REVIEW: Pinocchio by Carlo Collodi

pinocchioFormat:  Paperback (Puffin Classic)
Genre:  Classic Children’s Lit
Published:  1972

Rating:  4 out of 5 stars

Back of the Book Blurb:

The old wood-carver Gepetto decides to make a wonderful puppet which can dance and turn somersaults, but by chance he chooses an unusual piece of wood – and the finished puppet can talk and misbehave like the liveliest child. But Pinocchio is brave and inquisitive as well as naughty, and after some hair-raising adventures, he earns his heart’s desire.

My Thoughts:

This is definitely not your Disney Pinocchio, and thank goodness for that, because it is a better and more complex story than Disney’s version. Interestingly, I did not know until reading Carlo Collodi’s book that Pinocchio did not come alive after he was created, but rather as Gepetto was creating him, and it was due to the wood he was carved from, not from Gepetto’s love (or whatever Disney attributed his “life” to). He was much worse than I knew him to be from the stories I read up to now. Sure, he lies, and his nose grows when he lies. But that is not the first negative character trait, nor the worse. He is selfish, self-centered, rude, shallow, irresponsible, gullible, inconsistent, and lazy. As a result, he constantly finds himself in trouble, and often in grave danger, such that he is nearly always at the mercy of a kind stranger to help him out of his jam, which they are often convinced to do because he showers them with promises that he will now be a better boy.

His only redeeming character trait is that he does seem to love Gepetto (his father), and feel genuine affection for different individuals he encounters throughout the book. I think it is this affection that drives his promises to be good, as he really does want someone to be proud of him. But because he is shallow and self-centered, he always forgets, and ends up right back in trouble again.

It is gratifying, though, to see him gradually come to a true understanding of what it takes to be “real,” and therein lies the best reason for teaching this book in school. It addresses virtuous behavior…honesty, kindness, helpfulness, good citizenship, wisdom, caring for others more than oneself…and showing that it is only when Pinocchio’s heart changes that he becomes a real boy. These are not shallow lessons, and it’s a fairly brilliant way to teach not only virtues, but to live by the golden rule.

REVIEW: Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes by Eleanor Coerr

EPSON scanner imageFormat:  Paperback
Genre:  Children’s Lit
ISBN:  978-0-14-240113-2
Published:  1977

Rating:  4 out of 5 stars

Back of the Book Blurb:

The star of her school’s running team, Sadako is lively and athletic…until the dizzy spells start. Then she must face the hardest race of her life—the race against time. Based on a true story, Sadako and the Thousand Paper Cranes celebrates the courage that makes one young woman a heroine in Japan.

My Thoughts:

I liked this book a lot. I think the author did a really good job of dealing sensitively with the death of a child, in a way that was accessible to children. I liked that it is based on a true story, because it gives an opportunity for further conversations about the realities of war, of terminal illness, and of living with hope in the face of impossible odds. Finally, I liked that this girl was spirited and determined, that she worked hard, and that she persevered in the face of difficulty. These are such good lessons for kids to learn, and reading of someone their age, who did all of those things under increasingly dire circumstances, is inspiring to kids and adults alike.

REVIEW: The Fantastic Flying Books of Mr. Morris Lessmore by William Joyce

fantastic flying booksFormat:  Hardback
Genre:  Children’s Fiction
ISBN:  978-1442457027
Published:  2012

Rating:  5 out of 5 stars

Back of the Book Blurb:

Morris Lessmore loved words.
He loved stories.
He loved books.
But every story has its upsets.

Everything in Morris Lessmore’s life, including his own story, is scattered to the winds.
But the power of story will save the day.

My Thoughts:

I got this on a recommendation from a friend, and I LOVED it. What a lovely way to illustrate a lifelong love of reading, not only with a story (that I confess made me a little teary), but also through the beautiful illustrations. I also appreciated the whimsical (but not flippant) way that the author deals with Morris Lessmore’s death, and how we immediately return to the library and see not only the legacy that he left (his story), but how it will live on as more children, through his book and others, discover the magic of reading for themselves.

REVIEW: Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White

charlotte's webFormat:  Paperback
Genre:  Children’s Lit
ISBN:  978-0-06-440055-8
Published:  1952

Rating:  4 out of 5 stars

Back of the Book Blurb:

Some Pig

These are the words in Charlotte’s web, high in the barn. Her spiderweb tells of her feelings for a little pig named Wilbur, as well as the feelings of a little girl named Fern … who loves Wilbur, too.  Their love has been shared by millions of readers.

