Village Books Blog

What Should Teens Read?

Way back in June 2011, there was an article in the Wall Street Journal that challenged contemporary young adult literature for being too dark for teenagers. The backlash was significant, with authors, editors, publishers, booksellers etc. all chiming in to protest the merits of darker YA lit. (See below for more links.)

But the debate isn't new. What should teens read? Do parents have a right to monitor what their teenagers read? Do they have a responsibility? What age are we talking about? Limiting what a twelve-year-old reads is certainly different than limiting what a seventeen-year-old reads.

I’ll come right out with my opinion: teenagers should be allowed to read what they want. I believe this even for the twelve-year-olds, though it completely baffles me when I meet seventeen-year-olds who “aren’t allowed to read that.”

My opinion does, of course, come from my own experiences, so I don’t mind sharing. My parents let me read whatever I wanted, a privilege I took for granted until recently. When I started attending literature conferences and discovering in debates that many parents screen what they allow their teenagers to read, I promptly called up my mom and thanked her for never doing that to me.

Do you know what happened when I picked up a book that was too dark for me? I put it back down. I understand the impulse to choose what your child reads. These parents were somewhat demonized in the debate back in June, but it stems from a desire to protect and I would hardly call that evil. I’m not a parent myself, but I can see how difficult it must be to watch your child, who you’ve provided for since infancy, grow up and start to make their own choices, especially when you aren’t convinced those choices are the right ones.

When we read about the worst possible scenarios, we learn more about ourselves and more about the world. And we’re learning in a safe place. Part of the worry about letting teenagers read whatever they want is that they’ll be exposed to something they’re not ready for. However, I think young adults deserve more credit than that.

Bringing the focus back to young adult literature, though, these “dark” books are actually very, very important. Through books, teenagers can learn about date rape, hate crimes, severe consequences of bullying, and eating disorders, to list four of a million. Reading about uncomfortable topics helps us to define our own lines of what is and is not okay and how we might act in certain situations that we hope we never actually encounter. In a way, reading is training…for life. A recent psychological study even concluded that people who read a lot of fiction are far more empathetic and skilled at interpreting social situations that those who read little to none. Reading teaches people to view the world not only their own experience, but through other people’s perspectives.

Far too often I hear stories of awful things happening to teenagers, things that might even have been avoided if the teenagers hadn’t been so sheltered. Using my four examples from above: girls who were date raped before they ever knew what that term means, prejudice that escalated into hate crimes because no one could see how a few comments could build to something worse, bullies who don’t realize how crippling their “teasing” can be, girls who literally starved themselves to death without knowing that most teenagers struggle to find a healthy relationship with food, their own body, mirrors, and the media’s obsession with physical perfection. Reading is the enemy of ignorance. (I feel like I should put on a cape after that line, but I still believe it wholeheartedly!) Every time we read a good book, whether or not it’s a dark one, our worldview shifts ever so slightly, sometimes noticeably if it’s an amazing book.

What about when a book is required reading? I’ve been saying teenagers should be allowed to choose what they read and I think that’s a two way street. If they want to read a dark book, I hope no one will stop them. However, if they don’t, I hope no one will force them. As I’ve already said, I think most teenagers have a better measure of what they’re ready for than we expect, especially in terms of a personal experience like reading. Many adults simply don’t like dark stories and they’re not lesser people for it. For some of us, reading these darker stories can help us understand society and ourselves. Others wonder why they would hunt out pain in fiction when there’s already an overabundance in the real world. Just as I believe teenagers are entitled to read dark literature if they want to, I also believe it doesn’t make them naïve if they prefer and stick with lighter stories.

So far my argument, and a lot of other ones that I read, misses a key factor. I’m not suggesting that you hunt down any young adult book with a dark and disturbing premise and shove it into a teenager’s hands. It’s all in how the topic is handled. I have read books in which disconcerting factors - rape, incest, pedophilia, murder - seem to be tossed in there to appeal to the reader’s morbid fascination with such topics. The nail in the coffin is when these books don’t really address any of the depth behind the can of worms they opened. How does the victim recover? How do people on the outskirts of the situation handle it? How does it ripple through the community? When a book forces me to think, especially to reevaluate my opinion, I will not condemn it if it had some painful moments or plot threads. It’s only when books present disturbing topics as a little extra spice for the plot that I’m enraged to find the darkness there.

