September 16, 2013
Down with Princessery!
(This piece is cross-posted at Bunch)
With the end of summer, the kids have come home from fishing down at the proverbial crawdad hole, and are now settling back into gender roles as dictated by toy marketers, because let’s face it: our boys will be boys and our girls will be princesses.
But not so fast…
Listen, I’ve read my Peggy Orenstein, and I’ve got an opinion or two about the effects of “princess culture” on boys and girls alike. And so since before my daughter was born, I’ve been unabashedly brainwashing her with my own politics, a plan that has been foolproof so far*. A parent has to have a weapon or two in her bag to use against the big bad world, and these are the ones that have worked for me, but have also served as great reads at the very same time.
Wonder Woman: The Story of the Amazon Princess by Ralph Cosentino: Wonder Woman is the third of Cosentino’s manga-style picture book introductions to classic comics. He tells the story of Diana, the Amazon princess who didn’t want to be just a princess, and chose to spend her life fighting for justice instead. My daughter remains curious about why Wonder Woman has to battle the forces of evil in her underpants, but as princess role models go, you could do worse than this one.
The Princess Knight by Cornelia Funke and Kerstin Meyer: Princess Violetta is raised in the same fashion as her big brothers, although they laugh at her futile efforts to mount a horse while wearing heavy armour. This makes her all the more determined to prove herself as brave and strong, so she begins sneaking out after dark and practicing a knight’s skills in her own way. She eventually becomes so adept that she ends up winning her own hand in marriage (long story) and thus is granted the independence she desires.
Sir Cassie to the Rescue by Linda Smith and Karen Patkau: “Cassie read a story about knights…” this book begins, and when she finishes reading, Cassie tries to cajole her brother into a game of knights. Just one problem: neither of them is interested in being the damsel in distress. After trying out other options, and constructing a variety of marvelous castles in the living room, Cassie and her brother come up with an ingenious solution to their problem. And then Cassie opens a book about pirates, and her imagination starts running wild again…
Olivia and the Fairy Princesses by Ian Falconer: At first glace, it looks like a Princess book, complete with tiara, magic wand and Olivia’s name in pretty pink. But a close look at Olivia’s facial expression reveals that this book will be an examination rather than a celebration of princess culture. Falconer is shameless in his anti-princess agenda, but the story is still funny for kids, and poses questions worth asking your sons and daughters: why are princesses so lacking in cultural diversity? And “If everyone’s a princess, then princesses aren’t special anymore… Why do they all want to be the same?”
The Paper Bag Princess by Robert Munsch and Michael Martchenko: I know you’ve read this one already, but it’s still so good after all these years. Standout lines are, “You look like a real prince but you are a bum” and the best and most genre-defying conclusion of any book ever: “They didn’t get married after all.” Final image is the spirited princess dancing off into the sunset, kicking up her heels, arms embracing the world.
Princess Smarty Pants by Babette Cole: “Princess Smartypants did not want to get married. She enjoyed being a Ms.” In order to deal with the annoying throngs of suitors turning up at her door, she sets impossible tasks that defeat every one of them—until Prince Swashbuckle arrives. He manages to jump through every hoop she throws him, proving himself quite up to the job of winning her hand except for one thing: Prince Swashbuckle doesn’t think that Princess Smartypants is so smart. And it’s too bad for him: Smartypants turns him into a toad. Obviously, they didn’t get married after all either.
And finally, someone needs to write a picture book about The Cockfighting Princess. Irina Walker, the third daughter of the exiled King of Romania, has been charged with running illegal cockfighting events in Oregon, even selling refreshments to spectators. This serves as a most important lesson for little girls everywhere: even cockfighting princesses are not above the law. And that princessing and glamour do not always go hand and hand.
*I know, I know. This is going to backfire at some point. But in the meantime, I want to provide my girl with a foundation that underscores the limitlessness to who she might possibly become as a human being.
September 15, 2013
We met Sheree Fitch. And that’s the least of it…
They didn’t have Sheree Fitch when I was a little girl. But when Harriet was very small, someone gave us a copy of her board book Kisses Kisses Baby-O, and we loved it, its rhyme and rhythm, its simplicity and lovingness. Not long after, I learned that Sheree Fitch had written a novel for adults, called Kiss the Joy as It Flies; I read it for a few days in darkest January, and I remember how it lit up my life.
