While going through the brochure for the upcoming L’Abri conference, I noticed that one of the sessions by the estimable Jerram Barrs was entitled “Children’s Books: The Power of Stories in Renewing our Humanness”. Which reminded me of a conversation I had with a co-worker earlier today about children’s stories, and more specifically, the stories that I read, or plan to read, to Simon.

Right now, most of our reading with Simon consists of those baby books that are designed to teach children important concepts like letters, colors, shapes, and all of the different kinds of trucks. We also read Goodnight Moon, That’s Not My Truck…, and the illustrated children’s Bible. But when it comes to stories, Simon’s just not there yet.

I’ve read to him portions of C.S. Lewis, A.A. Milne, and H.P. Lovecraft (it was Simon’s idea, and besides, he doesn’t know his Cthulhu from his Yog-Sothoth yet), but he just doesn’t quite have the attention span to sit still for more than a few paragraphs. But as I look forward a few years from now, when we’re actually able to read real, honest to God stories together, I find myself greatly desiring to read to Simon those stories that I loved as a young boy.

I developed, at a very young age, a great love for myths and fairy tales of all kinds: Greek, Roman, Norse, Celtic, Russian, etc. I certainly read more than my fair share of C.S. Lewis’ Chronicles of Narnia. I read J.R.R. Tolkien, though I think I was much too young at the time to truly appreciate his writings (I certainly don’t want Simon to make that mistake). I read the books of Jack London, though I personally preferred Jack O’Brien’s Silver Chief series. And of course, there were the Arthurian legends, particularly the versions written and beautifully illustrated by Howard Pyle.

In short, I want to read stories that will instill within Simon a few key points, points that will serve him well later on in life:

1. Goodness, truth, beauty, honor, justice, and love are defended by the Good Guys.
2. Evil, death, lying, cheating, and hatred are defended by the Bad Guys.
3. In the end, the Good Guys always beat the Bad Guys.

Yes, they’re simple and no, life is not that simple. But that doesn’t make the above points any less true or necessary for a little boy hearing tales of adventure, wonder, chivalry, and derring-do. Moral complexities can wait a few more years.

Taschen Books’ Japanese Cinema has just jumped to the top of my Christmas list.

Until recently, the western world has viewed Japanese cinema through a very narrow prism. For years, Westerners interested in Japanese film had to content themselves with the collected works of Akira Kurosawa, a spotty sampling of films by Kenji Mizoguchi and Yasujiro Ozu, gobs of anime, and badly dubbed monster movies. Many great filmmakers like Mikio Naruse and Keisuke Kinoshita have remained unknown in the West, and Japanese musicals and comedies are hardly known outside Asia. This volume sets the record straight, illustrating an in-depth history of Japanese cinema with vivid posters and stunning photography.

Click here to browse through the book’s pages. At the very least, it’ll make for a gorgeous coffee table book; it’s beautifully laid out with hundreds of striking images from throughout Japan’s cinematic history.

Indigo Bridge Books—aka, Lincoln’s coolest bookstore—has recently announced a graphic novel book club.

The first meeting will take place on July 7, 2009 at 7pm, with Daniel Clowes’ Ghost World being the spotlighted title. The second title to be discussed will be V For Vendetta (and hopefully as a result, more people will come to realize just why the movie was so disappointing).

If you’re on Facebook, you can RSVP here.

Now, all they need to do is organize some anime screenings and a Dungeons & Dragons night or two, and Lincoln’s geeks will have a new hang out.

I’ve written before of my love for George R.R. Martin’s epic A Song of Ice and Fire fantasy series. And two exciting things lie on the horizon for the series. First, Martin is aiming to have the fifth book in the series—A Dance With Dragons—finished and in the hands of readers by year’s end. And second, HBO is moving forward with their adaptation of the series’ first book, A Game of Thrones.

HBO has just announced that Tom McCarthy (The Station Agent, The Visitor) will be directing, and Peter Dinklage will be playing Tyrion Lannister. Now casting Dinklage as Tyrion is an obvious choice in my book. But I’m a little surprised by the choice of McCarthy.