In the end, I’m shocked when teenagers are actually discouraged from reading. Even when I do read a terrible book (be it bad writing, stock characters, one dimensional plot, or an overbearingly didactic subtext), I still learn from it. Either as a writer (“That character seems to be an afterthought; I should be sure to give all of mine, even the minor ones, their own story”) or as a person (“It angers me that the character seems to bear no psychological scars from being raped. That undermines women who have actually been raped and how hard it is to recover”). All books, even the ones we dislike, throw open the doors for discussion. Even when that discussion is only in our own mind, we still learn from it. Closing those doors is never the answer.

-Rachel

Here are some further links that relate to this discussion topic:

-Sherman Alexie’s response

- NPR response

- Guardian response

- #YA saves

- Publisher’s Weekly response

- Child psychologist’s response

- Eighth graders chime in

- NYT article and discussion

 

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rachelannhanley.blogspot.com

The Audio Book as Performed by the Person Next to You

Two of my coworkers are a couple (so stinkin' cute together!) and are big on reading to each other. Occasionally they'll tell me about what they're reading and about particular parts of the book that had them laughing or gasping or tearing up. I imagine this scene, the two of them settled in for the night after a long day of work, one of them grabbing the book from the nightstand, turning to the page where they left off, and beginning the literary performance. And knowing these two, it would be a performance—different voices, inflection, accents, the works.

I also enjoy the experience of reading out loud to someone or being read to. The first time I shared a book with someone, it was an old, tattered copy of The Abortion by Richard Brautigan--an absolutely gorgeous and sad story. I don't know if my love of that book comes from the story itself or from how I experienced it—curled up under the blankets, the room lit with the warm light of the bedside lamp, my eyes closed, imagining the library in which the main character lived, wishing my name were something as exotic as Vida. 

Another coworker, on the other hand, does not enjoy being having her spouse read to her or vice versa. For her, reading a book is a private experience, one to be savored on her own. It’s an opportunity to go into her own world after a long day of work, chasing around a two-year-old, making dinner, running errands, and all of the other things that come with being a very, very busy mom, employee, wife, etc.

I can really appreciate both. Sharing a book with another person can deepen intimacy; we’re both experiencing a story at the same rate and sharing our reactions. A few years ago, the many miles of a cross country road trip became a flash in the bucket as book after book was read out loud. But I have felt equally as connected with someone as we laid silently side-by-side in bed, our noses tucked into our own books.

What about you? Do you enjoy reading to someone else or being read to? Or do you prefer to experience a book on your own, at your own pace, with your own thoughts and interpretations?

-Lindsey

www.villagebooks.com

Guest Blog Post: Joshua McNichols

Bellingham native Joshua McNichols is author of The Urban Farm Handbook: City-Slicker Resources for Growing, Raising, Sourcing, Trading, & Preparing What You Eat, available at Village Books. He’s currently working on a novel about Kurdish refugees he met while living in Greece.

When I graduated from high school in '92, I received as gifts 5 different dictionaries. I took them to Village Books, which kindly gave me credit. I told the staff "I'm interested in philosophical stories." All the staff got involved, and they filled my arms with a huge stack of books: "thinky" novels that jump started my love of reading. Collectively, the towering stack of novels came to me at a critical moment. I was a freshly un-caged teenager, blinking in the sunlight of adulthood.

I have forgotten some of titles they recommended, but several have become lifelong friends:

• The Buddha of Suburbia by Hanif Kureishi
• Landscape Painted with Tea by Milorad Pavic
• Invisible Cities by Italo Calvino
• The Unbearable Lightness of Being by Milan Kundera
• Mauthausen by Iakovos Kampanellis
• The River Why by David James Duncan
• Probably something by Tom Robbins
• Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance by Robert M. Pirsig
• Salman Rushdie’s Midnight’s Children
• Ulysses by James Joyce (okay, that one took me a few years to appreciate)

That summer, my Village Books picks accompanied me to Europe, where they filled one of my two bike panniers.  As I cycled in a big circle around the continent, I met many people in hostels, sometimes slept on their living room floors. But in between cities, long stretches of solitude offered many reading places. I read in a rickety wooden lookout tower in a cherry orchard above the Rhine. I read in a Swiss hayloft, my muscles aching from the journey over the pass. I read on a salty windswept bench in the French Camargue while eating dense Roma-made bread and honey. Though I left many of the books in hostels and living rooms, they stayed with me. Somewhere along the road, the voices in those books merged with my voice and became a part of me. I emerged from that trip a “thinky” kid with a newly calibrated moral compass. As I made the life choices that would define me as an adult, I had faith in words to help me navigate, or at least document, the journey.