My Thoughts:

I figured I should go ahead and read the entire book, since my 9yo son as done so, and I had only read excerpts here and there. I enjoyed the story a lot, and it is easy to see why kids love it. It’s well written, has a great story line (with talking animals!), and it ends on a positive note even as Charlotte dies.

There are books I missed out on as a child (and read as an adult) that make me wish I had experienced them as a child. This is one of those books, and it makes me glad that my son has not missed out.

Top Ten “Gateway” Books/Authors in My Reading Journey

Top Ten Tuesday is an original feature/weekly meme created at The Broke and the Bookish. This feature was created because they are particularly fond of lists at The Broke and the Bookish. They love to share their lists with other bookish folks and would LOVE to see your top ten lists!

Each week they will post a new Top Ten list  that one (or more) of their bloggers at The Broke and the Bookish will answer. Everyone is welcome to join. All they ask is that you link back to The Broke and the Bookish on your own Top Ten Tuesday post AND add your name to the Linky widget so that everyone can check out other bloggers lists! If you don’t have a blog, just post your answers as a comment. Have fun with it! It’s a fun way to get to know your fellow bloggers.

All of us readers have those books that really started us on our way to becoming book lovers. It could be something we read as young children, or it could be a book we picked up in adulthood after years of a reading drought. Or, it could be an author or book that introduced us to a new favorite genre. This week’s Top Ten Tuesday puts a spotlight on those books and authors that we credit with our bookishness.

These are my Top Ten…ok, Top Fifteen… “Gateway” Books/Authors (in somewhat random order):

  1. My Bible Friends – Etta B. Degering
  2. Uncle Arthur’s Bedtime Stories – Arthur S. Maxwell
  3. The Ugly Duckling – Hans Christian Andersen
  4. A Girl Called Tommie, A Nurse Called Tommie, A Wife Called Tommie – Thelma G. Norman
  5. Little House in the Big Woods (Little House #1) – Laura Ingalls Wilder
  6. My Sister Mike – Amelia Elizabeth Walden
  7. The Witch of Blackbird Pond – Elizabeth George Speare
  8. Now – Merikay McLeod
  9. A Little Princess, The Secret Garden -Frances Hodgeson Burnett
  10. Unblessed – Berneice Lunday
  11. Unleashed – Leon Orr
  12. Little Women – Louisa May Alcott
  13. Johnny Tremain – Esther Forbes
  14. Nancy Drew Mysteries – Carolyn Keene
  15. Biographies of everyone from George Washington & Thomas Jefferson to Paul Revere, Louis Pasteur, Marie Curie, Amelia Earhart, George Washington Carver…you name it, I read it.

Amazing that a list like this does not include The Chronicles of Narnia, anything by Dr. Seuss, no Maurice Sendak, barely anything in the traditional canon of children’s literature.  I am thankful that The Witch of Blackbird Pond made it into my hands, as it was one of my few reading experiences outside the narrow sphere of denominational sanctioning (as a young adolescent, anyway), and it lit a spark.

RIP Maurice Sendak (1928-2012) – The Telegraph

Maurice Sendak Obituary published at The Telegraph

Maurice Sendak, who has died aged 83, was an author and illustrator whose books – notably Where the Wild Things Are – kicked in the doors of the cosy, protected nursery world and ushered in the dark, dangerous and frequently rebellious; as a result they have proved fantastically popular with children.

He contributed to more than 80 books, but it was Where the Wild Things Are,   which has sold more than 10 million copies worldwide since its publication   in 1963, that brought him international recognition. At the time, to   Sendak’s irritation and surprise, the story provoked a collective gasp of   disapproval from parents, teachers and child experts. Not only did the young   hero, Max, yell at his mother, but the pages were also populated by hideous   monsters that grown-ups felt sure would terrify young readers.

If they were terrified, they were also rapt, and critical opinion was quick to   follow the admiration of the title’s intended audience; in 1964 Sendak was   awarded the Caldecott Medal for “the most distinguished American picture   book”. Where the Wild Things Are continues to outsell all his other work and   has been translated into 13 languages, including Afrikaans.

If parents secretly hoped that Establishment recognition would encourage   Sendak to pursue more conservative themes in subsequent creations, they were   to be disappointed. His second picture book, In the Night Kitchen (1970),   featured a naked boy, Mickey, tumbling into a bowl of cake batter, and was   seen as an allegory of child sexuality. Libraries around America are still   lending copies with nappies pasted over the four year-old’s offending nudity   and Sendak became used to accusations of probing latent Freudian fears. But,   once again, adults were far more alarmed than children.