I think we got Peek a Little Boo sometime after that, which fast became a favourite. Harriet loved the baby faces, we loved the song, and we changed the words so they said her name (“Amazing Harriet, how do you do? Happy Harriet, huggle-wuggle you!”) to hold her attention extra-fast.
Around this time, Mabel Murple was being re-issued, which was immediately beloved and resulted in Harriet’s favourite colour being purple for some time (and the purple house on Brunswick Avenue is called “Mabel Murple’s house” still). We read this book regularly, as recently as last night, and also spend a lot of time talking about it and speculating about its extraneous story (like the shadow of Mabel’s mother which is visible on one page as Mabel gets in purple trouble).
We got Sleeping Dragons All Around, and while Harriet went through a period where she found it “too scary”, that was only temporary. She loves all things dragonish these days, and so the book is a favourite (and I would like to hang a plaque on my wall that says, “We dance in the kitchen! We don’t do the dishes”). Was Monkeys in My Kitchen next? I think so. We love that one too.
I had become online friends with Sheree by this point. (I interviewed her in 2010, and had also read her beautiful collection of poetry for adults, In this house are many women.) We were the lucky recipients of Night Sky Wheel Ride, which arrived in the post on Harriet’s third birthday. I remember literally dropping everything and sitting down to read it with her on our front step, and being amazed by it. “Can you hear the mermaids murmur/beluga whales sing/ feel the whirling stir/ of every little humming phosphorescent thing?” That line blows my mind every time I read it, which is often. Recently, we got If I Had A Million Onions, which is wonderful.
I am laying this all out to illustrate how Sheree Fitch has been a huge part of our family for Harriet’s entire life, which hasn’t been a long life (yet) but still an entire one (so far) which is not insignificant. In fact, Sheree Fitch is one of the things I kept in my pocket as we knew that Iris was coming, one of the parental things we’d have about immediately this time and which would make this babyhood oh so much better that it would be in a Fitchless world.
I am laying this all out because today something extraordinary happened: we met Sheree Fitch! We went to the Eden Mills Festival, which was lacking in sun but otherwise really lovely, and rain very nearly held off too. I managed to catch Saleema Nawaz reading after I had my lunch, but otherwise spent the afternoon in the kids’ area, partly because crying babies are better tolerated there, and also because the readers were wonderful–Aubrey Davis was a particular highlight.
But then. Sheree Fitch. Dressed in purple (naturally). Who actually stole my crying baby and calmed her down while the rest of our family listened to readings. Sheree Fitch. In real life!! It was like meeting a rock star. Oh, I was so thrilled, but this was only the beginning.
I took Iris back while Sheree took the stage to read Mabel Murple. And somehow, Harriet was standing beside her. Sheree began to read, and Harriet read along with her, the whole book memorized, finishing sentences, particularly emphatic upon her favourites: “I’m a purple person and I roar away my troubles!” “Skateboard scallywag, Mabel Murple’s on the loose (and they skedaddled)” And that purple teddy bear named Snickerknickerbox, who snored.
It was amazing. And not just because Harriet is someone I am particularly fond of, and because I am one half of the two people who have read her Mabel Murple 3000 times, but because it was wonderful to see, how Sheree’s joy is contagious, the generosity of her spirit, how her books performed aloud are more amazing than I ever expected (and my expectations were pretty high). Because a book can get so far into a little kid’s head, and because books are so incredible, and how wonderful are these days when we get to celebrate them together.
Because we met Sheree Fitch. And also because Harriet had her Eden Mills debut, which we certainly weren’t expecting. As I watched it all unfold, it was completely clear that this was one of the greatest things I would ever witness in my long, long joyful life.
July 25, 2013
Ellen’s Lion by Crockett Johnson
We go to the library every week or so, and I wander the stacks plucking books off the shelves with never an idea of which will “take”. Most of them are good or okay, some of them we read once and never read again, and then once in a while (and we never know when) there is a book we fall in love with. Ellen’s Lion by Crockett Johnson was such a book, though we came close to missing it altogether. It was small, old battered, and text-heavy, so Harriet never picked it up from the pile. We only started reading it when we learned that someone else had requested the book and therefore we couldn’t renew it, but it quickly became apparent that Ellen’s Lion is a book we had to own.
