Favourite Story Research Articles

Sonia Rohini Hall

Sonia Rohini Hall was born in Colombo, the daughter of the late Sammy and Esther Dias Bandaranaike. “Why camest I into the wilderness?” said Sonia, walking into her Woodbridge kitchen...

Snapshots of tellings in interactions between adults and children aged two, three and three and a half in an Australian context

This paper examines how and by whom tellings with two young children are triggered at ages 23, 36 and 42 months. The data for the investigation is derived from a larger Australian English corpus of over 50 hours of interactions in the home, although one of the children is a bilingual Italian/ English-speaking child. The data is derived from two parent/child dyads, and in the case of the child aged 42 months, a triadic interaction between a mother, her own child and a second child. Using the micro-analytic methods of conversation analysis, the study analyses five samples of tellings. The first two describe how a child, Cassandra, aged 23 months, is invited to recount events of her day by her parents. The trigger for these tellings is the social activity of sharing everyday routine events. The next two samples focus on Rosie at 36 months who is also invited to share a telling by her parent about a birthday party celebration and one about a neighbourhood cat, Claude. The first telling is triggered by an object, a balloon from a birthday party from the day before, while the second is triggered by play involving the character of a cat, initially derived from a favourite story, Hairy Maclary. In the final sample, Cassandra, aged 42 months, initiates a telling about an experience at her grandmother’s which is trigged by a picture in a book. The analyses in each case reveal the interactional issues that arise in the action of telling and how these are dealt with by all participants. By focusing on the three ages, key features in the children’s participation in storytelling are uncovered.

Ghost in the Shell as a Cross-cultural Franchise: From Radical Posthumanism to Human Exceptionalism

ABSTRACTRupert Sanders’ American live-action adaptation of the Japanese franchise Kōkaku Kidōtai (The Ghost in the Shell) was highly anticipated by fans around the world. Beyond the pleasure of viewing another version of their favourite story, it was also celebrated as reflecting a wave of contemporary Japanese anime-inspired American live-action movies. Unsurprisingly, even before premiering, it received critical reviews due to some production decisions, mostly related to casting. These missed, in my opinion, the more significant discrepancies between the original franchise and the adaptation. I contend that whereas the Japanese franchise offers a philosophical existential exploration that is developed all the way to new frontiers of posthumanism, Sanders’ movie resorts to a eulogy of the physical human body and human existence as we know them, thereby duplicating the American Robocop formula. I interpret these discrepancies as revealing a return to an anthropo-centrism prevalent in American science fiction, and argue that they have implications beyond the case at hand.

Sukaq and the Raven by R. Goose & K. McCluskey

Goose, Roy & McCluskey, Kerry. Sukaq and the Raven. Illustrated by Soyeon Kim. Inhabit Media, 2017.
 Inhabit Media is a quality publisher and Sukaq and the Raven matches their usual exemplary quality of story and imagery. The story is a traditional legend from Inuit storyteller Roy Goose illustrated using Kim’s beautiful three-dimensional dioramas. This wondrous illustration style previously earned Kim the Amelia Frances Howard-Gibbon Illustrator’s Award for her work You Are Stardust and it is easy to see how her artwork is award-winning. The depth created by the illustrations perfectly complements the story which follows Sukaq as he falls into his favourite bedtime story—how the raven created the world. As with many of Inhabit Media’s works, this story is distinctly Inuit while remaining understandable to everyone which makes it extremely useful in classrooms and libraries.
 The audience for this piece could range from pre-reading children to later elementary students as the full-page illustrations provide enough interest to any reader. Most young readers will need a reading buddy due to the amount of text and the complexity of some words. Artistically-minded readers may be intrigued by the three-dimensional diorama illustration style though educators or librarians may find this story to be a great introduction to a craft program involving dioramas. Parents may also find this story works well as a bedtime story due to the flow and lack of interrupting onomatopoeias (boom, beep, etc.). I highly recommend this book given how the illustrations and story combine to create a book that is pleasing to readers of many ages.
 Highly recommended: 4 stars out of 4 Reviewer: Lorisia MacLeod
 Lorisia MacLeod is an Instruction Librarian at NorQuest College Library and a proud member of the James Smith Cree Nation. When not working on indigenization or diversity in librarianship, Lorisia enjoys reading almost any variation of Sherlock Holmes, comics, or travelling.

Peter Copeman: medical dermatologist who pioneered new classification of skin diseases

In 1958 the Lancet published “Treatment of Recurrent Styes” by Peter Copeman, a house surgeon in the eye department at St Thomas’ Hospital, London. It was the start of a...

