Review: The Magic City - E. Nesbit
Feb. 16th, 2008 07:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
guppiecatI had planned all week to get back to working on my photo project. I'm not sick anymore and everything more pressing is done, so I started.
Half way through, I run out of energy.
While the flash batteries are recharging, I give you this review.
This is not the review you're looking for.
It's an ASCII picture of a bunny instead.
This is not the review for which you are looking.
I'm tempted to edit famous movies and correct all their grammar.
The Magic City by E. Nesbit
Years ago, I stumbled across a book by Edward Eager (Knight's Castle, I believe). This guy wrote books for his children when he ran out of E. Nesbit stories to read to them. So, I discovered E. Nesbit through Edward Eager. When I started reading her, it rapidly became clear that many of my favorite authors were likely influenced by her, so when I found a book that I had not read yet, I was excited.
It's good. It's not as good as her more famous books, and it does not age well. However, there is more creativity in this work than in anything of hers that I have read. Sadly, I'm also older now, and was able to see things in this book that I would not have noticed when I was younger.
The story introduces two children who are forced to live together when their caretakers marry. (Unlike The Ogre Downstairs, I don't find fault with this plot device because the book is set around 1900. Culture was quite different then.) The girl (Lucy) quite likes the boy (Phillip), but he does not return her affection because he's upset that his life has changed. This continues when they both get magically sucked into a world that was created when Phillip built a city out of various things around the house.
This is where it gets difficult to read, due to cultural differences. See, the city is populated by the toys that the boy used to build the city. Additionally, the things in the books that he used for walls sometimes come out. So, there are a LOT of references to toys and educational materials that simply aren't common any longer. However, her writing more than makes up for the cultural divide. I am going to share some with you. If you do not wish the spoilers, go here and read it yourself. It's in the public domain now.
'I was about to tell you,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I will not answer questions. Of course it is magic. Everything in the world is magic, until you understand it.
(Mr. Noah is a character from the Noah's Ark toy set.)
'Because,' he said, 'I'm more likely to meet Lucy. Girls always keep to paths. They never explore.'
Which just shows how little he knew about girls.
(This is after Philip loses Lucy due to a strange series of circumstances.)
'But laws can't be useful and beautiful, can they?'
'They can certainly be useful,' said Mr. Noah, 'and,' he added with modest pride, 'my laws are beautiful. What do you think of this? "Everybody must try to be kind to everybody else. Any one who has been unkind must be sorry and say so."'
(Mr. Noah is also the Chief Judge, so he gets to make the laws.)
'Is it something we shall be afraid of too?' Lucy asked. And Philip at once said, 'Oh, then she really did mean to come, did she? But she wasn't to if she was afraid. Girls weren't expected to be brave.'
'They are, here,' said Mr. Noah, 'the girls are expected to be brave and the boys kind.'
(That fact that I grew up reading stuff like this goes a long way to explain my attitudes towards gender, I suppose.)
The sun was shining--there was a sun, and Mr. Noah had told the children that it came out of the poetry books, together with rain and flowers and the changing seasons--and in spite of the strange, almost-tumble-no-it's-all-right-but-you'd-better-look-out way in which the camel walked, the two travellers were very happy. The dogs bounded along in the best of spirits, and even the camel seemed less a prey than usual to that proud melancholy which you must have noticed in your visits to the Zoo as his most striking quality.
(It's true, camels are quite mournful beasts. I'll try to take photos for you some time.)
'Oh, anybody can steer then,' said Billy; 'you if you like.' So it was Lucy who steered the ark into harbour, under Mr. Noah's directions. Arks are very easy to steer if you only know the way. Of course arks are not like other vessels; they require neither sails nor steam engines, nor oars to make them move. The very arkishness of the ark makes it move just as the steersman wishes. He only has to say 'Port,' 'Starboard,' 'Right ahead,' 'Slow' and so on, and the ark (unlike many people I know) immediately does as it is told.
(I probably picked up my proclivity for parentheticals from E. Nesbit as well. Oh, and who can not bask in the awesomeness that is the word "arkishness"?)
* * * * * *
I'm sorry this chapter is cut up into bits with lines of stars, but stars are difficult to avoid when you have to tell about a lot of different things happening all at once. That is why it is much better always to keep your party together if you can. And I have allowed mine to get separated so that Philip, the parrot and the rest of the company are going through three sets of adventures all at the same time. This is most trying for me, and fully accounts for the stars. Which I hope you'll excuse. However.
(Nothing special to say here. I'm just going to let the beauty of that paragraph stand on its own.)
'The more a present costs you, the more it's worth,' said Mr. Noah. 'This has cost you so much, it's the most splendid present in the world.'
(Look, a moral lesson - just hiding in there waiting to jump out at the unwary reader.)
'Oh, dear,' said Lucy despairingly, 'aren't there any women here? They always have more sense than men.'
