Boys Books

Although this early reader has been around for quite a while, it is still one of the very best out there for a beginning reader. As a book buyer for a children's book company and parent, I have found very few that are so appropriate for and loved by children and parents alike!

I give this book as a gift to all friends who have a new baby. I loved reading it to my son... it is the story of a new puppy and a boy from the puppy's perspective.

A great book for a beginning reader!

I read this book by myself about 15 years ago when I was 5. I'm not quite sure how it stacks up against the rest of early child hood literature, but it will always have a special place in my mind as the first book that I was able to read by myself.

I give this book as a gift to all friends who have a new baby. I loved reading it to my son... it is the story of a new puppy and a boy from the puppy's perspective.

A great book for a beginning reader!

Many books easy enough for my kindergartener are not interesting. There is no story line. They focus on the words being simple only. This has easy words, yet a great storyline of life from a dog's view point and it is cute and funny. We read it over and over.There needs to be more of these kinds. Real stories inspire reading.

Ryan Robert Mullen reminds me of a Beat Gen. writer, exploring not only the world around him, but the world within him. Just when I thought all the Jack Kerouaks and Richard Brautigans were gone. It's very comforting know that his line of thinking still exists, and I would definitely recommend his work to anyone but my parents.

Naughty Sweet Boy's short-short stories, vignettes, and character studies are so fresh and evocative that I found myself wanting more at the end of each one, but feeling lucky for what I had. Robert Ryan Mullen has a unique talent for coming up with interesting characters, the kind who could populate an entire novel and still keep you guessing. What's here are some beginnings and some complete stories, all tightly packed so there is no dead space. I want to see more from him.

The stories are easy to read and enjoy, unpretentious and rich in dialogue and spirit. The character's problems and motivations are naughty and sweet at once. A sampling of the prose that sold me: "He liked women with teeth in their brains." "Cool oaken times when the rocking chair grinds harshly against the porch" "the tree cracked windshield sky" "Women mostly come in two types: they wanna pony, or don't." There are also nuggets of humor: "Boys liked her...their eyes lit up and they got brave and by brave I mean horny (they always were anyway, but we already knew that)"

I'd hard RRM's name a few times and enjoyed an interview that I read on-line with him, so I got the book...and I was more impressed than I'd expected. So order it (hey, the slim volume is only six bux) so that he can write more!

Mr. Mullen shows the promise and talent at a young age similiar to many writers from the Golden Age of American Literature whose names have since become buzzwords in English Departments. I became interested in young writers and the work of well-known writers when young as research for my thesis at the U of Chicago. Before reading "Naughty Sweet Boy" I was working through "Slow Learner" by Pynchon which are stories written while he was 21-27. I gather by Robert's bio that he is either 22 or 23. If the comparision of Pynchon's and Mullen's work is any indicator of raw talent- let it be said that Mullen may have a durable and high place within American lit. in the near future.

Ryan Robert Mullen's book is a revelation. It's tiny droplets of perfection that explore the minutiae of daily life in a way not often seen in contemporary fiction. The stories themselves might be tiny but their words and weight are enormous. You can't carry them. Don't even try. Just read them. Now. You won't regret it.

Naughty Sweet Boy is a great collection of mostly sudden fictions, in perfect bound chapbook form (56 pp).

My fave story is "A Little Shinier" which is about what happens when you turn away, then whip your head back a bit too quickly. The stories are mostly like a declassed American Dream, and I mean that in the most literal and Nyquil-addled way possible. Mullen's stuff is all short bursts of rage, conversations, clean carpets designed to look dirty in contemporary lobbies, and the occasional nine-foot long electric eel and how you mother feels about watching you watch a man get zapped by one.

In fact I'm so into the sudden fictions that when I run into a story that's even just three pages long, like "Squirrels Differently" I'm a bit disappointed. But most of the stories aren't nearly so long.

So what I am saying is that you should spend six mere dollars on it, put it in your jeans pocket and when you're in an elevator whip it out and read a story in forty-two seconds exactly. By the time the elevator doors finally open you'll be ready to take on the world.

Fun to read again and again. An uplifting story with beautiful illustrations...and who can resist a dragon tale?

We picked this up at the library, and it quickly became a favorite of both of our daughters (2-years and 4-years), and ours as well. So much so that we're making sure we buy it so it arrives before we have to return the library's copy.

The story is told in a very unpretentious style. Many of the recent children's books we see are so heavy with weight or wit that they are better for reading by yourself than to others. The simple sentences and matter-of-fact narrative in "Neem, The Half Boy" make it a pleasure to read aloud. It reminds me, in its honest simplicity of style, of Maurice Sendak's "Little Bear" stories and the writings of Arnold Lobel, and that's high praise for me.

