived 6.12.1894 to 30.3.1967 – A Penguin Classic Originally published 1923, reprinted 2019).  Jean Toomer’s Cane is a masterpiece in American modernist literature because of its distinctive structure and style, and one of the most significant works identified with the Harlem Renaissance. It is a story told through a series of vignettes. It uses poetry, prose and play like dialogue to create a window into the varied lives of African Americans living in the rural South and urban North during a time when Jim Crow laws pervaded and racism reigned. Flouting the stereotypes associated with African Americans during the period, Toomer’s novel portrayed its characters in an accurate and entirely human way breaking the mould and laying the groundwork for how they are represented in literature. (Penguin)

***3. Now going from New York and Washington DC to Sydney I came across this book somewhere or other. Its title appealed to me as I have had a couple of interesting experiences in taxis when I was working on the National Speech & Hearing Association Council in Melbourne. This book is a compilation of various experiences written by the late Sydney Morning Herald columnist James McClelland. James McClelland was born in Melbourne in 1915 and studied at both Melbourne and Sydney Universities. He survived a brief political career as a minister in the Whitlam government to become the first chief judge of the Land and Environment Court of NSW in 1980 and 1984. He described himself as a ‘child of the Great Depression and a fugitive from religion and Marxism…a former lawyer without illusions about lawyers; a former judge without illusions about the judiciary and a present journalist without illusions about the media.”  He was writing for the Sydney Morning Herald as a columnist at the time of this writing before his death in January 1999.

He described this book as “A collection of my weekly columns in the Herald that contains only a couple of pieces that deal with conversations with cabbies. Nevertheless the title is justified by the contributions that these purveyors of truth, falsehood and scuttlebutt have made over the years to my nodding acquaintance with what is going on in the world.

The title of the book may be regarded as a metaphor for keeping one’s feet on the ground.”

I found this to be an interesting read as I read it in my earlier days of life in Australia.  I have not revisited it and have no idea if it still holds up to this interest.

There we have it. Now to fill in the rest of the day with something interesting during these days of self isolation.  I can hear Mr. Penguin saying “Ollie, NO!” so it may be time to get him out for a walk. Ollie, Not Mr. Penguin.

It’s a rainy day in Hobart and the news reported this morning that we should be prepared to be stopped by either the police or the defence forces if we venture out in our car. We will be asked where we are going and if it isn’t essential,  fines may be imposed or we might spend up to six months in jail.  I wonder where they will put everyone if everyone goes to jail.  Mr. Penguin and I are getting into a pretty steady routine. Books, garden work, Ollie exercise, animal care of two dogs and three indoor cats, writing, studying and a bit of Netflix. I had to take Ollie for a long walk yesterday because a 7 month Jack Russell goes ballistic without exercise.  Our local pub, the Cascade Pub is selling takeaway meals from Wednesday to Sunday and we took advantage of that last night, to have a break in routine and to support them. It is quite interesting how one can establish new routines if only they are open to change. I must say I am enjoying the amount of free time not having to run around and quiet interludes when I want to read. I hope everyone out there stays healthy and keeps an open mind about these things.

So onward and upward, keep calm and all that…..today we talk about B books.

Bb

 1*  Barbed Wire  and Cherry Blossoms (2016) by Anita Heiss (b. 1968 Australian). I acquired this book only recently when a couple of Aussie book bloggers spoke highly of her work.

Dr Anita Heiss is the author of non-fiction, historical fiction, commercial women’s fiction, poetry, social commentary and travel articles. She is a regular guest at Writers festivals and travels internationally performing her work and lecturing on Aboriginal Literature. She is a lifetime ambassador of the Indigenous Literacy Foundation and a proud member of the Waradjuri Nation of Central New South Wales.  (information taken from her web page)

The blurb on the back describes it: “Over 1000 Japanese soldiers break out of the No. 12 Prisoner of War compound on the fringes of Cowra, New South Wales. In the carnage, hundreds are killed, many are recaptured and some take their own lives rather than suffer the humiliation of ongoing defeat. But one soldier, Hiroshi, manages to escape. 

At nearby Erambie Station, an Aboriginal mission, banjo Williams, father of five and proud man of his community discovers Hiroshi distraught and on the run. Unlike most of the townsfolk who dislike and distrust the Japanese, the people of Erambie choose compassion and offer Hiroshi refuge. Mary, Banjo’s daughter, is intrigued by the softly spoken stranger, and charged with his care. “  This is their story.

2** Between Mexico and Poland (2002) by Australian/American author Lily Brett.  I have written about her books in the past as she is one of my favourite authors. I especially enjoy her biographical tales of growing up in Melbourne with parents who survived Auschwitz. She is now a long time New Yorker residing in New York City.

This book refers to her time in Mexico and Poland. The blurb on the back states, ” In Mexico, she tries to write a novel, while the toilet explodes in the house, the gardener hoses her notes and the young maid questions her about plastic surgery. In Poland she retraces the steps of her much loved character from Too Many Men, Ruth Rothwx, and finds herself surprised to hear Ruth’s words coming out of her own mouth. In between she writes for the first time about the devastation of losing her New York home to fire and having to rebuild not only a life but a history. She also offers over insights into her adopted city New York, both before and after the tragic events of September 11. “

There is always quite a bit of humour and some cynicism in her books that I think make her an interesting woman.

3*** Before the Coffee Gets Cold by Toshikazu Kawaguchi (2019). Okay, I admit it freely. I bought this book because I loved the cover illustration. I loved the title and I loved that it is by a Japanese writer which always gives an interesting experience.  I really do like everything about the Japanese culture. In this book it states: “In a small back alley in Tokyo, there is a cafe which has been serving carefully brewed coffee for more than one hundred years. But this coffee shop offers its customers a unique experience: the chance to travel back in time.

We meet four visitors, each of whom is hoping to make use of the cafe’s time travelling offer, in order to make use of the cafe’s time travelling offer, in order to confront the lover who left them, receive a letter from their husband whose memory has begun to fade, see their sister one last time and meet the daughter they never got the chance to know.

But the journey into the past does not come without risks: customers must sit in a particular seat, they cannot leave the cafe, and finally they must return to the present before the coffee gets cold. 

The author explores the age old question of what would you change if you could travel back in time.

Well that is another day completed.  I might add before I get too far into this April project that I tend to buy books that I have a feeling for when I handle them. I know, I know. Sound a bit silly but I have never been one to follow the award winners, the popular, the books everyone is talking about.  I get burned out quickly from books that have too much hype around them, no matter how good they may be.  I like stories, authors, characters that go to fascinating countries, have remarkable experiences, have a different point of view to mine (unless they are right wing fundamentals which I won’t touch or I should say I’ll listen to them but only once and usually dismiss the craziness of most of them. Think American Republican Party or gun control lobbies. But I digress.)

I like to scrounge through the shelves of both new and second hand book stores and look for something maybe really old or very different or something I’ve never heard of. I’ve been known to go to the library, walk down a row of shelves with eyes closed and pull something off the shelf and not look at it until I get home.  I’m sure there are other bookish friends out there who know exactly what I’m talking about.  So until tomorrow.