'What you say is rude as well as untrue,' said the red leader; 'but to avoid fuss we will lead you and your fierce dog to the huts of the women. And then perhaps you will allow us to go to sleep.'
(More gender-preconception correction. Also, note the presence of "red leader". George Lucas must have read E. Nesbit as well.)
So there you go, excellent writing and a story about creativity, magic and the imagination. How can you go wrong?
Well, you can make reference to numerous things that are no longer commonplace (Noah's Ark set, motor veils, white dominoes, draughts, blotting pads, lead soldiers, wooden dollhouse food, etc). You can also casually accept the fact that, at that time, there was a strict social hierarchy in England and only address this book to young children of the upper class. (This is very slightly addressed in the end, but not by much.) Oh, and you can suggest that it's a good idea for children to lick lead paint off of wooden toys.
However, if you can accept the book as a product of its time, and one that did try to address inequality and prejudice, just not everywhere, it's a very enjoyable read. I burst out laughing several times (especially at the end, which I shan't spoil for you). If you like reading children's stories, it's a delight. If you have children, this would be a good read-aloud book. It's not a good children's read-on-your-own book, because of the cultural differences.
I'd give this book six stars, but E. Nesbit already did.
Half way through, I run out of energy.
While the flash batteries are recharging, I give you this review.
This is not the review you're looking for.
It's an ASCII picture of a bunny instead.
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(from Christopher Johnson's ASCII Art Collection)
This is not the review for which you are looking.
I'm tempted to edit famous movies and correct all their grammar.
The Magic City by E. Nesbit
Years ago, I stumbled across a book by Edward Eager (Knight's Castle, I believe). This guy wrote books for his children when he ran out of E. Nesbit stories to read to them. So, I discovered E. Nesbit through Edward Eager. When I started reading her, it rapidly became clear that many of my favorite authors were likely influenced by her, so when I found a book that I had not read yet, I was excited.
It's good. It's not as good as her more famous books, and it does not age well. However, there is more creativity in this work than in anything of hers that I have read. Sadly, I'm also older now, and was able to see things in this book that I would not have noticed when I was younger.
The story introduces two children who are forced to live together when their caretakers marry. (Unlike The Ogre Downstairs, I don't find fault with this plot device because the book is set around 1900. Culture was quite different then.) The girl (Lucy) quite likes the boy (Phillip), but he does not return her affection because he's upset that his life has changed. This continues when they both get magically sucked into a world that was created when Phillip built a city out of various things around the house.
This is where it gets difficult to read, due to cultural differences. See, the city is populated by the toys that the boy used to build the city. Additionally, the things in the books that he used for walls sometimes come out. So, there are a LOT of references to toys and educational materials that simply aren't common any longer. However, her writing more than makes up for the cultural divide. I am going to share some with you. If you do not wish the spoilers, go here and read it yourself. It's in the public domain now.
'I was about to tell you,' said Mr. Noah, 'and I will not answer questions. Of course it is magic. Everything in the world is magic, until you understand it.
(Mr. Noah is a character from the Noah's Ark toy set.)
'Because,' he said, 'I'm more likely to meet Lucy. Girls always keep to paths. They never explore.'
Which just shows how little he knew about girls.
(This is after Philip loses Lucy due to a strange series of circumstances.)
'But laws can't be useful and beautiful, can they?'
'They can certainly be useful,' said Mr. Noah, 'and,' he added with modest pride, 'my laws are beautiful. What do you think of this? "Everybody must try to be kind to everybody else. Any one who has been unkind must be sorry and say so."'
(Mr. Noah is also the Chief Judge, so he gets to make the laws.)
'Is it something we shall be afraid of too?' Lucy asked. And Philip at once said, 'Oh, then she really did mean to come, did she? But she wasn't to if she was afraid. Girls weren't expected to be brave.'
'They are, here,' said Mr. Noah, 'the girls are expected to be brave and the boys kind.'
(That fact that I grew up reading stuff like this goes a long way to explain my attitudes towards gender, I suppose.)
The sun was shining--there was a sun, and Mr. Noah had told the children that it came out of the poetry books, together with rain and flowers and the changing seasons--and in spite of the strange, almost-tumble-no-it's-all-right-but-you'd-better-look-out way in which the camel walked, the two travellers were very happy. The dogs bounded along in the best of spirits, and even the camel seemed less a prey than usual to that proud melancholy which you must have noticed in your visits to the Zoo as his most striking quality.
(It's true, camels are quite mournful beasts. I'll try to take photos for you some time.)
'Oh, anybody can steer then,' said Billy; 'you if you like.' So it was Lucy who steered the ark into harbour, under Mr. Noah's directions. Arks are very easy to steer if you only know the way. Of course arks are not like other vessels; they require neither sails nor steam engines, nor oars to make them move. The very arkishness of the ark makes it move just as the steersman wishes. He only has to say 'Port,' 'Starboard,' 'Right ahead,' 'Slow' and so on, and the ark (unlike many people I know) immediately does as it is told.