Despite its simplicity however, there are powerful lessons here. The queen who starts eating a magic apple, only to lose focus and run off to do something else offers a familiar example for any child. "Do you know anyone who stops playing with a toy, and runs off to do something else, leaving the toy on the ground?" "Me." "Yup." The fact that it is also the cause of Neem's special condition makes the lesson memorable. Later, the Hich Hich fairies deliver a message from Arif the Wise Man to Neem incorrectly, with potentially dangerous results (Arif never says Neem has to drive the dragon away; the fairies add that themselves), and we were able to talk about the importance of saying what you mean and communicating what you hear accurately. Finally, the wisdom of the dragon in defusing Neem's aggressive approach with the simple question, "Why?", an honest explanation of his own situation and a willingness to share made the denouement of this book truly special and empowering. And, they all live happily ever after.

Bravo to Mr. Shah.

This is a charming folk tale of a boy who is only half a boy and needs to discover what it takes to become a complete person. Full of interesting suggested or symbolic meanings and at the same time a terrific story in itself for children who might appreciate fairy tale-type stories.

[....] It's clear that we need to provide our kids - especially boys - with tools to counter the violence and knee-jerk aggression ubiquitous in popular culture. These children's stories by Idries Shah are just this kind of tool. They're not preachy. They don't offer simplistic lessons or moral platitudes. They're more like exercises for "mental muscle groups" grossly underdeveloped in this culture: A strong sense of one's own value. Empathy. Flexibility in thinking and responding. Appreciating that not everyone is the same, not every outcome is predictable. Seeing that there are more than two sides to a situation. A sense that patience and perseverance can pay off, sometimes in unexpected ways. Not demanding easy answers. A sense that things are not always as they seem, that the viewpoint of "experts" - or even the whole community - is not always right. The experience of seeing something that even adults don't see, of creating clever solutions. The sense that taking positive action is possible and rewarding-even when one has to buck the tide. That help can come from where and when we least expect it. The sense that life has interesting "loose ends" for us to reflect on. And so much more. At least one of these books should be on every child's book shelf.

Last month I saw an amazing documentary ("Boys Will Be Men") about an intervention program for at-risk boys. The kids were told a adult version of this same story about a half-boy who is ostracized and searches for his other half. They were asked to interpret the story in the context of their own lives using poetry. The kids came together to perform the poems, astounding their parents. Clearly, the notion of being incomplete, of having to overcome great difficulties to find oneself, is very meaningful for kids today. And this wonderful book is a great way to bring the experience to even very young children. As a psychologist and a parent, I highly recommend it.

(SPOILER ALERT)

14-y.o. Dylan is on a trip of a life time. Not only is he going on an exciting hike and campout at the paradisial Halape Beach on the Big Island in Hawaii, he's the senior patrol leader. But Dylan also has on his hands a problem of seismic proportions: Louie Domingo, an older, taller troubled teen, all muscle and menace. Previously, the two had a happenstance run-in that was the fault of neither, but Louie had vowed he would get Dylan back. Soon enough, trouble stirs and stews. It seems only a matter of time that Louie's threats would explode into violence. Little did either boys realize that a far greater peril would come from above - and beyond. Their world is shattered when a 7.2 earthquake rocked their campground, shaking loose boulders that rained death upon them, causing a tidal wave that wiped out their idyllic beach. Struggling through crippling injuries and paralyzing fear, every troop member has to dig deep to survive the catastrophe; Dylan and Louie must band together in order to save the troop, and save themselves.

This is a great book for boys who complain they don't have anything good to read - it's GOOD alright. It has a killer cover that sets the tone. A growing sense of foreboding sets in early and carries the reader away like a tsunami. Besides the brewing danger that Louie presents, we also have the mysterious howling dogs that seemed to be following them (cleverly set off by Louie's growling dogs introduced earlier - dogs that he controlled with a single word); there's also a shark of mythical pedigree, and spine-tingling tales of intrigue told around a campfire. What makes the book even more compelling is the epilogue. It explains how the story, while fictitious, is based on true events in 1975 that Salisbury's own cousin went through, and lived to talk about. Parents, librarians, and teachers will embrace the positive values the book espouses. Finally, Salisbury's staccato writing style echoes the taciturn temperament of Louie, and will resonate with laconic boys. You don't have to be a boy scout to be captivated by this book. Highly recommended.

Graham Salisbury's NIGHT OF THE HOWLING DOGS recreates in fiction the true story of a volcano's eruption on the Big Island of Hawaii. Dylan's Scout troop camps below the volcano in a beautiful setting - a nice expedition until disaster strikes and brings with it changes demanding Dylan assume an unusual leadership role.

Graham Salisbury has done it again with Night of the Howling Dogs. He's taken an actual event (the 1975 7.2 earthquake, epicenter Halape) and created a fiction story based on the horror that a Boy Scout Troop experienced during the quake and subsequent tsunami.

Salisbury's knowledge of Hawaii and his "nature-based" writing style are perfect for telling the story of Dylan (scout leader) and Louie (a hardened street kid with a rough past)and how they survive the aftermath of Pele's anger; saving their fellow scouts, leaders and a group of paniolos (Hawaiian cowboys) who were also camping there.

