A Book Review: TumTum & Nutmeg by Emily Bearn
Title: TumTum & Nutmeg
Author: Emily Bearn
Available from Egmont
Genre: Children’s fiction
180 pages from Adventures Beyond Nutmouse Hall by Little, Brown
Please visit: http://www.tumtumandnutmeg.co.uk/index.htm
In the broom cupboard of a small dwelling called Rose Cottage, stands a house fit for a mouse – well, two mice actually. A house made of pebblestone, with gables on the windows and turrets peeking out of the roof. A house with a ballroom, a billiard room, a banqueting room, a butler’s room and a drawing room. The house belongs to Mr and Mrs Nutmouse, or Tumtum and Nutmeg as they affectionately call each other.
Tumtum and Nutmeg have a wonderful life but the children who live in Rose Cottage, Arthur and Lucy, are miserable. So, one day Tumtum and Nutmeg decide to cheer them up…
Tumtum repairs the electric heater in the attic where the children sleep and Nutmeg darns the children’s clothes. Arthur and Lucy are delighted and think a Fairy of Sorts is looking after them.
But then Aunt Ivy with her green eyelids and long, elasticey arms arrives. She hates mice and hatches a plan to get rid of them. Soon Tumtum and Nutmeg are no longer safe to venture out…
Tumtum and Nutmeg is a miniature masterpiece that will be loved by generations to come.– Summary by Egmont
I picked up TumTum & Nutmeg: Adventures Beyond Nutmouse Hall at Half Price Books in Humble, TX a few months back, with the intention of reading the stories to my daughter one day. I had never heard of them, but the front cover looked delightful and reminded me of the childhood days I spent pouring over The Borrowers by Mary Norton.
My daughter just turned one this last month and tired of re-reading every Eric Carle and Marcus Pfister book we own, I decided to see if she could sit through a few pages of Emily Bearn. I thought, maybe we can at least make it to the first illustration.
Low and behold, we were both captivated. I read until she fell asleep, and despite this book being written for very small children, I found I couldn’t put it down and wanted to know what would happen next. I was five years old again, huddled up in a quilt, lost in a world of a little family living in the nooks and crannies of an old house.
TumTum & Nutmeg is wonderful. It is precious in its descriptions and histories, the story is sweet and adventurous, enriching and exciting. I cannot wait to read the additional stories in the compilation and with sheer joy anticipate re-reading this story to my daughter when she is old enough to follow the story and not just my voice. This should be a part of every child’s library.
Exposure is Everything
My whole life I have been enthralled by the world of books. As a child, I was an avid reader the school librarian could not keep appeased. I lived in the worlds of Laura Ingalls, L.M. Montgomery, Louisa May Alcott, Charles Dickens, C.S. Lewis, Tolkien, and more. Although I went to college to study business, as soon as I was out I sought a position in a bookstore; my dream was to run the literature section, and I did. I worked there for some years, fully stocked up my home collection, became the inventory manager, but then had a baby and so left the company.
We have 17 overflowing bookshelves in our house and books stacked on every available end table in between. I have been gathering up children’s titles throughout my pregnancy until now for my daughter, preparing for a lust of the written word comparable to mine.
People keep warning me that she may not want to read, she may not like it like I do. They keep telling me I cannot force my child to enjoy my hobbies.
I am not forcing her. I am making the written word available. She sees books everywhere, she sees people enjoying books everywhere. In addition to our own collection that we read from every day, we visit the public library for group readings and she sees people outside her family unit gathering to enjoy a book.
My daughter is one year old, and already she often chooses Eric Carle over a stuffed animal. She brings me Rainbow Fish and expects me to read it aloud while she sorts her blocks. It seems sometimes as though she is not actually listening, just sorting her belongings, until I stop reading and she looks up and points at the book. My daughter sorts through her picture books and flips through the pages, she even has her own little cushioned rocking chair she climbs into to do it. She rocks and pretends to read while I lounge and read in our library in our house.
My daughter loves books, and I am both amazed and proud. I implore the world to make books available to their children from a young age. Read aloud to them, they cannot help but be interested and thirsty for stories and knowledge.
Books to Movies to TV Shows
I’m a bibliophile – a crazed book junkie. But more than that, I’m a sucker for a good story. So, admittedly, when it comes down to it I can enjoy a well-crafted TV Show storyline just as easily as a classic like Ayn Rand’s The Fountainhead.
I grew up with the token line “read the book, its always better than the movie.” I lived and breathed this credo, I pushed it on others as a bookseller. Up until recently, I’d vow that it was complete and utter truth.
But has anyone noticed how crafty these TV Show writers have been getting? Look at Lost, the whole nation was hooked. And then all the over-rated vampire dramas… True Blood, I must say, was pretty fascinating. The book series counterpart by Charlainne Harris, uuuhhh, cute and funny – but not something that would keep me going back for more except for the fact that I can’t stand being that person that has watched the show or movie and not read all the books, being that person hurts my soul.
