My favorite kiddielit cats

I recently read the latest picture book by British author and illustrator Ruth Brown, Gracie the Lighthouse Cat. Ruth Brown is not the household name that she should be in the United States, taking a back seat to more famous picture book Browns; Margaret Wise and Marc being the ones which spring to mind. Ruth Brown draws the natural world with a balance of delicacy and vigor, and her illustrations of animals in particular manage to bring out all their natural personality without overtly anthropomorphizing them (her professional collaborations with James Herriot, for instance, seemed like a match made in Heaven.) Her latest book, which tells two concurrent stories of rescues at sea--one based on actual fact and the other, perhaps not--continues in the style which works so well for her. Reading it, and admiring the cats she drew so beautifully, set me to thinking about some of my favorite cats in children's literature (I'll limit myself to picture books.) I know as soon as I post this I will think of many other favorites, and I'm hoping to get lots of other recommended favorites as well from my readers.

Sticking with Ruth Brown for the moment, I will start with Copycat. And anyone who knows me personally, and has met my cat Richie, will recognize the appeal this book holds for me! The copycat in question is a friendly tom named Buddy who loves to mimic the action of the other animals in the household. Buddy's playful parroting is revealed with peekaboo alternating half and full pages. It's a cute concept, and a cute story. Check out your local library for this one, as it is sadly out of print.

You've heard of library cats, right? This story is based on a real cat who lived in a church in Louisville, Kentucky. One day he turned up and made the church his home, where he eventually lived for 12 years as a well-loved member of the congregation. Ann M. Martin, best known for the Baby-Sitter's Club franchise, tells a touching story about how something as inconsequential yet monumental as a cat can bond a community. Illustrations by the incomparable Emily Arnold McCully complete this loving tribute.

What would a list of my favorites be without a mention of the Church Mice series by Graham Oakley? Incomplete--that's what! Samson is the long-suffering church cat who, after years of sermons about brotherly love, is unable to eat a mouse. He often finds himself at the center of their scrapes and schemes, whether he wants to be there or not. But his loyalty to Arthur and the rest of the mice is beyond question, and his place on this list well-deserved

Rotten Ralph will most definitely never be confused for a church cat. Or a well-behaved one, for that matter. The eponymous anti-hero of this long running series by Jack Gantos and Nicole Rubel (although new entries are not as frequent as I would certainly wish) lives with his ever-patient, ever-forgiving owner, Sarah--who looks to be no older than 8 or 9, by the way. Her parents disappeared after the first book, but Sarah is unwavering in her devotion to her vile kitty. In fact, when she sends him to obedience school in Not So Rotten Ralph, and nothing less than brainwashing will make him change his ways, she realises that she wouldn't change him for the world. More power to her. These subversively disobedient stories are great fun to read and must be a huge relief to really naughty children.

Nick Bruel's Bad Kitty is a relatively recent addition to the world of kiddielit kitty's. She's not as rotten as Ralph, but she is certainly just as funny. And making the jump from picture books to highly illustrated chapter books has meant more bang for your bad kitty. Reminiscent of Bill the Cat, with her bug-eyed manic expression and Tasmanian Devil-ish freak-outs, her aversion to baths, dogs, and Uncle Murray provide plenty of material for roping in reluctant readers.

Pickles the fire cat started out as a side character in Esther Averill's adventures of the Cat Club (most of which focused on shy Jenny Linsky.) He was a stray, hanging out in barrals and mooching off of kindly Mrs. Goodkind. Left to his own devices he would chase cats smaller then himself, which quickly gained him the reputation as a bad cat. He needed a purpose to keep him out of trouble. His mighty paws made him a perfect fit for the local fire department, where he proved himself a natural at coaxing timed cats out of trees. Hands down my favorite book from my childhood.

And while we are talking about cats with a purpose, let's not forget Henry, who at times has been a cross-country cat, a hot-air balloon cat, a sailor cat, and a high-wire cat. He is the beloved pet of Kid and the sometimes antagonist of Man, who shows a preference for the dog but can't seem to do without Henry. The success of this series is that Henry's escapades are grounded in the natural ability of cats, with--when required--a dash of the fantastic. Resourceful, brave, thoughtful, and charismatic, Henry proves time and again that--"Yow-me-yowl!"--he is "some smart cat."

You can't be a cat lover and not appreciate a book which celebrates "the mystical divinity of unashamed felinity" (to quote a certain well-known musical.) This book of poems by Tony Johnston and illustrated by Wendell Minor is not so much about a specific cat as it is about the cat experience. To prove that cats are a source of constant inspiration, the kitties on the cover of this book were none other than the cats of illustrator Minor himself (a third Minor cat also appears in the book.)

And last but not least, since we are on the subject of well-drawn cats, I must mention my all-time favorite cat illustrator, Anne Mortimer. This picture from Cats Sleep Anywhere by Eleanor Farjeon, while not my favorite Mortimer cat (that would be Tosca, from the series by Matthew Sturgis and annoyingly unavailable in a decent scan) is indicative of the quality of cat she produces. Her cats have appeared in books by Margaret Wise Brown, Edward Leer, and Sue Stainton and are always beautifully rendered and uncannily realistic.

Well, there you go! Let me hear about your favorite literary moggies.

