When I picked up The Longest Christmas List Ever, I was attracted
by the cover art, featuring a perplexed-looking boy, pencil in hand,
mulling over his Christmas list amidst a sea of brightly wrapped
packages. I didn’t realize that I was familiar with the work of its
creators, Gregg and Evan Spiridellis; that revelation came when I
flipped to the back flap and learned that these were brothers who had
founded JibJab, my favorite source of wry political parodies. Once I saw
that, I figured I must be in for something good. And I was right.
Trevor is a lively little boy who absolutely loves Christmas. One year,
he tears downstairs and rips open his packages in exultation, but the
joy is short-lived, as he realizes that he neglected to make one very
special request of Santa. So he starts a new list, right then and there,
and he keeps adding onto it, thinking up more and more outlandish gifts
and filling up boxes with pads of paper. It’s far too much for one
small boy, but will Trevor understand that before Christmas rolls around
again?
This appealing tale is written in rhyming couplets
that are just as expertly written as one would expect from the men who
came up with This Land, Good to Be in D.C. and Time for Some Campaignin’.
I’ve encountered some Christmas books in which the clunkiness of the
rhyme distracts from the story, so I’m glad that isn’t a concern here.
They dream up some pretty oddball things for Trevor to fantasize about:
“A remote-controlled plane with a camera inside! / An invisible robot
that’s easy to hide! / Binocular glasses with night-vision mode! / A
rip-roaring go-kart to tear down the road!” And for every item mentioned
in the narration, there’s another ten in the illustrations, giving kids
plenty of objects to identify as they examine the pictures.
And they will want to examine them, because these paintings are
delightful. Loaded with little details, they show the absurdity of
Trevor’s youthful greed. Piles of toys, mostly ignored, lie upon the
floor, while mountains of items accumulate in his imagination. My
favorite aspect of the illustrations is his father, a lanky, bearded man
who wanders about with a shell-shocked expression permanently etched
into his face. Living with Trevor seems to be a harrowing experience! I
also love the elderly man who stands behind Trevor at the post office,
rolling his eyes as the boy explains his need to send his boxes of
requests to the North Pole.
Like A Charlie Brown Christmas
and several subsequent holiday classics, this story encourages kids not
to get caught up in consumerism as they prepare for Christmas. It’s
very funny, but it also contains an important message to help counteract
the holiday gimmies.
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