Uncovering young children's emerging identities related to their literacy experiences: Suggestions to strengthen language education

The study explored how young children’s identities emerged from their drawings and accounts of their favourite stories as we argue the importance of understanding children in the context of school and language education. Sixty-six (n=66) children of two urban schools in Pretoria, South Africa were asked to write about and draw their favourite story. The participants were between the ages of six and seven years. Vygotsky’s socio-cultural theory and Chen’s theory of the construction of identity in a social context were used as conceptual framework. This conceptual framework could be linked to the findings which suggested that the children related their drawings and versions of their favourite stories to their interpretations of their life worlds. The prominent themes from the data could be associated with the self, the family, familiar objects and known animals. Their literacy experiences and the socio-cultural influences on the children’s construction of their identities were apparent in their work. We argue that teachers need to better understand how children understand themselves in relation to the world around them when making decisions about effective language education.

Ostrich by Edgar Williams. ISBN 978-1-78023-039-9. 184 pp. Paperback. £9.99. Gorilla by Ted Gott and Kathryn Weir. ISBN 978-1-78023-029-0. 232 pp. Paperback. £9.99. London: Reaktion Books Ltd., Animal Series, 2013.

As young and enthusiastic students of geography and biology respectively, my sister and I often used to spar over which of us was studying the biggest, most important subject. Since neither of us was reading maths or physics we couldn't go so far as to claim our subject would yield a universal theory of everything, but we did go to great lengths to establish links from our respective disciplines to all sorts of other obscure areas. Perhaps as a result of those occasionally heated discussions, I am continually drawn to the blurry No Man's Land between disciplines – it is a place to discover startling new truths, follow inviting lines of thought to exotic destinations and meet extraordinary people with otherworldly perspectives of your own familiar territory that can set everything in a new light. Not surprisingly it is also extraordinarily fertile ground for ideas to take seed and grow. The Animal series from Reaktion Books is mining these rich seams of interdisciplinary gold, touching on social, economic and political history, conservation, art and pop culture – to name a few. There are now over 60 of these distinctive and well marketed volumes, spotlighting a range of species from Camel and Cockroach to Tortoise and Trout. Some titles even have a matching t-shirt. The latest two titles are Gorilla and Ostrich. Both contain the series’ trademark blend of zoology and cultural information. If it's only the former that appeals, you may find more detailed and arguably more authoritative information elsewhere. Less than a third of either book constitutes what you could call biology. Neither Willams, nor Gott and Weir are full-time ostrich/gorilla specialists, but in both cases they offer an excellent introduction to their species, alongside a cultural and historical account you simply won't find in any other single source. In Ostrich, you'll discover not only how the male birds use their distinctive plumes, and how the trade in those same feathers gave rise to a huge industry – but also the subtleties of plucking vs. clipping, the absurdities of feather fashion and fascinating insights into ostrich symbolism. I'd never stopped to wonder whose feathers those were on the back of a two pence piece, and I'll bet hardly anyone notices the ostrich on the Bayeux tapestry. Ever wondered how many people you could feed with an ostrich egg omelette? Look no further. But perhaps my favourite story is the extraordinary tale of a clandestine expedition 100 years ago, which aimed to smuggle 156 uncooperative birds of a particularly desirable North African strain overland to Lagos and then by sea to a farm in South Africa. The boat was unsuitable and food ran out mid voyage, forcing the crew to spend weeks peeling thousands of onions to feed to their ungrateful cargo, who repaid them with further attempts to escape as soon as they reached land. There must be a movie script here, surely. Gorilla offers an equally eclectic look at its subject – incorporating a good overview of what we know of these gentle giants, and more poignantly, what they continue to teach us about ourselves, both in fictional contexts and in real life. This book is a great example of why the Animal series works so well – the content is highly informative, but the format frees authors from any requirement to be purely ‘scientific’. The final chapter of Gorilla deals with our relationship with this close cousin, and the apparently shrinking differences between us. With these magnificent great apes being afforded the equivalent of basic human rights in many countries, but still inching closer to extinction in the wild, it makes for a deeply thought-provoking read. So if you've not started your own Animal series library yet – these could be a good place to begin. I just wish I'd had them 20 years ago, when my little sister was claiming geography covered economics, culture and pretty much everything anyone on Earth had ever done. I could have explained (with a carefully measured dose of lofty condescension) that such a statement could only be made by someone woefully ignorant of the cultural significance of the ostrich. A knockout blow, surely.

