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	<title>Salon.com > Polly Shulman</title>
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		<title>What&#8217;s bigger than a kazillion?</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2003/11/12/infinity/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2003/11/12/infinity/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 12 Nov 2003 21:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/review/2003/11/12/infinity</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[David Foster Wallace provides an entertaining tour of the mind-blowingly big numbers -- and establishes that some infinities are larger than others.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>The greatest thrill I remember from my girlhood -- better than my first kiss, first airplane flight, first taste of mango, first circuit around the ice rink without clinging to a grown-up's sleeve -- was the heart-lifting moment when I first understood Georg Cantor's Diagonal Proof of the nondenumerability of the real numbers. This proof, the Mona Lisa of set theory (to my mind, the most satisfying branch of mathematics), changed the way mathematicians thought about infinity. </p><p> If you've ever thought much about numbers or talked with a preschooler learning to count, you've probably encountered some of the questions that led to Cantor's discovery a century ago. How many natural numbers are there? (Naturals are just the numbers we count with: 1, 2, 3, 4 and so on up forever.) And what about the even naturals: 2, 4, 6, 8 and so on? Infinitely many in both cases, right? OK, but are there more naturals than evens? Clearly every even natural number is a natural number, but there are plenty of naturals that aren't even -- namely the odds: 3, 5, 7, 9 and so on. Does that mean that the set of naturals is bigger than the set of even naturals? </p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2003/11/12/infinity/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>More dark materials</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2000/10/18/pullman/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2000/10/18/pullman/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 18 Oct 2000 17:42:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/10/18/pullman</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[With "The Amber Spyglass," Philip Pullman concludes the epic, heretical fantasy that began with "The Golden Compass."]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>It hasn't been a great time for allegory, that tricky form in which meaning rummages through the trunks of the subconscious for mask upon mask. Current literature tends toward the literal. Prose readers who hanker for the latest versions of the strange, symbolic dramas of Edmund Spenser or Revelations must seek them, for the most part, in genre ghettos: children's books, science fiction, horror or fantasy. </p><p> "The Amber Spyglass" is the final book in the most ambitious allegory being published today, Philip Pullman's "His Dark Materials" trilogy. With epigraphs from William Blake, Rainer Rilke and John Ashbery, and tributes to John Milton and Henrich von Kleist in the acknowledgments, Pullman places himself in a tradition of serious symbol makers, which might be expected to intimidate the children to whom the series is directed (or, at least, to whom it was directed when he began it). But while Pullman may have become caught up in adult theology -- and while he has won more grown-up readers with each "Dark Materials" book -- he keeps the swooping plots and passionate characters that make his earlier books so appealing to young readers. </p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2000/10/18/pullman/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Matriarchy blues</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2000/04/21/sf_3/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2000/04/21/sf_3/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 21 Apr 2000 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/04/21/sf</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Feminist sf grows up and gets wise in the conclusion of Suzy McKee Charnas&#039; Holdfast Chronicles.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>I</b>t has been many, many years since men -- with their pollution, their demand for sons and their machinery of war -- destroyed millions of people, changing the face of the planet we live on. Long ago, a few blond survivors waited out the worst of the Wasting in bunkers. Their descendants formed a new society called the Holdfast, based on domination: of women by men, of the young by the old, of the weak by the strong. But from time to time, a rare, brave woman escapes. Crossing the mountains, she exchanges slavery for life with the Riding Women, a race of people entirely independent of men.</p><p>Suzy McKee Charnas' Holdfast Chronicles fall squarely in the tradition of feminist Utopias/dystopias that produced Joanna Russ' "The Female Man" or <a href="/special/1998/bookawards/19sba_atwood.html ">Margaret Atwood's</a> "The Handmaid's Tale," nourishing writers like Ursula K. Le Guin and Sherri S. Tepper. The latest book in the series, "The Conqueror's Child" (1999), recently won the James Tiptree Jr. Award, an annual literary prize for science fiction or fantasy that "explores and expands the roles of women and men." Produced over the course of 30 years, the Holdfast tetralogy offers a fascinating look back at the permutations of the feminist imagination in recent years, and it underlines the ideals and challenges faced by feminists -- sometimes on purpose and sometimes in spite of itself.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2000/04/21/sf_3/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Party animals</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2000/03/31/scifi/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2000/03/31/scifi/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 31 Mar 2000 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/03/31/scifi</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Our science fiction columnist on Sean Stewart&#039;s dark tale of perpetual Carnival.