Is Lane Smith in a Bad Mood?

I'm back from summer vacation. I didn't physically go any where, but it was nice to take a mental break.

But now that I'm back it is time to start talking about children's literature again.

And I'm going to start with Lane Smith.

He seems grumpy.

I flipped through Big Plans (by Bob Shea) with Smith's illustrations at the library this summer. It features an Opie-looking kid whose plans to get his own way morph into a fiendish plot to take over the United States. The book is funny, I suppose, but was just a passing read.

But yesterday I checked out Smith's latest - It's A Book. And that's when I began to worry about Smith. He's always been edgy, but edgy in a way that makes me laugh

(insert The Stinky Cheese Man here). I suppose this book is edgy, but instead, it seems peeved - or perhaps pissed is the correct term.

Yes, this book is tongue and cheek. Yes, there is a part of me that cheers for the book loving monkey and the jeering mouse who are fed up with the technology-dependant jackass.... but.... I just think this one seems bitter.

So, in my concern over Smith, I visited his website.

The good news is that he seems just fine! And after reading his curious pages, I no longer feel concerned. I think I know exactly what he means.

The Nature of Horror and Kid's Lit

Horror is a tricky genre... As a child, I didn't particularly appreciate horror. The Creature Double Feature on Channel 38, featuring those awesome B movies of the 50's and 60's - from Godzilla to a space movie where the astronauts, stranded on a hostile planet, eat mushrooms that in turn transform the unsuspecting cast into giant people-eating mushrooms, perpetually gave me nightmares.

But many kids do appreciate horror - the vicariously felt fear, the curiosity appeased, the adrenaline rush. My sister loved those movies that I couldn't stomach. And lots of kids turn to horror fiction.

I've been reassessing the genre myself lately - trying out a few different titles. I finished Rick Yancey's Monstrumologist, which reads like a strange combination of Mary Shelley and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. The book is the first episode from the young protagonist's journal of his life as an apprentice to a monster scientist. The narration is well constructed, clever, funny at some moments, and certainly horrific as we follow Will's escapades in hunting down a "pod" of man-eating Anthropophagi. The book left me queasy....

I've also been listening to Anthony Horowitz's Gatekeeper series (Raven's Gate is the first book). This is probably more of a thriller than horror, though the distinction is hard to clarify. Matt, as orphan like Will, is being held captive by a coven of witches who hope to sacrifice him. There's plenty of murder and mayhem here too. And this one also left me uncomfortable... though not as much as Yancy did.

So what draws one person, and not another, to horror. And how much violence is too much for young readers? And why did I feel compelled to finish both of these books without particularly liking either? I've got to keep thinking about this one.

I Think It's Boccali's Pizzaria

While we lived in California (the second time for me from 1998-2003ish), every December, we would pile our pack of toddlers into the car and drive away from the coast up into the hills beyond Ventura to Ojai. The two lane road would take us away from the arid, drier areas into the lusher, pine forested region. The view was beautiful - the ocean could just be seen in the distance through the backwindow, while ahead the peaks and valleys beckoned.

The end of our journey was the Boccali tree farm, where we would cut down a little Charlie-Brown-Christmas style tree (the choosing and cutting of which were ordeals on their own). By the end of the afternoon, the kids would be exhausted, and sticky with sap and they, like our car, would smell of pine.

As we wound our way back down the hill, as the sun was setting, we would stop at Boccali's pizzaria, which was just west of the tree farm and owned by the same family. The pizza was delicious along with a pitcher of rootbeer, eaten outside on the patio, where we were a little cold, but the warmth of dinner would keep us cozy.

I think Marla Frazee must have been to Boccali's too. Her illustrations in Liz Garton Scanlon's All the World (which just won a Caldecott honor, thank you very much) transported me back to Calfornia, despite the 20 degree weather here in Joliet. Her images, of family and friends, smell of pine and good pizza and warm, sticky toddler hugs to me.

Not What I Expected...