Last month, I had the chance to return to Village Books as an author. I considered it a small chance to give back to a bookstore that had given me so much.

Thank you Village Books, for taking pimply teenagers seriously, and for taking dictionaries in trade for credit.

www.villagebooks.com

 

The Phantom Tollbooth Rocks My World

(Yep. That's my original copy from 1989. I wish I could make it scratch-n-sniff for you because it smells like love and happiness.)

The other day my 10-year-old niece handed me a book and said, "I keep forgetting to give this to you." It was a copy of The Phantom Tollbooth by Norton Juster. Apparently when my niece was visiting my parents in Pennsylvania last year, my mom gave her the book and told her to pass it along to me. To my niece, she was just doing what she was told. But to me, this meant the world. This book wasn't just any books, it was mine--the one that I had read as a wee little lass, when I first discovered the magic that is The Phantom Tollbooth.

I held the book in my hands and swear I heard a "whoosh" as the memories of first reading the book came back to me. I was enamored Milo's adventures. A market place that sold letters and a watchdog whose body was literally a clock? How could I not love that? To this day, I still get unnerved when I think of the expressionless man who tries to delay Milo by making him count grains of sand with tweezers. These are the snippets I tell children about when they come to the store looking for a book that isn't Harry Potter or Diary of a Wimpy Kid. I have yet to hear a kid say that he or she didn't like the book. They always return with rave reviews. And why not, you know? I mean, The Phantom Tollbooth is an astounding piece of children's literature that is in a class of its own.

I'm as giddy as a jumping bean (are jumping beans giddy?) to have my copy back in my hands. And has my niece read the book? You better believe it. She has a copy of her own now too. What an amazing gift we have in books. They entertain us in the moment, but stay with us our entire lives.

-Lindsey

P.S. Is there a book from your childhood that makes you as giddy as a jumping bean too? If so, post it in the comments.

 

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Andrew Recommends History

My criteria for a good history book is simple:  when I finish reading it, the world should appear completely different.

With that in mind, I recommend:

1)  GUNS, GERMS & STEEL by Jared Diamond. If you haven't read it, it's not simple enough to explain in a sentence. But it is not so complicated that it can't be summed up in a 5-paragraph essay. This is not the first book to merge human history with natural science (Ferdinand Braudel comes to mind.) It is, however, the most cogent, simple, and straightforward examination of the natural factors which created the disparities between various human societies.

2)  THE PRIZE by Daniel Yergin. You might not think that the history of oil could be such a page-turner, but Yergin's book is just that. Intimate portraits of fascinating people and in-depth studies of the formation of dominant groups, such as Standard Oil, Aramco, and Royal Dutch Shell are turned into astonishing action stories. If nothing else, Yergin's book should convince you of the central significance that oil has played in every corner of our economy and every turn of history. If you don't know the history of oil, you don't know the history of the world in which you live.

3)  1421:  THE YEAR CHINA DISCOVERED AMERICA by Gavin Menzies. The treasure fleet of Admiral Zheng He is no longer lost to history, but its course and its impact have remained buried by astonishing accidents and a revisionist narrative that puts Columbus and Magellan in Zheng He's place. His fleet circumnavigated the world, made contact with the Aztecs (remember Montezuma mistook Cortez for Quetzecoatl? Was he expecting more of the civilized Chinese?), and dropped off colonies across the Americas. His map -- or part of it -- ended up copied in the hands of a Venetian sailor. What happened next is so strange it could only be real.


I also like a good read, and for that I can recommend:

1)  THE GUNS OF AUGUST, by Barbara Tuchman. Anything Tuchman writes is a good read, but this story, about the months before and after the outbreak of World War One, is an astonishing narrative with all the power and drama of the best Tom Clancy.

2)  AT HOME, by Bill Bryson. Only Bill Bryson could get away with writing a travelogue after walking through his own house. Not as funny as NOTES FROM A SMALL ISLAND, not as pretentious as A REALLY SHORT HISTORY OF NEARLY EVERYTHING, but still classic Bryson describing the origins of toilets, sofas, crown molding, and so much more.

3)  JUSTINIAN'S FLEA, by William Rosen. An offshoot, perhaps, of GUNS, GERMS & STEEL, Rosen applies the lessons of natural history to the last great moment of the Roman Empire. This is about  Byzantine emperor Justinian II and his infamous wife Theodora, his general Belisarius and Belisarius' warrior wife Antonina, and how they reunited the vast majority of the old Roman empire, only to lose it to a plague spread through...yes...climate change.

