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Little Women

 I’d have a stable full of Arabian steeds, rooms piled with books, and I’d write out of a magic inkstand, so that my works should be as famous as Laurie’s music. I want to do something splendid before I go into my castle—something heroic, or wonderful—that won’t be forgotten after I’m dead. I don’t know what, but I’m on the watch for it, and mean to astonish you all, some day. I think I shall write books, and get rich and famous; that would suit me, so that is my favorite dream. (Jo March in "Little Women")

 

Each year at Christmas, I pull out my Little Women DVD (the version with Susan Sarandon and Wynona Ryder) and settle down for an evening of reacquaintance with Meg, Jo, Beth, Amy and Marmee. It's a personal tradition, and brings back many memories of the beloved little book I fell in love with years ago.

When I was 13, my grandfather presented me with a copy of Louisa May Alcott's Little Women. I  devoured the book within a week, then quickly proceeded to read Little Men, Jo's Boys, Under the Lilacs, Rose in Bloom, and every other book penned by Ms. Alcott that I could lay hands on, shortly thereafter.  Little Women has long remained my favorite. I adored the four March sisters and their loving 'Marmee', but I was drawn to identify with impatient, independent, headstrong Jo. I laughed at her follies, cried with her at the loss of her sweet Beth, felt her anguish as she mourned the failures of her character, pondered the lessons of the Pilgrim's Progress along with her, admired her pluck, courage and selflessness as she chopped off her beautiful chestnut mane to earn money for her mother's travel expenses, and cheered when she sold her first stories. I felt her keen sense of injustice when cantankerous Aunt March chose Amy, over Jo, as her traveling companion to Europe. My 13-year-old self was disappointed when Jo failed to return the romantic attentions of her handsome and wealthy young neighbor Laurie, but later understood Alcott's decision to wed her heroine to the considerably older, and decidedly less dashing, Professor Bhaer.

In an age where comportment and decorum were highly regarded and the roles of women clearly defined, Jo represented a break with the traditional view of the Victorian woman.She held a job, spoke (much to the chagrin of her sisters), in the slang used by the young men of her time, was a regular tomboy and longed to go fight alongside her father in the Civil War.

I hate to think I've got to grow up, and be Miss March, and wear long gowns, and look as prim as a China Aster! It's bad enough to be a girl, anyway, when I like boy's games and work and manners! I can't get over my disappointment in not being a boy. And it's worse than ever now, for I'm dying to go and fight with Papa. And I can only stay home and knit, like a poky old woman!

Little Women would leave an impression upon me. Like Jo, I dreamed of being a writer and went on to major in Journalism. Some years later, I'd marry into a Punjabi Indian family and would receive instruction in the importance of the appropriate dress, appearance and comportment of a new Indian bride from my inlaws, who wanted me to make a good impression on friends and family, as I accompanied them on various social calls. I openly rebelled against their advice and complained about the requisite social calls, remembering Jo's own aversion to "society":

She hated calls of the formal sort, and never made any till Amy compelled her with a bargain, bribe, or promise. In the present instance there was no escape, and having clashed her scissors rebelliously, while protesting that she smelled thunder, she gave in, put away her work, and taking up her hat and gloves with an air of resignation, told Amy the victim was ready.

Jo March, you are perverse enough to provoke a saint! You don't intend to make calls in that state, I hope,: cried Amy, surveying her with amazement.

Why not? I'm neat and cool and comfortable, quite proper for a dusty walk on a warm day. If people care more for my clothes than they do for me, I don't wish to see them. You can dress for both, and be as elegant as you please. It pays for you to be fine. It doesn't for me, and furbelows only worry me.

Jo's sentiments about clothing and dress echoed my own at the time. I didn't understand what all the fuss was about, and felt if people couldn't accept me for who I was, regardless of how I was dressed, I had no use for them. And Amy's response quite echoed my mother-in-law's, when I would announce that I had no desire or intention to change into the clothes she'd suggested.

Over the years, as my interest in art and design developed, I began to view the form and function of clothing a little differently, but I still recall fondly the simplicity and idealism of my 26-year-old self as a new bride, and see how Jo helped to inspire and shape the person I was. What stood out to me about Jo's character was her persistence and belief that women could do anything that men could.

Admittedly, there are passages in Little Women that would annoy the modern reader, certainly some that espouse old gender stereotypes and many that read as Puritanical and prude, but given the context in which the book was written, i.e., against the backdrop of the Victorian era, 19th century America, Little Women was ground-breaking literature for young women of the time, and Alcott influenced other writers of literature for girls, including Canadian author L.M. Montgomery who penned the Anne of Green Gables series, (another favorite).

Little Women remains a timeless classic. Once we get past the straight-laced, "goody-goody" passages, we can retain its valuable message. The sweet and simple lessons it imparted a little over a hundred years ago still hold true for us; that the things that matter most are those that cost the least - family, sisterhood, charity, character, humility, laughter, friendship, compassion, learning and love. And that as humans, we are constantly a work in progress; we make mistakes, we err and commit foibles that we later wish to  erase, but we go on to learn from them, always holding true to our values, and to who we are on the inside.

