Another couple of weeks of radio silence, and I guess that it's time to confess to those who don't know that I can very easily get knocked off my rhythm. This time it was the combination of a nasty case of mastitis, which means that basically the only thing I cared about was sleep and nursing, and then recovering from that.
This week we had quite a haul of Tomie dePaola. In this house, we are of the opinion that, like Eric Carle and Jan Brett, Mr. dePaola would have to really check out for his book to not be awesome. At that point it might just be "good." That's not to say, however, that all of his books are for all kids at all times. We have several on our shelf that are waiting for EJ to get a little older, and the batch we got this week (The Song of Francis; Angels, Angels Everywhere; and Days of the Blackbird: A Tale of Northern Italy).
For poetry, we had:
Ox-Cart Man by Donald Hall. Illustrated by Barbara Cooney.
This is a children's adaptation of the lyric poem "Ox Cart Man," featured on Ep. 1, Season 2 (1983) of "Reading Rainbow" (which, by the way, is available for a steal on iTunes). EJ has it memorized. Seriously. When my 2 year old hears "In October," her response is "He backed his ox into his cart" and sets off through the poem. It's a very straightforward poem about self-sufficient life on a New England farm in the 1800s and the sale of excess at the Plymouth market. There is no rhyme, but there is a measured pacing from the sometimes-repeated phrasing and sequencing of the events that mimics the pace of a 10-day walk to market. I remember loving this book when I watched the RR episode when I was little, and delight in watching my daughters do the same.
Tyranosaurus Drip by Julia Donaldson. Illustrated by David Roberts
In another poem, this time with both rhyme and meter, the narrator describes the experience of a misplaced duckbill egg that hatches as a rather awkward T Rex. The poet's skill is evident in her ability to fit "compsognathus" into a verse:
"Now a little Compsognathus (but for short, we'll call her Comp)
Found a duckbill egg and stole it from a nest beside the swamp.
And she swam with it, and ran with it, and murmured, "Clever me!"
And, "Won't the baby Comps be thrilled with duckbill egg for...T!"
The pacing never waivers and the verse never gets clunky, and as an added bonus, the moral--everyone fits somewhere, you just have to find your tribe--is clear without being overbearing.
Contrast that with another didactically narrative poem about sharing called "The Mine-o-saur" by Sudiptha Bardan-Quallen. As the title implies, the story tells of the schoolyard tyranny of the Mine-o-saur, who claims all things as his own until he loses both friends and recess privileges. The plot is just fine, though if your kiddo hasn't hit the "mine" stage this might introduce an awkward period into your home if you don't stress that what the Mine-o-saur is doing is wrong.
The problem with "The Mine-o-saur" is the noncommittal poetry. Some parts, in red text, are rhymed and metered. Others, in black text, are prose. Except the prose parts that happen to also rhyme or feel metered but are NOT in red text. Basically it feels like the author was going for a long poem but couldn't pull it together and instead of keeping at it, surrendered. It is one example of what I hate about some so-called kid's lit: it feels like the author or the publisher thought "It's for kids, so they won't mind/notice/care." Well, parents have to read it. We care. And you're teaching my kids about poetry, so I care for them. Not everything needs to be Roald Dahl, but straight up bad writing bothers me less than writing from clearly talented writers who don't bother to polish their writing for children.
Sunday, September 14, 2014
Monday, August 25, 2014
Animals All the Time
Sorry for the missed week! Last week I was on my own with the girls, and was just trying to keep my head above water and the house in some state of repair.
We got a variety last week:
Olivia Goes to Venice by Ian Falconer
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
It's the Bear by Jez Alborough
Where's My Teddy by Jez Alborough
Diary of a Worm by Doreen Cronin. Pictures by Harry Bliss.
Duck on a Bike by David Shannon
"Diary of a Worm" was a cute book, but was very much a diary, with humor that went a little over EJ's head. She's 2--many things sail over her head. She liked the pictures, but the diary style was hard for her to follow, I think.
The "Bear" books were cute, and Erica thinks they're great. I was a little bored by them, because they are setting up a story that I already know because our first one was " My Friend, Bear," in which we have already met all the characters described in the books. Alborough does a nice job with the poetic narrative. Honestly, my one critique is for the publisher, not the author: in many kids' books,
the line breaks in the poems occur, not when they should naturally to set up the rhythm and rhyme scheme, but randomly to fit the text into the light areas of the illustration. WRONG! It's a book, and the text is of primary importance, supported by the art. Place the words first, then work the art around that.