Sendak’s obsession with childhood had been fuelled by going into therapy. He   felt that the traditional portrayal of childhood was inaccurate, and he   sought openly to confront children’s everyday fears and frustrations. How   they master these fears through fantasy is a theme of all his work. For   inspiration he drew simply on his own memories of being a child; as a result   even the wide faces and protuberant eyes of his fictional children are   recognisably Sendak’s own.

Maurice Bernard Sendak was born in Brooklyn on June 10 1928, the same year as   one of his major influences, Mickey Mouse. He was the third and youngest   child of poor Polish-Jewish immigrants. His father, Philip, ran a   dressmaking business which was hit by the Depression, and Sendak’s childhood   was further blighted by ill health which instilled a terror of dying that   haunted him throughout his life.

One of his earliest memories was, aged four, hearing news of the kidnapping   and murder of the infant son of the aviator Charles Lindbergh – a case that   gripped America. In a recent documentary, Sendak described seeing a   photograph of the dead baby in a newspaper, an experience which powerfully   disabused him of the notion that childhood was a fortress unbreachable by   the evils outside.

As a sickly child, he spent much time at home, watching and sketching the   world from his window. His loathing of school, where he was branded a sissy,   encouraged him to observe rather than participate. Greatly influenced by the   tales his father would improvise from the Old Testament and Jewish folklore,   he was conscious, from an early age, of gathering material for his own   stories.

He attended Lafayette High School where, though an indifferent scholar, he was   considered a talented artist. His first commission was to illustrate his   science teacher’s guide to nuclear physics, Atomics for the Millions.

It was in 1951, when Sendak was working as a window-dresser in the toy shop   FAO Schwarz, that he first encountered the work of the great children’s book   illustrators and was introduced to Ursula Nordstrom, the children’s book   editor at Harper Brothers. After seeing his sketches, she commissioned him   to illustrate The Wonderful Farm by Michel Aymé. Over the next decade she   shaped his career, and during this time he illustrated more than 40 books.   He had his first major success with A Hole to Dig, a book in which the   author Ruth Krauss had collected children’s own definitions of words (“A   hand is to hold up when you want your turn”).

Some of his most memorable illustration work of this period can be found in   Else Minarik’s “Little Bear” series. But its reassuring forest atmosphere   was in direct contrast to the direction his own writing would take. This   became clear in the miniature Nutshell Library (1962), a boxed set of four   tiny volumes, the last of which, Pierre, is centred around an archetypal   Sendak anti-hero (to every situation Pierre replies: “I don’t care!”). The   publications brought success and elevated Sendak’s reputation to the point   that one critic proclaimed him “the Picasso of children’s books”.

During these years Sendak emulated the works of master illustrators to expand   his repertoire. He was particularly influenced by English Victorian artists   (notably Arthur Hughes and Randolph Caldecott). Though he later acknowledged   his debt to American popular art, particularly cartoons and comics, his   emerging style was quite unlike the bright, abstract work of contemporary   American illustrators. Largely self-taught, he remained firmly tied to   European 18th- and 19th-century traditions, with subdued wash colours and   careful line-work and cross-hatching reminiscent of wood engravings.

His first book as author and illustrator had been Kenny’s Window (1956). But   it was not until his fourth, Where the Wild Things Are, that Sendak   successfully managed to communicate his private vision of childhood. For   Sendak its success was a double boon. On top of the acclaim, it also earned   him the financial freedom thereafter to pursue projects of his own choosing.   These included illustrating various Randall Jarrell books; reissuing George   Macdonald stories; and developing other picture-books of his own, such as   Hector Protector (1965).

But just when everything appeared to be going well he suffered, in 1967, the   worst year of his life. While on a trip to England he was struck by a heart   attack; meanwhile Jennie, his beloved Sealyham terrier and “best friend”,   died. His longest book, Higglety Pigglety Pop, published later that year, is   a meticulously crafted tribute to her and was later adapted for an opera at   Glyndebourne.

By contrast, In the Night Kitchen (the second of a trilogy which had begun   with Where the Wild Things Are) was, with its bold comic book style and   Oliver Hardy trio of bakers, by far his most cheerful book to date.

The Juniper Tree, a collection of Grimm fairy tales, translated by Lore Segal,   was published in 1973. For these illustrations Sendak received a second   Caldecott Medal, a rare honour which paid tribute to his versatility and   unrivalled consistency as an artist.

But it was his trilogy’s final work, Outside Over There (1981), a surreal tale   about sibling rivalry, that Sendak considered his masterpiece. The story, in   which a young girl called Ida, resentful of her baby sister, allows the   infant to be carried off by goblins, again tapped effortlessly into the   hopes and fears of children.

