Prolific and much-lauded writer-illustrator Mo Willems
has created several popular series, including the Pigeon books and the
Elephant and Piggie books, but his Knuffle Bunny trilogy holds an
unusual place in his canon because it is best read in order. Each book
finds the main character, Trixie, at a different stage of her childhood,
with her world expanding considerably each time. In the first book,
she remains in her neighborhood and interacts only with her parents,
and she takes her first plunge into comprehensible speech. In the second,
she has mastered verbal communication and spends her days at preschool
among other children her age, eventually making her first close friend
outside the family. In the third book, she is a confident elementary
school student off on an international voyage to see her grandparents.
From a trip to the Laundromat to a trip to Holland, her adventures are
steadily getting bigger.
Trixie remains just as attached to
Knuffle Bunny, her dowdy stuffed rabbit, as she was in the first volume,
so of course, she brings him along with her for the big trip, counting
on having him to cuddle with during her very first airplane flight.
Unfortunately, as anyone who has read the first two books knows, she’s
not so skilled at hanging on to her treasured toy. On this occasion, she
won’t be able to instantly retrieve him; she leaves him behind on the
plane, and by the time she realizes what she’s done, the plane is gone,
and Knuffle Bunny is off for a voyage around the world. Will she ever
see him again? And how will she get along without him in the meantime?
Willems
once remarked in an interview that the word Knuffle is an adaptation of
Knuffel, the Dutch word for snuggle, so it seems quite fitting that the
last book should find Trixie in Holland, snuggling with her Oma and Opa
in her beloved bunny’s absence. Most of the book takes place there,
which makes it educational for children as well as entertaining. As with
the previous books, this is a mixed-media effort, with black-and-white
photographs serving as backgrounds for colorful hand-drawn characters.
Kids can wander the Dutch streets with Trixie as she eats at a café and
poses in front of an authentic windmill, and they can gasp along with
her at the garish pink Dutch-spouting robo-bunny her grandparents buy
her in an effort to ease her malaise at losing Knuffle Bunny, seemingly
for good this time.
Additionally, in a four-page fold-out
spread, Willems offers a peek at some of the other places Knuffle Bunny
might end up in his travels, showing him in eight very different
locations. I wish that Willems had identified these places in a note in
the back, but kids can still have fun trying to figure out what country
they are seeing; it just might take a little more work for parents to
confirm the accuracy of their guesses.
While all three books
contain a mix of the humorous and the emotionally resonant, I would say
that the first book is primarily funny, while the second is equally
touching and comical. I would deem the third book the least funny of the
three and the most poignant. We don’t know precisely how old Trixie is
here; I would guess at least seven, and possibly as old as ten. She’s
old enough to have a real awareness of how her life is changing, and
that scares and saddens her. However, it also excited her, and by the
end of the book, she has come to embrace the new possibilities that come
with being a big kid.
Most of the pages in this book have a
beige background, and while a few characters are drawn directly on the
page, most are set within a photographic panel, with a majority of pages
having between one and three. As always, Willems does a lot with a
little. One of my favorite parts of this book is the series of panels in
which Trixie, having realized that her bunny is gone, heads off to
inform her father, who is busy enjoying a pleasant chat with his dad, a
charming fellow with a thick gray beard, square spectacles and a bald
head. In four pictures, we see him go from relaxed to on-edge to staring
at Trixie to assuming a hopeless face-palm position. “Trixie didn’t
tell her daddy that Knuffle Bunny was gone,” Willems writes. “She didn’t
have to.” This is especially striking given that the central conflict
of the first book hinges on Trixie’s inability to communicate with her
dad and his obliviousness to the source of her distress. Just as Trixie
is growing up, her dad is maturing as a father and learning to be more
attuned to his daughter.
Like the first two books, Knuffle Bunny Free,
a sweet, heart-tugging play on words, includes an epilogue, and this
one drives home the fact that the Knuffle Bunny series will end with
number three. I’ll admit I got a little teary as I read those last four
pages, which are written directly to the real Trixie as Willems imagines
what the next decade or two may hold in store for her. The book proper
also ends with a letter, leaving the reader with a real sense of the
power that words have to connect people. Perhaps children who read this
may be inspired to begin correspondences of their own: with their
grandparents, with each other, with distant pen pals they have yet to
meet. They might even decide to write the author himself, which he
encourages by posting his mailing address in the FAQ section of his
website, www.mowillems.com.
The Knuffle Bunny trilogy is the
continuing story of a pudgy plush rabbit that is always getting lost.
It’s the story of two adults, especially one overwhelmed dad, learning
how to be better parents. But mostly, it’s the story of Trixie, a girl
who is gradually growing older and taller and wiser and kinder. The
first two are pretty much unavoidable; the second two are just a shade
easier to achieve when children read such edifying books as Mo Willems’
Knuffle Bunny series.
Reviews and essays, including all my reviews posted on Epinions from 2000 to 2014.
Showing posts with label Mo Willems. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mo Willems. Show all posts
Monday, June 13, 2011
Sunday, June 5, 2011
Mo Willems Travels the World in You Can Never Find a Rickshaw When It Monsoons
“In the world of children’s books, the biggest new talent to emerge thus
far in the '00s is the writer-illustrator Mo Willems.” This quote from The New York Times Book Review may seem a bit bold, but I’d have a hard time arguing with it. Willems, who has been lauded for his work on Sesame Street
and his prolific output of high-quality books for the past decade or
so, is a minimalistic genius with a knack for crafting stories that are
at once hilarious and poignant. I’ve been consistently impressed with
his abilities, so when my friend Libbie passed along the intriguing
volume on which this quote functions as a back-cover blurb, I was eager
to delve into the book and see what insights it might hold.
The book in question is You Can Never Find a Rickshaw When It Monsoons: The World on One Cartoon a Day. The hefty book documents the trip that Willems took in 1990, when he was a 22-year-old college graduate. With a notebook, a pen and a spare set of clothes, he set off for a year-long voyage, on the cheap and off the beaten path, a journey of self-discovery and cultural awareness. He didn’t follow a clear roadmap; his went with the flow and spent as much time sampling local flavor as he could, proudly wearing the badge of “traveler” rather than “tourist” – a distinction, he says in his introduction, made mostly by the fact that “travelers” do not buy T-shirts of the destinations they have visited.
Earlier this year, I tried to do the 365 Project, an online challenge to take and post a photo every single day for a year. I lasted little more than a month. How much more difficult would it be to manage a cartoon a day? Then again, while I am impressed with his diligence, I know that if I were to undertake such a monumental trek, I would want to have some record of it, and if you’re a skilled cartoonist, this seems like a natural way to do it. I don’t know if it ever occurred to him at the time that he might one day compile the results into a book; he describes the cartooning as “the ritual that held the trip together, gave it purpose, made it real.” Each day got one sketch and only one, and it’s funny to read his incredulous reflections on some of the cartoons, wondering why this was the moment from that day that he decided to capture. He stopped just short of 365 days, which is rather disappointing considering how close he came to a perfect year-long record, but maybe it’s fitting for a trip and a collection of cartoons that is decidedly off-beat.
Willems’ trip is an epic adventure. While I am impressed with his ritualistic discipline, what really wows me is his fearlessness in meandering from one country to the next, usually with no companions to guide him along his way. While Willems displays a talent for making new friends, and this must have made his trip considerably more pleasant than it might otherwise have been, there’s still a sense of isolation about his trek. This is his solo journey, and others just happen to come in and out of it from time to time. For me, a gal whose strongest literary identification has always been with Bilbo Baggins, the timid protagonist of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit whose deep adventurous streak lay dormant for years before it burst forth, I found that reading this further stirred up my wild Took side, even though only a few of the stops on Willems’ itinerary are on my own must-see list.