The clear winner this week was "Duck on a Bike," for Erica and me both. The illustrations were great, the characters were able to be funny without being too adult in their humor and when the animals, who all dismiss Duck's antics, spot their own chance to ride, their faces are hysterical.
Of note: If you pick up "In the Night Kitchen," know that it is an anatomically correct book. When kiddo gets nekked and falls into the night kitchen, there are a couple of full frontals of his boy bits. THEY ARE NOT RUDE, or anything, but we're so used to neuter illustrations that I may or may have giggled like a preteen. It's a decent book, but just be aware so you can stifle your giggles while explaining to your daughter why Mike's bits don't look like hers.
We got a variety last week:
Olivia Goes to Venice by Ian Falconer
In the Night Kitchen by Maurice Sendak
It's the Bear by Jez Alborough
Where's My Teddy by Jez Alborough
Diary of a Worm by Doreen Cronin. Pictures by Harry Bliss.
Duck on a Bike by David Shannon
"Diary of a Worm" was a cute book, but was very much a diary, with humor that went a little over EJ's head. She's 2--many things sail over her head. She liked the pictures, but the diary style was hard for her to follow, I think.
The "Bear" books were cute, and Erica thinks they're great. I was a little bored by them, because they are setting up a story that I already know because our first one was " My Friend, Bear," in which we have already met all the characters described in the books. Alborough does a nice job with the poetic narrative. Honestly, my one critique is for the publisher, not the author: in many kids' books,
the line breaks in the poems occur, not when they should naturally to set up the rhythm and rhyme scheme, but randomly to fit the text into the light areas of the illustration. WRONG! It's a book, and the text is of primary importance, supported by the art. Place the words first, then work the art around that.
The clear winner this week was "Duck on a Bike," for Erica and me both. The illustrations were great, the characters were able to be funny without being too adult in their humor and when the animals, who all dismiss Duck's antics, spot their own chance to ride, their faces are hysterical.
Of note: If you pick up "In the Night Kitchen," know that it is an anatomically correct book. When kiddo gets nekked and falls into the night kitchen, there are a couple of full frontals of his boy bits. THEY ARE NOT RUDE, or anything, but we're so used to neuter illustrations that I may or may have giggled like a preteen. It's a decent book, but just be aware so you can stifle your giggles while explaining to your daughter why Mike's bits don't look like hers.
Wednesday, August 13, 2014
Lost in Translation
We wandered around the different sections of the library this week, and came home with what I would call a less than stellar haul. It included several other books that, honestly, I didn't read--J read them to the girls while I stuck with familiar tales that my tired brain could do on autopilot. The two I did read, though, just struck nerves. I don't think the books are poorly written, but the plots didn't cut it for us.
Backyard Bear, by Jim Murphy. Illustrated by Jeffrey Greene.
The motivation behind this book was a good one: inform suburbanites of the wrong way to deal with bear incursions that, at publication in 1993, were becoming more frequent in densely populated areas on the East Coast. However, that motivation is explained as a postscript called "The Bear Facts." The message is lost in the drama of the story itself.
A bear wanders into a neighborhood after being chased from the woods by a larger bear. He wanders around, and is eventually cornered by a dog, mother, father, and kid with a camera with a flash. The police arrive, shining more lights directly at the trapped bear, leading to an unsuccessful pursuit of the bear through the neighborhood until morning, when the bear is able to get back to the forest.
All these things are certainly possible: the idiot parent going "I wonder what's prowling in my back yard. I should bring the dog and my kid to Instagram what could be a prowler, drug dealer, or wild animal," the police not bothering to call animal control or Fish and Game to tranquilize a bear that is clearly not acclimated to humans, and a guns-drawn chase through neighborhoods. What the book needed, though, was an explanation within the story that this was the wrong approach, and that caution was the better move.
As a parent living in urban bear country, this book gets a thumbs down, despite the wonderful drawings and compelling writing, because of what is missing in its content.
Uglypuss, by Caroline Gregoire (tr. from the French by George Wen)
Boy wants dog. Boy gets dog, but dog is ugly. Boy is horrid to dog, makes him cry by saying mean things, and instead of thumping boy for being mean to his new pet who clearly adores him, Mom assures boy that his friends will eventually like dog because dog has a great personality. Because what we need is one more thing to reinforce that living beings get their dignity from their attractiveness and the opinions of others. Boy goes to camp and dog follows. Boy throws a hissyfit, is mean to dog again, ends up falling into a pool and almost drowning until Uglypuss saves him, at which point boy loves loves loves dog.
