All Souls Day Books

This is a wonderful book.
But it is not about the Mexican holiday.

This book remains one of my all-time favorite books on folk holidays. A series of essays on various fall and harvest celebrations, it centers around Halloween, but branches out to discuss celebrations from Christmas mummers parades of the Ulster Scots and cutting the last sheaf of wheat, to Bonfire night in Newfoundland, to modern day trick-or-treat scare myths.

Beyond merely recounting the history of Halloween, this book does a wonderful job of placing our holiday in a global context and discussing what societal need these holidays or myths fulfilled. A fascinating study of our human history, I recommend this book highly to anyone interested in folk history and the "meaning" of holidays.

In a similar vein, I also recommend, Halloween : An American Holiday, an American History by Lesley Pratt Bannatyne for a more detailed look of the holiday as it unfolded in the US.

This is a great book for the Spanish classroom. It provides lots of good information that you cannot necessarily find on the web. It would be a great book for every school library that has a Spanish program.

My husband and son spent time reading this book last night. Just this morning my husband informed me that he really enjoyed this particular book.
BTW, my son said this book should get 5 stars.

This is exactly what I was looking for to help me teach my children about los dia de muertos. This book is exciting for both my preschooler and my first grader and I would highly reccomend this book to anyone. My children asked to read it time and time again!

This book feels as though it is illustrated using papel picado techniques, with its geometric colorful shapes that are symmetrical and have black-colored backgrounds. This book charmingly uses lots of Spanish language to teach vocabulary to readers. It uses lots of words that have to do with the customs of Día de los Muertos. The narrative of the story leads the reader from the preparations for the fiesta all the way through the procession and celebration. The book is attractively small and square, which will also attract younger readers without intimidating them, but offers more than enough information for these younger readers to get a comprehensive view of Día de los Muertos.

This is an absolutely magical, lovely book, both in the text and illustrations.

However, the paperback I bought has a flimsy binding that started to fall apart after just one reading. I'm going to get it in hardback.

I have read this book to my 6 year-old daughter ab out a dozen times in the last 2 weeks. The colorful and rich illustrations are awe-inspiring and capture the spiritual side of this Mexican holiday. The story reflects the anticipation of the children as their parents prepare for this day of feasting and honoring passed souls.

Another plus in this book is the use of the Spanish language. Scattered throughout the book in short phrases, the words can be interpreted by context for the non-speaker.

I love this book and so does my daughter. We live near the border of Mexico and can attest to the fact that it is culturally accurate and reflects the Mexican culture in a beautiful way. I highly recommend this book!

This lively story tells the meaning of Dia de los Muertos--honoring loved ones--with beautiful illustrations, a good mixture of English and Spanish text, and accuracy. Great teaching tool.

I have been searching and searching for a good book to use when teaching my elementary school students about The Day of the Dead. I own many, many children's books on the subject, but this is the best one yet! It's describes the holiday by following a family through the preparations and the celebration. There are beautiful color photos throughout. It's realistic and not scary. My third grade students enjoyed it and it kept their attention.

This is the story of Pablo, who lives in a small village in Mexico outside of Oaxaca. He remembers and celebrates the life and legacy of his grandmother throughout the three-day fiesta. This novel is perfect for older children, with clear explanatory text and beautiful photographs of Pablo and his family as they celebrate. The book details many cultural practices of the holiday including pan du muertos (bread of the dead), sugar skulls, estampas (the delicately-cut tissue-paper decorations), copal (a resin incense) and cempasuchil (marigolds, the holiday's flower). It outlines how Pablo and his family make ofrendas, or altars presenting their offerings to the departed. It also details the ingredients and processes of the various foods they prepare and eat for the holiday. The photographs show the process of preparing for the fiesta with careful attention, and really demonstrate the connection the family still has to their departed loved ones as they celebrate in Mexico. The book ends with a three-page note from the author that explains the historical background of Día de los Muertos, and how it evolved from its ancient beginnings to how it is practiced now, and also has a glossary of Spanish words used in the book.

