Subtitle: A sequel to A Little Princess

Recommended by: Badgerbag

My copy of A Little Princess (yes, I still have it) is dated 1982, but I think I read it before then from the library. As a young girl grieving, surviving and in need of rescue, I connected deeply with the story of young Sara Crewe and [...]]]>

Subtitle: A sequel to A Little Princess

Recommended by: Badgerbag

My copy of A Little Princess (yes, I still have it) is dated 1982, but I think I read it before then from the library. As a young girl grieving, surviving and in need of rescue, I connected deeply with the story of young Sara Crewe and the maid Becky grieving, surviving and being rescued.

This sequel, written not by Frances Hodgson Burnett but by Hilary McKay 100 years later, follows the secondary characters at Miss Minchins Select Seminary for Girls after Sara’s departure. It is a much lighter wish-fulfillment book, plot driven, with one note characters. We are told about their emotions, but they don’t resonate.

The new maid, Alice, takes no nonsense from her employers and refuses to live in the attic, not-so-subtly implying that Becky just needed to stand up for herself. Of course, Alice is in London to “see the sights” and has a loving family to return to if her employment doesn’t work out, unlike Becky who had nowhere to turn.

A Little Princess was about finding resources within and choosing our behavior in hard times. Wishing for Tomorrow, aptly named, seems to be about marking time until everything works out.

Available at Powell’s Books.

I’m a lifetime fan of Maurice Sendak. I still have my childhood copy of “Where the Wild Things Are.” I bought “We are All in the Dumps with Jack and Guy” when it came out in 1993, but I hadn’t looked at it in years. I pulled it off the shelf today and read it twice, [...]]]>

I’m a lifetime fan of Maurice Sendak. I still have my childhood copy of “Where the Wild Things Are.” I bought “We are All in the Dumps with Jack and Guy” when it came out in 1993, but I hadn’t looked at it in years. I pulled it off the shelf today and read it twice, puzzling.

Two obscure nursery rhymes are tied together to form a loose structure for the story told in pictures. Children of varied skin colors, including white Jack and Guy, live in a shantytown of cardboard boxes. Adult-size rats steal their kittens and a brown-skinned toddler. The moon intervenes as a huge cat, rescuing the kittens and baby, which Jack and Guy adopt.

The kids wrap themselves in newspapers which have clearly legible headlines about real estate prices and consumerism in one illustration, and layoffs and homelessness in another. Even though this book was published almost 20 years ago, it is painfully apt today.

From this link I learned that Maurice Sendak’s parents were Jews who emigrated from Poland, and that he is gay. From this link I learned that the Wild Things are based on the relatives who visited when he was a child.

This book evokes relief because it does not pretend everything is okay, even as it introduces hope and rescue. At the same time, the disjointed, allusive story leaves me puzzled, unsettled.

Edited to add: A recent interview with Maurice Sendak.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Illustrated by: Maurice Sendak

Recommended by: rushthatspeaks

In the afterword, written December 1966, W. H. Auden says, “To me, George MacDonald’s most extraordinary, and precious, gift is his ability, in all his stories, to create an atmosphere of goodness about which there is nothing phony or moralistic.”

My experience of this brief book was the opposite. I saw [...]]]>

Illustrated by: Maurice Sendak

Recommended by: rushthatspeaks

In the afterword, written December 1966, W. H. Auden says, “To me, George MacDonald’s most extraordinary, and precious, gift is his ability, in all his stories, to create an atmosphere of goodness about which there is nothing phony or moralistic.”

My experience of this brief book was the opposite. I saw goodness equated with whiteness several times, and also with beauty. I saw a moralistic and wholly unnecessary aside about cleanliness.

In the (lovely) illustrations, the girl is always leaning on someone or being led or rescued, where the boy is alone or leading or standing sturdily as he talks with someone. The only exception is the last image, where she sits waiting and he approaches.

For all of that it is a whimsical, lilting story, quickly read, with deeper themes of long seeking, endurance, and transformation.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Recommended by: Mely’s evocative review

A nearly wordless picture book filled with intricate oil and acrylic paintings showing a small, lonely girl’s inner world. A red leaf lies somewhere on each page. Searching for it led me deeper into the paintings’ quirky details.

To Mely, it’s about depression. To one child, it was about worries. [...]]]>

Recommended by: Mely’s evocative review

A nearly wordless picture book filled with intricate oil and acrylic paintings showing a small, lonely girl’s inner world. A red leaf lies somewhere on each page. Searching for it led me deeper into the paintings’ quirky details.

To Mely, it’s about depression. To one child, it was about worries. To me, it looks like the effect of child abuse, splitting from one’s own body and feeling disconnected from the world.

Highly recommended.

See the author’s website for more images from the book and discussion about it.

Available at Powell’s Books as part of the newly released Lost and Found omnibus edition.

Recommended by: an adult who loved it as a child

This book was published in 1980, back when I was in its target age group of pre-teen kids. I don’t know what I would have thought of it then, but it didn’t go over well in 2010.

Katie, age 9, has silver eyes, telekinetic powers, and an [...]]]>

Recommended by: an adult who loved it as a child

This book was published in 1980, back when I was in its target age group of pre-teen kids. I don’t know what I would have thought of it then, but it didn’t go over well in 2010.

Katie, age 9, has silver eyes, telekinetic powers, and an unchildlike self-control. The book does some exploration of what it’s like to be different and lonely. Mainly, though, Katie uses her powers to sneakily hurt bullies. In other words, she behaves like a bully herself. This is neither acknowledged nor discussed in the book.

One chapter was so offensive it knocked me right out of the story. Katie got rid of one babysitter, and her next babysitter is “grossly fat” and the author indulges in every possible negative stereotype about fat people. In addition to being blatantly offensive, it’s bad writing – it reads as if she needed an extra chapter and pulled out a cardboard stereotype instead of doing the work of creating a nuanced secondary character.

