Peanuts Forever (7 Peanuts compilations)

    

Charles Schulz. Good Ol’ Snoopy (1958), Let’s Face it, Charlie Brown (1960), This Is Your Life, Charlie Brown (1962), You’re Not For Real, Snoopy (1965), Snoopy and the Red Baron (1966), He’s Your Dog, Charlie Brown (1968), You’re in Love, Charlie Brown (1969)

     Had another look at the Charlie Brown paperbacks we accumulated when our children we little. I’m still a Peanuts fan. Schulz’s talent was to see the connection between children’s frustrations and adult ones. And he was a master of graphic expression. A wiggly line for a mouth, a drooping doggy head, a dot and curved line for raised or scrunched eyebrows - it’s

amazing how much emotion is conveyed by so little ink. Schulz also knows how to pace a joke. Many of the strips have the build-up and punch line of a stand-up comic’s joke, but are impossible without the graphic. Such as Snoopy lying on his back on the roof of his doghouse while the rain pours down. There’s only one thing wrong with this...The rain keeps running down my nose and eyes.

     Some of the strips have taken on a different resonance these days: Lucy to Linus: See that building there?... If you ever want to borrow a book, all you have to do is go in there and tell them which one you want, and They’ll let you take it home. Linus: Free? Lucy: Absolutely free! Linus: Sort of makes you wonder what they’re up to.

     I thoroughly enjoyed rereading these books. I’ve decided to keep them. ****

Maurice Sendak: Two for beginning readers

 

Two by Sendak: In the Night Kitchen and Chicken Soup With Rice. Maurice Sendak had the gift of remembering what it’s like to be child, and so to know what kind of story appeals to children – not the ones concocted by authors with M. Ed degrees anxious to teach both reading and suitable life lessons. Sendak also knew how to make his pictures not merely illustrations but integral parts of the story.
     In the Night Kitchen tells a dream, in which Mickey falls into the kitchen under his house, where the bakers are busy baking bread and rolls. The bakers look remarkably like Oliver Hardy, and make a Mickey cake, from which he escapes. Chicken Soup With Rice praises that estimable dish in verses that tell us how it suits each month of the year. Well done, very good for beginning readers. Fantasy, clever rhymes, surprising ideas, what more could one want? ****

 

The Song of the Three Holy Children (Illustrated by Pauline Baynes)

 

 

    Pauline Baynes. The Song of the Three Holy Children (1986) A beautifully illustrated hymn from the Apocrypha, beginning O all ye works of the Lord, bless ye the Lord: Praise him and magnify him for ever. It’s an addition to the Daniel, each verse names of lists one of the works of the Lord. Baynes had a good career as an illustrator, good enough that she could choose projects like this one. She adapts her style to the text, in this case alluding to medieval paintings and book illustrations. She has an eye for the telling line, and loves bright colours. Her books are always a pleasure to look at.

     A lovely example of the book as object. ***

 

A Comic Alphabet for 19th century children

     Amelia Frances Howard Gibbon. An Illustrated Comic Alphabet (Designed 1859. Published 1966). Howard Gibbon was a teacher who designed this alphabet to help her charges learn their letters. The manuscript was donated to the Osborne and Lillian H. Smith Collection of the Toronto Public Library, who arranged publication by Oxford University Press. It’s a charming alphabet, firmly in the style of children’s book illustration of the mid 19th century.
     It illustrates a well-known rhyme, “A is for Archer, who shot at a Frog....” Except for the ones explicitly named as women, the figures are all boys about 10 years old, dressed up in suitable costumes, standing or performing in equally suitable landscapes. The text is beautifully rendered in a fanciful typeface, with the initial letters coloured red. Well done. I wonder why Howard Gibbon did not publish her manuscript.
     She has an interesting history. Granddaughter of the 11th duke of Norfolk, and a cousin of Edward Gibbon (author of The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire), she emigrated to Canada with her widowed mother. This book’s endnote has more details. The book was published by and for the Friends of the Osborne Collection. I was a member for a few years in the 1970s. The Friends have issued reprints of several classic children’s books in the collection. I don’t know if they’ve published other manuscripts. This book rates ****.

