"The Robe" - a wonderful, old book.

Greetings, my fellow old book lovers! My name is India Aderhold, I'm 18 years old and hail from South Dakota! Titmoss recently invited me to join the blog, so here I am! I'm working on my English degree - which means - I absolutely LOVE to read. Especially old books. My Mom is an old book lover as well, so I grew up reading and enjoying all the old, classic books.


I'm going to share a bit about one of my favorite books, "The Robe" by Lloyd C. Douglas. Unfortunately, I saw the movie before the book, and while the movie is good, the book is astounding! It's tells the story of the robe that Jesus wore - the very robe that the Roman soldiers gambled for in John 19:23-24. In "The Robe", a Roman soldier named Marcellus wins the robe, which takes him on a journey that changes his life forever. Although it gets to be a bit long and drawn out in some places, it's a great story of faith, adventure, and finding redemption in Jesus.

My copy is fairly old, it was published in 1942. While it's not in spectacular condition, it's not in poor condition either! Sadly, the woven cover is starting to come apart on the binding, but otherwise it's a pretty sound little book.


The lady who owned it before me put a beautiful sticker with her name on it on the inside cover. Also on that sticker, is a poem which reads:

Books are keys to wisdom's treasure;

Books are paths that upward lead; 

Books are gates to lands of pleasure;

Books are friends, come, let us read. 

One of My Favorite Old Books: David Copperfield.

Of all the old books I own, my favorite is the copy of David Copperfield, by Charles Dickens I own. It is a blue leather bound book, with gold lettering and nice semi-white pages. Besides the prettiness of the thing itself, it's a charming and moving story. One worth reading over and over...

Here is a little review I wrote on the one character in the book that you would be least likely to think to write about; Miss Dartle. She intrigued me as I read through the work, and so afterwards, I wrote about her.

~*~

Miss Rosa Dartle...

...has an uncomfortable way of extracting information she wants from you by feigning ignorance or misunderstanding and then pleading to be “corrected” aright. What bothers you most about her is that she knows she is pretending in this way and she knows you know this too; but continues to use this tactic and it works because politeness dictates that you cannot refuse her the information she ‘kindly’ asked for.

   She is extremely bitter (and consequently vengeful) and this surfaces when ever she becomes to coolly irate to cover behind the ignorance act. Rosa desires the man she watched as a child, Steerforth, to be her own, but for pride does not show it to him except for one way; by lashing out when he tries to humor or caress her.

  As, for Steerforth , he cares little for his bitter, mad nurse; though it appears he might pity her sad fate and life. When he runs away with another girl (Emily) Miss Dartle sees this not as an act of Steerforth’s bad character, but Emily’s (even though Steerforth enticed the girl.)Miss Dartle declares Emily ‘ruined’ her Steerforth and that “he was too good for her”, Dartle lashes out with jealousy and other hidden feelings she has harbored against the very man she is jealous for and ‘loves.’ She knows Steerforth does not care for her or even care that she does.  Because she so earns the right for you to hate her, you cannot help but feel sorry when she retires from life present to, with extreme bitterness and increased age, tend the mother of the now deceased man she wanted so jealously. She says to the mother often during the rest of their dreamy nightmare like days, “I loved him more than you ever did!”  And we wonder if she actually came to ‘love’ her bitterness and jealousy toward Steerforth more than the man himself. 

~*~

What piques my curiosity is who (if anyone) was Rosa modeled after? Her character is so distinct and long-remembered in my own mind that I wonder if Dickens has someone to ascribe to in the back of his mind for her character and personage. Who knows? ...
~Titmoss

P.S.- Members: Feel free to post some more here! ;) *Hint-hint*

References: 

Dickens, Charles; David Copperfield

http://www.victorianweb.org/authors/dickens/turkey/turlit14.html

http://pd.sparknotes.com/lit/copperfield/section23.html

Book Review: A Portrait of a Lady, by Henry James

A Portrait of a Lady
Henry James
You can read it here:
(Volume I) http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/2833
(Volume II) http://www.gutenberg.org/etext/2834