Moral: Ugly things are only worth loving based on what they can do for us.
I'll give it the benefit of the doubt that, in the French sensibility, that's not what the author meant. However, since that does not translate into the English version, we won't be getting this book again.
Talking Points
When we read both these books, I talked on a very basic level about what was not ok about them. What do you do when you come across something in a story that either contradicts what you're teaching your kids or that is simply in error? How do you handle it?
Backyard Bear, by Jim Murphy. Illustrated by Jeffrey Greene.
The motivation behind this book was a good one: inform suburbanites of the wrong way to deal with bear incursions that, at publication in 1993, were becoming more frequent in densely populated areas on the East Coast. However, that motivation is explained as a postscript called "The Bear Facts." The message is lost in the drama of the story itself.
A bear wanders into a neighborhood after being chased from the woods by a larger bear. He wanders around, and is eventually cornered by a dog, mother, father, and kid with a camera with a flash. The police arrive, shining more lights directly at the trapped bear, leading to an unsuccessful pursuit of the bear through the neighborhood until morning, when the bear is able to get back to the forest.
All these things are certainly possible: the idiot parent going "I wonder what's prowling in my back yard. I should bring the dog and my kid to Instagram what could be a prowler, drug dealer, or wild animal," the police not bothering to call animal control or Fish and Game to tranquilize a bear that is clearly not acclimated to humans, and a guns-drawn chase through neighborhoods. What the book needed, though, was an explanation within the story that this was the wrong approach, and that caution was the better move.
As a parent living in urban bear country, this book gets a thumbs down, despite the wonderful drawings and compelling writing, because of what is missing in its content.
Uglypuss, by Caroline Gregoire (tr. from the French by George Wen)
Boy wants dog. Boy gets dog, but dog is ugly. Boy is horrid to dog, makes him cry by saying mean things, and instead of thumping boy for being mean to his new pet who clearly adores him, Mom assures boy that his friends will eventually like dog because dog has a great personality. Because what we need is one more thing to reinforce that living beings get their dignity from their attractiveness and the opinions of others. Boy goes to camp and dog follows. Boy throws a hissyfit, is mean to dog again, ends up falling into a pool and almost drowning until Uglypuss saves him, at which point boy loves loves loves dog.
Moral: Ugly things are only worth loving based on what they can do for us.
I'll give it the benefit of the doubt that, in the French sensibility, that's not what the author meant. However, since that does not translate into the English version, we won't be getting this book again.
Talking Points
When we read both these books, I talked on a very basic level about what was not ok about them. What do you do when you come across something in a story that either contradicts what you're teaching your kids or that is simply in error? How do you handle it?
Monday, August 4, 2014
Helen Lester and Mem Fox
Our family has a soft spot for Helen Lester because we have a really soft spot for Tacky the Penguin. He's loud like we are, dramatic like we are, and more than a little interesting--just like we are. In Ms. Lester's own words, "Tacky [is] an odd bird, but a nice bird to have around."
So last week we gorged on Helen Lester books, all illustrated by Lynn Munsinger:
Tacky and the Emperor
Tacky Goes to Camp
Tacky and the Winter Games
Score One for Sloths
Hooway for Wodney Wat
The recurring theme in the Lester/Munsinger books that we've read so far is the value of individuality. In each, the protagonist--Tacky, Sparky Sloth, and Wodney Wat (Rodney Rat)--is the odd man out. Tacky isn't orderly like the rest of the penguins, Sparky isn't slothful, and Wodney is cowed and shy because of the teasing he receives for his speech impediment. Then the "normal" kids get themselves in a sticky situation, the odd man out saves the day, and reminds the others that differences can be valuable.
For me, "Sloths" was a little slow--appropriate, perhaps, but it didn't engage EJ the way the Tacky books and Wodney did. It's Lester's nod to the mess of standardized testing (the sloth school is on the administration's radar because the sloths are great at being sloths, but bad at waking up for math and reading), and a cute take, but that makes it more engaging for the adult than for the kid.