Having been to this region of the Big Island, I can say that the descriptions are not only accurate, but they put you there, in the moment, as are the characters. An excellent read!

Casey is the Senior Patrol leader of his Boy Scout troop, and they are about to hike and stay in a remote area in their native land of Hawaii. This place had been almost completely wiped out from a long-ago volcanic eruption, but there is a small oasis of quiet beauty in the area that remained. That's where the boys will be camping.

Casey is not excited when a tough boy named Louie shows up. He's not a Scout, but his Scoutmaster invited him along to see if he would be interested in joining. He makes Casey uncomfortable, but there's nothing he can do about it. And Casey only thinks that having Louie on his case constantly is the biggest thing he has to worry about on that trip.

Until it hits. "It" is an actual event that happened in this same area in 1975. An earthquake, which causes part of the land to collapse into the ocean, and that also causes a tsunami that covers the sunken land with water beyond belief. Palm trees, under which some of his troop had been sleeping, stand in the middle of the ocean. He doesn't know where anyone is, if they are okay, or if he will survive himself.

Graham Salisbury's cousin was a Scout who happened to be on just such a trip with his troop when the historical tsunami hit. He took the author to the land many years later. The detailed descriptions of the events and setting could only be told by an excellent storyteller and someone who truly experienced this unbelievable event. This is a great adventure of survival and a coming-of-age story.

Reviewed by: Dianna Geers

Night of the Howling Dogs: A Page-turning Thriller

In his newest novel, Night of the Howling Dogs, popular writer Graham Salisbury masterfully combines the atmosphere of superstition and spooky stories around the fire at Camp Halape, with Hawaiian tales and legends of the Big Island locale, and the almost spiritual setting (the mana of place so important in Hawaiian mythology) on the slope of an active volcano in a near "perfect storm" to build suspense and create a thriller based on a true story. Night of the Howling Dogs is certainly a new direction for Graham Salisbury. Whereas his previous novels have focused primarily on character, this book focuses on the natural setting and survival of characters in conflict with the elements of nature. This time the place and the people rather than the period of history (World War II, for example, in Under the Blood-Red Sun and Eyes of the Emperor) drive the action. The novel's plot is tightly structured. The conflict in the opening pages of the story pits narrator Dylan and the other "good guys" against menacing and mysterious "Mr. Bad Man" Louie and the challenge of camping in a remote area on the side of volcano Moana Loa the Big Island of Hawaii. The geological instability of the natural setting and the growing possibility of impending disaster become the focus barely one third of the way into the novel.

Salisbury seamlessly blends the elements of plot with supernatural aspects of the setting--such as tales of the night marchers, the importance to the Hawaiians of akua, or good spirits associated with an area, as well as the importance of sharks as protectors to those who feed and befriend them. Fred, the shark with the bullet hole in his fin, turns out to be not a danger or threat to the boys but more of an amakua, or family god who can help those in trouble (138). The title's reference to the howling dogs ties in with the Hawaiian legend of Pele, who "was once a goddess, an akua" and who now "has a home up in Kilauea, at the volcano, right above where we are now," as Masa tells the group of Scouts around the campfire (97). It seems Pele often appears as a small white dog, just like the one Dylan hears first then sees high up on the cliff above the campsite during the night. To add to the mystery, Masa warns the group, "If you see that small white dog, something's going to happen" (99).

Many aspects of the novel are two-sided: the lava which can be smooth pahoehoe or aa like "shattered glass"; the location at Halape where the action occurs is first "a paradise" and later "A Watery Grave"; initially the description of the boys' camp near "a thick green coconut grove curved around a white sand beach" beyond which "a sky blue ocean [sits] smooth and calm" seems idyllic, but later on, the surging sea destroys virtually all of this peaceful setting; the "crack "where the boys enjoy swimming is both "dark down there" yet "where the sun shined on it you could see shadows under every rock and pebble on the bottom" (44). Even characters have both light and dark sides: Louie first creates tension among the members of the group, but it is he who ultimately pulls the team together in their battle to survive.

The novel is filled with foreshadowing, too. Like the ill-advised choices of the solitary man on the trail in Jack London's famous "To Build a Fire," actions of several of the campers are "stupid," and Salisbury's readers wait to see when the stupid ones will regret their folly. From Tad's lack of caution in not staying with his buddy Zach, to Dylan's "I was stupid" not to bring a hat for protection against the sun, to Mike and Louie's pitching their tent too close to the high water mark, it seems nearly every member of the group is sufficiently careless to warrant disaster.