Sid Fleischman. The Whipping Boy (1986)

     Sid Fleischman. The Whipping Boy (1986) Jemmy is Prince Brat’s whipping boy. Since he’s whipped when Brat doesn’t do his lessons, Jemmy learns reading, arithmetic, history, and so on. One day, bored, Brat forces Jemmy to run away with him.  They’re kidnapped by two highwaymen, escape down a sewer, are rescued by a girl with pet dancing bear, and so on. Brat slowly grows from a spoiled little slime ball into a friend. He even endures a whipping without a whimper, as Jemmy has done. When they return, Brat talks to his father, who decides not to punish Jemmy. So all’s well etc.
     Well written, swift moving story. Jemmy is an engaging narrator, unwillingly loyal to his master. **½

Boswell Taylor, ed. Ships: Picture Teach Yourself (1977)

     Boswell Taylor, ed. Ships: Picture Teach Yourself (1977) One of a series of “project books” intended to give primary and middle school students information on some subject. It was assembled at a time when giving students “projects” to do was the vogue, and no doubt many students picked up all kinds of oddments of knowledge and perhaps even general insights. Children of primary and middle school age love to accumulate facts, so this book no doubt found some happy readers.
     The book consists of many black and white illustrations of watercraft, many of them reproductions original sources such as stone carvings. The brief well-crafted captions waste no words. Reading it from beginning to end in one go will give you a pretty good overview of the development of watercraft and their uses in transport and trade. Nicely done, but sadly obsolescent if not obsolete when people believe that a few clicks will give them reliable information.
     It takes less than an hour to read and look at every item in this book; and exploring the questions it raises could prompt historical interests. It no doubt had just that effect on some of its readers. I liked it. **½

Kenneth Graham. Der Wind in den Weiden (1976)

     Kenneth Graham. Der Wind in den Weiden (1976) Translated by Harry Rowohlt. It’s odd to read Wind in the Willows in German. At first, I read this to see how the translator managed Graham`s cosy informal style, one carefully crafted to mimic the language of its intended audience of Young Readers. But very soon the tale itself captured me, as it did so many years ago when I first read it while recovering from the mumps. Well done. The illustrations are by the artist who drew the main cels for Yellow Submarine, but they lack the firmness and clarity of line found in that wonderful movie.
     A major problem when translating English into other languages is grammatical gender, which does affect how the reader imagines the fictive world. ‘Rat’ translates into ‘die Ratte’, feminine noun: it’s odd to read of a feminine Rat, who is so definitely an elder brother figure; much easier to imagine in the English version. At least ‘Toad’ translates into the masculine noun ‘Kröterich’. *** (2011)

Nicola Davies and Neal Layton. Poop (2004)

   

 Nicola Davies and Neal Layton. Poop (2004) Nicely written and illustrated introduction to the subject, with an emphasis on its ecological importance. Lots of interesting and odd facts, chosen to astonish and amuse the children who are the intended audience. **½ (2008)

Mordecai Richler. Jacob Two-Two and the Hooded Fang (1975)

     Mordecai Richler. Jacob Two-Two and the Hooded Fang (1975) I finally read this book, years after it appeared and made a splash. It’s awful. If this book were written by anyone other than Richler, it would not have been published, or else it would have been heavily edited. The ostensible audience is children from K to about grade 2, which means it must sound well read aloud. It doesn’t. Richler seems to think that funny names, CAPITAL LETTERS, and elaborate explanations of the obvious are the difference between adult and children’s books. Not so. The plot of this book is lame, the style is pedestrian, the characterisation is cardboardy as can be. If this book resulted from Richler’s attempts at bed-time stories for his children, too bad for his kids. Ugh! (2007)

Gertrude Chandler Warner. The Boxcar Children (1942)

     Gertrude Chandler Warner. The Boxcar Children (1942) A teacher, Warner wanted to write an interesting  story for beginning readers. She succeeded. Her readers loved the independence of the children in the story. Orphans  Henry, Violet, Jessie, and Benny Alden are on the run because they don’t want to be found by their grandfather, whom they believe to be a mean man. They find a boxcar to live in, and a wounded dog for company. Henry, who is old enough to do so, goes into town to work part-time for a doctor, who eventually reunites them all with their grandfather, who is anything but mean. So they live happily ever after. Except that the readers wanted more stories about these children. Warner obliged with a string of mysteries; eighteen more books are listed here. This edition dates from1950, with well done silhouetted illustrations by Kate Deal.
     Warner’s style is simple and straightforward, as is her narrative, which she spices up with a few hints of possible dangers and events that aren’t explained until the end of the tale. She glides over a few improbabilities (less improbable then than now), and the characterisation is about as simple as can be. A good deal of the story is carried by dialogue. I’m not surprised that beginning readers enjoyed the book, and wanted more. I suspect that Warner’s skills improved, and would like to find a later book to see whether that in fact happened. *** (2007)

Alison Baird. The Dragon’s Egg (1994)

     Alison Baird. The Dragon’s Egg (1994) Baird has a nice idea, but her sense of narrative is weak. Mr Lien returns from China with a present for his daughter Ai: a rock he picked up on the shore of the Yangtze River. It is in fact a dragon’s egg, and when it hatches, Ai has a friend to help her overcome the sad feelings caused by a bully at school. The dragon, Ling Tau, is the eldest son of the King of Dragons. When he reaches maturity, he takes her to his palace under the waters of the Yangtze, where she is suitably rewarded; and the dragons will be her friends for the rest of her life. Dragons can shape-change, as well as command the weather, etc, so there is opportunity for a good deal of poetic justice. The grownups of course refuse to believe that Ai’s friend is real, but that just helps him hide his true nature. Baird’s dialogue is good, but she doesn’t use it often; she tells too much, and doesn’t show enough. Still, a nice story for the tweenagers. Bria (11) liked it. ** (2006)

