'The Little Wooden Horse': Adventures on my kids' bookshelf

Gruffalo To The Max

2012-02-27T12:07:00.000Z

Don't worry. I'm not going to introduce you to a little known struggling title called 'The Gruffalo' today:
It's just possible that you may have already come across it.

I've just come back from Eddie's 'Inspire' lesson this morning however and it made me reflect on how central that book has been in inspiring his passion for words: Today is something of a hymn of praise to the Magnum Opus of Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler therefore (and a silent prayer for the time that they will be allowed to be a slightly less constant presence in our lives.)

In the Inspire workshop we were asked to make wooden spoon puppets with our children. I wasn't surprised to hear Eddie's choice of what to make today; he's been back in full-on Gruffalo fever since Christmas when the charming 'The Gruffalo's Child' animation was on the telly. I have been quite surprised by the depth of this fever this time around though. It's a bit like chicken pox- he had a very strong dose of it in his two to threes and I thought he wouldn't catch it twice.

I can't quite remember the origins of his first bout of fever but I suppose it's the book that he latched onto after 'Hooray For Fish' had been sucked dry. We read it several times a day for a while and then it joined him in bed where we would hear Eddie going through it and reciting the story again after lights out. After a while we realised he was teaching himself to read with it. He knew the story word perfectly and would go through the book slowly word by word with his finger to the text matching his knowledge to the shapes he found. He was very methodical and as he appears to be lucky enough to have a semi-photographic memory it was pretty efficient too. 'The Gruffalo' wasn't the only book he used in this way but it was the first to be ingrained I think. The words are certainly deeply ingrained in my head too.
He also had 'The Gruffalo' magnet book and for a while he would need all the (very very small) magnets of the characters to also be with him at bedtime which led to some midnight panics when the mouse slipped under his pillow or similar.

This time around life has been made easier by the existence of ever increasing amounts of Gruffalo merchandise. Eddie found the plush models of the characters in a book shop and refused to be parted from them. Luckily he had some Christmas money of his own to spend. Now they accompany him around the house along with both books, as backdrop and audience to whatever else he is doing/reading. Occasionally we build houses for them. Sometimes they need breakfast provided but normally they're fairly undemanding house guests.

His reading of 'The Gruffalo' has taken on new layers of textual analysis as he pores over each page anew. "Mum- it says here 'down by these rocks' but the picture only has one rock in it...where is the other rock Mum?"
"Is the Gruffalo really a baddy who becomes a goody or a goody who can be a baddy Mum?"
"Will the Gruffalo's Child's bumps become prickles when she is a teenager? Will she get a poisonous wart one day?" "Why is she a butterscotch colour when her dad is chocolate brown?"

These are the questions which I field daily, normally whilst staring at the fridge blankly for inspiration for the next meal.
As I say, whilst fully appreciative of the quality of the Work and all it has given my son- I won't be sorry when the fever passes once more (although that may depend, of course, on what replaces it...).

In the mean time we made a cracking Gruffalo spoon puppet if I do say so myself (no picture alas).

Team Gruffalo.

'The Gruffalo' by (you don't really need me to tell you this do you?) Julia Donaldson, illus. Axel Scheffler,
pub. Macmillan, isbn 0-333-71093-2

Friday diversion

2012-02-24T11:38:00.000Z

Not a book review today; a mini moan- only a mini one mind. I've just returned from doing an 'Impact' session with Bill at his school.

These are termly events where parents come in for an hour to work one on one with their child in a workshop focusing on either literacy or numeracy skills. They're actually pretty fun and a nice opportunity to catch up with classroom dynamics and the skills of Bill's teachers.

Last term's session was on numeracy and was really about teaching us parents that they Don't Do it like we used to Any More. We were shown how to use a number square in some depth- no 'carrying over' apparently. I came away both informed and impressed and much better equipped to help Bill out. Good.

Today's was focused on developing writing skills. I have to say I found this a tad depressing.

It wasn't any fault of the session itself, which was fun and lively and well led; it was more confronting full on the reality of a SATS/National Curriculum approach to Creativity in all it's full glory in our otherwise funky and imaginative school.

We were introduced to 'The Story Mountain' and the children shared their knowledge with enthusiasm. Apparently all stories must have an Opening- where character and setting are established, followed by Build Up where events give clues as to what will happen, leading to Problem (the summit)- something goes wrong, then Resolution; the problem gets sorted and finally, Ending- the characters look back at the story and what they have learned.

But all stories don't work like that! In fact many of the best entirely subvert it don't they? Yesterday's read for starters. This point seemed underlined to me when the next thing we did was read 'Winnie the Witch' which proved quite hard to categorise neatly as it contains a number of Problems and false Resolutions. As Bill commented trying to plot the story arc, "It's more of a wobbly topped jelly or a castle than a mountain I think".

We were also given a set of vocabulary expanding 'WOW' words and 'approved' different ways of starting sentences to incorporate in our stories.

I realise I'm being slightly unfair (it is only a mini moan) as you have to understand the conventions fully first before you attempt the subversion. See Picasso. It was just a bit of a jolt. When we were doing the numeracy session I was entirely happy to be given the 'rules' and told how to help my child apply them- so why should it stick in my craw to apply the same to the literacy? Probably because I've been reading Michael Rosen's blog and what he talks about much more eloquently than me here and I sort of trust him more than Michael Gove.

In the end Bill and I had a lovely time with our story props of Ninja, bat and forest creating a story of blood sucking baddies and a Deep Dark Forest where an ancient line of raised-by-the-animals ninja babies must defend its secret treasure tree. I'll just have to make sure that when he writes it up properly it obeys all the conventions and makes a nice mountain or I'll be a Bad Parent. Yawn.

A Boy and a Bear in a Boat

2012-02-23T11:16:00.000Z

I'm in danger of spiralling out of control into dribbly, hysterical and ever-so-slightly scary fandom today. Just slap me about the face a bit if I'm going on too much. I could be like one of those posters you see outside West End theatres that probably shouldn't be taken too literally:

'(This book is) JUST RUDDY BRILLIANT!! RIOT, STAB, MAIM or KILL to get a copy!!!' Polly, Little Wooden Horse.

Don't obviously. But do really seriously consider simply buying or borrowing a copy of Dave Shelton's 'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' from bookshop or library. It is a thing of great beauty and just about unrivaled charm. I think/hope it might do very well and then you'll be able to say You Were There and Knew First.

It is not like any other children's book I have read, in that the title really tells you everything you need to know about the book. I am used to books for Bill that cram excitement after excitement into each incident packed chapter: The 'Billy Bonkers' approach for example which I reviewed here and of which I am also fond. 'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' by contrast takes a boy and puts him into um, a boat which is rowed by, you guessed it, a bear and sets them on a voyage through an (almost) featureless sea and sky. It is the relationship between the three which is the story.
Guess what. Bill was enthralled despite the lack of 'Ishallmakeyouwanttoturnthepagenow', in your face plot punchers.

Not that nothing happens. The boy and the bear play 'I spy' a lot and find an incomprehensible foreign comic. There's a nasty incident with a sandwich and some slightly hairy fishing amongst other stuff. How to make a proper cup of tea turns out to be quite important. In between there's the development of a lovely dialogue between boy and bear familiar to any parent who has ever taken their children on a long journey. Rarely has boredom been so interestingly documented.
Here's a chapter read by the author to give you a flavour.

The book is also a beautiful thing to look at and hold. It has a controversially restrained, tea stained map cover and the story is scattered with illustrations and some double spreads by the author; who is also a comic artist. It sits in the hand very comfortably. The sort of book that you sniff and stroke if you're a bit of a weirdo...

The husband read this fresh to Bill. He's always enjoyed Magnus Mills' novels of which this is reminiscent in style. They both giggled all the way through and it was lovely to watch them both (I'd sneakily read ahead). We all really looked forward to bedtime for the next installment whilst it was on the go. There have been few books that have brought all of us together for enjoyment so successfully. We gave away a copy as a birthday present for a friend yesterday and it was great to hear Bill's passionate endorsement: 'It's really, really funny. You're gonna love it!'
Not just me see? Hope you're writing another one Mr. Shelton, no pressure or anything.

'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' by Dave Shelton, pub. David Fickling books, isbn 978-0-385-61896-0

Ricky Ricotta

2012-02-22T11:15:00.000Z

Bill is, like many other boys his age, a big Dav Pilkey fan, gobbling through all the 'Captain Underpants' books in the space of a fortnight, and regularly haunting his website for news of forthcoming releases and to play unsuitable games involving animated poo. Captain Underpants and Super Diaper Baby are also probably responsible for getting Bill interested in doing some drawing; a habit I'm glad to see increasing at the moment.

The first Dav Pilkey books he enjoyed however and indeed probably the first 'chapter' books he read were the 'Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot' series, illustrated by Martin Ontiveros. They're a great starting point for enthusing early readers who want to feel grown up or for older, less confident readers who need a boost. They also feature live 'flip-o-rama' action at regular points in the story enabling the animation of real fighting. Cool.

Ricky Ricotta is a mouse who lives in Squeakyville and has some bully problems until he befriends the giant robot created to do evil by the dastardly Dr. Stinky. Together they defeat Dr Stinky and his new monstrous Hate Lizard, save Squeakyville and become the most popular pair in the school. That's about it really.

Told in 14 chapters each of under 100 words- this is a book that is easy to read but feels ambitious and empowering to the reader. Useful stuff. There are seven more books, each featuring a different terrifying threat from our neighbouring planets. Ricky and his robot variously defeat (amongst others) the Stupid Stinkbugs from Saturn, the Jurassic Jack Rabbits from Jupiter, The Mutant Mosquitoes from Mercury and (my favourite) the Uranium Unicorns from Uranus (who knew?). It's formulaic- but hey who cares? If you're struggling to find the key to unlock the joys of trash fiction to your 5/6/7/8 year old, this might just do the job.

'Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot' written Dav Pilkey, illustrated Martin Ontiveros,
pub. Scholastic isbn 1407107585

Whatever

2012-02-21T10:35:00.000Z

A small but perfectly formed cautionary tale from William Bee today in the form of 'Whatever'.

This is a book we've had since Bill was a baby. I confess I bought it for the trivial reason that the 'hero' is a bald boy called Billy who is a mini-me of his bald Dad. At the time, Baby Bill was a hairless infant and his Dad has been similarly challenged since his early 20s. (I tell Bill now to enjoy his hair whilst he can...he'll have it for about 15 more years by my calculations)(luckily they both have lovely shaped heads ;)) Both Billy and his Dad are also extremely well dressed in matching suits which tickled me too; the husband has something of a Tailor-made suit habit.

Be warned; this is a deeply sarcastic, moody read with a dark ending. Whilst superficially for the under 5's I suppose, it has a proper sulky adolescent air about it. We all love it- being ourselves a sarky bunch- but you may disapprove. It's funny!

Billy is a grumpy un-impressible small boy. His father tries hard to show him the wonders of the world in ever- increasing escalation; the world's curliest trumpet, the world's bounciest castle, the world's steamiest train...Billy's response is always the same; 'Whatever'.

Finally Billy's dad shows him the world's hungriest tiger.

He probably should have been more impressed that time.

The book is extremely well designed- in itself as stylish as Billy and his Dad. Every aspect of it is perfectly balanced. William Bee's website is one of my favourites and will give you the measure of both his wit and control. I suspect he may not like children in the abstract very much at all.

But nobody gets to say 'whatever' in this house without a raised eyebrow and a giggle.

'Whatever' by William Bee, pub. Walker isbn 1-4063-0133-7

like it or don't- whatever.

Big-Top Benn

2012-02-20T11:10:00.001Z

Children back to school and so normal service can resume; I realise you may miss Eddie's angelic nose picking- he'll be back I'm sure.

Today I am racked by the notion that I am over six weeks into this blog and have featured no David McKee yet! What was I thinking?

'Mr Benn' fever was a passion that gripped Eddie a year or so ago and at it's height involved watching all ?13 episodes of the 70's tv series back-to-back on a daily basis whilst clutching and reading along with his Mr Benn books and requiring my complete focus to assist in the matter of completing his 500 piece Mr Benn jigsaw. These passions come and go for the boy (at the moment it's all about the Gruffalo (again), Michael Rosen and CBeebies Gigglebiz) but it's fair to say when he's a fan of something he's really a fan. At some point I'm guessing he will progress on to the 'Lord of the Rings' and then God help us all.

For anyone who doesn't know him, Mr Benn is an ordinary bowler hatted bachelor who escapes his suburban life in different adventures by means of a magic fancy dress shop that has a portal in its changing room. I loved to watch 'Mr Benn' as a child and bought the DVD first- really for myself more than my children; a nostalgia-fest. Eddie's immediate enthusiasm was both surprising and gratifying. Apparently children are broadly the same creatures now as they were in circa 1975! Who'da thunk it? I'll confess though I hadn't realised either at the time or as an adult that Mr Benn actually started life as a series of books. This is an interesting one then- we all came to the books through the medium of the screen first.

Obviously there are plenty of people for whom that's the only way they ever come to a book; whether through a love of Disney Princesses or the 'novelisation' of a Ben10 episode. Nothing wrong in that per se, but I would normally try and always start with the source material first (whether that just means actually watching Ben10 or stopping poor Bill from seeing any Harry Potter films before he's ready to read the books). I'm a little shame faced that I got it the wrong way round here. Plain snobbery really.

