The end of the Phoenix Public Library Summer Reading Photo Challenge. What a mouthful!
Hello and welcome to my reading web log! This blog is my reading journey. Here you can find my book reviews, anything related to books, and even some of my original writing. Keep going down for posts and don't forget to look around the blog. Thank you! (this blog is best viewed in desktop mode/web version)
Thursday, June 30, 2022
Got My Free Books from Heroes Regional Library!
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| This was the email I got for mine. |
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| This was the email I got for Ale's. |
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| My free new book on the left and one from the Friends of the Library collection. I also got some new bookmarks! |
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| I also saw this cute activity page for kids and I got that for me XD |
Wednesday, June 29, 2022
Tuesday, June 28, 2022
Review: The Mortal Instruments: The Graphic Novel, Vol. 5
The Mortal Instruments: The Graphic Novel, Vol. 5 by Cassandra ClareMy rating: 5 of 5 stars
View all my reviews
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| I love the sparkles around Magnus! ☺️✨ |
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| Simon looks so sad here and it represents what he's going through right now very well. |
Review: A Tree Grows in Brooklyn
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty SmithMy rating: 4 of 5 stars
View all my reviews
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith-Notes & Highlights
I started reading the Ebook on Hoopla Saturday, May 28, 2022 at probably 2 AM with my Phoenix public library account. I decided to read without an audiobook for this one. I think it will go fine. It is a sister book club pick that will also go with my challenge for the Summer reading program. We were supposed to start reading on June 1st, but I wanted a sneak peek. This will be my first time reading this book and Ale’s second time reading this book. She said that she read it for a class for school before.
I just borrowed my first physical book (A Tree Grows in Brooklyn) from the Main Glendale library on Saturday, June 11, 2022 at 3:18:07 PM. It’s due July 2nd.
This will be the fifth book from our Sister Book Club. We will be reading two chapters a day in order to finish the book by the end of June.
📓Reading Journal:
June 1: Chapter 1-2
June 2: Chapter 3-4
June 3: Chapter 5-6
June 4: Chapter 7-8
June 5: Chapter 9-10
June 6: Chapter 11-12
June 7: Chapter 13-14
June 8: Chapter 15-16
June 9: Chapter 17-18
June 10: Chapter 19-20
June 11: Chapter 21-22
June 12: Chapter 23-24
June 13: Chapter 25-26
June 14: Chapter 27-28
June 15: Chapter 29-30
June 16: Chapter 31-32
June 17: Chapter 33-34
June 18: Chapter 35-36
June 19: Chapter 37-38
June 20: Chapter 39-40
June 21: Chapter 41-42
June 22: Chapter 43-44
June 23: Chapter 45-46
June 24: Chapter 47-48
June 25: Chapter 49-52
June 26: Chapter 53-54
June 27: Chapter 55-56
Our last reading session lasted 21 minutes. Ale read the last scene. Ale and I finished this book on Monday, 6/27/22 at around 3:30 PM.
A Tree Grows in Brooklyn by Betty Smith YouTube Playlist:
https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLYL0fUO8zjtZScv2adJmMJzYLEARDBVf7
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| This is the book that I borrowed from the Glendale library. |
“She sat in the hot sunshine watching the life on the street and guarding within herself, her own mystery of life. (11).
“Francie, Neeley, and Mama had a very fine meal. Each had a thick slice of the “tongue,” two pieces of sweet-smelling rye bread spread with unsalted butter, a sugar bun apiece and a mug of strong hot coffee with a teaspoon of sweetened condensed milk on the side.
There was a special Nolan idea about the coffee. It was their one great luxury. Mama made a big potful each morning and reheated it for dinner and supper and it got stronger as the day wore on. It was an awful lot of water and very little coffee but Mama put a lump of chicory in it which made it taste strong and bitter. Each one was allowed three cups a day with milk. Other times you could help yourself to a cup of black coffee anytime you felt like it. Sometimes when you had nothing at all and it was raining and you were alone in the flat, it was wonderful to know that you could have something even though it was only a cup of black and bitter coffee” (14).
