Childhood books.17:05 Feb 05 2010
Times Read: 632
I remember my father reading to me as a child... I may have been in grade 1... age, about 4-5. In my recollection, the books seam odd to read to a 5 year old (and my brother 4,) such as: Alice and Through the looking glass; Treasure Island; and Watership down; I suspect, sometimes, aside from my father believing we were intelligent children, tha my fther read us these books for his own amusement and not ours. They seam, in subject, a childrens book, but theme, (and) tone, and content... are vividly adult.
I recall my first day at school... role call. The teacher called me Noah (oh dear... my real name revealed) I thought it was strange, mysterious, and familiar. I recognized that it must be me, although I had never been called this, always Christian. I said, " I think that is my first name, but I am called Christian."
After some interval, perhaps recess, I approached the teacher and asked her if you spell Noah N-O-A-H. I do not recall having learned to read, but I recall that this was my first attempt to spell a word that I had only heard. I think, perhaps that Mrs. Klem (Milk spelled backward with an e instead of an I) and a neighbor of my grandparents (on my father's side) was a bit impressed that I could already read and spell before five.
I presume that by having certain books (mostly australian childrens books) and being familiar with them, that I was reading, or even mayhap having them read to me. I, upon reflection, remember some memorization skills my mother taught to me ( of areligious nature) when I was 3... so it is likely that my mopther taught me to read around then. I distinctly recsll a yellow prayer book for children, and being able to read that. (omnipotant seams a big word to a 3 year old and it was many years before I knew what it meant.
A tangent, that is from my first day of school, I began to petition my parents to call me Noah, this took several years until I succeeded. My first girlfriend also changed her name... My beloved Beth (her second Name also) became Erin. I loved the name Beth... I did not want her to change her name, it seams as though something is lost when names are changed... a certain perspective... like she was not who I thought she was. (and she wasn't, of course ... what ten year old (14 when she changed her name) understands anyone else... especially so complex a thing as a girl a year younger, that you only get to spend a couple of hours with every month.
I wonder, if I would be a different person today, if I had stayed with the name Christian, would I be smarter, would I be more carefree, more curious, less fearful? The power of words is astonishing.
I digress overmuch.
My father, although I do not remember this scene, upon recieving a report card, told me once that, I was no longer his favourite. Perhaps that is when things changed... a certain innocence lost, and not that I changed my name.
(there was also a scene when a stanger to me said my singing was "interesting." A more pivital remembrance for me of the power of words.)
Some days, I am less smart than that child (especially with this blasted diabetes) a child reading gullivers travels, oliver twist, and Louis Lamour, when he was 5.
Certain books make me feel like I did at that age. A book which uses word not in common parleyance. I love these books, as they reminisce of my childhood to be cognizant that you don't understand a passage... and a certain joy, as you the meaning clarifies at a late rdate when the word (which is like a secret treasure) becomes revealed. There is also a sense of accomplishment, which seams an innocent superiority. From this, I supose, stems a great deal of my self esteem, pride, and self centeredness. If this is true, it may be easier to summon self worth and banish egotism, having realized the source.
Reviewing allegory, and symbolism, evokes a similar passion in me for excellence.
Every parent should read books above the level of their childrens grasp, let them read, on their own, books which they better understand.
Perhaps this is the mystery of childhood: cpmprehending that you don't know, which instead of being inhibiting, is like a door to possibilities. It was for me on several levels.
"Adults are obsolete children." - Dr. Seuss
COMMENTS
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Lovise
00:30 Feb 06 2010
My childhood book was Alice in Wonderland, and deeper down the rabbit hole I went. Tea parties with stuff animals, and always in the backyard of my house, looking for the white rabbit. -smiles- Such good memories that they have my favorite, of course I never found the white rabbit, like the unicorn until I saw it, and learned.
Lovise
00:34 Feb 06 2010
Another reason my parents read that book to me, because they wanted to face life forward. -smiles- My father would always ask like the Caterpillar, ''Who are you?'' I would tell him of who am I, and tell him that I was proud of what I have become in life, and happy. Anther memory that gold to my heart.