Essential Starter Library for Girls

A few years ago, when Curry and Boy Wonder were expecting their first son, I posted an extensive list of books (The Essential Starter Library) that Curry could use as a baby-registry guide.  But there have been rumblings among the troops: where is the essential starter library for girls?

I didn't really think the Essential Starter Library was very boy-focused at the time. There was a category entitled "Because It's a Boy!" but otherwise I think the list stands on it's own for any baby. The list is chock full of my favorites no matter if you are a boy or girl, adult or child. But I get the point. And I do love roundups. And anyway, there are four special girls (Savannah, Constance, Inez, and Adaryn, which are four of the prettiest names!) who need a library!

So here is an Essential Starter Library for Girls.  Go here for the original list which has, as I mentioned, many excellent general categories (Classics, New Classics, Weird/Funny, Religious). And find more under my "Girls" tag, here.

Classics (for girls):

1) Miss Rumphius by Barbara Cooney: I have a hard time writing about this book beyond saying it is perfect. When I try to say more I get all teary-eyed and sappy. So, can I leave it at that? Miss Rumphius is perfect.

2) Madeline by Ludwig Bemelmans: Oh boy, Madeline is a divisive one. She's a trouble maker and sort of a brat, but since she gets her appendix out, everything is ok, and she gets toys and flowers and to stay in bed and all the little girls want to be just like her. Well, that's an adult reading it. A child reads it, and remembers exactly how she felt last time she was sick, and how miserable it was, but how nice it was "to wake up in a room with flowers," and how strange it was to see a rabbit on the ceiling (fever induced delirium or an active imagination?) I have loved Madeline since I was very very little. And the whole series is so richly illustrated and marvelously told that I would put it at the top of my list for any essential library. (Also recently released, Madeline Visits the White House, by Bemelmans' s grandson.)

3) The Tiger Who Came to Tea by Judith Kerr: I actually discovered this as an adult, when Judith Kerr's British classic was re-released a few years ago, and just fell in love.

4) Petunia and her sequels, by Roger Duvoison: Petunia is a goose, who has a book. And, overhearing the farmer's platitude, because she has and loves her book, she thinks herself wise. I don't really think this book is only for girls, simply because the protagonist is a female duck. But I do think Duvoison's illustration style is particularly appealing for girls. Also, he is hilarious and awesome and I love him.

5) The Hundred Dresses by Eleanor Estes: I think every girl should have this book. Not only does it awaken the imagination and stir the heart, but, if the girl really loves it, it's a safe bet she won't become a Mean Girl in Jr. High. (Short review here.)

Fairy Tales for Girls:

1) The Snow Child: This Russian fairytale I think is a vastly better fairy-tale to give to little girls than The Little Match-girl. Where The Little Match-girl teaches hopelessness in the face of suffering, The Snow Child teaches about love in spite of suffering. My favorite version is illustrated by Barbara Lavallee. 

2) Angela Barrett has illustrated really amazing fairytales, including: The Snow Queen, Beauty and the Beast, Snow White, and The Hidden House.

3) Likewise, Lizbeth Zwerger has marvelous versions of many classic fairytales. (That's Little Red Cap above.)

4) The Light Princess, and others by George Macdonald.

5) Too Many Moons by James Thurber. Try to get the original illustrations, though there's a new version that's pretty good too.

New Classics (for Girls):

1) Emily's Baloon by Komako Sakai: Read my full review here. (Image, above.)

2) Anything by Suzy Lee, but especially The Wave: It's funny when I look back on my LLB posts and can't find an actual review of a book I really really really really love. The Wave is one of those. I reviewed two of Lee's other books, but not of my favorite.  Well, anyway: get The Wave. It's perfect. No one does wordless picture books better. (Image, at the top of the post)

3) A Girl and Her Gator by Sean Bryan and Tom Murphy: I really love all their funny collaborations. In this a girl wakes up with a gator on her head. Read my full review here.

4) Sophie's Masterpiece, by Eileen Spinelli and Jane Dryer: I found this book by chance, and immediately fell in love. Here's my full review.

5) Zita the Spacegirl by Ben Hatke: this goes without saying! Zita is spunky, impulsive, caring, funny, and though her fears are very real, she also summons the courage to face them and do good when it needs to be done. She's a great role model for all kids, and a delight through and through. And, Zita 2 is just out!