Portrait is a rather sad moral tale. Basically it's about an American woman, Isabel, who was orphaned and thus goes over to live with her only living relatives in England. There, she has many suitors and refuses them all--as she tells her cousin, Ralph "I'm not ready to be tied down yet, I want to see things..." So, she sets out to do that at first, and travels because her uncle ... Read Moredies and leaves her a large fortune. Unbeknownest to her, that same cousin Ralph (who is dying of tuberculosis) convinced her uncle to give her that fortune. So...what does she do? She falls into the snare of a handsome, playboy nobleman. He becomes her husband-dictator; all her free-will and life is gone.
And at the end, when she recieves news that Ralph is dying, though her husband forbids her, she escapes and it is on Ralph deathbed that he tells her all as he dies in her arms. So sad! The best lines are these (said to Isabel on his deathbed):
Ralph : Remember this, Isabel. If you have been hated, you have also been loved.
[He pauses] No. No--adored.

Out of five stars, I give it a 3.

A Bookish Link

Looking for good books for free? How about online?

Click here to see a few of my personal favorite classics.

Everly Pleasant

The Little Lame Prince: An Excellent Story

"The Little Lame Prince and his Travelling Cloak" (often published under its shorter title "The Little Lame Prince") is a story for children first published in 1875. In the story, a young prince whose legs are paralysed due to a childhood trauma is given a magical travelling cloak by his fairy godmother; he uses this cloak to go on various adventures and develops great wisdom and empathy in the process."

--Book review from http://www.shelfari.com/

I found this little book a very nice afternoon read, and loved how every page of it reminded me of all my favorite fairytale stories... and precisely that, got me to wondering something: do fairytales, with their magic & fairy godmothers, undermine or contradict God's ways?

Just a thought... if you have any thoughts yourself, leave us a comment. :) Discussions like this can be very engaging & fun.

~Titmoss

What to Look For In Old Books...

• Look at the binding. Is the spine cracking? or falling apart? You may want to rethink those kinds of purchases. If the book is worn on the outside but still holding together, it should be fine for display, and maybe even reading use.


• 
  Closely examine the pages. Are they ripped, heavily soiled or otherwise damaged. If so, then leave it on the shelf. (Unless you don't mind, or you're using it for decorative purposes only.)


• Take note of any special, or colored illustrations, especially in books earlier than 1900. If the book is falling apart, but the pictures are fine, you might consider framing the pretty drawings or plates!


• Keep in mind specific works or printings that are rare. they may be more expensive, but if you are collecting they could be worth the extra money. (Just keep in mind point 1 and 2!)

And remember, since this will be your book to use and enjoy, you can't be too picky! (That is, unless the book is really rare, which is a special case of course.)

Long Live Old Books!

~Titmoss

Alice in Wonderland...

“Where shall I begin, please your Majesty?” he asked.

“Begin at the beginning,” the King said, very gravely,” an go on till you come to the end: then stop.”

Alice in Wonderland...

If you've never heard of it, you'd have to be either very ignorant, very unwilling, or have had your ears shut since from the time you were born!

Everyone loves Alice, do they not? (Some may contest the idea, but it is generally accepted.) And yet--why is it that we like this strange book written by such a peculiarly singular author?

Who knows! I only know this; that when reading Alice in Wonderland, or any of Carroll's other gleefully serene adventures, you get the idea (after beginning and ending them) that you've been IN the story all along. You were there, watching Alice talk to the Queen, trip over jury box, sneeze at the pepper, and incite the raving madness of the Hatter! What delight, and what fun. I believe, despite your reservations or protestations, everyone (including you) should read Alice in Wonderland at least once in your life time. In order to be properly deposed of as 'culturally literate', you know.

It's a engrossing (but funny) story; you must give it that. However, besides the rumors (they're true) that I've heard of his having an motive of and an underlying social satire throughout it all, I am always amazed at his ingenious wit and intelligence. He actually hid puzzles, riddles, and (very hard to find) tricks in his stories. He asks you to try and find them in the introductions, too. I ahev never found any of them. (That will require yet further study, I suppose.)

So Alice In Wonderland is good reading; great, no doubt. However, if after enjyoing yourself in that one and other you think his Stories are a hoot--and riotously pure brain enjoyment-- you've seen nothing yet. Wait 'til you read a few of his poems. That's what I love to open up to again and again!

