Showing posts with label Roald Dahl. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Roald Dahl. Show all posts

Wednesday, December 19, 2012

the bfg

I am pretty psyched that the kid and her third grade class are reading Roald Dahl's The BFG (which stands for The Big Friendly Giant). As funny as it is, it's also actually pretty sophisticated stuff, replete with Dahl's wonderful, playful language, like the giant's food, snozzcumbers (a sort of nasty cucumber) and his favorite beverage, frobscottle, which is sort of like soda pop, but with bubbles at the bottom of the bottle which cause the drinker to make noisy whizzpoppers, which speak for themselves.

The BFG has his own unique way of speaking, a humorous mish-mash of English. The kid likes the book so much that she has been reading it to me while we're in the car. There are themes of bullying and individuality and friendship and loneliness, but Dahl also addresses violence. In the chapter "Journey to Giant Country" the young human girl Sophie, who is quickly becoming the BFG's friend, is shocked that most giants (not the BFG, of course) eat humans. But the BFG gently explains to her that giants aren't so different from other creatures. Birds eat worms, cats eat birds, etc. He points out that humans are the only only animals that kill others of it own kind, humans.

As the BFG puts it, "Human beans is always killing human beans." It seems an oddly appropriate book to be reading at the moment.

Sophie and the BFG, illustration by Quentin Blake


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Monday, March 01, 2010

white rabbits, white rabbits, white rabbits


Today is March 1st - have you said your "white rabbits x3" for luck?

I pulled out The Annotated Alice the other night, as it seemed timely reading, March hares and all. In the preface author Martin Gardner talks about Rev. Charles Lutwidge Dodgson, or Lewis Carroll, as he is more commonly known, and how he would keep a record of good days:
Adopting the Roman symbol for a day of good fortune, he would write in his diary, "I mark this day with a white stone" whenever he felt it to be specially memorable.
Now what does that remind me of . . .

I've always liked the White Rabbit and could understand Alice's obsession with him—where is he off to in such a hurry? Monty Python's killer rabbit is also a personal fave ("That's no ordinary rabbit.")

I have to admit that I'm a little leery of the upcoming Alice movie. From the advertising it seems that they should have just cut to the chase and called it Tim Burton's The Mad Hatter. I respect both Tim Burton and Johnny Depp as artists, but the creepy make-up job that is Depp as the mad hatter—is it really necessary? What is wonderful about the original Alice is that the nonsense comes from the words. We'll see. I will definitely check it out, but I'm on guard. Their recent collaborations were very problematic for me. Sweeney Todd was interesting to watch for about a hour, but the repetitive throat slashing ultimately drowned out the very excellent singing efforts by the cast. Charlie and the Chocolate Factory was so creepy and weird it just totally missed the mark for me, not capturing Roald Dahl's book or even any of the magic of the 1971 Gene Wilder film. I have no desire to see either film ever again.

So, back to The Annotated Alice in the meantime. She's about to finally get through the door into the garden, I think . . .