Dave Barry provides a footnoted Foreword on the subject of travel that had me in gales of laughter as he describes the tedium of being a part of an official TWA tour and expounds upon his frustration with European toilets and tour guides who are too obsessed with flying buttresses. Willems’ introduction is quite amusing as well, though it also explains the circumstances of his trip quite effectively and includes some reflection upon how it impacted his life. He saves most of that, though, for the epilogue, in which he discusses how his trip forced him to see that the world may feel very big when he’s globe-trotting all year, but the sentiments about which the Sherman Brothers wrote have a basis in fact. People on the other side of the world are just as real as those in the United States, and he can no longer feel detached when he watches footage of disasters unfolding in some other part of the globe. The trip and his book, then, are largely lessons in empathy. While he sees the weird, the wacky, the wonderful things that make each place unique, he shows that even in the most remote locations, that shared humanity is very real.
Willems divides the book into sections of a month at a time, with each month’s entries preceded by a two-page spread of a map containing a list of countries he visited and a rough trail depicting his journey. He started and ended in the United States; in between, he visited England, Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, France, Spain, West Germany, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, Israel, Egypt, Pakistan, India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Hong Kong, China, Macao, Japan and Canada. It seems he especially liked Thailand, as he spent well over a month there; other stops got short shrift, like Israel, which he left early after missing the bus to Jerusalem and deciding to hop a bus to Cairo instead. When he does return to America, it’s interesting to see him making his observations from an outsider’s point of view. After so much time away, it’s easy for him to look at the United States as foreign territory too, especially places he’s never been before.
Every cartoon in the book has a page to itself. Those who have come to appreciate Willems’ style from his children’s books will most likely recognize some similarities, particularly in his self-portraits, which have much in common with his illustrations of Trixie’s dad in the Knuffle Bunny books. The vast majority of the cartoons depict people, most of them random strangers doing something that struck him as unusual or funny. The drawings are full of bold lines and expressive faces, and each includes a caption noting the date, the location and the moment’s significance. Underneath most pictures is further explanation by Willems 15 years later. Some of these notes are illuminating, some poignant, and most have some element of humor to them.
For me, standouts include the following:
6-13 – “Perhaps they come standard with a third-class ticket, because never in my life have I taken a ferry trip that didn’t include at least one drunken Australian guitar player.”
7-13 – Willems marvels over the shallow chatter he overhears from a pair of American girls touring Dachau.
8-17 – A simple depiction of a raging monster with the caption “my tummy”.
9-19 – A self-portrait depicting his joy at receiving mail from his friends back home via the American Express office.
10-10 – Another self-portrait, this time showing Willems attempting to take a “shortcut” across a river in India.
11-22 – A despondent Frenchman searches for his lost puppy in Nepal.
12-24 – A description of the difficulties a traveler faces in finding decent reading material.
1-10 – A reflection on the joys of hitch-hiking in Malaysia.
2-18 – “Scarecrow traffic cops.”
3-17 – A Chinese version of Randy, the overly layered little brother in A Christmas Story.
4-18 – A kid trying really hard to get toss a ketchup packet into a bucket at a McDonald’s birthday party in New Mexico.
5-14 – The rather detailed account of Willems’ ordeal with a terrifying Canadian border guard.
This is not a children’s book. Willems depicts drugs, alcohol and various forms of debauchery. He discusses the devastating effects of wars and natural disasters. He occasionally draws people half-clothed or entirely naked. While he thanks his parents for giving him the travel bug from a young age and espouses the virtues of children exploring the world early, this volume contains his ruminations as a young adult and a more mature adult, and the intended audience is adults as well. That’s not to say that a child might not get something out of this, especially a teenager thinking of traveling abroad in the near future. However, I think most elementary-aged kids would find many of the pictures and explanations perplexing, and many parents would find them inappropriate. Because of Willems’ far-reaching popularity with youngsters and because this looks like a book that could be aimed at that age group, it’s best to be aware that this is a Willems book that deviates from the norm.
But oh, is it fascinating. I loved seeing his little slices of life and reading his observations on how the world has changed and how it hasn’t. I think the book provides great insight into how he thinks and offers hints about where he might have gotten ideas for some of his later stories. The book is witty, thought-provoking and compassionate, and in this way, it does have a great deal in common with the rest of Willems’ books. It’s an unusual exercise in immersion journalism that leaves the reader wanting to see the world but also more ready to find the remarkable in the everyday. As Willems says, “Whenever I want to roam free and experience the world again, all I have to do is open my front door and step outside. I know that the world will be there to meet me.” Wise words indeed. But I’m glad he decided to meet the world first.
The book in question is You Can Never Find a Rickshaw When It Monsoons: The World on One Cartoon a Day. The hefty book documents the trip that Willems took in 1990, when he was a 22-year-old college graduate. With a notebook, a pen and a spare set of clothes, he set off for a year-long voyage, on the cheap and off the beaten path, a journey of self-discovery and cultural awareness. He didn’t follow a clear roadmap; his went with the flow and spent as much time sampling local flavor as he could, proudly wearing the badge of “traveler” rather than “tourist” – a distinction, he says in his introduction, made mostly by the fact that “travelers” do not buy T-shirts of the destinations they have visited.
Earlier this year, I tried to do the 365 Project, an online challenge to take and post a photo every single day for a year. I lasted little more than a month. How much more difficult would it be to manage a cartoon a day? Then again, while I am impressed with his diligence, I know that if I were to undertake such a monumental trek, I would want to have some record of it, and if you’re a skilled cartoonist, this seems like a natural way to do it. I don’t know if it ever occurred to him at the time that he might one day compile the results into a book; he describes the cartooning as “the ritual that held the trip together, gave it purpose, made it real.” Each day got one sketch and only one, and it’s funny to read his incredulous reflections on some of the cartoons, wondering why this was the moment from that day that he decided to capture. He stopped just short of 365 days, which is rather disappointing considering how close he came to a perfect year-long record, but maybe it’s fitting for a trip and a collection of cartoons that is decidedly off-beat.
Willems’ trip is an epic adventure. While I am impressed with his ritualistic discipline, what really wows me is his fearlessness in meandering from one country to the next, usually with no companions to guide him along his way. While Willems displays a talent for making new friends, and this must have made his trip considerably more pleasant than it might otherwise have been, there’s still a sense of isolation about his trek. This is his solo journey, and others just happen to come in and out of it from time to time. For me, a gal whose strongest literary identification has always been with Bilbo Baggins, the timid protagonist of J. R. R. Tolkien’s The Hobbit whose deep adventurous streak lay dormant for years before it burst forth, I found that reading this further stirred up my wild Took side, even though only a few of the stops on Willems’ itinerary are on my own must-see list.
Dave Barry provides a footnoted Foreword on the subject of travel that had me in gales of laughter as he describes the tedium of being a part of an official TWA tour and expounds upon his frustration with European toilets and tour guides who are too obsessed with flying buttresses. Willems’ introduction is quite amusing as well, though it also explains the circumstances of his trip quite effectively and includes some reflection upon how it impacted his life. He saves most of that, though, for the epilogue, in which he discusses how his trip forced him to see that the world may feel very big when he’s globe-trotting all year, but the sentiments about which the Sherman Brothers wrote have a basis in fact. People on the other side of the world are just as real as those in the United States, and he can no longer feel detached when he watches footage of disasters unfolding in some other part of the globe. The trip and his book, then, are largely lessons in empathy. While he sees the weird, the wacky, the wonderful things that make each place unique, he shows that even in the most remote locations, that shared humanity is very real.