“Women work a good many miracles…”

Hoping you had a wonderful Christmas! 

In Praise of Libraries

Lately I've been seeing more and more about the dim future that awaits our country's libraries, and I worry about it. With the advent of e-books and advances in technology and communication, we should be seeing the face of the library as we know it, expanding to accommodate these new means of information access. Instead, I fear, we are witnessing the demise of one of the greatest public institutions of all time. This article, though brief, shares a quick snapshot of some of these concerns, which include publishers that refuse to sell e-books to libraries and major booksellers whose interests are not aligned with the preservation of libraries. Author Harry McCracken cites Carson Block of Carson Block Consulting as follows:

"Libraries, Block argued, aren't just book-loaning facilities. They're also about equal opportunity and community, and perhaps they should rebrand themselves as being about access, not books."

Citing apathy as a major threat to libraries, he goes on to argue that "we've always needed libraries; now more than ever, libraries need us". I couldn't agree with this statement more.

Looking back upon my childhood, I can attest to the profound effect that my local library had on me. I grew up in Springdale, OH., a Cincinnati suburb. The nearest library was in the adjacent city of Forest Park. I remember when I was old enough to sign my name and how thrilled I was, when I discovered that mastery of one's signature was all that was required to be awarded a library card! I still remember that first library card - it was manila yellow in color, and the librarian typed my name and address on the card, then had me sign at the bottom. I treasured that card and revered it, proudly extending it as if it was my personal calling card every time I checked out a book.

I remember that library as though I had set foot in it yesterday. A long, unlit tiled hallway opened into a glorious, well lighted carpeted space, filled throughout with books. Children's books were up three steps, then down another three to the right, in a space filled with beanbag chairs and low shelves for little hands to reach picture books. Walls were decorated with posters of illustrations from children's books, and if we were lucky, we could catch a librarian reading a story out loud to a captive group of wide-eyed children. I spent many happy hours there, and recall repeatedly checking out a book called "The Twelve Dancing Princesses", based on a fairy tale. The story itself was draw enough, but the real attraction was the incredible artwork that filled every page and brought the words and my imagination to life.Recently I found a more recent version of that book at my library, filled with equally lovely illustrations, and read it to Alekha at bedtime a few nights ago - she was enthralled with the story and begged me to read it again, and could I please renew it so she could keep it a little longer?

Fiction for older children was adjacent to this space, and just behind those were non-fiction books, where many a weekend was spent riffling through books on topics from outer space to submarines, farming to foreign countries and occupations to autobiographies, volumes of knowledge to assist me in producing the endless book reports that were assigned by teachers. 

Adult books, reference books and periodicals were located on the opposite side of the library. The entire space was humming with activity: small children were read to by young mothers, older children seated at tables worked diligently on book reports or homework, or in many cases socialized a little too loudly, until they were inevitably shushed by the librarian. Grown ups wandered about the adult sections, little old ladies with bags of knitting perused periodicals, elderly gentlemen spread open newspapers or played at chess. From time to time, there was an installation of modern artwork or perhaps children's art to grace the walls, and the occasional ice cream social or book sale drew the masses. The library offered cool comfort and a respite from the heat of the day in summer, and warmth and welcome to those suffering cabin fever in the winter. All felt a sense of belonging here. The door was not barred regardless of age, race, ethnicity, religion, or socioeconomic standing. Here, the haves and the have-nots converged, brought together by a common interest: the love of reading and community.

In the middle of this hive of activity, the librarians presided over the circular information desk, always kindly, peering at me over spectacles, ready to assist me with the many questions I had. Requests for a book were met with a lesson in how to utilize the card catalog. I was taken to the humble card catalog, predecessor of the modern search engine, where I was taught the Dewey Decimal system for the cataloging of books. I loved pulling open the sturdy oak drawers and riffling through the typed index cards to locate a needed book. Tiny pencil in hand, I'd jot the call number down before heading off in pursuit of the elusive book.

On weekends, we begged for a trip to the library. My mother always happily obliged, turning three little girls loose in the library while she went to seek out books of her own in the adult section. These little trips were much needed, anticipated and enjoyed in the most soul-satisfying way.

Summer was eagerly anticipated each year for the library's summer reading program for children, which the library called Remmus Gnidaer Margorp. Our childish belief that Mr. Remmus Gnidaer Margorp was a generous benefactor and patron of the library subsided when one of us figured out that "Remmus Gnidaer Margorp" was "Summer Reading Program" spelled backwards!) With eager anticipation, we filled up our reading sheets with each book we read, and jubilantly presented it to the librarian at the end of summer to collect our prizes for reading, usually a book bag filled with small assorted goodies, including a bookmark, a certificate of completion, a few stickers and an eraser or pencil, objects of insignificant value but proudly won in the eyes of a child.