Published in 1959 and written and illustrated by Johnson (of Harold and the Purple Crayon fame), Ellen’s Lion is a book it is impossible to imagine that Mo Willems hadn’t been thinking about when he created his wonderful Amanda and her Alligator. The books are so similar in approach and tone, the story of a sparky girl and her strangely animated stuffed toy, dealing with the peculiar power dynamics between them. Though Johnson’s book is a little bit darker, Ellen’s stuffed lion a more complex character than Amanda’s alligator (and not always altogether kind). Johnson also plays interestingly with the fact that the lion’s animatedness is fuelled by Ellen’s imagination only (or is it?). There is a marvelous depth here that recalls what I love best about Arnold Lobel’s Frog and Toad.
There are few illustrations in the book, so it’s not going to appeal to everybody, but we were drawn in by the remarkable character of Ellen herself (who bears an uncanny physical resemblance to Harold). The book begins with the story “Conversation and Song”, whose opening is:
Ellen sat on the footstool and looked down thoughtfully at the lion. He lay on his stomach on the floor at her feet.
“Whenever you and I have a conversation I do all the talking, don’t I?” she said.
The lion remained silent.
“I never let you say a single word,” Ellen said.
The lion did not say a word…
Finally, the lion talks, and Ellen tries to persuade him to join her in singing a round. Oddly, it doesn’t work. It seems that Ellen and her lion are incapable to singing two different parts at once.
In the other stories, Lion rides on Ellen’s train set all the way to Arabia. Ellen phones the police to report a lion in her room, and then must hide her lion when the (imaginary?) policeman arrives. In “Two Pairs of Eyes”, Ellen uses her lion’s button eyes to look for the things in the dark she can’t see behind her. In “Doctor’s Orders”, Ellen plays doctor and tries to convince Lion that he’s a poor, ill little lion who just can’t stop smoking. Ellen tries to convince the lion that he should be a tiger when he grows up. Ellen’s acting in a play in “Five Pointed Star”, and Lion must resist her efforts to involve him in the performance. In “Sad Interlude”, Ellen tries to project great melancholy onto her lion, but he’s not playing. In “Fairy Tale”, Ellen goes from game to game, imagining she’s a fairy, then a knight, then a princess, without transitions even, all the while she is eating a muffin with raspberry jam. Her imagination is inexhaustible. And in the final story “The Last Squirrel”, a new toy threatens to displace Ellen’s Lion, but the history between girl and plush creature proves a bond too strong to sever.
There is one moment, or one word, only when this book shows its datedness. “I’m going to be a lady fireman,” Ellen shouts as she explains to lion that he’s going to be a tiger when he grows up, not her. But even the sentiment of this demonstrates the kind of book that Ellen’s Lion is, that Ellen is a strong, feisty and spirited heroine whose gender is incidental to her character (and that’s why I loved Willems’ Amanda too). I might declare that Ellen was ahead of her time, though the fact of the matter is merely that contemporary female picture book characters in general are undergoing a bit of a regression.
I love this book. We bought a used copy from Amazon for a very low price, though it’s also currently in “print” as an e-book. The really cool news, which we discovered yesterday, is that Johnson wrote a sequel to Ellen’s Lion, called The Lion’s Own Story. However this cool news takes a tragic turn–the book is not available at the library and used copies sell for $300. Has anybody read it?
July 24, 2013
The Day the Crayons Quit by Drew Daywalt and Oliver Jeffers
“Down with this sort of thing!” screams the red crayon’s placard on the back of The Day the Crayons Quit, a new book by Drew Daywalt and illustrated by THE Oliver Jeffers. And oh, this book is funny, appealing to the little ones listening and their parents alike. More over, to those of us who are postally inclined: here is an epistolary picture book, illustrations of airmail envelopes even. They’re among a huge stack of envelopes tied up with string that Duncan discovers one day at school when he’s taking out his crayons. It turns out the crayons have quit, however, their letters voicing each of their respective protests: red is sick of the overtime, having to work through the holidays colouring Santa Claus and Valentine hearts; beige hates having everyone think he is boring (“when was the last time you saw a kid excited about coloring wheat?”); grey is exhausted from overuse, with Duncan’s affinity for elephants, hippos and whales, each of them so big; white is barely there; orange and yellow are in a feud about the colour of the sun. And so it goes, letter by letter, colour by letter, until Duncan devises a clever way to bring peace to his crayon box.