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>T</b>o ecologists and creators of drama alike, islands have much to recommend them. Isolated from the larger world, they conjure up their own societies and ecologies, filling the niches they create with characters or creatures evolved from the materials at hand. The same geography that bred "The Origin of Species," "The Tempest" and "Lord of the Flies" is the hatching ground for "Galveston," Sean Stewart's beautifully written and muscular double coming-of-age fantasy.</p><p>When fantasists and science fiction writers want to create a self-contained world, they often pick a planet -- an island surrounded by a vacuum. Stewart, however, stays Earth-bound off the Texas coast, rooting his story in our planet's current history. In 1900 a flood changed the face of Galveston; 104 years later another flood -- of magic, not water -- disrupted the island utterly and sent the survivors into a state of siege.</p><p>Ever since Mardi Gras 2004, the island has been divided in two. Downtown, in Carnival, eternal night reigns. There, time stands still for a perpetual party hosted by the master of ceremonies, the hunchbacked god Momus. Meanwhile, beyond Carnival's gates, Galveston's leading citizens have been struggling for decades to hold their world together. The four Mardi Gras Krewes, clubs of townspeople who used to organize the Mardi Gras parade before the Flood, have grown in political power.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2000/03/31/scifi/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Spy vs. spy</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2000/02/18/banks/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2000/02/18/banks/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 18 Feb 2000 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/02/18/sf</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Sadism and palace intrigue flavor the deliciously paranoid vision of Iain Banks.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>"<b>T</b>ruth, I have learned, differs for everybody," opines Oelph, the slightly pompous narrator of Iain M. Banks' new novel, "Inversions." "Just as no two people ever see a rainbow in exactly the same place -- and yet both most certainly see it, while the person seemingly standing right underneath it does not see it at all -- so truth is a question of where one stands, and the direction one is looking in at the time." If that's not a warning against unreliable narrators, I don't know what is. The Pontius Pilate-like statement seems reasonable yet treacherous, calling into question its utterer's ethics. It's typical of Banks: In book after book, he takes as his themes betrayal, deception and loyalty.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2000/02/18/banks/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Drug cults, incest and the tooth fairy</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/2000/01/21/joyce/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/2000/01/21/joyce/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 21 Jan 2000 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/2000/01/21/joyce</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Graham Joyce&#039;s dark visions walk the thin line between truth and nightmare.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>I</b>n Graham Joyce's 1996 novel "The Tooth Fairy," a young boy develops a dysfunctional sexual relationship with the eponymous sprite. In 1999's "Dark Sister," a woman who uncovers a century-old diary kept by a witch finds herself compelled to cast the spells it contains. And in "Indigo," published this month, a charismatic millionaire leads a group of young people on a deadly search for a color no one's ever seen. These are fantasies, right?</p><p>Well, maybe. Joyce walks with the grace of a circus star, or a Henry James, on that narrow line between seeming and being. Can Maggie really transform herself into a bird, or is she just high on the herbs that go into her potions? Did Sam invent the tooth fairy, as his parents and his psychiatrist believe, or did the fairy invent Sam, as the creature insists? Do the indigo seekers see true visions or psychotic hallucinations? Joyce builds suspense by keeping his readers guessing up to the very end -- and sometimes beyond.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/2000/01/21/joyce/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Tempting fate</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/12/23/sf_willis/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/12/23/sf_willis/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 23 Dec 1999 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/1999/12/23/sf_willis</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Connie Willis&#039; science fiction tackles time travel and chaos theory with Wodehousian wit.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>C</b>onnie Willis, curmudgeon, book addict and philosopher, writes with a devil on one shoulder and an angel on the other. Like her literary ancestor G.K. Chesterton, another philosopher wit, she's fascinated with paradoxes of good and evil. Her twin advisors have various names: chaos and order, the past and the present, comedy and tragedy. But which is the angel and which the devil? In her world, the forces of dissolution may well turn out to be agents of a benign fate.</p><p>Take Flip, the pierced, tattooed mailroom clerk at HiTek, a corporate think tank, where Willis' 1996 novel "Bellwether" takes place. Grudging and aggressively incompetent, she tosses a monkey wrench into the research of every scientist in the company. At least, that's how it seems to Sandra Foster, the narrator. Sandra, a sociologist, is trying to discover how fads start (in particular, hair-bobbing in the 1920s). Flip foils her at every turn, trashing her carefully arranged clippings or mis-delivering important packages. Yet if not for Flip, Sandra might never have met chaos researcher Bennett O'Reilly, and the two might never have started on their singularly fertile collaboration.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/12/23/sf_willis/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Creature of the night</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/11/19/klause/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/11/19/klause/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Fri, 19 Nov 1999 17:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Entertainment]]></category>