The Great Cake Mystery: Precious Ramotswe’s Very First Case by A. McCall Smith

McCall Smith, Alexander. The Great Cake Mystery: Precious Ramotswe’s Very First Case. Illus. Iain McIntosh. New York: Anchor, 2012. Print.Adult readers around the world have been charmed by the best-selling “No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency” series, in which Mma Ramotswe tackles the troubling mysteries and personal problems of ordinary people, and does so by relying on her sharp wit and her extraordinary insight into human nature. In this book, young readers will be introduced to a school girl who is destined to become a great detective. Here, Precious Ramotswe – “one of the nicest girls in Botswana” challenges her classmates’ assumptions in order to solve her first case. The story begins when Precious asks her beloved father to recount her favourite story: an account of the time he was “nearly eaten by a lion”. Since young Precious can tell which parts of his story really happened and which parts are made up, her father suggests that she might become a detective someday. His idea is soon put to the test when her classmates begin to notice that their lunch-time treats are being stolen from the outside shelf where they leave their bags during school. When the children scapegoat a shy boy with a sweet tooth, Precious realizes that she will need to do more than find the truth, she will need to prove it.This book has the charm of the original series, and is recommended for readers aged 7-10 years old. It offers an engaging story and several life lessons. Further, the story offers young readers a glimpse of ordinary daily life in Africa, and the author hopes it “will inspire them to read more about that wonderful continent and its remarkable people” .In a note addressed to the reader at the back of the book, the author tells us that families have been reading his “No. 1 Ladies’ Detective Agency” series aloud together, but acknowledges that the series would be challenging for young readers to read on their own, and so this book has been written with young readers in mind. Teachers and librarians who are fans of Mma Ramotswe will enjoy sharing her adventures with young readers, and will be pleased to find various curriculum materials at the back of the book.Highly recommended: 4 stars out of 4 Reviewer: Linda QuirkLinda is Assistant Special Collections Librarian at the Bruce Peel Special Collections Library at the University of Alberta.

A brief history of Australian microbiology

Acquired over a long period of time, Australia has an enviable record of involvement in the discipline of microbiology and continues to punch above its weight in terms of research output and translational outcomes. A comprehensive review of those involved, the characters and institutions, their achievements, successes and failures is far beyond the scope of this short article. So instead, a snapshot of a few of the interesting highlights from one person's perspective will be provided. I apologise in advance for any omission of your favourite story, character or advance in the field of microbiology that flavours your own view of this enthralling area of Australia's scientific legacy.

The Three Little Pigs

In this month's article we continue with the traditional fairytale theme by looking at starting points for practical and creative activities based on another favourite story; The Three Little Pigs.

Three Billy Goats Gruff

In this month's article we continue with the traditional fairytale theme by looking at starting points for practical and creative activities based on another favourite story; Three Billy Goats Gruff.

Rapunzel

In this month's article we continue with the traditional fairytale theme by looking at starting points for practical and creative activities based on another favourite story; that of Rapunzel.

Beautiful is not (necessarily) right: Overcoming the Phryne's trial syndrome

BioEssays Editorial Board Member We live in times where image is everything. Today, a 2 year-old child has seen orders of magnitude more images during his short life than the founders of modern Science (Galileo, Newton, Mendel etc.) could have observed during their entire existence. The seminal text of modern genetics, Versuche über Pflanzen-Hybriden by Gregor Mendel (1866) contains not a single illustration, merely text, numbers and a few tables. Even the legendary 1953 Nature paper by Watson and Crick on the structure of DNA has but one meagre black-and-white sketch of the double helix. In contrast, attractive coloured images are now a must in any respectable journal. It is easy to understand why papers published in leading, and not so leading, journals (in particular in the Life Sciences domain) are increasingly filled with colourful, supposedly self-explanatory, figures. Customary perusal of new issues of one's favourite journal most often starts by randomly looking at the invariably ‘nice’ images. Publishers encourage authors to submit coloured figures by decreasing – or just waiving – production charges. Some journals even instruct contributors to produce a graphical abstract to summarise the contents of the paper in pictorial form, with the explicit purpose of capturing the attention of a wider readership online. These days a text without images looks boring. But one wonders whether all this increasingly picture-book science does particular service to knowledge. One disadvantage of such practices is the shift from an abstract, often demanding, way of thinking, to mere visual reasoning. Since intelligence does not map to the visual cortex of our brain, it seems a bit dangerous to overdo imagery as the main support for a given conclusion in experimental science. The traditional abuse of optical or electron microscopy pictures selected to document biological phenomena (without proper statistics) has multiplied ad infinitum in recent years, notably with the widespread use of GFP (green fluorescent protein) and its multi-coloured variants. The most recent literature is packed with examples where the beauty of the (visual) result has obviously caused reviewers and readers to lower their guard and take for granted phenomena that old-school molecular biology would have subjected to fastidiously painstaking experimental verification. Every scientist has a favourite horror story in which a handsome image has led to a mistaken conclusion. The famous Bayer's adhesion sites that appear in electron micrographs of thin sections of Escherichia coli, and which were first claimed to explain inter-membrane protein transmigration, were later demonstrated to be an artificial post-mortem enhancement of streams of proteins. Beautiful biofilm architectures revealed by GFP-labelled bacteria growing on a surface, and examined with confocal laser microscopy, have been the subject of the most extravagant interpretations, most of them probably wrong. Structures of countless proteins have been proven erroneous after having been published as beautiful 3D predictions. I have myself succumbed to the lure of a good image by assigning a wrong function to a hole visible with the electron microscope in the centre of a multi-protein complex in bacterial auto-transporter proteins. Is there anything we can do to counter our innate tendency to accept as right what we see, and importantly, what we see as beautiful? In the Athens of the 4th century BC, a most attractive woman called Phryne was taken to court accused of very serious crimes. When it seemed that the verdict of the trial would be unfavourable, Phryne's advocate, Hypereides, tore open Phryne's robe and displayed her naked, which so impressed the judges that they set her free. The beauty of the image caused the judges' critical spirit to desert them – surely a sign of divine favour for Phryne in those times that lacked plastic surgery! Let us celebrate the beauty that many new imaging techniques allow us to extract from biological systems, but let us also be vigilant of the erroneous interpretations that the same images may lead us to. The worst fate of Biology would be to become a merely visual science rather than a quantitative discipline. More numbers and fewer images, please! Perhaps publishers should ask authors to produce a quantitative and machine-readable summary of their papers rather than (or in addition to) a graphical abstract. Aesthetics might lose, but knowledge would surely win.