It seems so sad, but I like that Francie makes it seem like it's the best thing you could have on a rainy day.
“Francie loved the smell of coffee and the way it was hot. As she ate her bread and meat, she kept one hand curved about the cup enjoying its warmth. From time to time, she ’d smell the bitter sweetness of it. That was better than drinking it. At the end of the meal, it went down the sink” (14).
“The old men, pensioners on their families, were made to run errands and mind babies, the only work left for old worn-out men in Williamsburg. They waited as long as they could before buying because Losher’s smelled kindly of baking bread, and the sun coming in the windows felt good on their old backs. They sat and dozed while the hours passed and felt that they were filling up time. The waiting gave them a purpose in life for a little while and, almost, they felt necessary again” (15).
“...then he went to work washing the wagon, whistling, ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart’” (29).
https://youtu.be/nwiIOPzvTkk?list=PLYL0fUO8zjtZScv2adJmMJzYLEARDBVf7
“Papa came in singing his favorite ballad, ‘Molly Malone.’ He always sang it coming up the stairs so that everyone would know he was home.
In Dublin’s fair city,
The girls are so pretty,
Twas there that I first met....” (31).
“He jammed his hands in his pockets, whistled, and started to do a waltz clog like Pat Rooney. Then he went into the song.
. . . a field of snowy white.
Hear the darkies singing soft and low.
I long there to be, for someone waits for me,
Down where the cotton blossoms blow” (36).
“The girl ran upstairs giggling hysterically while the boy friend walked away down the street whistling, ‘When I Get You Alone, Tonight’” (53).
“Johnny gave her a courtesy dance when the orchestra played ‘Sweet Rosie O’Grady’” (58).
“Johnny was waiting on the corner with his friends. They were whistling ‘Annie Rooney’ to pass the time away” (59).
“...and liquid eyes like an Italian” (67).
“He taught little Flittman fearsome scrapings and at the end of the year gave him the piece called ‘Humoresque’” (67).
“She was made up of all of these good and these bad things.
She was made up of more, too. She was the books she read in the library. She was the flower in the brown bowl. Part of her life was made from the tree growing rankly in the yard. She was the bitter quarrels she had with her brother whom she loved dearly. She was Katie ’s secret, despairing weeping. She was the shame of her father staggering home drunk.
She was all of these things and of something more that did not come from the Rommelys nor the Nolans, the reading, the observing, the living from day to day. It was something that had been born into her and her only—the something different from anyone else in the two families.
It was what God or whatever is His equivalent puts into each soul that is given life—the one different thing such as that which makes no two fingerprints on the face of the earth alike” (72-73).
“Katie sat in the front row and asked him to sing. He sang to her; sentimental songs of the time: ‘She May Have Seen Better Days,’ or ‘I’m Wearin’ My Heart Away For You’” (75).
“‘I know there is no Santa Claus.’
‘Yet you must teach the child that these things are so.’
‘Why? When I, myself, do not believe?’
‘Because,’ explained Mary Rommely simply, ‘the child must have a valuable thing which is called imagination. The child must have a secret world in which live things that never were. It is necessary that she believe. She must start out by believing in things not of this world. Then when the world becomes too ugly for living in, the child can reach back and live in her imagination. I, myself, even in this day and at my age, have great need of recalling the miraculous lives of the Saints and the great miracles that have come to pass on earth. Only by having these things in my mind can I live beyond what I have to live for.’
‘The child will grow up and find out things for herself. She will know that I lied. She will be disappointed.’
‘That is what is called learning the truth. It is a good thing to learn the truth one ’s self. To first believe with all your heart, and then not to believe, is good too. It fattens the emotions and makes them to stretch. When as a woman life and people disappoint her, she will have had practice in disappointment and it will not come so hard. In teaching your child, do not forget that suffering is good too. It makes a person rich in character’” (84-85).
“‘The child must be made to believe in heaven. A heaven, not filled with flying angels with God on a throne’—Mary articulated her thoughts painfully, half in German and half in English—‘but a heaven which means a wondrous place that people may dream of—as of a place where desires come true. This is probably a different kind of a religion. I do not know’” (85).
