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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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