A Note from the Management: In honor of Banned Books Week (Sept. 21st-28th) and A. Bitterman missing-in-action, the Reading Reptile's Marketing Department succeeded in soliciting New Book Reviews from none other than the Attorney General himself, John Ashcroft! The following question was posed to the former Senator from Missouri: "Of the recent and upcoming releases, which children's books do you think should be banned in the interest of National Security?"

New Juvenile Fiction Reviews ... from the Dept. of Justice

I would first like to extend my thanks to the Reading Reptile for this providential opportunity. So often, our freedoms and those of our children are threatened by the freedoms of others. This is a difficult problem for a child to understand - that we must protect our freedom at any cost, even if it means stemming freedom itself! In some ways, the freest among us are those who are willing to give up the most freedoms. The freedom to read should be tempered by a healthy distrust of the freedom of expression and a firm belief in the freedom to bear arms. Many a righteous man has been undone by the pages of an untoward text. I hope that my humble offerings below might save just one child from taking the wrong path, and I encourage you to create your own list of dangerous books and share them with me on my website, www.usdoj.gov. -- John Ashcroft

Summerland
by Michael Chabon (Hyperion, ages 9-up)
Michael Chabon is what they call a "hot" author in adult fiction. Evidently, he won the Pulitzer Prize (a red flag right there!) for his book, The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier & Clay, which, according to my staffers, glorified homosexuality. I didn’t read it. I did read a few chapters of Summerland, Chabon’s first book for children – but it was so-ooo long (over 300 pages!) A decent children’s book should be no more than 150 pages, morally speaking. Furthermore, I was informed by my deputy chief of staff that although Summerland is well-crafted, adventurous, and Good does prevail over Evil, it suggests that the game of baseball, America’s game, was created by Satan! AND, apparently there are fairies and giants, and many other creatures associated with the Dark Arts, all throughout this book. Shame on Chabon.

The Thief Lord
by Cornelia Funke (Scholastic, ages 9-up)
Another book of indecent length. I am told that Scholastic is trying to position this book as "the next Harry Potter." We DO NOT need another Harry Potter. So many souls have already been lost to that profane series of books. I was recently assured by Justice Thomas, however, who seems to have quite a bit of free time and indulges rather heavily in pre-adolescent literature, that The Thief Lord "is no Harry Potter." He said that the orphans in this book, though engaged in a suitably rendered escape through the labyrinthine canals of a foreboding Venice backdrop, lack the compelling qualities of Harry Potter, and encounter almost no magic. This was encouraging. But Clarence added that there was a less-than-flattering depiction of a faith-based organization in the book, which he described as "prison-like." This is unacceptable.

Lemony Snicket: The Unauthorized Autobiography
by Lemony Snicket (Harper, ages 42-up)
Although this is not a particularly new book, I am eager to voice my disdain for this "Lemony Snicket" character, and his smug campaign of misery. His brand of blasphemy is conditioning an entire generation of young readers to find amusement in the pretend suffering of others. I am not amused. I have launched an extensive investigation of Mr. Snicket in an effort to establish evidence that he is, in fact, Daniel Handler, a known supporter of Dianne Feinstein. I have also initiated legislation, hereby known as the "Homer Price Act," that will make the public dissemination of irony among juveniles a criminal offense. We can not secure a nation in which its children are smarter than their parents!

Coraline
by Neil Gaiman (Harper, ages 10-up)
I actually read this entire book, as it was of the proper length, and I had no one to brief me. I had taken a weekend at home, in Springfield, Missouri, to relax with my family. But, upon opening this book, the weekend suddenly turned into a series of hourly devotionals with my wife and children. Each chapter was more terrifying than its precursor, and my very faith became strained in unfamiliar ways. I was scared out of my loafers. Against the advice of my family, I felt compelled by a divine source to read on, to do battle with this heathen text. I slept fitfully with my .38 under the pillow, plagued by Coraline’s demons and my own nightmares. One night, I felt a hand brush my cheek. I sat up in the darkness. Something weightless yet fully present sat tentatively at the foot of my bed, a vaporous human form. It turned to face me. Where its eyes should have been, there were two shiny black buttons sewn into the sockets. I reached under the pillow and discharged my weapon repeatedly into the specter. I woke up in a sweat, my wife screaming, the gun smoking in my hand. I had just killed Mel Carnahan, again. We burned Coraline after breakfast the next morning. No kid should have to go through that.