(I probably picked up my proclivity for parentheticals from E. Nesbit as well. Oh, and who can not bask in the awesomeness that is the word "arkishness"?)
* * * * * *
I'm sorry this chapter is cut up into bits with lines of stars, but stars are difficult to avoid when you have to tell about a lot of different things happening all at once. That is why it is much better always to keep your party together if you can. And I have allowed mine to get separated so that Philip, the parrot and the rest of the company are going through three sets of adventures all at the same time. This is most trying for me, and fully accounts for the stars. Which I hope you'll excuse. However.
(Nothing special to say here. I'm just going to let the beauty of that paragraph stand on its own.)
'The more a present costs you, the more it's worth,' said Mr. Noah. 'This has cost you so much, it's the most splendid present in the world.'
(Look, a moral lesson - just hiding in there waiting to jump out at the unwary reader.)
'Oh, dear,' said Lucy despairingly, 'aren't there any women here? They always have more sense than men.'
'What you say is rude as well as untrue,' said the red leader; 'but to avoid fuss we will lead you and your fierce dog to the huts of the women. And then perhaps you will allow us to go to sleep.'
(More gender-preconception correction. Also, note the presence of "red leader". George Lucas must have read E. Nesbit as well.)
So there you go, excellent writing and a story about creativity, magic and the imagination. How can you go wrong?
Well, you can make reference to numerous things that are no longer commonplace (Noah's Ark set, motor veils, white dominoes, draughts, blotting pads, lead soldiers, wooden dollhouse food, etc). You can also casually accept the fact that, at that time, there was a strict social hierarchy in England and only address this book to young children of the upper class. (This is very slightly addressed in the end, but not by much.) Oh, and you can suggest that it's a good idea for children to lick lead paint off of wooden toys.
However, if you can accept the book as a product of its time, and one that did try to address inequality and prejudice, just not everywhere, it's a very enjoyable read. I burst out laughing several times (especially at the end, which I shan't spoil for you). If you like reading children's stories, it's a delight. If you have children, this would be a good read-aloud book. It's not a good children's read-on-your-own book, because of the cultural differences.
I'd give this book six stars, but E. Nesbit already did.
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no subject
Date: 2008-02-17 03:05 am (UTC)When I was a kid, I really enjoyed books that were full of things I had no experience with: treacle, greeting with salaam, rubbers (overshoes, of course) and so forth. Looking at your list above, I realize that I knew most of those things: I had a Noah's Ark set; my father used a blotting pad (and pens, and an inkwell); there were a few lead soldiers still clunking around the house; and I had wooden food in my dollhouses (so detailed, so tiny!).
It's strange to me to think that these things aren't prevalent anymore, but stranger still to realize that they weren't even prevalent when I was growing up - most of my friends only had plastic toys. Fortunately for me, my parents wanted me to have things that were beautiful and timeless.
Ach. Don't mind me. This stream-of-consciousness rambling has been brought to you by the letter E.
(If I were to presume that white dominoes were simply dominoes made of ivory or something else pale in color, would I be way off base?)
no subject
Date: 2008-02-17 04:40 am (UTC)I was not so fortunate a child as you (toy-wise). My father wished nothing to do with his childhood, and my mother was one of seven children... so the hand-me-down toys were somewhat sparse (though I do have a stuffed dog that was hers). I had plastic toys, but my favorite toys were some little cloth mice that my mother and aunt made for me (and my brother). I would conduct adventures (ripped from books I was reading) with them and the various plastic toys that they would encounter during their journeys throughout the basement. (It often took weeks for a party of mice to make it from one side of the basement to the other... there were a great many tribulations.)
I remember that my father made me a few wooden toys, which I totally failed to appreciate. Of course, should I happen to have children, I have every intention of making them toys that they can ignore and then remember fondly in their thirties. ;)
I too, remember wanting to taste things like treacle and Turkish Delight (which isn't *nearly* as delightful as one might be led to believe). The interesting thing though, is that after growing up reading E. Nesbit, P. L. Travers, J. M. Barrie, C. S. Lewis and the like (are all good British authors initialized?), I seem to have internalized certain British spellings. The words just look wrong the way spellcheck wants them to be.
I'm no expert, but I suspect that you are correct and the dominoes were made of ivory. In the story, they turn into a white road with black pips, so unless they're the only thing in the story that change colours, they've got to be whitish. Given the casual magnificence of the toys the upper class children had, ivory would be quite logical.
And I don't mind the stream-of-consciousness. It's always interesting to hear what others think and of the forces that formed them. And your life seems to have been quite unique. I'd be interested in hearing more.