Late last December, I read A.A. Milne's
Winnie-the-Pooh books. I did
this because, well, I thought that I should. I figured since I have a
son of my own I should have these books in the family library and at
the very least I should read them. Up until I read these books, I had
only a vague idea of what they were and only through the same Walt
Disney lens that most of us have at the mention of Winnie-the-Pooh.
Of the four books, two of them are Pooh stories and two are straight
poetry. I found all of it to be somewhat quaint and very charming in
a mid-1920s rural English sort of way. I also found that I could read
these books to my then 2 ½ year old son and he stayed interested,
thanks in part to Ernest H. Shepard's illustrations.