Hoot
by Carl Hiassen, Knopf, ages 10-up)
After a morning briefing on Carl Hiaasen and Hoot, I was dampened in spirit, but strengthened in my determination to dismantle the juggernaut of leftist environmental laws that are restricting free trade and the growth of America’s business interests. I have long-despised Hiaasen’s writings, and I consider him a pornographer. Although he has refrained in Hoot from his usual vulgarity in an attempt to capture a juvenile audience, the book is nothing more than a thinly veiled handbook on eco-terrorism. But it’s totally unbelievable. What sort of cereal box God would turn a blind eye on a million-dollar corporate investment for the sake of a rare, insignificant species of owl and some ratty agnostic youngsters? Please.

Dear Mr. Bezos:
Please forgive me for this boldly unsolicited and untimely intrusion. I am sure that since your recent appointment as Time's Man of the Year you have been deluged by well-wishers and fair-weather friends, and have found yourself forced to establish strict priorities in response. With that in mind, let me assure you that I am neither a well-wisher nor a fair-weather friend. I am employed (on a contract basis) as a children's book reviewer by the Reading Reptile in Kansas City, Missouri. Although the Reading Reptile has a national reputation as one of the most dangerous bookstores in the country, and is feared (thanks to me) by most of the major publishing houses in New York, the store is an anachronism and poses no threat to you, sir, or your vision of a hands-free economy. The owners of the Reading Reptile possess little, if any, business sense, and their vast knowledge and love of children's literature is squandered in their tiresome adherence to the physical world and their deluded pursuit of meaningful, community-based commerce. They don't even own a computer. Still, they are my employers, and I owe them a review. And inasmuch as I resent these people for dragging me along in their childish and quixotic rebellion against an inevitable future -- what my ex-wife once described as "the dominant trend of an uncircumspect technological progress predicated solely upon the success of its own replication and its ability to replace political freedoms with material freedoms in the interstices of its own advance, thus securing the transfer of power from the people to the corporate interest and the complete transformation of the citizen to consumer"; I am nothing, if not loyal. I am their squire. And it is on these terms that I approach you now. I come in advance of the enemy, my employer, with an offer of redemption.
Yours truly,
A. Bitterman

TO: a.bitterman@moabpublib.org
FROM: jeff@amazon.com
May 7th, 2000

Dear Mr. Bitterman:
I have no idea what you're talking about. Are you a real person?
Jeff Bezos

TO: jeff@amazon.com
FROM: a.bitterman@moabpublib.org
May 8th, 2000

Dear Mr. Bezos:
Thank you for responding. Allow me to clarify. Your coronation in Time Magazine, as its Man of the Year, contained an irony, the scope of which I am still trying to comprehend. While I was still in prison, I read and reread that article, certain that I had overlooked something. I sifted through the details of your childhood. I memorized your business plan. I combed the pages of your rise to power. But it wasn't there. Nowhere in the tale of the tenbilliondollarman@amazon.com, the man who revolutionized the bookselling industry, the man who has invented the wheel that will inevitably crush the likes of the Reading Reptile, nowhere was there even the feeblest attempt to highlight your love of books. It is extraordinary, that in your finest hour, the subject never came up. Surely, you possess a fiery passion for literature. Permit me then, on behalf of the Reading Reptile, to offer you the opportunity to express it in our humble newsletter.
Yours Truly,
A. Bitterman, a real person

TO: a.bitterman@moabpublib.org
FROM: jeff@amazon.com
May 8th, 2000

Dear Mr. Bitterman:
Why didn't you say so! I see what you're saying now. Why didn't you just ask me, instead of being all creepy about it? Of course I love books. They're really easy to ship. I especially like the new ones. They're really hard on the outside, and I can discount them like crazy because they're so expensive. You know, you're right about that Time Magazine article. I remember at one point during the interview I was in one of my gigantic warehouses with the Time guy and I closed my eyes and took this really deep breath. It was one of those really unconstricted moments you know and I remember saying, "Books. There's nothing like the smell of new books." I think that should have been in the article. I don't know, maybe it freaked him out. I'm kind of glad he didn't pick up on it though -- my passion for literature I mean. It might have created the wrong impression. You know, Mr. Bitterman, Amazon's not just a bookstore anymore! Nope. It's time for Jeff Bezos to shed his literary skin and get down and dirty with the garment industry, the hardware fellas, the appliance and electronics guys. Well, I hope this resolves your irony thing. You seem like a thoughtful person.
Jeff Bezos

