Cookie Angel Crumbles

When I was younger, baking gingerbread cookies was a much-anticipated part of my Christmas preparations. I loved decorating them with intricate designs for the random shapes like stars and bells and with animated expressions for the soon-to-be-eaten people. I read the story of the Gingerbread Man many times, but I never had any desire for my cookies to come to life. I don't know whether the lovingly iced and sprinkled protagonist of Cookie Angel finds herself quite suddenly alive on Christmas Eve as a result of fervent wishes from the children who baked her or merely because the cryptically whispering snowflakes falling outside are in the mood to dole out gifts. I don't think it much matters; I would find the story odd either way.

There's an old idea in many children's stories that toys come alive when no one is watching. It's been successfully explored in the Toy Story movies, Hans Christian Andersen's tales, The Velveteen Rabbit and, to my mind at least, Eugene Field's maligned Little Boy Blue. With all these top-notch precedents, I am not prepared to be satisfied with a substandard offering about a motley crew whose leader is edible. At least we don't expect that she will be eaten, at least not right away; there are plans to hang her on the tree, and who really wants to munch on a cookie tainted with pine sap? We don't make it to Christmas, though, at least the part of Christmas in which the humans are awake, so we don't really know Cookie Angel's destiny.

When Cookie Angel receives the gift of life, I assumed that it was for some profound purpose. Perhaps author Bethany Roberts saw it that way. After all, the angel does keep all of the presents in line. But what is the point of them having this rare opportunity to walk and talk when all they do is create chaos and then fall asleep, presumably not to awaken until next Christmas? I don't get it, and while the Nativity scene under the tree goes with the angel and the carols she mysteriously knows how to sing, there's something off about the way the baby Jesus is incorporated into the story.

Vladimir Vagin's illustrations are colorful but pretty generic-looking, though I do like the snowflakes, which look as magical as the text indicates. The future Christmas gifts, which include a teddy bear, a jack-in-the-box, a doll and a monkey, each have distinct personalities, as does the dog that is disturbed by all the noise of the troublemaking toys. There are some amusing antics, but the impression I got throughout most of the action was of meaningless havoc.

A glance at any bookstore or library will soon reveal a wealth of Christmas-themed picture books. With so many tasty alternatives available, I wouldn't recommend that anyone bite into Cookie Angel