Willems divides the book into sections of a month at a time, with each month’s entries preceded by a two-page spread of a map containing a list of countries he visited and a rough trail depicting his journey. He started and ended in the United States; in between, he visited England, Belgium, Holland, Luxembourg, France, Spain, West Germany, Czechoslovakia, Hungary, Yugoslavia, Greece, Turkey, Israel, Egypt, Pakistan, India, Nepal, Bangladesh, Thailand, Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia, Hong Kong, China, Macao, Japan and Canada. It seems he especially liked Thailand, as he spent well over a month there; other stops got short shrift, like Israel, which he left early after missing the bus to Jerusalem and deciding to hop a bus to Cairo instead. When he does return to America, it’s interesting to see him making his observations from an outsider’s point of view. After so much time away, it’s easy for him to look at the United States as foreign territory too, especially places he’s never been before.
Every cartoon in the book has a page to itself. Those who have come to appreciate Willems’ style from his children’s books will most likely recognize some similarities, particularly in his self-portraits, which have much in common with his illustrations of Trixie’s dad in the Knuffle Bunny books. The vast majority of the cartoons depict people, most of them random strangers doing something that struck him as unusual or funny. The drawings are full of bold lines and expressive faces, and each includes a caption noting the date, the location and the moment’s significance. Underneath most pictures is further explanation by Willems 15 years later. Some of these notes are illuminating, some poignant, and most have some element of humor to them.
For me, standouts include the following:
6-13 – “Perhaps they come standard with a third-class ticket, because never in my life have I taken a ferry trip that didn’t include at least one drunken Australian guitar player.”
7-13 – Willems marvels over the shallow chatter he overhears from a pair of American girls touring Dachau.
8-17 – A simple depiction of a raging monster with the caption “my tummy”.
9-19 – A self-portrait depicting his joy at receiving mail from his friends back home via the American Express office.
10-10 – Another self-portrait, this time showing Willems attempting to take a “shortcut” across a river in India.
11-22 – A despondent Frenchman searches for his lost puppy in Nepal.
12-24 – A description of the difficulties a traveler faces in finding decent reading material.
1-10 – A reflection on the joys of hitch-hiking in Malaysia.
2-18 – “Scarecrow traffic cops.”
3-17 – A Chinese version of Randy, the overly layered little brother in A Christmas Story.
4-18 – A kid trying really hard to get toss a ketchup packet into a bucket at a McDonald’s birthday party in New Mexico.
5-14 – The rather detailed account of Willems’ ordeal with a terrifying Canadian border guard.
This is not a children’s book. Willems depicts drugs, alcohol and various forms of debauchery. He discusses the devastating effects of wars and natural disasters. He occasionally draws people half-clothed or entirely naked. While he thanks his parents for giving him the travel bug from a young age and espouses the virtues of children exploring the world early, this volume contains his ruminations as a young adult and a more mature adult, and the intended audience is adults as well. That’s not to say that a child might not get something out of this, especially a teenager thinking of traveling abroad in the near future. However, I think most elementary-aged kids would find many of the pictures and explanations perplexing, and many parents would find them inappropriate. Because of Willems’ far-reaching popularity with youngsters and because this looks like a book that could be aimed at that age group, it’s best to be aware that this is a Willems book that deviates from the norm.
But oh, is it fascinating. I loved seeing his little slices of life and reading his observations on how the world has changed and how it hasn’t. I think the book provides great insight into how he thinks and offers hints about where he might have gotten ideas for some of his later stories. The book is witty, thought-provoking and compassionate, and in this way, it does have a great deal in common with the rest of Willems’ books. It’s an unusual exercise in immersion journalism that leaves the reader wanting to see the world but also more ready to find the remarkable in the everyday. As Willems says, “Whenever I want to roam free and experience the world again, all I have to do is open my front door and step outside. I know that the world will be there to meet me.” Wise words indeed. But I’m glad he decided to meet the world first.
Saturday, June 4, 2011
Show and Tell Causes a Crisis in Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity
In the thoroughly charming mixed-media Caldecott Honor picture book Knuffle Bunny,
Mo Willems introduces readers to a fictionalized version of his family,
at the heart of which is Trixie, a little blond-haired girl with a
beloved stuffed bunny. In that book, she is a mere toddler too young to
form thoughts into coherent words, which drives the minor disaster
around which the plot revolves. In Knuffle Bunny Too: A Case of Mistaken Identity,
Trixie is older and fully capable of comprehensible speech. She’s old
enough to attend preschool, where a new Knuffle kerfuffle is about to
unfold…
Trixie loves her Knuffle Bunny as much as she ever did. She is exceedingly proud of this well-worn toy that is beginning to look a bit like the Velveteen Rabbit. When she is allowed to bring him to school for Show and Tell, she can scarcely contain her excitement. Then disaster strikes. A classmate arrives with the exact same bunny! This is grounds for instant hatred. And you thought it was bad when two seniors wore the same dress to the prom! Trixie and Sonja are so incensed with each other that their teacher confiscates both bunnies, returning them later. The feud dissipates. But later that night, when Trixie is alone in her bed trying to snuggle her way into dreamland, she makes a traumatic discovery. She has the wrong bunny.
While accidental toy-switching is not something I have experienced, it seems like a very believable scenario, as does the fierce sense of jealousy and hurt pride that set up the circumstances under which the switch took place. Trixie is our protagonist, and most kids reading this book will probably have read the first installment already, so we see Sonja largely through her eyes. This means that initially, she doesn’t come across so well. In fact, she looks downright mean as she argues with Trixie about the correct pronunciation of “Knuffle” – perhaps a sly nod to existing debate by readers on this very topic.
As before, the backgrounds in the book are black-and-white photographs with occasional hand-drawn elements and color highlights. Set against a pale blue backdrop, the boxes pop on the pages, sometimes one large illustration, sometimes as many as three. They are populated with figures that have a flat look to them but nonetheless feel vibrant and full of personality. This is especially true of Knuffle Bunny himself, with his big black nose, buggy eyes and rotund middle, as well as Trixie and Sonja and their frazzled fathers.
In both books, we get a scene of Trixie’s dad frantically running somewhere to save the day for his darling daughter; in this book, it may be even funnier because Sonja and Trixie have more than just a bunny in common. Each girl has a dad who is willing to go above and beyond the call of duty to restore tranquility to his daughter. That’s not to say they rush into superhero mode without some grumbling, but the realization that both dads are undergoing major inconvenience only makes their actions more endearing.
One defining trait of Willems’ work is his minimalism. While the illustrations here are busier than in some of his books, capturing the hustle and bustle of New York City life, the story remains very simple, and he uses as few words as possible to tell it. Sometimes the picture does the talking all by itself, rendering the narration scarcely necessary, as when we first see Sonja with her bunny in a series of panels that zoom further in on him each time. As I look at these pages, I imagine a series of suspenseful violin shrieks such as one might find in a thriller. Meanwhile, placing Trixie directly upon the blue page instead of inside an illustration box accentuates the way her world has just been shaken.
As wonderful as the original book is, I would argue that Knuffle Bunny Too is even funnier and sweeter than the first, and while it’s loaded with kid appeal, much of the humor will probably resonate most strongly with parents. While a child might take away from the book a desire to use commonalities as a way to build friendships instead of rivalries, adults will also see it as a tribute to the crazy things parents will do for their kids – sacrifices that, in many cases, will sail right over the kids’ heads.
It’s odd to think of a book of this length having an epilogue, but setting the final two-page spread slightly apart from the rest just increases the impact of what’s probably my favorite bit of the story. It’s one of the parts that adults will probably appreciate most. They may also be quicker to pick up on Willems’ references to his own work throughout the book, including nods to Pigeon, star of several acclaimed tales, and Leonardo the Terrible Monster. But children who loved Knuffle Bunny will definitely want to pick up Knuffle Bunny Too, which is probably the most relatable of the trilogy, since the protagonist is old enough to be a peer this time and since it occurs under much more normal circumstances than the third book, which is equally entrancing. The presence of two Knuffle Bunnies may be problematic for Trixie and Sonja, but it sure is a treat for us.
