Spooktober kickoff: "Spooks and Spirits and Shadowy Shapes"

October is here, which means a monthlong celebration of Halloween and a full month (hopefully) of terrified nail-biting over the Philadelphia Phillies' playoff fate. As I mentioned a few days ago, there's going to be a heavy emphasis on books this month, and we're kicking off with a ragged 1970s paperback edition of Spooks and Spirits and Shadowy Shapes, an anthology of ghost stories aimed at young readers and illustrated by Robert L. Doremus (1913-2010).

The book was first published in hardcover in 1949 by E.P. Dutton & Co. and received subsequent hardcover and paperback editions over the decades. Copies of hardcover editions are scarce and list online for $70 or more; perhaps they're just too beloved for families to part with them. Perhaps they got worn out from being read hundreds of times. A little of both?

I'm not sure if the paperback version is abridged and contains fewer stories than the original hardcovers. My Xerox Education Publication paperback has 127 pages and nine stories, with the table of contents listed at right. The stories are by Emma L. Brock, Elizabeth Yates, Aileen Fisher (2), Elizabeth Coatsworth, Ruth D. McCrea, Gertrude Crampton, Adele DeLeeuw and Mary R. Walsh. That's right — all women. Very cool! 

In an October 30, 1949, column for The Houston Chronicle headlined "Halloween Attitude Growing Dangerous," Evelyn S. Thompson complains: "The past few years has [sic] seen the development of an attitude toward Halloween that has produced devastating results. Our younger generation has come to look upon this day as a time when all restraint can be thrown aside and we have evidence of vandalism on every side. Property is abused and destroyed. Instead of wholesome fun that could be the keynote of this 'spooky' holiday, we find the police force augmented and property owners in distress, fearful of the destruction the pranksters may create."

In 1949! Apparently, youth pranks and vandalism around Halloween were especially bad in the United States (and elsewhere) until the holiday was "tamed" with the widespread introduction of trick-or-treating in the early 1950s.

And what did Thompson think of as "wholesome fun"? Books! She touts Spooks and Spirits and Shadowy Shapes as "an excellent collection of modern stories" for ages 8 to 12. "They are easy reading for the average youngster in graces [sic] four to six, and are breath-taking, but each has a plausible explanation," Thompson wrote.

So in the end, perhaps no actual spooks or spirits. Boo! 

Writing an Amazon review of the book in 2015, Marilyn Schneider states: "I have been looking for this treasure from my childhood 'forever'. I got it from the little neighborhood library as a child and the last time I tried to get it for my grand kids I was informed it was long out of print. It's a book of good old scary stories that are decent and wholesome from a long gone generation of good clean fun."

Meanwhile, illustrator Doremus had a long and varied career. According to his Legacy.com obituary, he shifted his focus to children's books after serving in the U.S. Army Air Corps during World War II. It states: "His credits include a great number of children's readers and histories, textbooks, posters, film strips, coloring books, activity books, and career education packages for elementary schools. People across America growing up in the 50s, 60s, and 70s may remember him for his work in text books or the more than 100 children's books as well as activity books based on their favorite television shows such as 'Get Smart,' 'Convoy,' and 'Bonanza.' His most memorable and favorite commercial work was the picture book based on the Walt Disney movie 'Old Yeller.' The subject matter has ranged from scientific material to a whimsical cement mixer named 'Little Max;' from the life of Harry S. Truman, to 'Star Trek' and Dr. Spock."

Here are some illustrations from Spooks and Spirits and Shadowy Shapes. While the second and third ones might have been fine for kids in the 1940s and 1950s, they're a big NOPE today. Happy Spooktober!

Beautiful but quite common 1881 poetry book: "Farm Festivals"

It's rare to come across a book that's 144 years old, is incredibly common and isn't the Bible. But that's the case with this gorgeous hardcover book, Farm Festivals. It's a book of poems penned by Will Carleton (1845-1912) that was published in 1881 by Harper & Brothers of New York. 

Carleton, a Midwesterner, wrote sentimental poems about farm life and rural America, appealing to readers’ nostalgia for a simpler lifestyle as industrialization spread. His collections were very popular and went through numerous printings.

An article in The Kansas City Times on December 19, 1912, reporting Carleton's death states:

"Will Carleton's name is a household word in America and not unknown in many English homes. He was essentially a 'people's poet,' and it was a certain homeliness of theme and simplicity of treatment that sent his poems straight to the hearts of the people. Much of his verse was of a timely nature and probably no American poet, unless it be James Whitcomb Riley, was more popular with the school children."