I've 'enclosed' a small sampling of my favorites, just os you can see what I mean. (There's more,and I have lots of favorites in them, if not all.) They're long, but read them to the end and you'll be (laughing and ) happy you did.

~Titmoss

THE CROCODILE

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

OW doth the little crocodile

Improve his shining tail,

And pour the waters of the Nile

On every golden scale!




How cheerfully he seems to grin!

How neatly spread his claws,

And welcomes little fishes in

With gently smiling jaws!

[A ridiculous, but funny, recitation! Which (recitation), bye the bye, has almost completely left school practices today... it's no wonder kids can't remember anything.]

FATHER WILLIAM

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

"OU are old, Father William," the young man said,

"And your hair has become very white;

And yet you incessantly stand on your head--

Do you think, at your age, it is right?"




"In my youth," Father William replied to his son,

"I feared it might injure the brain;

But, now that I'm perfectly sure I have none,

Why, I do it again and again."




"You are old," said the youth, "as I mentioned before,

And have grown most uncommonly fat;

Yet you turned a back-somersault in at the door--

Pray, what is the reason of that?"




"In my youth," said the sage, as he shook his gray locks,

"I kept all my limbs very supple

By the use of this ointment -- one shilling the box --

Allow me to sell you a couple?"




"You are old," said the youth, "and your jaws are too weak

For anything tougher than suet;

Yet you finished the goose, with the bones and the beak--

Pray, how did you manage to do it?"




"In my youth," said his father, "I took to the law,

And argued each case with my wife;

And the muscular strength which it gave to my jaw

Has lasted the rest of my life."




"You are old," said the youth, "one would hardly suppose

That your eye was as steady as ever;

Yet you balanced an eel on the end of your nose--

What made you so awfully clever?"




"I have answered three questions, and that is enough,"

Said his father; "don't give yourself airs!

Do you think I can listen all day to such stuff?

Be off, or I'll kick you down-stairs!"

['Tweedle-Dee' and 'Tweedle-Dum' start to sing this just as Alice is slinking away, in the Disney cartoon movie. I always regretted that they couldn't put the whole thing in there; it's just so funny.]

I'LL TELL THEE EVERYTHING I CAN

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

'LL tell thee everything I can;

There's little to relate,

I saw an aged, aged man,

A-sitting on a gate.

"Who are you, aged man?" I said.

"And how is it you live?"

And his answer trickled through my head

Like water through a sieve.




He said, "I look for butterflies

That sleep among the wheat;

I make them into mutton-pies,

And sell them in the street.

I sell them unto men," he said,

"Who sail on stormy seas;

And that's the way I get my bread--

A trifle, if you please."




But I was thinking of a plan

To dye one's whiskers green,

And always use so large a fan

That they could not be seen.

So, having no reply to give

To what the old man said,

I cried, "Come, tell me how you live!"

And thumped him on the head.




His accents mild took up the tale;

He said, "I go my ways,

And when I find a mountain-rill,

I set it in a blaze;

And thence they make a stuff they call

Rowland's Macassar Oil--

Yet twopence-halfpenny is all

They give me for my toil."




But I was thinking of a way

To feed one's self on batter,

And so go on from day to day

Getting a little fatter.

I shook him well from side to side,

Until his face was blue,

"Come, tell me how you live," I cried,

"And what it is you do!"




He said, "I hunt for haddocks' eyes

Among the heather bright,

And work them into waistcoat-buttons

In the silent night.

And these I do not sell for gold

Or coin of silvery shine,

But for a copper halfpenny,

And that will purchase nine.




"I sometimes dig for buttered rolls,

Or set limed twigs for crabs;

I sometimes search the grassy knolls

For wheels of hansom-cabs.

And that's the way" (he gave a wink)

"By which I get my wealth--

And very gladly will I drink

Your honor's noble health."




I heard him then, for I had just

Completed my design

To keep the Menai bridge from rust

By boiling it in wine.

I thanked him much for telling me

The way he got his wealth,

But chiefly for his wish that he

Might drink my noble health.