There is a reference to nakedness and underwear, demonstrating that you can be smart and appeal to the lowest common denominator at the same time, much to my daughter’s amusement. The book is gorgeously illustrated, Jeffers’ familiar collage approach shown here as the pictures include the texture of actual pieces of paper and pages from colouring books. The crayons themselves are simply drawn, but still have enormous personality. The art they’re used to create is charmingly convincing as that made by a childish hand.
Here is a wonderful testament to the hidden lives of ordinary things, as well as to childhood creativity and the pleasures of rainbows.
July 17, 2013
Les Ontoulu ne mangent pas les livres
We have to thank my lovely cousin, who is my oldest and one of my dearest friends, for delivering this most remarkable picture book into our life. She’d had enough of waiting for Les Ontoulu ne mengest pas les livres to be translated into English and so gave it to us in its original French, along with her very own English translation alongside. And thank goodness she did–this book is wonderful! It is a story about the Ontoulu family (whose name translates as “Read It All”). Their home is full of literary treasures, and the parents are eager to pass on their love on books to their adorable son Lulu. Because books are their life– the Ontoulu’s read books, write books, collect books, they even eat bo– no! don’t be ridiculous! They’d didn’t eat books!
But when they do introduce books to wee Lulu, figuring that he will love them as much as they do, he promptly sticks them in his mouth. Apparently they feel so good on his teething gums, and the Ontoulu parents are horrified. “Lulu, in our family we don’t eat books,” they tell him and they take the books away until he’s finished teething.
But the next time they give him a book, he throws it on the floor–he loves the music the book creates as it lands. He draws in his picture books. He tears out the pages of a travel book to make into a kite. And his parents are exasperated, while poor Lulu really doesn’t understand both why they’re so unhappy with him and what’s the big deal about books anyway? They seem to only create problems, and besides, he’s never once managed to get to the end of a story.
One day, however, in an effort to cheer up his Papa who is sick in bed, Lulu opens up a book and begins making up a story of his own. His Papa realizes that of all the literary treasures in their home, the amazing stories that Lulu imagines are the greatest of all of them. He and his wife develop a more playful attitude toward their home library, conceding that books sometimes do indeed make fine building blocks for constructing castles and other splendid unconventional things. And with his parents’ more relaxed approach to the bookish life, Lulu begins to understand their passion and decides that he too is going to become a reader of books, a writer of books, a collector of books and an eater of bo–no! don’t be ridiculous! He’s not going to eat books.
How lovely to read a Canadian picture book in our other official language. Merci, ma cousine!
July 15, 2013
The Wild Rumpus
I learned about Story Mobs on Friday, and knew immediately what we’d be up to the next day. What an adventure: “where great kids’ books meet flash mobs with a dash of Mardi Gras thrown in.” Our family met up with many others in a small park behind Nathan Phillips Square on Saturday afternoon with our maracas on hand, along with wolf ears and a copy of Where the Wild Things Are. Now, we have a newborn in the family and we’re quite crap at organization (wolf ears created 10 minutes before we left the house), so our preparations paled in comparison to those of others who were exquisitely attired and were carrying amazing props. We took part in a rehearsal of the story’s reading, and then made a parade with all the other wild things to the pool in front of City Hall where we drew attention with strange costumes, samba drums, and the general oddness of our presence. The story began, featured readers projecting their voices across the square and the rest of us participating with responses. My favourite part is when we got to shout: “Oh, please don’t go. We’ll eat you up! We love you so.” Though the wild rumpus itself was nothing to be scoffed at as we danced like wild things around Nathan Phillips Square with a bunch of similarly-minded strangers in the sunshine. (The Ai Weiwei sculptures in the pool added nicely to the effect, I think.) And then Max sailed back in and out of weeks to his very own room where his supper was waiting. It was still hot, which deserved a cheer, we thought, and then we scattered, and the event was over as though it had never begun, except for in the minds of those of us who were there.
