Customer Reviews

When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer (Golden Kite Honors)

5 star:		(5)
4 star:		(1)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

I wish I had this book when I was teaching 19th-century American literature to college freshmen. I bought a few weeks ago and have been reading it to my daughters--the oldest is 5. She loves the art, and so do I. Tonight, out of the blue, she recited most of the poem to me over dinner--we had never before worked on memorizing this or any other poem, but I had mentioned to her that this would be a good poem to memorize. Looks like she agreed. I'm forever grateful to Loren Long for giving Walt to my daughter at such an early age.

I can't seem to understand the negativity expressed by some of the other reviewers. To call this poem anti-intellectual doesn't make much sense to me. It does, however, make sense to balance intellectual inquiry with the wonder and appreciation afforded by observation. The reviewer who mentions sharing his telescope ought to agree, since the children who peer through it clearly are excited by wonder--otherwise, why not just Google "Saturn" and find even better images? Gazing up at the sky--whether with the eye or through a telescope--excited the imagination, and there's something to be said for contemplating the stars in silence. What astronomer hasn't?

My twin daughters were riveted by this book when they were just over three-years-old. They returned to it again and again. It had a quiet, solemn quality that I thought might go over their heads, but it seemed like the opposite was true. There was a lovely synthesis of poetry and image that gave this staying power. It's time to get a copy again to see how they respond. But I'd avoid hypothetical statements of "most children won't understand...(blah, blah, blah). Try 'em, and maybe they'll show you something unexpected.

I have purchased this book for all of my extended family members. Loren Long's portraits are, consciously or subconsciously, the answer to most of what ails humanity...ignore pretense, sometimes parents will unintentionally lead you astray, question everything, don't be easily impressed, don't control or be controlled, ignore the masses, listen to your body, inspire change, FEEL!, bridge the seen and unseen, reflect, the truth is out there, the smallest light is most easily seen in darkness. And most importantly, reciprocity in flight. It's all there for those who see and feel with their hearts rather than their eyes and hands.

Too often we underestimate a child's ability to appreciate quality. We fail to expose them to literature and art worth respecting and assume they can only enjoy the easy and the gawdy. Illustrator Loren Long is the father of two boys and he knows better. His illustrations are wonderful and he knows that children are capable of appreciating the honesty and humor of the little boy who leaves an astronomer's lecture to gaze in "perfect silence at the stars." To underscore the idea that children can participate in so-called adult matters, his sons offer a bit of their own artistic interpretation to this book. What better way to allow children the pleasure of appreciating quality than to introduce them to the illustrations of Loren Long and the poetry of Walt Whitman. This is a special book!

This is a gorgeous book: beautiful old poem and rich new illustrations that interpret it in a new and lovely way. Reading this through a child's eyes fits.

The discussion in the comments here is interesting. For the record, I'm a science teacher. I love science. I appreciate science. I hope to spark some of my passion for technical inquiry to my daughter. I disagree this poem or visual interpretation as anti-intellectual or discouraging to young scholars. Quite the contrary, this book inspires me to step back from my (very important and valuable) charts and equations and bask in the wonder of the universe. It is that sense of wonder, that artistic truth, that inspired me to delve into the sciences in the first place. Hooray for that.

I feel so strongly about both the beauty and the significance of this book that it chokes me up every time I read it to my daughter.

More importantly, my daughter (~2) loves the book for the illustrations. Perhaps she does not yet fully understand what an astronomer is, but she already knows what the stars are, and she can already ask questions and seek knowledge, so she already gets the most important parts -- and isn't that the entire point of the poem? Two is probably on the young end of readership for this book. I look forward to more years of sharing "When I Heard..." with my daughter. I highly recommend it for your family, too, whether you dub yourself an artist or a scientist.

I respectfully disagree with the other reviews. I have seen a lot of children dragged to lectures and other broccoli-like occasions depicted in this book. I don't feel this book or this poem is anti-intellectual or out-of-date, in fact, I think it is very timely in view of the current competitive ethos of advancing/preparing children, where we push children to absorb information and to excel academically, but don't always give children the chance to experience and appreciate things on their own terms. What I do think is anti-intellectual is discouraging an illustrator from interpreting a poem in her own way. I'm glad Walt Whitman is being presented and celebrated for a new age. This book is nice presented to young audiences in combination with Walt Whitman: Words for America by Barbara Kerley.

The drawings for this book are amazing and have a dreamy quality (almost out of focus, but not quite) but they are a little on the dark side and thus difficult to make out for bedtime reading. The book is of course based on the enchanting Walt Whitman poem ("When I heard the learn'd astronomer; When the proofs, the figures, were ranged in columns before me; When I was shown the charts and the diagrams, to add, divide, and
measure them; When I, sitting, heard the astronomer, where he lectured with much applause in the lecture-room, How soon, unaccountable, I became tired and sick; Till rising and gliding out, I wander'd off by myself,
In the mystical moist night-air, and from time to time, Look'd up in perfect silence at the stars"). The fact that this book is a short read and may not be ideal for a dark room may put off some parents - just so you know.

The other poster here is an example of what Walt Whitman talked of so long ago in his poem, about the loss of beauty stripped by blurred reason. His poem still carries with it the truth that was imbued into it when it was written back in his day, yet misunderstood by the Gordon's of today's world. It's a simple truth that cannot be realized by them, the difference between the pursuit of arts or sciences, the difference between the stroke of a brush and the straight line

The reason why the little boy finds the lecture so unbearable is never made clear. Was the subject matter too advanced for him or was the learned astronomer an exceptionally poor speaker? We'll never know. However we should remember that Walt Whitman wrote this poem half a century before the Wright Brothers first flight. To people of his day space flight would have been the wildest of fantasies. Perhaps in those days it was enough to simply look at the stars and enjoy their beauty. But to a 21st century child space represents very real adventure, wonder and danger. Such a child is unlikely to understand this story which seems dated and perhaps even anti-intellectual.

P.S. Over the last five years I have shared my telescope with more than 50,000 people, most of them school children. In the October 2004 addition of Sky & Telescope magazine you will find an article I wrote about a starparty I conducted for a group of children living in a homeless shelter.

Show a child Saturn, or some other astronomical object, and he will pepper you with questions about its size, distance, age and composition. Most importantly he will ask how we were able to figure those things out. Answering his questions will not stifle his creativity or bore him. In fact it will do just the opposite.

Science has a beauty all its own and that beauty is often best recognized by children. To say otherwise is patronizing.