He then took a break from publishing children’s books and, instead, pursued a   highly successful career as a theatrical designer. Sendak had always loved   music and used to say that, given the choice, he would have been a composer.   He was quick to accept the stage director Frank Cosaro’s invitation to   design The Magic Flute for the Houston Opera (1981), and proceeded to design   at opera houses across America. He worked (again with Frank Cosaro) on a   Glyndebourne production of Prokofiev’s L’Amour des Trois Oranges (1982) and,   with Oliver Knussen, on a double-bill of Where the Wild Things Are and   Higglety Pigglety Pop which was staged in 1984. He returned to Glyndebourne   in 1987 to design sets and costumes for Ravel’s L’Enfant et les sortilèges   and L’heure Espagnole.

Following this opera work, Sendak embarked on various new projects. In 1988 he   was appointed artistic director of Robert Redford’s Sundance children’s   theatre in Utah, and in 1992 he founded a children’s theatre in New York   called The Night Kitchen. That year he illustrated Iona and Peter Opie’s   collection of rhymes, I Saw Esau, the first book by another author he had   illustrated since the 1960s, and the first of his books to be published in   Britain before the United States.

His recent books include Mommy? (2006) – the only pop-up work in his catalogue   – and, last September, Bumble-Ardy. Typically subversive, the latter   features the plans of a young pig to throw a raucous party while his aunt is   away. Inevitably the party gets out of hand, but that, Sendak suggests, is a   far better fate than the alternative. “Bumble-Ardy had no party when he   turned one (his immediate family frowned on fun),” the book explains. His   parents, who deny Bumble-Ardy his birthday treats, find themselves being   eaten. A film of Where The Wild Things Are was released in 2009.

Sendak was passionate about most things in life, whether wildly enthusing   about a favourite book or morbidly railing against the world. But he   confessed that he was essentially a glum, cynical character. His friends   accordingly dubbed him “morose Sendak”, and unsuspecting strangers could get   a shock. When one peppery old lady remarked about Where the Wild Things Are:   “I wouldn’t have it in my bedroom at night,” Sendak snapped back: “Lady, you   wouldn’t have anything in your room at night.”

Such pithy (and frequently self-deprecating) remarks made him a highly   entertaining lecturer in the time, during the 1970s, that he spent teaching   at Yale and the Parsons School of Design. Although he could be intolerant   and uncharitable to colleagues, students and younger illustrators frequently   saluted his kindness and generosity.

Sendak described himself as “the tiresome child who had to get his homework   done”, but he was only truly happy when creatively stimulated. Always   something of an outsider, he did not seek out, or appear to need, company.   Although he had a handful of good friends, he lived by himself in the depths   of Connecticut. Never trusting himself to be a good parent, dogs provided a   substitute. On one occasion, he cancelled all his business appointments for   a fortnight when one of them was due to have puppies.

In 1970 Maurice Sendak became the first American to receive the Hans Christian   Andersen Award, the highest accolade in children’s literature. He remarked,   characteristically, that it should be renamed the “Hans Jewish Andersen”   award.

He was unmarried. An illustrated poem, My Brother’s Book, inspired by his love   for his late brother, Jack, is to be published next year.

Maurice Sendak, born June 10 1928, died May 8 2012

Read this and more at The Telegraph

REVIEW: Mr. Popper’s Penguins by Richard & Florence Atwater

Format:  Hardback
Genre:  Children’s Fiction
ISBN:  0316o58424
Published:  1938
Setting:  Stillwater, US

Rating:  4 of 5 stars

Back of the Book Blurb:

It was hard enough for Mr. Popper to support himself, Mrs. Popper, Bill and Janie Popper.  The addition of twelve penguins to the family made it impossible to make both ends meet.  Then Mr. Popper had a splendid idea.  The penguins might support the Poppers.  And so they did.

My Thoughts:

**spoiler alert**

This was a very cute book, right up to the end.  I loved that Mr. Popper ultimately tried to do what was best for the penguins, but it annoyed me somewhat that he left his family.  I would have enjoyed the ending more if they had been able to choose whether or not to go, or at the very least, he had been able to discuss it with Mrs. Popper.  I get that it’s a children’s book, but the idea of them discussing everything up to that point regarding the penguins, then having him decide in the split second between learning that Admiral Drake intended for him to go and actually setting sail seemed completely counter to how their relationship worked.  I’m probably putting a lot more thought into the story than kids would, but little details like that make or break good books, and in this case, what otherwise would be a 5-star classic is, instead, somewhat wanting.