In Night of the Howling Dogs, Salisbury again emphasizes positive character values. He uses the natural disaster to bring together characters--at least for a while. When Dylan pleas with Louie for his glasses, "unless you want to carry me home because I can't hike out of here without [my glasses]," Mr. Bad Man Louis, sasses back "Hoo, sissy-boy, I going to join Girl Scouts before I carry you" (85). Later when disaster hits, ironically Louis ends up carrying several different characters when his help is needed. Salisbury also works in the importance of respect and the positive aspects of Scouting even though it may not always be perceived as the "in" thing for young teens to do; as Mr. Bellows says, "I know you get teased for it [Scouting] at school" (27).

Because the characters range in age from eleven-year-old Tad (and his mommy-packed back pack) to Louie, the independent, mysterious fifteen year old who wears "a leather cord with a shark's tooth and silver skull hanging from it" (11-12), this book will appeal to middle school readers as well as to young adults. I will certainly recommend this book to my 7th graders, especially those who enjoy adventure and suspense. The suspense kept me turning pages, too!

Brenda Feigen's Not One of the Boys does what few memoirs do. It shows that all journeys must come full circle. Starting with her own education at Harvard Law School and the discrimination she bore there, she ends her pages by inviting the daughters of the future to join her in the on-going stuggle for feminist rights. Writing in prose that is never preachy or pretentious, Feigen, who helped establish Ms magazine, did bidding for the ACLU, assured the passage of the ERA, and gave Ruth Bader Ginsburg and Gloria Steinem the privilege of working with her, asks the reader to retrace her steps, which broke ground for all women every time she put her foot down. This book is a terrific read and a wonderful gift to those who still believe differences can be made by people who have the courage to make them. Brenda Feigen shows readers she has the stuff.

Not One of the Boys is satisfying on so many levels, as a biography, as a snapshot of the Women's Movement from its inception through the 1990s and as a discussion of how laws affect women. Brenda Feigen writes honestly, clearly and beautifully about her own experiences, what she sees as the failures of current feminism, theoretical differences between feminists and much, much more. I was completely enthralled by this book. Ms. Feigen very clearly conveys the excitement of the 1970s, the legal victories, the setbacks and her own emotions when facing a level of sexism that seems almost unimaginable today, although it took place less than 40 years ago. But this book is very personal, too, as she speaks about her marriage and other experiences that have shaped her perceptions and illustrate quite clearly the old saying 'the personal is political.' I could go on and on about how terrific this book is, how smart, how inspiring and how touching. Yet the real point is that I think that there's something in it for everyone, and I very highly recommend it. There's a great deal to be learned from this book and I hope that many, many other women and men explore it.

An anonymous American leader finally steps forward and reveals everything. Every female law student should read this. Brenda Feigen's story quickly reminded me of one thing: There is nothing so real as the impossible.

Brenda Feigen gives us an inside look at how it really was ... and she's not afraid to tell the truth about her treatment in Hollywood - horrifying and fascinating at the same time ... and at William Morris. The picture of Ruth Bader Ginsberg gave hope to this reader that the struggle is continuing in high places. I loved all the inside information about the startup of Ms Magazine and the complete legal picture of the progress of women in the last quarter of the 20th century. Read it for the gossip alone.

I loved this brave book. It is wonderful to read a chronicle of the times we grew up in. It read like a history of my life as a feminist, except that I was involved from the sidelines and Brenda Feigen was actually there, not only moving it along but making it up as she went along. Her observations on the future of feminism are worth the price of the whole book. We were, and I trust are, fortunate to have her fighting for us.

The verse of Ligurian poet Giuseppe Conte is finally available to an English-language audience with THE OCEAN AND THE BOY, Laura Stortoni's translation of his 1983 book "L'oceano e il ragazzo." Conte is one of the most striking poets in Italian literature of the second half of the 20th century, and he has fused Ligurian hermeticism with a deep concern for the natural world.

Giuseppe Conte's poetry is always aware of the fact that Nature remains the foundation and background for any civilization, even though she may be easily forgotten. He writes of how Mediterranean civilizations are all intricately linked with their common setting of sand and ocean, and the "I" in Conte's poetry is often linked to flora and fauna. In "After March" he writes, "I want only to bloom, to live again,I,/no longer I, but hibiscus, acacia." Conte's fascination with how Man remains connected to the land makes him an interesting European counterpart to Gary Snyder or the Native American poet Ray A. Youngbear.

Giuseppe Conte is learned in English literature and admires the works of D.H. Lawrence and Walt Whitman. As he writes in his introduction to this English edition, his thoughts have often been directed west to the Americas, and in fact he has travelled to the U.S. several times after the publication of "L'oceano e il ragazzo." In several places here, such as "The Conquest of Mexico," his poetry deals with the Aztec gods, metaphors for a natural world that remains even after the religion that personified its aspects has become extinct.

I can't comment much on Stortoni's translation of Conte's Italian, as I read the Italian text in this facing-page translation. However, I have glanced at her translation and it seems relatively faithful, although as a non-native speaker of English she does make occasionally idiosyncratic choices of phrase. Nonetheless, she deserves praise for making the work of the fascinating poet accessible to the English-language reader. She has also translated Maria Luisa Spaziani's SENTRY TOWERS into English and is certainly doing a great service for English speakers.