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		<category><![CDATA[Harry Potter]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/books/feature/1999/11/19/klause</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[If you like Harry Potter and love Buffy the Vampire Slayer, then we&#039;ve got a writer for you.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>I</b>t's hard to get a non-fan to read fantasy or science fiction. Like marzipan or okra, the genres reputedly appeal only to very particular tastes. People who love to treat their colds with hot soup and a mystery, or to court sunburns with a beach towel and a celebrity tell-all, will turn up their noses at speculative fiction. "Spaceships?" they sniff. "Wizards? Just not my thing."</p><p>Although I love a good spaceship or wizard (or marzipan or okra, for that matter), I sympathize. Bad science fiction and fantasy can get pretty stratospherically bad -- and at spectacular length. Nevertheless, when readers scorn the good stuff, they're closing their minds to treasures that have grown rare elsewhere in fiction. Adventure, allegory, invention and myth have taken refuge in these genres.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/11/19/klause/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Books for bad children</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/10/27/polly/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/10/27/polly/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 27 Oct 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/10/27/polly</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Bring on the ghosts, the ghouls and the unhappy endings.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>T</b>here's no holiday like Halloween, with its domesticated thrill of fear,<br /> its transfiguring disguises, its license for mischief and -- not least -- all<br /> that candy. What creature, natural or supernatural, could be unnatural<br /> enough not to love Halloween? Well, maybe the tooth fairy.</p><p>Dental advocates like Herself who become tempted to slip a book<br /> into the trick-or-treat bag instead of candy will find plenty of goodies<br /> to choose from. Anthologies of ghost stories, chapter books about<br /> witches, and gothics for tots crowd the shelves this time of year.<br /> They'll keep the Halloween spirit alive well past Thanksgiving, when<br /> long-hoarded sugar pumpkins have turned to rock.</p><p>Angela Barrett -- whose heroic "Joan of Arc" and "Snow White" have become classics --  provides delicate illustrations for "The Random House Book of Ghost Stories,"  which features tales that are, on the whole, more melancholy or comic than frightening. Originally published in Great Britain, it brings together such British masters as Leon Garfield, Penelope Lively and Philippa Pearce.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/10/27/polly/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>How do I know I&#039;m really me?</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/09/28/wild_thing/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/09/28/wild_thing/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 28 Sep 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/09/28/wild_thing</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Children ask the big questions, and these dreamy books venture to answer.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>C</b>hildren are natural philosophers, perhaps because they have so much to resolve if they're to have any hope of getting along in the world. Such as: Why do things fall when I drop them? Do they always? How can my mother tell when I'm lying? Is she? Will it be morning again tomorrow? How do I know whether I'm awake or dreaming? And a mind that's building a philosophy to live by doesn't stop at the practical questions. Where does the moon go in the day? Did the world really exist before I was born? When will I get to be older than my big sister? How do I know I'm really me?</p><p>When I was 7, I used to lie awake at night wondering about infinity. I would imagine myself swimming up from my bed into the darkness of space, on and on, out and out. It had to stop somewhere, I thought, so I imagined a brick wall marking the end. But what was beyond the brick wall? Sometimes I broke through into more darkness, miles of it, hours of it, until the emptiness made me panic and I added another wall -- only to break through it into more space. Sometimes, to stave off the darkness, I would imagine the wall extending in its red-brown solidity, filling the space beyond it with bricks and mortar, until that, too, became oppressive. Eventually, unnerved, I'd crawl into bed with my parents.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/09/28/wild_thing/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Is hell satisfied?</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/08/25/tedhughes/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/08/25/tedhughes/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 25 Aug 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/08/25/tedhughes</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[In keeping with their authors&#039; dark histories, "The Iron Giant" and other children&#039;s tales by Ted Hughes and Sylvia Plath tell ominous fables about ambition, despair and people&#039;s disregard for nature and one another.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>I</b>t's a dark night in cartoonland, and a monster has just bitten the antenna off Hogarth's roof. Armed only with a BB gun and a flashlight, the young hero sneaks out to find it. The forest is still, with the deceptive calm of suspense thriller moments before an attack. "I hate this part," wails the kid in the front row. Clearly, he's seen this movie before.