The whole phenomenon of liking the show better than the books threw me for a loop. I’m not that person – I always enjoy the books better. Look at The Scarlet Pimpernel: God only knows I adore Jane Seymour, but nothing compares to just reading it all for myself. Jane Austen renditions I could eat up day after day, but you’ll never get me to concede that I’d take any of the movie versions over the books ever. East of Eden, Nicholas Nickleby, Wuthering Heights, Harry Potter, my list of loves goes on and on, and as fabulous as some of the movie versions get they just can never compete with the books.
Until lately. I saw White Oleander and despite its major differences from Janet Fitch’s original work, I loved it, and will re-watch the movie long before I’ll re-read the written format. Girl Interrupted… I adore Susanna Keysen, but man, Angelina Joli and Winona Ryder did such an awesome job, I was riveted. And finally, to my shame, I have a closet addiction to the TV Show The Vampire Diaries. Its lame, I know, the whole ‘I’m in highschool and I’m doomed to love this vampire from first sight’ business is such a racket and mostly I hate it. (The Twilight book series stressed me out beyond belief, I didn’t really care for it although it was entertaining – but overall, pretty awful.) Yet, here I was this week, hooked on the Vampire Diaries (thanks to Netflix) and I thought: The books are bound to be even better, after all they are books.
So, I bought the first two. I’m reading them. I’m HATING them. How did a TV Show screen writer write such riveting stuff based on a book that is not remotely riveting at all? The books are so young, and in comparison the show is so much older. The Elena of the book is so shallow and a huge jerk so far, completely obsessed with herself and her status, and the Elena of the show is actually a bit lovable with the makings of a heroine.
I ask my fellow book readers: How has this happened? Has book quality gone down so low? Has the technology and budgeting of the movie and television industry risen so high to make a lame storyline become something fascinating with visual stimulation? Is it a combination of the two? Does any other book lovers find themselves in this hypocritical dilemma? I love my books. I love discovering the latest Simon Winchester, I love diving into ancient classics, I love studying history and researching ideas and philosophies of the past, I even love my bubble bath reads (the books I call cotton candy for the mind and soul). And sometimes, I find myself loving the movies and shows just a tad bit better.
The Forgotten Garden, an Overlooked Book
Over and over again, I saw Kate Morton’s House at Riverton lurking on the general fiction shelves at Half Price Books. I never picked it up, the cover just wasn’t right. Book jackets are magical things. Between the author, the publishig company, brilliant marketing people, and the perception of the onlookers – a book jacket tells all. The House at Riverton just wasn’t telling me what I wanted to hear. Then one day, my boss waves The Forgotten Garden in front of my face. “This is amazing.” It looked amazing. The antique cream color, the ivy, the fairies, the magical nostalgia of a Frances Hodgson Burnett novel… I desired it immediately. I was dumbstruck to realize it was the same author.
The Forgotten Garden is beautiful. Twins, secrets, best friends, a family saga, England, Australian, painters, storytellers, an authoress, spooky deaths… It was the perfect mood follow up to The Thirteenth Tale. It was an amazing read. It took me too long to discover it due to the terrible marketing of the author’s previous book. Thank God, the publisher’s finally gave Morton’s writing her book cover art due.
If you are wondering, I have broken protocol and abandoned my book cover instincts for the sake of reading Morton’s previous work – I bought The House at Riverton and its horrible cover. I plan to read it around Christmas, a review to follow. Her third book, Th Distant Hour is scheduled for me to read Spring 2012.
The Thirteenth (Perfect) Tale
The very first morning I walked into Half Price Books as an employee, it was a cool April. I was wearing my favorite olive green sweater, the sleeves curled just perfectly around my fidgety fingers; too excited to be stilled they fondled the woven material with angst. My boss was giving me the grand tour, and that’s when I saw it for the first time – the name Audrey Niffenegger. It was a hardback copy of The Time Traveler’s Wife, it had shoes on the cover, one large men’s pair, one small little girl’s pair. That’s what drew me to her work first. By the next day, I had devoured the book.
Later, she came out with Her Fearful Symmetry, which I loved even more. I am addicted to Niffenegger’s strange, yet perfect stories, her intense writing is something to be reckoned with. The feeling you can’t let go of once the book has ended is something like no other.
Several years later, still working at Half Price and in charge of the fiction/literature section, my safe haven, my heaven, my home away from home, a place at which I spent many happy hours of sweat and tears and occasional splinters, I stumbled across something new. It was a dark book, it caught my eye because the cover seemed to radiate the ambiance of ‘If you love books at all, you’ll love me.’ It was Carlos Ruiz Zafon’s Shadow of the Wind. He was compared to Umberto Eco and Gabriel Garcia Marquez on the jacket. I devoured it. Again, I was in love.
Those moments, now being properly relayed so that you may understand the depth of my love at first sight memories of these two author’s work can only help define how high a compliment it is for me to say: If Niffenegger’s Her Fearful Symmetry and Ruiz’s Shadow of the Wind were to have a love child, it would be Diane Setterfield’s The Thirteenth Tale.
