Winged Words

This incident describes my entire life in a nutshell: During my first week of high school, I met a friendly, frizzy-haired girl named Karen. One day, as we sat waiting for English class to begin, I heard Karen tell someone, “My favorite book of all time is THE HOSPITALITY OF THE HOUSE. It’s the best book I ever read!” I can’t tell you what book we studied in English class that day, nor can I tell you what happened to Karen, who moved away after eleventh grade and was never heard from again. But I can still remember that her favorite book was THE HOSPITALITY OF THE HOUSE. In fact, from the moment she first mentioned the title in English class, I was on a mission to track that book down and read it! At some point I discovered it was a suspense novel by Doris Miles Disney, so every time I visited a bookstore or library, I’d check the mystery section for that title. Along the way I discovered other Disney books (THE CHANDLER POLICY, TRICK OR TREAT) which I read and enjoyed, but THE HOSPITALITY OF THE HOUSE continued to elude me. Finally...finally...would you believe FOURTEEN YEARS LATER...I found the book and read it, wondering if there was anyone else in the world who'd track down a book for over a decade just because he once heard a nearly-forgotten friend recommend it.

What is it about “word of mouth” recommendations that intrigues me so much? Every time I hear someone exclaim over a book, I feel a burning need to read it too. Why? Do I feel left out? Do I want to share in the other reader's excitement and enthusiasm? Or am I just trying to figure out what makes readers tick? I recently had a similar experience on this blog. In response to an entry on Newbery mysteries, Fuse #8 -- whose informative and enjoyable blog (http://www.schoollibraryjournal.com/blog/1790000379.html) is on my daily reading list -- posted the following:

“This is only a mystery in the sense that I can't figure out why it isn't available or in print. The Newbery Honor winner The Winged Girl of Knossos by Erick Berry is perhaps one of the best American children's books out there. Try finding it sometime, though. Rare doesn't even begin to describe it. If you do get a chance to read it, it's pip. I believe it won the honor in 1929. Fingers crossed that it gets its due someday.”

Well, as soon as I got this word-of-mouth recommendation, I knew I had to read the book too. Fortunately, I didn’t have to track it down for fourteen years. I actually owned a copy, though I’d never read it. I also had a letter written by Erick Berry, which I stumbled across in a bookstore some years ago. Addressed to a book reviewer who’d written a favorable critique of Berry’s JUMA OF THE HILLS, the letter includes a plug for a couple of Herbert Best books (in private life, Erick Berry was Mrs. Herbert Best...though she neglects to mention that fact in her letter.) The note also reveals that Harcourt had turned down her latest manuscript. Since the book Berry published after JUMA was WINGED GIRL OF KNOSSOS, and it marked her move from Harcourt to Appleton-Century, I can only assume that WINGED GIRL was the manuscript that Harcourt rejected. Once again, a publisher rejected a book that went on to be named a Newbery Honor. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again: Editors, take heed! Writers, take heart!
(Click on image to see full-size letter.)

I’m frankly shocked that Harcourt rejected this book. It's an unforgettable novel with a fascinating setting (Crete, thirty-five hundred years ago), a headstrong and independent protagonist, and a plot filled with forbidden romance, poisoned pots of honey, and daring escapes -- not to mention the heroine’s penchant for bull-vaulting and coasting through the air on handmade gliders -- all coming to a thrilling conclusion that melds the fictional characters’ fates with the few known facts about the sudden collapse of Crete’s civilization.

Perhaps what surprised me most about this book is how readable it remains, some seventy-five years after publication. The prose is clear and fast-paced; the characters’ personalities and relationships feel relevant to modern readers. Anyone with a taste for Tamora Pierce and Megan Whalen Turner would probably adore this novel and I join Fuse #8 in wondering why THE WINGED GIRL OF KNOSSOS isn’t in print. I think if some enterprising editor bought the rights to this story, got rid of Berry’s stylized illustrations (which she based on real Cretan murals, but nevertheless give the volume a dated look), removed a few of the more overtly offensive racial references, and then promoted the book properly, they might have a surprise hit on their hands. (Today a hit book, tomorrow a hit movie with Dakota Fanning doing backflips over Brahmins.)

As I said at the beginning of this entry, word-of-mouth recommendations always get to me. And I’m so glad Fuse #8 told me about THE WINGED GIRL OF KNOSSOS.

