July 7, 2011
Our Best Book from this week's library haul: The Terrible Plop by Ursula Dubosarsky/Andrew Joyner
The Terrible Plop is The Gruffalo meets Chicken Little, the story of a strange sound that sends a whole forest running until one tiny bunny is brave enough face a scary reality, and find it not so scary at all. With its bouncy verse and tiny outsmarting creature, the story is a bit too Gruffalo derivative, but in the end manages its own particular charm. It’s got bunnies, rhymes, and chocolate cake, so what more could we ask for? And we’re still having fun reading it over and over again.
June 30, 2011
Our Best Book from this week's library haul: Cinnamon Baby by Nicola Winstanley
We had very good luck at the library this week, and so to determine a Best Book was difficult. We were delighted with Robert McCloskey’s One Morning in Maine, which was so lovely that Harriet sat through the whole thing even though it was looong. We liked The House Book by Keith DuQuette, Dog in Boots by Greg Gormley, and An Evening at Alfie’s (but then we love all the Alfie books). Our favourite of all of them, however, has been Cinnamon Baby by Nicola Winstanley, about a brand new baby who cries and cries, until her mother (who is a baker) finally soothes her with the smell of cinnamon bread baking in the oven. A very good book for those in our family who remember a certain baby who once cried, and cried, and also for those of us who are absolutely obsessed with babies (hint: not the parents). And Janice Nadeau’s illustrations are as lovely as the prose, whimsical and yet grounded with familiar objects its readers will know. We particularly like the cat who is holding an umbrella…
June 22, 2011
Our Best Book from this week's library haul: Goldie and the Three Bears
Diane Stanley’s Goldie and the Three Bears gets this week’s nod mostly because while I think it’s a pretty good picture book, Harriet is absolutely obsessed with it. (This also makes 2/3 weeks where our best book has been one Harriet has randomly pulled off the shelf with no regard for anything except chaos.) I love the detailed illustrations, and that this twist on an old story stands up perfectly fine all on its own. Goldie is a very picky little girl (the swing is “too high”, the movie is “too scary”, her peanut butter sandwich is only “just right” when it’s on white bread, no jelly, with the crusts cut off), which makes it hard for her to make friends (because Penny is too boring, and Jenny is too rough). When one day she gets off the bus at the wrong stop, however, she stumbles into an empty house, and tries a few sandwiches, sits in a few chairs, falls asleep in somebody’s bed, and in the process, makes a friend–one she can love with all her heart. Which sounds cheesy, but it isn’t, and we like the pictures of the friends climbing trees, building block towers, and have an elaborate tea party. If there has to be a story I read 10 times a day for a week, I am awfully glad it is this one.
June 15, 2011
Our Best Book from this week's library haul: Oscar's Half Birthday by Bob Graham
This week, we asked our librarian to recommend books about “alternative” families, because Harriet is obsessed with the construction of family units and we thought now would be a good time to broaden her little mind a bit, so we took out And Tango Makes Three. The librarian also suggested Oscar’s Half-Birthday, whose family construction is fairly standard, but whose urban, hipster, inter-racial parents will help acclimatize Harriet to families way cooler than her own. And happily, these details (along with the urban scenery of abandoned shopping carts and graffiti) are pretty incidental to a lovely story celebrating baby Oscar’s half-birthday, which climaxes with the picnicking population of an entire hillside erupting into song. (The song is also “Happy Birthday”, which is currently Harriet’s favourite, so we liked that too.) My favourite part of the book is big sister Millie, however, with her coat-hanger fairy-wings and green dinosaur puppet– if my daughter is going to have a role model from a book, I’d hope it could be one like this.
Also, the writing is so good. Like this, “…the half-birthday boy, OSCAR, sits tilted at an angle, his fingers curled into Millie’s tuna sandwich. His shoulders are hunched, his head nods, and the light shines through his ears, illuminating them like little lanterns.” Exactly!
June 9, 2011
Our Best Book from this Week's Library Haul: Bumpety Bump by Pat Hutchins
Our best book from this week’s library haul was Pat Hutchins’ Bumpety Bump which we love for its rhythm, and also for the illustrations which wonderfully depict a rich garden growing above and underground. It’s a great book for this time of year when gardens are everywhere and Harriet’s prime fascination. Runner-up is Barbara Reid’s The Party, which I’ve read five times today.
