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My most recent batch of books ordered from the States: The Alphabet / El alfabeto, by Gladys Rosa-Mendoza ABC, by Dr. Seuss Go, Dog. Go! by P.D. Eastman Anterooms: New Poems and Translations, by Richard Wilbur The Science Book: National Geographic Within minutes of opening the box, I read the first two out loud to Mrs. Tragos’s stomach / Little Tragos-within.

My most recent batch of books ordered from the States:

  • The Alphabet / El alfabeto, by Gladys Rosa-Mendoza
  • ABC, by Dr. Seuss
  • Go, Dog. Go! by P.D. Eastman
  • Anterooms: New Poems and Translations, by Richard Wilbur
  • The Science Book: National Geographic

Within minutes of opening the box, I read the first two out loud to Mrs. Tragos’s stomach / Little Tragos-within.

“Either the book will continue to be the medium for reading, or its replacement will resemble what the book has always been, even before the invention of the printing press. Alterations to the book-as-object have modified neither its function nor its grammar for more than 500 years. The book is like the spoon, scissors, the hammer, the wheel. Once invented, it cannot be improved.”

Umberto Eco on his new book, This is Not the End of the Book: A Conversation Curated by Jean-Phillipe de Tonnac.

“Children don’t read to find their identity, to free themselves from guilt, to quench the thirst for rebellion or to get rid of alienation. They have no use for psychology…. They still believe in God, the family, angels, devils, witches, goblins, logic, clarity, punctuation, and other such obsolete stuff…. When a book is boring, they yawn openly. They don’t expect their writer to redeem humanity, but leave to adults such childish illusions.”

Isaac Bashevis Singer, “Why I Write for Children”

(Referenced in: “Isaac Bashevis Singer: Conversations, University Press of Mississippi, 1992)

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I Am Four Years Old

To the questions, “What are you reading now Tragos?” and, “At what level do you read?” I have the following two answers:

1. I am currently reading Winnie the Pooh: Why Does it Rain?

and

2. I read at the level of a four year old.

I took an early interest in Winnie the Pooh’s adventures. My Mom and Dad both read a beautiful edition of A.A. Milne’s “Winnie-the-Pooh” to me when I was four years old. I read the tales of Christopher Robin, Pooh, Piglet, Eeyore, Kanga, and Tigger on my own a few years later. I even made the venture to Anaheim, where I met the bear in the fur (pictured above).

However. It’s now been a few decades. Three and a half to be precise. And I haven’t progressed at all. In my struggles to learn Turkish, I have become a toddler, and a toddler who learns exceptionally slowly at that.

There are compensations to being a very, very elementary reader. For one thing, I’m almost ridiculously engrossed in the story. Will Pooh be able to arrange a picnic for his friends, despite the rain? I…just…don’t…know. It will likely take me the rest of the week to find out. And I can’t wait. I think he will. But you never know what will happen in Pooh Corner. You just don’t.

Also, there is the joy of learning words. “Yağmur, her şeyi temizliyor.” “Temizliyor”? What is rain doing? Oh, it’s cleaning. It cleans everything? Amazing! Piglet can drop some serious knowledge from time to time.

I do have hopes and ambitions. If I work hard enough, I might make it to the six-year-old section of the bookstore. Junior high romance books? Why not shoot for the sky? And I might even find out why it rains.