Title: Roomrimes
Author: Sylvia Cassedy
Illustrator: Michele Chessare
Publisher: Thomas Y. Crowell
Date: 1987
Length: 72 pages
ISBN: 0-690-04467-4 or 4466-6
Quote: “The keep is where the keys
are kept, / the ring, the crown, the ruby comb; / where heaps of
diamond dust are swept / by one whose castle is his home.”
Sylvia Cassedy may have been the only
person who ever wrote a collection of 26 poems about rooms,
arranged alphabetically: Attic, Basement, Closet, Den, Elevator, Fire
Escape, Greenhouse, Haunted room, Imaginary room, Jungle Gym, Keep,
Loft, Mirror, Nest, Office, Parlor, Quiet room, Roof, Shell, Tunnel,
Upstairs, Vestibule, Widow's Walk, X, Your room, and Zoo. This is not exactly the formula for
poetry likely to be preserved among the great literary masterpieces
of the world, but it is an interesting way to arrange a book that
will encourage young readers to play with sounds and pay attention to
the sound of what they write.
Roomrimes also
encourage young readers to explore poetic forms. Despite a
predilection for that cliché of Poems For Children, the rhymed
couplet that tries to seem longer than it really
is by having its lines broken up (“How nice,” / he said / when he
/ had done. / “But uses / it has / plainly / none”), Cassedy has
demonstrated the usefulness of a few easy, middle-school-accessible
traditional forms: the quatrain quoted above, straightforward
couplets (“Apartment houses, as a rule, / are entered through a
vestibule”), a haiku. Roomrimes also
includes at least one completely rimeless bit of Free Verse, and one
of those early-twentieth-century Modern Poems where a new “form”
is invented to look like the subject—the “Elevator” poem runs
up and down parallel narrow “shafts” of type on the page.
What,
in fact, makes Roomrimes a
book for middle school readers? Primarily, I think, the fact that
Sylvia Cassedy wrote novels, also illustrated by Michele Chessare,
for middle school readers. The poems themselves are light, whimsical,
and likely to amuse teenagers and adults as well as
ten-to-twelve-year-olds, and Cassedy's quirky viewpoint doesn't sound
as if she's writing down to ten-to-twelve-year-olds. She might
indulge young readers with a few gross-out images (“An arc of mold,
/ soft as the fluff / in the crease / of a cuff / and smelling /
divinely /of rot, / steadily spreads”) or even more than a few
(“Smack in the pit / of your bed /is a sack / of what looks / to be
spiders / or whacking- / big fleas”). She might describe the
occupants of most of the “rooms,” when they are human, in terms
that suggest humans between the ages of ten and fifteen, although the
“Den” seems to belong to a married couple (“for him, an
ottoman; / for her, an ottowoman”). And I found nothing erotic in
this book.
But if other readers, like my late husband, want to define the difference between children's and adults' poems in terms of the poems' awareness of human mortality...well, the “Attic” harbors “a company of silent things: / A crowd of husks / where wasps once hummed; / a shrouded couch / with silenced springs,” and the “Greenhouse” is a place where “scraps of snow die at the walls,” and the “Shell” “lies...where skulls of blackfish / wash ashore; / where schooners sank / and spilled their store.” Cassedy's “Widow's Walk” doesn't seem to be living up to its ominous name yet, and the “Haunted Room” may be a way of denying human mortality. Readers will have to make up their own minds about her “X.” Let's just say that these poems, though child-accessible, aren't an attempt to recreate the sweet, nice, perfectly rimed Children's Poems that were read to us in primary school. They're odder, grittier, more likely to induce a chuckle or a serious reflection in people over age eight or ten, and less likely to be appreciated by most preschoolers or primary-schoolers, though one never knows.
But if other readers, like my late husband, want to define the difference between children's and adults' poems in terms of the poems' awareness of human mortality...well, the “Attic” harbors “a company of silent things: / A crowd of husks / where wasps once hummed; / a shrouded couch / with silenced springs,” and the “Greenhouse” is a place where “scraps of snow die at the walls,” and the “Shell” “lies...where skulls of blackfish / wash ashore; / where schooners sank / and spilled their store.” Cassedy's “Widow's Walk” doesn't seem to be living up to its ominous name yet, and the “Haunted Room” may be a way of denying human mortality. Readers will have to make up their own minds about her “X.” Let's just say that these poems, though child-accessible, aren't an attempt to recreate the sweet, nice, perfectly rimed Children's Poems that were read to us in primary school. They're odder, grittier, more likely to induce a chuckle or a serious reflection in people over age eight or ten, and less likely to be appreciated by most preschoolers or primary-schoolers, though one never knows.
Roomrimes is
an ideal book for middle school “enrichment classes” or youth
clubs to read and perhaps imitate during their obligatory dabble in
poetry, but adults with some sense of humor and whimsy are likely to
enjoy reading it too. To buy it here, send $5 per book + $5 per package to salolianigodagewi @ yahoo.com.
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