Liars and Saints

  Why do artists do their work?  Someone asked Alice Munro about the Nobel Prize, and she said the recognition was nice, "but it's the writing, the life of writing, that sustains me."  (On the other hand, we have Wickie, filming her own story in "Girls5eva." Looking at the viewer, she says, "Music is my life. And I don't do it for the money....or the awards.....I do it for BOTH!") In Tomie dePaola's "Legend of the Indian Paintbrush," we see a little gay kid who doesn't want to fight or hunt. It worries him that he has so little interest in a conventional path; he thinks he ought to talk himself into doing something he doesn't want to do. But God appears and says, "Look, you're actually here to paint the sunset--and everything around you that you see. You can mope, or you can get to work." What follows is a difficult, joyful, artistic life. The little kid discovers discipline--and he makes a deliberate choice to p...

 I do not have the best coping skills--and I'm concerned this trait has reproduced itself in my daughter. Having read nothing about antibiotics, I thought it would be a genius move to disguise amox-clav in a cup of Lactaid. My daughter took one sip and threw her cup to the floor. In fact, the "disguise" method can backfire--because your child then rejects *both* the medicine and the life-sustaining milk that you try to give to her.  I attempt sing-song cheeriness; I attempt loud, exaggerated empathy; I attempt effusive praise. Eventually, I grow weary, and I try to level with my daughter: "This drug just isn't all  that  bad." (My spouse objects to this approach; quietly, he says, "Listen, she is gagging.") I do think that my daughter is wonderfully literary; she has a fondness for Sandra Boynton that seems off-the-charts. (If you try to tell me that every child in America has this same level of fondness, I will politely disagree.) I'm on a cam...

  Restless, endlessly creative, Tomie dePaola would sometimes borrow from relig ion to tell a new story. His mother, an Irish Catholic, urged Tomie to write about Patrick, the Patron Saint of Ireland, and this ultimately became a major assignment for Tomie. Many of us think of Patrick driving the snakes out of Ireland, but dePaola gives us more. His little drama has Patrick kidnapped from the mainland and taken off to Ireland -- to live as an enslaved person. One day, Patrick spots a boat that could transport him back to his family. The captain rejects Patrick -- too dangerous! -- but a group of baying hounds won't allow the ship to leave. "We like that human over there." Patrick wins a victory through the intercession of the hounds. In later life, Patrick attempts to convert various Irish people to Christianity. "If your God is so great," says a compatriot, "why are we all starving?" And Patrick's God instantly produces a large heap of succulent h...

 Tomie dePaola hit a homerun when he discussed his grandmothers -- but he had great success with grandfather stories, as well.  "Tom" shows us dePaola's Irish grandfather, who works as a butcher. "We were named after each other," says Grandpa (bizarrely). "So you will call me Tom, and I will call you Tommy." This is a symbiotic relationship. Tom gets noisy--this is easy to imagine--and his wife becomes exasperated. "Tom Downey, you are louder than all the Irish," she says, and this is Tom's cue to retreat to his man-cave, a room in the cellar. Little Tommy offers him admiring company. In turn, Tom teaches Tommy how to sift ashes in an old-fashioned furnace. Tom also teaches Tommy about patience: "If you bury this chicken head in your garden, then wait three days without looking, you'll get a full chicken." Tom knows that the three-day part will be impossible for Tommy, and so.....lessons learned. The gentle story builds unti...

  I needed to restock Joshua's supply of library books, so I borrowed "Peter's Chair," "Fog Island," and "Nana Upstairs and Nana Downstairs." This last book is like the blue-ribbon standard when you think of children's literature. Tomie dePaola sometimes told folk tales, and he sometimes tried expository writing, but a special part of his life was devoted to autobiography. When he draws on his childhood--in "Oliver Button," "The Baby Sister," "The Art Lesson," "Nana Upstairs"--he really seems to enjoy himself. In "Nana Upstairs," young Tomie feels proud that he has a living grandmother *and* a living great-grandmother. The great-grandmother "lives upstairs" -- perhaps to hold on to one symbolic piece of independence -- and Tomie often visits. Nana Upstairs needs cloth restraints when she eats, so Tomie, in an act of love, requests his *own* set of cloth restraints. The boy and his grea...

  A friend recently noticed that Tomie dePaola is "in the air." Kevin Henkes has a new book arriving in a few weeks--and it contains the first direct dePaola homage that I know of. As my friend observed, Henkes includes an image of a house that is very clearly "ripped from the pages" of dePaola. Often, dePaola was writing "coming-out" stories just underneath the actual text that he was producing. A boy is told he must do certain things to get along, and he tries in a halfhearted way, and finally he decides just to be himself--and the world adapts. That's the story of "Oliver Button Is a Sissy": Oliver turns his back on football to become Gloria Swanson, in the spotlight. (Oliver doesn't win his Talent Show, but an admirer leaves him with some graffiti: "Oliver Button Is a Star.") In "The Art Lesson," little Tommy can't tolerate his oppressive nun-guardians. The nuns want Tommy to trace paper turkeys during art clas...