The confusion was exacerbated by the fact that the first (out of print) Mr Benn books I managed to get hold of for Eddie were actually re-developed post TV show. He loved them as a faithful replica but they weren't particularly visually exciting to me. But THEN. Oh Joy! Eddie's obsession coincided with the thirtieth anniversary of Mr Benn and two of the original books were reissued as new. 'Big Top Benn' is one of these.

It's a completely different beast to the other Benn books we have. The story is basically the same as the equivalent 'clown' TV episode but the language of the text is richer and not written to the precise formula of the redeveloped books. As in all Mr Benn stories (and most David McKee stories come to that) there is a moral that peaceful collaboration will always triumph over ego. The pictures are just glorious. A combination of intricate black and white pen work and pleasingly 'imperfect' rich painted double spreads; they present a semi 3D take on Mr Benn's adventure which repay sustained looking. I find it interesting that they have a quality of moving narrative in themselves; almost anticipating their second life, as we see the characters several times within one picture visually advancing the story.

So, here's your comparison point. First the book:

and now the TV episode (you'll need a cup of tea and a biscuit).

Both lovely.

Even if the nostalgia means nothing to you because Mr Benn was not part of your own childhood I would say 'Big Top Benn' might deserve a place on your bookshelf.

'Big Top Benn' by David McKee, pub Tate publishing, isbn 978-1-85437-961-0

I have to say I have now thoroughly addled myself as now I look properly it says it was first published in 1980- which post dates the TV show- although it also says it inspired it. Chicken or egg all over again. Can anyone help?

Cumulus who writes here at http://green-pastures-new.blogspot.com/ about the pleasures and challenges of bringing up her three sons with additional needs in NZ was kind enough to nominate me for a Leibster Award this weekend. This is an award which draws attention to us smaller bloggers and invites us to pass on our own awards having been nominated. I've been a bit stumped about this part of the equation as there is no doubt there is no smaller/newer blog than this one! I'm also aware that those I might nominate have already had a Leibster. Can I invite you instead in honour of this achievement to have a gander at the Blog List to the side and follow your nose to somewhere new in the world of children's books today? You'll enjoy it.

Mixed up Fairy Tales

2012-02-16T20:32:00.000Z

Half term and lucky-devil-away-gallivanting husband dictates ready meal and another quick post tonight.

Despite their 'for the girls' reputation traditional fairy tales have always been very popular in this house. So has Nick Sharratt. The two in combination are pretty irresistable. Following a trip to the Puppet Theatre yesterday to see Norwich Puppet Theatre's spooky, back-to-roots production of 'Red Riding Hood' we found ourselves falling into a bookshop once again on the way home and walking out once again (ahem) with a discreet package ('3 for 2'- it would have been rude not to!). 'Asterix and the Olympic Games' and 'Super Diaper Baby 2' were our other 'bargains' but Hilary Robinson and Nick Sharratt's 'Mixed Up Fairy Tales' was what I at least was really after.

One of the wonderful things about acquiring a canon of classics as your literary backbone is of course the opportunity to re-appreciate them as they are endlessly reinvented.
Thus yesterday morning, in preparation for our theatre treat, we ended up reading the pretty trad. Hutchinson Treasury of Fairy Tales version of 'Red Riding Hood' and also Laurence Anholt's Seriously Silly 'Little Red Riding Wolf'. We took the Read it Yourself Ladybird version with us on the bus. The puppet show drew on both Perrault and the Brothers Grimm and had an ending that I'd never encountered before; with two washerwomen performing the woodcutter role of rescue (not to mention Red Riding Hood's escape by way of faking the need for a poo).

Nick Sharratt was where we ended up however- and probably just as well for the prevention of nightmares (the poo was popular but the puppet wolves definitely threatening). This book of split pages allows the retelling and mixing of 12 different traditional tales in ever more inventive- and of course silly ways. We've all been enjoying it since but particularly Master Eddie. Here he is demonstrating (he also demonstrates his efficient but not necessarily charming double nostril nose pick-please avert your eyes):

although he has yet to really get the hang of arbitrary mixing in the manner of his big bro. who finds it hysterical to end all his stories with 'a helping of porridge'. He's right actually. That is pretty funny stuff. Especially if you're marrying Cinderella to it.

'Mixed Up Fairy Tales', written Hilary Robinson, illus. Nick Sharratt, pub. Hodder isbn 978-0-340-87558

More Roald Dahl recipe fun.

2012-02-15T17:31:00.000Z

We've carried on with our adventures with boiling sugar.
First, at Bill's request from 'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory'; 'Candy Coated Pencils for sucking in Class'

Only one second degree burn sustained...definitely NOT for kids to cook on their own.

so elegant you'll agree :)

Mmm...not a lot of drawing going on.

Today- from 'James and The Giant Peach'- magic green crystals made of crocodile tongues (possibly)

Should have stirred that colouring in better. And no photo of the moment of magic adding the bicarbonate of soda but I was a bit flustered by the burning caramel.

Don't run with them!

Now what magic occurrences are going to happen overnight to us? (possibly just the loss of all our teeth)Will we still be here tomorrow? Wait and see.

Happy International Book Giving Day!

2012-02-14T13:44:00.001Z

The Proper Purpose of February 14th has been revealed: Share your love in an uncomplicated, tat-free way by a bit of literary redistribution to children known and unknown with books new, second hand or borrowed from the library.

If you missed my first post about this wonderful idea you can catch up on the details at the 'official' site here.

Our own plans have been slightly put on hold by the half term holiday, but 'North' and a few others are waiting to be donated to the boys' school. I have also ordered 'I Want my Hat Back' by Jon Klassen and 'There are No Cats in This Book' by Viv Schwartz to add to the Volunteer Reading Help stock as they seem to achieve the crucial trinity of funny/cool/easy to read. I'll feed back in future posts as to how they go down with my trio of lovely Year 1s.

For book giving to my own pair, we've shared the Love at the library this morning; using it so as not to risk losing it. (Even more valued since watching this film about the work of Book Aid International and the power of libraries to empower communities worldwide) Eddie chose 'Winston the Book Wolf' by Marni Mcgee and Ian Beck. Bill chose 'My Brother's Hot Cross Bottom' by Jeremy Strong.

Finally here are two (rather rambly- my interview technique needs some work) discussions with My Fellow Reviewers about their own feelings about today and the books they'd choose to give.

Bill

Eddie

(and just in case you think there is no conventional romance in my soul; here is my Gift of Love for the husband on his return.)

Happy February 14th!
Edited 21/02/12- Here are the new books meeting their new home in the Volunteer Reading Help Box. I think they're going to be well loved there.

Half Term Frobscottle

2012-02-13T17:10:00.000Z

Half Term this week.
That means that posting may be somewhat erratic but it will also be possible to give the floor over to my Fellow Reviewers more as we've a bit of Book Fun planned.

Eddie's turn first.
I've mentioned his Roald Dahl enthusiasm before here, so when I saw 'Roald Dahl's Completely Revolting Recipes' discounted on 'the book people' I felt it a justifiable investment. I was right. He has been poring over it since.

This is not it has to be said a recipe book heavy on vegetables and healthy eating but it's hard to resist the possibility of finally realising many of our Charlie and the Chocolate Factory dreams. It's got the recipe for Hot Ice Cream for Cold Days which may be next on our list although Bill is after the Candy-Coated Pencils for Sucking in Class. Today we made Frobscottle from 'The BFG'. I've always wanted to taste it.

'And oh gosh, how delicious it was! It was sweet and refreshing. It tasted of vanilla and cream, with just the faintest taste of raspberries on the edge of the flavour. and the bubbles were wonderful. Sophie could feel them bouncing and bursting all around her tummy. It was an amazing sensation. It felt as though hundreds of tiny people were dancing a jig inside her and tickling her with their toes.'

Here's how it went.

I actually thought it was pretty good. And a weird enough combination to feel properly Dahl crazy.

A few whizzpoppers may have been heard in the kitchen since consumption *blush*. Not from my lady bottom though obviously.

'Roald Dahl's Completely Revolting Recipes and other tasty treats', illus. Quentin Blake, pub. Random House, isbn 978-0-224-08535-9

Poetry Friday

2012-02-10T11:12:00.001Z

OK. I'm really going to attempt to get this right this week. The first week I managed a belated link to a YouTube clip without any preamble and completely forgot to either thank Jim Hill or link back to him. Last week I managed the preamble and the thanks but not the link back. I'm not a badly brought up horrid rude girl (most of the time anyway)...just slightly incompetent.

So. This week's Poetry Friday is hosted by Laura here and visit it to find lots of inspirational poems to fill your boots for the weekend. Thank you Laura!

My poetry offering today is 'The Last Steam Train to Margate' by the prolific Ian Whybrow. We were all very familiar with his 'Harry and the Dinosaur' books and his 'Little Wolf' books but I didn't know he wrote poetry too until we came upon this one in the anthology 'Read Me First', which provides a poem for every day of the year. I should point out that strictly speaking this is the poem for July 29th so we're opening our presents a bit early.
I don't suppose he'll mind. And on a day that the London skyline has turned a picturesque white once more it's nice to anticipate the beach and ice cream that will come again eventually.

'The Last Steam Train to Margate

Gosssssh
I wissssh
I were
a Bussss!
It's muchhhh
Less work
And muchhhh
Less fussss!
I shhhhhould like that
I shhhhhould like that
I shhhhhould like that
I SHHHHHOULD like that!
De-deedle-de
De-deedle-dum
Just look at me
'Cos here I come
Faster and faster
Tickerty-boo, what'll I do
Tearing along, terrible fast
Singing a song, sounding a blast.
WHEE! WHEE! Out of the way!
Goodness me, I can't delay!
You can relax, I have to run.
Follow the tracks into the sun.
Pain in my back, aches in my joints
Tickerty tack, here come the points!
Diddly-dee, diddly-dee
Diddly WIDDLY diddly dee!
Far to go? Not very far.
Little black tunnel (Tickerty- WHAAAAAAH!)
Look over there. What can it be?
Lucky old you, clever old me!
Come all this way, never go wrong
Come every day, singing a song
Down to the seaside. Let's have a cheer!
Oh what a train-ride! We're nearly there
We're nearly there, we're nearly there
We're nearly there, we're nearly there
So now I'd better slow right down
In half an hour we reach the town
And then you take your buckets and spades
And dig the sands and watch the parades
And swim and paddle and splash in the sea
And eat ice cream and toffee for tea
With ginger beer and orange squash
Hooray we're here, but gosh
I'm tired, oh GOSH I'm tired
Oh GOSSSSH I'M TIRED
OHHHH
GOSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSH!'

The only other occasion I've found 'gosh' rhyming with 'squash' is in an old family favourite Music Hall song 'Joshua' which we like to sing round the Christmas dinner table once a certain point in the evening has been reached. I wonder if Ian Whybrow knows it too? Here is 'Joshua' on YouTube sung by the great Florrie Forde (you'll like it I guarantee- although it misses the last verse punchline; 'perhaps he preferred her/perhaps lost his head/ but Joshua married the mother instead and May never sings now to Pa...') and a clip of a steam train arriving at Margate too for fun

Lovely poem to read aloud to your train enthusiast child. We've got one of them, although his heart is really with the buses these days. An ode to the W7 next then.

From 'Read Me First; poems for younger readers for every day of the year' chosen by louise bolongaro, pub. Macmillan, isbn 978-0-330-41343-5

North and 14th February

2012-02-09T11:01:00.000Z

Everyone's favourite date in the year is coming up on Tuesday. The one you look forward to and prepare for all year. The one that brings a spring to your step and a song to your heart. The one that's all about feeling and spreading Love Sweet Love around the planet. That's right. 14th February is International Book Giving Day. Hurray!

Think back to all the disappointing 14th Februaries you've had in your life prior to this one. I recall a weekend in Cromer with the husband where most people's Special Meal tables had been marked with a floating heart-shaped balloon. We had a nice time but my main memory is of the suppressed fury and muttered complaints of the couple on the next door table who had been given a floating round balloon instead. Imagine how much more harmonious everyone would have been if placements had rather been a lovely gift wrapped copy of say, 'Alfie's Big Out of Doors Storybook' or 'Dig Dig Digging' to enjoy? We wouldn't have had to chat or anything. Takes the pressure off doesn't it?

International Book Giving Day has been brought to my attention by Amy of Delightful Children's Books and Zoe of Playing by the Book and you will find full information of how to participate on their sites and on Facebook. It's about matching new and used quality children's books with a pair of hands eager to hold them, and it can be as simple as gift wrapping a library book for your own child or as thorough as donating your outgrown library to a charity that can distribute them within the developing world.

I'm going to be marking it by donating today's book the beautiful 'North' by Nick Dowson, illustrated by Patrick Benson to the Year One classroom at my sons' school where I know it will benefit their 'animals' topic next term. I will also choose a couple of books to add to the Volunteer Reading Help box that I use at another school that will be appreciated by my just starting out readers there. Something 'cool' with a bit of suspense, a few visual jokes and not too many words. Suggestions please! (maybe now's the time for me to track down the much lauded 'I want my hat back')

A lovely book giving day illustration to inspire me and you from Viv Schwartz.

'North- the greatest animal journey on earth' is going to be hard to part with. It's a gorgeous thing. Sublime illustrations by Patrick Benson of 'Owl Babies' fame tell the story of Arctic migration through the seasons. Grey whales are shown leaving a Mexican lagoon on their five thousand mile journey. Terns travel twice as far from the Antarctic. Caribou, walruses, wolves, herring, narwhal, snow geese and musk ox; all are lovingly rendered in the softest of watercolour, in a palatte that perfectly evokes the slow transformation from icy waste to flowering tundra.
Nick Dowson's text is sparse but poetic, the marriage with the pictures a thoughtful song.

