A Review: Once I Ate a Pie

Image from GoodReads.com

A Book Review of:

Once I Ate Pie, by Patricia MacLachlan and Emily MacLachlan Charest
Illustrated by Katy Schneider


Awards:
ALA's Notable Books for Children Award Winner
Beehive Children's Poetry Book Award
Virginia's Readers' Choice Award (WOOT!)
Young Hoosier Book Award

Summary:

This book of poetry tells the story of 13 dogs from their own perspectives-- of their misbehavior, their loyalties, and what they really like to do all day. From the puppy on the first page who admits he's afraid of the big world for now, to Mr. Beefy, a giant pub who admits, "Once I ate a pie," and to the end, where the now grown up puppy (from the first poem), to Wupsi who loves how cute he is, to Abby, who chews everything in sight, and others in between, we finally end with Luke, who is actually the now-grown puppy from the first pages. This book of short poems is for dog lovers everywhere who can see a little bit of their pets in each of these lovable characters.

Machlachlan, P., & Charest, E.M. (2006). Once I ate a pie. New York, NY: Joanna Cotler Books.

Impressions: 

This book is a hilarious way to get inside a dog's head. Using wonderful imagery and a great use of diction and word arrangement, MacLachlan and her daughter bring to life 13 dogs, some mischievous, some good. The words on the page, especially the shape and size of the words, reflect the words themselves. For example, for Pocket's poem (a small dog who thinks he's BIG), the word "tiny" is shown in small text, and the last line, "I am HUGE" is written in large font. Abby, a dog who runs off with things--slippers, socks, meat off a plate, and anything in a bowl, has words displayed all over, in arcs across the page, with big and small text intermixed. This gives you the feeling of the mess Abby makes in her house. Aside from the beautiful words, Katy Schneider's beautiful illustrations are funny, expressive, and capture the dogs perfectly. They are a perfect match to the text, and the combination of all of these things make this book a real treat.

Poetry 101: The Ode

For today's poetry lesson, I thought we'd cover the ode.

First off, here's how Google defines "ode": 

ode

noun /ōd/ 
odes, plural

A lyric poem in the form of an address to a particular subject, often elevated in style or manner and written in varied or irregular meter


A poem meant to be sung

Odes actually originated in Greece as lyric poetry, and were performed out loud accompanied by music (often on the lyre, hence the word "lyrical"). They were often written to honor specific subjects or people, and could often be lighthearted in nature. I could, of course, list a poem by the Greek poet Pindar, or the Latin poet Horace, but I think they wouldn't quite relate the way that Pablo Neruda does.

Pablo Neruda is a powerful Chilean poet who is really well known for his odes.  He's great at taking ordinary, everyday things, and writing beautiful poetry in their honor. He is the one who truly introduced me to odes, and made me appreciate their power to make a big deal out of even mundane things.

For this post, I thought I would feature one of my favorite things about summer: tomatoes. In high school, I remember being particularly struck by his description of the tomato in all its glory. On top of that, I was taking Spanish at the time, and it's enormously fun to read it in the language it was written in even if you can't understand any or all of the words. Reading it out loud, regardless of how funny you think you'll sound, really does Neruda justice. So I've posted it here in both languages. Buen provecho [ = bon appetit] !

Oda al Tomate

by Pablo Neruda

---

La calle
se llenó de tomates,
mediodia,
verano,
la luz
se parte
en dos
mitades
de tomate,
corre
por las calles
el jugo.
En diciembre
se desata
el tomate,
invade
las cocinas,
entra por los almuerzos,
se sienta
reposado
en los aparadores,
entre los vasos,
las matequilleras,
los saleros azules.
Tiene
luz propia,
majestad benigna.
Devemos, por desgracia,
asesinarlo:
se hunde
el cuchillo
en su pulpa viviente,
es una roja
viscera,
un sol
fresco,
profundo,
inagotable,
llena las ensaladas
de Chile,
se casa alegremente
con la clara cebolla,
y para celebrarlo
se deja
caer
aceite,
hijo
esencial del olivo,
sobre sus hemisferios entreabiertos,
agrega
la pimienta
su fragancia,
la sal su magnetismo:
son las bodas
del día
el perejil
levanta
banderines,
las papas
hierven vigorosamente,
el asado
golpea
con su aroma
en la puerta,
es hora!
vamos!
y sobre
la mesa, en la cintura
del verano,
el tomate,
aastro de tierra,
estrella
repetida
y fecunda,
nos muestra
sus circunvoluciones,
sus canales,
la insigne plenitud
y la abundancia
sin hueso,
sin coraza,
sin escamas ni espinas,
nos entrega
el regalo
de su color fogoso
y la totalidad de su frescura.

Ode to Tomatoes

---

The street
filled with tomatoes
midday,
summer,
light is
halved
like
a
tomato,
its juice
runs
through the streets.
In December,
unabated,
the tomato
invades
the kitchen,
it enters at lunchtime,
takes
its ease
on countertops,
among glasses,
butter dishes,
blue saltcellars.
It sheds
its own light,
benign majesty.
Unfortunately, we must
murder it:
the knife
sinks
into living flesh,
red
viscera,
a cool
sun,
profound,
inexhausible,
populates the salads
of Chile,
happily, it is wed
to the clear onion,
and to celebrate the union
we
pour
oil,
essential
child of the olive,
onto its halved hemispheres,
pepper
adds
its fragrance,
salt, its magnetism;
it is the wedding
of the day,
parsley
hoists
its flag,
potatoes
bubble vigorously,
the aroma
of the roast
knocks
at the door,
it's time!
come on!
and, on
the table, at the midpoint
of summer,
the tomato,
star of earth,
recurrent
and fertile
star,
displays
its convolutions,
its canals,
its remarkable amplitude
and abundance,
no pit,
no husk,
no leaves or thorns,
the tomato offers
its gift
of fiery color
and cool completeness.