Trixie loves her Knuffle Bunny as much as she ever did. She is exceedingly proud of this well-worn toy that is beginning to look a bit like the Velveteen Rabbit. When she is allowed to bring him to school for Show and Tell, she can scarcely contain her excitement. Then disaster strikes. A classmate arrives with the exact same bunny! This is grounds for instant hatred. And you thought it was bad when two seniors wore the same dress to the prom! Trixie and Sonja are so incensed with each other that their teacher confiscates both bunnies, returning them later. The feud dissipates. But later that night, when Trixie is alone in her bed trying to snuggle her way into dreamland, she makes a traumatic discovery. She has the wrong bunny.
While accidental toy-switching is not something I have experienced, it seems like a very believable scenario, as does the fierce sense of jealousy and hurt pride that set up the circumstances under which the switch took place. Trixie is our protagonist, and most kids reading this book will probably have read the first installment already, so we see Sonja largely through her eyes. This means that initially, she doesn’t come across so well. In fact, she looks downright mean as she argues with Trixie about the correct pronunciation of “Knuffle” – perhaps a sly nod to existing debate by readers on this very topic.
As before, the backgrounds in the book are black-and-white photographs with occasional hand-drawn elements and color highlights. Set against a pale blue backdrop, the boxes pop on the pages, sometimes one large illustration, sometimes as many as three. They are populated with figures that have a flat look to them but nonetheless feel vibrant and full of personality. This is especially true of Knuffle Bunny himself, with his big black nose, buggy eyes and rotund middle, as well as Trixie and Sonja and their frazzled fathers.
In both books, we get a scene of Trixie’s dad frantically running somewhere to save the day for his darling daughter; in this book, it may be even funnier because Sonja and Trixie have more than just a bunny in common. Each girl has a dad who is willing to go above and beyond the call of duty to restore tranquility to his daughter. That’s not to say they rush into superhero mode without some grumbling, but the realization that both dads are undergoing major inconvenience only makes their actions more endearing.
One defining trait of Willems’ work is his minimalism. While the illustrations here are busier than in some of his books, capturing the hustle and bustle of New York City life, the story remains very simple, and he uses as few words as possible to tell it. Sometimes the picture does the talking all by itself, rendering the narration scarcely necessary, as when we first see Sonja with her bunny in a series of panels that zoom further in on him each time. As I look at these pages, I imagine a series of suspenseful violin shrieks such as one might find in a thriller. Meanwhile, placing Trixie directly upon the blue page instead of inside an illustration box accentuates the way her world has just been shaken.
As wonderful as the original book is, I would argue that Knuffle Bunny Too is even funnier and sweeter than the first, and while it’s loaded with kid appeal, much of the humor will probably resonate most strongly with parents. While a child might take away from the book a desire to use commonalities as a way to build friendships instead of rivalries, adults will also see it as a tribute to the crazy things parents will do for their kids – sacrifices that, in many cases, will sail right over the kids’ heads.
It’s odd to think of a book of this length having an epilogue, but setting the final two-page spread slightly apart from the rest just increases the impact of what’s probably my favorite bit of the story. It’s one of the parts that adults will probably appreciate most. They may also be quicker to pick up on Willems’ references to his own work throughout the book, including nods to Pigeon, star of several acclaimed tales, and Leonardo the Terrible Monster. But children who loved Knuffle Bunny will definitely want to pick up Knuffle Bunny Too, which is probably the most relatable of the trilogy, since the protagonist is old enough to be a peer this time and since it occurs under much more normal circumstances than the third book, which is equally entrancing. The presence of two Knuffle Bunnies may be problematic for Trixie and Sonja, but it sure is a treat for us.
Saturday, May 21, 2011
Number 3000: 1001 Tales to Warm Your Mind
Late last year, I realized that I was creeping up on my 3000th post here
on Epinions. Because the vast majority of my Epinions writing has been
story-related, whether it’s media reviews or media-inspired poetic
ramblings, I thought a fitting way to mark that milestone would be with a
review of 1001 Children’s Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up,
a guide to some of the greatest kids’ books ever published. Moreover, I
would sail on a sea of stories until I reached 3000 by hosting a
write-off; hopefully it would motivate me to reach my goal by my 30th
birthday and introduce me to some terrific tales in the process.
My Tales to Warm Your Mind Write-Off did motivate me, but instead of writing faster, I seemed to slow down, attempting instead to both write and read more deeply. As my three-month-long write-off stretched into six, I felt a more profound sense of community with some of my fellow members and allowed some of their stories to seep into my soul. My little write-off turned into a far more rewarding experience than I expected, so I certainly don’t mind that I missed my birthday by three months. Instead, I’m happy to be able to share a milestone day with my dear cyber-sister Beth, who celebrates eight years on Epinions today and can attest to the power of stories to bring people together.
1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up is an impressive but not unwieldy collection of suggestions for the avid reader and the parent of the avid reader. Each featured book has between half a page and two pages to itself, often with an illustration or two. Julia Eccleshare is listed as the general editor, and she is the one responsible for the Introduction, which comments on the children's book as a work of art and as the realm of fiction to which story is most central. She talks about the different considerations that went into compiling this list and notes how the book's format invites contemplation of the changes in style and substance that can be charted over the years. The book descriptions to be found in the 900+ pages to follow come courtesy of more than a hundred different writers, many of whom have published children's books themselves.
Aside from the preface (a charming reflection by illustrator Quentin Blake, best known for his collaborations with Roald Dahl), introduction, indexes and contributor bios, the book is divided into five sections, each of which includes a small color-coded half-circle on a designated spot on the side of the page. This makes it very easy to glance at the book and open to the desired section: red for ages 0-3, orange for 3+, yellow for 5+, green for 8+ and blue for 12+. Within each section, the books are listed in chronological order, which also makes finding things quite a bit easier. If you want to see if a particular book is included, you can consult the index of titles at the beginning of the book; the index of authors at the end is equally handy.
Each entry includes the title in large bold print, followed by the year of publication in smaller print. Below that is the name of the author, indicated by a tiny pen icon, and, if applicable, the illustrator, indicated by a tiny pencil. Below that is a small section whose contents include such info as Original Title, Nationality, Theme, Publisher and Awards. In many cases, the cover of the featured book is included; sometimes an inside illustration is chosen, and some descriptions are accompanied by a pertinent quote. Many of the pages also include a small box the same color as that section's tab listing related books. These may be suggested by virtue of having the same author or similar components. For instance, Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island has a pull-out box listing “Other Great Stories of the Sea,” and Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories suggests “More Fabulous Folklore”.
The main feature, however, is the book description, which is usually three or four paragraphs in length. Most of the contributors review several books and are identified by their initials at the end of the entry, but about a quarter of the writers are set apart, each reviewing just one book of particular personal significance. In these cases, a small gray tab at the top indicates who the featured reviewer is. These are especially interesting entries, since they delve into the reviewer's personal experience, whereas most books receive a more detached treatment. I love Judy Blume's reflections on Ludwig Bemelmans' Madeline, which she adored so deeply as a girl that she hid the copy she had taken out of the library, not wanting to be parted with it. “Some books you never forget,” she says. “Some characters become your friends for life.” This is most assuredly true.
Other authors with reviews of this nature include beloved author-illustrator Eric Carle, most famous for The Very Hungry Caterpillar; Newbery-winning author Jean Craighead George, whose love of nature permeates her work; and Newbery-winning Lois Lowry, whose works offer compelling commentary on the human condition. While these are wonderfully illuminating, especially for fans of that particular author, each entry in the book is well-crafted. Some of them are mostly plot summaries. Others focus upon the unusual characteristics of the illustrations or the way in which certain characters have permeated popular culture. Most entries include some mix of elements, discussing the content of the book, the historical context and the public reaction.
