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THE LIGHTNING THIEF (PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS, BOOK 1)

Page history last edited by RichiesPicks 14 years, 7 months ago

06 July 2006 THE LIGHTNING THIEF (PERCY JACKSON AND THE OLYMPIANS, BOOK 1) by Rick Riordan, Hyperion/Miramax, paperback edition, April 2006, ISBN: 0-7868-3865-5

 

" 'Like it or not -- and believe me, plenty of people weren't very fond of Rome, either -- America is now the heart of the flame. It is the great power of the West. And so Olympus is here. And we are here.'

"It was all too much, especially the fact that I seemed to be included in Chiron's we, as if I were part of some club.

" 'Who are you, Chiron? Who...who am I?'

Chiron smiled. He shifted his weight as if he were going to get up and out of his wheelchair, but I knew that was impossible. He was paralyzed from the waist down.

" 'Who are you,' he mused. 'Well, that's the question we all want answered, isn't it? But for now, we should get you a bunk in cabin eleven. There will be new friends to meet. And plenty of time for lessons tomorrow. Besides, there will be s'mores at the campfire tonight, and I simply adore chocolate.' "

 

If I were to discuss the Boy Scouts of America, there would certainly be some harsh sentiments that I'd have to express, both in regard to the national organization and, also, in regard to my own recollections of having been an adolescent member. But among the Scouting experiences about which I have only positive memories are the couple of weeks each summer during the late Sixties that I spent at Woodworth Lake Scout Reservation in upstate New York.

 

Woodworth Lake was encountered at the end of the five-hour bus trip that would always commence at the crack of dawn from the Long Island suburb where I was growing up. Mornings at Woodworth Lake would begin with our trekking from our respective lakeside campgrounds to the dining hall where one member of each assigned table had arrived even earlier in order to set the table and serve as that day's waiter. The days would end after dark, with all of the groups in attendance at the camp coming together in a natural amphitheater location to perform skits for one another and to join together in song. (Thirty years later at circle time, I'd think back warmly to those campfire evenings as I taught preschoolers to sing such camp memories as "Waltzing Matilda," "Yellow Submarine," and "There's a Hole in the Bucket, Dear Liza.")

 

In between the morning and evening festivities, I'd get to tackle projects of my choosing that would lead to merit badges, swim in the bracing cold lake, hike for miles with my buddies, and swat mosquitoes. Woodworth Lake was where I learned to row well enough to be able to subsequently conquer the substantial winds and tides of Northport Bay and Huntington Harbor. It was the location of contests where a Crisco-covered watermelon would be tossed into the lake between two competing camp groups, or where late-night scavenger hunts were occasionally conducted, with success leading to coupons that were redeemed for tasty midnight snacks. And then there was that night in 1969 when we all sat together inside the canteen and stared in awe as Neil Armstrong walked on the moon.

 

Sure, there were plenty of guys with whom I became friendly over those years, as a result of attending patrol and troop meetings back at home. But there was a whole different bonding that developed between those of us who spent afternoons together, developing skits for the evening campfire, and mornings together, waking up hours away from our families and familiar living patterns.

 

I'm currently sitting up in bed, hours from home, the only light coming from the laptop in my lap. It's an hour before sunrise, and there's a freight train whistle in the distance -- something we stopped hearing in our part of the world decades ago. Sunrise will lead me and Shari back out to the gorgeous Sierra lakes, trails, and vistas that we're experiencing this week. Traveling hours away from home in order to wander through and over mountains is clearly one of those learned behaviors resulting from my summer camp experiences.

 

Although Percy Jackson's summer camp experience clearly shares some similarities with mine, as well as with those of most adolescents venturing away from home and habit, it would be safe to say that Percy's summer camp experience at Half-Blood Hill (beginning shortly after the incident in which he unwittingly vaporizes his pre-algebra teacher) also involves quite a few dissimilarities from the summer camp norm:

 

"We must have been on the north shore of Long Island, because on this side of the house, the valley marched all the way up to the ocean, which glittered about a mile in the distance. Between here and there, I simply couldn't process everything I was seeing. The landscape was dotted with buildings that looked like ancient Greek architecture -- an open-air pavilion, an amphitheater, a circular arena -- except that they all looked brand new, their white marble columns sparkling in the sun. In a nearby sandpit, a dozen high school-age kids and satyrs played volleyball. Canoes glided across a small lake. Kids in bright orange T-shirts like Grover's were chasing each other around a cluster of cabins nestled in the woods. Some shot targets at an archery range. Others rode horses down a wooded trail, and unless I was hallucinating, some of their horses had wings."

 

In the wake of a horrifying series of experiences at the end of the school year, Percy Jackson, a self-described "troubled" kid, finds himself at Half-Blood Hill. And he comes to find out that his dyslexia, his attention deficit disorder, his mediocrity in school, his knack for inevitably causing disaster on school field trips, all stems from his being the product of a relationship between a mortal and a Greek god.

 

"Being a half-blood is dangerous. It's scary. Most of the time, it gets you killed in painful, nasty ways."

 

Teaming up with a satyr named Grover and a bright girl named Annabeth (The author repeatedly teases readers with subtle allusions to HP.), Percy Jackson sets out with his new-found powers on a quest to...

 

" 'So let me get this straight,' I said. 'I'm supposed to go to the Underworld and confront the Lord of the Dead.'

" 'Check,' Chiron said.

" 'Find the most powerful weapon in the universe.'

" 'Check.'

" 'And get it back to Olympus before the Summer Solstice, in ten days.'

" 'That's about right.'

"I looked at Grover, who gulped down the ace of hearts.

" 'Did I mention that Maine is very nice this time of year?' he asked weakly.' "

 

Filled with out-of-this-world adventures, and chapter titles like, "I Play Pinochle with a Horse," "I Become Supreme Lord of the Bathroom," and "I Ruin a Perfectly Good Bus," Percy Jackson's search for himself is the ultimate summer camp experience.

 

Richie Partington

http://richiespicks.com

BudNotBuddy@aol.com

 

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