Picture books for the Stanley Cup: Number Four, Bobby Orr!

Now that the Bruins have made a series of the final, I thought this was a good time to draw attention to Mike Leonetti's Number Four, Bobby Orr! It took ages for Ted Williams to get his own picture book, but this Boston sports legend got his in 2003 (any news on a Larry Bird picture book? How about Yaz--the last winner of baseball's Triple Crown? Someone get writing!) Illustrator Shayne Letain sets the triumphant tone for this book with his rendition of the iconic 1970 photo of Orr's cup winning goal. The book itself is about a young boy named Joey who loves hockey and idolizes Orr. When an injury curtails his season, Joey writes a letter to Bobby Orr, asking for advice on being a better defenseman. Joey's recovery coincides with the progression of the season, culminating with a healed Joey sitting in the Boston Garden to witness his hero make history.

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/File:Orr.jpg

There is quite a lot of information in this book about Bobby Orr and his impact on the Bruins and the city of Boston. For locals there are a number of little details which give fanish delight (such as mention of the fact that Joey is watching the Bruins on channel 38.Remember WSBK?!) Number Four, Bobby Orr! is an unashamed love letter to a hockey legend, and a fun read for Bruins fans as they face the rest of the series.

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.

Fact or fiction--Old Abe, Eagle Hero

I originally intended to write a straight-out review of Old Abe, Eagle Hero but was stymied by the nagging conviction that I could not give it a rave review. And since I have a policy of only reviewing books if I can do so positively, I nearly bailed on this assignment. And yet, I quite liked this book and wanted to write about it. So what's the problem?

The problem is that the book represents itself as a factual account of an actual bird's life, yet it is poorly researched and full of inaccuracies. Or maybe it was meticulously researched and the reader just doesn't know this because there are no references. And maybe the inaccuracies aren't inaccurate at all, but again--no documented sources to back anything up. Do you see my problem?

I was originally intrigued by this book because of its historical context. I also like eagles and am always interested in the stories behind symbols. This book tells the story of Old Abe (who according to Wikipedia was actually a female, although I have not found confirmation of this anywhere else) an eaglet who was found (captured? let's not be euphemistic) by a Native American chief in the Northwoods of Wisconsin in 1861. The eaglet is traded to a man named Dan McCann who eventually sends the eagle off to war in his place. An explanation is offered as to why he does this (he cannot fight himself, and the bird has shown remarkable intelligence,) but that is really immaterial to the heart of the book--Old Abe's heroic exploits with the 8th Regiment of Wisconsin. Old Abe is involved in several major Civil War battles and serves not only as a mascot, but as a spy and is even credited with dragging a wounded soldier to safety. After the war Old Abe goes to live in the Wisconsin State Building as a war hero. A two room apartment is built specially for the bird, where he resides, when he isn't making guest appearances at special events such as the 100th anniversary of the Declaration of Independence in Philadelphia in 1876 and a fund raiser to preserve the Old South Church in Boston.

Old Abe him/herself

At which point the book abruptly ends. Which is extremely unfortunate! Because this abrupt ending makes the reader aware of several flaws with the book. The most glaring is the aforementioned lack of source material used to research and write the book. Secondly, an author's note at the end, while providing much commentary about the plight of bald eagles in the United States, fails to provide any further information about Old Abe or help to clarify what part of the story is bona fide fact and what is poetic license.

101st Airborne Division

And yet, as I said, I liked this book. I thought it was written with a sense of drama (at least up to its abrupt ending.) I loved the water color illustrations that managed to portray Old Abe with playfulness when fraternizing with the men of the company, and ferocity when leading them into battle. I liked knowing that Old Abe was well taken care of after the war. I even liked the scavenger hunt the book sent me on. But how much of it was actually real? The Internet is chock full of pictures of Old Abe, who seems to have been a well-documented bird (which makes the lack of references in this book so baffling.) The bird left an incredible visual legacy, immortalized in stone on monuments, illustrated on postcards, and sewn on patches. This book has near-well inspired Old Abe mania in me, and might very well do so for another reader. But is it fair to expect someone to scour for other sources to ensure that what they read in the book is accurate? Well, no.....of course not. So while this book sets out to tell an exciting and inspirational story, it's likely to raise more questions than it will answer. And yet, and yet, and yet.......I thought it was worth reading.

