Today I talked about children's literature for four hours and took a swing dancing class. That's it, in a nutshell. But let's break it down (bahaha I'm funny). Today I had to wake up at about 8:00, which, for those of you who know me, is a God awful hour to be alive, awake, alert and enthusiastic. But, I put my exhaustion aside, if just for a moment, in order to fall in love with my tutorial. We spent the better part of two hours talking about picture books and why they may or may not work. We focused a lot on this cute little story called Owl Babies that was all about the fear that mother won't come back. It had sequencing, it framed the story, and it even got into child psychology and self actualization. Those are quite big words for such a little book, but it is important, for those of you reading this blog, that what I'm doing isn't just reading books meant for three year olds. I'm reading them with a critical eye and noting whether or not they would work for the intended age group. Basically, my life is awesome. But anyways, back on track: one of the books I took back with me is called The Sea-Thing Child by Russel Hoban and illustrated by Patrick Benson (not married to Olivia). (That was an SVU reference, btw.)
It was a rather philosophical children's book about a sea-thing (or what looks like a puffin) who gets washed up on shore and starts to build an igloo around himself out of rocks with no door and no window. He is too frightened to go out to sea, where he belongs. Here are a few passages I particularly enjoyed:
(The Sea-thing is watching an eel swim down the river to the ocean)
"Where are you going?" said the sea-thing child.
"Far and deep," said the eel. "Far and deep."
The sea-thing child looked at the ocean that was black in the night. "How will you find your way?" he said.
"Finding knows," said the eel, dark in the starshine on the river. "The finding is in me, and the finding finds the way."
"Aren't you afraid?" said the sea-thing child.
"Of what?" said the eel, slipping through the water, tasting in his mouth the sea-brine and the salt night.
"Of the deepness and the darkness and the farness of the sea," said the sea-thing child.
When the eel answered he was out beyond the foam, and his voice was almost lost in the slap and gurgle of the waves. "Born for the sea!" he called, and headed for the deeps.
WHOA. I love the language in this passage, and in this book as a whole, though I'm only going to transcribe one other short section, when the sea-thing child is talking to an albatross who is smoking a pipe, and confesses he hasn't left the beach since he washed up there.
"Don't tell me you've been on the beach all this time," said the albatross.
"Yes, I have," said the sea-thing child.
"How come?" said the albatross.
"Well, the storm you know," said the sea-thing child, "and the wind and the waves in the dark, and the ocean being so big and me so small."
"Small!" said the albatross. "What isn't small compared to the ocean! The blue whale's the biggest thing that swims, and that's small in the ocean. If the ocean wasn't big it wouldn't be the ocean. The whale is whale-size, I'm albatross-size, and you're sea-thing size. What more do you want?" He stood up and brushed the sand off his bottom.
"You're never afraid?" said the sea-thing child. "Not afraid of getting lost in the middle of the ocean? Not afraid of the storms and the dark and the wind howling all around you?"
"There's no such thing as an afraid albatross," said the albatross. "The ocean wouldn't be the ocean without storms, and the ocean is where I live. How can you get lost when you're where you live? I was born on a rock in the middle of the ocean, and Wandering is my name." He knocked the ash from his pipe and turned into the wind. "Clear the runway," he said. "I'm taking off." He started his run, flapped his wings hard, and went up into the air.
The sea-thing child watched the albatross out of sight. Then he went back to one of the big old seaweed-bearded rocks and sat on it all afternoon, looking out to sea until the sky grew dark.
Basically awesome. I won't analyze it for you, because I feel like that might ruin the effect. But AWESOME. Anyways, so we talked about books like that for two hours, and then I was assigned my homework: go to the library and find three children's books that work and three that don't work, and write down my reasoning for each. Then I also have to write a children's book myself, based off of an image from my own childhood. I can't wait to get started.
I also had my first Worlds Beyond Oxford class today, which will be an awesome class (although less exciting today, as we weren't discussing one of the books we will soon be reading). I am excited to get going though, and will update you all with interesting bits of information that I'm sure you're all dying to know.
Then I was able to finally talk with mom and Logan, which, along with watching the Chicago Code, gave me a nice dose of home. (My Aunt Julie's house will be featured in the fourth episode of this show--you should all watch!) After this, I made myself an epic dinner of cereal and a banana (WHOA chef Liza, calm down) and then went to a swing dancing class.
Well then, Liza went to swing dancing. A dance class. On her own, willingly. And is now apparently talking about herself in the third person. I felt like I should try something new, and I did learn how to dance (badly, at least), but I don't think I will be going back. Let me tell you something about older British men--they don't mind grabbin' on to you wherever whenever. One older man (late forties, early fifties) held me close enough so our entire legs were touching and then moved so that we had to do hip thrusts together. FUN TIMES. Oh, I should mention though that we were standing side by side, so I wasn't pelvic thrusting into him, but rather next to him. Still. There were nicer older men, who tried to help me dance as best they could, but really, there was no hope. None at all. Hopefully Jane Austen dancing will be easier (and someone else I know will go--I really went alone, with three other girls I'm not familiar with from the program, one of which is the president of the swing dance club at her school, so... yikes).
So that's it for today. OH wait I almost forgot again--I haven't yet told you about the sink situation. Here are the facts: there are two faucets, one for hot water and one for cold water. Oh, you'd think, that's normal, okay. But here's the rub--the hot water is on one side of the sink, and the cold water is on the other. Which means you either have to wash your face with burning hot water that will take off a layer of skin, or water cold enough to close all your pores and freeze your face off. What a stupid system. And this is true for every single sink in this house. (And sometimes the shower on the right hand side.)
But really that's it. I hope you all are having a great week. Hugs all around.
-L Pro
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