“When Francie heard the children shouting, ‘Here comes the Bettelbubbers,’ she ’d run out on the street, sometimes dragging Neeley with her.
The band consisted of a fiddle, drum and cornet. The men played old Viennese airs and if they didn’t play well, they at least played loud. Little girls waltzed with each other, round and round on the warm summer sidewalks. There were always two boys who did a grotesque dance together, mimicking the girls and bumping into them rudely. When the girls got angry, the boys would bow with great exaggeration (being sure their buttocks would bump another dancing couple), and apologize in flowery language” (113).
“And ‘The Beautiful Blue Danube’ played on and on” (114).
“The music tinkled out shrilly, a song from Carmen or Il Trovatore” (114).
“He struck the minor chord again; held it. To its soft echo, he sang in his clear true voice:
Maxwellton’s braes are bonny,
Whe’ early fae’s the dew.
(Chord—chord.)
An’ ’t was there that Annie Laurie,
Gied me her promise true.
(Chord—chord—chord—chord.)” (133).
“They’d sooner hear “Call Me Up Some Rainy Afternoon.” Except when they’re drunk. Then nothing but “Sweet Adeline” will do’” (133).
“Sometimes for the delight of his children Johnny listened to the shell, then held it dramatically at arm’s length, looked at it meltingly and sang:
Upon the shore I found a shell.
I held it to my ear.
I listened gladly while it sang,
A sea song sweet and clear” (134).
“He sauntered down the street with his light dancer’s step whistling ‘My Sweetheart’s the Man in the Moon’” (149).
The page counts from this quote and above have been coming from the PDF I downloaded.
“...tipped his hat gallantly and sauntered off down his beat whistling ‘At the Devil’s Ball’” (155).
The page counts will be coming from the physical book that I borrowed from the Main Glendale library.
“Their baby voices shrilled out in Handel’s ‘Largo’ and they knew it merely by the title of ‘Hymn.’ Little boys whistled part of Dvorak’s New World Symphony as they played marbles. When asked the name of the song, they’d reply ‘Oh, “Going Home.”’ They played potsy, humming ‘The Soldiers’ Chorus’ from Faust which they called ‘Glory’” (162).
“She read a few pages rapidly and almost became ill with excitement. She wanted to shout it out. She could read! She could read!
From that time on, the world was hers for the reading. She would never be lonely again, never miss the lack of intimate friends. Books became her friends and there was one for every mood. There was poetry for quiet companionship. There was adventure when she tired of quiet hours. There would be love stories when she came into adolescence and when she wanted to feel a closeness to someone she could read a biography. On that day when she first knew she could read, she made a vow to read one book a day as long as she lived” (164-165).
“Then, as whenever he was moved or stirred, he had to put it into a song. He held his worn derby over his heart, stood up straight looking up at the school house and sang:
School days, school days,
Dear old golden rule days.
Readin’ ’n writin’ ’n ’rithmetic . . .” (170).
“A brass band played doggedly. It played ‘The Kerry Dancers’ and ‘When Irish Eyes Are Smiling’ and ‘Harrigan, That’s Me.’ It played ‘The River Shannon’ and New York’s own folk song, ‘The Sidewalks of New York’” (182).
“He figured they could go on from there picking up their own knowledge and, according to his calculations, when they reached thirty, they would be twice as smart as he had been at thirty” (189).
This underlined quote reminded me of this video. https://photos.app.goo.gl/FSt54xNLpL3KkFtN8
“He began to sing under his breath. Soon he was carried away by his feeling and started to sing louder. Francie joined in. Johnny sang:
You’re a grand old flag,
You’re a high-flying flag,
And forever in peace may you wave . . .” (191).
“Gently, Teacher explained the difference between a lie and a story. A lie was something you told because you were mean or a coward. A story was something you made up out of something that might have happened. Only you didn’t tell it like it was; you told it like you thought it should have been” (196).
“He sang lustily as he rowed:
Sailing, sailing, over the bounding main” (223-224).
“June 12. Miss Tynmore gave me Schubert’s Serenade today. Mama’s ahead of me. She got Tannhauser’s Evening Star. Neeley says he ’s ahead of both of us. He can play Alexander’s Ragtime Band without notes” (243).