"This is an excellent children's picture book to use to introduce the Day of the Dead to your children or class. Through full-page and small color photographs, accompanied by text, photojournalist George Ancona tells the story of how one family honors their deceased relatives by observing the Day of the Dead in their village in Mexico.
The Celebration of the Day of the Dead in a Mexican Village
Young Pablo's grandmother Abuelita died two years ago. Pablo misses her, but he finds all of the Day of the Dead activities to be a comfort. The story revolves around Pablo, his three sisters and their parents as they prepare for and enjoy the activities, from shopping in the market and making home altars honoring dead relatives to visiting and eating with relatives living nearby, and decorating the graves and tombs of relatives.
The family's trip to the Oaxaca market provides the reader with information about the special foods for the Day of the Dead, including pan de muertos (bread of the dead) and Calaversas de dulce (sugar skulls). English translations or explanations are given for the Spanish words in the text. There is a glossary at the end of the book.
The book's colorful design and fascinating photographs capture the eye, and the text provides a concise, but intriguing, explanation of the three-day celebration of the Day of the Dead: All Hallows Eve, October 31; All Saints Day, November 1, and All Souls Day, November 2. The story ends with a picnic in the cemetery where Pablo's family, along with other village families, are "eating, singing, laughing, and keeping their dead relatives company."
The author also provides a three-page summary of the history of the Day of the Dead and an overview of how it is celebrated today in Mexico and in Mexican communities in the United States. According to George Ancona, "Today the festival of the Day of the Dead is mainly a family celebration, a reunion of the living with their dead relatives." I would recommend "Pablo Remembers: The Fiesta of the Day of the Dead" for 7 to 11 year olds."
(review by Elizabeth Kennedy of ABOUT.COM online newsletter)

I'm so glad to see this book, as it was hard to find materials for children in our library on this Mexican holiday. V. Allain

This book explains the celebration "Dia de Muertos" through a story about a boy named, Pablo. The book has many pictures and is an accurate description of Day of the Dead in Mexico. Pablo is honoring his grandmother who died recently. The book shows all the traditional food, the celebration and the meaning behind it all.

Pablo Remembers is a beautiful book that explains what the celebration of Day of the Dead is all about. The photos are excellent and even though it is a children's book, I share it with high school students and adults who are unfamiliar with this custom. I think that it describes the preparations and symbolism used in this celebration very well.

Not to take away from the excellent reviews here -- but as an Anglo-Catholic Episcopalian, I was disappointed at Wright's lack of understanding of the Communion of Saints. He states that the practice of the invocation of the saints "seems to me to undermine, or actually to deny by implication, something which is promised again and again in the New Testament: immediacy of access to God through Jesus Christ and in the Spirit". NOTHING could be further from the truth about the invocation of the saints! For a valuable corrective to Wright on this issue, readers of this book should read "Be Still and Know" by one of the greatest of the Archbishops of Canterbury, Michael Ramsey. Ramsey states, "It is thus within the reflection of Christ's glory that the prayers of all the saints continue. Within the family of the saints we may ask the prayers of those who are near to the vision of God, and we may pray for all in earth or Paradise or heaven." He also says, "As God-bearer, Mary has helped in the creation of the Communion of Saints. As creature with ourselves she gives glory to her creator and ours, to her savior and ours. Herself more glorious than the cherubim and higher than the seraphim, she leads our praises to God." I wish Wright's book had reflected some of this ancient Christian wisdom.

THIS EXCELENT BOOK REFLECTS THE BEST SHORT SYNOPSIS THAT I HAVE READ OF THE PRINCIPAL ANGLICAN CONCEPTS OF WHAT HAPPENS WHEN ONE LEAVES THIS PRESENT EARTHLY LIFE.

N.T. Wright, recently appointed Anglican bishop of Durham, has had a distinguished academic and writing career as well, having taught at both Oxford and Cambridge, and being a frequent lecturer at Ivy League schools in America. He has authored theology texts, bible commentaries and histories, as well as devotional texts. This slim volume incorporates a bit of each of these types of literature, looking at the way Anglican tradition has treated our memory and understanding of the departed (the saints and others), as well as his own views on what a more biblically-based understanding would look like.

The text of this book grew out of lectures and sermons Wright delivered while canon theologian of Westminster Abbey. As part of his development of the subject, Wright explores the theology present in various hymns sung by Anglicans, particularly those around All Saints Day, the first of November. Wright admits the divisions that exist in Anglican polity, the tension between catholic and protestant sensibilities, and the problems with trying to come up with once-and-for-all formulations. In his first chapter, Wright looks at the development of ideas from the medieval times, including purgatory, limbo and other such doctrines not explicitly found in scripture. He concludes with different ways one may question such traditions, deciding for himself the best course of action to be a 'fresh reading of the New Testament' and recognition of more modern developments affecting the church.

