Armchair BEA: Dear Marilyn Sachs

I'm writing to thank you for The Truth About Mary Rose (Doubleday, 1973). That's my childhood copy, the 1977 Dell Yearling edition, illustrated by Louis Glanzman. It was one of the few books (maybe even the only one) I read as a child that had a Hispanic or Latina main character--like me, or close enough (I'm Cuban-American). I loved that Mary Rose's dad, an artist, made her rice pudding when he was worried about her being sick, and that she was surrounded by her extended family in New York City, even if they were mostly on her American mother's side. Speaking of Mary Rose's mother (Veronica Ganz, but I hadn't read that book), I also loved that she was a dentist and kept her maiden name at work. But Mary Rose's grandmother, on the other hand, just made me mad (to be fair, she made Mary Rose's mother mad, too). How could she say such mean things about Mary Rose's dad? And why would everyone let her get away with it? Even, especially, Mary Rose herself.

Rereading The Truth About Mary Rose as an adult, which I did last night, I'm more interested in the representation of the Ramirez (Ganz) and Petronski families than I am in the mystery of the first Mary Rose--after all, I already know how it ends. And I want to congratulate Luis Ramirez on his one-man show at MoMA. Very impressive! It almost makes up for having such an awful mother-in-law.

First Impressions: Andrew Wyeth

My grandmother had a framed print of Christina's World (1948) by Andrew Wyeth, and even though I've never seen the actual painting (I wonder if she had? It's in the MoMA's collection), I still love it. It's such an evocative image. So I'm excited about the National Gallery's forthcoming exhibition, Andrew Wyeth: Looking Out, Looking In, featuring another favorite Wyeth painting, Wind from the Sea (1947); and reading a bit about Wyeth in advance.

Fortunately, I have my own copy of First Impressions: Andrew Wyeth by Richard Meryman (Abrams, 1991). Meryman, who first met Wyeth while writing an article for LIFE magazine in 1964, became a friend of the artist and has gone on to publish a number of books about Wyeth and his work, most recently A Spoken Self-Portrait (NGA, 2013). Their friendship undoubtedly informs Meryman's biography of Wyeth, written while Wyeth was still living; the author describes it as "a distillation of years of talk and understanding." It's part of the First Impressions series of artist's biographies developed especially for older middle grade and young adult audiences and published by Abrams in the 1990s--insightful and thorough, these are all well worth seeking out.

Susan Goldman Rubin covers a bit more ground in Everybody Paints! The Lives and Art of the Wyeth Family (Chronicle, 2014), including three generations of artists, N.C. (Andrew's father), Andrew, and Jamie (his son). Also part of a series (I reviewed Rubin's Delicious: The Life and Art of Wayne Thiebaud here; Wideness and Wonder is about Georgia O'Keeffe), Rubin's book would make an interesting comparison with Meryman's, at least as far as Andrew is concerned. I will report back.

A Year of Mandy

One of my best beloved books is Mandy by Julie [Andrews] Edwards (Harper and Row, 1971). I still have my battered Bantam paperback (1977) with the original Judith Gwyn Brown illustrations  (sadly, not the lovely hardcover edition pictured here) and reach for it whenever I'm in need of comfort reading. For those of you who haven't read Mandy, it's the story of a lonely little girl who discovers an abandoned cottage on the other side of the orphanage wall. Spring, summer, and fall, Mandy tends to the cottage and its garden, making it a place of her very own; but when winter comes, and Mandy gets sick, her secret is no longer safe.

Both thematically and structurally, Mandy's story corresponds to the seasons of the year. The book itself is divided into four sections, each with a different number of chapters (summer is the shortest), and this year, I'm planning to reread each section closely and share some thoughts--personal and professional (so to speak)--about it here. Starting with Spring, in April (because spring is somehow not here yet). I would love it if anyone wanted to join me.

[This is sort of like what Elizabeth Burns at A Chair, A Fireplace & a Tea Cozy just did with Harriet the Spy (also Harper and Row, 1964) in honor of its fiftieth anniversary. I must have read Harriet at around the same time I read Mandy (I had the Dell Yearling edition, 1980) and I confess: I didn't really like Harriet! Although I was fascinated by her. Maybe I should revisit that book, too?]

Almost Betsy-Tacy and Tib Dolls

If only someone at Land of Nod had read the Betsy-Tacy books! The Knit Crowd dolls are almost perfect replicas of Betsy, Tacy, and Tib as they look in Lois Lenski's illustrations for the first four books. Just switch the hair color on the brown and yellow-haired dolls and shorten the braids, and you have Betsy and Tib (the ballet dress is better on Tib anyway). And Tacy's red (orange) ringlets are exactly right. Sadly, all three dolls are sold out til early February, but that just means you have time to reread the books, conveniently reprinted in the The Betsy-Tacy Treasury by Maud Hart Lovelace (William Morrow, 2011). I still have my 1970s Harper Trophy editions; judging from their condition, Betsy-Tacy and Tib was my favorite. This image is from Chapter II, Learning to Fly. 

[I am not affiliated with Land of Nod! Although maybe if I had been the dolls, otherwise adorable, would have had the right color hair. I might have to buy the Tacy one anyway. For Milly (ahem).]