One thing that surprised me about this volume was how many of the books were originally written in a language other than English. This gives the book a very international flavor, and while some recommendations, like Astrid Lindgren's Pippi Longstocking and Johanna Spyri's Heidi's Wandering and Learning Years, reside on my bookshelf, I confess that the book highlights many books and authors that are entirely unfamiliar to me. Unfortunately, I have found that translated versions of most of these foreign-language books are difficult to track down, especially the ones for younger readers.
One interesting aspect of this book, which Eccleshare touches on in her introduction, is the way in which its demonstrates how the definition of what constitutes children's literature has changed over the years. Many of the books here, particularly those written prior to the 20th century, were not originally written specifically for children, but they have come to be thought of primarily as children's literature, or at least as appropriate for children as older readers. Examples of this include Aesop's Fables, the oldest entry in the collection; Johann Wyss's The Swiss Family Robinson; Alexandre Dumas's The Three Musketeers and Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. I was a little surprised at some of the books that were designated as children's lit, particularly in the 12+ section; then again, many of these books are staples of high school reading, so they certainly are appropriate for teenagers even if they were written with more of an adult audience in mind.
The smallest section by far is the 0-3 category, which is only about 40 pages long. Selections in this section include Make Way for Ducklings, the Robert McCloskey classic that inspired a whimsical series of statues that I had the pleasure of seeing up-close in Boston, and that perpetually popular tale of encouragement, Watty Piper's The Little Engine That Could. Among the books I sought out as a result of this section are Pat Hutchins' Rosie's Walk, a funny retro tale about an oblivious chicken who unwittingly thwarts a hungry fox, and David McKee's Elmer, a charming story about a multi-colored elephant.
The 3+ section is considerably longer at nearly 120 pages. Here's where we start to meet some of my really formative characters, like Winnie-the-Pooh - though I'll confess I first met the Silly Old Bear through Disney and didn't become well acquainted with the Milne version until years later – and, while we're on the subject of bears, Paddington and the Berenstain Bears. This is also the place to look for the works of childhood staple Dr. Seuss and the brilliantly minimalist Mo Willems. Speaking of minimalism, I have this section to thank for my discovery of Leo Lionni's touching Little Blue and Little Yellow, as well as the urban sprawl saga of Virginia Lee Burton's The Little House.
The 5+ section is longer still at about 200 pages, and some truly wondrous picture books grace this portion of the collection. However, because this is a slightly older age bracket, this is where we start to see chapter books, as well as poetry collections by Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky. Some of the giants of Easy Readerdom are here, including Cynthia Rylant and Arnold Lobel. While I would recommend the irresistible Mr. Putter and Tabby over Henry and Mudge, the latter is probably Rylant's most popular series, so I understand its inclusion. I also agree wholeheartedly with Frog and Toad as Lobel's ideal representatives. Few fictional friendships have amused or moved me more. Irrepressible Ramona Quimby, to whom I'm afraid I related quite a bit as a rambunctious young'un, makes an appearance here too. Meanwhile, this section led me to David Shannon's A Bad Case of Stripes and Jen Wojtowicz's The Boy Who Grew Flowers, both of which deal with the struggles inherent in standing out from the crowd in a classroom setting.
The largest section in the book is the 8+ group, which stretches for more than 400 pages. This is where you will find J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, the first novel that was ever read to me and the one that furnished my quote to live by: “You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all!” It's the home of L. M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, the book whose eloquent heroine I adored as long as she wasn't wrongly reaming out her admiring classmate Gilbert. This book introduced me to the gentle Matthew Cuthbert, the literary character who reminds me most of my late grandpa, and it taught me the term “kindred spirit,” which instantly joined my lexicon as a phrase to denote a cherished friend whose tastes and temperament are remarkably similar to one's own. Then, of course, there is J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, which took me through college and beyond and solidified several friendships. Moreover, up to that point, the publication of the final volume was perhaps the most significant pop cultural milestone of my life. The Chronicles of Narnia, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Bridge to Terabithia, Where the Red Fern Grows and many other novels that riveted me all make the cut here, and many of the books in this section are ones that plenty of adults have read for pleasure on their own.
I'm a little surprised that the 12+ section isn't even longer, since this is essentially the Young Adult portion and so many of the books here are really just adult novels. However, it does seem that as a separate division, the young adult designation is a rather recent phenomenon, so while we're getting plenty of adult crossover, there aren't a lot of books that started out in this niche. Those that do include Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series and Louis Sachar's Holes. Considering its length, I didn't expect to find Tolkien's Lord of the Rings listed, but it's here, though the description rather makes me suspect that whoever was assigned this epic never actually read it. (Frodo is described as an “unwilling hero” who saves Middle-earth “by first gaining and then safely returning the magical ring, which makes its bearer all-powerful, to its true home deep in the mountains.” (Ah, yes, that cozy reunion between Sauron and his beloved ring. And oh, the lengths that stubborn scallywag Frodo had to go to in order to gain this treasure in the first place!)
Out of curiosity, before I sat down to write this review, I went through the book and jotted down all of the titles that I had read. Rather to my disgruntlement, it was only one-fifth of the 1001 titles. I still have a lot of catching up to do! Of course, even with all those books, any avid reader will no doubt be able to point out omissions of their own favorites. For instance, the prolific Mercer Mayer, best known for his expansive line of Little Critter books, doesn't show up at all, nor does author-illustrator Jan Brett, notable for her richly artistic folktales with detailed borders around each page. As someone who has happily gobbled up the first 15 books in the Trixie Belden series since January, I'm miffed that while Nancy Drew merits a mention, the Bob-Whites of the Glen do not. However, a majority of the authors whose work I've enjoyed show up somewhere in the book, and if you're stumped for new things to read, this collection can offer some excellent recommendations.
Beloved books come to us in all sorts of different ways, from catching our eye on the shelf of a bookstore or library to being praised by a respected friend. This collection is yet another avenue. If you are looking for some interesting new books for the children in your life, you're sure to find some sterling stories if you peruse the pages of 1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up. But bear in mind that these books are not exclusively for children. To quote C. S. Lewis, “When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” For readers of all ages who are not embarrassed to get swept away by a powerful story, this guide is a treasure trove.
******************************************************
I joined Epinions back in January of 2000 while searching for a place to write book reviews online. I was looking for a creative outlet and a bit of cash, and I found both. I wrote eagerly in the beginning, but most of my efforts were rather hurried and haphazard. It took a year or two before I really got the knack of reviewing, and it's a continuing learning process. Gradually coming out of my shell and interacting more with other members beyond just posting my reviews has made Epinions that much more rewarding and motivated me to write more often and more artfully. I've read the work of dozens of talented reviewers and traded comments with many of them; I can't begin to list them all here, but a few members merit a special mention...
Sleeper54 – Thank you, Tom, for all of your considerate comments and emails over the years. The niggles have improved plenty of reviews, and the compliments are deeply appreciated.
Jedikermit – Thank you, Quinn, for being my go-to person for all things Muppet.
Dragonfire88 – Thank you, Marie, for so many great geeky comment exchanges.
GaelKM – Thank you, Gael, for basking with me in the love of all things Irish.
Mql1208 – Thank you, Megan, for your invigorating thoughts on some of my favorite off-beat movies.
Popsrocks – Thank you, Phil, for your omnipresent optimism even in the most challenging circumstances.
Talyseon – Thank you, Mark, for pouring such passion into everything you undertake.
Toiletoctopus – Thank you, Mike, for your inspiring example of how to carry on a loved one's legacy.
Texas-Swede – Thank you, Thomas, fellow Swedish American, for your consistent courtesy and enthusiasm.
Bethesdalily – Thank you, Nicole, for the sense of joy and serenity that envelops me when I read your reviews and comments. With the eyes of your soul, you see the world more clearly than most people I know.
