The Dangerous Book for Boys! or How I Intend to Misspend my Summer
Monday, April 23rd, 2007
I only heard of The Dangerous Book for Boys today when I came across an interesting review, of sorts. This is the book missing from my childhood!![]()
The publisher has more about the book here, and the authors, Conn and Hal Iggulden, also have a fun video trailer linked from their site.
This is a dangerous book. If this falls into the hands of the wrong boy, he may grow up to be a man, and not some vapid, simpering, metrosexual wimp. Sheesh!
I have to say, I grew up on fun places- very fun, boy-friendly places. Woods, streams, rivers, lakes, and best of all, great friends. We were always playing the adventurers, swimming, biking, playing hockey, and building forts and other essential stuff. But lots of that stuff didn’t really work like we wanted it too.
What we needed was some single source of knowledge, a sort of swiss army knife of boyhood lore, that we could tuck into our rucksacks, dump out on the backyard lawn, or the garage workbench, and feed our creative, hungry and eager minds. Who knows what wonders we would have constructed, or how many garages we’d have burnt to the ground? The world is a sadder place. Ah – but no longer!
I’m looking for this book right away. I need it. My current job as DAD requires me to build stuff with my kids. Now, I have two daughters, but the oldest wants to build a rocket from junk she brought home from school – recycling curicullum activities, don’t ya’ know.
So far we’ve taken apart a toy washing machine to get the control panel, built wings from wooden fruit crates and attached them to a cardboard box fuselage. I think that this book covers making fireworks. I’m sure by now you catch my drift, don’t you. We may actually make this baby fly! I’m sure the oldest will volunteer the youngest, just turned 4, to be the test pilot. No end of love between those two.
If you’re confused that I’m writing about a boy’s book in the context of my daughters, then you are confused. You forget, like my cousin, Peter Pan, I’ve never grown up. I am myself one of the lost boys. This book is for me.
After reading this book, I will probably have more to say. However, my first estimate is that Conn and Hal Iggulden deserve the Nobel Prize. A worthy duo.
Note: I changed the title, since I haven’t yet spent my summer yet.