“Oh hear the call!-Good hunting all, That keep the Jungle Law!” -Night-Song in the Jungle When young little Mowgli’s parents are run out of their camp by a formidable Bengal tiger, the toddler scampers to safety alone in the cave of a Seeonee wolf pack. Thereafter, forest animals succor Mowgli, and through his wits and their kindness, he reaches adulthood. Paradox exists in this paradise, but nowhere more forcefully than in the Bengal tiger, Shere Khan. In the contest that must occur between Shere Khan and Mowgli, which will triumph: the human intelligence of Mowgli, or the deep, instinctive cunning of the wily striped cat? Rudyard Kipling, who was forced to learn the art of self-preservation at a foster home and boarding school, believed in following the “Law of the Jungle.” Part silly, part serious, the delightful stories in The Jungle Book convey Kipling’s message in a way that children and adults alike appreciate.
From Mongoose to Mowgli, Political Correctness Be Damned, As Good Tales Deserve to Be Shared and Shared Again I have read (and loved) Kipling since I was very young. And now, in my dotage, I decided it was long past the time to share him and his works with my grandchildren. Maybe they will also want a mongoose for a pet after reading about the magnificent battles of Rikki-Tikki-Tava, something neither the law nor my mother would abide in those distant days of my past. Or find solace in some of this poems as life speeds past as I have for more decades than I now care to admit. Kipling was not, by…
A beautiful edition I love Ingpen’s work with Sterling Illustrated Classics. This edition of The Jungle Book is going to be my daughter’s literature book next year (3rd grade, 9 years old). This is our third volume illustrated by Ingpen. I intend to add as many of them as I can find to my kids’ permanent collections.Â
Great Books for Children and Adults When my grandfather died when I was five years old, we inherited his complete set of Kipling. We lived in a very small town with no library, and I practically ate Kipling’s books. When I was thirteen, my mother decided to give them to the library. I protested, yelled, cried, and told her that I needed them for my master’s thesis. She told me I was too young to know what I wanted to write my thesis about.Â