And now, if e'er by chance I put

My fingers into glue,

Or madly squeeze a right-hand foot

Into a left-hand shoe,

Or if I drop upon my toe

A very heavy weight,

I weep, for it reminds me so

Of that old man I used to know--

Whose look was mild, whose speech was slow,

Whose hair was whiter than the snow,

Whose face was very like a crow,

With eyes, like cinders, all aglow,

Who seemed distracted with his woe,

Who rocked his body to and fro,

And muttered mumblingly and low,

As if his mouth were full of dough,

Who snorted like a buffalo--

That summer evening long ago,

A-sitting on a gate.

[Thsi one is just plain strange;but it's a delight nevertheless.]

JABBERWOCKY

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

'WAS 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! Calloh! 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.

[Probably Carroll's most well-known poem.]

THE WALRUS AND THE CARPENTER

by: Lewis Carroll (1832-1898)

HE sun was shining on the sea,

Shining with all his might;

He did his very best to make

The billows smooth and bright--

And this was odd, because it was

The middle of the night.




The moon was shining sulkily,

Because she thought the sun

Had got no business to be there

After the day was done--

"It's very rude of him," she said,

"To come and spoil the fun!"




The sea was wet as wet could be,

The sands were dry as dry.

You could not see a cloud, because

No cloud was in the sky;

No birds were flying overhead--

There were no birds to fly.




The Walrus and the Carpenter

Were walking close at hand;

They wept like anything to see

Such quantities of sand--

"If this were only cleared away,"

They said, "it would be grand!"




"If seven maids with seven mops

Swept it for half a year,

Do you suppose," the Walrus said,

"That they could get it clear?"

"I doubt it," said the Carpenter,

And shed a bitter tear.




"O Oysters, come and walk with us!"

The Walrus did beseech.

"A Pleasant walk, a pleasant talk,

Along the briny beach;

We cannot do with more than four,

To give a hand to each."




The eldest Oyster looked at him,

But never a word he said;

The eldest Oyster winked his eye,

And shook his heavy head--

Meaning to say he did not choose

To leave the oyster-bed.




But four young Oysters hurried up,

All eager for the treat;

Their coats were brushed, their faces washed,

Their shoes were clean and neat--

And this was odd, because, you know,

They hadn't any feet.




Four other Oysters followed them,

And yet another four;

And thick and fast they came at last,

And more, and more, and more--

All hopping through the frothy waves,

And scrambling to the shore.




The Walrus and the Carpenter

Walked on a mile or so,

And then they rested on a rock

Conveniently low--

And all the little Oysters stood

And waited in a row.




"The time has come," the Walrus said,

"To talk of many things:

Of shoes -- and ships -- and sealing-wax --

Of cabbages -- and kings --

And why the sea is boiling hot--

And whether pigs have wings."




"But wait a bit," the Oysters cried,

"Before we have our chat;

For some of us are out of breath,

And all of us are fat!"

"No hurry!" said the Carpenter.

They thanked him much for that.




"A loaf of bread," the Walrus said,

"Is what we chiefly need;

Pepper and vinegar besides

Are very good indeed--

Now, if you're ready, Oysters dear,

We can begin to feed."




"But not on us!" the Oysters cried,

Turning a little blue.

"After such kindness, that would be

A dismal thing to do!"

"The night is fine," the Walrus said.

"Do you admire the view?"




"It was so kind of you to come!

And you are very nice!"

The Carpenter said nothing but,

"Cut us another slice.

I wish you were not quite so deaf--

I've had to ask you twice!"




"It seems a shame," the Walrus said,

"To play them such a trick.

After we've brought them out so far,

And made them trot so quick!"

The Carpenter said nothing but,

"The butter's spread too thick!"




"I weep for you," the Walrus said;

"I deeply sympathize."

With sobs and tears he sorted out

Those of the largest size,

Holding his pocket-handkerchief

Before his streaming eyes.




"O Oysters," said the Carpenter,

"You've had a pleasant run!

Shall we be trotting home again?"

But answer came there none--

And this was scarcely odd, because

They'd been eaten -- every one.




[If you watched the Disney movie, like I did, you'll notice they used this almost verbatim.]