Liars and Saints

 St. Patrick drove the snakes out of Ireland. Once, in his life, he was aided by baying hounds; the sound of the hounds ensured that a particular ship captain would reverse his course and find room for Patrick's safe passage on the sea. Finally, for six years, Patrick served as a shepherd. My own family had an "animal weekend" -- my daughter hopped like a frog to commemorate one of the plagues that waged war with Pharoah. We saw impressive works of taxidermy at New Jersey's Great Swamp -- my son wondered aloud if these were living creatures. And, for a full hour, one of us became a talking unicorn. St. Patrick's Day is the start of spring, additionally -- and, on Sunday, I (at long last) saw a crocus. In my former, childless life, I didn't see the change in seasons as a major event...but anyone with childcare duties knows that the return of warm weather is a gift. Thank God.

 First: A classic Tomie de Paola book is sensationally beautiful. The use of color is not restrained. The characters are well-defined; the number of lines seems to be exactly correct. There is a sense of authority and pleasure. Second: De Paola does some of his best work when he uses the legend format. In a legend, some kind of biological or meteorological phenomenon is linked with a story. We have arachnids because Arachne was an insensitive weaver. We have winter because Hades interfered with Demeter and Persephone. De Paola explains the existence of poinsettias through the tale of a little girl, Lucida, who needs a present for the Jesus doll in a local parade. She can't offer a blanket, because her mom is sick and wool gets tangled too easily. Lucida is told that any gift is wonderful if it comes from her heart; she presents weeds, because that's what she can manage. Because of Lucida's sincerity, the weeds become star-tipped; they become poinsettias. As a student of S...

 I think maybe Tomie de Paola's best book is "Bill and Pete." It's a book that doesn't preach; it's just about the fun of storytelling. An Egyptian crocodile needs "a toothbrush." His mother takes him to the pharmacy. We're led to think we're reading about ourselves; we have moms, too, and pharmacies! But books provide *doors* as well as *windows* .... sometimes, books lead us outside ourselves. And so the "toothbrush" the hero acquires is a small bird, with a skillful beak. The crocodile, William Everett, loves his new pal, but he struggles at school. How can he write his name, "William Everett" --? The bird has an answer. The way to spell "William Everett" is "B-I-L-L." In the last story, our heroes do battle with a bad guy ("Bad Guy") who wants to turn Bill into a suitcase. Lock-picking and ambush techniques are employed. It's clear De Paola is just enjoying himself; he adds gray curls ...