4)  THE AMERICAN FUTURE by Simon Schama.  If you feel like getting nostalgic for 2008, this is a perfect read.  But the power of this book comes from Schama's unearthing of forgotten or overlooked moments in the history of the United States.  This book is well-worth picking up if only to read about Montgomery Miegs, Robert E. Lee and the founding of Arlington National Cemetery.  And for the moment Schama meets G.W. Bush in London and feels compelled to cheer him up.

A Book Is My Solitude

When I choose a book, I don't just think about the latest and greatest title, or what the cover looks like, or whether or not the author seems like a cool person to grab coffee with. I consider much more than that. To me, a book is not something that one simply picks up, skims through, and drops off at the nearest used bookstore. A book is my solitude; my refuge from whatever life event has me feeling out of whack that day. A book is my excuse to retreat to my room and hide under my electric blanket (which, in a house full of poor college students who would rather freeze to death than fork out the extra money for heat, is a wonderful thing). A book is my excuse to stash my cell phone away from time to time in a place where I don't have to respond to its tiresome pestering.

It is my excuse to stay in on a Friday night when I'm feeling drained from a long week of demands, or when I simply want to relax. It is my haven from those difficult dilemmas that we all face in life. Now, don't get me wrong; a book is not my excuse to permanently avoid any and all responsibilities. Rather, it is there to ease my concerns, soothe my mind, and quiet my heart in the most difficult of times, or the most peaceful of evenings.

Books are my friends. In fact, books are some of the best friends I think any of us can ever have. They never demand more from us than we can give. Instead, they challenge us to look outside of our daily lives and into the lives of others. They ask us to empathize, to consider events that we wouldn't regularly dedicate our thoughts to. They only request that we acknowledge what someone else has to say for a change. In a world where all of us are constantly on the go, trying to meet demands that frequently exceed our capabilities, a world where we see our own worst faults and try to control myriads of things that we should simply let be, books are there to relax us. In the conversations we hold with books, they never try to change us, and we don't try to change them. Books hold our hands in their pages and ask us to breath. They assuage our fears, if only for a few blissful moments so that we can recollect ourselves. In a culture where many students my age will never read a book for leisure again in their lifetimes, I am finding more and more value within the pages of my best friends.

As I continue to grow and learn more about my world around me, I find myself running towards books, not away from them. I crave what they have to tell me. After four wonderful, challenging, enlightening years at Village Books, books have not disappointed me once. Their dependability, and the fact that I can trust them unconditionally, are admirable qualities that I find invaluable in people. I know that the world is an unpredictable place, and I haven't even left the North American Continent. I also know that wherever I go, and whatever journeys I wind up taking, books will always be there to comfort and enliven me. After all, isn't that what great friends are for?

--Tiffany

The Importance of Family Time

My mom is my best friend. We're like "Gilmore Girls," but without the teenage pregnancy. We spend a ton of time together hanging out, but it was not until last night that I realized how time together as a family, and family time are two completely different things. Due to boredom from being snowed in we decided to bust out some board games and change things up a bit. I cannot remember the last time I had that much fun, laughing about things that out of context seem stupid but when you're playing board games, they are the most hilarious phrases you've ever heard. It's moments like these that make up a family.

Some of the most important memories from my childhood were when we had what I call family time. For me it isn't just all being in the same room together. It's working towards a common goal that involves the minds of every person involved, like playing board games. Now that is a trivial example, but others are cooking a big Sunday dinner together, building a treehouse together, or reading a book together. This last example is in my opinion the single most important thing a family can do together. It's a way for the parents to educate their children and help facilitate their intellectual growth. It's also a way for children to develop their imagination and start figuring out who they want to be, knowing their parents support them. Reading puts us in other people's shoes, and since identity is such a huge issue for children this is a great way for them to develop it within their home with their families present unlike the modern-day alternative of running away from home to find yourself.

My mom read to me every single day from the second she found out she was pregnant with me. I believe this is why we are as close as we are, but also why I am the person that I am. Yes, Dr. Seuss and Goodnight Moon are fantastic books but it wasn't the words that mattered as much as the act of reading as a family was. Even though I'm now all grown up we have decided to still have family time, because no matter how old you get, you're never too old for your family.