Wright's second chapter lays out some of his ideas. He dismisses the idea of universal salvation (saying that, despite the fact that he was congratulated once upon a time for being a universal salvation-ist, he is not) as being the modern-day replacement for the idea of purgatory, and is often meaningless in its construct. Wright takes the bible seriously about heaven and hell without attaching too much literalism to the descriptions of the bible. Perhaps the most intriguing idea was the sense that humanity bearing the image of God is as much a vocation as it is a part of our being -- we are called to be Christlike, being in the image of God here understood as something we do as much as it is something we are.

Wright's third chapter will most likely appeal only to Anglicans -- it deals with liturgical issues surrounding All Saints and All Souls commemorations. The fourth chapter similarly deals the the 'Kingdom season', another liturgical/calendrical issue for Anglicans. The short conclusion, however, has a wonderful and brief discussion of how and why we continue to pray for the departed, if the idea of purgatory is no longer what it was. Wright's discussion of Professor Sir Norman Anderson and his unexpected argument in favour of the continued practice is a gem.

For Anglicans, this is a very worthwhile book. For other Christians, parts will have direct impact and interest, and the rest will demonstrate how other faithful Christians practice prayer and remembrance. At a mere 76 pages, this is a quick but valuable read.

Noted Scripture scholar and Anglican Bishop of Durham N. T. Wright is no stranger to controversy. A moderate within the Reformed strain of Anglicanism, he has issued thought provoking research that has caused the Church to better understand the Jewish roots of Christianity while also infuriating many Protestants by challenging their standard reading of St. Paul's epistles regarding the issue of justification. Simultaneous with his more technical works, he has also released a number of more popular works aimed at a general audience seeking to grasp disputed issues in the Church. He is the rare example of a Christian author who can both research the foundations of Christianity and teach the faith of the Church.

In For All the Saints?, Wright is aiming at the general audience in explaining his thoughts on what happens after we die. In a move that is sure to aggrivate all parties, he rejects praying to saints but accepts prayers for the dead. In the former case, he fully accepts that the saints in heaven might well be praying for us but sees no Scriptural justification for asking them to do so. One might challenge his Reformed presuppositions, but he consisently applies them and does not attack straw men. The result might be a predictable rejection of the belief in seeking the intercession of the saintly departed, but is a well thought out and sincere one.

It is very interesting how he approaches the issue of prayers for the dead. Wright concedes this was a Jewish practice that was adopted by the early Church and seeks to apply it within a Reformed framework. Rejecting the Western medieval notion of a tripartite Church - triumphant in heaven, expectant in purgatory, and militant on earth - he holds a bipartite Church that is both triumphant and expectant in heaven and militant on earth. The Church in heaven is triumphant as they are with Christ forever but expectant as they are not complete since they have not yet been resurrected. It is for the completion of God's purpose in their lives that we may pray for the saintly departed.

Throughout the book, Wright seeks to give latitude to those outside his ecclesial tradition while remaining faithful to his own principles. For All the Saints? stands as an excellent example of bringing a Catholic outlook into the Reformed tradition. For the more sectarian in that tradition, it will only confirm their ill feelings towards Wright, but for those honestly wrestling with these difficult issues, it is essential reading.

Arthur Daane is a documentary maker, a camera operator, and a lonely man. His wife and child, who died years earlier, haunt his waking life. He has a solid group of friends, a rag-tag trio of intellectuals who do their best to keep up his spirits, but as with all people suffering from the demons associated with the death of loved ones, their best can never be enough. So, he travels about Europe, working for commission when he needs the money, spending time on his personal project when he does not. He walks, he thinks, he remembers.

Soon, however, a new presence enters Arthur's life. She is Elik, a young Ph.D. student studying an obscure twelfth century Spanish queen. He is attracted to her mystery, she is attracted to his silence. A romance begins, one that is confusing to them both.

And that, in a nutshell, is the entire novel. Nooteboom writes at a leisurely pace, allowing Arthur to ponder all manner of philosophical and cultural problems. A walk for Arthur is not merely a walk - it is nearly an essay, with statues inspiring history, trees inspiring philosophy, dogs inspiring memory. Generally, Arthur's thought connections are interesting and relevant however, they often seem more padding than anything else.

The first hundred or so pages of the novel occupy themselves with Arthur's journey around Berlin, his current residence. While he walks, he remembers snippets of conversation with his friends Victor, Arno and Zenobia, these isolated items of character-building a prelude to a meeting at their favourite restaurant. Unfortunately, his three closest friends - the absent Erna notwithstanding - function more as mouthpieces for Nooteboom, rather than as characters in their own right. Conversations, when the occur, are punctuated with random facts that serve to link topics together, allowing the author to dazzle us with his varied and wide-ranging intellect. This is fine, except that Arthur's friends never progress beyond this fact-serving. They are stilted, because all they can be are repositories of knowledge. We are left to wonder why Arthur wants to be around them, and why they would want to be around him. A fine example comes from an early conversation between Arno and Victor:

'How on earth can you people call it cheese?'