Thank you to Kane/Miller for providing me a copy of the book to review.

Rave Review: The Last Train

In the interest of full disclosure, I need to make a confession: I am a former railway conductor. I worked for Midland Mainline, a railway operating company in England, for four years, working my way up from trolley dolly to guard. There was a time when I knew every bump in the line from Sheffield to London. Whenever I stand on a station platform, and watch a train leave, I am sorry for the adventure I am not having. In brief, as far as trains are concerned, I am soooooo biased.

The Last Train is based on a song by musician Gordon Titcomb, a song which he admits was heavily influenced by the railroad songs that came before. It is an extremely personal book. It isn't about the diesel-spouting High Speed Trains (HST's) that I used to work on. Rather, it is a nostalgic look at an age of shoveling coal and lonely whistles in the night; of an industry which shrank in this country so as to be almost unrecognizable. The title page shows a young boy, through whose eyes we follow the story, standing in front of a steam engine. On either side of him is a conductor and an engineer. We eventually discover that this is in fact his father and grandfather. Illustrations of the boy standing in front of a derelict station or walking beside a line overrun with weeds and wildflowers serve to show us how the last train to roll through his town spelled not just the end of an industry, but the loss of his legacy as well.

Lest the book sink into melancholy, the story is buoyed by the memories of the glory days of steam. The text is quite poetic. I particularly liked, "A ticket punch that clicked a million snowflakes every year." What a lyrical way to describe a rather routine job for a conductor. The text is complemented by the grand paintings of Wendell Minor. He makes full use of double page spreads to present a panorama worthy of the far-reaching power of a steam train, whether showing an approaching engine or zooming in on a detail of pennies flattened on the line ("little metal tears/That a railroad cries before it disappears.") Significantly, when Minor is representing individuals--a brakeman, a porter, a fireman--he forgoes the double-spread paintings for smaller, compact portraits. By focusing on the individuals with more intimacy, he reiterates the personal nature of the book. His paintings are literal to the text, which is an especially effective technique in a story where holding on to memories is vital.

When a conductor sees a train away from the platform (at least in England,) they are required, for various safety reasons, to look out a window (preferably from the last coach) and watch until the train has left the platform completely. There were many times, late night shifts in particular, when I would look out, and as the train curved along the bend of the track, the only light I could see was from the train itself. That lonely light in a dark night is, for me, evocative of the romance of trains and the railway life in general. Trains are powerful, magnificent, revolutionary machines. Yet even they gave way in the face of advancing technology. There is a painting towards the end of the book which visualizes this truth perfectly: a train (not even a steamie, but a diesel) rides along the rail while an airplane flies above it in the opposite direction. The plane's contrails leave a cloudy, imitation rail of its own in the sky.

Fortunately, trains--like dinosaurs--have immense kid appeal. The sort of appeal that is not generally outgrown (case in point--me!) The last train might have rolled through a lost America, but with books like this one, it can always roll through one more time.

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Folk fans take note: Arlo Guthrie, who recorded one of the most famous railroad songs ever, wrote the forward. Also, a list of Railroad Museum websites is provided to promote trainspotting delight. Thank you to Florence and Wendell Minor for providing me with a copy of the book to review.
 

Subversive Favorites: It's a Book by Lane Smith

This post was originally prompted by an on-line discussion I've been following--and contributed to--about whether or not this picture book should be shelved as a picture book, fiction or in the children's room at all. You might have heard about It's a Book on NPR,  or read a review of it (there are many, and they are favorable.) You might have even read it yourself (please do!) What prompted the discussion was the use of a single word--and here I am going to give away the punchline of the book, so if you don't want the wicked wit revealed.....SPOILER!


The conversation was prompted by Lane Smith's use of the word, "jackass." He uses the word twice: at the very beginning, when he is introducing the characters in the book, one of which is, indeed, a jackass. He uses it again, with much more dramatic effect at the very end, when Jackass is addressed by name. However, by the end of the book the reader has realized that Jackass is not just a donkey, but a fool as well, hence the comedic brilliance of that utterance.

