Sub texts

As a graduate student, I do a lot of reading as I research and write my dissertation. Most of it is pretty dry stuff---scholarly books and articles, unpublished dissertations, monographs, etc. Of course, I read a lot of the same types of things as an undergraduate student for my research papers back then, too. But as a graduate student, I have learned to read in a different way from the way I did in college. I not only read the text itself, but also the items that go before, under and after the text: introductions, acknowledgments, and footnotes and endnotes. It may seem obvious that one should read these things, but I've noticed from my teaching gigs that undergraduates rarely read footnotes, for example, which often means that they miss crucial information that the author has tucked into the small print. Footnotes and endnotes often point to the author's sources, or perhaps to a different scholar's theory on the same topic. Acknowledgments often pay tribute to those scholars whose ideas have helped the author formulate his or her own, revealing the web of connections in the small communities that make up academe. Introductions often provide a road map for the ideas ahead, laying out for the reader how the author went about conducting research, formulating his ideas, and finally finding the evidence to support his argument. Even the book dust jacket can reveal something interesting about the author, whether it's the name of his spouse (oh he's married to that professor?) or her educational background (oh she studied with that famous professor?). Altogether, these pre-, post- and sub-texts add layers to the experience of scholarly reading.

Why do I bring this up in a blog on children's literature? Two books that I recently checked out of the library make use of the areas usually not considered part of the "reading experience" of a picture book. In Click, Clack, Moo: Cows That Type, by Doreen Cronin with pictures by Betsy Lewin (Simon and Schuster, 2000), Betsy Lewin has included an "artist's note" on the title page. Maybe I just haven't looked closely enough (and I certainly haven't read a lot of picture books in the past 25 years), but this is the first time that I've seen such a note, in which she describes how she created her vibrant watercolor drawings. I was fascinated to learn that she first created brush drawings in black watercolor on tracing paper, then photocopied the drawings onto watercolor paper, and finally added the color washes. This allowed her to experiment with different colors as many times as she liked without having to redo the black drawings themselves. After reading this, I took another look at the pictures. I would never have guessed that a photocopier had been part of the artistic process, but its use means that the black ink lines are never faded, washed out or blurred by the colored washes of paint. Each black line is crisp and clear, and this really allows the character of the cows to pop off the page. It's not surprising that the book was a Caldecott Honor Book in 2001. What is surprising that (as we learn from the back flap of the dust jacket) Doreen Cronin is not a professional artist but an attorney, and this was her first picture book. (We also learn that she collects antique typewriters, no doubt a plus for a book about cows that type!)

Mo Willems, author of Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus (Hyperion, 2003), is known for making use of the entire book for his artistic endeavor. The story starts on the opening endpaper and finishes on the closing endpaper. I had heard a lot about Willems from both my sister and my friend Susan, both graduate students in library science (and both focusing on children's literature). Although I read Knuffle Bunny first, Pigeon is Willems' first book. As in Knuffle Bunny, the story starts as soon as you open the book. On the two-page spread of the endpaper, Pigeon is dreaming of driving a bus, which zooms across the page. We turn the page, expecting to find the title page, but instead we meet the bus driver, who sets up the title of the book: "Hi! I'm the bus driver. Listen, I've got to leave for a little while, so can you watch things for me until I get back? Thanks. Oh, and remember:" (we jump to the next page, which is both the conclusion of the driver's request and the title of the book) "Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus!" We turn the page again, and the story moves forward: the bus driver walks off and the pigeon peeks in from the corner of the far page. We start to turn the page to discover what the pigeon is up to. But wait! You missed something! Tucked below the image of the smiling bus driver walking away is what looks to be boring publication information. You know, the copyright, Library of Congress cataloging data, etc. But if you read closely, the copyright is not your typical copyright: "All rights reserved for humans, not pigeons." Even in something as dry as a copyright, Willems finds a way to add a little humor. (Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus was also a Caldecott Honor winner, in 2004).

It's doubtful that children will notice these two little extras, but the discovery added to my enjoyment of both books (especially since at this point, I'm really reading more for myself than for the benefit of my six month old, who enjoys books only as much as he can fit them into his mouth). So, as you read, read like a graduate student and remember to look for those extras that can add to your reading experience.

See, graduate school IS good for something in the real world!

I love James Marshall

Well, that pretty much sums it up: I love James Marshall. He is one of my favorite (possibly my absolute favorite) picture book author/illustrators. He's on my mind because recently a library patron requested that we add some more Scholastic Video Collection DVDs to our collection and one of the ones I ordered was Red Riding Hood... And More James Marshall Fairy Tale Favorites. I used this as an excuse to revisit some of my Marshall favorites, including George and Martha, the Fox easy readers and Goldilocks and the Three Bears (a Caldecott Honor book). I also came across some books I hadn't seen before, like Pocketful of Nonsense, his collection of limericks and rhymes.

