The March Roundup

Hey guys!! Today - errr, tonight rather - I once again put before you my humble reading list from the past month. I'm sorry that it's coming at you late, as usual. I've been (and still am) abominably sick the past week, and haven't been thinking about posting a bit, quite honestly. It's a wonder this post is here at all. But I did have the mental concentration to start NaPoWriMo on the right day.(namely, yesterday) It's the same as NaNoWriMo, for those of you more familiar with that, except it requires you to write one poem every day, rather than a 50,000 word novel in 30 days. Now I am probably the worst poet in the world, which means none of those poems will ever make it to this blog. But, I did feel like it was good practice, and writing verse often puts me into the right sort of pensive mood for writing. So I said to myself, "Why not?" Also Caitlyn's doing it, and she's posting her work, so check it out!! She's already a fairly established poet, and much, much, MUCH better at it than I.

Anyways, I read surprisingly fewer books this month than I have the two previous months, so it was by a very small margin that I actually stayed on course for the rest of the year. And the books? Here they are.



Time Bomb, by Nigel Hinton.
This was a rather intense read for a children's book, but a good one. The book's protagonist, Andy, starts the first chapter with the words "I've never told this story to anyone because when I was twelve I swore an oath in blood to never tell it." It's a gritty read, full of the grim and rawness of London. It's the story of four boys, who learn, in their own words, the true gravity of  the "sin of omission." It teaches them, and reminds us, that heroes are not always what they claim to be, and even the lowest man is a king in his own mind.

The Merchant of Venice, by William Shakespeare.
Yes, I know, more Shakespeare. And I must say, Merchant is doing everything in it's power to become my favourite Shakespeare comedy. It's nearly tied with Much Ado About Nothing.
  But what struck me the most about this play is its characters. When reading it, you get the impression that Shakespeare was actually trying to create stereotypical characters, but utterly failed to do so. Even Shylock, the rich, miserly Jew has a beautiful depth of character to him. It showcases the genius of Shakespeare in nearly all its forms. A marvelous read.

The Twin in the Tavern, by Barbara Brooks Wallace.
This was, from start to finish, an adorable read. The orphaned protagonist, Taddy, is from the start a lovable character, as is Beetle, the street-urchin-turned-child-servant he meets along the way. The story takes a few twists and turns, with a satisfying ending. I know many others in my family will want to read this, just as I did. (Thank you Ashley for the suggestion, and most of all, the lending of this book;)

Stella Stands Alone, by A. LaFaye
A worthy addition to the name of alternative-historical fiction. the book features 14-year-old Stella Reid and her struggle to keep her father's plantation after both her parents' death. The novel asks the question, "What would the Post-Civil War have been like if plantation owners had looked upon their former slaves, not as property, but as equals?" A compelling question indeed, and LaFaye fully fleshes it out. A little slow at the beginning, but it was worth sticking through to the end.

Shakespeare: The Biography, by Peter Ackroyd.
Don't even get me started on Ackroyd. I was first introduced to his genius when one of my dear friends was visiting me in the hospital last June, after an untimely surgery. She left with me a giant (and when I say giant, we're talking 900 pages) book, Ackroyd's Biography of London. It was not until some time later that I actually picked up the book, but when I did, it left me enraptured. Ackroyd, in my mind, is worthy of a pedestal among the greatest writers of the English-speaking world, right up with his subject in this biography, William Shakespeare himself. His prose is lucid and flowing, and it half-convinces you that you are actually reading poetry. He somehow seems to always have the perfect word, and yet he never writes in a painful, arrogant way, as if he were flaunting his knowledge, but it is gloriously accessible. This book was a true treasure. One of my great heroes of the writing world studying another's life. It was a treat from start to finish. It was one I found myself wish would never end.

Birth Cry, by Shirley Roland Ferguson.
The remarkable true story of Hannah Mitchell, one of few who would be known as the 'nurses on horseback' in the wilderness of the Appalachian Mountains. This book has a very special place in my heart, because I grew up hearing about "Miss Hannah" from my grandmother, who was one of her close friends later in her life. Some of my most precious books were given to my grandmother by Hannah, who then passed them down to me.
   This story is full of adventure, humor, and pain, a tale as remarkable as the woman who lived it. I would recommend it to everyone without hesitation, with the promise that it will captivate you with every page.

Macbeth, by William Shakespeare.
Funny story: I went into the living room of our house one evening, where everyone was occupied doing his or her thing. I said, knowing no one would hear me, "Does anyone want to come read Macbeth with me?" 3-year-old Lydia raised her hand without hesitation. I laughed, knowing that she wouldn't understand anything, but allowed her to come into my room. I told her that first I would read some, then it would be her turn. She hastily agreed. After reading aloud the lengthy Dramatis Personae, I handed the volume to her. A confused look came over her face and she said, "I can't read." I smiled, and suddenly, she came up with a solution. "I know! I'll make up the words!" I encouraged her to do so, and she started off. "Dear Lord Jesus.." she intoned, and I swiftly reminded her that reading a Shakespearean tragedy is much, much different than praying. She soon got bored and left.

Lighthouse and New Moon Rising by Eugenia Price.
Two of a trilogy of books, set in the beautiful wildness of 1800s St. Simon's Island, GA. Partly based on real history, these books are twice as enjoyable for anyone who has had the pleasure of visiting the Island.

The Same Stuff as Stars, by Katherine Paterson.
You may recognize her more for her novel, Bridge to Terabitha, which I can still not contemplate without a bit of moisture in my eyes. She brings the same emotion to this book, the story of a young Angel Morgan, whose father is in prison and whose mother abandoned her and her 7-year-old brother, Bernie. Angel is a remarkable female protagonist, plucky and persevering, wishing most of all for a bright future for those around her. She is a character I would want my future daughters to know well.

Growing Up Duggar, by Jana, Jill, Jessa, and Jinger Duggar.
I read this book mostly in the hospital with my mom, who just had a baby. A cheerful, if not interesting look into TLC's most popular family, the Duggars.

The Castafiore Emerald, Flight 714 to Sydney, and Tintin and the Picaros, by Herge.
I've decided that there comes an age at which it is once more acceptable to read comics. I decided to bridge the gap between that age and childhood, and never stop reading them in the first place.

Zia, by Scott O'Dell.
What first interested me in this story was O'dell's style, but I stayed for his story. The sequel to the better known Island of the Blue Dolphins, this is the story of a young Indian girl in the late 16th century, whose greatest desire is to find her aunt, the elusive Karana, (whose story is told in the previous novel) who lives in isolation on the coast of California.

Persuasion, by Jane Austen.
My mom has encouraged me to read this for years, it being her favourite Austen novel. When I finally got around to it, I could wholeheartedly sympathize. It takes its time beginning, but is full of drama when it does, to the very last page. Well done, Jane.

The Chronicles of Narnia, by C.S. Lewis.
Yes. All of them.
Actually, I just read these in the past week. There's not much to do when one is sick.
Like any well-loved classic, these books can be read again and again, with the same pleasure of the original reading. I was delighted to be reunited with my all-time favourite, The Silver Chair, but found that I was enjoying myself immensely while immersed in my previous least-favourite, The Horse and His Boy. I love the Walden movies,(with the possible exception of Prince Caspian, which seemed more like a ploy to make money) and eagerly await to see what they will do with future productions, headed up by the anticipated fan-favourite, The Magician's Nephew.


Well, that's it! what was your favourite book that you read this month? Tell me in the comments=)
Until next time, I am, and forever will be, the devoted



~Margaret