So first and foremost, thank you Lane Smith for reclaiming the word for legitimate use in children's literature! After all, 'jackass' is not an intrinsically bad word, one which has simply been commandeered for nefarious purposes (can anyone say, 'bitch'?) Actually, to be more accurate, I think it suffers from its association with a certain part of the human body (can anyone say, 'Uranus'?) But I digress. Children may snicker at the word. Or, perhaps if we give them a little credit, they might actually get the point. Adults reading this book certainly should. And if, after tucking their kids into bed for the night, they pick up their Kindles and iPads with a twinge of guilt, well....that's not such a bad thing. Books work precisely because the technology is simple. The only interface necessary involves picking it up and giving in to its pull. Talk about subversive!

To be honest, the books of Lane Smith beg the question--is sarcasm wasted on young readers? Perhaps 'sarcasm' is the wrong word for what I am trying to describe, which is closer to sophisticated, sly, sharp humor. If you revisit The Happy Hocky Family Moves to the Country (a personal favorite) or Glasses, Who Needs 'em? or even the much lauded John, Paul, George and Ben, there is a bite to these stories which rises above situational humor or visual jokes. Do young readers, 'get it'? Of course, as with any book, it depends on the reader. But in my opinion, why not test a child's wit? I've witnessed my own daughter, who at nine still laughs at burps, fling a zinger out every now and then. It's like she's using humor to test deeper intellectual waters. And in the end, isn't that what all great books do--challenge us intellectually?

Rave Review: Big Red Lollipop

Big Red Lollipop is a heartfelt, and heartbreaking, picture book about a girl named Rubina who is invited to her first birthday party. It is also a book about sibling relationships. It is also a book about the immigrant experience. It is also, in my opinion, a story about parental failure--a big, fat reminder of how much we forget about being children once we grow-up, and how parents demand wisdom from their children when we clearly don't have any ourselves.

When Rubina comes home from school one day, breathless from excitement about her first ever birthday party invitation, she is delivered a ghastly ultimatum by her mother, who has never even heard of birthday parties: she must take her little sister, Sana, with her or forfeit the party herself. The mother, dressed in the traditional garb of her home country, is lost in translation as Rubina tries to explain that that's not the way things are done. But the mother is adamant, and Rubina secures an invite for her bratty sister, despite the realization that her own social life is doomed. Rubina's one consolation for the day, a beautiful red lollipop received in her goodie bag, which she saves to enjoy later, is also lost to her when her sister eats it herself. 

Soon Sana is old enough to receive her own birthday party invitation. Rubina watches a familiar scene unfold as Sana's initial joy is squashed when her mother informs her that she must take both Rubina and the youngest sister, Maryam, with her. Rubina wants nothing to do with this scenario, despite the mother's insistence that it is fair. Sana, who has clearly forgotten her own role in the previous party events, is beside herself and pleads that she simply cannot bring the youngest sister with her.

Rubina's intervention is graceful, generous, and born of a wisdom which comes from stigma. The mother may or may not have noticed the lack of further party invites for her eldest daughter, but they are fresh in Rubina's mind. Sana proves herself to be grateful in the end, and the strengthened bond with her sister is a beautiful way to finish the book. But for me it is simply silver lining, because the central lesson revolves around the behavior of the mother. You can call it a cultural difference, an angle which is certainly emphasized in the story. But truthfully, I think the problem is in the process of growing-up. As adults we forget about the things which are important to children, such as the desire to not stick out. Compared to our weighty concerns, what's the big deal to bring a little sister--a child--to a child's party? How often do we tell children that life's not fair, and then force adult concepts of "fair" on them (such as being told to share a lollipop with a sibling who has already taken the lollipop for herself.) Or maybe it's just me. Perhaps this book struck a chord because I know how often I have failed my daughter with my own lapses of memory. Perhaps Big Red Lollipop simply speaks to my guilty conscience, that of a mother who has fallen back on the annoying get-out clauses my mom used ("Because I said so!") rather than remember my own nine year old cares and concerns.

Before finishing, I must take a moment to comment on the illustrations of Sophie Blackall. As the illustrator of the Ivy and Bean books, I always associate her work with the mischievous, slightly subversive behavior of those two girls. Here she has used her talent for expressiveness to eloquently compliment the text. The exchange over the purloined lollipop is a masterpiece of scowls, indignation, and contempt for the plain, awful unfairness of it all. And the cover, with the striking visual of the dominant lollipop, conveys the import of that controversial sweet without revealing the magnitude of the life lesson learned inside the book.

