Food and Fiction

One of my fondest memories from my college literature classes is from my first semester of college.  I had signed up for British Literature II, a course based, obviously, on British Literature. The “II” encompassed the years 1800-1950. The professor lady was cheerful and friendly to her students, including myself, and it was clear from the way she talked about books that she derived absolute glee from them.*  

She had us read out loud the poetry and act out the plays. She had outdated and esoteric video adaptations that we would watch and discuss, or play musical numbers. She would instruct us to draw illustrations of scenes from the classic literature. And she graded on a “200%” scale, something she knew would drive the more mathematically-minded of her students crazy. 

Thus, when one of the students suggested we have a “Literature Tea” during class, this very interactive and engaging professorin was all for it. The rules were simple: any student who wanted to participate should sign up for a food that had been included in one of the works we had read on the syllabus.  

Reviewing "My Father's Dragon" by Ruth Stiles Gannett

I’m sure I’ve recounted how my mom used to trick me into reading books when I was younger* by reading aloud the first few chapters of a book and then stopping at the Critical Moment so I had no recourse but to devour the book when she was off making my PB and J. 

Once, however, this backfired.  

I was about ten years old, and as we were in the process of moving we were at the time living in my grandma’s basement until our new home was vacated. My mom got out this book called My Father’s Dragon and was trying to get me to read it. Now by ten years old I was a confirmed reader, but frankly the illustrations of My Father’s Dragon (and its sequels Elmer and the Dragon and The Dragons of Blueland) seemed pretty babyish to me. 

“This dragon looks like a dork,” I thought dubiously as she handed me the slim paperback. “Why does this lion have bows in its hair? And who wants to read about a story starring someone’s father?”

Beverly Cleary's "Ramona" Series

I am sure I read every book of fairy tales in our branch library, with one complaint—all that long, golden hair.  Never mind—my own short brown hair became long and golden as I read and when I grew up I would write a book about a brown-haired girl to even things up. 

 ~ Beverly Cleary

As wonderful as Anne Shirley or the American Girls or Rebecca of Sunnybrook Farm or Alice in Wonderland are…no one, not even Laura Ingalls Wilder (who was REAL) is as real and relatable as Ramona Quimby. At least for me. 

When we meet Ramona, she’s the pesty preschool sister of Beezus, the best friend and proto-love interest to Beverly Cleary’s other hero, Henry Huggins. Beezus got her own spinoff from Henry in Beezus and Ramona. But Ramona, being Ramona, quickly took over, spinning off in Ramona the Pest. She didn’t stay a pest, though. By third grade she’s Ramona Quimby, Age 8 (which happens to be the first book by Cleary I ever read, and remains my favorite to this day), and by the conclusion of her series it’s Ramona’s World.