Religious Books for Girls:

1) Mary, the Mother of Jesus by Tomie de Paola (review here)

2) Stories from the Bible illustrated by Lizbeth Zwerger

3) Joan of Arc by Josephine Poole and Angela Barrett

4) Clare and Francis by Guido Visconti and Bimba Landmann

5) Saint Bernadette by Sophie Maraval-Hutin (review here)

Because She'll be Born in Virginia: (well, two of these girls will be born in VA)

1) This is Washington, DC by Miroslav Sasek: and you might as well get This is Paris, This is London, This is San Francisco, etc, etc, while you're at it. Don't you want her to be a world traveler?

2) One More Acorn by Don Freeman and Ron Freeman: Don Freeman's son, Ron, helped complete this adorable story about a squirrel on the National Mall. Full review here.

3) American Girl: Felicity by Valerie Tripp: Felicity is the reason I know the word Spunky. And also why I have always wanted to go to Williamsburg. 

4) Misty of Chincoteague by Marguerite Henry: Only the best horse book ever. Plus, you'll take her camping on Assateauge someday. If you can, buy her the vintage version, which is often available at Library sales.

Chapter Books for Later:

Everyone knows Alice in Wonderland, The Little Princess, The Secret Garden, Anne of Green Gables, Little Women, Nancy Drew and Charlotte's Web. But don't forget about:

Betsy, Tacy and Tib by Maud Hart Lovelace (review here)
Ronia the Robber's Daughter, by Astrid Lungren, of Pippi Longstocking fame. And for that matter, don't forget Pippi.
Peter Pan and Wendy by J.M. Barrie, which is really more about Wendy than about Peter.
Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbit. (And promise you won't watch the movie.)

Pixar's Brave

BRAVE
Directed by Mark Andrews, Brenda Chapman and Craig Purcell
Starring: Kelly Macdonald, Emma Thompson, Billy Connolly, and Robbie Coltrane
Review //  Showtimes
 

We've got it all wrong about fairy-tales, you know. They aren't all about romantic love. Prince and Princess living happily ever after is an exception, not a rule. And even the ones about romance are dark and grave and sad. No, most of fairy tales are about individual virtue, about how one's choices matter, and how one's fate and one's duty are entwined, and about how the relationships that matter are the ones we often take for granted.

And this is where Brave, this year's animated feature from Disney/Pixar, really breaks ground. It offers us a true fairy tale--and a new one. Daring, rich, grave, deeply moving, and delightful.

Brave, was being hailed for offering the first female protagonist in Pixar's 13 film oeuvre. And then dismissed because it was a princess movie, like all the other Disney films.  But I wasn't disappointed. Not one bit. Jokingly the Slate reviewer, Dana Stevens, said (in his excellent review): "In order to satisfy expectations at this point, Brave would have to not only revolutionize the depiction of girls and women onscreen, but make its audience laugh as hard as we did in Toy Story and cry as hard as we did in Up." Well, it did all that for me.

(Don't worry: I give no spoliers, and I ask that commentators do the same.)

Let's get the technical stuff out of the way first: it is visually stunning. Pixar can create an entire world that looks completely real: landscape, rocks, trees, water, expressive eyes, fabrics, a tapestry and THE MOST INCREDIBLE HAIR. I purposely chose the still from the very first scene (above) because most of the stills from the film I've seen are too animated. Look at that grass and that hair: it is so real. The film is full of this awesomeness. The story concerns the relationship between the Queen Elinor (Emma Thompson) and her daughter, the Princess Merida (Kelly Macdonald)--and I'd be hard pressed to think of a richer expression of a mother-daughter relationship in film. Merida, like a typical feisty and passionate teenager, just wants "to be free!" and bristles under her mother's lessons on stately deportment and behavior. ("A princess does not put her weapons on the table.")

I don't want to get too much into the plot and destroy its delights, surprises, and twists. But suffice it to say that the time comes when Merida and Elinor must listen to each other, in order to save each other and reverse the spell that falls on them. (There's always a spell, you know. But it could also be avoided if we weren't such selfish idiots.)

There are some failings. The humor is a it too broad at times. And many of the secondary characters tend to be one dimensional: Merida's three mischievous brothers, the leaders of the three clans, and their eldest sons are all written without subtlety. We only complain about this because we know Pixar can do small characters well; each fish Nemo meets, or toy in Andy's box, or character in their brilliant shorts are distinctly drawn. Many have complained that there are no good male characters, but I think King Fergus (Billy Connolly) is beautifully drawn. He is, indeed, a little too bombastic to be taken seriously, but it is lovely to see his delight and pride in his daughter, and his obvious regard for his wife.  

Brave is not perfect. But it is lovely and refreshing. It is a rich expression of the relationship between a mother and her daughter. And both women are individual, bold--fine role models for a world that greatly needs to remember what duty is, and how doing one's duty takes a special kind of bravery.