Imagine_Stars – Thank you, Shar, for the feast of words I've come to expect whenever I read your reviews. You write with such conviction and humor, and your comments are among the most thoughtful I've ever received.
Carstairs38 – Thank you, Mark, for just being you. You are a true kindred spirit whose warmth and wit have brightened many a day, and my life is so much richer because I know you.
Befus - Thank you, Beth, for being the best "big sis" a gal could ask for. You bring out the best in me as a writer and a person, and I feel blessed to call you my friend.
Since this review signals the conclusion of my Tales to Warm Your Mind Write-Off, I would also like to take a moment to thank everyone who participated, especially Mark and Thomas, who contributed so prolifically. I am also grateful to the Category Leads, especially Book Leads Dramastef and Pestyside, for being so helpful in adding titles. And since I am, to the best of my knowledge, the fourth person to reach 3000 posts on Epinions, I also have to thank Freak369, Bryan_Carey and Wlswarts for proving to me that it could be done.
Like many people across the country, I have spent the past several months bombarded with billboards announcing that the world will end today. Clearly, I didn't buy it, or I wouldn't be urging you to add several hundred books to your must-read list. So instead, I celebrate an ending of a different kind, concluding my write-off with the thought of how many wonderful stories lie in store for me and the hope that I might write a tale or two to warm someone else's mind. In the words of the enchanting Pushing Daisies, “Endings, as it is known, are where we begin.” Onward to 4000!
My Tales to Warm Your Mind Write-Off did motivate me, but instead of writing faster, I seemed to slow down, attempting instead to both write and read more deeply. As my three-month-long write-off stretched into six, I felt a more profound sense of community with some of my fellow members and allowed some of their stories to seep into my soul. My little write-off turned into a far more rewarding experience than I expected, so I certainly don’t mind that I missed my birthday by three months. Instead, I’m happy to be able to share a milestone day with my dear cyber-sister Beth, who celebrates eight years on Epinions today and can attest to the power of stories to bring people together.
1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up is an impressive but not unwieldy collection of suggestions for the avid reader and the parent of the avid reader. Each featured book has between half a page and two pages to itself, often with an illustration or two. Julia Eccleshare is listed as the general editor, and she is the one responsible for the Introduction, which comments on the children's book as a work of art and as the realm of fiction to which story is most central. She talks about the different considerations that went into compiling this list and notes how the book's format invites contemplation of the changes in style and substance that can be charted over the years. The book descriptions to be found in the 900+ pages to follow come courtesy of more than a hundred different writers, many of whom have published children's books themselves.
Aside from the preface (a charming reflection by illustrator Quentin Blake, best known for his collaborations with Roald Dahl), introduction, indexes and contributor bios, the book is divided into five sections, each of which includes a small color-coded half-circle on a designated spot on the side of the page. This makes it very easy to glance at the book and open to the desired section: red for ages 0-3, orange for 3+, yellow for 5+, green for 8+ and blue for 12+. Within each section, the books are listed in chronological order, which also makes finding things quite a bit easier. If you want to see if a particular book is included, you can consult the index of titles at the beginning of the book; the index of authors at the end is equally handy.
Each entry includes the title in large bold print, followed by the year of publication in smaller print. Below that is the name of the author, indicated by a tiny pen icon, and, if applicable, the illustrator, indicated by a tiny pencil. Below that is a small section whose contents include such info as Original Title, Nationality, Theme, Publisher and Awards. In many cases, the cover of the featured book is included; sometimes an inside illustration is chosen, and some descriptions are accompanied by a pertinent quote. Many of the pages also include a small box the same color as that section's tab listing related books. These may be suggested by virtue of having the same author or similar components. For instance, Robert Louis Stevenson's Treasure Island has a pull-out box listing “Other Great Stories of the Sea,” and Salman Rushdie's Haroun and the Sea of Stories suggests “More Fabulous Folklore”.
The main feature, however, is the book description, which is usually three or four paragraphs in length. Most of the contributors review several books and are identified by their initials at the end of the entry, but about a quarter of the writers are set apart, each reviewing just one book of particular personal significance. In these cases, a small gray tab at the top indicates who the featured reviewer is. These are especially interesting entries, since they delve into the reviewer's personal experience, whereas most books receive a more detached treatment. I love Judy Blume's reflections on Ludwig Bemelmans' Madeline, which she adored so deeply as a girl that she hid the copy she had taken out of the library, not wanting to be parted with it. “Some books you never forget,” she says. “Some characters become your friends for life.” This is most assuredly true.
Other authors with reviews of this nature include beloved author-illustrator Eric Carle, most famous for The Very Hungry Caterpillar; Newbery-winning author Jean Craighead George, whose love of nature permeates her work; and Newbery-winning Lois Lowry, whose works offer compelling commentary on the human condition. While these are wonderfully illuminating, especially for fans of that particular author, each entry in the book is well-crafted. Some of them are mostly plot summaries. Others focus upon the unusual characteristics of the illustrations or the way in which certain characters have permeated popular culture. Most entries include some mix of elements, discussing the content of the book, the historical context and the public reaction.
One thing that surprised me about this volume was how many of the books were originally written in a language other than English. This gives the book a very international flavor, and while some recommendations, like Astrid Lindgren's Pippi Longstocking and Johanna Spyri's Heidi's Wandering and Learning Years, reside on my bookshelf, I confess that the book highlights many books and authors that are entirely unfamiliar to me. Unfortunately, I have found that translated versions of most of these foreign-language books are difficult to track down, especially the ones for younger readers.
One interesting aspect of this book, which Eccleshare touches on in her introduction, is the way in which its demonstrates how the definition of what constitutes children's literature has changed over the years. Many of the books here, particularly those written prior to the 20th century, were not originally written specifically for children, but they have come to be thought of primarily as children's literature, or at least as appropriate for children as older readers. Examples of this include Aesop's Fables, the oldest entry in the collection; Johann Wyss's The Swiss Family Robinson; Alexandre Dumas's The Three Musketeers and Nathaniel Hawthorne's The Scarlet Letter. I was a little surprised at some of the books that were designated as children's lit, particularly in the 12+ section; then again, many of these books are staples of high school reading, so they certainly are appropriate for teenagers even if they were written with more of an adult audience in mind.
The smallest section by far is the 0-3 category, which is only about 40 pages long. Selections in this section include Make Way for Ducklings, the Robert McCloskey classic that inspired a whimsical series of statues that I had the pleasure of seeing up-close in Boston, and that perpetually popular tale of encouragement, Watty Piper's The Little Engine That Could. Among the books I sought out as a result of this section are Pat Hutchins' Rosie's Walk, a funny retro tale about an oblivious chicken who unwittingly thwarts a hungry fox, and David McKee's Elmer, a charming story about a multi-colored elephant.
The 3+ section is considerably longer at nearly 120 pages. Here's where we start to meet some of my really formative characters, like Winnie-the-Pooh - though I'll confess I first met the Silly Old Bear through Disney and didn't become well acquainted with the Milne version until years later – and, while we're on the subject of bears, Paddington and the Berenstain Bears. This is also the place to look for the works of childhood staple Dr. Seuss and the brilliantly minimalist Mo Willems. Speaking of minimalism, I have this section to thank for my discovery of Leo Lionni's touching Little Blue and Little Yellow, as well as the urban sprawl saga of Virginia Lee Burton's The Little House.