“On an impulse, Francie picked up a plate and held it over her heart the way Johnny held his hat when he sang. She sang one of his songs:
They called her frivolous Sal.
A peculiar sort of a gal…” (270).
“Katie was pleased. She knelt to light the oil stove. ‘What do you want me to play?’
‘“Come, Little Leaves,”’ called Francie.
‘“Welcome, Sweet Springtime,”’ shouted Neeley.
‘I’ll play “Little Leaves” first,’ decided Mama, ‘because I didn’t give Francie a birthday present.’ She went into the cold front room.
‘I think I’ll slice my banana on top of my oatmeal. I’ll slice it very thin so that there ’s a whole lot of it,’ said Francie.
‘I’m going to eat mine whole,’ decided Neeley, ‘and slow, so that it lasts a long time.’
Mama was playing Francie ’s song, now. It was one that Mr. Morton had taught the children. She sang to the music:
Come, little leaves, said the wind one day.
Come o’er the meadows with me and play.
Put on your dresses of red and gold . . .
‘Aw, that’s a baby song,’ interrupted Neeley. Francie stopped singing. When Katie finished Francie ’s song, she started to play Rubinstein’s ‘Melody in F.’ Mr. Morton had taught them that song, too, calling it ‘Welcome, Sweet Springtime.’ Neeley started to sing:
Welcome, sweet springtime, we greet thee in song” (275).
“Francie went in. There were two barbers but no customers. One of the barbers sat on one of the chairs in a row against the wall. His left ankle rested on his right knee and he cradled a mandolin. He was playing ‘O, Sole Mio.’ Francie knew the song. Mr. Morton had taught it to them saying the title was ‘Sunshine.’ The other barber was sitting in one of the barber chairs looking at himself in the long mirror. He got down from the chair as the girl came in” (289).
Mr. Morton wasn’t wrong. O, sole mio means my sunshine in English from Italian.
“Her thoughts were broken into by a wave of singing that rolled over the room. Someone started a popular anti-war song and the rest took it up.
I didn’t raise my boy to be a soldier.*
I brought him up to be my pride and joy…” (355).
“1917!
The sounds died away and the air was filled with waiting. Someone started to sing:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind . . .
The Nolans picked up the song. One by one, the neighbors joined in. And they all sang. But as they sang something disquieting came among them. A group of Germans were singing a round. The German words crowded into “Auld Lang Syne.”
Ja, das ist ein Gartenhaus,
Gartenhaus,
Gartenhaus.
Ach, du schoenes,
Ach, du schoenes,
Ach, du schoenes Gartenhaus” (398-399).
“‘I guess it is a swell night,’ agreed Neeley.
‘It’s so still and bright . . . almost . . . holy.’
She waited. If Papa were here with her now. . . .
Neeley sang.
Silent night. Holy night.
All is calm, all is bright.
‘He ’s just like Papa,’ she thought happily.
She looked out over Brooklyn. The starlight half revealed, half concealed. She looked out over the flat roofs, uneven in height, broken once in a while by a slanting roof from a house left over from older times. The chimney pots on the roofs . . . and on some, the shadowing looming of pigeon cotes . . . sometimes, faintly heard, the sleepy cooing of pigeons . . . the twin spires of the Church, remotely brooding over the dark tenements. . . . And at the end of their street, the great Bridge that threw itself like a sigh across the East River and was lost . . . lost . . . on the other shore. The dark East River beneath the Bridge, and far away, the misty-gray skyline of New York, looking like a city cut from cardboard” (403-404).
“‘You don’t want him to get into the habit of playing for free refreshments like. . . .’ She hesitated. Katie picked up the sentence.
‘Like your father? No, he’d never be like him. Your father never sang the songs he loved, like “Annie Laurie” or “The Last Rose of Summer.” He sang what the people wanted, “Sweet Adeline” and “Down by the Old Mill Stream.” Neeley’s different. He’ll always play what he likes and not care two cents whether anyone else likes it’” (406-407).