(By the way: there are some very intense and scary sequences in this. However, R took G to go see it for her 6th birthday, and G loved it. So maybe six is the cut off?)

Sendak: Don't go! We love you so!

He was a crank, and had the eyebrows to prove it. He was a genius, and had the sales to prove it. With a distinctive style and dynamic voice, Sendak was truly one of the greatest illustrators of the 20th century. In turns his work was charming, funny, uncomfortable, inspiring, and thrilling. He did not shy away from the terrors of childhood, and yet, with his fantastic illustrations, he gave children the ability to imagine life beyond the monsters. He drew from all sorts of sources, including The Brothers Grimm, old Russian folk tales, the silly definitions of childhood, and stolid, boring manners books, transforming each subject and story into rich drawings that have shaped the imaginations of generations of children. Here is, by far, the best quote from Maurice Sendak, and it perfectly captures his spirit, I think:

"Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it."

Requiescat in pace, Maurice Sendak.

ILLUSTRATION: From my very favorite Sendak book, What Do You Do Dear? The caption from this page reads: "You are a terrible pirate making a fine lady walk the plank, but when the lady turns to wave farewell to you, she drops her handkerchief. What do you do, dear?" (The next panel reads "Pick up the handkerchief for the lady.") See all my Maurice Sendak reviews here.

READ MORE: NY Times //  Guardian slideshow and roundup of literary homages // NPR // WSJ // NYRB // Children's Illustration // The Animalarium // Fuse 8 // Seven Impossible Things // Roger Sutton for Horn Book // VKMKL lists all her Sendak reviews // The Rosenbach Museum (which holds his work in their collection) has a fitting tribute // Letters of Note // Vanity Fair profile from 2011 // The Colbert Report

Appreciation of Betsy

Yesterday was the 110th birthday of the beloved children's book heroine, Betsy, from Maud Hart Lovelace's Betsy-Tacy series of books. A lot of women writers will claim Josephine March, from Little Women as the chief source of inspiration for their chosen career. But for me, it was Betsy.

The first four titles, which concern Betsy, Tacy, and Tib's childhood in a small town in Minnesota, I read and re-read as soon as chapter books stopped intimidating me.  (Perhaps, I don't remember, they are why chapter books stopped intimidating me.) And their world was my fantasy world: hiking through the mountains, making friends with gypsies one day; riding into town in a fine car and listening to the Opera the next.

But when Betsy went to high-school, and later toured Europe, and married her high-school sweetheart (I suppose I first read these later books when I was 11 or 12), that's when I really starting wanting to be like Betsy, and identifying myself with her.

I remember--so clearly--when she set up an old trunk as her desk, and treasured the exact placement of the drawer, the feel of the crisp clean sheets of paper, planning how much she was going to write (and always, somehow, failing in that plan. We all identify and are inspired by the books and characters we really love. Betsy is as much a part of me as she is a part of generations of women who have read an loved her tales. It's been a long, long time since I've read those later books. I wonder what I'll think of Betsy now, and how she'll sit next to all my other dreams, some abandoned and others waiting patiently to arise when the time is right and my work is done.

Easter Books Roundup (2012)

Easter baskets are a big deal in our house. We don't get big gifts, but growing up we definitely got more than just see's candy. Usually it was either a book or a movie. (The best year was when we each got our very own Looney Tunes Videocassette.)

I know a lot of parents use the Easter basket as a time to buy another religious picture book for their collections--I do the same for my goddaughter. But don't forget the silly books too! For reviews of my favorite "secular" Easter Books, including The Easter Egg Artists and Roger Duvoisin's Easter Treat click here.  Many of these books are out of print, unfortunately.  But you should be able to find used copies, if you keep your eyes peeled.

Also, Stephanie posted earlier this week about her favorite Easter-bunny books. Check them out. I don't think I've seen any of these, but her taste is flawless, and they look awfully fun!

My very favorite Easter book is sadly out of print and difficult and expensive to find.  Petook: An Easter Story was part of Caryll Houselander's collection of short stories for boys and girls (some of them are available in Catholic Tales for Boys and Girls--but not Petook--still, it'd be a good book for older kids!).  Tomie dePaola illustrated this version (the one I have--left), and it is just perfect.  Read my review.

There are a number of Easter books that aren't biblical, but are still generally religious. My favorite is probably Reschenka's Eggs by Patricia Pollacco (below).  It succesffuly draws together some of the most wonderful Easter customs and traditions: the coming of Spring, the decoration of eggs, the joy of rebirth and resurrection. It is a feast for the eyes, and a joy for the heart, and therefore, it is perfect for Easter. My full review is here.  I've also just learned of Tasha Tudor's A Tale for Easter, which seems to fall in this same category.  And is lovely.  Because everything she did was lovely.