TO: jeff@amazon.com
FROM: a.bitterman@moabpublib.org
May 9th, 2000

Dear Mr. Bezos:
I know you are busy and perhaps I've been beating around the bush, but indulge me one step further, before you shed your literary skin. Your keen sense of smell is truly a gift, but I was thinking more about the inside part of the books. You know, like the writing part. I was hoping you might share some thoughts about books you've read, and, in this case, children's books. Some of your favorites, say.
Yours Truly,
A. Bitterman

TO: a.bitterman@moabpublib.org
FROM: jeff@amazon.com
May 9th, 2000

Dear Mr. Bitterman:
You mean for your newsletter? You bet. But, I have to tell you I was pretty precocious as a child. My favorite book growing up was Be My Guest, by Conrad Hilton. I used to collect copies of it. The Hilton Hotels used to give them away. So I built this really cool little warehouse in our backyard when I was about eight and every time I got a new copy of Be My Guest I would reread it from cover to cover and then stow it away in my little warehouse. I had 1,312 copies of that book by the time I was 14. So I read a lot as a kid, but I guess I only read one book. I used to have my buddies over and one of us would pretend to be Conrad Hilton while the rest of us packed up his books pretending like we were going to ship them to his hotels all over the world. One of us would always say, "Mr. Hilton, you know you're not making any money on these books." And Hilton would always say, "Sometimes you have to lose money to make friends." Isn't it funny how life is like this circle? Well, anyhow, thanks for the memories, Mr. Bitterman, and good luck to you. If you ever need another job, or bail money or something ...
Jeff Bezos

A Note from the Management: Our usual book reviewer, A. Bitterman, is presently on assignment in a mental institution. This newsletter has languished without reviews for too long, so we've invited a very special guest to shed his powerful insights on some current offerings in the kids' book world. It is our great pleasure to welcome the man who some have described as "the Slobodan Milosevic of American bookselling," Lenny Riggio! Take it away Lenny!

Welcome to Lenny Riggio's Café Americain

No reservations are required

Wow! Gosh, I don't know who Slobodan Milosevic is, but you can bet I'll check my computer back at the office to see if we stock any of his books! Wait a minute, didn't he write The Unbearable Lightness of Beans? I loved that book, it was hilarious.

Well, I'm flattered. But enough about me, let's get right to it. As you well know, my passion is books. I love books. I don't care if it's a textbook, a novel, a cookbook, or heck, even a kiddie book! If it sells, I love it! I don't even have to read them anymore. I just go to my computer and punch up a title and, voila, there it is! And if the numbers look good, I love it! Immediately! More than if I actually read it! When the Reading Reptile asked me to step in for A. Bitterman, I jumped at the chance. Those guys at the Reptile are doing something right and I want a piece of that action! That's just the kind of guy I am. When I see something I want, I take it. I'm no stooge either. I know those Reptiles like to give me a hard time. I know they think I'm an affront to their very existence. I mean look at their clothes, and that store. It's like the Beverly Hillbillies in there. They must be starving their kids to stay in business. But I respect that. That's grit!

And when I received their little letter in the mail, with their little letterhead and the logo from their little store, pleading for my contribution to their little newsletter, I'll be honest with you - there were tears in my eyes. I didn't know there were any little stores left. I immediately cancelled my 11 o'clock meeting with the anti-trust lawyers from the Attorney General's Office and got right to work on these book reviews. I spent the better part of an hour clicking my mouse to find what I consider the best kiddie books of this year so far. To me, a good book is like a good meal -- popular, expensive and deductible. With that in mind, I decided to create a "menu" of kiddie books. So, with no further adieux, welcome to Lenny's Café Americain. Here's lookin' at you, kiddies! Bon Apetite!