</p><p>Parents eager to keep the family entertainment bills under control (those $9 tickets really add up) will be tempted to substitute the print version of <a href="/ent/movies/review/1999/08/06/giant/index.html">"The Iron Giant"</a> for the movie of the same name. So will those who hope to guide their children's enthusiasm into literary channels. After all, a mere $16 buys the 30th anniversary edition of the classic chapter book by the <a href="/books/feature/1998/10/30feature.html">late poet laureate of England,</a> its jacket spangled with gushing blurbs from juvenile lit greats, such as Madeline L'Engle and the author of "The Phantom Tollbooth."</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/08/25/tedhughes/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Oracles of history</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/06/22/future/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/06/22/future/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 22 Jun 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/06/22/future</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[At the turn of the millennium, Kathleen Krull&#039;s "They Saw the Future" gives kids a look at futures past.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>T</b>he future is upon us. No more than usual, of course. It just seems that way because of a conjunction of accidents having to do with the year of birth of a visionary figure and the number of fingers on our hands. If we had nine fingers, the second millennium would have burst forth at the height of the Renaissance, 44 years before Columbus sailed the ocean blue -- arguably a more appropriate era. However, since we count off the years on our 10 digits, we have the honor of living  at what is known as the dawn of the future. It's a once-in-two-dozen-lifetimes chance to see how few predictions actually come true.</p><p>Amid the endless parade of top-10 lists and published forebodings that mark the millennium, Kathleen Krull's "They Saw the Future" stands out. This large-format book for 10-to-14-year-olds is a uniquely forward-looking history, illustrated with handsome collage paintings. In 12 chapters devoted to "oracles, psychics, scientists, great thinkers, and pretty good guessers," it explores the human longing to understand and thereby control the future.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/06/22/future/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Juvenilia</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/05/18/juvenilia/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/05/18/juvenilia/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 18 May 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
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		<category><![CDATA[Jane Austen]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/05/18/juvenilia</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Hilarity and insight -- sometimes unintended -- show up in the early writings of great authors.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>"What do you want to do when you grow up?" the cheek-pinchers ask their long-suffering victims, offering such suggestions as "doctor," "lawyer," "firefighter," "ballerina," "president." What about before they grow up? Traditionally, the list of vocations for juveniles is shorter. Now and then a young Mozart comes along to prove that music is a perfectly viable profession for a preteen genius. But there are no prodigies among poets and novelists -- too much wisdom required, which must be wrested with tears from bitter experience. Or so claim the old and the wise.</p><p>Oh, yeah? Amelia Atwater-Rhodes is the latest counterexample. She finished her first novel, "In the Forests of the Night," last year when she was only 13. An atmospheric revenge tale about a teen vampire, it's as suspenseful and well-constructed as many novels by authors several times her age. "As a teen, I bring a different perspective to writing," Atwater-Rhodes told Teen People. "I can offer immediate emotions, experiences and insight that adult writers often have to reach back and find in order to write about them."</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/05/18/juvenilia/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>How does your garden grow?</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/04/21/plants/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/04/21/plants/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 21 Apr 1999 16:00:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/04/21/plants</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Spring blooms eternal in this selection of children&#039;s books about flowers and fairies.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>A</b>ny toddler worth his teddy bear can tell you that lions roar, doggies wag their tails and wolves like to dine on little pigs and Red Riding Hood. When kids develop a specific interest in a subject, whether it's earth science or the solar system, their knowledge becomes even more succinct. You'd be surprised how many 6-year-olds know a backhoe from a dump truck or Uranus from Neptune. If one day your preschooler lectures you on the fine points of the metriacanthosaurus and the brontosaurus ("That's apatosaurus, mom. Brontosaurus is the old name!"), don't run out and have her tested for idiot savant syndrome. Such an impressive command of data is common among youthful enthusiasts.</p><p>But how many kids do you know who can tell an azalea from a zinnia? In this season when tiny, perfect leaves poke through the ends of rural twigs like the fingers of newborns, when suburban lawns start to bloom bright, and shaggy weeds assert themselves even along the edges of city cement, shouldn't those ravenous young minds be scarfing up plant facts?