I know I'm not alone in my James Marshall love: he was the winner of the 2007 Wilder Medal (an award given by the ALA that "honors an author or illustrator whose books, published in the United States, have made, over a period of years, a substantial and lasting contribution to literature for children"). Also, the forward to George and Martha: The Complete Stories of Two Best Friends, is Maurice Sendak's beautiful tribute to Marshall. You can read an abbreviated version here.

Why do I love his picture books? First, his dry sense of humor. Second, his style--there are so few words on a page and the illustrations are not at all fussy, but they convey so much meaning. Third, the beautiful sentiments his stories convey (this mostly applies to George and Martha, who have disagreements and get into fights, but at the end of the day would do anything for one another).

I could say more, but Sendak says it much more eloquently. In Marshall's work, says Sendak, there is "No shticking, no nudging knowingly, no winking or pandering to the grown-ups at the expense of the kids." "Much has been written concerning the sheer deliciousness of Marshall's simple, elegant style. The simplicity is deceiving; there is richness of design and mastery of composition on every page." Of George and Martha: "Those dear, ditzy down-to-earth hippos bring serious pleasure to everybody, not only to children. They are time-capsule hippos who will always remind us... of the true, durable meaning of friendship under the best and worst conditions."

James Marshall died in 1992 at the age of 51. Despite how young he was at his death, he left behind an impressive and sizable body of work. It's sad to think about what other wonderful books he would have written had he lived longer, but I'm so glad he left what he did for us to enjoy.

Return of the Mom

It's been a little over three months since I last posted on here. My son Ari was born in mid-July and consequently the blog has (understandably, I think) been relegated to the back-back burner.

I visited my parents in Washington, DC last week and saw my old friend Susan (author of Wizards Wireless) the other day and that, along with my son's improving sleep schedule, has inspired me to return. Susan is now (in addition to being a graduate student in library science) a children's book buyer for a local toy store, and her enthusiasm for children's literature is infectious. (Quick plug for her store, Child's Play, with branches in Rockville, MD and Chevy Chase, DC---we popped into the Chevy Chase branch, which looks like a tiny storefront but goes on and on...I got sidetracked by the excellent selection of infant toys at the front but eventually made it to the back, where they keep their amazing selection of books.)

My reading time has been sharply reduced as of late and now consists almost solely of the two books that I alternate for Ari's bedtime: Goodnight Moon and The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Although Ari is much too young to actually understand what I read, I like to think that he enjoys the repetition. His eye-hand coordination has improved to the point where he can grab at the sturdy board book pages of Caterpillar (my sister Liz wisely bought us the original hardcover copy of Goodnight Moon; the board book cuts down the pages dramatically and a lot of key details are lost.)

Reading (and re-reading) these two classics, which were also two of my childhood favorites, sheds new light on what makes a successful children's book. Children love repetition, but we adults crave variety. I think that what makes these two books fresh night after night are the amazing details that the illustrations provide, from the delectable treats of the caterpillar's Saturday feast (not surprisingly, my favorite page as a child) to the collection of items that are wished a goodnight by the blue pajama-clad bunny. Although I can now recite Goodnight Moon verbatim, the drawings are what make the book interesting for me. I recently read a Time Out New York Kids article that asked various authors why they loved the book. Julia Glass wrote that both of her sons loved to search for the roving mouse on each page. I couldn't remember if I conducted a similar search as a child, but now as an adult, I took a look, and sure enough, the little mouse is there on every page in a new spot. The painting on the wall of two bunnies is from the other Brown/Hurd collaboration, The Runaway Bunny. And just last night, I noticed for the first time that a little green copy of Goodnight Moon is on the bunny's bedside table. Very post-modern.

I'm eager to hear what other books you have read over and over again and still find as intriguing as the first time you opened the cover.

A birthday for Jody

Today is Jody's birthday, so in her honor here is a round-up of my favorite picture books on birthdays.

A Birthday for Frances was a family favorite when we were children. While not all of Russel Hoban's Frances books stand the test of time well (Bedtime For Frances in particular--I don't think anyone would publish a book these days in which parents threaten to spank their child if she doesn't go to bed), this one is a timeless tale. Frances gets a chocolate Chompo candy bar for her younger sister's birthday gift, but she really wants to eat it herself. She struggles with issues of jealousy and generosity, but she manages to overcome and give Gloria her present.