"It's summer in the Arctic. All day and night, the sun spreads light, warming soil and water.
Tundra flowers glow rainbow-bright, the calm air hums with with summer bees, and mosquitoes rise like smoke from shining pools.
NEW LIFE IS EVERYWHERE..."

A great gift for any 'Frozen Planet' fan, whatever their age.

'North' written Nick Dowson, illus. Patrick Benson, pub. Walker, isbn 978-1-84428-775-8

Billy Bonkers

2012-02-08T11:41:00.000Z

'Pinterest' turns out to be a great way to find a day gone whilst having fun kicking cans about the backalleys of the internet. I started my first 'boards' yesterday: 'Style advice from Children's Literature' and 'Food in kids books' are pretty self explanatory but I also had fun with my 'The Real...' board featuring the real Enormous Crocodile, Very Hungry Caterpillar and, of course, Little Wooden Horse amongst others. Let me know what you think I should add to any of them.

'Billy Bonkers' and 'Billy Bonkers 2' by Giles Andreae, illustrated by Nick Sharatt are today's book recommendations for you from Bill and me. Bill would like to be 'The Real' Billy Bonkers come to think of it.

Each book contains three delightfully silly adventures for Billy and his family. It's pretty standard stuff; an every day family situation starts peacefully but then spirals out of control, Mum and Dad Bonkers panic, cool headed sister Betty makes a clever plan and Billy carries it through, saving the day, lives, the planet and normally getting to eat inordinate amounts of cake and chips at the end. I admire the total maxing out of the silliness though.

In the first story, 'Billy Bonkers and the Great Porridge Incident' for example, Billy eats so many raw porridge oats for breakfast that he produces enough gas to swell up like a balloon and rise up through the ceiling and the roof of the house. He's only saved from rising further by his unravelling pyjama bottoms tethering him to a tree. Quick thinking Betty works out he needs to burp and uses Mrs. Bonkers' enormous, comfy mummy pants (I recognise these) to fire a gigantic pork pie at Billy to thump him on the back and;

"There was a small pause. Then Billy felt his tummy begin to turn around and around like a washing machine. It churned and wobbled and rumbled and then it happened...
BLLOOAARRGGGHHHPPP!!!
Billy did the most enormous burp the world has ever known. I don't really know how to spell a burp such as this. I couldn't get anywhere near to imitating the sound, but I hope you can imagine the kind of burp that this was. It was the kind of burp that shook houses and that blew birds out of trees."

Are you getting a flavour of why this book might be popular with my 7 year old son? The nice thing is that a lot of slightly formulaic stories would end there but this book then escalates further to have Billy flying around the sky and then fortuitously making contact with a bunch of robbers in the middle of stealing all the loot from Mrs. Dingleberry's Cake, Sweets, Chocolate and Ice Cream Emporium.

"Not in their wildest dreams could they have imagined that a boy, wearing hardly anything at all except for his sister's frilly pants, would come hurtling towards them at a hundred miles an hour a few inches above the ground and slam right into them, knocking them over as they were trying to escape, and sending money, cakes, sweets, chocolates and ice cream flying about in all directions. But this is exactly what happened."

Billy is given a hero's medal by the police and promised free cake, sweets, chocolates and ice cream by a grateful Mrs. Dingleberry for the rest of his life. And that's just the first story.

I wonder if girls reading these books might start to feel a slight sense of outrage that in every case it is little sister Betty who actually solves the problems. In their defence Bill has made that connection himself. Betty is also the only character who escapes with dignity intact throughout. Girls will hopefully enjoy the fun just as much and swell quietly with their own sense of innate superiority. The Great Gender Divide at Five that seems to be fostered in some publishing divisions bothers me muchly. I just want good books not boys books or girls books. How about some farting super-pony books or mutant robo-fairies bottling sunbeams?

'Billy Bonkers' written Giles Andreae, illus. Nick Sharratt, pub. Orchard books, isbn 978-1-84616-151-3

Bubble Trouble

2012-02-07T10:49:00.000Z

Something sweetly silly today; Margaret Mahy and Polly Dunbar's 'Bubble Trouble', the story of Baby trapped in a bubble blown by his sister Mabel, who floats down the street and up into the sky.

I shouldn't like this book by my own arbitrary rules as it contains a long increasing chase sequence of neighbours (which I normally find a little tiresome) and a tongue-twisting rhyme sequence (which I normally find a lot tiresome). I will mutter, with my eyes downcast and my mouth hidden in my jumper, that I am not a massive Dr Seuss fan. What? Sacrilege!
I mean, I admire him and goodness only knows given the crimes that have been committed before and since in the name of learn-to-read books he's a SAINT but I don't enjoy reading his books out loud that much. They go on a bit I find. sorry. (*which is not to say that I don't appreciate the incredible skill in them for children to master reading them themselves- I realise I am unfairly comparing apples and pears here.)(maybe I shouldn't bring him up at all.) (shall I stop writing things in brackets now?)

'Bubble Trouble' goes on a lot but somehow remains intensely enjoyable to read. It's probably pure intellectual snobbery on my part. I'm a sucker for books that combine silliness and long words together pleasingly. Brain stretching for reader and listener but fun. To whit:

'In her garden, Chrysta Gribble had begun to cry and cavil
At her lazy brother, Greville, reading novels in his bed.
But she bellowed,
"Gracious, Greville!"
and she grovelled on the gravel,
When the baby in the bubble
bibble-bobbled overhead.'

This is Gerald Manley Hopkins for the under sevens. Wonderful.

I probably also like it because a game of Scrabble plays an integral role which is also a *small* obsession of mine.

Polly Dunbar's illustrations are both warm and wild, combining crayon, collage and watercolour to complement the crazy rhyme. She paints a nice line in cerise pink, mustard yellow and soft teal shoes and boots that I covet; normally teamed with some fine spotty or stripy tights. One probably shouldn't look to children's literature for style advice but sometimes, y'know, it might work.
I've just joined Pinterest- hmm, I see my first board emerging.

'Bubble Trouble' written Margaret Mahy, illus. Polly Dunbar, pub. Frances Lincoln,
isbn 978-1-84507-757-7

Out and About

2012-02-06T10:54:00.000Z

Ah nothing like sledging down the hill post school drop off to set you up for a blog post.

We've had our annual day of snow this weekend and I spent a couple of my 28 (actually 26 and a half in the end but I won't quibble) child free hours fighting past everyone else's children to secure a spot with my toboggan on our slightly over crowded London slope. Brilliant- because normally my job would be pulling the boys back up the hill like a carthorse and watching demurely at the top as they hurtle down without me. I then passed our sledge on to our 60+ neighbour who fearlessly launched herself down, scattering the climbers yelling; 'OUTTA MY WAY CHILDREN! MAD GRANDMA IS COMING!'. We may both sneak back there this morning now the kids are safely in school although it's melting fast.

It prompted a rifle through the bookshelf for good seasonal fare, which proved a little disappointing; I think most of our best 'snow' books have come through the library. But. No matter. Because I did lay my hands on another favourite Shirley Hughes book, which is both seasonal and great for the littlest ones. It's been four weeks, that's not too soon to re-review an author as good as her is it?

'Out and About' features Katy and Olly, a brother and sister slightly younger than the perhaps better known Alfie and Annie Rose. It's a trip through the seasons in the form of loosely written poems accompanied by Shirley Hughes' usual, delightful, love-filled illustrations. Particularly fine are the four full double spread pictures for each season, packed with detail for parent and child to explore together.

This was one of Bill's favourite books when he was two and a half or so. I imagine that Katy in the pictures is about three and her baby brother Olly just turned one, so it was aspirational stuff for Bill and then baby Eddie. There's nothing children like more than looking at and reading about children just a tiny bit older than them doing the same sort of stuff as they'd like to and that instinct seems to be there from birth. I liked reading 'Just Seventeen' magazine when I was thirteen; same principle.

The book has a dreamy, thoughtful quality: The poems are written from the point of view of Katie and her appreciation of and interaction with the natural world around her. At the same time as being simply written they introduce some nice alliterative vocabulary which reads out loud well:

'Wind

I like the wind.
The soft, summery, gentle kind,
The gusty, blustery, fierce kind.
ballooning out the curtains,
Blowing things about,
Wild and wilful everywhere.
I do like the wind.'

I think one of Shirley Hughes' great skills as an illustrator in this book (other than an intimate understanding of the body language of very small children) is a perfect capture of seasonal light: The particular quality of 4pm dusk in November or the rolling skies of a briefly sunny June day both timelessly transposed and recognised by child and parent alike. She makes me remember my own childhood in a way no other author manages I think, whilst still remaining relevant to my own children. A shared experience that is the essence of the best picture books, but very rarely achieved so well.

'Out and About', Shirley Hughes, pub. Walker, isbn 1-84428-473-5

Disobedience

2012-02-03T10:29:00.000Z

Shhh. Don't tell anyone. The husband's taking B. and E. to the Grandparents this weekend. I calculate I have approximately 28 hours with no-one to please but me!
In honour of this event and the meme that is Poetry Friday amongst kids' book bloggers I found myself reciting this poem on the walk down the hill after school drop off.

Disobedience

James James
Morrison Morrison
Weatherby George Dupree
Took great
Care of his Mother,
Though he was only three.
James James
said to his Mother,
"Mother" he said, said he;
"You must never go down to the end of the town, if
you don't go down with me."

James James
Morrison's Mother
Put on a golden gown,
James James
Morrison's Mother
Drove to the end of the town.
James James
Morrison's Mother
Said to herself, said she:
"I can get right down to the end of the town and be back in time for tea."

King John
put up a notice,
"LOST or STOLEN or STRAYED!
JAMES JAMES MORRISON'S MOTHER
SEEMS TO HAVE BEEN MISLAID.
LAST SEEN
WANDERING VAGUELY:
QUITE OF HER OWN ACCORD,
SHE TRIED TO GET DOWN TO THE END OF
THE TOWN- FORTY SHILLINGS REWARD!

James James
Morrison Morrison
(Commonly known as Jim)
Told his
Other relations
Not to go blaming him.
James James
said to his Mother,
"Mother," he said, said he:
"You must never go down to the end of the town without
consulting me."

James James
Morrison's mother
Hasn't been heard of since.
King John
Said he was sorry,
So did the Queen and Prince.
King John
(somebody told me)
Said to a man he knew;
"If people go down to the end of the town, well, what
can anyone do?"

(now then, very softly)
J.J.
M.M.
W.G. Du P.
took great
C/o his M*****
Though he was only 3.
J.J.
Said to his M*****
"M*****," he said, said he:
"You-must-never-go-down-to-the-end-of-the-town-if-
you-don't-go-down-with ME!"

A.A. Milne

All Milne's poems were staples of my childhood. We had a rather nice illustrated edition of 'The King's Breakfast' and not being a fan of marmalade myself I felt great sympathy with the King's quest for butter for his bread. My favourite was 'King John's Christmas' which my father would read very straight and solemn in a manner that would almost reduce me to tears. I really worried about poor, wicked, King John and the paucity of his Christmas stocking.

I also really worried about James' lost mother. I'm not sure 'Disobedience' is a poem for children at all, although the rhythm ensures that read once it will lodge itself in your brain for ever. But as a Mother of a 'barely alive' 5 year old who doesn't want me even going to the toilet without his permission I find a new healthy adult appreciation of it. Fetch me my golden gown I'm outta here...

from 'When We Were Very Young' by A.A. Milne, illustrations E.H. Shepard, pub.Egmont
isbn 1405211180

A Picture History of Britain

2012-02-02T10:48:00.000Z

If you like books as beautiful objects rather than just texts (and I think most people who like children's books particularly would fall into that category) then I am confident you will like the book I am considering today.

Originally published in 1945; Clarke Hutton's 'A Picture History of Britain' is a perfectly coherent first primer account of the last 2000 years on this island condensed into 60 odd pages. It is also in itself a piece of history, both artistic and social; and as such a lovely thing to own.

An introduction at the beginning of this reissue introduces Hutton as one of the pioneers of autolithography for illustration. Not really knowing what that was I discovered this film here which demonstrates it rather beautifully if a little lengthily. He studied and then taught at the Central School of Arts and Crafts in London and also produced a series of educational prints which apparently adorned many classrooms in the 1950s. I'd like to see them. His work is beautiful; a slightly sombre, muted palate pays proper respect to the subject matter of capital H History, but there is also a playful expressiveness- particularly in the later illustrations in the book where more social history is introduced. I love the picture of people going hiking for pleasure as leisure time increased (a swarthy gentleman with a pipe may be goosing the cross looking youth in front). The picture of rioting Blackshirt Fascists has real menace I think.

The text is surprisingly useful. The boys dip into it regularly to get a fix on something of interest to them. To start with that was just identifying every King 'Bill' and every King 'Eddie' but it's also seen us through explorations into Knights, The Great Fire, Florence Nightingale and the Blitz amongst others so far. I like the hotchpotch of political and social history; facts and 'story'- for example-

"Sir Walter Raleigh sent men to explore the east coast of America. The land they found they called Virginia. There they found tobacco growing and sent some back to England. More and more people began to enjoy smoking a pipe."