</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/04/21/plants/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Wild Thing &#124; Blarney for bairns</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/03/17/shul/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/03/17/shul/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 17 Mar 1999 20:41:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/03/17/shul</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Forget the leprechauns -- it&#039;s irreverence, mythologies, and assistant pig-keepers that make Irish stories spellbinding for kids.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p>Kilts, bagpipes, freckles, leprechauns, beans on toast, Neolithic monuments, whiskey, second sight, endless unpronounceable names full ofl's and gh's: Kick your way through the stereotypes of Celtic culture,and you'll find a rich  mythological heritage. Few cultures have made a greater contribution to children's literature in the English language than those of Ireland, Scotland and Wales. Their traditions put a premium on storytelling, offering a warm welcome to the irreverent and uncanny. No wonder children's book authors can't get enough of their stories.</p><p>"In Celtic societies, women were given fairly equal status with their men. Some became rulers of tribes and even fought in battle," writes Robert Byrd in the afterword to "Finn MacCoul and his Fearless Wife: A Giant of a Tale from Ireland,"one of a pair of newly published picture books that celebrates Ireland's<br />                                                   mythological heroines. Byrd draws on several<br />                                                   sources, including Yeats, for his story of Oonagh, the<br />                                                   wife of the timorous, goofy giant Finn, who<br />                                                   outsmarts Cucullin, a big -- and I mean BIG -- bully<br />                                                   from Scotland. Finn attracts Cucullin's attention by<br />                                                   building the Giant's Causeway, a stone bridge<br />                                                   between Ireland and Scotland. (Geologists call it a<br />                                                   basalt formation, but storytellers know better.) When<br />                                                   Cucullin comes looking for him, Finn runs home to<br />                                                   Oonagh. Thinking fast, she hides him in a cradle,<br />                                                   then passes him off to Cucullin as Finn's own infant.<br />                                                   Finn and Oonagh pull the cheese trick, a folktale<br />                                                   staple: She challenges the great Scot to crusha stone<br />                                                   in his hand; when he can't, she gives Finn a<br />                                                   look-alike cheese,which he shatters easily. If Finn's<br />                                                   baby son is capable of such feats, thinks Cucullin,<br />                                                   what must the father be like? He doesn't stick<br />                                                   around to find out.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/03/17/shul/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Let-r play</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/02/18/shul_2/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/02/18/shul_2/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Thu, 18 Feb 1999 12:16:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/02/18/shul</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Classic and iconoclastic books shake up the alphabet and take kids on a trip through the Dictionapolis of the written word.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>O</b>nce they've mastered <a href="http://www.salonmagazine.com/mwt/shul/1999/01/20shul.html">the alphabet,</a> children arrive at a star-shaped crossroad bristling with choices. They can become readers, writers, typographers, crossword enthusiasts, spelling champs, editors of the school paper -- the list goes on. These many paths through the garden of literary delight braid together, circling around to meet, perhaps, at a sculpture garden full of mythological figures, or a small folly shaped like a ruined castle or a piece of ornamental water. And for each path the young alphabet master chooses,  a genre of children's books waits to guide him down it.</p><p>Closest to alphabet books are letter-play books, such as William Steig's ingenious "CDB!" and its sequel, "CDC?" Each page contains a string of letters that yield their meaning when  pronounced sequentially. Steig helps out with his goofy cartoon illustrations. The title spread of "CDB!" for example, shows a boy and girl enthusiastically inspecting an insect that's hovering near some flowers. (See the bee -- get it?) "D B," it turns out, "S A B Z B." Girls named MLE and KT and boys named PT will find these books particularly XLN.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/02/18/shul_2/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Better _ead than _uck</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1999/01/20/shul_3/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1999/01/20/shul_3/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Wed, 20 Jan 1999 13:11:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Readers and Reading]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1999/01/20/shul</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[New ABC books are breathing life into an old genre by making letters vanish, get lost and pop up in unexpected places.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>J</b>ust as babies love to stare at other babies, books are fascinated by books -- children's books especially. After all, they have an educational duty to foster a love of learning. The younger the audience, the trurth is: Before books can open a child's mind to new experiences, they have to help her learn to negotiate their own pages. They have to teach the language if they want to speak volumes. Perhaps that's why B is so often for Book.