I regard these experiences with a mix of nostalgia and fond affection, and attempt to recreate these experiences for my own child. While the library has changed considerably since I was a child, the ideals upon which libraries were founded have not. It is still one place where everyone, regardless of background, can access learning and books. I still feel the anticipation of finding a book I want to read, and am delighted to see the same excitement in my daughter's eyes as we set foot in the library and she runs off to the children's section on her quest for a book (or ten).

Our library boasts a wealth of programming: tea and holiday parties for children, toddler and family story times, musical groups, poetry shares, book clubs, book and bake sales, films, instuction for homework help, annual summer reading programs, the list goes on. Last year our library ended up on the ballot at voting time due to a cut in funding. We saw reductions in programming and in staffing. Through a visible and vocal campaign, our city passed the levy for increased funding to the library, much to my relief and the relief of others who have come to love and support our libraries.

And this is happening not just in our country, but globally as well. Nicky Wire of the Welsh Alternative Rock band Manic Street Preachers stated in an article for the Guardian:

It's hard not to feel utterly despondent at the current plight of public libraries. Along with the NHS and the BBC, our libraries are some of the few truly remarkable British institutions left. So often absolutely ordinary in appearance, a good library should offer escape routes down the most extraordinary avenues, pathways into different worlds from the one you've left outside. Ridding our villages, towns and cities of libraries, which are essential in shaping a nation's consciousness, seems like a direct attack on the soul of the country.

I shudder to think of the day when libraries may close their doors to the public forever and become an antiquated institution of the past. May we never lose these beacons of light and learning. For all who share in "the love of learning, the sequestered nooks, and all the sweet serenity of books", I echo Harry McCracken's statement that now, more than ever, libraries need us. It's time for us to give back to these noble institutions, through recognition that by preserving the past, we preserve the future for our children and generations to come.

 

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Libraries, Block argued, aren’t just book-loaning facilities. They’re about also equal opportunity and community, and perhaps they should rebrand themselves as being about access, not books.

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Read more: http://techland.time.com/2012/03/11/sxsw-the-fate-of-libraries/#ixzz2DaJV2bcK

Where Art Reigns Queen

The Toilet of Venus, Francois Boucher, 1751, Oil on Canvas. Housed in the Metropolitan Museum of Art, bequest of William K. Vanderbilt, 1920. 

We had a lovely time in NYC. Bob forgot to bring my camera so sadly I have no photos to commemorate our visit, but I do have some wonderful memories. We took the Amtrak Saturday morning and arrived in NYC around 10 am.  We grabbed a bagel at one of the eateries in the subway -- which was fine until Bob pointed out a baby mouse that was scurrying around scavenging for food (not in the eatery we were in but in one of the main passageways). I felt sorry for the little mouse, but couldn't help but be grossed out at the thought of a rodent sharing the same rental space as all those food vendors! 

We then took a subway to the Metropolitan Museum of Art which was just amazing. I was trying to decide between the Met and MOMA and settled on the Met. There was so much to see -- and we had so little time. We had to condense our choices of what to see and finally decided upon Greek and Roman Art (the marble sculptures were so beautiful, I could barely stand it!), Arms and Armor, Medieval Art, European Sculpture and Decorative Arts (love loved this!), and European Paintings (Boucher and the Rococo and Baroque artists are among my favorite). We also did a quick walk-through of the Art of The Samurai, a special exhibition that ended yesterday.There was so much more I wanted to see but we were short on time. We stopped at the American Girl store to pick up an outfit for Alekha's doll (promised since she had to stay home with the grandparents) and then went to Tiffin Wallah on E. 28th to satisfy our craving for Indian food. We headed back to Penn Station after checking out the Borders across the street and then caught the Bengals versus Jets game before taking the Amtrak back to Hartford. A really wonderful weekend and SO inspiring. Art is just amazing, especially when you see that which combines fine arts with history. I was in art heaven 

If you're looking for something fun and interesting to read, I have been reading a really fantastic book series called Fablehaven, by Brandon Mull. If you love Harry Potter, you'll like these books as well. It's a wonderful fantasy series in children's literature. Of course no one trumps JK Rowling, but Fablehaven does a great job of holding its own.

 

Have a great week!  Can't wait until I'm back in my own little house on Friday. There's no place like home.

 

Cooking up some things.

Why is it that people who aren't all that great at cooking (read: ME) love to read cookbooks and food blogs, books on cooking and travel, watch cooking themed movies (Julie & Julia) and tv (Top Chef). Must be because I like to eat! Some of the mouthwatering books I've been reading include We've Always Had Paris & Provence (check out authoress Patricia Wells' website) as well as On Rue Tatin by Susan Herrmann Loomis. It doesn't even seem to matter that I am vegetarian - I am intrigued by the recipes, the food and the stories that accompany them.

I have been busy at work in my studio cooking up some lovelies for JBS Mercantile - the September kit debuts tomorrow and is it a gorgeous kit! It features new papers designed by the talented Amanda Johnson - plus some awesome JBS exclusives as well as the sought after halloween bingo cards in a project kit - you won't want to miss this one, trust me!

I'll update with my contributions to the gallery tomorrow. In the meantime - enjoy these cooking and kitchen themed images.