While not as intensely sublime as the poetry of Eugenio Montale, another famous Ligurian and winner of the Nobel prize in 1975, and not as influential as the works of Quasimodo or Ungaretti, the poetry of Giuseppe Conte is certainly worth a look. His use of modern style while reaching back to the dawn of Mediterranean civilization is truly moving.

Translator's Comments By Laura Anna Stortoni

Translating, From the Latin, transferre, means, in simple words, to carry something from one place to another. The literary translator carries words, the heaviest of all burdens, from one language to another. But the very act of choosing a certain poem is, first of all, a profession of identification. A remote, often arcane, reason strikes a special inner chord in the translator's soul, giving him/her no peace until the original poem is eaten, chewed, absorbed and finally regurgitated in the other language, having become fiber of the fiber, flesh of the flesh, of the translator. After translating a poem, I often think of it as mine. If I wanted to translate it in the first place, it was a poem I should have written myself. Giancarlo Pontiggia says that the literary translator should simply go where the text orders him to go, letting himself be carried away. I have always trusted my mysterious illuminations far more than the painstaking thirteen drafts that some have recommended for literary translators. While translating Giuseppe Conte's poetry, the "carrying" of the verses was light, spontaneous, with the English words magically appearing to my mind while I was reading the Italian text. This probably happened because Conte speaks of places I have seen, of feelings I have felt. The sea he describes was the sea where every summer I would roam those vast beaches, burnt by the sun and vexed by the winds.

Conte is as possessed by the sea as I am. The sea invades us, pervades us, in the same way that it pervades the poetry of Salvatore Quasimodo and of the Greek poets Elytis and Seferis. As I read Conte's poetry, I saw; and as I saw, the images translated themselves into English without any apparent effort on my part. This is the magic wrought by the poetry that strikes our arcane inner chords. The sea described in this volume is seen with the wonder of a child's eyes, a wonder akin to that of Homeric heroes. It is the "wine-colored sea" described by Homer, a sea fighting and loving, with unpredictable alternation, the earth and the beach, a sea that attempts to conquer, to devour, to attack, to then retreat in peace and soothing calm. The landscapes and seascapes described here are mythical and yet precise: for myths are never general, rather, they emerge from a complexity of details. Conte mentions specific names of local flora and fauna, describes the lush, precarious hills sloping towards the sea, attracted to the waves and yet threatened by them, just as we humans are attracted to danger. This landscape/seascape, sketched with the detailed technique of a naif painter, is a precise childhood memory acquiring the haunting proportions of myth. These memories deserve to be carried and be recorded into another language, so that they can also affect those who cannot read the original. And so I translated them. As a translator, I often feel, humbly, that I have opened a door so that others can enter. Please come in.

Translator's Comments By Laura Anna Stortoni

Translating, From the Latin, transferre, means, in simple words, to carry something from one place to another. The literary translator carries words, the heaviest of all burdens, from one language to another. But the very act of choosing a certain poem is, first of all, a profession of identification. A remote, often arcane, reason strikes a special inner chord in the translator's soul, giving him/her no peace until the original poem is eaten, chewed, absorbed and finally regurgitated in the other language, having become fiber of the fiber, flesh of the flesh, of the translator. After translating a poem, I often think of it as mine. If I wanted to translate it in the first place, it was a poem I should have written myself. Giancarlo Pontiggia says that the literary translator should simply go where the text orders him to go, letting himself be carried away. I have always trusted my mysterious illuminations far more than the painstaking thirteen drafts that some have recommended for literary translators. While translating Giuseppe Conte's poetry, the "carrying" of the verses was light, spontaneous, with the English words magically appearing to my mind while I was reading the Italian text. This probably happened because Conte speaks of places I have seen, of feelings I have felt. The sea he describes was the sea where every summer I would roam those vast beaches, burnt by the sun and vexed by the winds.

Conte is as possessed by the sea as I am. The sea invades us, pervades us, in the same way that it pervades the poetry of Salvatore Quasimodo and of the Greek poets Elytis and Seferis. As I read Conte's poetry, I saw; and as I saw, the images translated themselves into English without any apparent effort on my part. This is the magic wrought by the poetry that strikes our arcane inner chords. The sea described in this volume is seen with the wonder of a child's eyes, a wonder akin to that of Homeric heroes. It is the "wine-colored sea" described by Homer, a sea fighting and loving, with unpredictable alternation, the earth and the beach, a sea that attempts to conquer, to devour, to attack, to then retreat in peace and soothing calm. The landscapes and seascapes described here are mythical and yet precise: for myths are never general, rather, they emerge from a complexity of details. Conte mentions specific names of local flora and fauna, describes the lush, precarious hills sloping towards the sea, attracted to the waves and yet threatened by them, just as we humans are attracted to danger. This landscape/seascape, sketched with the detailed technique of a naif painter, is a precise childhood memory acquiring the haunting proportions of myth. These memories deserve to be carried and be recorded into another language, so that they can also affect those who cannot read the original. And so I translated them. As a translator, I often feel, humbly, that I have opened a door so that others can enter. Please come in.

