Review of The Fantastic Undersea Life of Jacques Cousteau, by Dan Yaccarino

jacques_cousteauThe Fantastic Undersea Life of Jacques Cousteau

by Dan Yaccarino

Alfred A. Knopf, New York, 2009. 36 pages.

What is a scientist after all? It is a curious man looking through a keyhole, the keyhole of nature, trying to know what’s going on. — Jacques Cousteau

This picture book biography tells the story of Jacques Cousteau’s amazing life with simple details and evocative pictures. Looking at the pictures brought me right back to the days when my family used to watch the TV show, The Undersea World of Jacques Cousteau. Every page includes an inspiring or illustrative quotation from Jacques Cousteau.

Jacques Cousteau began his fascination with the sea as a sickly child, encouraged to swim to build up his strength. He was also a scientist, tinkering with cameras from a young age. Those two passions combined encouraged him to expand the technology available for ocean exploration, and to share what he discovered with the world.

It fascinated me to do something that seemed impossible. — Jacques Cousteau

This beautiful biography will fascinate children with the sea and what one man can do to expand knowledge for everyone.

When one man, for whatever reason, has the opportunity to lead an extraordinary life, he has no right to keep it to himself. — Jacques Cousteau

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Review of French by Heart, by Rebecca S. Ramsey

french_by_heartFrench by Heart

An American Family’s Adventures in La Belle France

by Rebecca S. Ramsey

Broadway Books, New York, 2007. 308 pages.
Starred Review
Sonderbooks Stand-out 2010: #4 Nonfiction: True Stories

Having lived in Germany for ten years, French by Heart is exactly the sort of book I love — someone else’s tale of making a home in another country. There’s much that I relate to from my own experiences, much that I enjoy vicariously, and a wistful feeling of “Wouldn’t I love to move to France for four years!”

Rebecca Ramsey’s husband works for Michelin, and for four years they moved their family to Clermont-Ferrand, four hours south of Paris. Her three children attended the local French school, and her family’s way of doing things quickly came under the scrutiny of their neighbor, a grandmotherly type with definite opinions.

Rebecca has a wonderful way of pulling you into the confusions and delights of living in a foreign country, of beginning to feel like you belong, while always knowing you are different. She expresses the joys and frustrations of building a friendship with her nosy and opinionated neighbor. We cringe with her as she describes the daunting adventure of getting stitches for her bleeding son, and feel pride with her at her success.

One of the things I love about living in a foreign country is how it adds a certain sense of wonder even to the events of daily life — shopping, going out to eat, going to school, talking with friends. Everything is new and different, memorable and exciting.

Rebecca Ramsey catches some of that as she describes their arrival in France:

“What was it about this place that was so enchanting? Even with my queasiness, I couldn’t help feeling charmed by it, from the old brass door knockers shaped like a lady’s hand to the women, young and old, with their sultry eyes and obvious confidence. As we walked by the cafes I tried not to stare at the people sitting there, their beautiful French words twirling out of their mouths, mingling with the swirls of coffee perfuming the crisp morning air. I wanted to understand it all, the Frenchiness of this place. I wanted to be part of it and for it to be a part of me — a part of us, our family. We hoped to have four years or so in France. Could that happen in four years? We were nervous, yes, but our American hearts were open. Could we be French too, just for a little while? French, not by citizenship, but by heart?”

Reading this book, France will win a place in your own heart, too.

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Review of Stitches, by David Small

stitchesStitches

A Memoir

by David Small

W. W. Norton & Company, New York, 2009. 329 pages.

It is always poignant when a successful, accomplished adult tells the story of a painful childhood. When the person telling the story is a skilled artist telling the story in graphic form, it has all the more power.

David Small is an award-winning illustrator of picture books for children. His memoir, however, is not for children.

When he was a child, he was given x-ray “therapy” as treatment for a sinus condition. That well-meaning therapy gave him cancer as a teenager, leaving scars both on his skin and on his voice.

The abuse he suffered is all the more poignant in that much of it was well-meaning, and some of it simply neglect. In this powerful graphic memoir, he shows us how the world looked to a little boy and a teen going through difficult things at the hands of those who were supposed to love him.

A moving and memorable story.

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Review of Led by Faith, by Immaculee Ilibagiza

led_by_faithLed By Faith

Rising from the Ashes of the Rwandan Genocide

by Immaculee Ilibagiza

with Steve Erwin

Hay House, Carlsbad, California, 2008. 205 pages.
Starred Review
Sonderbooks Stand-out 2010: #2 Nonfiction: True Stories

Led By Faith continues the story Immaculee Ilibagiza began in Left To Tell, telling what happened after her amazing escape from the Rwandan Holocaust. That story is an astonishing one of survival and of how God spared her life, protected her, and helped her to forgive the evil men who killed her family and so many others.