Frank Asch's Happy Birthday, Moon is a beautifully illustrated, slow, sweet book about a bear who wants to give the moon a gift for its birthday. This is suitable for very young children because of its simplicity in both story and illustrations.

Vera B. Williams is the author/illustrator of two Caldecott Honor books, and Something Special For Me tells the story of Rosa, who gets to use the money her family saved all year to buy a special present for herself on her birthday. She resists buying things because her friends all have them and instead finds the perfect gift for her. If you enjoy this book, you can revisit Rosa's family in several other books by Williams.

Finally, both Eric Carle and Dr. Seuss have books with birthday themes. Carle's bright, bold illustrations in The Secret Birthday Message are a joy to look at and Dr. Suess's Happy Birthday To You features the Great Birthday Bird from Katroo, who knows just how to make a birthday fun and memorable.

So, Jody, happy birthday to YOU!

Picture books for picky kids

Jody commented in the last post that she selected books on bedtime by browsing the shelves at her library. While browsing the shelves is certainly one way to find books on a particular subject, there are other ways for parents and librarians alike to find a stronger body of books. By merely browsing the shelves, you risk ending up with books that don't represent the best of what's available. The children's literature publishing business is booming right now, and although that means more books for children are available than ever before, not all of them are worth spending much time on. And especially for parents: if your child decides she loves a book and wants you to read it over and over--it should be something you enjoy, too!

There are some great resources for librarians who are looking for picture books on a particular theme, and A to Zoo by Carolyn W. Lima & John A. Lima is probably the best. The current edition lists almost 23,000 picture books by 1200 subjects, with indexes cross-referencing books by title, author and illustrator.

While A to Zoo can be used by parents as well, to do so would probably be more time consuming than it's worth. Parents do have the option of asking their friendly neighborhood children's librarian, who probably gets asked about books on specific themes quite often. Many libraries also maintain lists of picture books on various themes, either in print in the children's department or online. Two libraries with good online lists are the Chapel Hill Public Library and (my local and beloved library) the Monroe County Public Library. And the Waterboro Public Library in Maine has an amazing round-up of booklists by theme, covering topics from cats to trains and everything in between--and it even includes links to lists on bedtime stories!

Nighty night

For my inaugural review, I thought it would be appropriate to select a book that deals with the theme of going to bed. This is a category that has some heavyweights in its corner already (Goodnight Moon is the most obvious example) and clearly continues to be a popular topic for children’s book authors. I wanted to see what new titles were out there that might make for worthy additions to the genre.

Since I am the non-professional of the two of us, I made my selections in a very non-scientific manner: I looked through the “new picture books” shelves at my (tiny) local library and leafed through those that had something to do with sleep or night in the title. I'm sure that my sister will have one or two things to say about this method, but I imagine that is how many parents select books for their kids---without the benefit of reviews or lists or recommendations.

Of the books that I selected, the one I most enjoyed was When Sheep Sleep, by Laura Numeroff, illustrated by David McPhail (New York: Abrams Books for Young Readers, 2006).

Laura Numeroff is the author of the best-selling If You Give a Mouse a Cookie, which was one of my sister’s all-time favorites as a little girl. This book has the same sense of each page building on the previous one. In Mouse, each action opened a new can of worms (if you give a mouse a cookie, he’ll want a glass of milk). In When Sheep Sleep, each page presents a new possible answer to the question hinted at in the title: what to do when the sheep (so useful for counting at bedtime) are already asleep?

On the first page, a little girl and her teddy bear lie awake in bed, unable to sleep. The text suggests, “When you can’t fall asleep,/Then try counting sheep!” Unfortunately, the sheep are themselves already slumbering at the foot of her bed. The text (written in rhyming verse) then suggests other animals that one could count, yet they too are all asleep. In the end, the very act of counting is enough to tire the pair out, and they fall asleep, surrounded by the various animals depicted on the previous pages.

The rhyme is gentle and often repetitive, creating a soothing rhythm perfect for helping a child settle into a quiet pre-bedtime mood. This is assisted by David McPhail’s soft pen and watercolor illustrations, which depict the animals (even pigs in their muddy pen) as soft and cuddly. As the story begins, we see that the little girl (in an adorable purple footed pajama) is playing with a variety of small stuffed animals; in the following pages, she (along with her now-animated teddy bear) is transported outside to view the same animals sleeping in their natural habitats. I didn’t notice the connection between the stuffed animals and the “real” sleeping animals during my first read-through, but it’s details like this that will allow for new discoveries during multiple readings.