This popularity means Carleton's books are not hard to find in the 21st century and, unless there is something unique about an individual volume, the books do not sell for very much. A quick glance finds copies of Farm Festivals selling on AbeBooks for $3, $5 and $6. 

If you'd like, I'll send you my copy of the book, free of charge. Just shoot me an email at chrisottopa (at) gmail.com, and help me with my decluttering. If you'd like, you can make a modest donation to your local food bank or library in lieu of sending me anything. First come, first served.

Here are some peeks inside the book, which appears to have multiple uncredited illustrators:

One movie after another*

*or, like a thousand times before, like the castle in its corner, in a medieval game, I foresee terrible trouble, and I stay here just the same

In my movie-viewing this year, I've seen more than 40 movies, spanning 1917 to 2025, that represent first-time watches for me. I'll post the full list of my favorite first watches in early January. But I'm certain that two movies that will reside in my top five are 1982's Missing by Costa-Gavras and this month's One Battle After Another by Paul Thomas Anderson.

For me, they're in dialogue with each other. Missing is the best film I've seen thus far this year; the one that resonated with me the most and that was scarier than any of the horror movies that Ashar and I watch. I watched it early in the year, a few weeks after the inauguration, as it became clear that the public roundups, "disappearings" and domestic military deployments promised in 2024 were to become our reality of 2025. Missing's long first act, especially, is gut-wrenching, capturing the visceral terror of a regime that vanishes people simply for what they say, write or believe. Jack Lemmon and Sissy Spacek absolutely deserved their Oscar nominations.

One Battle After Another is about resisting oppressive regimes, and the immediate and generational consequences of brutal, violent activism carried out by fallible humans confronting monsters.

It's a comedy. 

And a drama. And a thriller. And a satire. There's not really one label for the film, which is par for the course for Anderson. While the obvious comparison within PTA's oeuvre is Inherent Vice, as both are Thomas Pynchon adaptations, sort of, the movie I found One Battle After Another to most be in conversation with is Magnolia. They are both interested in family clashes, especially between generations, and how they are resolved. On what we can and cannot forgive. There are similarities of form, too. One Battle After Another's long, tense middle act in Baktan Cross, and its score by Jonny Greenwood, reminds me of the sprawling "Stanley/Frank/Linda's Breakdown" section of Magnolia scored by Jon Brion (who should have been nominated for an Oscar).

I won't get into more specific details or spoilers of One Battle After Another. I think you should see the film. In a theater. On as big of a screen as possible. Avoid clips and spoilers, if you haven't already seen them. Let the movie unfold and surprise you. Let it marinate afterward.

Then, you might want to check out some thoughtful reviews and essays. Some that I found insightful include Ty Burr in The Washington Post (gift link), Robert Daniels on Substack, Aisha Harris for NPR, Ellen E. Jones for The Guardian, Kristen Lopez for The Film Maven, Walter Chaw for Film Freak Center, and Malindy Hetfeld on Medium. Seeking out and considering a diversity of views is important with this movie, which, just like its presumptive heroes, shouldn't be considered faultless. 

Finally, a great movie should spur you to seek out other films. PTA himself suggested these films as sharing themes with One Battle After Another:

• Running on Empty (1988, Sidney Lumet; also one of my grandmother's favorites)
• Midnight Run (1988, Martin Brest)
• The French Connection (1971, William Friedkin)
• The Battle of Algiers (1966, Gillo Pontecorvo) 
• The Searchers (1956, John Ford)

And here are some more, based on some great BlueSky user suggestions and my own brainstorming:

• The Spook Who Sat by the Door (1973, Ivan Dixon)
• Missing (1982, Costa-Gavras)
• Z (1968, Costa-Gavras)
• Uptight (1968, Jules Dassin)
• El Mar La Mar (2017, Joshua Bonnetta & J.P. Sniadecki)
• Black Panthers (1968, Agnès Varda)
• The Fifth Horseman Is Fear (1965, Zbyněk Brynych)
• Black Wax (1983, Robert Mugge)
• The Golden Dream (2013, Diego Quemada-Díez)
  

Hours after watching One Battle After Another, this headline popped up on my phone. We are living in one hell of a moment.