--Kyle

Making Time for Reading in 2012

2012 is almost here, and once again I feel woefully unprepared. As I tear down the Christmas tree and start buying my textbooks for next quarter I can't help but think about New Year's resolutions. This tradition is one I always try to take part in, but generally end up abandoning once the ball drops. In the past I have made lavish claims about giving up soda (but root beer always prevails) or cleaning my room once a week (which my mom can corroborate as a failed mission), but this year I have given a bit more thought as to how I can actually accomplish my goal.

First, I chose JUST ONE resolution to focus my energy on: Reading more.

This may seem kind of vague, but I know exactly how much my “outside” reading has fallen to the wayside since I started at Western Washington University four years ago. With textbooks and articles and novels to read for class, it often takes me upwards of a month to finish even a short book. In 2012, this pattern will end. I have no delusions about reading 100 books in a year or one book a week, I just want to read more nonrequired material. The reason I have not been able to do this in the last few years is because of TIME MANAGEMENT.

I have brainstormed a few ways to make time for reading in 2012, and I hope that these tips can help you to join me in this resolution!

1.    Join “The 12/12/12/ Plan” through Village Books
This might be kind of a shameless plug for my employer, but if you haven't heard of our 12/12/12 plan yet, you can read about it here. To sum it up, the goal is to read 12 books in 12 months in 2012. The real kicker is that you can read ANY BOOK. That means that if May is a crazy month for you, your book could be Goodnight Moon or something else that is relatively unintimidating. You get to be part of a book club, without the risk of reading something you have no interest in.

2.    Combine reading with your other responsibilities
I know what it's like to have a lot to do; I am a full time college student, I work at Village Books, and I have three nephews that frequently need babysitting. My plate is pretty full, but who's to say that reading cannot be integrated into these responsibilities? Instead of letting my nephews throw Legos all over the living room, I can read The Phantom Tollbooth to them. If I read an advanced release book from work, I can contribute my review to the book buyers. Since I consider my social life a responsibility, a book club is a way to combine my resolution with socializing.

3.    Turn off the TV
I'll be honest: I love television. I am one of those people who ALWAYS finishes a book, even if I am not enjoying it. The same goes for TV shows. No matter how much a show has spiraled into stupidity as the seasons go on, I will stick it out to the series finale. Because of this, I have more TV loyalties than I am proud of. So, in 2012 I plan to drop at least one show per night from my schedule (sorry Desperate Housewives, but you're not going to make the cut.) By carving out a few programs, I can add seven hours per week for reading!

4.    Don't force it
The reason resolutions often fail is because they can make us miserable. Some days, after classes and work and homework, all I want to do is lay down and watch Family Guy. As long as I keep my laziness in moderation, there's no reason why I shouldn't be able to give in to it sometimes and ignore my book for a night.

I hope that I helped you consider adding “read more” to your list of resolutions this year. If not, I wish you all luck in your respective goals. Happy New Year!

--Kacie

Rachel's Review of Daughter of Smoke and Bone by Laini Taylor

Rachel runs our VB Reads Young Adult Book Group and VB Reads Fantasy Book Group. She's a reader among readers for sure! You can check out her own blog by clicking here or see what other books she recommends by clicking here.

I've discovered another magical find! Daughter of Smoke and Bone starts with an offbeat, attention-grabbing scene that hooked me immediately, and it didn't take long for my intrigue to spark into infatuation. I'm a reader who can easily put down a book, even when I'm adoring it, because now and again I like to do other things, like eat or sleep. That's why it's all the more impressive when I find a book so good that it calls to me even when I'm trying to finish some actual work.

I've mentioned before my stance that there are two kinds of gifted writing: that which turns invisible and that which demands admiration. Taylor's is the latter. I was hyper aware of the writing style at all times, but in a positive way. She handles words with such love, devotion, and care that I frequently paused my overeager reading rush. Not only does Taylor craft unique turns of phrase and evoke intense sensory imagery, but she does so on almost every single page. There were a handful of times when the writing stumbled over itself with a jerky point of view change, such as when the author inserts her own voice to tell us pretty obvious details about a character like that the protagonist is very mysterious, but those awkward moments can be counted on one hand.

The pace is the work of a master, hitting a nice balance of suspense without frustration. A lot of information is withheld, something that can easily, and often does, annoy me, but in this case it worked. Karou, the mysterious protagonist, knows as little as we do (often less), so I enjoyed the journey of rediscovering a forgotten past with her. Taylor feeds her readers new information on this imagined world and its secrets in little bites that kept me constantly appeased: never starved, never bloated.

After finishing the book, I realized it's a fairly direct Romeo and Juliet spin-off, only with so many added layers and so much entrancing world-building that one might miss that. The back cover describes the story as a forbidden love tale; however, it actually takes quite a while, perhaps a third of the book even, for that portion of the story to take off.