Translator's Comments By Laura Anna Stortoni

Translating, From the Latin, transferre, means, in simple words, to carry something from one place to another. The literary translator carries words, the heaviest of all burdens, from one language to another. But the very act of choosing a certain poem is, first of all, a profession of identification. A remote, often arcane, reason strikes a special inner chord in the translator's soul, giving him/her no peace until the original poem is eaten, chewed, absorbed and finally regurgitated in the other language, having become fiber of the fiber, flesh of the flesh, of the translator. After translating a poem, I often think of it as mine. If I wanted to translate it in the first place, it was a poem I should have written myself. Giancarlo Pontiggia says that the literary translator should simply go where the text orders him to go, letting himself be carried away. I have always trusted my mysterious illuminations far more than the painstaking thirteen drafts that some have recommended for literary translators. While translating Giuseppe Conte's poetry, the "carrying" of the verses was light, spontaneous, with the English words magically appearing to my mind while I was reading the Italian text. This probably happened because Conte speaks of places I have seen, of feelings I have felt. The sea he describes was the sea where every summer I would roam those vast beaches, burnt by the sun and vexed by the winds.

Conte is as possessed by the sea as I am. The sea invades us, pervades us, in the same way that it pervades the poetry of Salvatore Quasimodo and of the Greek poets Elytis and Seferis. As I read Conte's poetry, I saw; and as I saw, the images translated themselves into English without any apparent effort on my part. This is the magic wrought by the poetry that strikes our arcane inner chords. The sea described in this volume is seen with the wonder of a child's eyes, a wonder akin to that of Homeric heroes. It is the "wine-colored sea" described by Homer, a sea fighting and loving, with unpredictable alternation, the earth and the beach, a sea that attempts to conquer, to devour, to attack, to then retreat in peace and soothing calm. The landscapes and seascapes described here are mythical and yet precise: for myths are never general, rather, they emerge from a complexity of details. Conte mentions specific names of local flora and fauna, describes the lush, precarious hills sloping towards the sea, attracted to the waves and yet threatened by them, just as we humans are attracted to danger. This landscape/seascape, sketched with the detailed technique of a naif painter, is a precise childhood memory acquiring the haunting proportions of myth. These memories deserve to be carried and be recorded into another language, so that they can also affect those who cannot read the original. And so I translated them. As a translator, I often feel, humbly, that I have opened a door so that others can enter. Please come in.

Book Review: "The Ocean and the Boy"

"The Ocean and the Boy" is a wonderful compilation of Italian poetry written by Giuseppe Conte and translated by Laura Stortoni. Conte's poems touch on many themes, from pre-Colombian Mexico, to his childhood, to Greek mythology. My favorite theme, though, one that runs consistently through Conte's poetry, is the theme of Nature. Conte spends many lines either intricately describing the flora and fauna that surrounds him, or defining himself in terms of Nature: "I want only to bloom, to revive, I,/ no longer I, but hibiscus, acacia. . ." Of particular interest to me were his poems about the sea, including "What Was the Sea?", "You Should Have Heard the Wind", and "The Ocean and the Boy Walk...." I love the way Conte describes the ocean of his childhood: "It had/ tails and paws of water among the/ rocks, it polished the pebbles, it made. Cyphers of light on the sand: it was/ deep but unfeeling, they said, and celibate, individual, sterile." and "the wind/ of the sea, lifting the waves, tearing up/ the clouds and reweaving them. . ." These poems spoke to me because as a child that had the good fortune to grow up near the sea, Conte made me recall my own experiences: warnings of the oceans unpredictable behavior and the terror I felt (and still sometimes feel in my nightmares) that the huge mass of blue would swallow me up if I waded in too deeply. Yet, one does not have to have had to experience the sea as a child to appreciate these poems, only an understanding of the ocean as a metaphor for incomprehensible and seemingly endless vastness. In "The Ocean and the Boy Walk" Conte presents the ocean as a metaphor for his mind or unconscious, Conte IS the ocean, the ocean (his unconscious) even speaks for him when he cannot "The Boy is mute, the Ocean cries/ far-off cries,...the Ocean does not keep silent, no,/ the Boy descending, knows/ there is a voice, deeper than the darkness. . ." The layout of this book is as equally as impressive as the poetry contained within. Each original poem is presented with the English translation on the opposite page, giving the reader the opportunity to reference as they please. Having the poems side by side makes this book perfect for those interested in learning Italian or learning how to translate from Italian to English, or vice versa, regardless of the reader's level. Printing the Italian is also a credit to the translator, Laura Stortoni, for this forces her to be extremely true to the original poem. That aside, credit is due to her just for the simple fact that now those who are not literate in Italian have the opportunity to enjoy Conte's poetry. When I was studying for my B.A. in Spanish Literature I came to realize just how important it was to experience the literature of other cultures. And of course no translation, no matter how accurate, can compare with the original, but reading a translated version is better than nothing at all. I also began to understand that what makes a good novelist, playwright, or poet, are those can reach an audience beyond their own culture. This is the type of poet Conte is: universal. This book of poetry is filled with poems that can speak to any human once the barrier of language has been broken down. I highly recommend it.