Here is a quick list of other religious books that would be great for the Easter Basket (links direct you to my previous reviews):

• Biblical stories and adaptations by Brian Wildsmith
• Saint books by dePaola (again) and others
• The new Ignatius Press books: 1, 2.
• The Story of Easter by Aileen Fisher and Stefano Vitale
• At Jerusalem's Gate by Nikki Grimes
• All Things Bright and Beautiful by Ashley Bryan
• Joseph and Chico and Max and Benedict --Ignatius Press' lovely books about the Pope.

You can see all my reviews under these categories: Bible; Religion; Saints; Virtues; Holiday (includes Christmas, sorry!).

You can purchase these and many more religious books in the Little Lamb Bookshop's special sections: Religious Books; Easter Books; Tomie DePaola.

I have a few other Easter posts coming up in the next week, so do check back soon!

Best Picture Books of 2011

I am more than a little saddened to say that this was one of the hardest roundups to do.  I just have not had time to dedicate to children's books, as I've been juggling three jobs with my writing and also, you know, laundry and eating regularly.  Life is hard, guys.  I don't know how you mothers do it. You have my overwhelming respect!

But, here, with little flourish, but promises that these books really are great, are my top fifteen picks for 2011 (in alphabetical order by author):

The Artist Who Painted a Blue Horse by Eric Carle: Another joyful celebration of the imagination by one of the most prolific and beloved illustrators alive today.

Nursery Rhyme Comics ed. by Chris Duffy and Leonard S. Marcus: Hilarious and charming these 50 nursery rhymes interpreted by 50 of the best comic artists working today gives a fresh take on Mother Goose and all her poetic friends.

Zita the Spacegirl by Ben Hatke: Spunky Zita has charmed me since she was a little web-comic; the book exceeded my high expectations. Vibrant, adventurous, funny, and engaging to the end. Can't wait for Zita 2! 

The Iron Giant by Ted Hughes, illustrations by Laura Carlin: I've always loved this fantastic story since I first came across the animated film. It gets a fresh look for a new generation with wonderful new illustrations by Laura Carlin.
I Want My Hat Back by Jon Klassen: One of my favorite illustrators (see last year's Cat's Night Out), John Klassen is wry and funny in his little tale about a bear and his hat.
To Market, To Market by Niki McClure: McClure's gorgeous paper cut-outs celebrate the incredible diversity of produce and the great fun it is to go to the Market.
The High Street by Alice Melvin: A flip-book for your resident anglophile. (Me! Me!)
Orani: My Father's Village by Claire Nivola: Nivola's gorgeous illustrations of her father's village in Italy remind me of Anno. Her prose is lucid and vibrant.  It makes me want to live there!
Brother Sun and Sister Moon by Katherine Patterson, illustrated by Pamela Dalton: I know!  Another picture book about Francis of Assisi. But oh my goodness, the illustrations!  Beautiful!  They have also produced a companion piece--The Story of Christmas.
A Ball for Daisy by Chris Raschka: Raschka is hilarious and touching, as always, in this story about a dog and her beloved toy.
One Starry Night by Lauren Thompson, illustrated by Jonathan Bean: A pretty and elegant new take on the Christmas story.  Perhaps the best new Christmas book in years.
Press Here by Herve Tullet: By far and without a doubt, this is my favorite book of 2011.
Along a Long Road by Frank Viva: Another in the retro-style picture books, this is about a bike ride, and the long road makes, in fact, and infinite loop that will fascinate attentive readers.
A Zeal of Zebras by Woop Studios: I love me a good collective noun.  And a good alphabet book.  And a good animal book.  How fun to have all three in one title.
All the Way to America by Dan Yaccarino: The mind behind the brilliant and engaging The Fantastic Undersea Life of Jacques Cousteau, Dan Yaccarino, has created a tale about four generations of an Italian family--starting with the arrival on Ellis Island. A real delight.

And don't forget the reprinted editions:
The Phantom Tollbooth (scroll to the end of the post)
The Rescuers by Margery Sharp, illustrated by Garth Williams: finally back in print--one of the best adventures ever.

Related: The dangers of the Caldecott

Happy 80th Birthday Tomi Ungerer!

Today is the 80th Birthday of Tomi Ungerer.  Ungerer is at the center of a recent and much deserved rise in publicity, thanks to the republishing of many of his greatest children's books, by Phaidon Press.