'Luther, Hildegard von Bingen, Jakob Bohme, Novalis, and Heidegger have all eaten this cheese,' Arno said. 'The penetrating ordor that you smell is the German version of eternity. And the translucent substance that you see, with the dull sheen of candle wax, might very well represent the mystical heart of my beloved Vaterland.'

All very fine, but their conversations never progress beyond this babble of knowledge swapping. Are we expected to believe that there are people who talk like this? And if they have been eating at the same restaurant for years, surely Arno would not lambast the table with this nugget of information upon arriving at the cheese dish? It all smacks of a writer writing the scene, rather than people living in it. A shame, considering Nooteboom's obvious intelligence.

When the femme fatale, Elik, enters the story, the novel shifts focus. At first, we are led to believe that the plot will follow the ordinary, 'mysterious alluring woman' cliche, but it does not. No, almost immediately after Elik is introduced, we are allowed into her mind through a point-of-view section, and this dispels a large amount of her artificial mystery. A lesser novel would collapse once the shroud of the female has lifted, but if anything, All Souls' Day thrives. Elik and Arthur are dancers performing to a song they can't hear, with movements they don't know. We are led to believe that as confusing Arthur finds Elik, so to is Elik baffled by Arthur.

A large focus of the novel is the way history portrays us, and how we portray it. Elik immerses herself in a period of history that is so small, and so focused, that it is difficult for others to appreciate the reason for studying it in such detail. But isn't our own small slice of history just as irrelevant, ultimately? What claim can we have on the future, one hundred years from now, let alone a thousand? Coupled with these intriguing ideas comes the question of German guilt following World War II. Clearly, Berlin is a land steeped in history - some of it good, some of it not. Can we look at Hitler and the Holocaust as merely history? Nooteboom argues through his characters that we cannot, yet surely in a thousand years, that is exactly what scholars will be doing. How can we expect the future to be as affected as we are, on an event that to them, will have infinitely less relevance and impact? An unsettling idea, but one that is virtually unavoidable once presented.

There is beauty. A scene where Elik dances in an underground rave club, is moving in its horror. His description is note perfect, and shows clearly how someone away from that scene might interpret the clashing music: 'She seemed to know them, to assume a different voice, a kind of shout to be heard above the music, heavy metal, the sound of a factory producing nothing but noise, pounding figures on a dance floor, slave laborers working on an absent product, contorted bodies moving in time to a merciless beat, writhing with every lash of the whip, screaming along with what they seemed to recognise as words, a German chorus from Hell, raw voices scraped over jagged iron, poisonous metal.' This is, to my mind, a compelling interpretation of a chaotic scene. Other descriptions throughout are equally impressive, showing that when Nooteboom shifts out of pedagogic mode, he is more than capable of producing narrative gold.

Elik is an unsettling character. No, it is more than that - she is unpleasant. Even when we are allowed into her mind, it is difficult to sympathise. Yes, we appreciate her quest to learn all there is to know about Queen Urraca, but can we also appreciate her alternately hostile and baffling treatment of Arthur? We can't, and the novel suffers. We also cannot easily sympathise with Arthur's growing obsession, because of Nooteboom's intellectual distancing act. Because conversations as well as thoughts are so filled with information and philosophising that while interesting, adds little to the characters and indeed detracts from them, we just can't care enough about who is doing what and why.

I just finished reading this book and cannot recommend it enough. It is a sort of novel of ideas that encompasses traditional German philosophy as well as more modern issues. The story and characters are strong, and the portrayal of Berlin as an historical but ever-changing city is dead-on. This novel is longer than most of Nooteboom's others, but just as good a starting place if you're unfamiliar with his books.

This novel develops in a much slower, traditional way than Nooteboom's other novels but this slowness is appropriate for the subject matter. The strength of this novel is the incredible way Nooteboom through words, allows us to see the world as Arthur sees it - he processes visual images not words or logical formulations. We are drawn into his experience of verbal overload, of stumbling to say in words what is known in visual or aural images.