May 31, 2011
Magic Cities at the Osborne Collection
I wish I’d written this post weeks ago, because it would have given you more than four days to make your own visit to the Osborne Collection of Early Children’s Books (at the Lillian H. Smith Library) to see the Magic Cities Exhibit, which closes on Saturday (June 4). But I couldn’t have posted it, because I only went to the exhibit yesterday, but I’m putting this post up anyway in order to urge all those who can to go and see it for themselves.
I’ve written about this before (scroll down), but I love houses, and literary houses in particular: Howards End, To the Lighthouse, Anne of Green Gables (and the girls of Lantern Hill. New Moon, Silverbush etc. Clearly LM Montgomery loved houses too). Most of my favourite books have a house at their centres, and it was the case when I was little too– I loved the way illustrations showed houses with a wall removed so that you could see life going on inside it. (I still feel similarly when the outlines of rooms from a demolished buildings are visible on the wall of the house still standing next door). I loved Virginia Lee Burton’s The Little House, as well, and now so too does Harriet.
So it was with great joy that I discovered that the Magic Cities exhibit is all about houses. Pop-up books with castles inside, picture books about how houses are built, and the parts of houses, and the early ways that children learn about architecture. (Though, surprisingly, I did not see reference to A House is a House for Me). Novels about houses like Green Gables, and Green Knowe, that Little House on the Prairie, and books about neighbourhoods, and different kinds of cities and towns. Lovingly curated with every wonderful book you’ve ever forgotten, the exhibit features books old and new, original artwork, and plenty to reflect on and delight in. So glad I got to take a look at it before it turns over to the summer exhibit (which is Turtle Mania! I’ll be checking that one out too).
May 17, 2011
Knowing the story before the story was told
“Every night, after tea, his mother took him on her lap and read to him. It was the moment in his day above all others which was understandable to him, one where he lived in coherent companionship and liberty. there, horses, ducks, rabbits, foxes and other animals talked, had adventures, and were friends. His mother read well. She read slowly and clearly. She let him see the book as she read and since she re-read the same books many times, he came to memorize the story on each page, cued by the illustration on it or on the facing page. And knowing the story before the story was told was security, power, delight and beauty.” –Pete Sanger, “Leaping Time” in The New Quarterly 118
April 19, 2011
Best Books About Bunnies
It’s that time of year again, when all the serious thinkers in the world start compiling lists of best books about bunnies. We’re still secular fundamentalists over here, but our inner pagans have happily appropriated Easter and all its spring-time loveliness (inc. Cadbury’s contributions to it). Plus we love rabbits–me: Miffy. Harriet: rabbits in general, which are “bunnies” always. Hate real rabbits though. Nasty creatures… But that’s another story. In the meantime, here are our favourite rabbits at the moment from the land of picture books.
Moon Rabbit/Brown Rabbit in the City by Natalie Russell. We have these books out of the library all the time, which give a laporine twist on the country mouse/city mouse scenario. The pictures are gorgeous, a bit retro, decorated with collagey patterned touches, and feature delightful things like teapots, guitars, and a double-decker bus. Moon Rabbit (which Harriet calls Moon Bunny) is about a city dwelling rabbit who looks out at the big moon and wonders if there is anyone else in the world like her. When she inadvertently wanders off into the outskirts of town, she meets a guitar-playing brown rabbit whose music makes her happy. They have fun together, until she begins to long for home, so she returns even though she’ll miss her friend, but he makes plans to see her soon. His visit is the subject of the second book, which is just as lovely.
Roslyn Rutabaga and the Biggest Hole on Earth by Marie Louise Gay. The illustrations here are vibrant, textured, and leap right 
off the page. Roslyn is a bouncy bunny with long ears and big dreams: she’s determined to dig the biggest hole on earth (and maybe even meet a penguin when she gets to the South Pole). She’s not sure where to dig the hole, however, and then once she determines where to start, she discovers she’s digging in a worm’s front yard, in mole’s living room, and in a dog’s bone storage area. Clearly underground is less barren than she ever imagined (and if I were preposterous, I would suppose that this story actually an allegory about European colonization). She’s just about discouraged when her dad comes outside and makes her realize (but in a most unsentimental fashion) that she can dig the biggest hole on earth in her imagination. And then they eat lunch.
