There are two important parts of the Christmas holiday; the first, of course, is the Nativity of Our Lord. Second is a focus on family, and children in particular. Christmas puts me, and many others, into a nostalgic mood, thinking back to Christmas Mass, exchanging gifts on Christmas morning, then going over to my grandparents’ house to have dinner and play with my cousins. God willing, I’ll be able to extend these experiences to a new generation, but with last year’s addition of my nephew to the family children are once again part of the Carroll family’s Christmas.
Today’s book isn’t about Christmas, but it’s relevant at this time of year because it is about childhood, Robert Louis Stevenson’s A Child’s Garden of Verses, first published in 1885 but reprinted many times since. Mine is a reprint of an edition illustrated by Jessie Wilcox Smith, whose illustrations are what first caught my eye when I spotted the volume in a bookstore. Also of interest is the author; Stevenson is best known as a prose writer, especially for his adventure story Treasure Island and horror classic Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. Does his talent in prose carry over to poetry?
Honestly, it’s a little difficult to tell. Because children are the intended audience, his metres and rhyme schemes are kept simple, and his subjects are all things of interest to children. The length of the poems varies considerably, from a single couplet to a few pages, but all fairly short. None of this, though, should be taken as a shortcoming, as Stevenson’s verse is consistently charming and pleasant to read. Consider, for instance, “Bed in Summer.”
In winter I get up at night
And dress by yellow candle-light.
In summer, quite the other way,
I have to go to bed by day.
I have to go to bed and see
The birds still hopping on the tree,
Or hear the grown-up people’s feet
Still going past me in the street.
And does it not seem hard to you,
When all the sky is clear and blue,
And I should like so much to play,
To have to go to bed by day?
Poetically, it’s simple as can be. Rhymed couplets of four feet each, except the first line, though its short length and natural language keep it from getting monotonous. Yet, it’s charming because I remember, when I was very young, bed time being a significant concern for me, and in the summer time there was still some light when I had to go to bed – a problem I’m sure was worse for children who lived farther north than me.…