Can we read? No. 22

Back to regularly scheduled programming

Dec 09, 2020

Hola! Happy December. I hope this missive finds you in some state of wellness, body and/or soul. We need to take better care of ourselves than ever right now. (You are worth it; don’t let that voice in your head or the mirror tell you otherwise.)

ICYMI: I became an affiliate of Bookshop.org. You can read the announcement I wrote about it, including why I made this decision, and the details. And there are some goodies on the front page of my storefront — specific, topical lists I’ve put together for you, kind of like mini newsletters without all my chatter. (Thank you to those of you who reached out with kudos on my making this move — I needed that. Amazon can suck it.)

Okay, let’s get to it.

Bee-bim Bop! by Linda Sue Park, illustrated by Ho Baek Lee (2005)

I have referenced our “desert island” booklist more than once in this newsletter, and though it probably seems like a long one (since I keep bringing it up) it’s actually not, nor does it change all that frequently. The books we love passionately, the books we read so many times we’ve all (even the cat) memorized every word, these are largely unchanging. And that list includes Bee-bim Bop! In this fast-paced, highly rhythmic rhyming tale, the reader bounds along with a little girl and her mother as they shop for and prepare bee-bim bop, a popular Korean dish with many variations, for their family dinner. The little girl’s energy is infectious and the playful sense of urgency here not only carries the story — which, honestly, could have moved at a snail’s pace given the subject matter — but makes it wildly fun to read aloud. “Hurry, Mama, hurry, gotta shop shop shop! Hungry hungry hungry for some BEE-BIM BOP!” Lee’s illustrations fit the narrative to an absolute t, showing us every moment and movement here in this home so clearly full of warmth and love. All the work comes to an end when the multi-generational family (it’s implied that grandma lives here) sits down for lovely togetherness and a meal. The level of obsession this title reached in my house once upon a time (interest seems to begin at 2yo and never abates) was totally unprecedented, and is one of the exceedingly rare books that I have never, not once, tired of reading 2398989 times, maybe because it has brought a smile to my kids’ faces — and mine — every single time.

Something Special by David McPhail (1988)

I love David McPhail. Love him. I will read any book of his, check out any of his titles from the library, buy them sight unseen. His oeuvre is enormous (he has been illustrating children’s books since 1967, writing them since 1971) and various, and he has a special relationship with bears and pigs (he writes about this in his autobiographical picture book, In Flight with David McPhail: A Creative Autobiography, which of course I have read, just for me). I have covered some of his other titles in issues No. 4, No. 13, and Spotlight On: Counting Books. I LOVE HIM.

In Something Special he is at his best: adorable illustrations of a raccoon family, all of whom are talented — “everyone in Sam’s family could do something special” — except Sam. His sister Sarah excels at piano, his sister Flo kills it at baseball, his brother Eugene is an 1980s computer kid. His dad is a great cook, his mom his gifted at carving wooden birds, his Grandma makes knitting look easy, even the dang dog can balance a bone on his nose. Sam tries on his family’s talents — he tries other things too — but eventually he grows despondent at his lack of “something special,” as anyone would. Finally, in a tender moment with his mother in her workshop, Sam discovers to his surprise that he has a knack for painting. McPhail’s incredibly gentle and understanding handling of this sore spot of a topic makes this an especially long-lasting title, in my mind — haven’t we all, at some point, struggled to find our “thing?” When will this not apply? My 6yo loves this book and I think it’s because it touches a deep longing inside all of us for a passion and a purpose, no matter our age.

The Tale of Custard the Dragon by Ogden Nash, illustrated by Lynn Munsinger (1998)

Ogden Nash, the American poet best known for his enormous body of often-hilarious, frivolous verse (“The cow is of the bovine ilk / One end is moo, the other, milk” — that’s the entirety of his poem, “The Cow”) died in 1972, so this posthumous title was created and published without his probably ever knowing children would one day be able to enjoy it. But I am grateful to whomever handles his literary rights for coming up with this idea, because Nash’s prose is perfect for children and this is a delightful book. “Belinda lived in a little white house, with a little black kitten and a little gray mouse, and a little yellow dog and a little red wagon, and a realio, trulio little pet dragon.” So begins the story of Custard the dragon, who, despite being a fearsome and intimidating creature — you know, a dragon — is a coward. His family (minus Belinda, whose teasing of Custard is light and loving) never lets him forget this part of his nature, until one day they find they need to call on him. “Suddenly, suddenly, they heard a nasty sound, and Mustard growled, and they all looked around, ‘Meowch!’ cried Ink, and ‘Ooh!’ cried Belinda, for there was a pirate, climbing in the winda.” I won’t ruin the end of this LOL tale — you’ll have to track it down and read it for yourself — but suffice it to say that we need as many funny books these days as we can get, and in this instance, I encourage you to get.

James Herriott’s Treasury for Children by James Herriott, illustrated by Ruth Brown and Peter Barrett (1992)

You may or may not recognize James Herriot’s name from his bestselling memoirs for adults, most famously All Creatures Great and Small (surely I am not the only one who knows a title from 1972 — Dad! I know you know what I am talking about!) Herriot was the pen name of a British veterinarian and surgeon who practiced from 1940-1989, becoming an accomplished author along the way by writing about his experiences in books for adults and children. This collection represents his best work for children, in my opinion, pulling together eight stories (all of which can be found as stand-alone titles, but I think are most beautiful side by side). My 6yo, who is bonkers for both art and nature, adores Herriot’s charming stories, each of which offers a delightful glimpse into the life and work, the trials and tribulations of a country vet, which is by turns humorous, unusual, fascinating, and even sad. Brown and Barrett’s illustrations bring the Yorkshire countryside and real animal experience to life, where it is easy to see both the close relationships of the farmers to their animals and to one another. I don’t know about you but mid-century English farm and veterinary life is a far cry from the experience of my children, so I love giving them a glimpse into another time and place and way. It’s a lovely journey.

Out of the Box: 25 Cardboard Engineering Projects for Makers by Jemma Westing (2017)

This one’s for any of you already/about to be a) inundated with cardboard boxes arriving in the mail and b) home for several weeks straight, possibly stuck inside due to weather, with children. (Oh wait, we’ve all been home for 2312398 days now! I have found cardboard helps. I am a big fan of handing my children empty boxes and then leaving the room. It’s very effective.) The projects in this book range from easy-peasy (just a few weeks ago I made a winsome little owl out of an empty toilet paper roll during a meeting, camera on because I am honest and I can barely endure Zoom anymore and he really was an irresistible chap) to so complex that when I first saw it, I actually threw my head back laughing (a lion mask with a mane crafted from approximately 200 thin strips of cardboard; I would be sucked into box-cutting until my hand cramped and then my children would destroy it in less than five minutes). But from the good to the ridiculous, there is fun to be had here. (And Lord knows I’m not going back to face-to-face meetings anytime soon. Maybe I’ll make a whole zoo.)

Ah people, I see you. It really is March 272nd. (It is, I did the math.) It’s also 1/3 through December, that wondrous and also kind of awful? period between Thanksgiving and New Year’s (do not ask me about homeschooling or work or state of my house or personal hygiene). I am here too.

So please do take extra good care of yourself right now, even if you don’t feel like it or want to. As my grandma always says: this too shall pass. (She’s 99, so she knows some things.) We’re gonna get through this. We are getting through this.

Just keep going.

Can we read?