Ungerer is certainly one of the most imaginative of authors and illustrators.  He is decidedly off--in a Roald Dahl / Edward Gorey / William Steig sort of way. His stories are always slightly macabre, and rather melancholy. They are not for everyone--though they are loved by many, and perfectly suitable for children. (Ungerer himself is an odd duck; it does not do to dwell too long on his personal life.)

I've only reviewed one of his books, the charming Moon Man, but the head of the Tomi Ungerer Children's Book Blogger Fan Club is Burgin Streetman, of Vintage Books My Kid Loves.  She's reviewed so many of his best selections, some of which are now reprinted by Phaidon and other publishing houses.

The Three Robbers (my favorite, besides Moon Man)
Crictor
Otto: The Autobiography of a Teddy Bear
Christmas Eve at the Mellops'
The Mellops Go Diving for Treasure 
Adelaide: The Flying Kangaroo

And you can find many of his out-of-print books on Amazon as well.

More on The Phantom Tollbooth

Norton Juster writes from NPR Books about his "accidental masterpiece"--The Phantom Tollbooth:

Like most good things that have happened in my life, The Phantom Tollbooth came about because I was trying to avoid doing something else. It was 1958, and after three years in the Navy I returned to New York City to work as an architect. I had also received a grant to do a book on cities for children. I started with great energy and enthusiasm until I found myself waist-deep in stacks of 3-by-5 note cards, exhausted and dispirited. This is not what I wanted to do.

In order to stop thinking about cities, I had to start thinking about something else.

Also, there's a kickstarter project for a little documentary of the making of The Phantom Tollbooth. Check out the preview, below, and donate to it here.

Also, did you notice: all the fellows I talked about last week look alike in their old age.  Sendak, Carle, Tomie, Juster and Feiffer. Round faces, white beards.  Mostly they all have mischief in their eyes, except for Sendak, who just looks feisty.

Old and New Again

Three of the greats of the world of children's literature in America have published new books.  I have not seen any of them because I, I am sorry to say, have not stepped into a book store in over two months!  How ridiculous!  Still, I wanted to alert you to them:

Maruice Sendak, author Where the Wild Things Are, has published Bumble-Ardy, based on a animated sketch in Sesame Street, where a pig throws himself a birthday party that quickly gets out of hand. In the lead-up to this release, Sendak has granted a number of interviews which are fascinating, and a bit sad (Paris Review, The Guardian).  He has always had some darkness in his books, but these interviews show him as a surprisingly angry man.  That darkness is what makes Where the Wild Things Are so perplexing and intriguing, and The Juniper Tree (illustrated tales from Grimm) so perfect.  Even his humor in What Do You Do, Dear? and What Do You Say, Dear? is a little dark - and all the more enchanting because it is so.  Was he always this angry?  Does he know how many people he has inspired, and how much joy his work has given?  I don't know, but I do know that I love his work, and look forward to seeing Bumble-Ardy, which sounds like quite a ruckus!  (For more of my reviews of Sendak work, click here.)

Tomie dePaola is, as you well know, my favorite. He is filled with so much joy sometimes I think he might burst.  Since winning the ALA Wilder Award in January, he's been on quite a roll.  He even made a stop here in Washington, DC at the National Book Festival (above). And I missed it.  My heart is broken!  His newest title is a Christmas story with dear old Strega Nona (Strega Nona's Gift).  For more DePaola books, click here.

Eric Carle has also released a new picture book, after ten odd years, The Artist Who Painted a Blue Horse. Inspired by the work of Franz Marc, a German expressionist, who painted blue horses and yellow cows - but Carle puts his own dear nonsensical spin on it - a green lion, a polka-dotted donkey. In this he continues to inspire a child to really see.  As he says in a really marvelous video interview on Amazon, "You don't have to stay within the lines.  In art you're supposed to be free. Let them open their eyes."  See some of my favorite Carle books here and here and purchase some here.

Norton Juster and Jules Feiffer's The Phantom Tollbooth is celebrating it's 50th Anniversary this year, and two special editions have been released: one with annotations by Leonard Marcus and the other with brief essays from a number of people about what it meant to them as a child.

I am shocked to find I've never reviewed this masterpiece!  Well, then: let me point you to the fantastic article by New Yorker critic Adam Gopnik that includes an interview of the author and illustrator (who were housemates and good friends).