The Thirteenth Tale moved me in a way I am only moved so rarely for someone who reads so often. Having worked now in a bookstore these past four and half years, I have become both desensitized and overly inspired by everything. Everything interests me with its prospects, the possibility of discovering magic within the pages of something new, as I have in the past. But most things slightly disappoint with their lack of fervor, their severe void of original thought, or the absence of a classic feel.
The Thirteenth Tale is missing nothing. It is rich, full, thorough; it is mysterious and ghostly, beautifully gothic. It is a perfectly woven tale. Vida Winter could quite possibly be my favorite heroine of all time.
The Thirteenth Tale for sale on Amazon.com: http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=anakawhims-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=0743298039
Time Traveler’s Wife for sale too: http://rcm.amazon.com/e/cm?lt1=_blank&bc1=000000&IS2=1&bg1=FFFFFF&fc1=000000&lc1=0000FF&t=anakawhims-20&o=1&p=8&l=as4&m=amazon&f=ifr&ref=ss_til&asins=0547119798
Crack in the Edge of the World
A Book Review
Simon Winchester never fails to fascinate and inform. When I picked up Crack in the Edge of the World, I was surprised to discover that the author I dearly remember for writing The Professor and the Madman (a history of the making of the Oxford English Dictionary) was also a geologist and highly knowledgeable in both language AND the science of rocks – what a foundation! This particular history on the great earthquake of San Fransisco met high expectations of Winchester’s talent compared to his previous work and I recommend this to anyone who likes history, science, or just plain good storytelling.
The Woodlanders
A quick blurb:
I’ve been up and down with The Woodlanders, mostly based on my mood. I loved it, it lulled, I hated it, and now with its final sentence I love it again. I am finding more and more that this is the sway of things with Hardy and me. His characters are so dynamic and unique and yet you find familiarity in each one every time you turn. He has nailed the human race time and time again, yet he is most known for his nature descriptions. I truly recommend every avid reader to enjoy at least one Hardy a year for literary sustenance.
Scentsy pairing: Shades of Green in the room you are sitting in, but keep Honey Peared Cider going in the adjacent room and let them subtly linger together.
The Duchess of Bloomsbury Street
A Review of Helene Hanff’s sequel to 84, Charing Cross Rd.
At the end of 84, Charing Cross Rd. when Helene’s correspondence with London bookseller Frank Doel seemingly came to an end – I cried. Now, in Duchess of Bloomsbury Street when Helene first sees Charing Cross Rd. with her own eyes – I cried again. Helene Hanff is simple, witty, clever, and utterly enjoyable every time she takes pen to paper. I enjoy romping through London with her and cannot wait to read what she has to say about life in America when I finally find myself a copy of Apple of My Eye. And, if I ever visit London, I hope I have even half as many wonderful people available like The Colonel and PB to escort me to all the best sites, and then maybe my trip could be almost as perfect.
The Perfect Smells for the Perfect Books
I’m in love with Scentsy products. So in love, I became a consultant, and I’m not typically a fan of pyramid schemes.
It has seriously enhanced my library experience in my household. I’ve got the perfect chair in my private home library, I sit down with a book and place the appropriate smell in my lovely little burner and suddenly the whole experience is that much better!
The Magellan burner is a great library decor choice, in my opinion. Hazelnut Latte is great for a coffeeshop feel. Honey Pear Cider goes great with Thomas Hardy and Shades of Green for traveling the world with Frances Mayes. Burn My Dear Watson while reading your favorite mystery in the evening or Coconut Lemongrass with a light summer beach read.
Right now my mornings have been complete with Cranberry Muffin and a George III biography by Christopher Hibbert.
Find your perfect pairing today… or perfect scent at least after you come home from your latest bookstore purchases!
Ghosts, Suffragettes, and Skirts, Oh My!
Although Rebecca Kent (also known as Kate Kingsbury or Doreen Roberts) is not English, her Bellehaven Finishing School is, as are all the household staff and students. Well to do Edwardian Brits send their daughters to the care of Meredith Llewellyn, a widowed headmistress who sees ghosts! Not just any ghosts, though, of course only ones that have been killed off before their time!
A sort of “Ghostwhisperer” (tv show starring Jennifer Love Hewitt portraying a woman who talks to ghosts and coerces them to go to the light) for lovers of period pieces and proper society and pesky suffragettes, Kent’s cozy mysteries are just the right medicine to hunker down with while recovering from a Spring cold, hayfever, and all those other things that come with the changing weather.
I’ve finished reading High Marks for Murder, am currently reading Finished Off, and cannot wait to begin Murder Has No Class. Although the series was cut off by the publishers trying to pinch pennies in this recession, the author has wrapped up some loose ends for us here on her website: http://www.doreenrobertshight.com/id4.html.
Anakalian Whims 