As a brief summary, Karou lives among humans, but she was raised by chimaera, creatures with mixed human and animal features. While she has mortal friends and does in fact share her fantastical life with them, they all assume the bizarre tales and drawings are nothing more than the work of a creative imagination. Karou's guardian, Brimstone, sends her out on strange, disturbing, and sometimes dangerous errands to collect human teeth, though he refuses to explain their purpose...which I never could have predicted!

My only annoyance with this book is that I wasn't aware it's the first in a series until I neared the end and found myself mentally chanting, "How on earth will she wrap this up in only twenty more pages? In only ten? Five? Two?" Then I reached the last line "to be continued" and did feel quite disappointed to know I wasn't anywhere near reaching a conclusion. However, I do believe that if someone starts this book with the knowledge that it's the first in the series, it does find as nice a closure point as possible with such a grand plot, though I admit the end was the only time when my nicely fed reader's appetite felt the slightest bit starved.

This book slides under your skin. The writing reaffirms the power of words and the story hums with fervent emotion throughout, including hope's struggle against a wall of tragedy. From the tensions of a double life to petty (in comparison) social concerns to a tone that can hit hilarity, woe, and romance right on target, there's never a dull moment!

Guest Blog Post: Art Wolfe, 'Dogs Make Us Human'

Premier wildlife photographer Art Wolfe has released a groundbreaking tribute to canine and human friendship around the globe in his latest book, Dogs Make Us Human. He will be at The Leopold's Crystal Ballroom on Thursday, November 17, 6:30pm.

Like many American families, my family always had dogs. My favorite was a good- natured, scruffy mutt named Wolfy. I took him everywhere I went. He was the great companion of my youth. I think we spent more time hiking in the Cascades than at home in West Seattle.

Since the first wolves were lured to Middle Eastern hearths between 15,000 and 40,000 years ago, humans and dogs have forged a strong, interspecies bond. This bond, born of necessity and molded into the deep recesses of our psyches and culture, is the foundation of our canine helpmates, companions, workers, medical lifesavers, friends, family members, objects of value and sometimes even, food.

As long as I have been photographing, dogs have been a focus for my lens. Wherever there are humans, there are dogs and how we humans treat them runs the gamut. One man’s pet is another man’s fetish. At a medicinal market in West Africa, I saw rows upon rows of dog heads along with desiccated chameleons, primates, crocodiles, and ungulate horns. In Japan, the cutest of the cute Poms, Pekes, and Yorkies in designer jackets rule the roost. My travels have shown me uncomfortable extremes in humanity’s dealings with dogs, but most importantly much of the joy that characterizes that core relationship.

Dogs Make Us Human is a celebration of the positive aspects of the relationship: it’s charming, upbeat, and while my photos show the remarkable bond canines and humans have, New Zealand-based, NY Times bestselling author Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson’s words speak to it directly. How from Manhattan to Mongolia, dogs enrich our lives, help make our lives less difficult, help us live longer. I have certainly witnessed this first hand through many cultures since I started traveling the world. 

Nearly thirty years ago I made my first trek to the Tibetan Himalaya on the Ultima Thule expedition from Seattle; the goal for most on that research expedition was to summit Everest, but for me, I yearned to see the culture. Roaming the streets of Lhasa, I came upon numerous round little children with their round little dogs and I was captivated. These encounters in the remote corners of the world are the most special of all: days spent in with the Dani tribe in Irian Jaya, witnessing their daily tasks, which include affectionate interaction with their wiry dogs; with the Yanomamo in the cloud forests of Venezuela, who colorfully adorn their prize hunting dogs as they adorn themselves; with the Tsaaten, the reindeer people of Mongolia, who have big, hairy dogs to protect their priceless herds from wolves and bears.

It was not until recently that I really started concentrating on photographing dogs in “western” cultures. While there are geographical and cultural pockets where dogs are still working animals, such as New Zealand, I would say for the most part we a significantly different relationship with our canine friends. They have insinuated themselves deeply into our family life—sometimes seeming like the only family we have; they have various professionals who take care of them—the vet, the groomer, the walker; dogs are a booming economy. But seriously, as Jeffrey Moussaieff Masson points out, in all these photographs of peoples from around the world with their dogs, we see evidence of the same deep feeling, the same deep pleasure in “otherness” that we can only have with a creature who returns the trust, the friendship, and the love. Our species has been blessed.