Goodbye to Dick King-Smith

Well, here's a kick in the teeth. I just read in School Library Journal that British author Dick King-Smith died on Tuesday, 4 January. He was 88. It's not right to feel cheated by the death of an 88 year old man--that's a long life (and if you read his autobiography, Chewing the Cud, you will know that it was a varied life which he enjoyed to the fullest.) But Dick King-Smith is an author that I discovered as an adult, right about the time that my interest in children's literature was reignited. So for me, his loss feels personal.

Dick King-Smith will be most widely known as the author of  The Sheep-Pig, which became the film Babe. But he wrote many, many books, and they all deserve a look. You can read a run-down of some of my favorites, here.

And for another look at the film Babe--which can still make me weep tears of joy at the end!--check out the trailer.

Favorite Christmas Picture Books

Okay--so I meant to get this posted right after Thanksgiving. But there is still plenty of time to share a Christmas picture book. While shiny copies of Dewey's, Marley's and Fancy Nancy's holiday escapades are being showcased at your local bookstores, these older classic are not too be missed, so be sure to check those library shelves. They might be the dog-eared leftovers on the display table, but like Charlie Brown's twig of a tree, they have much to offer.

So, in no particular order, I present my favorite Christmas picture books:

Wombat Divine by Mem Fox; illus. by Kerry Argent

Wombat has waited a long time to be in the annual Nativity play, and now he's finally old enough. The problem is that he is ill-suited for every part: he's too heavy to be the Archangel Gabriel, too clumsy to be the innkeeper, and too short to be one of the Wise Men. With all the parts allocated to more suitable animals (and I do mean emus, koalas, and bilbys,) it looks as if Wombat will be sitting out this year's play, too. Until....inspiration strikes. This is a sweet tale from one of Australia's greatest contributors to children's literature.

We Were There by Eve Bunting; illus. by Wendell Minor

Let me clarify--there aren't just illustrations featured in this unorthodox Nativity story. There are paintings. There aren't many Christmas books which can boast a scorpion on the front cover (I can't think of any others) made sacred by the inclusion of the Christmas Star glowing beneath the tip of the scorpion's stinger. If Wendell Minor's stunning paintings of rats, tarantulas, and warty toads aren't enough to distinguish this Christmas book (you can see some of the other paintings here,) then have a read of Bunting's text, told in verse and from the point of view of each creature, making their way to the stable to worship the Christ child. This unique perspective on a familiar story makes a poignant statement about the relevance of Jesus' arrival, not just for the good and the easily lovable (i.e. the ox and lamb,) but the lowly inhabitants of the dark, as well.

Harvey Slumfenburger's Christmas Present by John Burningham

Santa's had a long night, and he's knackered. He no sooner finished his rounds, gets his reindeer in bed, and dons his pajamas, before he realizes that he's missed delivering a gift. And of course, the gift is for Harvey Slumfenburger, who is poor and will get no other gifts but the one from Santa. And he lives in a hut. At the top of the Roly Poly Mountain. Which is far, far, away. So there's nothing else for it but for Santa to deliver that gift. Not wanting to wake the reindeer, he tosses his red coat over his jammies and sets off by foot for Harvey Slumfenberger's hut. It's a long and arduous journey requiring many modes of transportation, but Santa will not be deterred. And with the final five words of the book, John Burningham shows why he is a master at writing for children.

Father Christmas by Raymond Briggs

While Burningham's Santa is a dogged and dutiful man, Brigg's St. Nick is no jolly old elf. From the moment his alarm goes off on Christmas Eve, to his final grumbly blessing, Father Christmas looks as if he'd rather be anywhere than delivering presents on a cold and snowy night. As he preps his thermos, feeds the cat, and locks his front door, he could be heading off for a shift at the local factory.  The humor in this books is generated by the rather working class perspective to Santa's story, told in graphic blocks like a comic book. Father Christmas has to work around restrictive chimneys (or none at all--I particularly like the image of him trying to squeeze out of the top of a cooker,) try to avoid roof-top aerials (remember them?!) and tripping over cats, and in true British fashion spends most of the book complaining about the weather. And when he gets home, he still has to make his own Christmas dinner! Evidently this Santa is a bachelor. And, without a doubt, the hardest working man in the world.

A Pussycat's Christmas by Margaret Wise Brown; illus. by Anne Mortimer

This book was originally published in 1949, and then re released in 1994 with illustrations by the incomparable Anne Mortimer. She is, for my money, the best illustrator of cats. From cheeky, to contemplative, to serene--her ability to capture their essence is amazing. Brown's understated yet precise description of the sounds and smells of a Christmas Eve in preparation, makes for a quiet, almost reverent, reading experience.

The Church Mice at Christmas by Graham Oakley

The Church Mice would like to plan a slam-dunk Christmas party at the church, but they are having trouble procuring funds. Raffling off Sampson doesn't raise much--particularly when he returns to the church and the mice have to refund the money. And caroling is fraught with danger on a busy high street crowded with shoppers. Raiding the choirboys' stalls for abandoned sweeties produces no dividends either. When Arthur and Humphrey make the rather rash declaration that Father Christmas will be visiting the vestry, things almost take a turn for the riotous as antsy church mice find their holiday disappointment difficult to contain. But all ends well--and humorously--for the church mice. As ever, this book is filled with detailed illustrations which are as much of a joy to inspect as the story itself.