Liars and Saints

  "Hazel's Amazing Mother" is centered on a raccoon, Hazel, who is like a new version of Little Red Ridinghood. She has cash from her mom; her goal is to find goodies for an upcoming picnic. She sets out with her doll, Eleanor, but she keeps getting waylaid. In a dark wood, Hazel encounters a nasty chipmunk--Doris, an agent of chaos. Without explanation, Doris and her minions assault the doll Eleanor. The carriage-toy gets disemboweled. Eleanor is dropped in a puddle. Through the power of filial love, Hazel is able to summon her mother. A great gust of wind carries Mom's picnic blanket-cum-airplane--carries this item way, way, way across the countryside. In the dark wood, Mom rescues Hazel. She puts Doris through a "natural-consequence" workout. ("Fix the doll. Fix the carriage.") And the picnic occurs--just as envisioned. I like Rosemary Wells's sense of freedom. She does not have to "explain" the root cause of Doris's nastiness....

  One of my favorite picture books is "Yoko," by Rosemary Wells. I'm not alone; this ranks high with Judy Blume, and with Dwight Garner, the critic for the Times. Wells understands the concept of high stakes. This is a thriller for children. It's immediately riveting. A little cat brings sushi to school--and her entire class mocks and rejects her. Who, among child-readers, wouldn't immediately relate to (and start worrying about) this cat? The cat's well-intentioned teacher believes that she can create a "teachable moment" with an International Food Day. Everyone will have to try each dish. But, like so many adult efforts, this one backfires. The dogs and woodland creatures simply continue to avoid the sushi platter. Here is where things get subversive. If the cat isn't going to convert all the pedestrian minds in her classroom, then how can she find something like a happy ending? The answer is surprising, and it "works"; it feels like ...

  After an emphatic non-literary period, my son has returned to books. This is the greatest thing. I don't really know what Josh is absorbing, but I know he is happy to sit on my lap and half-listen to the stories of Rosemary Wells. I love these stories, so the pleasure is unfeigned, and this is one of the easiest half-hour segments in any particular day (for now). Rosemary Wells is.a role model for Judy Blume--and how could you ask for a fancier pedigree? Wells pays close attention to how people actually behave, and you can see this work in the subtlety of her stories. For example, two little bullies want to tease a small kid for wearing water wings to a pool party. The bullies don't understand that they're bullies--and they persuade themselves that squeezing the little boy tightly, brutally, is just a way of "giving a hug." In another story, a rabbit buys oozing wax fangs "for Grandma," but then he shoves the fangs in his own mouth and makes them ooze,...

 My son has entered his "cause-and-effect" stage. Every cup must be tipped over; it's a delight to see the coffee spill to the ground, the seltzer, the prune juice. Josh takes full Morton salt cylinders and lets the salt rain down; I find little white piles in the kitchen and in the dining room. Another project is to extract and destroy items from my office: the train pass, the subway pass, the bookmark. Don't get me started on light switches. We're reading: *"Bunny Cakes," Rosemary Wells. Masterpiece, start to finish. *"George and Martha: The Secret Club." Great writing becomes sublime when we spot George's tricorn hat.... *"Cinderella's Rat," by Susan Meddaugh. We haven't started; it's on hold at the library. The title seems perfect -- and consider that it's an account of the Royal Ball from the perspective of a rat/coachman. I just have a sense that this is a winner. Happy weekend.