A poetry lover from Santa Barbara, CA

My grandfather gave me a paperback edition of the "The Old Man and The Boy" when I was about twelve. I am thirty three now and this book has never left my side. I have since acquired "The Old Man's Boy Grows Older." This work has similiar flavour. For those sporting people who long for the days of ethics and morality in the field and in the home this book is a must read. You can virtually smell the campfire, hear the Quail calling and learn some important lessons on life and sport.

As a success in my field, I was questioned by my trade organization what management books I kept on my desk. Only one: The Old Man and the Boy.

My mother gave this to me to read when I was 8 or 9. I have since grown up to be an avid hunter with respect for my elders and the great outdoors. I now have a son who is approaching 19 who has also read the book. He has been fortunate to have an "Old Man" by his side.

My father and I have read this book over and over. Now that I live in a large city, reading "The Old Man and The Boy" reminds me of my childhood, life in a rural community and the satisfaction of learning proper etiquette in the outdoors from someone older and wiser than I.

I've owned this book for a number of years & I find it is DEFINITELY a "keeper". My wife can"t understand why I drag it out & re-read it every Fall. I'd read & enjoyed Ruark's fiction in my younger days, but when I stumbled across "The Old Man & The Boy" it reminded me of times in the woods & on the water with my own father & the life lessons I was taught at those times. Both books together are simply a double treasure.

I bought this book for my grandson's 5th birthday. He is already beginning to read, so I had mixed feelings about no written text. However the drawings are so narrative that the lack of written language is a mute point. I think it will be a good experience overall for him to use another part of his brain to "read" the story. He loves Mercer Mayer, as do I, and we have been reading Little Critter, Littler Monster, etc. since he was born. Some of the books we own were ones that I read to his mom and aunt.

This book was recommended by my sister who is a speech pathologist. She was testing a student who had been misdiagnosed as having no English. She asked the child to tell her what he was happening in the pictures and he went about explaining what was happening, in English. This wordless book is a useful tool for any teacher to have. It could be used to determine how much language they have and what they know.

This is such a fun book. The Mayers do an amazing job!! This is a wordless picture book. The story is about a boy who receives a frog for a present-the problem is he already has one!! You will truly laugh out loud as you follow the story with the entertaining pictures that tell far more than words ever could. It also is a great tool for teaching children to tell a story to you (enhancing vocabulary and reading skills). They can use the pictures and make up their own story. My kids LOVE this book and at seven and five they still get it out sometimes to show their friends or just for a laugh. If you enjoy this one be sure to check out the other titles in this series. "Frog Goes to Dinner" and "A Boy, A Dog and A Frog"

I love this book! While all of Mercer Mayer's wordless frog books are delightful, this is definitely my favorite. A picture is definitely worth a thousand words in this case. From beginning to end every characters' thoughts and emotions are perfectly clear. The illustrations are delightful and the characters' body language and facial expressions are wonderfully expressive. Even very young children can look at this book and understand what is going on.

Mercer Mayer's A Boy, a Dog and a Frog series is excellent overall. The illustrations are charming, with naturalistic detail, and delightfully exaggerated expressions on the characters' faces. I'd single out Frog Goes to Dinner myself, as perhaps my favorite book in the series. I've read all of them with my son, however, and this is the one he likes best.

What makes the series so good? the simple, wordless stories are easily understood by the youngest of children. However, they are universal enough (amusing, and with heartfelt emotion) that even adults will enjoy them. Plus, its great for a child's creativity to turn the book over to him and have him "read" the story.

this book was a favorite of mine as a child and it will be a great addition to my collection of books for my future grandchildren. I am so happy that it is back in print!

My daughter is a big fan of Harold books. This is another great book, and it's good for beginning readers.

My two year old enjoys Harold and I just love how imaginative Harold is. I hope the stories encourage my child to think big too. This story is not read in our house quite as often as the original Harold or Harold's Trip to the Sky.

I adored this book when I was a kid (some 30 years ago) and since then I have read it out loud to lots of kids -- including groups in hospitals and at libraries. They always love it -- expecially the age 3 to 5 crowd. The illustrations are very simple, but really appealing to kids. It's also a terrific book for beginning readers since the vocabulary is pretty simple.