Without You (and Me and You) by Genevieve Cote. We love, love, love Genevieve, who draws the best teapots, and this is the book that Harriet will receive as a gift on Sunday morning. This latest book is the story of two best friends (pig and rabbit) who have learned to celebrate their differences in theory, but find that day-to-day realities make the practice more difficult than they’d supposed. After an argument, they decide they don’t need one another anyway, but quickly discover that life is way less fun and interesting without a best friend to share it with. Not an allegory about European colonization, but a sweet and simple story that’s familiar to anyone and (spoiler alert) has a beautiful, happy ending.
The Velveteen Rabbit (Abridged) by Margery Williams, illustrated by Don Daily. My mom gave this to 
Harriet for Easter last year, and of course, it’s well known, but I highlight it here because the abridgement is great. For kids a bit too small to appreciate the full story, here is the story stripped down but not in a way that takes away from the plot or the prose.
The Quiet Book by Deborah Underwood, illustrated byRenata Liwska. Bunnies are just one of the creatures that features in this weird, wonderful book about the various kinds of quiet (“swimming under water quiet”, “Right before you yell “Surprise!” quiet”, “Trying not to hiccup quiet”). Not simply a list of quiets, a plot can be detected by the action in the pictures, but not entirely–for example, why was the little moose colouring on the wall? And we’re still trying to figure out how the little bear swimming underwater ended up with an injured tail. But I love that– picture books with as much subtext as a novel, and how the best ones are those you’ll never be altogether finished reading.
April 1, 2011
A teapot for Harriet
Our friend Genevieve Côté sent us this picture today, to satisfy Harriet’s love of teapots. (Harriet is a teapot tyrant. She will hand you a crayon and say, “Teapot, happy” and you have no choice but to comply, to draw that teapot, and don’t even try to forget the happy smile.)
We were excited to see Genevieve’s new book yesterday at Book City. Without You is the sequel to her acclaimed 2009 book Me and You, and I will be buying it for Harriet for her birthday. Genevieve has a thing for teapots too, and Harriet loves finding them in her gorgeous illustrations.
March 24, 2011
The original chronicler of motherhood
Lately I’ve been turning to Shirley Hughes’ Alfie books whenever I’m in need of parenting guidance. (I am also reading another book called Toddler Taming that recommends spanking and tying up children with rope, quite unabashedly, but then it was written in 1984 when that sort of thing was de rigueur. But actually, casual cruelty aside(!), it’s a great book. Just let me explain… Review to come.) I love Shirley Hughes, and I really love Alfie, and Harriet loves him too, so we’ve read his stories an awful lot.
And I don’t think the experience of parenthood has ever been better articulated in literature than with this one paragraph from Alfie Gets in First: “Mum put the brake on the push-chair and left Annie Rose at the bottom of the steps while she lifted the basket of shopping up to the top. Then she found the key and opened the front door. Alfie dashed in ahead of her. “I’ve won, I’ve won!” he shouted. Mum put the shopping down in the hall and went back down the steps to lift Annie Rose out of her push chair. But what do you think Alfie did then?”
This kind of tedious maneuvering is the story of my life, and if you’ve ever lived such a life, you understand that Mum has spent ages strategizing the perfect order in which to perform the tasks that will deliver her children and groceries into her house with maximum efficiency. I absolutely adore that recognition. Never mind Rachel Cusk as chronicler of motherhood, no, Shirley Hughes absolutely did it first.
I love her illustrations, and am fascinated by the interior of Alfie’s house. Harriet likes to comb the pictures for teapots, and I love to spot what else is cluttering the corners: discarded shoes, soccer balls, old ties, umbrellas, toy teacups, tennis rackets, folded strollers, and acorns.
Though Alfie’s mum, however rumpled, is a far better mum/mom than I am. Which I’m absolutely fine with, having chosen to take Alfie and Annie Rose’s dad as the parent upon which I model myself. He’s not around as much as Mum (and there I fall short. I never seem to go away), but when he is around, he’s usually behind a newspaper. I love that when in Alfie’s Feet, he takes Alfie to the park, he takes care to bring his book and his newspaper. A parent after my own heart, I think, and Alfie doesn’t seem any less content as he splashes through the puddles, his dad reading the paper on a park bench behind him.
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