  Juster, who speaks with the soft accents of the old Brooklyn, began recalling the origins of the book: “I had come back from the service, and I went to work in an architectural office. I was really kind of bored with everything, and I think, I’ll do a little book on cities. The kind of book that will be interesting for kids. I applied to the Ford Foundation for a grant—old saying, when God wants to punish you, he gives you what you ask for!—and got the grant.”
  “Five thousand bucks you got!” Feiffer interjected.
  “Was it that much? Anyway, I was up to my ass in worries and notes and couldn’t get it done. And so I took a vacation with friends, at the beach, Fire Island.”
  “Probably with me!”
  “No, it wasn’t you, Jules,” Juster added, though he explained that they already shared a roof. Stationed at the Brooklyn Navy Yard in 1956, Juster had found a garden apartment—“That’s what they call a basement room in Brooklyn,” Feiffer noted—in the Brooklyn Heights building where Feiffer was living, two floors up.
  “My guilt for not doing it was overwhelming,” Juster continued. “So I started work on a little story about a kid who didn’t know what to do with himself, and didn’t like to learn. It was Milo! At that point, I just kept writing. When I finished the book, I felt very worried and very guilty. I thought the Ford Foundation was going to demand the money back.”
  “I wondered what became of our money,” Feiffer said.
  “After the book came out, I never heard from them. Long time later, I found that they were delighted about it.”

Read it quickly--The New Yorker tends to archive its articles every week.  Also, Michael Chabon, author of Wonderboys and The Amazing Adventures of Kavallier and Clay, wrote a great little essay in The New York Review of Books about his introduction to The Phantom Tollbooth

Finally: the fascinating and sad tale of the inheritor of the rights of Goodnight Moon.

It's Lane Smith's Birthday!

And you know how much I love him. (1 | 2) Well, here is a preview of his newest book, Grandpa Green.  It looks lovely!
 

Happy Birthday Maurice Sendak!

Today is Maurice Sendak's 83rd Birthday! So I thought I'd quickly remind you of my favorite Maurice Sendak books:

+ The Juniper Tree: Grimm's Fairy tales are of course rather...grim...but for an older child, this is perhaps your best bet for an illustrated version. Sendak's distorted proportions and hints at the grotesque match perfectly with the darker element in these stories. The translation is fine, and the selection of stories excellent. NOT bedtime reading, though...

+ What Do You Say, Dear? and What Do You Do, Dear? are perhaps my favorite Sendak books--and certainly my favorite manners books. Wry and delightful, with outlandish situations that serve as gentle reminders for daily life. (Photo, above)

+ A Hole Is To Dig is one of those books that is as entertaining for a child as it is for an adult. "A first book of definitions" is was created by asking children what different objects and actions meant. Of course kids say the darndest things--we all know this--but sometime they offer quite profound answers as well. This will delight and entertain and perhaps teach a little something about the way we think and the way we see.

Other favorites that I have not reviewed:
+ Nutshell Library (a Caldecott winner)
+ In the Night Kitchen (a Caldecott winner)
+ Mommy? (one of the best pop up books)
+ Seven Little Monsters
+ Kenny's Window
+ I'll Be You and You Be Me  (another from Ruth Krauss)

And if you really love Sendak, I recommend visiting the Rosenbach Museum in Philadelphia, which has a collection of his papers and drawings on view.

Finally: my favorite Sendak quote:
Once a little boy sent me a charming card with a little drawing on it. I loved it. I answer all my children’s letters — sometimes very hastily — but this one I lingered over. I sent him a card and I drew a picture of a Wild Thing on it. I wrote, “Dear Jim: I loved your card.” Then I got a letter back from his mother and she said, “Jim loved your card so much he ate it.” That to me was one of the highest compliments I’ve ever received. He didn’t care that it was an original Maurice Sendak drawing or anything. He saw it, he loved it, he ate it.

Happy Birthday J.M. Barrie

Super fun, guys: yesterday was the birthday of J.M. Barrie! As many of your know, Peter Pan is one of my favorite children's books. I wrote my thesis on it and the development of the moral imagination in childhood and in turn Wedny's moral development in the story. When I had successfully defended my thesis, my English professor pulled me into his office and said: "I have a Ph.D. in literature. I speak French, Italian, Old English. I have written several books on the romances of William Shakespeare. I am the chair of an English department. But when I take my kids to the library, I have no idea where to begin." Thus the seed was planted for Little Lamb Books.

So happy birthday, Mr. Barrie. And thanks for the lifetime of inspiration.

By the way: if you want to study this book, I highly recommend purchasing the Oxford Edition, which has wonderful footnotes and introduction. For enjoyment's sake there are many illustrated versions.

Profile of a Favorite: Allan Ahlberg

I get questions all the time about what authors and illustrators I really love, or what books should a new parent purchase for their little ones. It's actually a shockingly difficult question to answer since there are so many wonderful books, I have way too many favorites, and besides your taste is not the same as mine. So I usually recommend authors: Tomie de Paola, Leo Politi, Sandra Boynton, Lizbeth Zwerger, etc.