</p><p>ABCs usher children into the prestigious world of the written word. Remember your first one? Remember tracing the letters with your finger, as if its meaning would somehow flow in through your hands? Perhaps you were an Eric Carle child, like me -- his colors seemed so vivid I thought I could feel them with my eyes closed. Like the old favorites, the recent crop of ABCs introduces aspiring readers to the uses of those funny squiggles adults set such store by, then elaborates on their subtleties.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1999/01/20/shul_3/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Things are not quite what they seem</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1998/11/16/shul_4/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1998/11/16/shul_4/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 16 Nov 1998 20:39:00 +0000</pubDate>
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				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1998/11/16/shul</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Themes of transformation 
and metamorphosis populate three weirdly  hypnotic books for kids.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>W</b>hen I was your daughter's age, or a bit older, I would often come home<br /> from school to find that my mother had been at my doll house again. She<br /> would leave a raw brussels sprout on the kitchen table, a perfect doll's<br /> cabbage; she made me an elevator out of a cricket cage, an empty spool<br /> and a length of bakery string. She said I had inspired her with my own<br /> improvisations: a walnut-shell cradle, perfume-sampler lamps with<br /> toothpaste-cap shades, footstools and cafe chairs made from the wire<br /> fasteners that keep champagne corks secure until New Year's Eve. Was it<br /> a passion for metaphor and puns? Were we identifying too strongly with<br /> Cinderella's godmother? Were we seeking dominion over the tiny and<br /> commonplace? Whatever the reason, there was nothing quite so satisfying<br /> to us as creating something out of -- not nothing, but something else.</p><p>To honor the pleasure we both took in transformations, I'm planning to<br /> give Mom Joan Steiner's "Look-Alikes." This volume of photographic still<br /> lifes is marketed as a puzzle book for children, but it's really<br /> something more profound: a meditation on nostalgia and utopia, or a<br /> series of visual lyrics, or maybe a vivid dream.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1998/11/16/shul_4/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Strange brew</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1998/10/13/shul_5/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1998/10/13/shul_5/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Tue, 13 Oct 1998 19:59:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
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		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1998/10/13/shul</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[Love and art are the twin redeemers for the hipster heroes and heroines of Francesca Lia Block&#039;s young adult novels.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><font size="-1" color="#996699">BY POLLY SHULMAN</font> <font color="#000000">|</font> <b>F</b>rancesca Lia Block writes young adult novels so far out of the<br /> mainstream that I wouldn't be surprised to learn that the Association of<br /> Suburban PTAs had banned them from information centers across America.<br /> Her youthful heroines and heroes rarely spend much time in school, and<br /> they're too busy singing in rock bands, surfing, having babies out of<br /> wedlock, communing with ghosts, taking photographs, driving around Los<br /> Angeles in vintage convertibles and living happily ever after to bother<br /> with homework.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1998/10/13/shul_5/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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		<title>Words that sing</title>
		<link>http://www.salon.com/1998/09/14/words_that_sing/</link>
		<comments>http://www.salon.com/1998/09/14/words_that_sing/#comments</comments>
		<pubDate>Mon, 14 Sep 1998 08:41:00 +0000</pubDate>
		<dc:creator></dc:creator>
				<category><![CDATA[Life]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[All Salon]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Disney]]></category>
		<category><![CDATA[Music]]></category>

		<guid isPermaLink="false">http://www.salon.com/life//wild/1998/09/14/words_that_sing</guid>
		<description><![CDATA[A child&#039;s life is full of music, from &#039;Happy Birthday,&#039; to
&#039;Hickory, Dickory, Dock.&#039; What better way to capture the delight of
childhood than with picture books built around the magic of music? Polly
Shulman reviews five new books who&#039;s words leap and sing in harmony.]]></description>
			<content:encoded><![CDATA[<p><b>P</b>icture books belong to the age of music, the era when children learn<br /> to mark their most important triumphs with song: "Happy Birthday to<br /> you";  "Nyah, nyah, I know something you don't know."  Sadly, though,<br /> books can't sing -- unless you consider one of those maddening novelties<br /> with a whining chip wedged in its spine a book. Rather,  they depend on<br /> the human voice for their music. Even when you read them to yourself, children's<br /> books refuse to be silenced. Again and again, their authors find ways of<br /> capturing the drama, self expression and power of song in their flat,<br /> still pages.</p><p>One way to borrow a musical voice is to illustrate a song, as Kathy<br /> Jakobsen does in "This Land Is Your Land." A small, upright Woody<br /> Guthrie strides through Jakobsen's folk-arty paintings while his song<br /> plays itself out in the reader's inner ear and perhaps even aloud if<br /> there's a parent around who can carry a tune.</p><p><a href="http://www.salon.com/1998/09/14/words_that_sing/">Continue Reading...</a></p>]]></content:encoded>
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