The chronological approach has also proved illuminating to Bill and Eddie when the term 'history' just means everything that happened before they were born.

There is a poignant post war optimism which pervades the book. To write a History of Britain in 1945 must have felt a bit like putting a full stop on time; 'and now we will all live happily ever after- ish'. History complete.

"This brings us to the end of our history, and the hopes of men and women all over the world that the folly of war, and the dreadful misery it brings, may at last be understood, and never repeated. That such a Peace shall be made that, as the Atlantic Charter declares: 'all men in all lands may live out their lives in freedom from fear and want'."

sniff. and sigh.

'A Picture History of Britain' Clarke Hutton, pub.OUP isbn 978-0-19-911571-6

The Horridness of Henry

2012-02-01T11:34:00.000Z

There can be few characters that polarise the posse we will call my Mum Chums (copyright of collective noun K.and S. circa 2002) more than Francesca Simon's Horrid Henry. Opinions seem to range from the apathetic; 'it's just formulaic fodder- rubbish but y'know- whaddever' through the dismissively jealous;'If only I'd thought of it, it could be me swimming in Francesca Simon's lovely lolly thank you very much, what jammy luck she had' to the downright terrified; 'No copy can come through our front door or The War is Lost and we'll need to wall ourselves in the Panic Room until the kids have raised themselves and moved out.'

I think Horrid Henry is brilliant, clever and very very funny. There is a reason why Francesca Simon's books have sold trillions (possibly) and spawned about ten other copy cat franchises: She is a really. good. writer.

Yesterday I did my annual sortie to Bill's upper bunk to change his sheets. I don't go up there often. You have to mine your way though Lego booby traps and 50 assorted soft toys under the supervision of the baleful gaze of his Giant Bob the Builder ('I'll be ready to get rid of him soon Mum- just not yet...'), and then throw everything overboard to excavate the duvet and mattress lurking somewhere beneath. All whilst not braining yourself on the ceiling. In the process I must have discovered six different Horrid Henry books buried in niches around his pillows like a squirrel hoarding nuts. He loves them completely and absolutely. They are, currently, the only books he is motivated to devour in one sitting in daylight hours (oh- apart from Captain Underpants, whose turn in the spotlight will surely come).

If I'm going to argue with the apathetic and dismissive first I will say that I think it's Francesca Simon's ear for dialogue that raises these books above the mass of others. They're fun to read aloud and fun for Bill to read himself. The best ones are plotted as intricately as a good sitcom episode too; with a satisfying weave of sub plot and back firing plans. I wouldn't underestimate the skill that's gone into them or make the mistake of thinking I could do better. (Why do so many people think they can write children's books?- they're really hard-they can't.) We've gone through a fair few alternatives; the 'Yuck' books, 'Gargoylz' and 'Dirtie Bertie' spring to mind but there are others, and when you read them you come afresh to an appreciation of just how good and varied the Original is.

"Henry sighed. Boy, was this boring. Why didn't they have a decent car, with built-in video games, movies and jacuzzi? That's just what he'd have, when he was king.
Softly, he started to hum under his breath.
'Henry's humming!'
'Stop being horrid, Henry!'
'I'm not doing anything,' protested Henry. He lifted his foot.
'MUM!' squealed Peter. 'Henry's kicking me.'
'Are you kicking him, Henry?'
'Not yet,' muttered Henry....'

As for the terrified; there is no doubt that the behaviour of Henry the hero is horrid. I can see the theory; who would want their children to identify with a boy that tortures his brother, runs rings around his parents, refuses all green matter to eat and hates school (although he's also clever, imaginative, endlessly inventive and self sufficient). All I can say is that Bill at least can understand that this is fiction- not a 'how to' manual. It's not just Henry who's despicable after all, Perfect Peter is nauseating, Mum and Dad distracted and inconsistent, teachers and classmates equally unpleasant. Sometimes Henry gets the upper hand and often he doesn't; whaddever- it's funny. My children may be being raised in an overly ironised household and their ears might be more highly tuned to the nuances of parental sarcasm but I wouldn't make any particular claims for them.
Ultimately, they don't seem any more inclined to follow Henry's example than any of the morally upright, suitable and nourishing heroes I also introduce them too. I liked 'What Katy Did' as a child but I'm afraid (and also glad) to say it definitely didn't turn me into Katy.

'Horrid Henry and the Bogey Babysistter' written Francesca Simon, illus. Tony Ross, pub Orion,
isbn 978-1-85881-826-9
many many others available. audio cds read by Miranda Richardson also a hoot, but I wouldn't bother with the tv series and certainly don't touch the film.

Giant Jam Sandwiches

2012-01-31T10:56:00.000Z

Time for a contender for Favourite Picture Book Currently In House.

'The Giant Jam Sandwich' was written by Janet Burroway and illustrated by John Vernon Lord in the early 1970s and thus should fall into the category of nostalgia wallow for me. In fact I don't think it was part of our childhood library and it was simply a lucky impulse purchase a few years back. More than likely it was the combination of sweet food and the word 'giant' that attracted me. Regular blog readers may have noticed how my mind works in this respect.

I've always wondered about where this book originated but had been too lazy to find out until now. It seems very British in the placement of its story and in its pictures of village houses, rolling hills, fields and white cliffs. Yet the whole 'style' of the book; it's intricate pen and ink work, detailed colouring and generally fab early 70's vibe is much more reminiscent of a classic American picture book. The cars definitely look American.(I think I need to find some Scholarly Work to really unpick what I mean here- I am conscious that there are definitely different 'traditions' in house styles of picture books from country to country and would like to develop my eye better). It seems that it is in fact a collaboration between an American author and British illustrator: That may explain my confusion then.

It tells the story, in jaunty rhyme, of the village of Itching Down plagued by the arrival of four million wasps. The villagers hold a meeting to decide what to do about this and come to the entirely reasonable conclusion they should collaborate on trapping them in a giant jam sandwich.

This being the 1970s, it falls to the women of the town to make the dough for the giant loaf under the careful supervision of Bap the Baker and the men to transport the cooked loaf and slice it up with a giant saw. Flying machines (including a tractor, converted with the aid of propellor blade and that ever useful standby-the bunch of balloons) raise the second slice of bread ready to trap the wasps once the first slice is buttered and jammed.

'Suddenly the sky was humming!
All four million wasps were coming!
They smelled that jam, they dived and struck!
And they ate so much that they all got stuck.
The other slice came down- kersplat!-
on top of the wasps, and that was that.
There were only three that got away,
And where they are now I cannot say.'

There are books in this house which some of us like more than others of us. There are books in this house which only one or two of us like at all. This book we all like a lot. It lends itself to recitation very nicely too, so it tends to get read in kind of 'play form' with any participant jumping in to complete the next line, take the part of Mayor Muddlenut or possibly 'squeal' on behalf of the ladies.

I have been excited to discover that Janet Burroway and John Vernon Lord worked together on another title; 'The Truck on the Track', which according to her website has just come back into print. Not it would appear here in the UK yet alas- but I shall see if I can nose it out.

For those looking for a fix of giant sweet item. The site 'Pimp my snack' is something of a classic; they don't seem to have tackled a jam sandwich yet but I am full of admiration for what they can do with a custard cream.

'The Giant Jam Sandwich' written Janet Burroway, illus. John Vernon Lord, pub. Red Fox isbn 1849413444

Orange Pear Apple Bear

2012-01-30T11:14:00.000Z

I'm avoiding putting age recommendations on my posts as I think they're of limited value. My kids can still derive a lot of pleasure from some of their simplest 'baby' books, and will also enjoy hearing quite complex texts read aloud too. Books is books I reckon and too much classification can inhibit discovery in both directions.

But this week, as promised, I am going to introduce a little more focus to my reviews by starting with something to be enjoyed by the youngest and working upwards day by day (although Friday will be a day for off piste discoveries perhaps...)

This weekend, the husband and I took ourselves off to the cinema to see 'The Artist'. If you've seen it yourself you may agree that it is a thing of great charm and exquisite construction. It certainly led us to idly pass our time in wondering how many other movies could be perfectly well told or even improved by the absence of dialogue. Anything with Jason Statham in it for instance.

It also brought to mind today's book 'Orange Pear Apple Bear' by Emily Gravett, which is similarly a thing of great charm and exquisite construction. A few years old, it has already achieved classic status as well as a cluster of its own bookish 'Oscars'. Hooray for minimalism we say today.

The book uses the words of its title to set up a series of playful juxtapositions, all beautifully demonstrated by Emily Gravett's elegant watercolours. The four items are shown separately and then in combinations that highlight how words' meanings can change depending on placement. Thus 'Orange Bear' shows the bear coloured orange but 'Bear, Orange' shows the bear eating the orange. So very, very subtle but very lovely. And a first primer in punctuation too.

Eddie received this book as a parting gift from the mysterious Alex, a young man who 'observed' Eddie for an hour a week for the first two years of his life as part of a Masters in Psychology I think. To make his observations as unobtrusive and uncorrupting to 'real' family life as possible he was not allowed to speak or interact with us. During his hour he sat perfectly still and silent and just watched. I can't tell you how much both boys loved his visits and really looked forward to him coming; despite the fact that he never played or spoke to them. Minimalism it seems can be just as attractive in relationships. It was a very suitable present for Eddie; who continues to enjoy it. Well observed Alex.

I'm pilfering other people's pictures today as I can't find our copy. Even though we read it last week. grrrr. Could be an indication of a need to do a bookcase tidy. Other people's pictures are better of course so that's an advantage.

'Orange Pear Apple Bear', Emily Gravett, pub macmillan, isbn 1405090227

'Poetry Friday'

2012-01-27T12:08:00.001Z

My Naughty Little Sister

2012-01-27T11:55:00.001Z

When I was little girl, (begins all Dorothy Edwards' lovely stories- but also me today) we didn't have such things as MP3 players or even CDs or even tapes. There was an old portable record player in the playroom and a choice of about 6 singles to play on it. We had Johnny Morris reading Thomas the Tank engine stories. We had Joyce Grenfell doing her 'George Don't Do That' nursery school monologues (please follow this link if you don't know them - perfection). We had 'Lilly the Pink' by The Scaffolds and some honkytonk piano sung to by a man with a gravelly voice who's name I can't remember.

And we had two stories from 'My Naughty Little Sister' by Dorothy Edwards. It was a bit of a treat to listen to any of these records in my memory. As I was the youngest of four, they'd already seen some duty and were inclined to jump about through scratching if you moved; so I had to remain perfectly still whilst they played. They were something brought out when confined poorly to bed (along with the juice beaker shaped like an orange) and thus had Special Status.

The stories were written in the fifties and early sixties and fictionalise the pre-war childhood exploits of Dorothy Edwards and her little sister Phyllis (although neither girl's name is ever used in the books). Written in the first person, the narrator takes on the persona of the wise older sibling commenting with benign superiority on the mischief making and scrapes of her lovable little sister. It's a very clever device because any child listening to or reading the stories is directly addressed and immediately given the status of the Wise and Good themselves. New concepts and ideas are often introduced with 'Now, I know, you would never do this but...' or 'You know what I am describing but my naughty little sister didn't so I am going to tell you...'

The story I particularly remember listening to was called 'The Birthday Party' and describes my Naughty little sister going to a party at her friend Bad Harry's house. The children sneak downstairs whilst all the 'good' children are playing 'ring-o'-roses' to have a look at the Birthday Tea.
They admire the table set out with sandwiches, cakes, blancmanges, jellies and biscuits and then:

"Bad Harry said, 'There's something else in the larder. It's going to be a surprise treat but you shall see it because you are my best girlfriend.'
So Bad Harry took my Naughty little sister out into the kitchen and they took chairs and climbed up to the larder shelf; which is a dangerous thing to do and it would have been their own fault if they had fallen down.
And Bad Harry showed my Naughty little sister a lovely, spongey trifle covered with creamy stuff and with silver balls and jelly sweets on the top."

The children proceed to dare each other to steal first sweets and silver balls from the trifle, and then the cream and sponge, until finally they are forced to eat the whole thing.

"Bad Harry said; 'Now we've made the trifle so untidy, no one else will want any so we might as well finish it all up'"

They are discovered, my Naughty little sister runs all the way home and both she and Bad Harry are so ill in the night that they never want trifle again.

As quite a good little girl myself, the transgression of this story and others sent frissons of excited appall down my spine. Vicarious naughtiness was very satisying. But despite having loved these books myself, it took me a while to introduce them to Bill and Eddie. I thought they might be too girly or feel dated to revisit. I bought an audio CD as much as out of nostalgia for myself as for them.

I was wrong; they loved them and still love them. They were of course a period piece when I was little and they don't feel any more so now. Bill is both wistful and admiring of the freedom of their childhood (as am I): My Naughty little sister is allowed to roam the local streets and visit her friends houses entirely independently from the age of 3 or 4. She travels on the train in the company of the guard alone at the same age to go and stay in the country. She goes fishing just with her big sister. Their world is populated by helpful adults; postmen, chimney seeps, window cleaners etc. who befriend and look out for them As an adult reader, I am less wistful about the sheer amount of drudgery and female labour described within: Much of their exploits occur when the sisters are left to amuse themselves whilst their mother boils the washing, beats the carpets and scrubs the floors in a seemingly continuous loop.

These books are typeset in such a way as to make them ideal transitions from picture to chapter books for new readers. They also have the added bonus of illustrations (pretty early in her career I think) by Shirley Hughes. I can't remember who read the version that I listened to, a fair few years ago, but I can say that Jan Francis does a great job on our current versions- a big recommendation for audio book fans.

