I Won a Dangerous Book for Boys

While perusing the sites I frequent a week or two ago, I came upon a post at Neatorama that caused me to just about fall out of my seat. It wasn’t their funniest post, not by a long shot. The post was there to let us know about a book that is now available in the US called “The Dangerous Book for Boys”

This book contains all sorts of information useful to a growing boy. These are the kind of skills that, I believe, boys should know. At least for the most part. I don’t even know all of these things, and will be learning this summer right alongside Ben. I was going to list a few of the articles that I am most looking forward to, but the list was so long that I might as well just give you the table of contents. Yes, it is that promising. You can see it at Amazon.com through the link that I have provided earlier and will share once more. Also there is a fascinating interview that Amazon conducted with the author. Here’s my favorite Q/A exchange from there.

Amazon.com: It’s difficult to describe what a phenomenon The Dangerous Book for Boys was in the UK last year. When I would check the bestseller list on our sister site, Amazon.co.uk, there would be, along with your book, which spent much of the year at the top of the list, a half-dozen apparent knockoff books of similar boy knowledge. Clearly, you tapped into something big. What do you think it was?

Iggulden: In a word, fathers. I am one myself and I think we’ve become aware that the whole “health and safety” overprotective culture isn’t doing our sons any favors. Boys need to learn about risk. They need to fall off things occasionally, or–and this is the important bit–they’ll take worse risks on their own. If we do away with challenging playgrounds and cancel school trips for fear of being sued, we don’t end up with safer boys–we end up with them walking on train tracks. In the long run, it’s not safe at all to keep our boys in the house with a Playstation. It’s not good for their health or their safety.

You only have to push a boy on a swing to see how much enjoys the thrill of danger. It’s hard-wired. Remove any opportunity to test his courage and they’ll find ways to test themselves that will be seriously dangerous for everyone around them. I think of it like playing the lottery–someone has to say “Look, you won’t win–and your children won’t be hurt. Relax. It won’t be you.”

I think that’s the core of the book’s success. It isn’t just a collection of things to do. The heroic stories alone are something we haven’t had for too long. It isn’t about climbing Everest, but it is an attitude, a philosophy for fathers and sons. Our institutions are too wrapped up in terror over being sued–so we have to do things with them ourselves. This book isn’t a bad place to start.

As for knockoff books–great. They’ll give my son something to read that doesn’t involve him learning a dull moral lesson of some kind–just enjoying an adventure or learning skills and crafts so that he has a feeling of competence and confidence–just as we have.

Can you see why I would be so excited about this book? I will keep it toward the top of my Amazon wish list until it arrives. Oh… this post is about me winning the book, right? To win the book, the readers of Neatorama were asked to comment about our most memorable Sunday afternoon experiences/activities with our fathers/sons or just share some fun and educational (funducational?) activity to do with a child on those long summer days. Here is my (winning) entry:

I remember my childhood well, because 33 years into my life, I’m still a child at heart. I grew up out in the country, where boys could be boys without disturbing the neighbors. The down side is that the neighbors couldn’t hear the boy’s screaming. Or was that the up side?

I was out hiking with a friend of mine through the timber and it was getting late. The timber was only a mile square, because all roads where I grew up were square miles, but it seemed like we would never make it home. What do you do, but take a short cut!

The short cut was rougher terrain, and we were both bruised and scratched up, but were making (it seemed) good time. Eventually, we reached the mud cliff.

I don’t know how else to describe it. The grass stopped, and there was an almost vertical cliff of mud directly in our way. We didn’t look for any alternative, but chose to hit the mud head on. We squirmed up and down that cliff for almost an hour, sweating and grunting the whole time. One of us would get about halfway up, and then the other would watch him slide right back down.

After a time, we were exhausted and sat in the newly-formed mounds of mud at the bottom and started to strategize our approach. My friend looked over, not ten feet from where we sat, where the hill would take us in the same general direction, but was much more stable.

Five minutes later, we were out of the timber and on the road, a short walk from home, a hose down, and a (now cold) supper.

I wouldn’t have traded that day for anything.

Yes, sometimes the most direct approach is not the most intelligent approach. How about you? Do you have any childhood memories to share?