Saturday, February 12, 2011

Comfort but not cold comfort

By Stella Gibbons
Penguin
400 pages

By Comrade Reviewer Overcoat

Those readers expecting another Cold Comfort Farm should stop right here. The nightingales lack the sly wit and imagination of Flora Poste, and one will certainly find nothing nasty in the woodshed here. More’s the pity. However, for lovers of light romance, who shun the tawdry covers and cheap paper of Harlequins and Silhouettes, and who would not be caught in a woodshed with Sweet Savage Love, Nightingale Wood fits the bill. It is tasteful, amusing, and lightly funny. Daughters and a daughter-in-law run around, struggling with their repressed bosoms at The Eagles grim family home of Mr. Withers and the women of the family. The Eagles and its gardens function as an architectural externalization of Mr. Withers, his utter lack of imagination coupled with his overweening need for control. In short dullness is the order of the day.  As Gibbons notes, 

It is difficult to make a dull garden, but old Mr. Wither had succeeded. . . . The result was a poorish lawn and a plaster rockery . . . a lot of boring shrubs. Mr. Wither also liked the garden to look tidy, and on a fine April morning he stood at the breakfast-room window thinking what a nuisance the daisies were. There were eleven of them out in the middle of the lawn. Saxon must be told to get them up.

In short, The Eagles under Mr. Wither’s watchful eyes is not the ideal place for two young daughters (ages 35 and 39) and one daughter-in-law and former shop girl (age 21) to contain their amorously heaving (yet repressed) bosoms.

But bosoms will heave no matter how dimly crotchety old fathers view such heaving. And . . . given the introduction of someone new, in this case Viola the shop girl cum daughter-in-law now widow, something is bound to happen. Chauffeurs and daughters, daughters and dogs, a daughter-in-law and a less-than principled Prince Charming, and Prince Charming’s brainy yet discontented cousin Hetty – where will it all end? Read the book and find out for yourself.

Monday, January 10, 2011

Reading this book may save your goat's life

By D. G. Pugh
Saunders/Elsevier
468 pages

By Comrade Reviewer Overcoat

Before you say, “But I don’t have a goat,” pause. Ruminate. You may not have a goat (yet), but consider the goats of thy neighbor. The same law enjoining you to tend to your neighbor's business and to be careful of his ass, also demands that you tend to his goats. Pause again before you say, “But my neighbor doesn't have goats.” If he doesn’t have goats now, he will (pet goating currently being a fashion statement).  And since you punctiliously discharge your duties to your neighbor's business, ass, and goats (present or future), you need to be prepared.  You cannot begin learning too early.

If you have been raised in the United States, chances are great (but ever-diminishing) that you have a number of misconceptions about goats that need clearing up.

Misconception 1: Goats smell.  Female goats do not smell at all except with their noses.  Male goats smell and smell with their noses unless of course they have been “wethered” (technical goatspeak for “castrated”).  In the presence of willing does (as the female goats are called), males perfume themselves.  This excites the does and leads felicitously to more goats ~150 days later. As for you if your nose is offended by the smell, cut it off.

Misconception 2: Goats are not nice.  False.  Goats are social creatures.  They enjoy talking to you and to each other.  Indeed, if your neighbor owns but one goat, you need to speak to said neighbor sternly. A lone goat will pine.  You do not want a pining goat living next door.  If you permit such a situation to continue, your conscience will trouble you for the rest of your life, and your failure to act may prohibit your passing to the place of your choice after death.

Misconception 3:  Goats will eat anything.  They will not.  They are browsers not grazers.  They nibble a bit here and there.  You cannot use them as lawnmowers.  Blessed are the goats that grazeth in the fields.

Misconception 4: Goats are tough.  Yes and no.  When goats feel well they feel quite well, but when they feel ill they often choose to die.  While it is not quite true that a sick goat is a dead goat, this statement corresponds closely enough to the truth to make reading this book vital. Physician heal thy neighbor’s goats. 

Again I can hear your complaints. “If my neighbor has goats,” you say, “let him heal them himself.”  Again pause and consider.  You neighbor may be at work, on vacation, kidnapped by aliens, or dead.  In which case you must behave like a good Samaritan or a girl/boy scout. 

You need to know what to feed the goat, what additional nutritional needs the goat has, what to do in case the goat gets scours (technical goatspeak for diarrhea), and how to deliver kids (technical goatspeak for baby goats).  In case your neighbor's goat hangs out with sheep, you need to know that while the goat enjoys copper, the amount needed by the goat will kill the sheep. Too much copper and the sheep keels over never to rise again.

Finally, you need to know the meaning of really big words like theriogenology, auriculopalpebral nerve block, and pseudorinderpest so you will not embarrass yourself and others at parties.  As I do not wish to spoil the book for you, I will not define these words here.  D. G. Pugh’s book Sheep and Goat Medicine will answer any questions you may have about total goat care. It will also answer the same questions about sheep, but this review addresses only the goat question. Buy this book today. Do not delay.  Remember goats are like grapes in the wilderness and will bring you joy like ripe figs (unless the goats get to the figs first).

Thursday, January 6, 2011

Arm-wrestling aunts and wicked captains

By Russell Hoban
Illustrated by Quentin Blake
Godine
32 pages

By Comrade Reviewer Marienka

All of us have had an Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strong in our lives—the kind of aunt who, when we were little, made us eat “cabbage-potato-sog” and “learn off pages 65 to 75 of the Nautical Almanac” so we wouldn’t “fool around so much.”  Fooling around looked suspiciously like playing to the Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strongs in our lives; and if there was one thing such aunts couldn’t abide, it was playing.  If we didn’t behave, our Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strongs sent for Captain Najork and his hired sportsmen “who taught fooling around boys [and girls] the lesson they so badly need[ed]” . . . the dangers of fooling around. Some of us have never recovered from the trauma of an Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strong. And some of us still have one hanging around, spoiling our parties, raining on our parades, and dispensing advice we don’t want.  In our adult years, these aunts go by the name of Great Aunt Martha. They are our crosses to bear because we did not learn, indeed never have learned, to stop fooling around. As P.G. Wodehouse once said, “Aunts aren’t gentlemen.” You need to be Tom to triumph.

Those of us who are lucky are intrepid children who don’t stop fooling around and who never learn our lessons and who are never sorry we haven’t. All of us aspire to be Toms, but most of us wimp out. We simply don’t have what it takes to invent an anti-sticky, jam-powered frog or beat Captain Najork and his hired sportsman at games of “womble, muck, and sneedball.”  We need help to best the Aunt Fidget Wonkham-Strongs, Captain Najorks and the  infamous bands of hired sportsmen.
By Russell Hoban
Illustrated by Quentin Blake
Godine 
32 pages


Enter Russell Hoban to the rescue.  In two easy books—How Tom Beat Captain Najork and His Hired Sportsmen and A Near Thing for Captain Najork—Hoban shows us how to show those arm-wrestling aunts what’s what.  Despite his scheming aunt's efforts, Tom triumphs over Aunt Fidget-Wonkham-Strong and the nefarious Captain Najork (and his hired sportsmen) every time. And in the end there’s always Aunt Bundlejoy Cosysweet, who has never stopped fooling around either and who is not sorry she hasn’t.


Ages 4 to 95 (or 110)