 Tomie dePaola dreamed up several worlds: the Calabria setting of the "Strega Nona" books, the nostalgic real-world realms of the "Tommy" stories, the Egyptian palaces of the "Bill and Pete" trilogy, the canine schoolyard that belongs, in part, to the "Barker" twins. In his spare time, dePaola sketched movie stars, saints, various pets. DePaola also invented "Helga's Dowry," a feminist adventure, in which a troll can't marry because her dowry won't suffice. The troll--Helga--tells her boyfriend to wait for her, then runs out and scares up her *own* wealth. She trades magic Troll Juice to nearby humans--for gold. She cuts down trees for a wealthy landowner, and she scores a profit. Meanwhile, Inge, a rival troll, tries to steal Helga's boyfriend. It seems she has succeeded: A marriage date is set. We think we're reading about Helga's race to *best* Inge....but there's a twist. Helga won't have a husband wh...

 "I see Salvy has put on his own COVID FIFTEEN." These were among the sitter's first words when she visited on Friday.  I'm really to blame. I'm uninterested in housework, so after Josh throws his lunch all over the floor, I don't reach for the Hoover. I just reach for Salvy. Salvy and Josh are like the symbiotic pairs you study in high school, the bird/crocodile buddies who look after each other. Josh feeds Salvy; Salvy does the cleaning.  A part of me thinks Salvy could just have a few "tubby years" -- where we all don't worry about dieting -- and Josh will learn not to throw his food around (eventually). And then an ideal canine weight can be achieved. But maybe I give in too easily. For curious minds: Salvy himself seems unconcerned about the weight gain. If it's hot outside, Salvy will plop his belly on the cool surface of the tub, and he'll stay there for many hours. He won't confine himself to solids; milk and bacon-grease also...

"Oliver Button" is the tale of a proto-gay kid, a boy who would rather not play football, a boy who would like to dance. Oliver's parents--initially baffled--decide to sign Oliver into a dance class. (You sense Tomie dePaola's eloquent silence here. What kinds of fights have transpired between the parents? Oliver hasn't noticed them; we, the readers, will not notice them.) Dance works wonders for Oliver--but, at the same time, life trudges on; villains berate Oliver with sidewalk graffiti. ("Oliver Is a Sissy.") With quiet heroism, Oliver prepares for a Talent Show; we witness the show, and we think Oliver might win. And yet the victor is Roxie Valentine. Ah, well. Time for a celebratory pizza. There is a final, startling coda: Oliver returns to school and notices that someone has crossed out the word "Sissy." In its place, you see the word "Star." I like this book for the obvious reason (it's my life story), but I also like the s...

 Friends wrote with book suggestions: Tomie dePaola's "The Baby Sister," along with "Mail Harry to the Moon" and "That New Animal." The latter two are in COVID "processing limbo," at my library, so I expect I'll have them soon. One friend mailed a few editions of the Frances books; at a certain point, Frances gets a baby sister, Gloria. "Baby Sister for Frances" handles family tension in a sweet way: Frances seems to like Gloria, and Frances isn't particularly outraged at the new family-shape. She just calmly decides to "run away from home," makes this announcement, then plants herself under the dining-room table. Her parents continue to chat with her while she is "in exile," and eventually she climbs back out and eats a piece of cake. Tomie dePaola's memory of acquiring a baby sister is also sweet (though there is some relatable drama, as well). When Mom goes off to have the baby, "Tommy" i...

"The Art Lesson" is about a young artist who really dislikes his Kindergarten art curriculum (at least, this is what I recall). The teacher insists that all kids make cut-out turkeys in one specific way--or something like this--and young Tomie ("Tommy") rebels. He has to follow his inner voice. He has a vision of a turkey, and it's not like anyone else's turkey. I like to think that the title, "The Art Lesson," is double-edged. Tomie is submitting to a lesson, on the surface, but really Tomie is *giving* the lesson. Tomie is teaching the teacher something important about art. That's how I read it. I continue to miss this guy.

Like James Marshall, Arnold Lobel, Maurice Sendak, James Howe, Howard Ashman, and Tim Federle, Tomie dePaola was a gay man whose special gift was writing for kids. A popular writing prompt: Travel through the looking glass and describe the fantasy world that you see. I believe this sort of thing ran through dePaola's head when he invented his most-famous spot, his imagined version of Calabria. A friendly witch delivers potions; she'll cure your headache, remove your warts, help you to fetch a man. She has a calm and appropriate answer to everything. Her assistant, Anthony, is a mess, and it's basically an act of charity to keep him on the payroll. Meanwhile, a rival, Strega Amelia, is a kind of frenemy....like a gentler version of the Elizabeth Perkins character from "Weeds." As a teacher, I loved reading the Strega Nona books to my students, and I realized that the special chant could be paired with the tune to "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star....

Many people say it's good to choose a likable protagonist--when you're writing--and whether or not you agree, you have to concede that Strega Nona is supremely likable. She is a bit like Wonder Woman, in a peasant's dress. No problem, for her, is insurmountable. An inept assistant, a diva-esque cousin, a lovelorn visitor in search of a bachelor-man: These things are "as nothing" to Strega Nona. Not only does the witch set things right, but, also, she does her work with supreme calmness and tact. No one receiving her help has to feel embarrassed about being needy or incompetent. Though Strega Nona may be aware of the incompetence, she has great skill in pretending to look the other way. Not to read too much into a series of picture books.....but it's Strega Nona's warmth, love, and compassion--more than her skill--that help to make her a favorite among readers. When she reveals the secret of her trade--in one of the earlier books--it's not intelligenc...