'My Naughty Little Sister's Friends' written Dorothy Edwards, illus. Shirley Hughes, pub. egmont,
isbn 978-1-4052-5335-2
I should say this is not the volume with 'The Birthday Party' in it- which I've lent out I think- but they're all good!

Mustard, Custard, Grumble Belly and Gravy

2012-01-26T10:14:00.001Z

Michael Rosen is coming to the boys' school! Anticipation has been quietly building in this house and is now reaching bubbling point. Last night:
Eddie (worried): 'But will Michael Rosen wear glasses Mum?'
Me: 'Not sure Eddie'
Eddie (definite): 'Yes. Yes he will wear glasses' (glasses are very aspirational items for that boy)
Me: 'Shall we look at some pictures of him on the computer and see?' (I'm going to need to let him down gently if he is, as I believe, spec-free.)
So we go online and find multiple images of the Great Man...showing very intermittent use of reading glasses but...
Eddie:'Oh! He has a beard.' (suitable awed pause of approbation), 'I love Michael Rosen Mum.'

We then spent a very happy half hour watching his fab performances on YouTube with Eddie's eyes shining and quivery with happiness. This a particular hit for giggles.

When the news was broken of his visit I had a shame-faced rummage through our shelves and realised the only book of his we had was the standard issue (but obviously wonderful) 'We're going on a Bear Hunt'. As Eddie a big fan of poetry generally I remedied that with a trot up the hill to the bookshop and bought 'Mustard, Custard, Grumble Belly and Gravy'.

Eddie normally has to be forced to hear a book a few times before he decides whether or not he's going to 'adopt' it but not this one. This was admitted to the honoured Bed Book Stack the very same night and he's been reading it constantly since. It helps that it's illustrated by Quentin Blake of whom he wholeheartedly approves but he's always loved the 'mouthfeel' of well put together words and rhymes and these chew down nicely for him.

'Tiffy Taffy

Tiffy taffy toffee
on the flee flo floor.
Tiffy taffy toffee
on the dee doe door.
Kiffy kaffy coffee
in a jig jag jug.
Kiffy kaffy coffee
in a mig mag mug.'

The book also came with an audio CD of Michael Rosen himself reading them. Now I feel a bit ambivalent about the tendency of every new picture book these days to be accompanied by a CD. They're normally far too short to be useful for journeys etc. and they make the cover more bulky to manipulate and the book less satisfying to hold.
This is a marvellous exception and has for once truly enhanced our enjoyment of the book. It's on a constant loop in the car.

The only downside of the Michael Rosen fever is Eddie's new found tendency to squash his peas on his knees at the dinner table and his attempts to stick his toe up my nose (see here). The other only downside is that I don't get to see Michael Rosen too!

'Mustard, Custard, Grumble Belly and Gravy' written Michael Rosen, illus. Quentin Blake, pub. Bloomsbury isbn 978-0-7475-8738-5

Hooray For Fish

2012-01-25T10:56:00.000Z

There are few articles more irritating to read than those ones (usually at the back of Sunday colour supplements) where a Supermodel angsts about how difficult it is being beautiful and how she'd rather be much fatter but she just can't put the weight on no matter how much cream she eats. Or a millionaire socialite, never out of the papers, muses how much happier he would be living in a bothy with no sanitation and raising goats.

I worry I may be about to write a post like that. Feel free to throw things at the screen.

Eddie reads too much. It's basically all he does. Well, sometimes he goes for a little run around the kitchen, he sings a bit and he does love to bake and eat biscuits. Other than that he's reading. At nursery they used to sometimes have to close the (hinged) 'book corner' to get Eddie to do something else (being a Montessori nursery the something else was usually polishing silver or window washing- so I can't say I blamed him there). When I go to bed at night, it's not that uncommon to find him still peering through the gloom at one of his favourites, a full 3 hours after I last left him there; enthusiastically 'performing' it with all the voices.

I realise those of you who struggle to persuade your children to open a book may now be feeling the irritation build. 'Sheesh! To have her problems!'. you roll your eyes. 'This is actually just an excuse for Proud Mummy Boasting veiled as a moan. We see your subterfuge.'

I am proud of him. Of course I am- I am his Mum and that's my job. I also worry about him (of course I do- I'm his Mum and that's my job). His reading has come at a cost to certain other skills. He can't/won't draw or write. He can't/won't ride a bike or kick a ball. He's not terribly interested in interacting with his peers. He lives with us very happily, but slightly apart, on Planet Eddie; a planet constructed out of an inordinate number of books.

This is a rather long winded way of getting to today's review I realise- but if I'm going to the core of Planet Eddie- then I want to go back to the book where it all began for him. This was 'Hooray for Fish' by Lucy Cousins (of Maisy Mouse fame).

'Hooray for Fish' immerses you in a jolly underwater adventure through Lucy Cousin's glorious, rich-coloured paintings. It's a book to have big- don't mess around with the board book here. Little Fish swims through the sea greeting all the other fish he meets until he gets to his Mum. The text rhymes and through the variety of fish introduced, various different concepts of opposites or adjectives are taught and visually reinforced.

'Curly whirly, twisty twirly, upside down, round and round.
So many friends, so many fish, splosh, splash, splish!'

Most pages just have two fish on them but there are a few spreads with many more and lots of other funny fish to find including a strawberry fish and a bumble bee fish. I love Lucy Cousin's style. I want to take a spoon and eat it like an ice cream.

This book entered the house probably when Eddie was about 10 months old and had just learned to crawl. And thereafter that was what he would crawl to. He brought to be read umpteen times a day. He turned the pages and poured over it peacefully himself whilst his neglectful mother ran after toddler big bro. He brought it to the dinner table, the bathroom, and to bed. For about a year it was his companion until he'd sucked all the marrow he could from it and moved on to 'The Gruffalo'.

I have since given this book as a first birthday present on several occasions and the feedback I have always received is that it has become a favourite. I'm not sure why, as frankly there are many similar books for toddlers, but there's something almost visceral about this one. It channels into the 1 yr old brain so perfectly, I'd put it on my 'essential' baby reading list.

'Hooray for Fish' by Lucy Cousins, pub. Walker isbn 1-4063-0156-6

Incidently for those who would like to chew further on the thought that there is such a thing as too much reading for kids I recommend Frances Spufford's 'The Child that Books Built'; a very grown up book, part memoir, part lit. crit that analyses his own childhood retreat into literature.

Full Moon Soup and VRH

2012-01-24T10:33:00.001Z

There are three other children that I have the pleasure of reading with weekly other than my own pair. I volunteer with a charity called Volunteer Reading Help. The charity pairs those with a bit of time on their hands with local schools and the idea is to give quite intense support to three young readers over the course of a year. I spend half an hour twice a week with each of them. If you live in London you may have seen the Evening Standard's 'Get London Reading' campaign which has been raising the charity's profile.

The really great thing about VRH is it's not about sitting down working through graded 'readers' with children and phonic flashcards- it's about inspiring a love of books. Each volunteer gets a lucky dip box of inspiring picture books, non-fiction and novels (plus a lot of games) and the children are encouraged to follow their noses and have a go at what excites them. With 'paired reading' children can access the texts that might otherwise be considered too complicated for them- boosting their self esteem and (hopefully) inspiring them to continue. We can also dig around and find things for them to read that might otherwise not be considered 'school worthy': My own box contains an Arsenal programme, a lot of Top Trumps and a Star Wars comic for instance.

This year I am paired with quite young, Year 1 children. This presents its own challenges- as they are essentially non-readers as yet. It's been tricky finding the right mix of fun and 'progress'; I tend to come down on the side of fun as having the more long term benefits. We spend a lot of time playing silly games: 'I Am Your Robot' is a favourite, where they read very simple CVC action words to me and I perform them to their command. We also spend a fair amount of time colouring things in and drawing pictures for our own stories. Choosing the right books that will grab them though is always interesting and sometimes unexpected. Even though they are five, they don't like to be patronised thank you.

We have been spending a lot of time enjoyably with the Usborne Puzzle Adventure books. They're funny, sometimes quite complicated and involve a lot of concentration, spotting things and working things out; all obviously developing the skills necessary for reading. The children are a lot better than me at the puzzles too which is always gratifying to them. We've been running out of them though, so I was looking in the library for something similar when I came across 'Full Moon Soup' by Alastair Graham. It's been a massive hit.

'Full Moon Soup' takes drawings of the same cross section of the same hotel and layers up the story page by page. There's no written narrative, although a bit of text at the side of each page gives hints of things to look out for. This hotel is Fawlty Towers turned up to eleven. It starts sensibly enough but as the 'story' progresses we start to see ghosts come alive, a cook change into a werewolf, characters come out of portraits, toilets fall through floors, maids become gorillas, aliens crash land into chimneys, mummy's dance with vampires and more and more until the hotel is almost reduced to rubble in the final scene. The layers of detail and the sheer variety of different stories being told means you have to keep flicking forward and back to follow through what you've missed. The two boys I read it with were both completely absorbed and genuinely excited to turn over and follow it.

It's brilliant to have stories you can 'read' yourself when you can't actually read yourself that are a little bit spooky and cool. They could tell it to me for once. And a lot less headache inducing to bespectacled adult eyes than the more ubiquitous 'Wheres Wally'.

'Full Moon Soup' by Alastair Graham, pub. Boxer Books, isbn 978-1-905417-67-4

The Phoenix

2012-01-23T10:32:00.000Z

I was going to get all coherent and organised in my posts this week and get some kind of chronological thing going where I start the week with a review for the littlies and work my way up as the week progresses. It may still happen, but I've been stymied today at least by the arrival into our house on Friday of The Phoenix (look I've learnt to do links an' everything) and the hopping from foot to foot, bouncing up and down general happiness and excitement it has generated in this household over the weekend.

This is a brand new story comic which The Grandparents put us on to and were kind enough to purchase a trial subscription for. It started at the beginning of January and thus we have started with Issue 3.

Now Bill had recently become an occasional eater of 'The Beano' comic and I've enjoyed it too- taking me back to rainy Saturday afternoons of my childhood in the Cambridge Children's Library working my way through their box of back issues. There's no doubt however that the format and storylines of 'The Beano' are pretty unvaried, much of the artwork is uninspiring and there's a lot of freebie plastic tat promotions attached which you have to fight through to get inside it. Not to start on their new Olympic 'Wenlock and Mandeville' strip which Truly Sucks. It all feels a bit lazy.

'The Phoenix' is as a rich and nourishing ham and vegetable soup to 'The Beano's' cuppasoup. It's put together by people who Really Love to Draw. They've obviously all been doing it obsessively on their kitchen tables since they were grasshopper size and have now seamlessly moved into sheds. They also tell Really Cool Stories. Bill's particular favourite in this issue was a strip called 'The Princess and the Peanut Butter Sandwiches' by Adam Murphy concerning the perils of making a wish for an infinite number of peanut butter sandwiches when you meet a magic unicorn. I liked the classy serial strip 'The Pirates of Pangaea' by Daniel Hartwell and Neill Cameron which features a Victorian ship full of dinosaur riding pirates. Many of the strips are in serial form and it's lovely to have the excitement of tuning in next week for the next installment. There's a huge variety of drawing styles and formats demonstrated and in the middle a long text 'proper' story too. This week it was an extract from a new book by Dave Shelton called 'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' (link!) which was so good I immediately had to go and order it. sigh. Terrible habits I'm developing in the excuse of blogging.

The team responsible for 'The Phoenix' were also responsible for a now defunct comic called 'DFC' which passed me by alas, but has led me to the discovery of their back issue comic books of the most popular strips, many by the same artists as 'The Phoenix'. More ordering may have occurred (blush) and more may be reviewed here at a later date. Given that this was also the weekend that Bill properly got stuck into 'Asterix' I can see a comic book/graphic novel strand emerging. That'll help me get organised then.

I should add that Bill also started his own drawing at the kitchen table this weekend inspired 'Playing By the Book' style- he created Pumpkin Face and his arch nemesis Birdie Man. It's unusual for him to choose to draw and another tribute to the power of 'The Phoenix'. I'll stick them up below for fun. Along with his Lego gun collection- off topic- but how we spent our Sunday afternoon and I'm proud of my handiwork.

'The Phoenix' is currently available by subscription but might also be found in specialist comic shops like Gosh or Forbidden Planet (although when we tried to reserve Issues 1 and 2 they'd already sold out) and in some branches of Waitrose.

Eat your peas

2012-01-20T10:46:00.000Z

Bill doesn't like peas. Or carrots. Or sweetcorn (he'll wolf down broccoli, spinach and a variety of beans though in case you were thinking I've completely Failed As A Mother)(...'wolf'.. may be overstating the case) It's still a puzzle. I'd go as far as to say he's almost phobic about peas. I had to individually fish them out of a shepherd's pie on a playdate recently whilst he cowered in his seat moaning; 'I can see another one mum. quick! there! under that piece of mashed potato! GET IT. QUICK....'

He shares this attribute with Daisy, the heroine of Kes Gray's wonderful 'Eat your Peas': Daisy and her Mum sit at the dinner table contemplating her plate, empty except for the hated peas.

'"Eat your peas," said Mum. Daisy looked at the little green balls that were ganging up on her plate. "I don't like peas," said Daisy.'

