Lost empires. Angie Schultz and Natalie Solent have been waxing nostalgic over beloved childhood book series. The content discussed sounds eerily familiar (Pigeon's blood rubies! Volcanos! Canyon de Chelly!), but I don't recognize the book covers. Perhaps there was a similar series, or perhaps all producers of childrens' "cool history and science facts" series know what kids want. I do have fond memories of a book titled The Planet We Live On, which I checked out of the county library branch at every opportunity and kept for as long as possible. There were very cool things in that book, illustrated in a style that worked irresistible enchantment on a young brain.

I do specifically remember having (or borrowing) a wonderful Time-Life series, in particular the volumes on mathematics, human evolution, explorers, the human body, and mountains. Ah, the mountains. I used to look up from that book, as I sat about 7 feet about sea level, and gaze across the endless Karst landscape of my native state, dreaming of climbing the Andes and the Himalayas. (I discovered in adulthood, alas, that even the Rockies would try my wimpy oxygen-exchanging capacities.) I was delighted to discover that the spouse had the same sorts of memories. "Yeah," I said, "there was one picture in that human body book that used to scare the hell out of me everytime I looked at it." (So I was always looking at it, natch.) He knew exactly what I was referring to. "Oh yeah, that one - the black background with the nerves and the staring eyeballs." That one indeed. It was some lady's carefully dissected and displayed nervous system. I wonder if modern children would be too blasé to find that as freaky-deaky as we did.

Angie has a wonderful passage on the questions and confused theories that a child's mind is compelled to spin when adrift with incomplete information. Hers concerned the structure of the earth; I had a similar experience with chromosomes and DNA. We tend to forget that there must be great lacunae in a young child's store of basic physical facts. In my case, I had somehow managed to acquire knowledge of the existence of chromosomes before I had the barest notion of cells. I saw the microphotographs, I knew how many chomosomes I had, I read about the genes. I knew all us living creatures had the stuff - but I didn't know where it was. I remember puzzling to myself, "Well, where are they? Stored somewhere near my heart? In my gut? Under my brain? Like, what exactly do you cut into to find the chromosomes?"

To the best of my knowledge, I have managed to sort out that particular mystery. I'd like to say I heed its lesson when trying to explain things to children. (I try, but have to admit that otherwise I'm simply a terrible teacher. Fortunately the keed's father is a natural pedagogue; much more patient.)

See also Angie's next post down on the Dolorous Circus. It resonates because I always found the circuses and fairs of childhood disturbing and depressing, in exactly the way she describes. (I remember my brother and I running into the yard and scrambling up our "hiding tree" at the threat of a trip to the circus.)

Posted by Moira Breen at October 28, 2003 10:04 AM