I’ve spent the past couple of nights reading The Tales of My Father’s Dragon. It got me kind of teary-eyed (though it’s not a teary story) because I’m pretty sure it’s the first book my son handed to me and insisted that I read.
Normally it is me thrusting books into his hands, or reading them out loud with our knees making mountains of the covers. I gave him the Encyclopedia Brown books from my childhood and my battered copy of Patrick Will Grow. My husband and I fought over who would read The Phantom Tollbooth (he won, unfortunately, and they proceeded to read it three times, but I won for Half Magic, the Moomin books, Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH, and Charlie and the Chocolate Factory.) When my son was sick with Strep throat I held up a copy of Harry Potter and the Sorcerer’s Stone. “Whoa,” he said.
He’s a voracious reader, and he often grabs books that are geared toward older kids. I haven’t stopped him because, as a librarian friend told me, if things get too hard or too scary, kids tend to stop themselves. I often make him promise in the case of books like Phantom Toll Booth, where more layers of meaning come clearer with age, that he’ll read the books again when he’s older. (With Harry Potter, that was the easiest promise he’s ever made; he read it again when he was a few months older than the first time, and again when he was a few months older than that.)
My son’s done a lot of reading on his own where he hasn’t passed the book my way. He didn’t ask me to read any of the Boba Fett series, for instance, so I knew right away that My Father’s Dragon was different. He read the first book in the series during language arts, and then asked if we could go to the library to get the other two. The first book was a Newbery Honor book when it was released back in 1948, so it’s made for an interesting read it this week, when the Newbery medals are being doled out. Believe me, it’s nothing like When You Reach Me or any of the books that have won medals for the past few decades. It’s an old-fashioned book with an old-fashioned feel. And it’s short — in the version I’m reading, the first book of the series is 81 pages, including maps, illustrations, large-ish type and the title page.
My one criticism would be the frequent use of “my father” for the main character, Elmer Elevator. You want to see Elmer as a kid (he is one, after all). But the constant use of “my father” makes him sound older and harder to relate to. I pointed this out to my son, who hadn’t been bothered, but we talked a little about why Harry Potter is more appealing as an 11-year-old boy than if he were in his 40s and trying to control his cholesterol. In the other dragon books, Ruth Stiles Gannett shifts to using the name “Elmer,” so perhaps she agreed.
But I’m not looking to review this book or to find any fault in it: I’m determined to see in it what my son does, which is the silliness of the gum-chewing tigers in an adventure that never feels unsafe. My son’s favorite part is when the alligators float down the river, each with a different animal on his back, and when the mouse wumbles up his jords — I mean jumbles up his words! Even thinking about it cracks him up, which is one of the joys, I think, of age-appropriate reading.
What fantastic books! I hold very fond memories of My Father’s Dragon and Encyclopedia Brown. Happy reading!
So glad to hear about your son’s enthusiasm for reading! And that he likes to read with you as well as on his own. AND that he’s excited about what he’s getting in his language arts class. All good things!
My childhood in the library meant coming up with huge stacks of books, which I would then devour. My mother always insisted that I include some biographies, while I preferred fiction. I’m glad I read the biographies, of course, but now as a mother, I’m faced with the same issue — how much do I impose my taste and preferences upon my children?
We all liked My Father’s Dragon when we read it together a couple years ago, BTW.
I talked to Wendy about this after she posted her comment and then remembered that a blog is supposed to be someplace where you continue a conversation. So here’s a little rehash: But I hadn’t ever given a lot of thought about not having those childhood favorites to pass on, or what it would have been like for me to enter a library and discover everything myself. I did plenty of discovering, don’t get me wrong. But I know I was also gently nudged toward certain authors (Beverly Cleary, for instance.) Judy Blue wasn’t around when my mom was a kid, but she knew exactly when to grab “Are You There God, It’s Me Margaret?” and put it in my hands. Actually, I don’t remember so much about how I ended up with what book. I’ll have to ask my mom and see if she wants to do a guest post. Meanwhile, if anyone else wants to comment on what their childhood in the library was like, please, please do!!
My parents, being immigrants, did not pass on childhood favorites, so this is one of those books I discovered right along with my children (technically speaking, my son found it first when his kindergarten teacher read it to the class). I just bought Three Tales of My Father’s Dragon for my dragon-loving niece at Christmas – is there anything better than knowing you have just the right book for a child?
Oooh! I love My Father’s Dragon! Well, actually, it’s a favorite of my children and so became a favorite of mine. Our library has an excellent audio version. Yes, my kids enjoyed the alligator part, too.