Daisy's Mum begins the well established practice of trying to bribe or 'incentivise' her to eat those peas. She starts small; 'If you eat your peas, you can have some pudding'...but without success. The incentives start to escalate. 'If you eat your peas, you can have some pudding, stay up for an extra half hour and you can skip your bath.'. Daisy's expression and response on each double page spread remains the same: 'I don't like peas.' The escalation escalates. 'If you eat your peas you can have 48 puddings, stay up past midnight, you never have to wash again, I'll buy you two new bikes and a baby elephant.' And escalates further: 'if you eat your peas, I'll buy you a supermarket stacked full of puddings, you never have to go to bed again ever, or school again, you never have to wash, or brush your hair, or clean your shoes, or tidy your bedroom, I'll buy you a bike shop, a zoo, ten chocolate factories, I'll take you to Superland for a week and you can have your very own space rocket with double retro laser blammers.'

This is a book which you shouldn't read aloud whilst anybody is drinking anything because they are guaranteed to start the sort of snorty giggling that makes milk come out of their nose. Nick Sharratt's deceptively simple, flat cartoon style of illustration complement the text perfectly; especially the small diagrammatic pictures accompanying Mum's promises.

Does Daisy eat her peas? Let's just say there's a nice twist, but ultimately everyone gets pudding. Mums' apparently aren't perfect beings either. This is a good reminder about the holes that may be dug in the name of Authoritarian Parenting.

There are lots of other 'Daisy' books, both in picture book form and as longer stories in simple chapter books. 'Daisy and the Trouble with Zoos' is one of the latter, and another favourite here; it's hard to resist a story of baby penguin kidnap. If Bill emulates Daisy in Pea Hatred I started getting ideas of my own from her at London Zoo's great new Penguin Beach Exhibit. Honestly, they swim so close to you, and they're very sweet, and then they'd fit in very well in this house because everyone likes to eat fish....

'Eat Your Peas' written Kes Gray, illus. Nick Sharratt, pub. Red Fox, isbn 978-1-862-30804-6

Eddie's Garden

2012-01-19T11:00:00.000Z

First up- an apology- I inadvertently reviewed an out of print book yesterday. It shouldn't be out of print but there you go; blink and it happens. Whilst this blog is intended really only to stimulate my own brain into considering what works and why in a Good Children's Book and not to sell them to others, I can appreciate that it would be annoying if you did want it. As I've shown, I have no compunction at all about reviewing the old but in the future I'll try and make sure they are the available where possible. In the mean time- try your library for big blue whale fun.

So an oldie but a goodie but also an in-the-shoppie today in the form of 'Eddie's Garden and how to make things grow' by Sarah Garland. It may be fairly obvious why this entered our house in the first place but I don't think it's just because he shares the hero's name that my own Eddie loves this.

This is a straightforward, naturalistic and gentle book; Eddie, helped by his little sister Lily and his (apparently single) Mum decides to plant a new vegetable garden. The book takes us through the process with the seasons from digging and seed choosing, to sowing, to planting out, to nurture (and the all-important slug protection), to harvest. It ends with the cooking of that (impressive) harvest and a picnic lunch outside with their Grandad. There's a good amount of information buried in the story about natural cycles, what make plants' grow and the importance of insects and birds in a garden too. This is definitely an organic plot, and Bill's favourite part of the story is when Eddie goes on a nighttime mission in his pyjamas to remove slugs by torchlight. At the end of the book there's also an appendix with much more detailed instructions about how to plan and grow a child friendly garden. It's a perfectly good first gardener's reference text.

'"What makes plants grow?" asked Eddie.
"What makes you grow?" asked Mum.
"Food," said Eddie.
"Drink for me," said Lily.
"That's just what plants like,"said Mum. "Food from the earth, rain to drink, air to breathe and sun for light and warmth."'

My real pleasure in this book and it's strength I think is in the warmth and humour of the family relationships displayed both in the writing and in Sarah Garland's lovely illustrations. Just like in Shirley Hughes's families; there is a real respect shown for children's opinions and independence of thought. It's Eddie's garden and Eddie's project- his mum just helps him facilitate it. She even takes Lily's worm eating habit calmly; an excellent role model for the possibly less sanguine mother reading it.
I do experience a certain frisson of garden envy too I must admit. Our own attempts at vegetable growing have been pretty woeful in comparison to Eddie's apparently easy bounty. I think it's the fatal combination of Organic and Lazy that is our downfall. I am nowhere near dedicated enough in the art of midnight slug removal and strangely Bill and Eddie seem to prefer reading about it to carrying it through themselves. They'd probably do it for money. Still, they are very keen waterers, we've had modest sunflower success and you never know maybe 2012 will, finally, be our year of the coveted bean den.

There are two other 'Eddie' books; 'Eddie's Kitchen and how to make good things to eat' which takes a similar approach to cooking with Eddie and Lily making bread, spaghetti in sauce, salad and carrot and orange cake (complete with recipes at the back) and 'Eddie's Toolbox and how to make and mend things'. In this newest volume, those who share my pleasure in back story extrapolation will be pleased to know that a dishy single Dad moves in next door to Eddie and proves Very Handy about the house...(More prosaically it also shows you how to make a bird feeder from scratch.)

'Eddie's Garden and How to Make things Grow' by Sarah Garland, pub Frances Lincoln,
isbn 978-1-84507-089-2

Bigger than a Blue Whale

2012-01-18T10:16:00.000Z

I think my boys run against stereotype (and quite right too- who likes a stereotype?) in generally having a marked preference for story over non fiction in their reading choices. Nevertheless reference books are obviously important and I do my best to bring in titles that will excite us all. History gets a lot of attention; partly due to the satisfyingly large cache of dead King Bills and King Eddies that the British Royal lineage can supply and partly due to the sheer amount of exciting Doom and Weaponry on offer. The frankly terrifying Black Death exhibit at the Museum of London is a well appreciated haunt of ours.

The other broad 'topic' that we regularly return to (other than toucans for which Eddie has something of a pash.) is Size. The bigger the better. The larger number the better. The contemplation of the infinite best of all.

This is difficult for any of us to get our heads round which I suppose is why we keep coming back to it. The Wonderwise series of reference titles is a fantastic resource. There are 20 of them, covering a wide range of topics, and in theory designed for the 3-6s or so I guess. We have them all (following a lucky find deal on the book people once), and have enjoyed them all, but our favourite is called 'Is a Blue Whale the Biggest Thing There is?' by Robert E. Wells. Here is the introduction:

'This is a book about the UNIVERSE , and other Very Big Things. So it uses Very Big numbers-even MILLIONS and BILLIONS.
To remind you just how big those numbers are, first try counting to a smaller number- ONE HUNDRED. At normal speed that should take about one minute. Keep counting, and you'll reach a THOUSAND in about 12 minutes.
If you decide to continue counting to a MILLION, don't plan on doing anything else for a while. Counting for a steady 10 hours a day, it will take about 3 weeks.
If you are REALLY ambitious and would like to count on to a BILLION, you'd better make that your career. Counting 12 hours a day, it will take you more than 50 years!
This book has some HUNDREDS and THOUSANDS, and LOTS of MILLIONS and BILLIONS. Will it give you big ideas? You can count on it!'

This is seriously useful stuff to me. I can't tell you how much time I spent on long car journeys as a child counting in my head and wondering how feasible it was to count to a million before we reached my Granny's house. Unsurprisingly, not at all as it turns out.

The book takes the starting point of a blue whale's fluke and then escalates out from there to provide visual evidence of how much bigger other things are. We move through a whole blue whale, Mount Everest, Earth, the Sun, Antares, the Milky Way and finally the Universe. The comparisons are startling shown in this way. There is a great picture for instance, of a putative 100 whales in a jar, and then a platform of 20 of those whale jars to show the size of Everest. It's a book designed for nurseries and Key Stage 1 children and it seriously makes me a little dizzy to read.
Bill became quite obsessed with big numbers after this- so much so- that he got into his first serious falling out with his best friend in the playground about whether Googolplex was a real number or whether he'd made it up.: 'My dad says it doesn't exist'...'well my mum says it does so nyah'...Hang on boys, apparently there aren't even a googol atoms in the Universe so I'm not sure it matters. And my brother told me that so it must be true.

'Is a Blue Whale the Biggest Thing There Is?' written Robert E. Wells, pub. Franklin Watts isbn 978-0-7496-6222-6

Willoughby wolves

2012-01-17T10:52:00.000Z

An unashamed return to a very old classic today. Joan Aiken is another author of my childhood who is proving entirely pleasurable to revisit and 'The Wolves of Willoughby Chase' may be her finest book. As I write that I immediately think of about 10 more of her books that I love and start my own internal argument. Hmm, yes, let's not rank them but merely observe that she was both a terrific writer for children and terrifically versatile; able to 'do' nail-chewing drama, snot-inducing funny, domestic magic and Eastern European folklore with equal ease. Don't miss her short story collections- especially if you come across any of the out of print ones. If you find a copy of 'All but a Few' send it to me...

I read 'The Wolves of Willoughby Chase' to Bill over Christmas. It's the first in a sequence of books she wrote set in a mythical period of English history: 'Shortly after the accession to the throne of Good King James 3rd in 1832. At this time, the Channel tunnel from Dover to Calais having been recently completed, a great many wolves, driven by severe winters, had migrated through the tunnel from Europe and Russia to the British Isles'. To some extent it stands apart from the rest of the sequence though as the story is the most complete in itself.
I love the idea of wolfish peril from the Chunnel; rather more romantic than a Sangatte full of desperate asylum seekers, but presumably equally infuriating to a mythical 1832 Daily Mail.

The story concerns privileged rich girl Bonnie who lives in the splendour of remote Willoughby Chase surrounded by loving servants and much indulged by her kindly parents. Her mother however is sick and must be taken on a round the world recuperative voyage by her father, and so impoverished orphan cousin Sylvia is brought to the house to be a playmate, and distant relative Miss Slighcarp engaged as Guardian and governess to take charge of both. There is a fantastic set piece early in the book detailing Sylvia's epic 24 hour train journey to reach Willoughby, sharing her compartment with the shadowy Mr Grimshaw. The train is held up and they are set upon by wolves.

'Sylvia screamed. Another instant, and a wolf precipitated itself through the aperture thus formed. It turned snarling on the sleeping stranger, who started awake with an oath, and very adroitly flung his cloak over the animal. He then seized one of the the shattered pieces of glass lying on the floor and stabbed the imprisoned beast through the cloak. It fell dead.
"Tush" said Sylvia's companion, breathing heavily and passing his hand over his face, "Unexpected- most."'

You can see from this extract that the language Aiken uses is rooted in the time period and is not always easy. Once I started reading it aloud I worried that it might be a too complicated choice and Bill seemed to be losing interest early- but a wolf leaping through a window and being stabbed through the heart is a pretty good wake up and from that point the story really accelerates in pace and he was hooked.

Miss Slighcarp and Mr Grimshaw turn out to be Proper Bad 'Uns. Once Bonnie and Sylvia are left in their care they proceed to sack all the servants and sell off all the household goods whilst keeping the girls prisoner. Worse still, news comes that the ship with Bonnie's parents in has sunk with no survivors and the girls are now completely in Miss Slighcarp's power. An ill planned escape goes wrong and the girls are taken to be drudges in Mrs. Brisket's School for Orphans. The miseries they endure there are recognisable to an adult reader familiar with Dickens or |Jane Eyre but for Bill were eye popping stuff. At the end of a particularly wretched chapter he was pleading with me to read on: 'I just need to know they'll be all right mum. I need to know.' Ah. Proper suffering. That's what I look to induce in my children through the written word. Great.

Relief does come in the final third of the book with their rescue by Bonnie's goose-farming, wolf savvy friend Simon who becomes the hero of the rest of the books in the sequence. The girls travel by foot to London, secure support and return to Willoughby with reinforcements for the final denouement and confrontation. As Miss Slighcarp is denounced, Bonnie's parents return miraculously recovered (I thought I could reveal that because you might have guessed.) and all is restored.

''"But Aunt Sophy," said Sylvia,"your tale must be so much more adventurous than ours! Were you not shipwrecked?"
"Yes, indeed we were!" said Lady Green laughing,"and your uncle and I spent six very tedious days drifting in a rowing-boat, our only fare being a monotonous choice of grapes and oranges , of which there happened to be a large crate in the dinghy, fortunately for us. We were then picked up by a small and most unsanitary fishing-boat, manned by a set of fellows as picturesque as they were unwashed, who none of them spoke a word of English...On this boat we received nothing to eat but sardines in olive oil. I am surprised these shocks and privitations did not carry me off, but Sir Willoughby maintains they were the saving of me"'

I am very happy for Bill to read as much 'Cows in Action' and 'Beast Quest' to himself as he likes but I like to save the really good stuff to read to him myself and this is really good stuff.

'The Wolves of Willoughby Chase' Joan Aiken, pub. Random House isbn 978-0-099-45663-6

Ronny Rock

2012-01-16T08:24:00.000Z

I was feeling mildly guilty about my slight preferences for nostalgia in reviewing but then found and completely fell for an almost new book in the children's bookshop this weekend. I bought it, brought it home to Bill, who read it in one sitting and satisfactorily made very similar snorty pig laughs all through that I myself had done in the shop.

'Ronny Rock starring in Monster Cake Meltdown' is by Merryn Threadgould and illustrated by Bruce Ingman. The Bruce Ingman factor was what made me initially pick it up; I was already a fan of his witty line and paint pictures in Allan Ahlberg's 'The Runaway Dinner'. Then the front cover reads; 'if you like cakes and bunging buns about and stinky stuff then this is the book for you!!'. Well yes. As previously discussed, we certainly like cakes and buns in this family and although personally I am less of a fan of the stinky stuff I know the rest of the household would disagree. Sold.