Harold needs a picture on his wall, so he takes a crayon and starts to draw and his pictures seem to come to life, getting bigger and bigger as he draws first a line, then a little town, then some woods, then a road. He drew the moon, mountains, clouds and the sea. Then a boat on the sea, fish too, then a cliff and a lighthouse on the cliff. More mountains and clouds next, then train tracks and all of a sudden Harold is lost in his drawing. Fortunately he can erase it and find his way back.

This is a nice little fantasy story my son Devon just loves. Of course I've been making up words for the last year or so, but now that he's approaching three and knows all his letters and that letters form words, he is getting a new appreciation for this book. I am too.

This is a book for beginning readers. The words are simple, grammar too. Harold's story is sure to keep your toddler interested, so much better than the "See Spot Run" kind of early readers. If you want your child reading before Kindergarten, and I do, then this book and books like it are very good additions to your toddlers reading arsenal.

Lucy Malone has just moved to Malibu, California, and even though she's got a totally awesome room in an amazing new house, things aren't going well. All her friends are back home in Toledo, Ohio, and it doesn't seem like she's going to be making any new friends soon. But opportunity soon presents itself in the form of soccer tryouts. Lucy was on the varsity soccer team at her old school, so being on the team in Malibu would be a chance to show off something she's good at. But she's not good enough; she doesn't make the final cut for the team and is heartbroken.

Lucy doesn't feel that she has anything going for her now until the soccer coach Martie suggests Lucy use her strong and accurate kick to try out for the boys' varsity football team. At first, Lucy is skeptical; after all, she is a girl who wants to fit in. But then she gives it a try and makes it. She soon finds out that football may be her calling. Unfortunately, her father forbids her from playing football, but that doesn't stop Lucy.

Lucy constantly feels like she has to prove herself. Along with joining the football team comes hazing and potential friends. Throughout the novel, Lucy's tentative friendships with members of the soccer team, the football team, several popular cheerleaders, her father, and a very sweet boy named Benji are tried. Lucy finds out which friendships are worth it, and comes to terms with her father.

Playing with the Boys was a thoroughly enjoyable novel, even though I didn't understand most of the football terms. I am definitely not a sports person, so I found it relieving that I was learning all about football along with Lucy. The novel was very straightforward and slightly predictable, but it didn't make the story any less sweet. I recommend this book to people who like sports novels, such as Pretty Tough also by Liz Tigelaar, Screwball by Keri Mikulski, and Dairy Queen and The Off Season by Catherine Murdock. I actually haven't read any of these novels yet, but am planning on it because Playing with the Boys was such a fun novel to read.

[...]

If you like Dairy Queen and The Off-Season by Catherine Gilbert Murdock, then you'll like the PrettyTOUGH books by Liz Tigelaar. The tagline for the series is perfect: Who says you can't be both pretty AND tough?

Playing with the Boys is the second book in the PrettyTOUGH line and takes place at the same school as the first book, but with a different protagonist. Shortly after moving to town and starting a new school year, Lucy tries out for the soccer team. She doesn't make it, but the letdown is replaced by surprise when she's recruited for the boys' football team due to her awesome kicking ability. After she gets a crash course in football - and a quick crush on a popular boy - Lucy has to prove herself to her classmates, her teammates, her coach, and her widowed father.

Tigelaar's stories will score major points with female athletes. The books, though fictional, are associated with the real-life girls-and-sports association PrettyTOUGH. Both the books and the association encourage young women to try out for sports teams and go for their goals. Girls CAN be both pretty and tough, both on and off of the field!

Lucy's father forced her to move to Malibu right after her freshman year of high school. She's heartbroken to leave her best friend and the house where everything reminds of her mother.

The first week has been rough, but then she starts soccer tryouts. Lucy loves soccer and being a part of the team. She's devastated when her name is not on the list. However, the coach pulls her aside and tells her that the football team needs a quick replacement kicker and she should try out. At first, Lucy thinks the idea is crazy, but the more she thinks about it the more she likes it.

She makes the team, but doesn't have the instant camaraderie that she's been craving. Instead, the team members give her a hard time. Her father has forbidden her to join the team, so she lies. He thinks she's joined the cheerleading squad. He will discover the truth soon and then Lucy will have to figure out how hard she'll fight to remain on a team that doesn't want her.

Lucy Malone's determination and strength leads her to go where no other girl in school has gone before - the all-boys football team. Once on the team, she doesn't shy away from all the pressure, the grief, and her father's objections.

Reviewed by: Jennifer Rummel

A great story! This book encourages young women to unleash the potential to play one of the best sports on earth. As a female football player, I hope more young women see that they aren't limited to just being one of the girls.

Playing with the Boys is even better than the first book in the Pretty Tough series. I love how gutsy Lucy is - how she shows that girls can do anything they want. I laughed and cried along with her and after reading this book, I may want to try out for the football team. What a great way to meet guys!!