CCBC-Net Archives

Protecting Marie

From: MARVYPIG at aol.com <MARVYPIG>
Date: Fri, 26 Jan 1996 18:08:36 -0500

Sorry I'm chiming in late. The library & book stores here didn't have the book, so my mail order just got in today.
     A book that can be read on many levels, like The Lion, The Witch, and the Wardrobe, is what makes it a "classic", or one we can return to at different points in our life and still find things that ring true, or that we see afresh. Protecting Marie is the kind of book I could have used in my classroom, or in the library for independent reading, because students are at different levels of reasoning & understanding. The clutch in Fanny's stomach when her parents argue makes a child say, "I'm not the only one that has happened to!", and an adult say, "Oh, yes! I'd forgotten about that."
 It could be used to teach
-point of view (we can only see and know what Fanny knows),
-figures of speech such as metaphor: the filing cabinet for all the ephemeral things Fanny holds dear (the young Henry & Ellen as separate entities; the stones and shells of the family as intertwined entities; and Marie, whose fragility and survivorship is symbolic of Fanny),
- the concept of a symbol that, like a leitmotif in music, threads itself throughout a work (the shapes: the triangles that K. Horning noted; the circles [birth, death, rebirth; cylical nature of some relationships e.g.
"Our Mothers, Ourselves"; our Western linear way of seeing versus Eastern cyclical view], or the figure eights that are also symbols for infinity.) I am still puzzling out the angel motif, which has become so prominent in our culture (t.v specials, books, cards, guardian angel pins at the K Mart checkout line).
    What rich discussions a class could have around the topic of aging (myth
& reality, or society's perceptions, or a multicultural look at that topic).
 Even my junior high students enjoyed knowing a bit about Piaget's developmental theories, (testing at home to see if young children always assumed the tall 8 oz. glass held more water than the short fat one, or smiling wisely when an adult character like Henry must go back and revisit an earlier stage [like trust vs. distrust] to REALLY become a grownup, because he and Fanny are negotiating this together. Henry can then sacrifice his painting subject (in which he struggles for control by constantly rearranging
 the broken objects of the past) just as Fanny can sacrifice Marie (& later recreate her). Henry's way to trust comes from loving Fanny, as hers comes from loving Dinner. And what a great independent library-classroom project about pets or favorite animals could be built around this book. Henkes lays the groundwork with William Wegman, Franz Marc, etc. for a poems & illustrations report. One or two classes in the library where the librarian
 introduces reference tools useful for researching a topic, & then teacher & librarian help the students get started. Maybe time in the computer lab for typing the poems? If not these, the book is so sensory/sensual, working with the art teacher to provide illustrations for the book might allow students with weaker verbal or reading skills a chance to shine.
   I felt all of the characters grew in this book. In the first chapter
(Without what: Henry? Nellie?) both parents are pretty flat in characterization. CCBC readers seem angry at both. Did you feel they were more developed as the book progressed? Why are they together? Ellen loves
 the positive side of Henry's perfectionism: he always looks great, his gifts are beautifully wrapped. She struggles with her hair, her meals & gift wrappings are "adequate". Henry loves Ellen's easy grace: he has probably been pulled into doing things he feared (the party?) in the past, and then had fun...just as he capitulates to Dinner's charms, and finds a way out of his painting block. Aren't Fanny & Mary Dribble "the odd couple" too? Don't most children (& many adults) find the image of God (dog spelled backward) awesome/fearful as well as comforting? Is this the light/dark, male/female Yin/Yang?
   And finally, isn't Fanny's naming her fear wonderful? Naming it makes it less fearsome. Is this mastery of a long-held fear the root of her desire to become a linguist? The resolution of so many people's fears at the end of the book may seem too pat to some, but I am reminded of Stephen Crane's poem:
"He drew a circle to shut me out, Rebel, heretic, a thing to flout. But love and I had the will to win. We drew a circle to shut him in!"

Marv Murphy, former jr. high, sr. high, grad. school teacher Sarasota FL email: Marvypig at AOL.com
Received on Fri 26 Jan 1996 05:08:36 PM CST