Appetizers

Naomi Judd's Love Can Build a Bridge, $15.95
(by Naomi Judd & Suzanne Duranceau, HarperCollins, served best with Pepsid AC.)
"Love" is my middle name! Lenny "Lovemeister" Riggio. And nothing sets the mood for a meal better than a little music by the Judds. And this sure-fire bestseller comes with a cassette tape! When I read the synopsis of this book, (on Barnes & Noble.com) I was moved. I met a homeless person once too, just like Naomi, and it made me sad. I had my secretary send him a gift certificate. I can't write songs like Naomi Judd, but if I could, I'd make it into a book too and sell a ton of them. You know, to make the world a better place!

Dr. Laura Schlessinger's Why Do You Love Me?, $15.95
(by Dr. Laura Schlessinger, with Martha Lambert and Daniel McFeeley, HarperCollins, served best with monkey brains and Dean's French Onion Dip.)
There it is again - Love! I love Dr. Laura. I often dine alone in my office so I can listen to Dr. Laura on the radio humiliating the masses. It makes me feel nicer somehow. I respect anyone who can aggrandize themselves at the expense of a dysfunctional, star-struck populace. This is Dr. Laura's first crack at kiddie books, and evidently it shows a softer side of her megalomaniacal personality. A pity really. But lucrative for moi. Enjoy it if you must!

Main Course

Swine Lake, $15.95
(by James Marshall and Maurice Sendak, HarperCollins, served best in aspic.)
Pork is my favorite! And when Maurice Sendak talks, I listen. I don't know about this James Marshall guy, except for that he's dead. Which could be a plus marketing-wise, especially with Sendak on board. But who cares? If HarperCollins ponies up the right display fee, I'll be serving this book ten-high on my finest oak tables on the first floor at 15% off! It may not be kosher, but presentation is everything!

Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets, $16.00
(by J.K. Rowling, Scholastic, served best with moaning myrtle and brazil nuts.)
If there's one book I should read this year it should be this one, the sequel to one of the biggest selling kiddie books ever. But there's no time! What with meeting after meeting, lawsuit after lawsuit, what can I do? No matter. As long as it's in the computer, any one of my thousands of uninformed and underpaid employees can find it, probably. I just hope Scholastic sues the pants off Amazon.com over the distribution rights on this book so I can destroy the "rainforest" (ha, ha!) once and for all! If I play my cards right, Harry Potter could be the best thing that's happened to me since Borders sold out!

Dessert

Rushmore, $17.95
(by Lynn Curlee, Scholastic, served best with a shot of Jagermeister.)
My favorite thing to do after a good meal is talk about myself! And this is the perfect book for that! When my parents came over from the Old Country they had to scratch out a living, and I resented it. But I'll never forget our one family vacation to Mt. Rushmore. It was way before computers and we were standing there under that great monument quiet as mice, in awe. It was the first time I heard my mother stop talking in eight years. My father laid his hand on my shoulder and said: "Leonard, we are very poor. We have not much money to go to these places like this, to see these things that we would like. We have been grateful that there exist libraries in America for us to see these places in books. I have seen many pictures of this, the Rushmore Mountain, in books. I have looked forward to this trip for many years. But now I see that no picture in no book can never take the place of being there. They are lies, these books. I want you to promise me, Leonard, that when you grow up, you will destroy the publishing industry and bend it to your will." That was priceless. For everything else, there's Mastercard! Enjoy your meal!

"MADONNA WANNABE"

TRANSCRIPT “THE CHARLIE ROSE SHOW”

Madonna interview, AIR DATE: Nov 31st, 2003

[Jazzy music opens the show. Charlie looks gravely across the table at Madonna]

CR: Pop music icon. Movie star. Diva. International sex symbol. Studio mogul. Blacklisted by the Vatican – and now this.

[Charlie holds up a copy of Madonna's new children's book, “The English Roses” ]

CR: Why?

[Madonna clutches her chest as if wounded and slumps face first on the table. Chuckles from off camera.]

CR: What?

MD: What yourself. Come on Charlie, so what? I like sex. I like taking communion. I like big dogs. I like money. I like being famous. And I luh-uhv my kids. Get over it.

CR: You mean Lourdes and Rocco?

MD: No duh.

CR: So you wrote “The English Roses” for them?

MD: Yeah, but not just for them, Charlie. For all kids. All over the world.