This is a format of book I'm not sure I've seen before: Picture book in size and indeed chocka full of great pictures, the story is divided into modest 'chapters' and has a reasonably meaty amount of text. It's a great crossover for newly confident readers. Even for established readers (and their, ahem, possibly text pushy mothers) it's nice to be reminded that pictures still rock and to feel that a publisher is prepared to invest in something a little more luxurious than the normal small, thin paperback with the pages already yellowing.

The story is of Ronny Rock; ' a very lucky boy'. He lives with his dad above his dad's baker's shop and he is allowed to choose a different cake every day for his lunch and for his tea because 'Mr Rock thought cake was good for growing boys.' This fact is accompanied by an inspiring diagram of some of the different sorts of cake baked by Mr Rock and the calculations needed to demonstrate that that equals 728 cakes a year. (Bill marked this fact with a small intake of breath; '728 cakes mum! 728.'). Ronny helps his dad with his special orders for birthday cakes; lovingly described by both writer and illustrator and familiar to any parent who has been faced with an overly complex cake request: I liked 'Sophie Barm wants a cake of some mice playing hopscotch on a cat'. (see also this weekend's Guardian http://www.guardian.co.uk/lifeandstyle/2012/jan/14/elaborate-birthday-cakes?fb=native&CMP=FBCNETTXT9038 )
One Friday, single parent Mr Rock goes to the cinema leaving Ronny in the care of cool but lovably gormless teenager Kieran and during their game of bun ping pong a missing cake request letter is discovered. Disaster. Kieran and Ronny must work to fufill the order on their own before it is due to be collected the next morning. The monster cake they construct is based on hated teacher Mr Bunt 'who had left teaching to become a slug farmer' and has a few monstrous twists for authenticity all Ronny's own. The next morning in the cake shop Ronny starts to worry about some of those twists but-too late- the cake is already being shown to the birthday boy and... well... it shouldn't be spoiled, but it's a cracking climax that involves fainting girls in pink princess dresses and a riot in the bakery. Crowd pleasing stuff for 7 year old boys and their mothers.

Bruce Ingman's pictures ping between and around the text; it's graphically really exciting to look at. Some are reasonably conventional full colour spreads opposite a page of text but the story is also told in diagrammatic form, comic strip form and laid out like a cookbook at points. Less confident readers will find much to draw them in. I hope it does well because I'd like more please.

Thankfully my own children (perhaps recognising their mother's limitations) have always been reasonably reasonable with their own cake requests. 'I'd like a round chocolate one with smarties on please'. Good boys. I hope this doesn't go giving them ideas....

'Ronny Rock starring in monster Cake Meltdown' written Merryn Threadgould, illus. Bruce Ingman pub. Walker isbn 978-1-4063-3597-7

Joseph

2012-01-14T10:09:00.000Z

Simms Taback also died!

Again a few weeks ago...It's amazing what you glean from looking at more up to date people's blogs.
Simms Taback is, I think, relatively unknown here in the UK sadly. We were fortunate to receive a copy of his biggest Caldecott medal winning hit in a baby book gift basket from the States (great idea) when Bill was born. Seven years later 'Joseph Had a Little Overcoat' is still one of everyone in the house's favourite books; receiving the Official Eddie Bed Book Tower mark of approval too.

It's a simple idea, executed to perfection. Based on an old Yiddish song it's the story of an Eastern European Jewish man's coat that gets 'old and worn' and gradually gets recycled into a jacket, waistcoat, scarf, handkerchief and button. When the button is finally lost, Joseph 'made a book about it' demonstrating the moral 'you can always make something out of nothing.' Very contemporary in these times of fashionable thrift for reasons ecological and financial.

Simms Taback was really an illustrator rather than writer and it's the pictures that make this book a treasure trove. Gorgeous, jewel-like colours and plenty of quirky detail ensure there's always something new to draw you in. The shrinking of the coat is accomplished visually in a series of clever cut outs. It's also full of Yiddish in-jokes; 'mix a shlemiel and shlimazel and you'll get a shmegegge' passes me by but I like finding them- a newspaper headline reads 'fiddler on roof falls off roof'... Just as 'Peepo' faithfully recreates wartime Croyden so this offers a glimpse into an exuberant, joyful, pre-Holocaust world of European Jewish community. That's not part of my ancestry to the best of my knowledge but if it is part of yours than this is a book your children should own.

Quirky fact of the day; Simms Taback was also the designer and illustrator of the first Mcdonald's Happy Meal box. Now there's a claim to fame.

'Joseph had a Little Overcoat', Simms Taback, pub. (in US) Viking isbn 0670878553

to the best of my knowledge there is no British edition of this book (I used to anglicise the text as I read it, as a waistcoat is referred to as a 'vest' and braces as 'suspenders'- but acknowlege this as unecessarily fernickerty of me) and you may therefore have trouble purchasing it in a Proper Bookshop here. It is, however, available from the dread but useful Amazon.

Edited on Sunday to add that Bill, learning of the sad news of Simm's death staged his own mini tribute in the form of choosing to eat his gingerbread man down 'Joseph's overcoat style' through the different garments and down to a button.

Food and Frances

2012-01-13T07:49:00.000Z

Russell Hoban died!

Well actually it seems he died a month ago, and he was 86 so it's not that surprising but I'm only just catching up with this news and I'm sad.
It does give me a lovely excuse to wallow in nostalgia once again and revisit his 'Frances' books. These were favourites of mine as a child and I'm glad to say also currently in favour with the younger generation in this household too.

It is slightly embarrassing to me (but not altogether surprising) to realise how many of my best top childhood book memories are based around the food they contained . Virtual eating was a big pleasure for me then and thinking about it, I enjoy a good cookbook now. I realised that my children shared this attribute when we all found ourselves poring over the chapter devoted to chocolate cakes in Nigella Lawson's 'Feast' recently having a healthy debate about which we should make next...(chocolate malteser cake won again despite some controversial support for the chocolate coconut Bounty cake) This is not the last time food is going to appear as an influence here.

The 'Frances' books of which I think there were about 7 but not all still in print are domestic stories of a girl and her family and her imaginative engagement with the world. Actually not dissimilar to Lauren Child's Lola. Except the girl and family in question are a family of badgers. I know, I know, I said I didn't like anthropomorphised tales but- there you go- my blog, my rules.
'Bread and Jam for Frances' was and is my favourite almost certainly because it's the foodiest. Frances doesn't like the look of her soft-boiled egg at breakfast so she decides she's going to forgo eggs in favour of bread and jam in the future. She sings a song to her egg...Frances sings a lot of songs and they're all excellent...for example:
'Poached eggs on toast, why do you shiver
With such a funny little quiver?'
At dinner time she feels the same way about her breaded veal cutlets with string beans and baked potatoes and again turns to bread and jam.
Clever Mother and Father of Frances model exactly how savvy parents should approach this problem of nourishing home cooked meal rejection by calmly accepting the new status quo and serving Frances bread and jam for every meal and snack thereafter (I should have reminded myself that that was the way to do it pre-conceptually...clearly works better that force feeding carrots into your weeping toddler's mouth in seething fury yelling 'But You Liked Them Yesterday'...heigh ho).
And thus slowly bread and jam starts to lose it's appeal, Frances's songs become a little more melancholy:
'Jam for snacks and jam for meals,
I know how a jam jar feels-
FULL...OF...JAM!'
and in the end she cracks and asks for her own plate of spaghetti and meatballs at dinner and rediscovers the joys of a varied diet. High five Mother and Father badger. result.

The real hero of this story is Frances's best friend at school; the gluttonous Albert. There's a fabulous full 3 pages in the middle of the book devoted to a loving description of Albert laying out and consuming his packed lunch at school while Frances slightly mournfully compares her bread and jam. I'm quite tempted to treat you to the full description but it's REALLY long so I'll give you the final third.

'He took a bite of sandwich, a bite of pickle, a bite of hard-boiled egg, and a drink of milk. Then he sprinkled more salt on the egg and went around again. Albert made the sandwich, the pickle, the egg and the milk come out even. He ate his bunch of grapes and his tangerine. Then he cleared away the crumpled-up waxed paper, the eggshell, and the tangerine peel. He set the cup custard in the middle of the napkin onhis desk. He took up his spoon and ate up all the custard. Then Albert folded up his napkins and put them away. he put away his cardboard saltshaker and his spoon. He screwed the cup on top of his thermos bottle. He shut his lunch box, and put it back inside his desk, and sighed.
"I like to have a good lunch." said Albert.'

I should say that reading this book aloud used to drive my husband slightly insane. He really couldn't see the point of these long descriptions, meanwhile Bill, Eddie and I would be salivating, hanging on each word. He's not as food orientated as the rest of us. Reading this book as a child in 70's Britain, where sandwiches were made from white sliced bread and might contain a strange substance called 'sandwich spread'. Albert and Frances's packed lunches seemed unbelievably, wonderfully exotic...at the end of the book she has olives and a lobster salad sandwich for goodness sakes. Now Eddie requested 'rye' for his own sandwiches last week...we've clearly moved on. Mother and Father Badger...I'm learning.

'Bread and Jam for Frances', written Russell Hoban, illus. Lillian Hoban, pub Harper Collins isbn-13 978-0060838003

Instructions

2012-01-12T09:35:00.000Z

This one's a bit newer at least, although again Neil Gaiman is not exactly a struggling unknown. I picked this up when our local lovely independent bookshop was closing down and selling off its remaining children's stock. sob.
'Instructions' is a difficult to categorise curiousity, but one I am drawn back to and so, more importantly, are my boys. It is what it says; a series of instructions for navigating an adventure or possibly a life in a kind of fairy tale format with no particular order or end in sight. In the illustrations by Charles Vess, an heroic hybrid fox/cat (no- it is a cat I think- a Maine Coon perhaps) strides through a landscape inhabited by figures familiar by name or type from traditional tales around the world. It feels a little as though you've entered a Serious version of Shrek-land. The colours are muted, almost sombre; purposefully timeless, the pictures are just the right side of scary.

Sample instruction;

'Remember:
that giants sleep too soundly;
that witches are often betrayed by their appetites;
dragons have one soft spot,
somewhere,always;
hearts can be well-hidden,
and you betray them with your tongue.'

I can imagine that this sort of semi-profound semi-nonsense might really irritate some but it beguiles me. There is an undercurrent of humour throughout and a playfulness that stops it becoming pompous.

Were I a primary school teacher I can see this would be a fantastic starting point for a module discussing traditional tales, oral traditions and a spot of creative writing getting children to make their own book of instructions. That almost sounds like a criticism (!) but is not intended as such- it's not 'worthy'. I find both Bill and Eddie quite often coming back to this for more and it's one that, whilst not absorbing them for long periods, seems to spark off other thoughts and conversations. Eddie tends to like to spot fairy tale characters he knows within the pictures but Bill will ponder the 'answers' to the instructions and spin off on his own narrative tangent from it in interesting ways.

chewy. whimsical if that word doesn't make you wince. and a Nice Object which would make a quirky Christening or new baby gift. I should add here that this is probably the gift for boys (although not by any means a book for just boys- but it is a definite 'he' being instructed) and Gaiman and Vess have collaborated on another title; 'Blueberry Girl' which apparently celebrates the mother /daughter relationship; I have yet to read but would love to hear comments from anyone who has.

'When you reach the little house,
the place your journey started,
you will recognise it, although it will seem
much smaller than you remember.
Walk up the path, and through the garden
gate you never saw before but once.
And then go home.
Or make a home.
Or rest.'

'Instructions' written Neil Gaiman, illus. Charles Vess, pub, Bloomsbury isbn 978-1-4088-0864-1

Peepo

2012-01-11T10:49:00.000Z

I realise that in moving seamlessly from Roald Dahl to the Ahlbergs I'm not exactly in the territory of hidden gems or New Worlds but a glass or two of red wine with a friend in the pub last night reinvigorated a debate about the back story of 'Peepo'. This dominated my sleep deprived, raddled brain in the early days of parenthood to such an extent I thought it worth visiting. Plus, you know, they're the Ahlbergs, they've got to to get an early starring part.

Board book 'Peepo' was given to Bill when he was about 3 months old and as we were just embarking on the crazed idea that we might get him into some sort of bedtime routine, it was the book I picked to read to him nightly to introduce the concept of a full stop to the day. To be frank, advanced and genius-like though he obviously was, he wasn't going to get much more out of it at that stage than listening to the rather nice lullaby lilt of the rhyming text. It reads aloud well (of course it does, it's the Ahlbergs). It was our 'Go the f*** to sleep' book.

The book tells the story of a day-in-the-life of a family during the second world war from the perspective of a baby. Each spread contains a cutout peephole which when turned reveals a lovingly rendered vignette of family life, rich in detail and tiny new things to spot. This is a great book for going through with an 18 month old or so, who's going through a language spurt and wants to point at tiny ladybirds, bricks, or teacups etc. on pages (although in the case of 'Peepo' some of the language they may acquire may be of little practical use to them, 'hairnets' and 'stocking nets' anyone?)