From Janet and Allan Ahlberg's Peek-a-boo!

  

Allan Ahlberg, who wrote picture books with his wife Janet, and since she's passed away has had continued success on his own, is another name for that list. The Guardian recently wrote a profile of Allan Ahlberg which reminded me that I don't proclaim how awesome he is enough on the blog:

Of all the books the husband-and-wife team created together, Peepo! is perhaps the best-loved. Thirty years old this year, it is firmly established as a classic for toddlers and babies. Its simple, rhythmic text and richly detailed illustrations tell the story of a day in the life of a baby in the 1940s, from breakfast to bedtime, with the added fun of a circular cut-out on every other page so that the next part of the story peeps through.

While it took Allan just three or four weeks to write the gentle little story, Janet spent months creating the pictures, which are packed with absorbing detail. The cosy scenes of working-class domesticity are filled with period detail, from the tin bath in front of the coal fire and the outside lavatory in the backyard to the baby's sturdy black perambulator. "This was Janet's bible," says Ahlberg, pulling down a battered old red hardback edition of The Army and Navy Stores Catalogue, 1939-1940. "In the days before computers, if she wanted to see what a jug or a mangle or a wringer looked like, she could check it out in here. She loved this book; she would get waylaid in it and sit for ages looking at bread-bins and kettles."

This is precisely what I love about their books: they are filled to the brim with familiar life. Perhaps they aren't the same bed posts and ironing boards and uncleared dishes and limp teddy bears that we all grew up with--but they are close.  And, somehow in spite of all the clutter, their homes feel homey, full of life, real.  (Weary parents are one of her specialties.)  And there is always, very real, the hard part of life standing in the background:

The war, never mentioned explicitly in the text, is lightly gestured at in Janet's pictures: a bombed-out building in the far distance; a gas-mask box hanging off the end of a bed-knob; the poignancy of the father dressed in uniform as he kisses his baby son goodnight at the end of the story. For Ahlberg, this balance between words and pictures is precisely what a picture book is about. ...It's a description of an unshowy style of writing that mirrors Ahlberg's modesty about his own talents. "I'm far from being the best writer in the world, and Janet was very good but she wasn't the greatest illustrator in the world either. But the pair of us were twins in the sense that we both really wanted our books to be good. So it's as though we took my modest talent and we took Janet's modest talent and we poured it into a tiny 32-page thing."

From Janet and Allan Ahlberg's The Baby's Catalog

  

Please read the whole interview--it talks about his upbringing in a rough factory town in the Black Countries, and how he met his wife, and how they got started writing and illustrating together, and what inspired some of their most successful books.

When you're done admiring this remarkable man, check out the reviews I have written of my favorite of his books (what?! Only two reviews!): Peepo or Peek-a-Boo! and The Baby's Catalogue

Other favorites which I have not reviewed include:

Each Peach Pear Plum was our family favorite board book...besides Moo Ba La La La.  It wonderfully integrates a bunch of fairy tales and Mother Goose stories into one hide and seek board book--and the pictures are just lovely! Janet won the Kate Greenaway Medal for it in 1978

The Pencil and The Runaway Dinner: Illustrated by Bruce Ingman, these are more recent capers written by Mr. Ahlberg, and they really are the most fun!

The Jolly Postman: He and Mrs. Ahlberg developed a series around the "jolly postman"--but I like the original best.

It was a Dark and Stormy Night: This is the perfect long-form storybook for feisty boys: it has adventure and pirates and spunkiness and creativity and is just bursting with fun.

Starting School: Like The Baby's Catalogue this is a wonderful primer for kids about to start school.

By the way, his daughter has carried on with the family tradition: Jessica Ahlberg is the illustrator of the Toon Tellengren books I love so very much. Father and Daughter are working on a set of inverted fairytales called The Goldilock Variations which, I hope, will be out soon!  You'll hear about it when they are, I can promise you that.

Allan Ahlberg in his studio.

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere

The Midnight Ride of Paul Revere
by Henry Wadsworth Lonfellow

Listen my children and you shall hear
Of the midnight ride of Paul Revere,
On the eighteenth of April, in Seventy-five;
Hardly a man is now alive
Who remembers that famous day and year.
He said to his friend, "If the British march
By land or sea from the town to-night,

Illustrated by Ted Rand

Hang a lantern aloft in the belfry arch
Of the North Church tower as a signal light,--
One if by land, and two if by sea;
And I on the opposite shore will be,
Ready to ride and spread the alarm
Through every Middlesex village and farm,
For the country folk to be up and to arm."

