'Tis the Season When Children Star

It's the time of year when children dominate in public media and private ceremonies, symbols of hope and innocence to be showered with gifts. We forget how recently children became "economically worthless but emotionally priceless," as sociologist Viviana Zelizer has said.  Even in early 20th century America, children were economic assets who worked in fields and factories; they were soldiers and sexual partners; they were traded in marriage by families seeking financial and social gain; and they were regularly parents themselves in their teens. In many places in the world, children still perform roles today's Americans believe should be reserved for adults--and they are still political pawns in deadly adult conflicts, as the recent headlines about the Pakistani Taliban's school massacre prove. So it seems especially apropos now to remember one of our earliest and most popular icons of the child as innocent source of joy: child star Shirley Temple, who died just this year at age 85. Some of the curly-topped moppet's 1930s-era Christmas-themed movies used to be seasonal TV fare, including Heidi, I'll Be Seeing You, Bright Eyes (with the signature song "On the Good Ship Lollipop"), and Stowaway with its final Christmas scene. Now little Shirley is the subject of a new book, The Little Girl Who Fought the Great Depression by John F. Kasson. Yes, this is one little girl who was economically priceless (to the movie studios), emotionally priceless to a nation seeking optimism in hard times, and politically priceless to leaders like President Franklin D. Roosevelt, who publicly enlisted Shirley in his "politics of cheer" to back economic revival programs. Kasson also credits Shirley's impact with a new view of the child as coddled consumer, of children cared for through the purchase of things. To borrow from her hit debut song, "Baby, Take a Bow" for the seasonal shopping frenzy, Shirley.  To see a review of Kasson's book, go to http://bostonreview.net/books-ideas/judith-levine-john-kasson-shirley-temple

Remembering Mystery Author P.D. James

Some mystery authors transcend the genre in style and originality, and P.D. James, the British "Queen of Crime," who passed away at age 94 this November, is one example. Her last book, Death Comes to Pemberley, was published in 2011 when she was already in her 90s and combined two of her passions, which happily coincide with mine: Jane Austen's social novels and detective fiction. But I fell in love with her poetical Scotland Yard detective Adam Dalgliesh long ago, from his first appearance in Cover Her Face, published in 1962, through 13 other Dalgliesh books, including the award-winning Shroud for a Nightingale, The Black Tower, and A Taste for Death, as well as the last Dalgliesh mystery, The Private Patient, published in 2008. Another favorite was Unsuitable Job for a Woman, which introduced female detective Cordelia Gray, an inspiration/aspiration for female mystery fans back in 1972. James provided this deceptively simple definition of a mystery novel in a 2011 NPR interview: "What we have is a central mysterious crime, which is usually murder. We have a closed circle of suspects, with means, motive and opportunity for the crime. We have a detective who can be amateur or professional who comes in rather like an avenging deity to solve it. And by the end, we do get a solution." The difference between James and most other genre authors is how masterfully she led us on the literary journey through twisted psyches and plots to solution. James, who said she drew inspiration from grande dames of mystery such as Dorothy L. Sayers, Margery Allingham and Ruth Rendell, her longtime friend, has earned her own special place in the mystery writing pantheon, and her voice will be missed. For one obituary, see http://www.npr.org/blogs/thetwo-way/2014/11/27/366997584/british-mystery-novelist-p-d-james-dies-at-94

Reading for Perspective on Our Wintry Storms

As I write, it's a rainy day in Southern California, which is what passes for "a major storm" here but nothing like the paralyzing snowstorms in the Northeast. Wintry weather events are reminders of nature's power and our vulnerability despite climate-controlled environments, fossil-fuel-powered transport and electronically-dependent communications. But such storms were even more devastating in the past. For example, younger family members can gain perspective with a childhood favorite, The Long Winter by Laura Ingalls Wilder, which is one of the more exciting Little House books as well as a fairly accurate portrayal of the terrible "Snow Winter" of 1880-1881 in the Dakotas. Or they can read Blizzard!--The Storm That Changed America by Jim Murphy. It's about the East Coast blizzard of March 1888, when wind-driven snow accumulated in 50-foot drifts in some places and lead to 400 deaths, 200 in New York City alone. The disruption of above-ground telegraph/telephone and rail led to changes such as underground communications lines and the first underground subway in Boston. For adult readers, there is the moving The Children's Blizzard by David Laskin. This cautionary tale covers the tragic Schoolhouse Blizzard that suddenly blasted the Great Plains in the afternoon of January 12, 1888, after an unseasonal warm morning that had schoolchildren forgoing heavy coats and gloves. It was called the Schoolhouse Blizzard because so many of the 500 or so dead were schoolchildren trying to walk home from one-room schoolhouses through blinding snow, with many found frozen just yards from shelter. For more historical perspectives, read about some other surprising weather impacts on human events: http://www.weather.com/news/news/7-strange-ways-weather-has-changed-history-20130921#/1