 |
(1997,
Marshall Cavendish, illustrations by S.D. Schindler; previously published in
The
North American Review)
What it's about:
One summer night, a bat
"flew
into the dining room
at the hotel restaurant
by the lake.
Mistake." |
| From this mistake, chaos ensues: panic on the
part of the guests dining at the restaurant, the waiters, maitre d', and chef.
Only one little girl keeps a cool head: "Strange
Melissa / at school they called her weird."
Quietly,
she frees the terrified bat --- just at the moment its life appears imperiled.
She is praised: "They called her kind to
animals, and smart / but no one had a clue / no one even knew / what was in her
heart." |
| I hope the reader does, though:
that there is a sympathy between two creatures who are both a bit
otherworldly, and love and live in their own freedom-protecting,
sometimes solitary ways. |
|
When and how CD
came to write Bat
in the Dining Room |
At the time I wrote this story, I owned a country
inn, not by a lake, but by a park... and a bat did get in its dining
room. We didn't have any
guests that night, but I wondered "What if we had had guests?"
Because I'm a pretty easy-going, nature-loving person myself, but when I'd
walked in and seen it circling around, I was startled too; I gasped and felt a
bit of fear. But mostly, I felt sorry for the bat. It was so trapped. I kept trying
various unsuccessful ways to get it out (most of which the more hysterical
characters in the story, like those pictured above, try). |
| Then I recalled I'd heard somewhere that bats have a kind of radar which allows
them depth perception despite their poor vision. I hit on the same
solution Melissa finds; just open the exit door. And out it flew. |
| I couldn't stop thinking about that moment when the bat finally flew out. I
thought about it for two days. Finally I said to myself, 'Okay, why don't you
write about it and see why this is so moving to you?' I sat down at the computer
and began. Up until the moment I started writing I felt I might write an essay,
for grown-ups, about the experience of the bat --- but this is the story
flowed out, almost exactly as it is. |
| About the
illustrations and illustrator |
| S.D. Schindler's pictures are very well-done and
very funny. I've gotten used to them, but they are not what I would have picked
for the book at all --- I pictured something much more mysterious than funny,
more painterly and sensual and serious. But I think S. D. and my editor, Judith,
felt that the text was serious enough, and its humorous side should be brought
out. |
| Who
it's dedicated to and why |
 |
This
story was dedicated to do very dear, very old friends, Louis and Elsie Freund,
both artists. They truly did "open doors and encourage flight," as
Melissa does. Louis is dead now, but Elsie is still very much alive, traveling,
and painting. I gratefully count these two among my
mentors.
(Left, Melissa looks up and sees the bat against the night sky
for just a moment after opening the door.) |
| Reviewers and
readers say... |
|
"an evocative,
lyrical prose poem."
|
|
--- School Library Journal |
| "a surprising
lovely book ... " lilting, loosely rhymed text about a bat who finds itself in an
alien indoor environment...The human pandemonium ensues and observant little girl
who imagines the way the bat must feel (and) lets it fly free ... her
identifying with the frightened bat will draw readers in, and her pleasure at
its escape provides a satisfying conclusion." |
|
--- Kirkus Reviews |
|
I'll tell you a secret... |
| This is one of my two favorite books to read aloud
when I go to visit schools. I love the way the rhymes kind of fall over each
other in the middle of sentences --- they surprised me as I was writing it and
they still surprise me. It is also more dramatic than most of my other
children's books: the bat really is in danger, and Melissa really is
able to help it. Also, I feel a little like Melissa, and always have: strange,
weird, like to be alone a lot, and a lot of my books are actually about this
need for solitude. (You can read about this in my Autobiography).
|
|