The 5+ section is longer still at about 200 pages, and some truly wondrous picture books grace this portion of the collection. However, because this is a slightly older age bracket, this is where we start to see chapter books, as well as poetry collections by Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky. Some of the giants of Easy Readerdom are here, including Cynthia Rylant and Arnold Lobel. While I would recommend the irresistible Mr. Putter and Tabby over Henry and Mudge, the latter is probably Rylant's most popular series, so I understand its inclusion. I also agree wholeheartedly with Frog and Toad as Lobel's ideal representatives. Few fictional friendships have amused or moved me more. Irrepressible Ramona Quimby, to whom I'm afraid I related quite a bit as a rambunctious young'un, makes an appearance here too. Meanwhile, this section led me to David Shannon's A Bad Case of Stripes and Jen Wojtowicz's The Boy Who Grew Flowers, both of which deal with the struggles inherent in standing out from the crowd in a classroom setting.
The largest section in the book is the 8+ group, which stretches for more than 400 pages. This is where you will find J. R. R. Tolkien's The Hobbit, the first novel that was ever read to me and the one that furnished my quote to live by: “You are a very fine person, Mr. Baggins, and I am very fond of you; but you are only quite a little fellow in a wide world, after all!” It's the home of L. M. Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables, the book whose eloquent heroine I adored as long as she wasn't wrongly reaming out her admiring classmate Gilbert. This book introduced me to the gentle Matthew Cuthbert, the literary character who reminds me most of my late grandpa, and it taught me the term “kindred spirit,” which instantly joined my lexicon as a phrase to denote a cherished friend whose tastes and temperament are remarkably similar to one's own. Then, of course, there is J. K. Rowling's Harry Potter series, which took me through college and beyond and solidified several friendships. Moreover, up to that point, the publication of the final volume was perhaps the most significant pop cultural milestone of my life. The Chronicles of Narnia, A Series of Unfortunate Events, Bridge to Terabithia, Where the Red Fern Grows and many other novels that riveted me all make the cut here, and many of the books in this section are ones that plenty of adults have read for pleasure on their own.
I'm a little surprised that the 12+ section isn't even longer, since this is essentially the Young Adult portion and so many of the books here are really just adult novels. However, it does seem that as a separate division, the young adult designation is a rather recent phenomenon, so while we're getting plenty of adult crossover, there aren't a lot of books that started out in this niche. Those that do include Stephenie Meyer's Twilight series and Louis Sachar's Holes. Considering its length, I didn't expect to find Tolkien's Lord of the Rings listed, but it's here, though the description rather makes me suspect that whoever was assigned this epic never actually read it. (Frodo is described as an “unwilling hero” who saves Middle-earth “by first gaining and then safely returning the magical ring, which makes its bearer all-powerful, to its true home deep in the mountains.” (Ah, yes, that cozy reunion between Sauron and his beloved ring. And oh, the lengths that stubborn scallywag Frodo had to go to in order to gain this treasure in the first place!)
Out of curiosity, before I sat down to write this review, I went through the book and jotted down all of the titles that I had read. Rather to my disgruntlement, it was only one-fifth of the 1001 titles. I still have a lot of catching up to do! Of course, even with all those books, any avid reader will no doubt be able to point out omissions of their own favorites. For instance, the prolific Mercer Mayer, best known for his expansive line of Little Critter books, doesn't show up at all, nor does author-illustrator Jan Brett, notable for her richly artistic folktales with detailed borders around each page. As someone who has happily gobbled up the first 15 books in the Trixie Belden series since January, I'm miffed that while Nancy Drew merits a mention, the Bob-Whites of the Glen do not. However, a majority of the authors whose work I've enjoyed show up somewhere in the book, and if you're stumped for new things to read, this collection can offer some excellent recommendations.
Beloved books come to us in all sorts of different ways, from catching our eye on the shelf of a bookstore or library to being praised by a respected friend. This collection is yet another avenue. If you are looking for some interesting new books for the children in your life, you're sure to find some sterling stories if you peruse the pages of 1001 Children's Books You Must Read Before You Grow Up. But bear in mind that these books are not exclusively for children. To quote C. S. Lewis, “When I was ten, I read fairy tales in secret and would have been ashamed if I had been found doing so. Now that I am fifty I read them openly. When I became a man I put away childish things, including the fear of childishness and the desire to be very grown up.” For readers of all ages who are not embarrassed to get swept away by a powerful story, this guide is a treasure trove.
******************************************************
I joined Epinions back in January of 2000 while searching for a place to write book reviews online. I was looking for a creative outlet and a bit of cash, and I found both. I wrote eagerly in the beginning, but most of my efforts were rather hurried and haphazard. It took a year or two before I really got the knack of reviewing, and it's a continuing learning process. Gradually coming out of my shell and interacting more with other members beyond just posting my reviews has made Epinions that much more rewarding and motivated me to write more often and more artfully. I've read the work of dozens of talented reviewers and traded comments with many of them; I can't begin to list them all here, but a few members merit a special mention...
Sleeper54 – Thank you, Tom, for all of your considerate comments and emails over the years. The niggles have improved plenty of reviews, and the compliments are deeply appreciated.
Jedikermit – Thank you, Quinn, for being my go-to person for all things Muppet.
Dragonfire88 – Thank you, Marie, for so many great geeky comment exchanges.
GaelKM – Thank you, Gael, for basking with me in the love of all things Irish.
Mql1208 – Thank you, Megan, for your invigorating thoughts on some of my favorite off-beat movies.
Popsrocks – Thank you, Phil, for your omnipresent optimism even in the most challenging circumstances.
Talyseon – Thank you, Mark, for pouring such passion into everything you undertake.
Toiletoctopus – Thank you, Mike, for your inspiring example of how to carry on a loved one's legacy.
Texas-Swede – Thank you, Thomas, fellow Swedish American, for your consistent courtesy and enthusiasm.
Bethesdalily – Thank you, Nicole, for the sense of joy and serenity that envelops me when I read your reviews and comments. With the eyes of your soul, you see the world more clearly than most people I know.
Imagine_Stars – Thank you, Shar, for the feast of words I've come to expect whenever I read your reviews. You write with such conviction and humor, and your comments are among the most thoughtful I've ever received.
Carstairs38 – Thank you, Mark, for just being you. You are a true kindred spirit whose warmth and wit have brightened many a day, and my life is so much richer because I know you.
Befus - Thank you, Beth, for being the best "big sis" a gal could ask for. You bring out the best in me as a writer and a person, and I feel blessed to call you my friend.
Since this review signals the conclusion of my Tales to Warm Your Mind Write-Off, I would also like to take a moment to thank everyone who participated, especially Mark and Thomas, who contributed so prolifically. I am also grateful to the Category Leads, especially Book Leads Dramastef and Pestyside, for being so helpful in adding titles. And since I am, to the best of my knowledge, the fourth person to reach 3000 posts on Epinions, I also have to thank Freak369, Bryan_Carey and Wlswarts for proving to me that it could be done.
Like many people across the country, I have spent the past several months bombarded with billboards announcing that the world will end today. Clearly, I didn't buy it, or I wouldn't be urging you to add several hundred books to your must-read list. So instead, I celebrate an ending of a different kind, concluding my write-off with the thought of how many wonderful stories lie in store for me and the hope that I might write a tale or two to warm someone else's mind. In the words of the enchanting Pushing Daisies, “Endings, as it is known, are where we begin.” Onward to 4000!
Labels:
~ Children's Books,
~~ Books,
Beth,
Eric Carle,
Irish Rovers,
Jean Craighead George,
Julia Eccleshare,
Lois Lowry,
Lord of the Rings,
Mo Willems,
Quentin Blake,
Robert McCloskey,
Winnie the Pooh
Thursday, May 12, 2011
Trixie Has Trauma and Dad Has a Headache in Mo Willems' Knuffle Bunny
When I was a wee one, I had a small stuffed sea lion named Seymour that I
got as a souvenir from Sea World. I loved that little pinniped, and I
took him everywhere, wanting him to experience all of the excitement of
life right along with me. One time, when we were on a car trip, I
decided to dangle him out the window so he could feel the fresh air
zooming past his whiskery face. My grip was not the greatest. By the
time the shock wore off and I hollered that we had a sea lion down, poor
Seymour was miles behind us. We tried going back to find him, but he
was nowhere to be seen. Needless to say, it was a rather traumatic
event.
