The Books: “From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” (E.L. Konigsberg)

Daily Book Excerpt: Children’s books:

Next book on the shelf is From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigbsburg

Who read this book as a kid and didn’t want to be Claudia and Jamie – camping out in the Metropolitan Museum? Like – how COOL was that??

As an adult, though, I can see just how good this book is – how sophisticated. It is actually written by “Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler” – and it is addressed to her lawyer “Saxonburg”. On occasion, Mrs. Frankweiler will interrupt her own narrative to give a slyly teasing or mocking comment to ‘Saxonburg” – as though she is having a running conversation with him throughout. It’s kind of a brilliant device. Because for most of the book, or for at least half of the book – you have no idea who Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler is. As far as the story is concerned – it is all about Claudia and Jamie deciding to run away – to teach their parents to miss them, basically – and appreciate them – and how they survive, by camping out in the Met, sleeping in one of the huge beds in one of the exhibits, and stealing pennies from the bottom of the fountain. Who is this Frankweiler woman and why does she know every intimate detail of this story? And why does she constantly give Saxonburg a hard time, about how uncultured he is, how shocked she is that he isn’t aware of this or of that? And who the hell is Saxonburg?? It all becomes clear … There’s a mysterious statue in the Metropolitan Museum … and Jamie and Claudia start to investigate it …. And it’s brilliant, that’s all. E. L. Konigsburg is a fantastic writer.

Here’s an excerpt.

From From the Mixed-up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler by E.L. Konigbsburg

“Come along, Sir James. To our bath. Bring your most elegant pajamas. The ones embroidered in gold with silver tassels will do.”

“Where, dear Lady Claudia, dost thou expect to bathe?”

“In the fountain, Sir James. In the fountain.”

Jamie extended his arm, which was draped with his striped flannel pajamas, and said, “Lady Claudia, I knew that sooner or later you would get me to that restaurant.”

(It makes me furious to think that I must explain that restaurant to you, Saxonburg. I’m going to make you take me to lunch in there one day soon. I just this minute became determined to get you into the museum. You’ll see later how I’m going to do it. Now about the restaurant. It is built around a gigantic fountain. Water in the fountain is sprayed from dolphins sculptured in bronze. The dolphins appear to be leaping out of the water. On the backs are figures representing the arts, figures that look like water sprites. It is a joy to sit around that wonderful fountain and to snack petit fours and sip expresso coffee. I’ll bet that you’d even forget yhour blasted ulcer while you ate there.)

Lady Claudia and Sir James quietly walked to the entrance of the restaurant. They easily climbed under the velvet rope that meant that the restaurant was closed to the public. Of course they were not the public. They shed their clothes and waded into the fountain. Claudia had taken powdered soap from the restroom. She had ground it out into a paper towel that morning. Even though it was freezing cold, she enjoyed her bath. Jamie, too, enjoyed his bath. For a different reason.

When he got into the pool, he found bumps on the bottom, smooth bumps. When he reached down to feel one, he found that it moved! He could even pick it up. He felt its cool roundness and splashed his way over to Claudia. “Income, Claudia, income!” he whispered.

Claudia understood immediately and began to scoop up bumps she had felt on the bottom of the fountain. The bumps were pennies and nickels people had pitched into the fountain to make a wish. At least four people had thrown in dimes and one had tossed in a quarter.

“Some one very rich must have tossed in that quarter,” Jamie whispered.

“Some one very poor,” Claudia corrected. “Rich people only have penny wishes.”

Together they collected $2.87. They couldn’t hold more in their hands. They were shivering when they got out. Drying themselves as best they could with paper towels (also taken from the restroom), they hurried into their pajamas and shoes.

They finished their preparations for the night, took a small snack and decided it was safe to wander back into the Great Hall to look again at their Angel.

“I wish I could hug her,” Claudia whispered.

“They probably bugged her already. Maybe that light is part of the alarm. Better not touch. You’ll set it off.”

“I said ‘hug’ not ‘bug’. Why would I want to bug her?”

“That makes more sense than to hug her.”

“Silly. Shows how much you know. When you hug someone, you learn something else about them. An important something else.”

Jamie shrugged his shoulders.

Both looked at Angel a long time. “What do you think?” Jamie asked. “Did he or didn’t he?”

Claudia answered, “A scientist doesn’t make up his mind until he’s examined all the evidence.”

“You sure don’t sound like a scientist. What kind of scientist would want to hug a statue?”

Claudia was embarrassed, so she spoke sternly, “We’ll go to bed now, and we’ll think about the statue very hard. Don’t fall asleep until you’ve really thought about the statue and Michelangelo and the entire Italian Renaissance.”

And so they went to bed. But lying in bed just before going to sleep is the worst time for organized thinking; it is the best time for free thinking. Ideas drift like clouds in an undecided breeze, taking first this direction and then that. It was very difficult for Jamie to control his thoughts when he was tired, sleepy, and lying on his back. He never liked to get involved just before falling asleep. But Claudia had planned on their thinking, and she was good at planning. So think he did. Clouds bearing thoughts of the Italian Renaissance drifted away. Thoughts of home, and more thoughts of home settled down.

“Do you miss home?” he asked Claudia.

“Not too much,” she confessed. “I haven’t thought about it much.”

Jamie was quiet for a minute, then he said, “We probably have no conscience. I think we ought to be homesick. Do you think Mom and Dad raised us wrong? They’re not very mean, you know; don’t you think that should make us miss them?”

Claudia was silent. Jamie waited. “Did you hear my question, Claude?”

“Yes. I heard your question. I’m thinking.” She was quiet for a while longer. Then she asked, “Have you ever been homesick?”

“Sure.”

“When was the last time?”

“That day Dad dropped us off at Aunt Zell’s when we took Mom to the hospital to get Kevin.”

“Me too. That day,” Claudia admitted. “But, of course, I was much younger then.”

“Why do you suppose we were homesick that day? We’ve been gone much longer than that now.”

Claudia thought. “I guess we were worried. Boy, had I known then that she was going to end ujp with Kevin, I would have known why we were worried. I remember you sucked your thumb and carried around that old blanket the whole day. Aunt Zell kept trying to get the blanket away from you so that she could wash it. It stank.”

Jamie giggled. “Yeah, I guess homesickness is like sucking your thumb. It’s what happens when you’re not very sure of yourself.”

“Or not very well trained,” Claudia added. “Heaven knows, we’re well trained. Just look how nicely we’ve managed. It’s really their fault if we’re not homesick.”

Jamie was satisfied. Claudia was more. “I’m glad you asked about that homesickness, Jamie. Somehow, I feel older now. But, of course, that’s mostly because I’ve been the oldest child forever. And I’m extremely well adjusted.”

They went to sleep then. Michelangelo, Angel, and the entire Italian Renaissance waited for them until morning.