Mr. Doodle's Dog

Staying Well-Informed

Gimlet: Been a while, hasn't it?

We've kept busy: reading, canvassing, painting, ratting, patrolling for errant cats, walking and riding in cars ... it's a full life when you're involved in puppy punditry. Yet, some excellent books have crossed our paws, and one in particular struck me as particularly relevant in this political season.

Nigel: I know the book you're referring to. It's an excellent and uplifting read, and the illustrations are top-notch.

Gimlet: Presidential year, candidates, surprises, disappointments ... time to sit down, readjust our collars and harnesses, turn on the Canem Lie Down! Detectors and recall a time of wise leadership and wise dogs. What better book to grab when you're headed for that comfy chair with foot stool than "First Dog Fala," written by Elizabeth Van Steenwyk, with illustrations by Michael G. Montgomery.

Nigel: Can you say "grand"?

Fala being none other than the most famous canine occupant of the White House, Fala Roosevelt, his master being the most famous of Good and New Dealers, Franklin Delano Roosevelt. I sense a Rooseveltian theme here...

Gimlet: That's pronounced "Roaz-uh-velt" at least by Franklin's branch of the family. Fala, a black Scottie, is Roosevelt's Puck, his pal, his Dutch Courage ... Ok, maybe not Dutch Courage, although the libations flowed freely in that White House. Fala was short for Murray the Outlaw of Fala Hill, after one of FDR's Scottish ancestors. Van Steenwyk deals out the facts and the lore about the Fala/FDR partnership in a most amiable way... You know that expression "don't let the facts get in the way?" well, she lets the facts pave the way. That's a throwback to the good old days, isn't it? Facts!

Nigel: Here's another: the Secret Service had a code name for Fala ... the Informer. That's because wherever FDR was, Fala was sure to be in the vicinity. Talk about "transparent government."

Gimlet: One of the book's strengths is the artful way in which the facts don't get in the way. They're there for young minds. Did we mention this would be considered a "children's book"? Dogs will enjoy it, too. The dog audience is usually forgotten ... but we're fond of this Fala tale because it does put one in 1940s Washington, in the White House, with FDR ... aside from the rationing of dog biscuits, what a place to be!

Nigel: On a WPA note, the Michael G. Montgomery's oils remind me just a tad of Thomas Hart Benton. And his depiction of Fala is more influenced by history and fable than by actual likeness... I think he caught more of Fala's nature than his likeness. You'd appreciate that, Gimlet, since you're a bit of an expressionist.

Gimlet: Sometimes, I'm Ab-Ex. Benton was a ... Regionalist, which jibes with this book's Fala rendition. There's a lot of fluidity here.

Nigel: Flowing right into our comfortable chairs, and digging right into our awaiting books, Gimlet and I suggest you pick up this book for the terriers and children on your list. FDR buffs will find a soft spot for it, too.

Her World, And Welcome To It

Jennie has the world at her paws. But sometimes, that's not enough. Gimlet Rose commiserates and Nigel opines.

Alfred Hitchcock has been on my mind lately.
He was the sly cat with the ball of yarn. A man who delighted in dangling his prey and delicious, unexpected, visual angles.
Here's an angle for you: a Sealyham (that's Hitchcock's treasured breed) named Jennie has everything, but finds it amounts to nothing, at least in her jaded terrier eyes.

So she sets off to discover what she's missing.

What do you think happens? Oh, no, not that. Too mundane. Use your imagination. Maurice Sendak did. He crafted Jennie with bits of himself, and maybe a few hairs of Cary Grant's mane. Cary was at his best under Hitchcock's direction. And why? Because Hitchcock saw the turmoil and darkness beneath the good looks.

Jennie will remind you of Hitchcock, Grant and Alice in Wonderland. She's that compelling a sorceress, and that dynamic a dog. Her dilemma is worthy of a Greek play. I must confess I have a new respect for Sealyhams after traveling with her through her experiences.

Yes, more Alice and Lewis Carroll. What was Maurice Sendak thinking? The ol' imagination again...

Wait. I'll get the book ...

 

We really need another set of bookcases. I'd apply for an endowment, but I know times are tough.

 

If I read a bit, and then close my eyes, I can travel with Jennie in her world. It's a place of ... like, Wonderland, it's a place of distortion. Our lives can appear so ordinary to us. We do things by rote, and seldom stop to change our pace, much less ourselves.

It would take a Sealyham of Hitchcockian bravado to navigate a new world, especially when her own world is ... perfect. It takes a self-possessed terrier to open the gate and leave a secure existence

I couldn't do it.

Nigel: But I could. And did.

Gimlet: Nigel...

Nigel: You closed your eyes to visualize Jennie, and here I am. I've been reading a lot, too, and watching Hitchcock. He was always one of my favorites. "Suspicion," Monkeyface?  Wonderful.

But Jennie? I've met her. She's quite something. She's happy in her world. I won't spoil the suspense and divulge what she encounters and her fateful decision. Someone might sue me, and then I'd be forced to countersue and you know my love of the law ... But Jennie ... ah, just like Joseph Cotten, I am infatuated and drawn into her sphere. Or is it Sendak who beckons me? Did Jennie inspire him, or did she draw him into her "perfect world" so that he could draw her?

The perfect existence is one of which we are blissfully unaware. We are unaware of the envy of our friends, the utter flummoxing of our peers. True happiness is being at peace with one's self. Trust me. I know.

Jennie discovers all of that. And to think this is often referred to as a "children's book."

Wouldn't Hitchcock get a chuckle out of that.

We 'egret to inform you ... the beauty is overwhelming

The Very Image of Geometric Elegance
Wee Review of "Charles Harper's Birds & Words"
by Tom Cat-Jones

 

Jacket of "Charles Harper's BIrds & Words" by Charles Harper, 1972. Foreword by Todd Oldham, 2008.

Who better than a vagabond black cat to review a sublime bit of birdery and art?

I'm Tom Cat-Jones, and I'm a friend of Joe the Cat's. We went to art school together; Joe took the path of photography and I majored in dark room roguery.

Joe has hired me as a reporter and producer for Mr. Doodle's Dog. I'm no Henry Fielding, or even an Albert Finney, but I do know my wildlife. Dark rooms taught me that, well before the Digital Age.

No art critic beneath this black frock coat and matching whiskers, but then the artistry of Charles 'Charley" Harper needs no words.

And words you will find little of in this book. They're unnecessary. They would weigh the soaring plummage and tinker toy skeletons down. These birds dance their trapezoid tangoes and flamingo fandangoes until the viewer soars with them.

Notice the white wisps announcing the Snowy Egret? He looks like a white-turbaned  Arab. We have a neighborhood egret named Fred; now I see Fred in an entirely different view. Perhaps I should bow to him.

What about "Cardinal"?

Harper's cardinal inspires more devotion than his red-robed counterpart. No shoes on this bird. He's all finch and no grinch. Sunflower seeds in 60s Space Age pattern.

Cactus wren, on skull. Can even a bird navigate on such legs? Harper's birds can.

The birds fly on and on ... each page and bird an "ooh" and "aaahh".

How can even a feline vagabond summon the words for such a collection? I can't. Time for me to walk away on my little cat feet and open up my copy of "Charles Harper's Birds & Words." Birdfeed for the soul.

--Tom Cat-Jones