In Mo Willems’ Knuffle Bunny, a Caldecott Honor book and first in a series of three starring a young girl and her battered plush bunny, Trixie faces a similar crisis. Thankfully, she does not lob her beloved bunny out of a car doing 60 on the highway, but she does manage to leave him behind in a most inconvenient (and high-traffic) place: the Laundromat. What’s worse is that Trixie has not mastered the art of human speech yet, so when she tries to alert her father to the terrible situation, all he hears is a cranky toddler in dire need of a nap. What’s a poor lass separated from her best friend in the world to do?
Knuffle Bunny is a cute story whose impact increases when one sees it as the first of three tales, which chart Trixie’s growth into a girl who may be in her double digits – or nearing them, anyway – but still has a hard time holding on to her favorite toy. Her early life is punctuated by three major bunny-losing incidents, and one wonders how many others might have occurred in between. It’s comical but heart-wrenching as well, since when you’re that age, few things seem more tragic than losing your most beloved stuffed plaything. In the same way that Pixar’s Toy Story trilogy touched a nerve with kids and especially those who remember what it was like to be a kid, Willems is tapping into something pretty universal here.
While many of Willems’ books, including the Pigeon series and the Elephant and Piggie books, feature anthropomorphic animals, Knuffle Bunny never speaks. He simply rests in Trixie’s arms or flops around in the washing machine, big white eyes staring blankly out at the world. He has an endearingly frumpy quality reminiscent of the Velveteen Rabbit at his most loved, but this is not really his story. It’s Trixie’s, and maybe even more than that – at least in this first book – it’s her parents’ story as they react to the crisis. Mostly, we see Dad, with his bright orange hair, thick glasses, and indulgent smile that fades into a grimace as Trixie goes ballistic over her abandoned bunny. Aside from waving her family off at the beginning, Mom only comes in toward the end, and the two-page spread depicting her greeting to her weary husband and devastated daughter is perhaps the funniest moment in the book.
Trixie, Knuffle Bunny and her parents are drawn in a flat, cartoonish style with bright colors, and any other people they pass have a similar look to them. Meanwhile, the backgrounds are all black and white photography, which gives the book an unusual look and increases the realism. It’s easier to see what a likely scenario this is when you’re looking at real places. It’s also fun to try to read the writing in the photographs, particularly the dire warning In the Laundromat: “Not Responsible for Clothing or Any Other Articles Left on Premises”. The story is written with simple language and large kid-print letters against a sea foam background. Most sentences are pretty basic, though some of them stretch across several pages, and Willems makes some of the dialogue pop out more by placing it in dialogue bubbles.
Knuffle Bunny enjoyed such great success that Willems was commissioned by the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts to adapt it into a musical, and some versions of the book include a CD of the original cast recording, which features music composed by Michael Silversher and sung by Stephanie D’Abruzzo, Michael John Casey and Erika Rose. Twelve songs tell the tale, which lasts about half an hour, so obviously we’re able to delve a bit more into the characters of exuberant Trixie, her goofy, overly confident dad and her really-has-her-act-together mom.
The songs are charming, with humor and emotional appeal that should span the generations. The seventh track, Really, Really Love You, is the heart of the tale, in which Dad confesses that he doesn’t always get things right but no matter what, he loves his little girl. He gets all the funniest moments too, waffling between cocky and harried as the communication gap between him and his daughter causes him frustration. Probably the best showcase for the three together is Tricky With Trixie, the second track, which demonstrates the challenges of life with a two-year-old. In addition to the fun mini-musical, the final track on the CD features Willems reading the book to and with his daughter, the real Trixie, with his wife Cher reading Mom’s dialogue. A very sweet family effort.
While the CD is a wonderful added bonus, the greatest charm lies in the simple, stripped-down story Willems presents through the book. Knuffle Bunny is touching, funny and destined to be a classic.
In Mo Willems’ Knuffle Bunny, a Caldecott Honor book and first in a series of three starring a young girl and her battered plush bunny, Trixie faces a similar crisis. Thankfully, she does not lob her beloved bunny out of a car doing 60 on the highway, but she does manage to leave him behind in a most inconvenient (and high-traffic) place: the Laundromat. What’s worse is that Trixie has not mastered the art of human speech yet, so when she tries to alert her father to the terrible situation, all he hears is a cranky toddler in dire need of a nap. What’s a poor lass separated from her best friend in the world to do?
Knuffle Bunny is a cute story whose impact increases when one sees it as the first of three tales, which chart Trixie’s growth into a girl who may be in her double digits – or nearing them, anyway – but still has a hard time holding on to her favorite toy. Her early life is punctuated by three major bunny-losing incidents, and one wonders how many others might have occurred in between. It’s comical but heart-wrenching as well, since when you’re that age, few things seem more tragic than losing your most beloved stuffed plaything. In the same way that Pixar’s Toy Story trilogy touched a nerve with kids and especially those who remember what it was like to be a kid, Willems is tapping into something pretty universal here.
While many of Willems’ books, including the Pigeon series and the Elephant and Piggie books, feature anthropomorphic animals, Knuffle Bunny never speaks. He simply rests in Trixie’s arms or flops around in the washing machine, big white eyes staring blankly out at the world. He has an endearingly frumpy quality reminiscent of the Velveteen Rabbit at his most loved, but this is not really his story. It’s Trixie’s, and maybe even more than that – at least in this first book – it’s her parents’ story as they react to the crisis. Mostly, we see Dad, with his bright orange hair, thick glasses, and indulgent smile that fades into a grimace as Trixie goes ballistic over her abandoned bunny. Aside from waving her family off at the beginning, Mom only comes in toward the end, and the two-page spread depicting her greeting to her weary husband and devastated daughter is perhaps the funniest moment in the book.
Trixie, Knuffle Bunny and her parents are drawn in a flat, cartoonish style with bright colors, and any other people they pass have a similar look to them. Meanwhile, the backgrounds are all black and white photography, which gives the book an unusual look and increases the realism. It’s easier to see what a likely scenario this is when you’re looking at real places. It’s also fun to try to read the writing in the photographs, particularly the dire warning In the Laundromat: “Not Responsible for Clothing or Any Other Articles Left on Premises”. The story is written with simple language and large kid-print letters against a sea foam background. Most sentences are pretty basic, though some of them stretch across several pages, and Willems makes some of the dialogue pop out more by placing it in dialogue bubbles.
Knuffle Bunny enjoyed such great success that Willems was commissioned by the John F. Kennedy Center for the Performing Arts to adapt it into a musical, and some versions of the book include a CD of the original cast recording, which features music composed by Michael Silversher and sung by Stephanie D’Abruzzo, Michael John Casey and Erika Rose. Twelve songs tell the tale, which lasts about half an hour, so obviously we’re able to delve a bit more into the characters of exuberant Trixie, her goofy, overly confident dad and her really-has-her-act-together mom.
The songs are charming, with humor and emotional appeal that should span the generations. The seventh track, Really, Really Love You, is the heart of the tale, in which Dad confesses that he doesn’t always get things right but no matter what, he loves his little girl. He gets all the funniest moments too, waffling between cocky and harried as the communication gap between him and his daughter causes him frustration. Probably the best showcase for the three together is Tricky With Trixie, the second track, which demonstrates the challenges of life with a two-year-old. In addition to the fun mini-musical, the final track on the CD features Willems reading the book to and with his daughter, the real Trixie, with his wife Cher reading Mom’s dialogue. A very sweet family effort.
While the CD is a wonderful added bonus, the greatest charm lies in the simple, stripped-down story Willems presents through the book. Knuffle Bunny is touching, funny and destined to be a classic.
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