We loved Wodney, and I think it would be great for older readers, too, to help understand that teasing can be hurtful. The danger in reading it to a younger kiddo--younger than Lester's intended audience--is that a kid who does just fine with "r" sounds but is still in the mimic phase of language learning may temporarily pick up a speech impediment. Code: EJ started w-ing her r sounds for a bit after reading Wodney. Nothing horrid, just something to be aware of.
We also read "Yoo-hoo! Ladybug!" by Mem Fox. This one is actually more for EJ's age group: one to two sentences per page, engaging collage-style illustrations by Laura Ljungkvist, and a hide/find game built in. I was a little bored by it after the first read, but EJ paraded around the house declaring "Yoo-hoo! Ladybug! Where aaaaaaaaaaaare you?" So I would say it was a hit for her.
That's it for this week. Next week I'll take some pictures of the books so we're not all words all the time. Until then, what was your hit of the week with your kiddo?
So last week we gorged on Helen Lester books, all illustrated by Lynn Munsinger:
Tacky and the Emperor
Tacky Goes to Camp
Tacky and the Winter Games
Score One for Sloths
Hooway for Wodney Wat
The recurring theme in the Lester/Munsinger books that we've read so far is the value of individuality. In each, the protagonist--Tacky, Sparky Sloth, and Wodney Wat (Rodney Rat)--is the odd man out. Tacky isn't orderly like the rest of the penguins, Sparky isn't slothful, and Wodney is cowed and shy because of the teasing he receives for his speech impediment. Then the "normal" kids get themselves in a sticky situation, the odd man out saves the day, and reminds the others that differences can be valuable.
For me, "Sloths" was a little slow--appropriate, perhaps, but it didn't engage EJ the way the Tacky books and Wodney did. It's Lester's nod to the mess of standardized testing (the sloth school is on the administration's radar because the sloths are great at being sloths, but bad at waking up for math and reading), and a cute take, but that makes it more engaging for the adult than for the kid.
We loved Wodney, and I think it would be great for older readers, too, to help understand that teasing can be hurtful. The danger in reading it to a younger kiddo--younger than Lester's intended audience--is that a kid who does just fine with "r" sounds but is still in the mimic phase of language learning may temporarily pick up a speech impediment. Code: EJ started w-ing her r sounds for a bit after reading Wodney. Nothing horrid, just something to be aware of.
We also read "Yoo-hoo! Ladybug!" by Mem Fox. This one is actually more for EJ's age group: one to two sentences per page, engaging collage-style illustrations by Laura Ljungkvist, and a hide/find game built in. I was a little bored by it after the first read, but EJ paraded around the house declaring "Yoo-hoo! Ladybug! Where aaaaaaaaaaaare you?" So I would say it was a hit for her.
That's it for this week. Next week I'll take some pictures of the books so we're not all words all the time. Until then, what was your hit of the week with your kiddo?
Saturday, August 2, 2014
Allow me to introduce myself.
I'm Katie, wife of J, mother of EJ (2) and Hannah (5mos). I have absolutely no qualifications to be writing kids book reviews, aside from my love of reading kid lit.
Now, there are many people who, by virtue of becoming parents, fall into a love of children's literature. That's not where I started. My disease started at my mother's knee. She's a first grade teacher, and has been sharing her finds with me my whole life. Her love of picture books and youth lit was so infectious that my first purchase when I left home for college was "The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales." Every year since I was a junior in high school, my mom has given me a new kid's book for Christmas, and every year it's the gift I anticipate the most.
My goal for this blog is just to share my take on the books we bring home from the library: to crawl, inch by inch, through the stacks as my kids get older. I'm not sponsored by anyone, or driven by any desire other than to a) write (I was an English major and a poetry masters student, but haven't written much since I got married) and b) share any of my new finds with you.
Let's see how it goes!
Now, there are many people who, by virtue of becoming parents, fall into a love of children's literature. That's not where I started. My disease started at my mother's knee. She's a first grade teacher, and has been sharing her finds with me my whole life. Her love of picture books and youth lit was so infectious that my first purchase when I left home for college was "The Stinky Cheese Man and Other Fairly Stupid Tales." Every year since I was a junior in high school, my mom has given me a new kid's book for Christmas, and every year it's the gift I anticipate the most.
My goal for this blog is just to share my take on the books we bring home from the library: to crawl, inch by inch, through the stacks as my kids get older. I'm not sponsored by anyone, or driven by any desire other than to a) write (I was an English major and a poetry masters student, but haven't written much since I got married) and b) share any of my new finds with you.
Let's see how it goes!
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)