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I am not sure today's children would enjoy this book. The 19th Century British-isms will probably be quite tedious to any but the most precocious of children. And nothing really "happens" so to speak. No adventures of overwhelming magnitude. Rather, the children's imagination governs what happens throughout the book. Small things are turned into events of great importance. Children brought up with video games will most likely be bored. But for an adult, ahhh! This is a find. It will make you yearn for the idyllic childhood you never had or anybody had for that matter.
Each chapter is like sunlight shining on a bead of dew in April. Or something similarily poetic. Grahame's the better writer anyway.
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Who can go wrong at $9.99 with such printing quality as this hardback?
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While some of the color prints fail to do the artist justice and there are far too many black and white reproductions, the book is a wonderful catalog of Parrish's work. Oddly, I was surprised to learn of Parrish's obsession with model/muse, Susan Lewin; a woman completly eliminated in Ludwig's treatment of Parrish. To gain an more complete appreciation of Parrish, one should understand that relationship. Perhaps, in addition to purchasing this book, one should obtain the PAFA'a catalog of their Parrish exhibition
This volume satisfied that craving long enough for me to catch my breath.
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Despite having had my copy of 'Poems of Childhood' for ten years, I know absolutely nothing about Eugene Field save what I can infer from the poems in this collection. From their recurring themes, and the order in which they appear, I can guess that Field lost a child who was very precious to him . . . was slowly healed of his grief by the love and presence of other children . . . and was given a second chance with the birth of a new baby.
There are about 15 poems that hint of that lost child and a handful that juxtapose sleep and death, making me wonder if the baby died in its sleep. Other sad poems are merely wistful about beloved children who have grown up. Thankfully, there are just as many happy poems as sad ones: cheery verses about toys, imaginary creatures, and playground games. Field also wrote several 'lullabies' that are perfect for rocking children to sleep, whether or not they are put to music.
I don't know any other poet who has brought such dignity to "babytalk." Toddlers in his poems are called names like Pittypat, Tippytoe, Googly-Goo and Luddy-Dud. His imaginary fairies include Amberglee, Daisybright and Pilfercurds. Moreover, I'm sure that no other collection of children's poems has this many terms for "dreamland"--Blinkiwink garden, Shut-Eye town, and Hushaby street, to name a few.
Though Field could be accused of writing the same poems over and over again, most of his verses have such distinctive _personalities_ that this is not entirely true. What they _all_ have in common is his delicate touch--yes, even the ones in which his voice turns rustic and homey--that has endeared him to children and grown ups alike.