Frank Barrett. Where was Wonderland? (1997)

     Frank Barrett. Where was Wonderland? (1997) A traveller’s guide to places and locations related to classic children’s stories, almost all British. Good enough as tour guide, but only just. The maps suffer from a lack of scale, the bios from a lack of telling detail. Why do publisher's think that children's non-fiction needn't be made and edited to the same standard as that intended for adults? * (2005)

‘BB’ The Forest of Boland Light Railway (1955)

     ‘BB’ The Forest of Boland Light Railway (1955) In this fantasy, written for children, the gnomes build a Railway to help them get their gold from the mine. Their mortal enemies, the leprechauns, attack, are defeated, attack again, win, and are finally routed with the help of the cowzies. The whole thing is a bit odd, an strange mix of twee daintiness, with coy references to wombies (female gnomes) and gombies (gnome children), and allusions to quite brutal doings. The gnomes are not cute looking little old men a la Disney, but the real thing, with large noses and ears and hair, lots of hair.
    The book has inspired at least one modeller, Andrew McLellan, to build a layout, see:
http://www.countrysidemodels.co.uk/gallery_boland/fobmain.htm
     but Andrew did not follow BB’s lead and make a quasi-GWR narrow- gauge loco, and decided that the locos must be more along the lines of Blenkinsop's and other pre-Stephenson products. The book seems to have a cult following, or rather the author does, for he also committed a lot of nature writing of the kind that is gently mocked by Evelyn Waugh in Scoop, as far as I can make out. I likely won’t ever read this book again, but it does inspire thoughts of a fantastic narrow gauge layout. ** (2005)

James Thurber. The 13 Clocks (1950)

     James Thurber. The 13 Clocks (1950) A strange and wonderful little fairy tale, packaged as a children’s book, but I think more than satisfying for adults. Prince Zorn, disguised as Xingu, a wandering minstrel, must find a thousand jewels and restart the 13 clocks that have frozen at 5 minutes to 2, else he will die at the hands of the Duke, which is bad enough, and lose the fair hand of the Princess Saralinda, which is worse. With the help of a Golux he accomplishes his task, but not before a string of outrageous puns and sly allusions to other fairy tales threaten to derail the plot. But the plot is craftily plotted, and Zorn and Saralinda ride off on two white horses, while the Duke suffers a well-deserved and ignominious end. Another book to try out on Bria. *** (2005)

Susan Pearson The Tap Dance Mystery (1990)

     Susan Pearson The Tap Dance Mystery (1990) “Eagle Eye Ernie”, aka Ernestine Jones, is the Sleuth of, um, er, Grade Two? That’s about right, I think, considering the reading level of this nicely done “Book for Young Readers”, as Simon and Schuster touts it. Ernie has to find out who stole Marcey’s tap dancing shoes, after Marcey has made herself very unpopular with her bossy and superior ways. She is supposed to teach Ernie’s group how to tap dance, you see. Well, in the end, Ernie finds the shoes, hidden in the piano. And Marcey turns out to be OK, and Jason turns out to be a better tapper than Marcey, and Marcey admits it. And Ernie’s group (with Marcey and Jason leading) put on a great performance. So that’s all right.
     I have no idea how early readers would respond to this carefully “correct” story, with the boys and girls doing the same kinds of things, and everyone finally all lovey-dovey. The book was a discard from the Blind River Public Library, but it looks well and often read. ** (2005)

S. A. Wakefield. Bottersnikes and Gumbles (1967)

     S. A. Wakefield. Bottersnikes and Gumbles (1967) Bottersnikes are nasty, scale beasts with sharp teeth, and their ears turn red hot when they are angry (which is most of the time). Red-hot ears are useful for starting fires. They live in garbage dumps and are very, very lazy. This deprives them of the comforts of life, so they are very, very bad tempered. Gumbles are agreeable, soft and furry, and squishy. They giggle a lot, and live in the bush, where they chat, play games, soak up the sun, and do just enough work to feel comfortable. Bottersnikes want Gumbles to work for them, so they put them in jam tins. Gumbles occasionally get away from the Bottersnikes, but as soon as they get the giggles, they are helpless, and the Bottersnikes put them in jam tins again. And so on.
     This is a Puffin book, designed to make eight-year-olds giggle like Gumbles, I suppose. However, the premise promises more than it delivers. The humour is strained and contrived as often as not, and the stories don’t have much point. That’s probably why this book never had a sequel, and its characters never showed up on TV. The author is Australian. Maybe the book’s humour is too Aussie for me. * (2002)