This poem is from:

Neruda, Pablo. 1990. Selected odes of Pablo Neruda. Berkeley, CA: University of California Press. Translated by Margaret Sayers Peden.

Poetry 101: The Nonsense of the Jabberwocky

So, it was National Poetry Month in the month of April, and though I dropped the ball on sharing this within the month of April, I have decided to redeem myself today, and share with you my all-time favorite poem. Unlike sharing my favorite book (which is absolutely impossible for me to really do), I will have to say that this is hands down, my FAVORITE poem. There is something so awesome about a poem which shouldn't make sense, yet it manages nonetheless with completely invented words. It's nonsensical, and that's just what I love about it. It's fun to say, it's fun to write. [In high school, I actually memorized this and found myself writing it in cursive in my notebook when I got bored in class. I know, DWEEB. But still, it's that good.]

In my 10th grade mythology class, my teacher Mr. Scheu gave us an assignment after we read this which I thought was genius. We had to create an epic poem which included invented words that you could understand the meaning of, and which still sounded sorta like words. This sounds hard, but really, if you just combine two words together, you can make a sort of hybrid word that takes on the meaning of both words. Lewis Carroll makes use of this in the Jabberwocky, like gallumphing might be a combination of galloping and harumphing (which Dictionary.com does not recognize, but Wiktionary does, as: an expression of disdain, disbelief, protest, refusal, or dismissal).  So, a lot of the words in Carroll's "Jabberwocky" I'm not sure you can do this with-- I mean, look at them. But it's still fun to give it a shot.

So here it is, my favorite. You can love it or hate it, but feel free to share your opinion-- and your own favorite poem! And if you're feeling really brald (brave and bold!) then you might even write your own nonsensical epic poem.

Jabberwocky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

          -- Lewis Carroll

Poetry 101: The Villanelle

I was inspired to do a Poems 101 spotlight on my blog by a presentation given at a library meeting by branch manager Wendy Saz from the Crozet Library about April's 'Poem in Your Pocket Day,' a day when they get the rights to print many different poems, roll them up, and tie them with a ribbon, like a tiny scroll.

On April 30th, these poems were distributed throughout the JMRL system libraries, but also at hospitals, senior centers, and right on the Downtown Mall in Charlottesville. The idea that poetry isn't widely read anymore, but that it still can make a big impact on people's lives really resonated with me. The scrolls were handed out in Hopice and in the emergency room at Martha Jefferson Hospital, and were very well received.

Every month, I will try to feature a poem, or a poetic form-- just to keep it in your mind. And don't forget that every April is designated National Poetry Month!

This month's featured poem is the villanelle, which gets little to no notice when studying poems in school. It's a repetitive form that is really quite pretty, and also very much fun to write!


So what is a villanelle, exactly?

• The villanelle is a poem of 19 lines-- it consists of 5 stanzas of three lines each, with a final (6th) stanza of four lines.  
• Here's where it sounds confusing (but the example will clear it up)-- the first line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the 2nd and 4th stanzas. And to add to the mayhem, the third  line of the first stanza is repeated as the last line of the 3rd and 5th stanzas.
• Do you think you have that? Add to these rules that the rhyme scheme is aba, and you'll have the makings of a villanelle! Due to the repeating scheme, there are really only 2 end rhyme sounds throughout the whole poem.

This example will hit it home for you:

"One Art" by Elizabeth Bishop

1     The art of losing isn't hard to master;                   a

2     so many things seem filled with the intent             b

3     to be lost that their loss is no disaster.                   a

      Lose something every day. Accept the fluster        a

      of lost door keys, the hour badly spent.                 b

1    The art of losing isn't hard to master.                    a

     Then practice losing farther, losing faster:             a

     places, and names and where it was you meant     b

3   to travel. None of these will bring disaster.            a

     I lost my mother's watch. And look! my last, or    a

     next-to-last, of three loved houses went.               b

1   The art of losing isn't hard to master.                    a

     I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,            a

     some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.      b

3   I miss them, but it wasn't a disaster.                    a

     --Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture     a

     I love) I shan't have lied. It's evident                  b

1    the art of losing's not too hard to master             a

3   though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.    a

 

The lines on the left side of the poem indicate the lines that are repeated, to make it a little easier to understand. The letters on the side show the rhyme scheme. It makes a lot more sense when it's written out this way. 

I hope that I showed you a new type of poem, and maybe that you'll be encouraged to write your own. It doesn't need to be deeply meaningful. Make it fun, or make it somber, but whatever you do, make it your own! I wrote one about how I love my feet-- so clearly seriousness is not an issue.

Resources: 

Strand, Mark and Eavan Boland, eds. (2000). The Making of a Poem: A Norton Anthology of Poetic Forms.  New York: W.W. Norton & Company.