NonFiction BookTalker-<p/>Castles in the Air

Long before a skyscraper grazes the clouds or a bridge extends across a canyon, an architect or engineer has had a dream. Tell your booktalk listeners the amazing stories behind some of the world's greatest structures, and they'll discover how often dreams come true.

Lynn Curlee's Brooklyn Bridge (Atheneum, 2001) describes the dream project of a resilient American family.

In the 1800s, Brooklyn and New York were separate cities, divided by a river and accessible only by ferry. Engineer John Roebling devised a meticulous plan for the construction of a bridge, but then tragedy struck. A ferry collided with the dock he was standing on, injuring his foot. The infection developed into tetanus and Roebling died. His son Washington, then only 32 years old, assumed the massive project.

It was to be a suspension bridge, hanging between two stone towers anchored firmly below the water. The subsurface working conditions were hellish—hot, filthy, and frightening—and as the workers went deeper, they fell ill. Today, we call this preventable condition "the bends," and Washington Roebling himself became an invalid because of it. Like his father before him, he had to pass on the project—this time to his wife, Emily. The glorious Brooklyn Bridge stands as a monument to the Roebling family.

The first people who crossed the bridge into New York didn't see the skyscrapers we see today. But by the late 1800s, all the necessary elements were coming together: steel understructures, elevators, and also modern plumbing. No one wants to climb 20 flights of stairs to go to work—and then climb back down to use the bathroom!

Skyscrapers (Holiday House, 2000) by John Severance explains how the Great Chicago Fire of 1871 inspired city planners to rethink building design. In the fire's aftermath, businesses wanted to rebuild offices downtown. But the downtown area extended only so far. The solution: skyscrapers that went up, not out. How this revolutionary design helped inspire our modern landscape makes for a great story.

Ask your booktalk audience to name the largest thing they can see in their city or town. How about a horse 24-feet high? Leonardo da Vinci designed a gigantic bronze steed for the city of Milan, Italy, but people don't remember this engineering feat because da Vinci never was able to make it.

His dream got only as far as a clay model. Da Vinci acquired the necessary 130,000 tons of bronze, but just as he was about to cast this enormous statue, the Duke of Milan, fearing an enemy attack, melted the bronze into weapons. Almost 500 years passed before American Charlie Dent read about the dream horse and carried out da Vinci's vision. Now Milan finally has its horse—and so does Grand Rapids, MI. Dent created another cast of the horse for his home country! Jean Fritz's Leonardo's Horse (Putnam, 2001), shows us how Leonardo's dream would not take "neigh" as an answer.

Not everyone welcomes new ideas. There Goes the Neighborhood: Ten Buildings People Loved to Hate (Holiday House, 2001) by Susan Goldman Rubin describes architectural structures that many people absolutely detest. But the Washington Monument? Early critics called it "a stalk of asparagus"! The Eiffel Tower and the Pompidou Center in Paris also drive some people crazy, so does McDonald's golden arches, and the glass house that Philip Johnson built for himself in Connecticut. Ask listeners if they can think of any structures in their community that a lot of people hate—or love.

Older elementary- and middle-school kids will be impressed by the staggering spectrum of architectural geniuses described in these books. Whether these designers, engineers, and architects built something decorative or functional, horses or bridges, their visions demonstrate a wide range of creativity. Dreams come in all shapes and sizes. They can even become monuments or towers that the world will long remember.