Was the EU's Role in Conflict Management in Macedonia a Success?

This article explores the EU's role in ethnic conflict management in Macedonia—once a favourite success story, now a case whose outcome appears increasingly uncertain. Through a historic and conceptual overview of the relations between EU/EEC and the Republic of Macedonia, this study analyses whether the EU's intervention can be considered a success. The paper examines the impact of the EU during the pre-conflict period, in the armed conflict in 2001 itself, in shaping the mediation effort leading to the Ohrid Framework Agreement, and in the management of the post-conflict phase. The EU's role as a power broker in de-escalating the armed conflict in 2001 and in securing the Ohrid Agreement occurred, it is argued, because of the EU's promotion of a perception that Macedonia had a clear perspective for EU membership. The prolonged stalemate in the accession process between Macedonia and the EU since the agreement has induced widespread scepticism about the credibility of the EU's incentives for compliance and the good faith of the EU as a conflict manager, thus threatening to destabilize Ohrid.

Rhythm and rhyme

Good reading is creative. A good reader thinks ahead, predicts, guesses, wonders, looks back, makes bits up. Good readers are also accurate. Try reading a child a favourite story in the wrong order, or missing out a page. Not all children, however, naturally fall into these habits of interaction and accuracy. Their ‘reading’ needs to be challenged, woken up and teased into life: this can be done through poetry before they can read or write a single word.

Making masks

You can use these masks to bring the characters alive in a favourite story or poem, for role play, or with older children as part of a play they have written and want to perform

Story Telling is Not Fibbing!

We all have a favourite story or stories that we have filed away in our memory banks. These may be fables, fairy tales, stories of family origins as told by an elderly relative or be even a naughty tale picked up from one of our friends and retold to a few of our buddies. When one shares one's favourite story one becomes a storyteller. This art of passing on information orally dates back to a much earlier time. The purpose of this article is not to deal with the development of oral language and the sharing of information around a smoldering fire but rather to deal with storytelling as an essential building block in the reading process.

Something from nothing: exploring dimensions of children's knowing through the repeated reading of favourite books

Witte‐Townsend and DiGiulio explore some of the dimensions of knowing that children, teachers and parents may engage together during story‐time. They reflect on some of their own long‐term relationships with children and children's books, especially Phoebe Gilman'sSomething from nothing (published in 1992) and Simms Taback'sJoseph had a little overcoat, published in 1999. The authors probe issues such as why children ask to hear a favourite story over and over and why they suddenly abandon all interest and move on to a new book. They explore the meaning of the silences that sometimes arise during story‐time, pooling around the young listeners as the last words of the book are read. Witte‐Townsend and DiGiulio remind us of the value of literature in the lives of children and they affirm that the reading and re‐reading of favourite stories enables the understanding of complex human issues and contributes significantly to social, emotional and spiritual growth.

An extract from "The Internet of Love"

An extract from "The Internet of Love"

Talking about maths

This article looks at why talk is important for young children learning mathematics, how talk fosters mathematical understanding and the importance of having something to talk about by relating maths to real situations. It then looks at the revealing comments of some four and five year old children talking about simple number activities linked to a favourite rhyming story song they had been singing.