Reading it night in and night out however the detail began to torture me in unexpected ways. There is a backstory revealed here which the casual reader might miss at first. Dad starts the day in his civvy clothes and is doing dad type jobs around the house but the book ends with him in full soldier garb kissing his baby goodnight and ...goodbye? NOOOooo! I became increasingly concerned that this was a first tragedy for the very young; 'When did you last see your father?' in picture book form. I did like the fact that in the middle page, Grandma takes the baby and his big sisters to the park- presumably to give Mum and Dad a bit of a break- nudge nudge- and in the next panel on their return Dad has changed his clothes and Mum has fallen asleep. As long as she's not pregnant again... NOOOooo!!

Sharing these worries with my husband I began to dig deeper. He entered fully into the spirit of the inquiry and reassured me with the fact that a particular silhouette of an aeroplane in the distance (we're talking miniscule here) of the park scene is clearly of a model that wasn't introduced until late 1944 so we must be nearing the end of the war. Comforting nerdery. There's also a nice picture of Mr. Churchill on the wall with Union Jack and USA flags entwined so the Yanks are in. In one picture there's a calendar on the wall that I squinted at repeatedly to get an angle...without much joy for my unravelling mind. I started trawling the internet to look for interviews about the book to reassure me but came up with nothing. I even went as far as looking through back issues of Picture Post to try and identify the cover that Mum is holding while she dozes.

At some point I suppose, Bill began to sleep better, so did I, and we all wanted a bit more variety in our reading matter. Few texts can survive the level of scrutiny and unpicking that I subjected 'Peepo' to and remain fresh. I pore over it more happily now still appreciative of the detail. I can see it will have a second life as soon as Bill gets onto the Second World War as inevitable school topic- it's a great recreation of the home front. And, after all, as my friend remarked in the pub last night..'Maybe he's just in the home guard?'

Still, if you're planning an Ahlberg baby gift for a new parent you know...to save potential trauma you might like to go for 'The Baby Catalogue' or 'Each Peach, Pear, Plum' instead?

'Peepo', Janet and Allan Ahlberg, pub Penguin Books, isbn 0-670-87176-1

Pop up Charlie

2012-01-10T10:18:00.000Z

Eddie my younger son has a long history of sleeping with books. His first obsession was with Lucy Cousin's 'Hooray for Fish' to which I shall certainly give proper consideration at some point. He carried it around with him like a comfort blanket from about the age of 1 and snuggled up to it (along with his purple magnetic letter S -but that's another story) in bed. He now sleeps surrounded by a tower of books on all sides and I worry slightly that I will find him crushed one morning like the princess's pea under a layer of hardback picture books. He favours a weighty tome. I worry even more since my husband read a history of Chairman Mao which revealed that he had a specially constructed bed on a slant to cope with the weight and amount of books that he too liked to sleep with, but Eddie's similarity to Chairman Mao hopefully will end there...

His current obsession (he goes in for obsessions) is Roald Dahl and particularly a beautiful new pop up version of Charlie and the Chocolate Factory that I knew had his name on it as soon as I saw it in the bookshop. Quentin Blake in 3D! Hooray! Finally it is possible to almost literally (almost- mind) enter that chocolate factory and dive after Augustus Gloop into the river should you wish to.

Eddie holds the page open where the chocolate factory gates spring up to you and presses his nose up to them in much the same way as a starved Charlie Bucket. He also enjoys unwrapping a chocolate bar within and revealing his own golden ticket again and again.

The text is abridged but not to the point of desecration; obviously purists should have the original as well. The pop up tricks are fabulous; illustrations extending round the back of the book, and robust enough to cope with the treatment he has been meting out to it daily. My particular favourites are the pull tags with which you can help the bad children along to their fate, eg. rolling the violet Violet as giant blueberry along or tugging the appalling Veruca down the chute. Pulling them out makes the children disappear and reveals the Oompa Loompa's song of their downfall. Most satisfying.

The final page has the Great Glass Elevator shooting out the top of the book just like breaking through the factory roof. I hope they make the sequel now...but feel a frisson of fear at what those paper artists might do with the Vermicious Knids...

This was Eddie's choice to take into school on 'take a toy to school' day. It's also part of the bed tower...the highest accolade he can award.

I have just edited out photos I took where the smears of chocolate beetroot cake can be seen on the kitchen worksurface..but maybe I should have left them in for authenticity. Must clean kitchen worksurface now.

'Charlie and the Chocolate Factory Pop-Up Book' Roald Dahl, illustrated by Quentin Blake and designed by The Story Works, pub. Puffin, isbn 978-0-141-32887-4

Bonting

2012-01-09T10:40:00.000Z

There's going to be a bit of Shirley Hughes featuring here. She writes beautifully! She draws beautifully! I am in awe of her multi-tasking. I was recently recommending her work to a friend with a two year old son in Singapore. She was moved to invest heavily in a big UK Amazon order but I'm still waiting to hear what she thinks. The thing about all her books is they are so visually, seasonally and culturally rooted in Britain that I'm not sure what happens to them when read in the steam and colour of an equatorial upbringing. Maybe they'll feel pleasingly exotic and other worldly to Ingo, or maybe just irrelevant; I hope not.

I can think of few other authors who can connect into the consciousness and concerns of a three or four year old better than Shirley Hughes. Her stories are domestic in scope and tone but they have a warmth and reality that appeals to me far more than some anthropomorphised tale of stoats going to space say. They also have a seriousness in considering those childish concerns which makes them feel important to my kids and my kids/any kids themselves therefore get to be important.

One of my favourite of her stories features in 'The Big Alfie Out of Doors storybook' and is called 'Bonting'.
Alfie finds a stone in the garden which feels comforting in his pocket and 'by the end of the day, Alfie had decided that the stone had become a real friend and he called it Bonting.' Alfie's mum tells him that Bonting is thousands and thousands of years old which makes him even more special to Alfie and he is made his own bed from a box and his own hat and scarf and bathing suit from a scrap of left over material.
Then Alfie and his family go to the seaside for the day with Bonting. (One of the ways in which Shirley Hughes is brilliant is that she applies equal weight to describing the preparations and tedious hot car journey to get there as she does the loveliness of the arrival- She understands that children don't differentiate their experiences in the way adults do and there is interest in everything)
The family have a lovely day at the beach...but at packing up time...DISASTER...Bonting is lost. The whole family search and search with proper seriousness. 'there were stones everywhere, hundreds and hundreds of them, but not one was wearing a green and black striped bathing suit.' Eventually they are forced to give up and head home.

'"But we can't leave Bonting behind!" wailed Alfie. "He'll be all lonely on the beach at night!"
Dad put his arm around Alfie and explained that Bonting wouldn't be lonely because he would have so many other stones to keep him company. So he wouldn't mind at all.'

I know you're worrying...but it all ends up okay...Bonting is discovered the next morning at the bottom of Alfie's little sister Annie Rose's bucket when the seaside treasure of the day before is being sorted through. AND mum promises to make him a new red bathing suit to make him easier to spot on future outings. phew.

There can be few of us that haven't had a 'Bonting moment' when some precious item of our childrens was lost or worse discarded. Eddie decided to bring much of his substantial 'stone museum' back from the beach on holiday this summer and they surround him in bed. (Just as well we weren't flying Ryanair) I am not as good as Alfie's mother though as they still swim and sleep naked...

I apologise for the condition of these photos...(not my strong suit to start with) Our much loved copy of this book met an accident with an open water bottle in the back of the car and despite a long stay in first the oven and then the airing cupboard, never really recovered. I really should buy a new copy!

'The Big Alfie Out of Doors Storybook' Shirley Hughes, pub.The Bodley Head, isbn 0-370-31516-2

Back to the beginning

2012-01-06T13:07:00.000Z

Books for babies... I'm not sure there was such a thing when I was a baby (my memory is hazy on the subject). I guess there were the fabric sort, perhaps minus the modern day excitements of crinkly patches, beepers, bells and zips, but I'm not sure the board book had been invented way back then. Babies ate their parents' newspaper and waited to grow into the proper stuff.

Now of course there is a whole section of any self respecting bookshop specifically catering for the needs of the under 2s. This is of course a Good Thing but the proliferation of texts for older children being turned into miniaturised board books for the very very young I find somewhat mystifying. I just don't think an under 2 needs a copy of 'The Snail and the Whale' yet and the 3 year old who does would prefer the illustrations BIG please, no matter that the corners get ratty with use. A board book 'Flat Stanley' is probably already in production.

Both Bill and Eddie enjoyed a good selection of chewable interactive baby books from the beginning. We had the full set; fabric books (with ALL 21st century's finest squeaky bits and rattly bits), wipeable sponge bath books, 'feely' page books, books with just mesmerising high contrast black and white images in them, books with peekaboo flaps, books with spinning wheels, books with photos of other babies faces. All were appreciated to the point of disintegration. I can still recite the whole of Bill's particular favourite 'Baby Boo':

'wakey wakey sleepy baby, kiss kiss I love you, tickle tickle smiley baby, do you want to play? baby knows just what to do. baby baby where are you? peekaboo it's you! (obligatory mirror on last page)

We read it A Lot.

The 'That's Not My (insert whatever you like eg. pony, robot, monster, kitten etc.) series by Usborne are pretty fine examples of the genre...and must do well as I chuckled at the adult parodies this Christmas: 'OMG- That's Not My Child' and 'OMG- That's Not My Husband'.

But the first 'proper' text or story that I can remember being conscious had gripped Bill was Jez Alborough's lovely 'Hug'...which we did have in board book format as it happens.

'Hug' tells the story of a lost baby chimp Bobo who wanders through the jungle spotting other baby animals snuggling their mums (or perhaps dads) and saying the single word 'hug' as he see them. The realisation slowly dawns on him that he hasn't got anyone to cuddle him and the word hug becomes first a question and then a cry for his own parent. An elephant helps him and his mum is found who obviously has been searching anxiously for him too and the book ends with a great collective relieved hug from assembled company. 'Hug', 'Bobo' and 'Mum' are the only three words in the book but the nuances distilled from them are skillfully extracted.

I remember reading it to Bill before he could talk and not being sure whether he really 'got' it only to have him burst into tears at the moment of peril when Bobo realises he's lost, followed by spontaneous laughter when his mother reappeared. Yay. He did 'get it'. It was great to share his first proper immersion into a story. Thanks Jez.

'Hug', Jez Alborough pub.Walker books isbn 0-7636-1576-5

Once upon a time...

2012-01-05T10:45:00.000Z

seems like a good opening for a new adventure.

Let's start with the inspiration for the title of this blog- Ursula Moray Williams; 'Adventures of the Little Wooden Horse' was first published in 1938 but still nails just what a good children's book should be. I can remember my dad reading it to me, sitting on the end of my bed taking occasional sips of his customary evening whisky whilst I curled under my covers agog and occasionally aghast; this is no saccharine tale.

Uncle Peder is a toy maker and peddler who walks from village to village selling his wooden toys. He makes the little wooden horse so fine that he is too expensive for anyone to buy, but in any case the wooden horse breaks down in tears at the thought of being separated from his master: 'Oh master, I don't want to leave you! I am a quiet little horse, I don't want to be sold. I want to stay with you for ever and ever...' And so Uncle Peder and his horse become friends and companions for life, with the wooden horse carrying the sack of toys and holding all the money in his hollow wooden body which can be reached conveniently by unscrewing his head.

Jeopardy has to follow of course. The wooden toy market collapses due to the import of cheap tin toys in new toy shops and the peddler economy collapses (sound fresh?). Uncle Peder becomes penniless and ill and collapses and although he is taken in by an old woman, she chases the wooden horse away with an axe not realising his importance to Uncle Peder.
And so the little wooden horse sets out on his adventures:

"'I must go and seek my fortune', said the little wooden horse.
He thought how splendid it would be to come back to Uncle Peder full of coins. He would take off his head and pour out the money through the hole in his neck. Then they would both be rich and happy, and Uncle Peder would only make toys for fun and for poor children who had none.
'For I am strong, and a quiet little horse,' said the little wooden horse. 'I ought to make my fortune very quickly.'"

They are pretty darn good adventures. From this point the wooden horse gets indentured to an evil farmer, escapes and joins a barge pulling race, gets transported across the sea with a circus elephant, becomes a pit pony (and goes blind! (briefly thankfully, but the horror of that revelation remains with me still)), pulls a royal procession carriage, wins a race, joins the circus, is abused by a nursery of rough children, almost drowns in a river, becomes a beach donkey, swims the ocean (also very traumatic...bad sea wave horses...), befriends a pirate, visits a treasure island and finally finds his way back home to Uncle Peder...only to find the cottage burnt down and abandoned.

There may be a happy ending but I don't want to give too much away.

The beauty of this book to read aloud is in its construction: Each chapter is a self contained adventure for the little wooden horse although some end on a cliff hanger that makes you long for the next bedtime installment. Terrible terrible things happen to the little wooden horse but they are balanced out by other lovely things too making it just exciting enough to bear....and throughout his fortitude, tremendous courage and modesty make him one of literature's most admirable creations.

As my father read it to me it was my first choice book to read to my oldest son at about 5 when I judged he was ready to hear something without pictures that could be sustained over several nights. I was horrified to discover at that point that it had gone out of print for the first time since publication but managed to get a unlovely second hand copy without trouble. I was delighted to discover a new hardback edition recently in my favourite children's bookshop, complete with original illustrations. I've just read it again to my second son also as he turned 5 (with his now 7 year old brother listening in and appreciating it all over again). A completely satisfying read.

Adventures of the Little Wooden Horse, Ursula Moray Williams, pub. Macmillan hb
isbn 978-0-230-75495-9