You Probably Think This Word Is About You

Choire Sicha has an interesting point about the use of the word gay to mean lame.

How Others See Us

The New York Times obituary for Eden is a gracious tribute but does that thing I hate: "Eden Ross Lipson . . . was a force in bringing the enchanting but often overlooked world of children’s literature to wide public awareness."

The REASON children's literature is overlooked is because we persist in regarding it as ENCHANTING.

Okay. I'll stop shouting. And, to answer a query on yesterday's note, Eden was terrific at negotiating between the world of the professional children's-book critic and that of the Times children's-book-reviews reader, the educated parent. She knew what I didn't know about what they didn't know.

She has a really good point.

I like Jill Wolfson's dissent about SLJ's upcoming Battle of the Books, for which I am the Decider between Ways to Live Forever and Octavian Nothing II. Jill is right--the BOB provides more publicity for books which have already received plenty, and as a series of apples-and-oranges decisions, it doesn't have a whole lot of critical weight. I think, though, you have to look at it as a game in which the spectators are the most important part, making their own predictions and choices and laughing at the judges. It wouldn't work if the books in contention were worthy but little(r)-known. I'm in fact a little surprised that Ways to Live Forever is in there--it doesn't have nearly the profile of the others.

One scary mutha

I can't remember how to link from within comments but yesterday's post about over-controlling caregivers reminded me of Lucy Lane Clifford's 1882 "The New Mother," which I instruct you to read before bedtime:

"If we were very, very, very naughty, and wouldn't be good, what then?"

Then," said the mother sadly--and while she spoke her eyes filled with tears, and a sob almost choked her-- "then," she said, "I should have to go away and leave you, and to send home a new mother, with glass eyes and a wooden tail."

Dasher, Dancer, Dunder and Jesus

More Christmas sadness--"Rudolph, the Red-Nosed Reindeer" got temporarily yanked for its "religious overtones." (That must be the Mongolian throat-singing version.)

Support your local superstore!

A. Bitterman has some tips!

He does bring up a moral question that vexes me, though. If I want a copy of, say, The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society (which Betsy Hearne says I do), am I morally required to go out of my way to purchase it at an independent bookseller? There are two small independents in my neighborhood, but I can't go into either with the assurance they will have any given book I am seeking--one is mostly remainders (Jamaicaway Books and Gifts) and the other is too random (Rhythm and Muse). I can go to the Harvard Bookstore in Cambridge on my way home from work if I take an extra bus and train, but both Borders and Barnes & Noble are on my subway line. I always drop a hefty wad of cash at the Brookline Booksmith when we go over to Coolidge Corner for a movie, but that trip requires a car (and, thus, driver, thus Richard). As far as I can tell, Boston supports no full-service independents. What's an enthusiastic non-driving reader to do? On the one hand, shopping at an independent is, in the particulars, more fun, and I invariably buy more books than I had intended to. And in general, the existence of independents, with their handselling and appeal to big readers, allows more kinds of good books to flourish. But it has been my experience that immediate gratification wins out over virtue when shopping or reading (this is why I don't shop online). It says something great about reading when you just can't wait to get your mitts on a book--but it also makes it unlikely that you will wait until you can plan a day around its purchase.

I think what I miss most about Chicago is living a five-minute walk from Unabridged Bookstore. That place is heaven.

(Un)block that metaphor!

"We have turned off the spigot, but we have a very robust pipeline"--Houghton Mifflin Harcourt spokesman Josef Blumenfeld, explaining the company's rationale for ordering its editors to stop acquiring manuscripts.

No, Joe, what you have turned off is the water supply, rendering both the pipeline AND spigot irrelevant.

Fun with Intertextuality

I'm not even completely clear on who the Watchman really is, but this is really fun.

But can I just say how much I have always loathed W. C. W.'s poem about the plums in the icebox? We-coulda-made-pie versus some poet's fucking sensitivity--is it even a contest?

Well, it's not like there's an election or financial crisis or anything.

So I'm glad our hardworking Massachusetts legislators are doing their bit to declare Moby-Dick the "state epic novel." How many of them do you think have read it? (I haven't.)

Urban legend alert

If one more person sends me that list of books Sarah Palin tried to ban from the library I'm gonna vote for Nader.

If the substitution is that simple, there's something wrong with the sentence.

Another one from the Guardian, about a little furor surrounding Jacqueline Wilson's latest, My Sister Jodie:

"The word 'twat' was used in context. It was meant to be a nasty word on purpose, because this is a nasty character," said a spokesperson for Random House. "However, Jacqueline doesn't want to offend her readers or her readers' parents, so when the book comes to be reprinted the word will be replaced with twit."

Listen to the Children When They Are Holding Sharp Sticks!

The listservs are ablaze this morning with talk about a children's knitting club being banned from the library. I'm guessing the ban will be lifted by the end of the day; meanwhile, I sure wish I could knit--it would be great to make myself useful while watching the synchronized diving, and, since we're currently reviewing Christmas and other winter holiday books, I'm lusting for a nice black cashmere scarf. (Um, is cashmere knit?)

After the Gold Farm Rush

Due to the enthusiastic spamming of the Chinese gold farm miners, I've enabled comment moderation on this blog, meaning that I have to approve your comment before it appears. But flare and flame away, as I'm only using it to stop spam (and, as before, off-topic personal attacks on others than myself).

Not that a career as a gold farmer isn't an interesting one.