Now I’m telling you about it.

Pass it on.



THE WINGED GIRL OF KNOSSOS
written and illustrated by Erick Berry
D. Appleton-Century Company, 1933

What makes this book collectable:

It’s a Newbery Honor Book.

It’s a difficult-to-find title that deserves a renewed audience.

Unlike many early “geographical-historical” stories for children, such as THE DUTCH TWINS, THE JAPANESE TWINS, etc., this one is not just a superficial cut-and-paste look at another culture, but was researched when the author traveled to Crete and studied the island.

First edition points:

Yellow cloth binding with blue text and a blue head of a bull on the front panel.

A price of $2.00 and the numbers 2741 followed by four asterisks at the bottom of the front dustjacket flap.

The date “1933” on the title page and the words “First Printing” on the verso.

Difficulty in finding first editions:

Quite rare, and even old library copies usually sell for upwards of $150. However, in the world of book-collecting you never know what will turn up. I bought a great-looking first edition in a dustjacket from a Chicago-area bookdealer for only $20!

From All of Us

Every once in a while I'll come across a book that is signed by more than one person. Sometimes, for example, a volume is signed by both its author and illustrator -- which makes it twice as interesting. My copy of RETURN TO GONE-AWAY by Elizabeth Enright must set some kind of record, as nineteen different people have signed the front endpapers. None of them wrote or illustrated this book, none are likely famous. In fact, based on the handwriting, I'd say that most were grade school kids. Dated March 16, 1962 and inscribed "To Pamela, With all our love," the book appears to be a gift from a group of classmates.

I suppose a cranky collector who demands that all his volumes be in pristine condition would be appalled by endpapers cluttered with childish signatures, but these are the kinds of books I find most intriguing. I can spend hours daydreaming about the events of March 16, 1962 and the identity of Pamela. In my imagination, Pamela is about to move away and her classmates have decided to get her a gift. I imagine each of the kids contributing fifteen or twenty cents to buy this book. I can almost see the covert glances and hear the suppressed giggles as the teacher sends Pamela to the principal's office on some trumped-up errand in order for the students to sign the book. "You sign it first," the children urge, and the teacher writes "To Pamela, With all our love" and signs her own name, Mary Hatzis. Then the book is passed up and down the aisles as each member of the class hurriedly signs it: the best friend who is heartbroken that Pamela is going away...the boy who has a secret crush on her...the girl who once traded her tunafish sandwich for Pam's peanut butter sandwich...the class bully who doesn't want to sign any stupid book for any dumb girl...the girl in hand-me-down clothes who's never owned a book before and holds this one in her hands for just a few extra moments, wishing it were hers. Every kid with a story of their own.

This is how I imagine it.

Of course I could be wrong on every count. Maybe Pamela wasn't moving. Maybe Mary Hatzis wasn't the teacher. There are too many "maybes" to consider. The only thing I know for sure is that, nearly forty-six years after Pamela received it, the book now sits on my shelves -- its history cloaked in mystery, its story open to speculation and imagination.

Bands of Gold (and Orange)

Have you ever seen a book wrapped in a paper band announcing the Newbery Award? I have two in my collection, but they are the only two I've ever encountered.

I'm wondering if this was simply an advertising technique created by the publisher (Macmillan published both TRUMPETER OF KRAKOW and CADDIE WOODLAWN) or if these bands were somehow sanctioned by the American Library Association in the days before foil stickers were added to the dustjackets.

I'm not certain when the use of stickers began. I'm pretty sure the earliest Newbery sticker I've ever seen was on the 1935 winner DOBRY -- but, if that's the case, the following year's winner, CADDIE WOODLAWN, should have had a sticker too, instead of this band.

Certainly a sticker glued to the front of a dustjacket is much more permanent than a band wrapped around a book. If a sticker comes off, it generally leaves a skinned spot on the jacket or a circular shadow...but if these rather ephemeral bands broke apart or became separated from the volume, who'd know they were ever there to begin with? It's almost amazing that both these have survived intact for over seventy years. I'm so glad that I'm able to preserve this part of children's book history.

I'm curious if other Newbery bands exist. If anyone else has an example they'd like to share, please send a jpg to Newbery13@aol.com and I'll post it on this blog.