The second success of the novel is it's accurate portrayal of a specific intellectual time - Hegel, Camus, Volans, Pedereski, Hildegard ... it was so familar as to be eerie ... for the novel Berlin with Dutch, German, Russian individuals. And yet in some strange way the same as my college days in rural Wisconsin with students from Uganda, Honduras ... In some way Nooteboom has captured the intellectual life of an era and successfully made it universal.

Throughout the novel - verbally and by plot - the volume addresses the issue of history - personal, recent, and ancient. The juxtaposition of Arthur's visual record of history, of his friend's intellectual understanding and of his "girl friend's" archival search for history is effective at forcing the reader to think. Often this is done by small details - a statue that fallen still has a cap in place where a real cap would have fallen off, the timeless sound of conches in Japanese monasteries, the sound of tires on wet pavement ...

This is a novel that challenges the way you perceive the world rather than simply presenting the challenge that Arthur is facing. Arthur having lost wife and child in an airplane accident is forced to reevaluate his world. The novel says the rest of us should do so without a prod like Arthur's.

The first half is a poetic picture book with stunning illustrations and words in both English and Spanish while the second half is filled with information about the Day of the Dead, traditions, how to build an altar, poems and recipes. This is a great book for exploring other cultures and holidays with children and good to have if looking for another way to celebrate the beginning of fall.
I found it helpful in helping my children to remember relatives who have passed and to help take some of the fear out of death.

Having been born and raised in the Midwest, I've always had a fascination with Mexico's Day of the Dead. The idea that you could joyously celebrate the lives of family and friends who have passed on struck me as being unique and beautiful.

The Little-Bitty Book for the Day of the Dead starts with an imaginative and whimsical poem, in both English and Spanish, illustrated with the most charming group of skeletons that you are likely to encounter in a children's book.

Rounding out the book is information about The Day of the Dead, including suggestions on how to celebrate this popular Mexican holiday, with recipes for Pan de Meurto and sugar skulls.

This book is a must have for any multi-cultural children's library.

This "little-bitty" book is small in size but definitely not small in information. This book was packed full of all kinds of facts and ideas for Día de los Muertos. The book begins with a little story that is brilliantly illustrated in pen-and-ink with spot color. The illustrations are skeletons wearing clothes in the style of Juan Guadalupe Posada, the "patron saint" of Día de los Muertos illustrations. This story is a rhyming tale of the skeletons during the fiesta told in both English and Spanish. This is great because it can be read by patrons that read either language, and can improve bilingualism in those that are learning English or Spanish. These illustrations are more in the style of the holiday than any other print source I could find. After the story, the book becomes very informative. It gives the history of the holiday, and gives ideas to children on how to celebrate at the cemetery. It lists many ideas for making an ofrenda (altar and its offerings) for a departed loved one, and then gives recipes for making Pan de Muerto and a Sugar Skull.

Chloe Sayer offers readers a journey through the Day of the Dead. Into the darkness she goes, illuminating the honoring of the dead with written tributes from poets and novelists, and artwork from Mexico's greatest artists and handicrafters. The living play a special role with the dead, honoring them each year for a few days to help energize their spirits. A compact, beautiful little book.

Good things come in small packages is very true with this little book. At under a hundred pages and able to fit in your palm this is the perfect companion to take anyplace, anytime, anywhere. I recommend finding this authoritve book that is filled with many delightful pictures. The color and historical black and white photographs are all excellent, worth the price of the book alone. Anyone interested in the Day of the Dead and how it is celebrated in Mexico should add this little gem to their collection. Colectors like myself, of calaveras will love the Posadas, sugar skulls, papier-mache and other decorative skulls included in the book. The color photographs are outstanding and very different from the usual fair found in most books on this subject. Some of the historical photgraphs are of the rarely seen family portraits with children that have passed from this world.There is even a series of color postcards inside but it seems to be waste to pull them out. The text is minimal but highly informative complete with poems by Aztec kings and Sor Juana Inez De La Cruz honoring the dead. Several observers of the Mexican Day of the Dead are featured most notably Sergei Eisensteini's thoughts and reflections when he made "Que Viva Mexico"! There is a scene in the movie depicting the Day of the Dead and Eisenstein's scribbled notes, a primitive story book written on stationary from his stay at the Hotel Regis in Mexico city is included. An excerpt from Octavio Paz's "Labyrinth of Solitude" rounds out a concise view of the Day of the Dead. All in all this is a fascinating look and read of the celebration of death celebrated in November that dates back to the pre-conquest time period. The author, Chloe Sawyer, has written numerous books on Mexico and Peru and has lectured throughtout the world and is a Fellow of the Royal Anthropoligical Institute.