Led By Faith tells of Immaculee’s less glamorous struggles, trying to follow God’s leading in the aftermath of the horror. She deals with more prosaic concerns like sexual harrassment, fighting false accusations, breaking up with her boyfriend, paying for a wedding, and finding a job in America. In many ways, these struggles were much easier for me to relate to, but she still deals with them with amazing faith and forgiveness.

The timing of my reading this was excellent, coming just when I needed it. Last night, I got a chance glimpse on Facebook of a young woman whom I knew had had a long-standing affair with a married man, and encouraged him to leave his wife and kids. Then shortly afterward I saw on a friend’s profile the profile picture of a man I’d been acquainted with — who was posing with a smiling young woman — presumably the woman he abandoned his wife and kids for.

That got me reflecting on how much, how very much, pain and suffering is caused to people and to innocent children by adultery — and yet our culture treats it as if it’s all a lovely step of growth, something to be proud of. Such men proudly appear in public with their new “love,” pretending they haven’t made fools of themselves and deeply wounded the very people they promised to love and cherish.

I have many friends now who have been betrayed by their husbands. Some are happily married now to someone else, some are happily married to their original husbands, some are living a happy single life, and some are still in the midst of the pain and suffering. But all suffered horribly, all have been through incredible and unbelievable pain. All would agree with me that there is a reason that God calls adultery evil, plain and simple.

But I like Immaculee’s approach to people around her doing evil. Here is what she thought when two men with power tricked her and trapped her in a hotel room with plans to rape her:

“I was no longer afraid of Mr. E, and I was no longer afraid of Kingston. I felt sorry for these men, who only looked for material gain or physical gratification, never caring whom they hurt to satisfy their wants. Looking at Mr. E, I now saw him for what he was: a weak and pleading man with a dirty mind standing by the edge of a hotel bed. All he saw when he looked at me was an orphan he could mistreat without fear of getting caught or facing the consequences. It was all too familiar, and God had helped me through far worse situations with men far more vicious and depraved than Mr. E.

“What good did he think his power would do him when he faced God? How could he think his money would protect him when all he had could be snatched away from him in an instant?

“I wanted to tell him about meeting Mupundu, who’d been a big politician in the Hutu government and the richest woman in Mataba . . . until she gave in to the bloodlust of the genocide. I saw her limping back to our village from Zaire, and she’d lost everything — her money, her power, her family. She didn’t even have shoes to cover her bleeding feet. She’d turned from God, and she’d lost the only real thing she could count on, just as surely as Mr. E would lose everything unless he turned his heart away from wickedness and back to the Lord.”

Don’t Immaculee’s words apply equally well to any sinner? She is consistent in reminding the reader what a horrible place those who do evil have gotten themselves into. We can forgive them, because God is more than capable of taking care of their punishment, and their own consciences will punish them cruelly. If we refuse to forgive, then we only bring ourselves into that hell with them. Why should we give them so much power, when turning to God, Who gives the power to love and forgive, can bring such healing?

I’ve noticed with my friends who have been betrayed that the betrayers consistently aren’t able to face the guilt and shame of what they’ve done — so they consistently blame their wives for their actions. They don’t want forgiveness, which would imply they had done something wrong. They want to be excused. They want to go along with our culture’s lines like “They were too different,” or, “She didn’t meet my needs.” In the case of the Rwandan genocide, the government was all too eager to portray the Tutsis as insects who needed to be exterminated. But, inevitably, the guilt came later.

Immaculee’s perspective, to first feel sorry for the perpetrators, is so valid. That young woman can smile in the profile picture — but how in the world can she possibly have a healthy relationship with someone who is already established as a liar and a cheater? And why is it, with the broken marriages I know about, that the one who cheated is the one eaten up and consumed by hatred, bitterness and lack of forgiveness? Where is all that happiness they said they were going to find by leaving their wives?

Okay, I’m going on and on about what was on my mind when I was reading the book, and not about the book itself. But it’s that kind of book — a beautiful model of love and forgiveness and guidance and walking by faith. It tells you that sinners are to be pitied, and evil can be overcome by good. The principles can apply to almost anyone.

If you have ever been wronged, if you have ever noticed evil in the world around you, if you have ever worried about what to do next or how you would get by, then you can learn from and be inspired by Immaculee’s story.

I wish her all the blessings in the world. And I love her message that love and forgiveness can overcome hatred and evil.

In the Epilogue, she goes back to Rwanda for her brother’s wedding and finds a country that is healing. This is the beautiful ending to the book:

“Cousin Ganza had told me that people were healing in Rwanda, that faith was being restored. God, he said, was working a miracle of forgiveness in our country. Gazing out over the glowing city below me, I knew that this miracle would inspire the entire world. If the evil that was unleashed here could be conquered with love, where could evil not be conquered? If the hearts of Rwanda could be healed through forgiveness, then what heart couldn’t?

