The Nutcracker In Harlem

The Nutcracker In Harlem

Picture book
Of all the Nutcracker versions I've read to date, T. E.
McMorrow's The Nutcracker In Harlem, vividly illustrated by James
Ransome, is my all time favorite. It's set in the 1920's during the
Harlem Renaissance when jazz was beautifully altering American music.
On Christmas Eve Marie's whole clan is celebrating at her
house. Everyone else is singing and dancing. They want her to join
in. But she's afraid that she isn't good enough.
Marie falls asleep under the tree holding a new toy nutcracker.
When she wakes up the living room is full of white light. The tree,
ornaments, and toys grow bigger and come to life, dancing and
singing. When the party is in full swing, a mouse army invades,
planning to steal the Christmas goodies. The Nutcracker needs her help.
Will Marie find her voice in time?
This narrative reminds me of an incident from my own life. I
used to think I couldn't sing well enough to be in church choir. The
only being I sang to was Joey cat who joined me in a rumbling tenor
purr. (He currently is purrrforming a solo curled up on my lap.). One
day I auditioned for a play. I didn't realize I'd have to sing a
Capella. To me the choice was embarass myself or chicken out. My
brain froze. I could remember nothing but hymns. I belted out Let
All Mortal Flesh Be Silent to audition for The Evil Dead.
When I opened my mouth a clear strong alto came out. I was
hitting all the right notes. My listeners were stunned. The director
dropped her pencil.
So now I sing in choir and on stage. The moral of both
stories: sometimes a challenge can bring out a hidden gift.
If you have a younger child or grand put The Nutcracker In
Harlem on your shopping list. It's a great way to introduce the
robust vitality of jazz and the amazingness of the Harlem Renaissance.
On a purrsonal note, it's the last day of March break. Yesterday I
shelf read at Orono Public Library's juvenile wing. The librarians
can't believe how fast (and still meticulous) I now am. I owe it to
my hours serving and making hot sandwiches. (Thanks, Dining
services!) I'm up to 26 volunteer hours--74 to go. I bought a cat
shirt. A five cat shirt vaca! Today I went to Old Town Trading Post
with Eugene and bought his anniversary gift when he wasn't looking.
Now I just need to get packed for school and pick a cute shirt. All my
friends will want to know how the conference and my vaca went. You
know?
A great big shout out goes out to the people who run Old Town Trading
Post and their regulars who speak outdoor sports jargon a lot better
than I do.
jules hathaway



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