Slyvester and the Magic Pebble is a beloved children's book written and illustrated by William Steig. It tells the story of a young donkey named Slyvester who discovers a magic pebble that grants any wish he desires. One day, while strolling through the meadow, Slyvester comes across a shiny red pebble. Intrigued by its beauty, he picks it up and soon discovers its magical powers. Slyvester excitedly tests out the pebble by wishing for a pile of delicious strawberry ice cream, and to his astonishment, his wish is granted instantly. Overwhelmed with joy, Slyvester runs home to share news of his newfound discovery with his parents.
ORATION. by Hon. Edward Everett.
Although the march was less than a mile, Lamon had brought thirty horses into town, and Wills had supplied a hundred, to honor the officials present. In The Words That Remade America, the historian and journalist Garry Wills reconstructed the events leading up to the occasion, debunking the myth that President Lincoln wrote his remarks at the last minute, and carefully unpacking Lincoln s language to show how in just 272 words he subtly cast the nation s understanding of the Constitution in new, egalitarian terms.
Overwhelmed with joy, Slyvester runs home to share news of his newfound discovery with his parents. However, on the way home, Slyvester encounters a ferocious lion named Uncle Herman. In his panic, Slyvester accidentally makes a wish to be turned into a rock with the pebble still in his hoof.
Walking the Streets with Geoff Dyer & Garry Winogrand
In Geoff Dyer’s first book about photography, The Ongoing Moment (2005), the English critic and novelist looked at images by a group of his favorite photographers through a prism of motifs that he believed had reoccurred like Jungian archetypes across decades and continents. How and why these mundane subjects or objects (blind people, hats, roads, clouds, benches, doors, gas stations, barber shops) had been successively reinterpreted by Paul Strand, Walker Evans, André Kertész, Eugène Atget, Dorothea Lange, Robert Frank, Diane Arbus, William Eggleston, and thirty-four others formed the basis for a series of uncommonly original and engaging, if at times wayward, observations and reflections. Emulating Roland Barthes, Dyer oscillated between close readings of individual pictures and free associations. A photograph by Kertész from 1914, of an old man walking at night in Hungary, say, reminds him of a Cavafy poem because he reads both as nostalgic documents.
Dyer’s new book, The Street Philosophy of Garry Winogrand, is more linear but no less idiosyncratic. Selecting one hundred images from among the estimated one million that the fantastically prolific street photographer made during his life (1928–1984), Dyer analyzes each one in jaunty riffs that are longer than extended captions but shorter than fully-formed essays. This format, pioneered by the curator John Szarkowski in his books Looking at Photographs (1973; revised 1999) and Atget (2000), requires condensed thought. Dyer is limited to only about 750 words per photograph, with no spillover to the next two-page spread. At the same time, the serial presentation encourages informality. Expansive arguments are hard to sustain when you’re aware of a quickly upcoming, obligatory cut.
The structure suits Dyer’s talents perfectly. Arranging Winogrand’s life and career in a rough chronology, Dyer has portioned his selection so that about one sixth is devoted to the 1950s, when this Bronx-born son of Jewish working-class parents was exploring New York City with his camera, both on assignments from magazines and following his own instincts. Fully two thirds date from the 1960s, when Winogrand was in peak form, hungry each day to match his wits with an unpredictable world as he hit the sidewalk, cramming the era’s pandemonium into his 35mm wide-angle frames with an unrivaled voracity. The 1970s are the least represented here (Winogrand left NYC for good in 1973 and, many believe, was never as great again), while a final one sixth of the book tracks his sad, aimless last years in Los Angeles during the 1980s.
Garry Winogrand Archive/Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
New York City, circa 1964
Garry Winogrand Archive/Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
New York City, 1961
Garry Winogrand Archive/Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
New York City, 1950s
Garry Winogrand Archive/Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
New York City, 1964
Along with detailed analyses of each image, Dyer also, more ambitiously, tries to answer a question that Winogrand asked himself: “How do you make a photograph that’s more interesting than what happened?” Winogrand was adamant that the image always depicted something different from that which was framed. “The photograph isn’t what was photographed. It’s something else. It’s a new fact.”
Dyer treats Winogrand’s images as historical evidence of time and place—of changes in fashion, urban planning, mass communications, civil rights for African Americans, sexual freedom for women and men, class and gender conflict—but also as a kind of fiction. Whatever information a photograph contains, this book suggests, is often dwarfed by what we can never know—and thus are at liberty to make up and turn into stories.