Then he said "Good-night!" and with muffled oar
Silently rowed to the Charlestown shore,
Just as the moon rose over the bay,
Where swinging wide at her moorings lay
The Somerset, British man-of-war;
A phantom ship, with each mast and spar
Across the moon like a prison bar,
And a huge black hulk, that was magnified
By its own reflection in the tide.

Meanwhile, his friend through alley and street
Wanders and watches, with eager ears,
Till in the silence around him he hears
The muster of men at the barrack door,
The sound of arms, and the tramp of feet,
And the measured tread of the grenadiers,
Marching down to their boats on the shore.

Then he climbed the tower of the Old North Church,
By the wooden stairs, with stealthy tread,
To the belfry chamber overhead,
And startled the pigeons from their perch
On the sombre rafters, that round him made
Masses and moving shapes of shade,--
By the trembling ladder, steep and tall,
To the highest window in the wall,
Where he paused to listen and look down
A moment on the roofs of the town
And the moonlight flowing over all.

Beneath, in the churchyard, lay the dead,
In their night encampment on the hill,
Wrapped in silence so deep and still
That he could hear, like a sentinel's tread,
The watchful night-wind, as it went
Creeping along from tent to tent,
And seeming to whisper, "All is well!"
A moment only he feels the spell
Of the place and the hour, and the secret dread

Engavings by Christopher Bing

Of the lonely belfry and the dead;
For suddenly all his thoughts are bent
On a shadowy something far away,
Where the river widens to meet the bay,--
A line of black that bends and floats
On the rising tide like a bridge of boats.

Meanwhile, impatient to mount and ride,
Booted and spurred, with a heavy stride
On the opposite shore walked Paul Revere.
Now he patted his horse's side,
Now he gazed at the landscape far and near,
Then, impetuous, stamped the earth,
And turned and tightened his saddle girth;
But mostly he watched with eager search
The belfry tower of the Old North Church,
As it rose above the graves on the hill,
Lonely and spectral and sombre and still.
And lo! as he looks, on the belfry's height
A glimmer, and then a gleam of light!
He springs to the saddle, the bridle he turns,
But lingers and gazes, till full on his sight
A second lamp in the belfry burns.

A hurry of hoofs in a village street,
A shape in the moonlight, a bulk in the dark,
And beneath, from the pebbles, in passing, a spark
Struck out by a steed flying fearless and fleet;
That was all! And yet, through the gloom and the light,
The fate of a nation was riding that night;
And the spark struck out by that steed, in his flight,
Kindled the land into flame with its heat.
He has left the village and mounted the steep,
And beneath him, tranquil and broad and deep,
Is the Mystic, meeting the ocean tides;
And under the alders that skirt its edge,
Now soft on the sand, now loud on the ledge,
Is heard the tramp of his steed as he rides.

It was twelve by the village clock
When he crossed the bridge into Medford town.
He heard the crowing of the cock,
And the barking of the farmer's dog,
And felt the damp of the river fog,
That rises after the sun goes down.

It was one by the village clock,
When he galloped into Lexington.
He saw the gilded weathercock
Swim in the moonlight as he passed,
And the meeting-house windows, black and bare,
Gaze at him with a spectral glare,
As if they already stood aghast
At the bloody work they would look upon.

It was two by the village clock,
When he came to the bridge in Concord town.
He heard the bleating of the flock,

Retold and Illustrated by Charles Santore
(Santore places us in the Tavern where Longfellow
first told this poem.  A fun and engaging approach.)

And the twitter of birds among the trees,
And felt the breath of the morning breeze
Blowing over the meadow brown.
And one was safe and asleep in his bed
Who at the bridge would be first to fall,
Who that day would be lying dead,
Pierced by a British musket ball.

You know the rest. In the books you have read
How the British Regulars fired and fled,---
How the farmers gave them ball for ball,
>From behind each fence and farmyard wall,
Chasing the redcoats down the lane,
Then crossing the fields to emerge again
Under the trees at the turn of the road,
And only pausing to fire and load.

So through the night rode Paul Revere;
And so through the night went his cry of alarm
To every Middlesex village and farm,---
A cry of defiance, and not of fear,
A voice in the darkness, a knock at the door,
And a word that shall echo for evermore!
For, borne on the night-wind of the Past,
Through all our history, to the last,
In the hour of darkness and peril and need,
The people will waken and listen to hear
The hurrying hoof-beats of that steed,
And the midnight message of Paul Revere.