CR : A gift, from Madonna…

[Charlie gestures dramatically]

MD: I'm not hearing sarcasm, am I Charlie? Cause if I am, I'm gonna come over there and break your face.

[Charlie raises his hands in mock defense]

CR: Not at all. I said gift, I mean gift.

MD: Well, it's true. This is my gift to the children of the world. Did you know we're printing the book in 80 different languages?

CR: I didn't know that.

MD: Did you even read the damn thing?

CR: Of course. From cover to cover. I…I, well, quite honestly, I like to act stupid sometimes. It helps viewers perceive me as an ordinary, earnest sort of guy, instead of a glib, vampiric celebrity-sniffing insider.

MD: What it is! You're alright, Charlie!

[Charlie and Madonna high-five across the table]

CR: No, I really enjoyed the book, and I wanted to see if we could take it apart a little bit, to show its true depths. I think that some people might misunderstand it superficially as an exploitative, emotionally callow work of hair-raising diletantism.

MD: Right. I mean, that's part of the whole thing, Charlie. I knew I'd have to wage that battle from the start. And just writing the book was an act of courage. Which is something I think we need to nurture in our kids.

CR: Courage.

[Charlie nods, drinks, and assumes a serious tone]

CR: September 11 th . Buildings fall. The world changes in the blink of an eye. You change. I change. Our kids change. Our pets change - it's all in this book, isn't it?

MD: Yeah, definitely. That's why I start the book with a question: “Have you ever heard of the English Roses?” It's like:

“Have you ever heard of the Taliban, or al Quaeda?” The answer

is no. The four girls in the book – Nicole, Amy, Charlotte and

Grace – they're the English Roses.

CR: But there's another girl in the story.

MD: Yeah, Binah. The English Roses, they don't like Binah because she's beautiful and smart. They're threatened by her.

CR: So they sort of decide to…put a…fatwah out on her?

MD: Exactly! They're like radical fundamentalists. Binah is a metaphor for America . I personally think – and I know I'm probably gonna catch it for this – but I really believe that we're all born terrorists, and we have to learn how to be civilized. That's what this book is, Charlie, on one level – it's a confession and a plea to all the little terrorists out there to get a clue!

CR: Confession.

[Charlie takes another sip and leans forward solemnly]

CR: You were born Roman Catholic. You've been condemned by the Pope. The Pope is dying. The Church is in the throes of scandal. It's all in this book, yes?

MD: Obviously. On another level.

CR: How so?

MD: Well, Binah is really me. She's beautiful and smart and sexy. But there's a suffering side to her, that no one understands.

CR: Because she lost her mother – like you did as a child.

MD: Right. And so Nicole and the English Roses actually represent the group of nuns in my grade school who tried to make me feel guilty for being beautiful. And if you look real close at the book, you'll notice a little mouse in almost all the pictures.

CR: I didn't notice that.

MD: Yeah, that's the Pope. The Mouse Pope, poking out of his little Vatican hole in the baseboards of Nicole's house. Some people think the mouse is me, like my spirit narrator-voice or whatever. But it's really the Pope. And that's what makes the ending so powerful, when you realize it's the Pope trying to take credit for Binah's salvation, even though he actually tried to orchestrate her demise.

CR: I see that now. I have never considered you “mousy”.

MD: Mice are not sexy.

CR: Sex.

[Charlie takes another swig and leans back with his hands flat on the table. His eyelids quiver.]

CR: You navigated the Reagan years and single-handedly reinvented the sexual revolution of the ‘60's and ‘70's. You hijacked the bravado of David Bowie in the fuselage of Marilyn Monroe, and sent a whole generation of parents back to the drawing board. It's in this book too, isn't it?

MD: Oh yeah, majorly. Binah, she's not a virgin you know. But she's not slutty either. The English Roses are slutty, but they are virgins. And they can't deal with it. It's like a Freudian Cinderella thing. Binah's still Prince-material, even if she's not a virgin. And when the other girls finally see their hypocrisy, well Binah feels like a virgin. For the very first time.

CR: Amazing. So, it's all in here – sex, religion, politics. And I understand that this is just the first of five books for children? You're serious about this.

MD: True blue. There's nothing out there, Charlie. Kids are still reading books from like 50 years ago. And barely any of them are even movies. That's messed up.

CR: Madonna, as always, it's been a pleasure.