“The sun slipped beyond the horizon, its last rays illuminating the tops of a thousand hills. It was enough light for the entire world to see Rwanda rising from the ashes of genocide.”

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Review of Four Seasons in Rome, by Anthony Doerr

four_seasons_in_romeFour Seasons in Rome

On Twins, Insomnia, and the Biggest Funeral in the History of the World

by Anthony Doerr

Scribner, New York, 2007. 210 pages.

Anthony Doerr won an award to come to Rome for a year to write. What a fabulous opportunity! The timing, however, was interesting — the fellowship began when his twin sons were six months old.

Four Seasons in Rome tells the story of that chaotic and amazing year when Anthony Doerr and his wife and infant sons got to live in the Eternal City. This wonderful book combines aspects of many types of memoir: the bemused blunderings and awe of a new parent, cross-cultural adventures and misadventures, musings about the writing process and the ways we avoid it, and the wonders of Rome.

I had an extra interest in the book, because the time our family visited Rome (our last family vacation as an intact family) was during the very year that Anthony Doerr was there — We were there after the Pope’s funeral, but before the next Pope was elected. So we saw a teeny tiny bit of what he mentions.

Here’s a little taste:

“Every few days there are moments of excruciating beauty. We are simultaneously more happy and more worn out than we have ever been in our lives. We communicate by grinning and pointing and waving food in the air. We don’t sleep as well as we used to. Our expectations (today I might take a shower; the #75 bus might actually show up) are routinely dashed. Just when we think we have a system (two naps a day; Shauna finds a rosticceria with chickens on spits that is open on Sundays), the system collapses. Just when we think we know our way around, we get lost. Just when we think we know what’s coming next, everything changes.”

It’s fun to vicariously share in Anthony Doerr’s experiences, not quite sure whether to envy him or to feel sorry for him — mostly glad I can enjoy it in nice comfortable book form.

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Review of Left to Tell, by Immaculee Ilibagiza

left_to_tellLeft to Tell

Discovering God Amidst the Rwandan Holocaust

by Immaculee Ilibagiza
with Steve Erwin

Hay House, Carlsbad, California, 2006. 215 pages.
Starred Review
Sonderbooks Stand-out 2010: #1 Nonfiction: True Stories

Left to Tell is an incredible book and tells an amazing story. Immaculee Ilibagiza survived the Rwandan holocaust by hiding in a tiny bathroom with seven other women. What’s more, they had to be absolutely quiet, and were often able to hear killers describing what they had done in exterminating “cockroaches,” even someone describing with glee how her own brother had died horribly.

You would think that a book that even mentions such horrors would be tremendously depressing. Instead, reading this book uplifted and inspired me.

You see, Immaculee, with God’s help, has been able to forgive the people who killed her family and devastated her country. The fiery trial has made her truly beautiful, and even her book radiates this beautiful, loving, and forgiving spirit.

I do appreciate that she never pretends the forgiveness came easily. She describes when they first went into hiding, how there seemed to be a constant negative voice saying they’d be found, they’d be killed. Later on, after she thought she was done forgiving, all the waves of anger and hatred came back when she saw her destroyed family home and her brother’s mutilated remains.

But Immaculee learned the power of prayer in combating those feelings and those voices of discouragement and hatred. Since she couldn’t speak to the other women, Immaculee spent most of the three months in the bathroom praying. Is it any wonder she grew to feel close to God?

And there were miracles of protection and comfort. A time when killers were specifically looking for her, on the other side of the door, she was given a vision of protection and saw a glowing cross standing in front of that door. And the killers never found her.

I’ve read many books on forgiveness since my husband left me. But books about the theories of forgiveness, although helpful, can’t begin to hold the power of this book showing practical forgiveness in action. The horrors perpetuated against Immaculee’s family and nation were astronomically beyond any wrongs I have ever suffered. After reading this book, those wrongs seem utterly inconsequential. If Immaculee can, by God’s power, forgive such horrors, and by doing so become a radiantly beautiful person, then surely I can forgive such tiny wrongs as have been done against me. And I do believe that such forgiveness will make me a tiny bit more beautiful.

The message I got from this book is how forgiveness is always worth it, no matter how difficult. I am so glad I read this radiant and inspiring story.

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Review of The Lincolns, by Candace Fleming

lincolnsThe Lincolns

A Scrapbook Look at Abraham and Mary

by Candace Fleming

Schwartz & Wade Books (Random House), New York, 2008. 181 pages.
Starred Review
Sonderbooks Stand-out 2010: #2 Children’s Nonfiction

Candace Fleming’s scrapbook biographies are truly amazing. I reviewed her similar book Ben Franklin’s Almanac back in 2004. This newer book, The Lincolns is equally complete and enlightening.