Is there no justice?! Jon Agee's Terrific

I love working the afternoon shift. You know the sort--the kind where I come in to a desk piled high with issues (hint: file under "sarcasm".) Today I found a pile of payment forms for lost materials. I give these the once over to see if there's anything I need to replace. Sure enough, I notice that Jon Agee's Terrific has been lost (sob!) So, as I'm debating whether to order 1 copy or 2, I stumble upon an inconvenient truth: it's no longer available. Surely B&N are pulling my leg. I check Baker and Taylor: Permanently out of Stock. Amazon: available from these sellers (a.k.a. Not Us.) I grab my head and do my best Edvard Munch Scream impression. How can this BE?!?! Terrific is only one of my all-time favorite story time books (and not just because it allows me ample opportunity to do my parrot impression.) Terrific is necessary to children's books in the same way that Oscar the Grouch is vital to Sesame Street--so that kids know its okay to have bad days and foul moods and they will still be lovable. Terrific was written by the sublime Jon Agee, who keeps finding new ways to have fun with language and make it accessible to young readers. So why is this book no longer available? I mean, look at all the awards it has won:

ALA Notable Book

The Horn Book, Fanfare 2005

New York Times Notable Children's Book of 2005

Publishers Weekly, Best Children's Books 2005

Bank Street, Best Children's Books 2005

Child Magazine, Best Children's Books 2005

Chicago Public Library, Best of the Best 2005

Parent's Choice Award Winner for Picture Book

Book Sense, Top Ten Best Children's Books 2005

California Commonwealth Club, Best Juvenile Fiction, 2005

Junior Library Guild Selection

The book is only 5 years old. Is the publishing world operating in dog years, where a 5 year old book is actually 35 and consequently ancient? Couldn't it at least qualify as a classic under those conditions? I can only hope that there is a shiny new release on the horizon. Heck, I'd take a paperback edition.

Top 10 British Children's Authors and Books--MY version of the list

I came across a blog post this afternoon (thank you Mitali Perkins) on the site Anglotopia.net (my kind of blog!) listing the Top 10 British Children's Authors and Books. The article, which was posted by a guest blogger, lists "the most popular British children’s authors and their books which have captured the hearts of children (and adults) the world over." I couldn't find fault with the list; every author is indeed beloved, every book a classic--this list is Canon with a capital 'C'. And yet, I found the list to be predictable to the extreme. I guess that's to be expected with something which lists the most popular of its kind. But there was something in its predictability which lacked creativity. Without data to back up the list--such as book sales, or library borrowing statistics--it just seemed to be a catalog of the best-known English writers (and I say English, because Britain is not well represented by this list; Roald Dahl was born in Wales, and C.S. Lewis in Belfast, but that's it. And Francesca Simon, the author of the Horrid Henry series, is in fact American.)

But what bothered me the most with the list was the complete lack of picture book authors. But have no fear--I have remedied that! England (sorry--but my list will also be guilty of an English bias) has produced some of the most innovative, prolific and--according to the borrowing habits of at least the library where I work--popular writers for children.

So, I present to you, in no particular order, my list of 10 of the Greatest British Children's Authors and Books. You may recognize several of the authors. And those you don't already know, I'm so glad to introduce them to you!

1. Allan Ahlberg

Allan Ahlberg, along with his late wife, illustrator Janet Ahlberg, will probably be best remembered for The Jolly Postman, a whimsical journey through a nursery rhyme landscape, via the letters the famous characters write to each other; letters which the reader can handle for themselves in one of the sweetest interactive books going. But for me, their tour-de-force is The Baby's Catalogue, which perfectly captures all of the joys and agonies of a baby's new life--not to mention the life of a new parent--through a catalog of moments and paraphernalia. The book was later organized by topic and published as a series of board books which were just perfect for the little hands of the youngest readers (this is a case where that over-used phrase is just right!)

2. Raymond Briggs

It has always struck me as odd that The Snowman is such a beloved book despite it's downbeat ending. Unlike Frosty, who scampers off before he can melt, with the promise to "be back again some day." there is no such protection for the eponymous character of this Christmas classic. He melts! The little boy is heartbroken! End of story! And yet, beloved it is. All credit to Raymond Briggs' gentle storytelling and captivating illustrations for putting so much joy into a bummer of a holiday tale. Check out his Father Christmas for a cheerier story, although I use the word "cheery" with a caveat; this is no jolly elf. Brigg's Santa is a working class fellow with plenty to grumble about, not least of which is having to get up at an ungodly hour to complete his Christmas Eve mission. Yet it is wholly original and full of charm.