I never would’ve pegged him as a director of dark, violent, adult-oriented fantasy. But one of the book’s greatest strengths is its complex, deeply written characters, and McCarthy has proven more than capable of dealing with such characters in his films. (Seriously, if you haven’t seen The Station Agent, rent it this weekend.)

I’m as big a fan of Hayao Miyazaki as they come, not only because he’s one of the world’s greatest directors and storytellers, but also because of his fierce dedication to his craft. And so, I’m quite excited by not just one, but two treats coming soon from the master.

The first is the domestic release of his latest film, Ponyo on the Cliff by the Sea, which has been described as a return to the simpler storytelling of Miyazaki’s earlier films, such as My Neighbor Totoro. Ponyo will be released in the States on August 14, 2009, and if Pixar’s John Lasseter has anything to say about it, it’ll be the biggest domestic Miyazaki release to date. Which is fine by me.

The second is Starting Point: 1979 - 1996, a collection of Miyazaki’s columns and essays that cover his views on animation, Studio Ghibli, and the creation of such masterpieces as Laputa: Castle in the Sky, My Neighbor Totoro, and Kiki’s Delivery Service. The English version of Starting Point: 1979 - 1996 will be released by Viz on July 7, 2009 (you can preorder now at Amazon). More info can be found at the mighty Twitch.

Honestly, I don’t know how I feel about Neil Gaiman’s books being adapted into movies. On the one hand, I always get excited by the news; Gaiman is one of the my favorite authors, and his literary brand of fantasy, with its pitch-perfect blend of humor, suspense, horror, and mythology, seems perfect for the big screen. But on the other hand, I’ve been underwhelmed by the adaptations that I’ve seen to date, and in some cases (e.g., Stardust), I’ve been profoundly disappointed.

And so, I approach the news that Gaiman’s latest—the Newbery Medal recipient The Graveyard Book—is being made into a film directed by Neil Jordan. I’m somewhat comforted at the choice of Jordan for director, as he’s worked with fantasy before (e.g., The Company Of Wolves). But even so, given the history of Gaiman adaptations, I’m still worried, and especially so with The Graveyard Book, which is one of Gaiman’s lightest and sweetest works.

The book follows the life of Nobody Owens, who, as a very young child, survives his family’s assassination and is adopted by the ghosts living in a graveyard near his home. Told episodically, each chapter follows “Bod” as he grows up to be a young man under the watchful eye of his ghostly guardians and tries to find his place in the world of the living despite living amongst the dead. In other words, the book is basically Gaiman doing what he does best: taking traditional fantasy elements (ghosts, witches, goblins, etc.) and placing them in a “real world” context, with a pinch of secret societies, ancient evils, and mystical devices thrown in for good measure.

Like Stardust, it’s fairly light reading—you can easily make it through the entire book in a single day. But there are parts of it that continue to stick with you long after the final page has been turned, such as the true nature and allegiance of Silas, Bod’s enigmatic guardian; the scenes of the Grey Lady leading the living and the dead in a stately dance; or the city of the ghouls that Bod foolishly visits in a fit of childish rage. And like Stardust, I don’t necessarily think it’s one of Gaiman’s “deepest” works, but it is one that I find myself returning to, and thinking about, more often than the others.

All of which is to say that I hope it fares better than Stardust, and that we’ll finally be able to enjoy a truly decent Gaiman movie.

While getting more info for my recent post concerning the 2009 L’Abri conference, I came across Jerram Barrs’ bio page on Covenant Seminary’s website, and noticed that he has three books that are due out in 2009:

• Through His Eyes: God’s Perspective on Women in the Bible
• The Evangelism of Jesus
• Echoes of Eden: Reflections on Christianity and the Arts

Having attended his sessions at past L’Abri conferences and listened to some of his lectures and sermons at Covenant, I’ve no doubt that the above books will be full of Biblical wisdom, discernment, thoughtfulness, and a spirit of grace.

When she’s not attending to the needs of a certain someone, she carves out some time to work as an editor. Most of the books she works on are academic titles that deal with such fascinating topics as 19th century land rights in Puerto Rico—the sort of stuff that professors write so as to prove that their university didn’t err in giving them tenure. But every so often, a book appears, out of the blue, that promises to be something a little more interesting.

That’s right, my wife’s next project is a book on the good Doctor himself.