Instead of just telling us about Abraham and Mary Lincoln, Candace Fleming has brought together photographs, letters, news articles, and things written about them by their contemporaries. It does take time and attention to get through this book, but it is never boring, and you will feel like you have special insight into the great man and his volatile but much-loved wife by the time you are done.

Clearly Candace Fleming put in tremendous amounts of time and research to produce this exceptional book. She has produced a wonderful resource, not merely for children doing reports, but for anyone wanting to know more about the Lincolns and the Civil War.

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Review of Wise Guy, by M. D. Usher

wise_guyWise Guy

The Life and Philosophy of Socrates

by M. D. Usher

Pictures by William Bramhall

Farrar Straus Giroux, New York, 2005. 36 pages.

I find it rather amazing that M. D. Usher was able to write an accessible picture book biography of Socrates, based entirely on ancient sources (as the endnote declares).

The book tells an entertaining, vividly illustrated story, with sidenotes on scrolls that simply and clearly explain details of Socrates’ life and philosophy. I especially like the pictures of Socrates dancing. We’re told he loved to party.

Here’s an example of one of the sidenotes:

“What is an idea? Is it a thing you can smell, taste, or touch? If not, is it any less real than a bed or table? What is the difference between the idea of a bed and the bed itself? Socrates argued that the carpenter must have an idea or image of a bed in his mind before he can go about building one. But where does this idea come from in the first place? Socrates seems to have believed that objects in our world have an invisible, eternal blueprint to which they correspond. The eternal blueprint of a bed may not seem so very interesting, but Socrates applied the idea to larger concepts, like right and wrong and good and bad. Just as a carpenter with vast knowledge and experience can make a good bed, and in turn be a good carpenter, a person who has studied the blueprint of right and wrong can be a good person.”

This isn’t a book that students will seek out for reports, but it’s an entertaining picture book biography with surprisingly intriguing ideas. Reading this book gave me the idea of making a display at the library of picture book biographies — as a group they are underappreciated and hidden away in the more “serious” biographies. But they make intriguing reading, are highly educational, and give you an inspirational look at the lives of some truly great people.

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Review of Resilience, by Elizabeth Edwards

resilience
Resilience

Reflections on the Burdens and Gifts of Facing Life’s Adversities

by Elizabeth Edwards

Broadway Books, New York, 2009. 213 pages.

Elizabeth Edwards has had to deal with the death of her beloved sixteen-year-old son, having cancer, and her husband’s betrayal. Reading this book doesn’t give answers for dealing with issues of that magnitude, but it does feel like talking with a sister who’s been there. Comforting and reassuring, her words help you carry on, whatever your own issues are. Not because she seems so together, but because she’s open and honest about ways that she is not together.

She says,

“Each time I fell into a chasm — my son’s death or a tumor in my breast or an unwelcome woman in my life — I had to accept that the planet had taken a few turns and I could not turn it back. My life was and would always be different, and it would be less than I hoped it would be. Each time, there was a new life, a new story. And the less time I spent trying to pretend that Wade was alive or that my life would be just as long or that my marriage would be as magical, the longer I clung to the hope that my old life might come back, the more I set myself up for unending discontent. In time, I learned that I was starting a new story. I write these words as if that is the beginning and end of what I did, but it is only a small slice of the middle, a place that is hard to reach and, in reaching it, only a stepping-off place for finding or creating a new life with our new reality. Each time I got knocked down, it took me some time just to get to acceptance, and in each case, that was only part of the way home.”

This book is a gentle exploration of that process.

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Review of Not Becoming My Mother, by Ruth Reichl

not_becoming_my_mother
Not Becoming My Mother
And Other Things She Taught Me Along the Way

by Ruth Reichl

The Penguin Press, New York, 2009. p. 112

Not Becoming My Mother is a quick read that will leave you with a meditative smile.

Ruth Reichl explores her memories of her mother along with a collection of letters she left behind. She muses that her mother wanted Ruth’s life to be very different from her own, which indeed it was.

In Ruth’s mother’s day, marriage and a career were mutually exclusive. She made choices based on what her own mother wanted. She worked hard to make sure that her daughter would not follow that pattern.

This little book gets the reader thinking, along with Ruth, about life choices and mother-daughter patterns.

The title by no means reflects disrespect for her mother. On the contrary, she says,

“In her own oblique way Mom passed on all the knowledge she had gleaned, giving me the tools I needed not to become her. Believing that work, beauty, marriage and motherhood were the forces that had shaped her destiny, she tried to teach me how to do better at each of them than she had. . . .

“Growing up, I was utterly oblivious to the fact that Mom was teaching me all that. But I was instantly aware of her final lesson, which was hidden in her notes and letters. As I read them I began to understand that in the end you are the only one who can make yourself happy. More important, Mom showed me that it is never too late to find out how to do it.”

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