3. John Burningham

If Roald Dahl wrote picture books, I think they would be a lot like the books of John Burningham. His is a world where the adults don't always "get" the children. It's probably because they are already grown-up and have lost sight of the magic and honesty of a child's world. Burningham's Mr. Gumpy's Outing, a cumulative tale which starts with a warning and ends with a picnic, was listed by children's literature guru Anita Silvey as a must-have book. My personal favorite is John Patrick Norman McHennessy, the Boy Who was Always Late, a book which I was so happy to see return to print in 2008.

Note: I had the chance to meet John Burningham about a month ago, at the 2010 Boston Globe Horn Book Awards Ceremony (and I got myself an autographed copy of JPNHtBWwAL to boot.) What a thrill!He was exactly as I imagined him to be--curmudgeonly and cuddly all in one droll package.

4. Helen Oxenbury

Here's an author who perfectly straddles entry number 3 (her husband) and entry number 4 (an author with whom she created a masterpiece.) Perhaps best known as an illustrator, Oxenbury has written a series of books telling the everyday stories in the life of Tom and Pippo, a little boy and his sock monkey. Their "everychild" adventures are comforting in their familiarity. Oxenbury has repeated the formula of infant and toddler experiences in a series of board books.

5. Michael Rosen

Poet, author, and former UK Children's Laureate (2007--2009)--despite all these accomplishments, Michael Rosen will forever be associated with possibly the greatest story-time read-a-loud out there: We're Going on a Bear Hunt. Sublimely illustrated by Helen Oxenbury, this is the definitive version of the rhyme. 'Nuff said.

6. Graham Oakley

I'm on record rhapsodizing about Oakley's Church Mice series, so I won't go on about it at length; regular readers of this blog are well familiar with my feelings on the subject (new visitors can read it all here, here, and here.) 

7. Julia Donaldson

A quick perusal of the current Amazon.co.uk Children's Bestsellers lists shows no less than 5 Julia Donaldson books in the top 25, tucked in between the Twilight and other vampire novels. Spawning a sequel and a tv series--not to mention numerous tie-in toys--The Gruffalo, published in 1999 has been ensconced in the top 10 since it's publication and shows no sign of waning in popularity. Just like We're Going on a Bear Hunt, it's a fantastic read-aloud. Donaldson's longtime collaboration with illustrator Axel Scheffler looks set to become as long-lasting and indivisible as Dahl/Blake. Check out Room on the Broom, a Halloween treat.

Note: The Gruffalo was recently the subject of a BBC article trying to decipher its enormous appeal.

8. Shirley Hughes

Shirley Hughes' Alfie books are synonymous with childhood experiences; the types grown-ups might take for granted but that are monumental in the life of a child. Even when the experience is unpleasant, such as getting accidentally locked inside the house alone, or trying to comfort a neighbor grieving the loss of a pet, Alfie's world is one of patience and understanding and quiet times spent with his little sister, Annie Rose.

9. Anthony Browne

The current UK Children's Laureate is the writer and illustrator of numerous picture books, a format he defends fiercely. Many of his books feature gorillas; all feature a magical realism that is reminiscent of the works of Chris Van Allsburg. Eye-catching, and sometimes eye-popping, illustrations dominate his books, opening the reader's eyes to the wonder of our world and the power of a picture. Two of my favorites are Gorilla and The Piggy Book.

10. Dick King-Smith

I'm rounding off my list with an author who is not known for his picture books (I think the only one he has written is a non-fiction guide to keeping guinea pigs.) But he is an author who was a glaring oversight from the original list. He is everything that is required from a writer for children--he's written loads of books, he is beloved by children and adults alike, and he respects his readers. A farmer at heart, he has based many of his books in the barnyard. The "animal story"is a classic of children's literature, whether used as allegory or simpel literary device. And Dick King-Smith has written some of the best. He earned international acclaim when his Babe: The Sheep Pig was made into an Oscar-nominated film. But before that there was The Fox Busters and, my personal favorite, Martin's Mice.

