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March 6, 2006 -- Thoughts on Hurry Home, Candy and The
Whipping Boy
I've
been meaning to blog for a long time, but it always seems I get my best ideas
when I'm too tired to write them down. I've been mildly ill this weekend -- not
sick enough to be miserable, and well enough to answer email and process orders
--just sick enough to not feel guilty about spending a lot of time flat on my
back reading. I decided I'd catch up on some Newbery Medal and Honor books I
hadn't read yet, and wound up rereading a couple I'd read before -- Hurry
Home, Candy, by Meindert DeJong, and The Whipping Boy, by Sid
Fleischman. The Whipping Boy was light, funny, and just right, a quick
read. Although most of us wince at the injustice of a lad pulled from the
streets to take the punishment for everything the naughty prince does, it is
satisfying to see Prince Brat (as he's not so fondly known by his subjects) get
his comeuppance and also learn to see himself as others see him. Knowing the
truth about himself motivates him to start changing into what a good prince
ought to be -- someone his people actually want to be king someday. And I like
to believe that when he starts applying himself to his studies and thinking of
others at least as much as himself, he will no longer be bored.
When I
reread Hurry Home Candy, I was again pulled into the mind frame of a
small puppy, pulled from his mother and exposed to all the frightening and
exciting sights, smells, sounds, and objects that seem so normal to us. And we
certainly learn to see the dreaded broom as Candy saw it -- an object that could
cause fear so powerful that it almost kept him from food and home when he was
starving. I have to marvel at how DeJong brings us so thoroughly into Candy's
mind. We feel his happiness and love for his children, his fear and loneliness
after he is lost and has bigger dogs chasing him away while he searches for
food, his initial despair in the pound until the old attendant gave him hope
again, and his utter terror running down the halls of the hospital to escape the
janitors' brooms. When Candy finally escapes to the street, he runs toward
the pound, where he felt love. But the cars in the street frustrate him. He is
afraid of them. He pauses, where his mournful howl is heard by a retired sea
captain who is sketching people. The captain begins to sketch him, from a
distance. But some children drop some candy on the sidewalk and a shopkeeper
comes to sweep it up. Fear of the broom drives Candy straight into the traffic
and the captain dashes out to rescue him, and picks him up. We experience
Candy's ambivalence when Old Captain Carlson tries to win him over. Candy wants
to trust but is so afraid to trust. But the captain is persistent and patient,
and when he discovers Candy's terror at the sight of a broom, he throws his
broom into a tree. Candy now knows he has a home to protect and a master
he loves. For a whole week! Until the fateful night Captain Carlson and Candy
walk to the old bridge -- the bridge where his children had first lost him, and
the captain and Candy are both shot and wounded by bank robbers who were hiding
out near the bridge. Again, Candy is on the run while the captain is in the
hospital. As the book winds down, you know how it will end and you are very
happy to see that Candy will make it home -- if he can overcome his fear of the
broom behind the food dish. The reader guesses the broom is there when
Candy, starved and limping, with little strength left, hesitates and won't come
and eat the wonderful feast the captain told the maid to leave by the open door
when she left for the day. When the Captain hears Candy's howls, he
struggles to stand up with his crutches and he goes out to call
Candy. But Candy doesn't come to the food. As the disappointed captain
turns to go in, he sees the broom. "Suddenly he was in a towering rage.
'That woman!' He muttered savage, violent things; he swung himself toward
the broom and grabbed it. Somehow he balanced himself with one crutch and with
fierce, wrathful strength swung the broom far from him. It twisted and spun away
into a tree. The man muttered things at it and violently swung himself into the
house, but behind him he left the door wide open." (p. 241HarperTrophy 1981
edition). The book ends in another three pages, but I couldn't possibly sum it
up without ruining it. I have never had a dog. I know I don't have time to
properly care for one. But I feel as though I've entered into a dog's soul
through this book. And no one who loves dogs should miss it -- even grown-ups.
©2006, Barbara Radisavljevic
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