Another Story Mob is scheduled for two weeks from now with Jillian Jiggs being performed. Thanks to Bunch Family for bringing this fabulous event to my attention!
July 2, 2013
Incredible Journeys
We were thrilled to visit the Incredible Journeys exhibit at the Lillian H. Smith Library’s Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books. We all loved the pop-up books featuring trains, boats and planes, and the displays featuring storybook characters travelling in balloons, airships, by train, bicycle, public transit, and also “journeys of the mind”. It was exciting to see so many books we recognized–Curious George, Canadian Railway Trilogy, and more*, and also to see so many beautiful old illustrated books for the first time. But the particular highlight was an actual map of the Island of Sodor and several first-edition books from The Railway Series (which was a precursor to Thomas the Tank Engine).
The exhibit is on until September.
*I would delineate exactly which ones, except that I haven’t slept more than 2.5 hrs in a row in a month and therefore my short-term memory has been obliterated. I remember being very impressed though. Really!
June 27, 2013
My review of The Dark by Lemony Snickett and Jon Klassen
Lucky me. I got to review The Dark, a new picture book by Lemony Snickett and Jon Klassen. It was such a pleasure to read and review.
““Laszlo was afraid of the dark,” the book begins. The accompanying illustration shows Laszlo playing with his trucks in a shrinking ray of light, the sun outside the window starting to set. When the sun goes down, shadows fall throughout the house, and Laszlo fends them off with his ever-present flashlight and night light. But when the bulb in his night light burns out, Laszlo is forced to face his deepest fears.”
Read the rest here. And get this book!
June 26, 2013
How To by Julie Morstad
I’ve never met a book illustrated by Julie Morstad that I didn’t like (see The Swing, and Singing Away the Dark, plus the Henry books) and so when I heard about How To, the book she’d illustrated and written, I was very excited. I liked the premise too, Morstad’s pictures answering the specific how-to’s on every page. The cover image, for example, is “How to make new friends.” The picture of the girl sitting at the top of the slide is “How to be brave.” The images are always a little bit surprising, never quite how you’d expect the text to be accompanied. “How to see the wind” is a group of children flying their kites–I love that! I also love the whimsy of Morstad’s children, the exquisiteness of their detail–slouchy socks, pleated skirts, the buttons on their overalls. They’re styled, stylish even, but also timeless. I admire the diversity as well, boys and girls playing together, kids of different colours, different races.
The premise is unbelievably clever, but How To‘s genius lies in its simplicity. I love the substance behind its charm as well, that the text is posing and the illustrations are answering such fundamental questions. “How to be happy” is the book’s final statement, accompanied by a two-page spread of children dancing, moving and being together. It’s a lesson as perfect as it is profound.
June 17, 2013
New Kids’ Books We’ve Been Enjoying Lately
A new picture book by Kyo Maclear is a literary event. Her books (Spork, Virginia Wolf) are always extraordinary, and her latest, Mr. Flux, is no exception. Illustrated by Matte Stephens, the book tells the story of a boy called Martin who lives a very ordered life which is shook up when a new neighbour moves onto his street. The neighbour, Mr. Flux, calls himself an artist, though he doesn’t make sculptures or draw pictures. His art, instead, is the art of mixing things up, looking at ordinary objects in unusual ways and taking unconventional pathways throughout his days. In Mr. Flux, Maclear is alluding to the 1960s’ Fluxus art movement, though for those of us to whom such references fly above the radar, the book appeals in its simple lesson that change is not always to be resisted. It’s a lesson useful to younger readers, but one that I could also do with having enforced myself every once in a while.
And we love the new picture book by Mo Willems, That Is Not A Good Idea, which is so perfect for Harriet (age 4) as a listening-reader and as a reader beginning to read on her own. She likes the simple text, its repetition and that she is able to read along as I do. And I love the book’s proto-feminism and that it stars a Mother who out-foxes a fox–best ending twist ever! The book is stylized as an old fashioned movie, which you get a sense of in its trailer here. Once again, Mo Willems is a blockbuster smash.