The raucous sprawl of Winogrand’s vast output has seemed to defy containment. Szarkowski organized the 1988 retrospective at MoMA according to where the pictures had been taken, with categories such as “The Zoo,” “On the Road,” and “Airport.” Leo Rubinfien, who curated the larger 2013 retrospective at SFMoMA, arranged the work by periods of Winogrand’s career: “Down from the Bronx,” “A Student of America,” and “Boom or Bust.”
Not beholden to the norms and restrictions of museum curation, Dyer has built his book’s selection more eccentrically on motifs, such as the quartets of women (and men) that reappear in pictures taken on the street decades apart. They aren’t, of course, the same people. Dyer thinks of them, nonetheless, as related, as characters in a feature film who, as they age, “are played by different actors.”
The obliviousness of people talking to unknown others in transparent phone booths—“almost as important to Winogrand as they were to Clark Kent”—is another theme Dyer identifies, along with attention to hairstyles and shoes. “Winogrand, a big and hulking photographer distinguished by his nimble footwork, was a wonderful photographer of feet.” Dyer usually details what’s happening in an image—not so easy in many of the crowd scenes—before revving up his imagination. About a 1970 photograph of a confusing mêlée in Central Park, he writes that “once a fight is in progress it’s often difficult to distinguish between peacemakers trying to stop the fight and those enthusiastically participating in it.” He notes that the fighters here are “without any clearly demarcated racial allegiances,” and that one of them wears sandals, “a radical practical and psychological disadvantage.” Finally, he envisions the congas player on the left edge of the frame as “beating out an improvised sound track!”
Garry Winogrand Archive/Center for Creative Photography, University of Arizona
New York City, 1964
In an instant, Slyvester is transformed into a cold, grey rock, leaving him unable to use the pebble to reverse his wish. Days go by, and Slyvester's family become desperate to find him. They organize a search party and comb the area where he went missing. Their desperate search eventually brings them to the rock Slyvester has become. Although they are moments away from giving up, they notice the pebble still clutched in the hoof of the rock. Slyvester's father realizes the pebble's power and wishes for the rock to become Slyvester once more. To everyone's delight, the magic works, and Slyvester is restored to his donkey form. Overjoyed, the family celebrates their reunion and vows to never take their loved ones for granted again. Slyvester and the Magic Pebble is a heartwarming tale that teaches important life lessons about the value of family and cherishing the ones we love. It emphasizes the power of wishes and serves as a reminder to be careful what we wish for. The book's charming illustrations and engaging storytelling make it a popular choice among readers of all ages..
Reviews for "Analyzing the Plot Structure of "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble"
1. Amanda - 2/5 stars - I found "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble" to be quite dull and uninspiring. The story revolves around a young donkey named Sylvester who discovers a magic pebble that grants wishes. While this premise initially seemed intriguing, the execution fell flat. The pace of the story was slow, and the characters lacked depth. Additionally, the illustrations were mediocre at best, failing to engage my interest. Overall, I would not recommend this book to others as I believe there are much better options available in the genre.
2. Jason - 1/5 stars - I was highly disappointed in "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble". The storyline was incredibly predictable and lacked any form of excitement. As an adult reader, I found it difficult to connect with the characters or become invested in their journey. The writing was overly simplistic, with no depth or emotional resonance. I can understand why children may enjoy this book, but from an adult perspective, it was a tedious and forgettable read.
3. Sarah - 2/5 stars - While "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble" had the potential to be a heartwarming tale, it ultimately fell short for me. While the concept of a magic pebble that grants wishes is intriguing, the story lacked any real substance or meaningful messages. The characters felt one-dimensional, and their actions were predictable. I also felt that the pacing was uneven, with certain parts dragging on while others felt rushed. Overall, I was left underwhelmed by this book and would not recommend it to others looking for a captivating children's story.
4. Mike - 2/5 stars - "Sylvester and the Magic Pebble" is a forgettable children's book in my opinion. The story is centered around a donkey who discovers a pebble with magical powers, but the plot lacks depth and fails to captivate the reader. The illustrations are mediocre at best and do not add any significant value to the overall experience. While some may find it charming, I found it to be a rather dull read and feel there are much better options out there in terms of children's literature.