So there you have it--my list of the Top 10 Greatest British Children's Authors and Books: Picture Book edition. As always, I'd love to hear recommendations and favorites from you.

The Church Mouse--Back in Print!

I've been on a brief hiatus while we finished up the school year at home, but I'm back with fantastic news--Graham Oakley's The Church Mouse will be republished in the United States in September 2010! (At this point, insert a mental image of me doing my happy dance!) Readers of this blog know that I have been begging and pleading for this book, and the subsequent titles in the series, to be reissued for a new audience to enjoy--not to mention those old foggies like myself who simply adore them. And my prayers have been answered! Kane Miller Books, which has been steadily introducing high quality books from around the world to an appreciative American audience, are bringing The Church Mouse to our shores. I certainly hope the rest of the series won't be far behind.

If you are not familiar with the Church Mouse series, here is a brief synopsis: Arthur is a mouse who lives in the church of a busy, unnamed English town. Living is good for Arthur, mainly because he is on friendly terms with Samson, the church cat. Samson is no mouser, after a lifetime of listening to sermons about brotherly love and the meek being blessed. But Arthur is often lonely, being the sole mouse in the church. When he comes upon the idea to invite all of the mice in town to come and live in the church (and here is an example of Oakley's visual wit--Arthur is reading "Exodus" at the time of his inspiration,) no one seems to mind; not unlike the mice who befriend the Disney Cinderella, these rodents are a dab hand at housework.

But it's not all smooth sailing for Arthur, Samson, and the new inhabitants of the church. When a Harvest Festival mishap seems to spell banishment for the mice, they are able to prove their worth to the congregants and ensure their permanent residency as church mice all.

When I read the Church Mice books, I am always struck by Graham Oakley's love for his craft. His experience as a set designer has served him well as a picture book creator. The impressive amount of detail in his illustrations is never wasted. In a double page spread of the church sanctuary where chaos has just reigned, the reader will get as much amusement from the old man sat in the back pew who slept through the whole kerfuffle, as they will from the expressions on the faces of the angry congregants and the crestfallen mice. Each illustration offers so much to look at and enjoy, that it's impossible not to return to these books. They are a joy to read and share, and just as much of a joy to read alone. When I want to show patrons that picture books are not just for kids (har har,) I show them the church mice books. In the past, my church mice books have been held together with an awful lot of binding tape and crossed fingers. What a pleasure to be able to show them a new, pristine edition of this classic.

My work here is done......

Many thanks to Kane Miller Books, who provided me with a copy of the book to preview. They didn't make me beg too much ;)

Rave Review: Bats at the Ballgame by Brian Lies

They've been to the beach. They've patronized the library. And now, Brian Lies' adorable bats are going to watch--what else?--a baseball game. The third installment in this highly appealing series is full of charm, visual humor and--if you are a Red Sox fan--a couple of in-jokes for your reading pleasure.
One of the reasons the bat books are so much fun is the opportunity they provide for sight gags. After a couple of double page spreads of bats flying towards the ball park, Lies treats his readers to the sight of bats hanging from the rafters to take in the game, catching mothdogs and Cricket Jack from a flying vendor. Groundsbats prep the mound with a fork. A dismayed fan hides behind his wings. There is so much to see in each illustration--right side up as well as upside down. And in this particular title there is also the scope for word play to add to the humor. Start with the title: Bats at the Ballgame. Everyone knows that you can't play baseball without a bat! It was inevitable that the line "bats at bat" would be used at some time during the story, yet it's still funny when it finally comes round. And the opportunity to accuse the bat ump of being blind.......well, I suppose Lies just couldn't help himself there!

Red Sox fans will notice that the good guys are wearing red caps (and socks!) An old-timer talks reverently of a player, number 24, making an outstanding catch in the field (I wonder if Dwight Evans is a particular hero to Lies.) There is a green, manual--make that, "batual"--scoreboard, not unlike the one on the Green Monster at Fenway. And the mention of a "pesky pole" is just blatant! But even if the reader isn't a member of Red Sox Nation--simply a fan of the game--there is plenty to enjoy in this clever, affectionate, and engaging love letter to baseball and the fans who follow the bats of summer.

Bats at the Ballgame is due for release in September, 2010. Just in time for the postseason.