“That past fall she had seen a movie she liked: War Brides with Nazimova” (407).
“‘My grandparents never knew how to read or write. Those who came before them couldn’t read or write. My mother’s sister can’t read or write. My parents never even graduated from grade school. I never went to high school. But I, M. Frances K. Nolan, am now in college. Do you hear that, Francie? You’re in college!
‘Oh gosh, I feel sick’” (428).
“The boys stood around harmonizing. They sang ‘A Shanty in Old Shantytown’ and ‘When You Wore a Tulip,’ ‘Dear Old Girl,’ ‘I’m Sorry I Made You Cry,’ and other songs.
Sometimes the soldier boy led them in war songs: ‘Over There,’ ‘K-K-K-Katy’ and ‘The Rose of No Man’s Land.’
But no matter what they sang, always they finished off with one of Brooklyn’s own folk songs: ‘Mother Machree,’ ‘When Irish Eyes Are Smiling,’ ‘Let Me Call You Sweetheart,’ or ‘The Band Played On.’
And Francie walked past them in the evenings and wondered why all the songs sounded so sad” (435).
“The orchestra was playing one of Francie ’s favorite songs, ‘Some Sunday Morning.’
Some Sunday morning,
When the weather’s fine” (453).
“A group of soldiers were leaving the hall. As was the custom, the orchestra cut off the song they were playing and went into ‘Till We Meet Again.’ Everyone stopped dancing and sang a farewell to the soldiers. Francie and Lee held hands and sang, even though neither was quite certain of the words.
. . . When the clouds roll by
Then I’ll come back to you,
Then the skies will seem more blue . . .” (454).
“‘If Papa were here,’ thought Francie, ‘he ’d start to sing, “My Wild Irish Rose.”’ She heard her mother sigh and wondered whether she, too, was thinking….” (466).
“They were grouped around a girl at the piano and were singing, ‘Hello, Central, Give Me No Man’s Land’” (473).
“As Francie walked in, the pianist drifted into another song inspired by Francie’s new gray fall suit and her gray suede pumps. The girls sang: ‘There’s a Quaker Down in Quaker Town.’ A girl put her arm around Francie and drew her into the circle. Francie sang with them.
Down in her heart I know, she’s not so slow . . .
‘Francie, where’d you ever get the idea for an all-gray outfit?’
‘Oh, I don’t know—some actress I saw when I was a kid. Don’t remember her name but the show was The Minister’s Sweetheart.’
‘It’s cute!’
She has that “meet me later” look . . .
My little Quaker down in Quaker town.
Do-o-o-own To-o-o-o-own, harmonized the girls in a grand finale. Next they sang ‘You’ll Find Old Dixieland in France’” (473-474).
“They did Ted Lewis’s song: ‘For When My Baby Smiles at Me.’ From that it was inevitable that they go into ‘There Are Smiles That Make You Happy.’
And then it came.
Smile the while
You kiss me sad adieu. . . .” (478).
“Neeley came running up the stairs whistling ‘At the Darktown Strutters’ Ball.’ He burst into the kitchen peeling off his coat” (487).
“Then he leans his left elbow on the music rack and picks out the tune with his right hand while he sings.’ Neeley went into a fair imitation of his idol singing ‘When You’re a Long, Long Way from Home.’
‘Yup, he ’s swell. Sings the way Papa used to . . . a little.’
Papa!” (487).
“Neeley smiled and proceeded to scrub his face, neck, arms, and hands. He sang as he washed.
There’s Egypt in your dreamy eyes,
A bit of Cairo in your style. . . .” (488).
https://arabkitsch.com/song-directory-2/1008/theres-egypt-in-your-dreamy-eyes/
Reading this makes me feel like a kid in her shoes and looking at the world through this glossy lens.
Reading this book is kind of like time traveling.
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| Ale and I did spend some time answering all of these questions right after we finished reading. This screenshot was taken from the Hoopla Ebook I borrowed before I borrowed the physical book. |
We also had a tea party to discuss these questions over and Ale showed her doc of what she reviewed in class.
"A Tree Grows in Brooklyn" reference in Impractical Jokers!
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| Cool! |
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