I just borrowed Lloyd Alexander's The Black Cauldron from the library.
Now it's your turn to ask (incredulously), "Are you seriously telling me that you don't own that book? What credentials do you have to be blogging, let alone writing?"
Let me reassure you--I indeed own this book. I own, in fact, the whole series, but sadly all my books are in boxes at my in-law's house. We did a renovation a year ago, and we haven't retrieved the books. We finally cleaned out the garage, so we could get to the bookshelves, which are finally back in the house. It's a long story.
And, perhaps this book doesn't have the same weight for you as it does for me. Perhaps you would be able to utter the above question devoid of incredulity. But not me. This novel was my FIRST.
My brother read it to me before I could read. Reading was new to him, and at times he took long pauses as he wrestled with a word. I sat fuming. Couldn't he read faster? I had to know what happened next! My brother did voices for each of the characters. A voice for Taran, Assistant Pig-Keeper, for Fflewddur, for Eilonwy.
And a spectacularly guttural voice for Gurgi, to say fantastic things like, "Oh, great, brave, and wise master! Gurgi is thankful! His poor tender head is spared from terrible dashings and crashings!"
I think I can manage Taran (Assistant Pig-Keeper) and Fflewddur, and I know I've got Eilonwy down pat. But I think I'm going to have to call my brother to do the part of Gurgi. It just wouldn't be the same.
I always thought it normal for a big brother to read to his younger sister (my brother is only three years my senior), but once I had kids, I realized how spectacular that nightly routine really was. I owe my brother a debt of gratitude. Taran, Eilonwy and especially Gurgi, filtered through my brother's imagination, are the reason I write today. Thanks B!
Do you remember your First?