Special thanks go out to Ms. Katie Dersnah Mitchell (Mrs. Mitchell, if you’re nasty) who sent a few special books our way. As we go through them, trying to pick out the worst parts (which in these cases is like picking out the worst Lindsay Lohan or Britney buh-gina flasher moment), here’s a little something to keep you warm at night. And to keep me from calling DFS on my neighbors whose kid seems to cry a non-stop wail morning-night. At this point, I think it might be a Greek widow up there instead of a kid crying because his mom has a new boyfriend and no college degree.
This book is so stupid, the cover illustrator gave up trying to do a half-way decent job.
Okay, is the portrayal of her little brown friend in the background racist or just plain lazy? I am known for my startlingly accurate stick figures and let me tell you, I could draw drunk circles around Arnold Spilka. I wonder if he has Schpilkas in his ganektagazoink? And the title, “Penny in Hawaii”? It’s like they’re not even trying. Sadly, Penny doesn’t die from getting leied while surfing. Instead, she and her readers are made to learn all about Hawaii, its wonderful cultures and traditions, history and so forth in social studies lessons disguised as a really bad, stilted, and forced story. I HATE when a book tricks you like that. It’s worse than discovering your JDate means cocaine orgy when he tells you you’re going to a “white party.*”
Well, as long as we’re here, we might as well learning something about Hawaii’s rich culture.
Oh Penny, Larry will show you want three-finger poi really means later! Like Mother said, if it’s thick, it only takes TWO fingers. She should know!
I like how Mother and Larry speak like paragraphs from a fifth-grade social studies textbook. They segue from making boring lectures to coming up with insults kindergarteners would find gay and retarded.
“You’ll like that I know.” ??? Really? Is this how kids in Hawaii speak? No wonder we want to colonize the hell out of it. Not just because we could charge $10 for a drink to retirees from Iowa and Witchita brides on their honeymoons. But mainly because apparently all children speak in long, pedantic sentences about the traditions and history of their culture to well-meaning white people. It’s like they were ready for tourism! Plus, they don’t want to hang out with you after the lecture. They go home and make leis with their grandmas. Good natives know and keep their places!
Oh Aunt Gerri, who gives a crap about some ritual that used to have significance when you can expound on monkeypod? I wonder if malihini haole has the same insider meaning as goy does? “Oh sure, it just means ‘white newcomer’.”
The thing is, there are over 200 pages of this drivel!
*True story. Ask my sister.