The Story of Doctor Doolittle
Posted: November 17, 2010 Filed under: Book of Sand 1 Commentby Hugh Lofting
{ 1920 | Frederick A. Stokes | 180 pgs }
Wow, that was a different era, huh? The Story of Doctor Doolittle has some amazingly outdated (and offensive) depictions. Wow. Just wow.
Our main character, Dr. John Doolittle, is a physician who has a variety of pets. Because he has so many pets, his patients gradually stop coming to see him. This means he has no money. Fortunately, he has a pet parrot who teaches him to speak parrot language, and from there Dr. Doolittle learns how to speak to all the animals. He becomes a veterinarian and prospers – until he allows a crocodile (escaped from the circus) to live in his pond, and then people are afraid to bring their pets to see Dr. Doolittle. Just as he runs out of his last few pennies, he’s asked (by a swallow) to travel to Africa to heal some sick monkeys. He borrows a boat and supplies and sets off to Africa with a few of his most trusted animal companions.
Once they arrive, Dr. Doolittle’s pet monkey Chee Chee starts leading them to the monkey colony (village?), but along the way they’re stopped and captured by the king of Jolligingki. He hates white men and won’t let Dr. Doolittle continue. By a clever ruse, Dr. Doolittle’s parrot, Polynesia, helps them escape, and they continue on to the monkeys, whom Dr. Doolittle heals. In appreciation, the monkeys gift Dr. Doolittle with a pushmi-pullyu, a two-headed gazelle-type creature, so that he can charge people in England to see the pushmi-pullyu and thus restore his fortunes.
Of course, Dr. Doolittle and his animals are captured by the king of Jolligingki again on their way back to the coast; this time, Polynesia again arranges escape for them, with the help of the king’s son, Bumpo. Apparently Bumpo’s greatest wish is to be a white prince, so he can marry a beautiful princess; Dr. Doolittle bleaches Bumpo’s face and hair in exchange for freedom. Again, wow.
The gang heads back to England in the ship Bumpo prepared for them, but before too long they’re attacked by pirates. Dr. Doolittle, with the help of his animal friends, manages to steal the pirate ship. In a locked room inside they find a little boy who was captured by the pirates, along with his uncle, a few days before. But his uncle is nowhere to be found. The animals eventually find him, and everyone arrives safely back in England. Dr. Doolittle makes plenty of money exhibiting the pushmi-pullyu and then retires to his quiet home again.
Aside from the plot, The Story of Doctor Doolittle was written very simply; it feels like it was intended for a six- or seven-year-old. And maybe it was. It was a quick read, but not incredibly enjoyable. I think there are so many other great adventure novels (most of them not quite so politically incorrect) that this one just isn’t quite worth the hour it will take to read it. Try Mary Poppins instead.
In high demand
Posted: November 17, 2010 Filed under: Dangerous Book for Boys 1 CommentThe Bwun has had a rough couple weeks. After two emergency room trips and adjusting to life with jr, he caught a stomach bug from his cousins and spent most of this morning throwing up. It was miserable for all of us. He woke up crying around 6:30 and barfed almost every hour until early afternoon…which meant all of us were tired, and tired of the Bwun being sick. I’m sure he had it worst.
With any luck, tomorrow will be better. The Bwun took a long nap this afternoon and then asked to go to bed just before 9pm (why doesn’t he always ask nicely to go to bed? I wish!). He seems to be feeling a little better, just really tired and REALLY not interested in having me pay any attention to jr. Sorry, bud, she has to eat. And my lap is only so big.
I do like feeling popular, but I’d rather be in high demand by healthy kids instead of sick ones!
(That doesn’t mean I want you to send your healthy kids over to ask me for attention. They’d just get sick. And I’d be grouchy. So, don’t.)
Sorry, I was wrong (and other holiday traditions)
Posted: November 16, 2010 Filed under: All's Well That Ends Well 4 CommentsChase: I listened to Christmas music in the car today. Not like I was flipping through stations and happened to hear a Christmas song; I intentionally tuned my radio to a Christmas station. I guess I’m not a Christmas purist, after all.
I was thinking today about what I expect from Christmas. Not in terms of gifts – I mean how I imagine Christmas Day will play out. And even Christmas Eve. The Romgi and I both grew up with Christmas traditions, some stronger than others, some more enjoyable than others. In my family, we went to see the luminarias in Gordon Valley on Christmas Eve. Then I’d try to go to sleep…it was a lot easier once I discovered Excedrin PM (once I was old enough to take it, of course!). I still have trouble sleeping on Christmas Eve.
On Christmas morning, I’d wake up at some ungodly hour and go open my stocking. The rule at our house was that you could open your stocking when you woke up, but presents waited until everyone (meaning our parents) was awake. Our stockings usually had some cash from grandparents, some trinkets or toys, goodies like Lindt truffles, and a chocolate orange. I’ve come to associate Christmas morning with feeling sick from eating too much chocolate on an empty stomach. You know you’ll be sick but you just can’t help eating more…
This is how we did our present-opening: one person would go find a present for each person, and we’d go around and open them one at a time. The problem there is that you can definitely see who got the most presents that year! After all the gifts were opened, and the living room was pleasantly covered in wrapping paper, boxes, and new toys, my mom would go make her to-die-for crescent rolls. I will make them for you sometime. Maybe. If I feel like sharing. Christmas comes but once a year, and it’s the same for those crescent rolls. Sometimes I looked forward to those more than to my presents. Try one and you’ll understand.
Christmas dinner is in the early afternoon, right? That meant we had several hours to eat more candy and more crescent rolls, play with our new toys, and take a nap. The rest of the day always seemed like a freebie. You could snack whenever you wanted, enjoy your gifts, sleep as much or as little as seemed right, and finally go to bed content and full.
When the Romgi and I got married, it finally occurred to me that not everyone does Christmas the same way.
In the Romgi’s family, they have a Christmas Eve program. There are specific scriptures and hymns as well as a script telling the story of Christ’s birth. Later, they eat plum pudding that has coins baked in it. Whoever finds the smallest coin gets to open a Christmas present first. I have to say, I’m a big fan of opening a present on Christmas Eve (as long as there are still presents left to open the next morning, of course). And on Christmas there are traditional dishes for dinner, like goose and a surprisingly good brussels sprouts dish.
The worst thing about growing up is that now I have to help cook dinner instead of napping or playing with toys. The best thing is that now I can (to some extent, while we’re sharing Christmas with family) help decide what dishes we’re going to eat. And this year the Bwun will be big enough to understand that he’s getting new toys. That will definitely be worth it.
What Christmas traditions did you grow up with? What are new ones you want to start?
Jarom
Mika
hilleries 