Where are the Snowy Owls of Yesteryear?
In my first Children's Fiction class of the year I always ask the students to talk about a book that was important to them in childhood. This time, for the first time in a dozen years, not one of the 18 mentioned Harry Potter. The HP generation appears to have passed. No one sat a-tremble on the eve of their 11th birthday to see if an owl would bring them the anticipated letter to Hogwarts. (They ought of course have been waiting to discover whether they were an Old One, which is much cooler.)
There was only one mention each of Dahl (The BFG) and Blyton, specifically Malory Towers. Jacqueline Wilson held up well, though, breasting the tape with Percy the Park Keeper.
There was only one mention each of Dahl (The BFG) and Blyton, specifically Malory Towers. Jacqueline Wilson held up well, though, breasting the tape with Percy the Park Keeper.
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Where are the seats at the feast? Where are the revels in the hall?
How that time has passed away,
grown dark under cover of night, as if it had never been.
Which reminds me of The Wanderer's Lament for a Cooked Breakfast
Where is the egg gone? Where is the bacon?
Where is the sausage that was sizzling?
Where are the beans and the fried potatoes?
Where is the slice of fried bread?
Alas for the greasy frying pan!
Alas for the cooker of sausages!
Alas for the well-laden breakfast table!
Now that time has passed away,
Dark under the cover of night
As if it had never been!
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(I'm rather proud of it).
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My students are past the Harry Potter generation too. It's all Hunger Games right now, I think.
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If asked when I was 18, though, I'd probably have named The Hobbit, as the most influential book on my life.
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I have trouble answering that question in the singular. I posted at inordinate length about it in 2006. And still forgot to include Eleanor Cameron's Mr. Bass's Planetoid (1958)!
(They ought of course have been waiting to discover whether they were an Old One, which is much cooler.)
My parents gave me The Dark Is Rising for my eleventh birthday.
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I admire them!
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Honestly I'm fairly certain I read Narnia before HP OR TDIR, but would choose Merriman over Aslan.
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Man, I still vividly remember when one of my best friends, exactly half a year older than I, turned 11 and I was just so jealous. That having been said, I have to agree with
I realized I didn't really believe in magic when I read High Wizardry at 11 (Dairine, of course, was also 11 when she became a wizard) and got to the part about "beating her fists against the walls of life, knowing that there's more, more," and I realized I'd felt that way my entire life and that there wasn't actually more. Possibly given the choice I'd rather wish my 11-year-old-self to have been a Diane Duane wizard above either of the other options; it seems like the best compromise.