Skip to main content

Joshua's Library

 I have kids' books on the brain....and I may have a few suggestions.....so, herewith, an update on Joshua's library:


*There's a wonderful essay about James Marshall's technique at the back of "The Collected George and Martha." The writer discusses Marshall's way of subtracting, subtracting, subtracting, so that the reader is required to make inferences and guesses. Marshall became *more* adept at subtracting (and the text became sparer) as he went along. 


The writer also discusses Marshall's gift for surprise; the best of the stories don't seem schematic, in any way. For example, in "The French Lesson," it's genuinely bracing (to me, at least) when Martha says, "I knew you were going to do that." And, in another story, when snakes pop up out a cake box, I'm actually caught off guard. (And don't get me started on the twists in "The Misunderstanding" ....) It's said that Marshall was an heir of Tomi Ungerer's--and I see that same twisty-ness and understatement in Ungerer's work. Who can anticipate the arrival of the mer-pig, in "The Mellops Go Diving for Treasure"--? And what do we make of the quiet, haunting, spare ending to "Rufus the Bat"? I could read these books again and again with Joshua.


*Another favorite of mine is Jerry Pinkney. Pinkney isn't really a writer, but, still, he absorbs the stories he adapts, so you feel he is using his voice even when he isn't. My husband and I are a bit obsessed with "The Three Little Kittens" -- an old rhyme, but also an occasion for Pinkney to seduce you with bizarrely realistic, detailed kittens, going crazy with soap bubbles and spilling shiny jam all over their mittens. You look at the mittens and think: This guy Jerry Pinkney spends hours and hours contemplating how light hits a piece of wool at a certain time of year. That's extraordinary.


*Finally, we in this house are happy to return to "Locomotive," by Brian Floca (mainly for the pictures). It's especially therapeutic to see a steam train charging through the West when we're all so homebound and Covid-controlled. I also think--one day--Josh will be interested to learn that you couldn't poop if your steam train was stopped in a station (bad manners). The toilet was just a hole in the floor, so if you left your poop at a stop, you forced your friends and colleagues to smell, and smell, your waste--possibly for several hours. Who can pass up a picture book with a scenario like that?


My two cents....

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

How to Host a Baby

-You have assumed responsibility for a mewling, puking ball of life, a yellow-lab pup. He will spit his half-digested kibble all over your shoes, all over your hard-cover edition of Jennifer Haigh's novel  Faith . He will eat your tables, your chairs, your "I {Heart] Montessori" magnet, placed too low on the fridge. When you try to watch Bette Davis in  Hush Hush Sweet Charlotte , on your TV, your dog will bark through the murder-prologue, for no apparent reason. He will whimper through Lena Dunham's  Girls , such that you have to rewind several times to catch every nuance of Andrew Rannells's ad-libbing--and, still, you'll have a nagging suspicion you've missed something. Your dog will poop on the kitchen floor, in the hallway, between the tiny bars of his crate. He'll announce his wakefulness at 5 AM, 2 AM, or while you and another human are mid-coitus. All this, and you get outside, and it's: "Don't let him pee on my tulips!" When...

Joshie

  When I was growing up, a class birthday involved Hostess cupcakes. Often, the cupcakes would come in a shoebox, so you could taste a leathery residue (during the party). Times change. You can't bring a treat into a public school, in 2024, because heaven knows what kind of allergies might lurk, in unseen corners, in the classroom. But Joshua's teacher will allow: a dance party, a pajama day, or a guest reader. I chose to bring a story for Joshua's birthday (observed), but I didn't think through the role that anxiety might play in this interaction. We talk, in this house, quite a bit about anxiety; one game-changer, for J, has been a daily list of activities, so that he knows exactly what to expect. He gets a look of profound satisfaction when he sees the agenda; it doesn't really matter what the specific events happen to be. It's just about knowing, "I can anticipate X, Y, and Z." Joshua struggled with his celebration. He wore his nervousness on his f...

Josh at Five

 Joshie's project is "flexibility"; the goal is to see that a plan is just an idea, not a gospel, not a guarantee. This is difficult. Yesterday, we went to a restaurant--billed as "open," with unlocked doors--and the owner informed us of an "error in advertising." But Joshie couldn't accept the word "closed." He threw himself on the floor, then climbed on the furniture. I felt for the owner, until he nervously made a reference to "the glass windows." He imagined that my child might toss himself through a sealed window, like Mary Katherine Gallagher, or like Bruce Willis, in "Die Hard." Then--thank the Lord!--I was able to laugh. The thing that really has therapeutic value for Joshie is: a firetruck. If we are out in public, and he spots a parked truck, he wants to climb on each surface. He breathlessly alludes to the wheels, the door, the windows. If an actual fire station ("fire ocean," in Joshie's parla...