I would not recommend this book to readers of any age.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Recommended by: Marissa Lingen

The title sounded familiar and I thought I read it as a child, but the story itself didn’t ring any bells. Published in 1957, the book features two half-grown kids interacting with two elderly people living in abandoned summer homes, surrounded by lots of nature and lots of kindness.

Portia visits her cousin [...]]]>

Recommended by: Marissa Lingen

The title sounded familiar and I thought I read it as a child, but the story itself didn’t ring any bells. Published in 1957, the book features two half-grown kids interacting with two elderly people living in abandoned summer homes, surrounded by lots of nature and lots of kindness.

Portia visits her cousin Julian for the summer, way out in the country. At 11 and 12 years old, they blithely leave the house every morning to visit their new friends at Gone-Away Lake and don’t return until dinner, without accounting for their time to Julian’s parents.

Portia and Julian are close friends without a trace of romance or self-consciousness. They only quarrel once, late in the book. Although the quarrel seems resolved, they each spend more time with friends of their own gender after that.

There is some emphasis on the stereotypes of girls being afraid more often and talking more, and boys liking construction and dirt more. At the same time, the stereotypes are gently questioned by the boys admitting to being afraid too, and the girls exploring right along with them.

Minnehaha and Pindar live peacefully in abandoned houses beside the marsh which used to be Lake Tarrigo, without most modern conveniences. Their day to day activities gently question our assumptions about what is necessary for happiness.

It’s a relief to read a book about emotionally healthy people enjoying their world and each other.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Recommended by: childhood memories

After reading Finn Family Moomintroll recently, I was inspired to seek out Moominland Midwinter, which I also vaguely remembered from childhood.

It’s a quick read, and contrasts quite a bit with the earlier book. The mood is bleaker, as befits a northern winter, and the relationships between characters are more superficial and troubled. [...]]]>

Recommended by: childhood memories

After reading Finn Family Moomintroll recently, I was inspired to seek out Moominland Midwinter, which I also vaguely remembered from childhood.

It’s a quick read, and contrasts quite a bit with the earlier book. The mood is bleaker, as befits a northern winter, and the relationships between characters are more superficial and troubled. The kindness is still there, even when they don’t understand each other very well.

I am relieved to report that there are several strong, independent female characters in this book, including brave little My, careening about on skis.

My favorite character is the troll ancestor, who holes up in the porcelain stove and sends the occasional flake of soot down as commentary.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Recommended by: Ursula Le Guin, while reviewing “The True Deceiver”

I stumbled across Finn Family Moomintroll in my elementary school’s library as a child, and didn’t really know what to make of it, but loved the image of the snow falling, and the creatures curling up safely for the winter.

Re-reading it now, I still love the first [...]]]>

Recommended by: Ursula Le Guin, while reviewing “The True Deceiver”

I stumbled across Finn Family Moomintroll in my elementary school’s library as a child, and didn’t really know what to make of it, but loved the image of the snow falling, and the creatures curling up safely for the winter.

Re-reading it now, I still love the first chapter where everyone is settling in to sleep for the winter. I also noticed and appreciated this unusual beginning which seems like an ending.

“Everyone” includes Moomintroll, a small endearing creature with a round belly and a big nose, his parents Moominmamma and Moominpappa, and a varied assortment of long-term visitors. When spring comes, they have adventures that always turn out well, in part because of their kindness and positive assumptions about everyone they meet.

The complex household personalities and relationships shine throughout the stories, lightly shown in every interaction. Aside from the occasional scuffle over personal agendas, they show each other great care and tolerance for quirkiness, demonstrating the best of communal living.

The book was first published in Finland in 1948, and was translated into English in 1958. For the most part it has aged beautifully, but its treatment of females is archaic. Moominmamma is primarily concerned with feeding everyone and with keeping track of her handbag, which contains “dry socks and sweets and string and tummy-powder and so on.” The only other female character, the Snork Maiden, does not have her own name (she is the Snork’s sister), and her main activities are flirting with Moomintroll, and getting emotional and irrational about her appearance.

On the positive side, the Hemulen is male, but wears a dress, and no one has a problem with that. Interestingly, I clearly remembered the Hemulen as female from reading the book as a child.

Perhaps my memory gave more weight to the author’s detailed pen and ink illustrations than the pronouns. The map of Moomin Valley at the beginning shows tiny objects and events from each chapter’s adventures. The drawings throughout the book complement the multi-sensory descriptions in the text.

I’m looking forward to reading “The True Deceiver,” which is Tove Jansson’s just-published book for adults. I’m hoping that in the intervening years she has changed how she writes about women.

Available at Powell’s Books.

Recommended by: Susan Reagel

With its full-page drawings, brief text, and animal characters in the Australian wilderness, “Fox” is in a children’s book format, but it is an adult book in disguise. How many children’s books begin with despair over loss and disability, move through partnership and betrayal, and end with the determination to do what [...]]]>

Recommended by: Susan Reagel

With its full-page drawings, brief text, and animal characters in the Australian wilderness, “Fox” is in a children’s book format, but it is an adult book in disguise. How many children’s books begin with despair over loss and disability, move through partnership and betrayal, and end with the determination to do what it takes to surmount mistakes?

At first I was impatient with the hand-lettered text, some of it pasted in sideways on the page. I was soon drawn in to the active, expressive, textured drawings and the raw, honest, emotionally vivid story of one-eyed Dog, burnt-winged Magpie, and lonely, jealous Fox.

Find this book. Read it, look at it, take in its many-layered message of survival, compassion, and hope.

Available at Powell’s Books.