I've read Eoin Colfer's Artemis Fowl books. Like Rick Riordan and Suzanne Collins, Colfer can write quick-paced action and snappy-dialogue. His AF books are fun, though a little dark. They feature a highly intelligent kid who interacts with fairies and trolls and other fantastical creatures. When I checked out the Listening Library version of his Half-Moon Investigations, I expected more of the same. It wasn't just that the CD case cover image suggested another hip take on classic fantasy, but the title itself made me assume this one was a werewolf story, or perhaps yet another take on vampiric teens.

I was wrong, I was wrong. Colfer uses the same hard-boiled detective tone that is the hallmark of his AF books, but this time, it is coming from the first-person perspective of Fletcher Moon, a junior high private investigator in his Irish hometown. For the first few chapters, I waited anxiously for the supernatural to sneak in, but once I realized that this was a cut and dry mystery, I began to really enjoy the narrator's gritty take on principals and bullies and girls. The plot falls apart a little in the end, but Fletcher and the Sharkeys (a local family known for being on the wrong side of the law) are so well-developed that I didn't mind. The recording features Sean Patrick Reilly's Irish brogue, which made the story even more enjoyable.

On a side note, I'm curious about both the webcomic and the BBC live-action version of this one. The actor playing Red Sharkey (the taller of the two boys) is a dead-ringer for my brother-in-law Brian....

Greek Life (or an over use of parenthese)

Okay fantasy fans - forget Potter and Twilight. The big series now is Rick Riordan's Percy Jackson books. Riordan's landed on that perfect formula, beloved of Disney and Warner Brothers alike. His books feature a cheeky protagonist (able to make puns while running for his life) who is the child of separated parents (for those tear-jerker scenes), plenty of fantastical events (a cornacopia of special effects - perfect for today's movie preferences), a rocket-paced plot, and a thinly veiled moral message about the importance of family. It's no wonder Chris Columbus (did his parents really name him that?) is directing the movie version of the first book, The Lightening Thief (see the trailer here: http://www.imdb.com/title/tt0814255/ ).

Don't get me wrong - the books are a fun, fast read and the integration of Greek mythology into modern life is entertaining. But I'll take a fantasy with rich, complex characters and difficult questions of right and wrong (think Llyod Alexander, Madeline L'Engle, or J.R.R. Tolkein) over fantasy fluff any day.

A Gaiman Conundrum

Sigh...


It is to no avail.


I can't find a copy of the book I want.


Sigh....


Here's my conundrum:




I've read Neil Gaiman's Newbery winner, The Graveyard Book, and enjoyed it immensely (as did Aitana, age 13, and Paolo, age 9, and if these two both approve, it has to be a winner in my eyes). I won't gush more about this title, since there are plenty of professional critics who do so much more eloquently that I could.




But the version we've all read is the one illustrated by Dave McKean. This is the HarperCollins version with the optical illustion image on the cover. At first glance, one sees a strange, angel-wing tombstone, but on closer examination we see the silloutte of a boy. It's a wonderful cover (which I like more and more each time I look at it).




Dave McKean's work is wonderful too, from his blending of digital and paint, to his surrealistic and warped images, to the dark strain that runs through all his work. He and Gaiman are an impressive team, and I find it hard to think about Gaiman without thinking about McKean's images too. I'm not sure I like McKean's work - his images leave me a little queasy - but I am a fan, nonetheless.




His illustrations in The Graveyard Book. They are smokey, and ethereal, and well-paired with the text, especially the opening image of the man Jack's wicked blade (I get a shiver just writing that).



But the images are less appealing as the book moves on, and the three heads and the pizza at the end are an utter disappointment (sorry for the spoiler).



So what's the conundrum?


There is another.

The U.K. version of the title features illustrations by Chris Riddell, whose light-handed line seems the perfect pairing for this title. Just look at the cover! Silas' arched eyebrow, the muddled-mix of headstones in the background, and the clever look on Bod's face.




Why can't I get a copy of this version? The only place I've been able to find it is on amazon.uk.com.


Oh and those tantalizing pics to be found on the web, like this...



















and this...


Sigh...

Diddled

"Hey Diddle Diddle" is not my favorite nursery rhyme. It doesn't even make my top ten list. It can't hold a candle (even a Jack-jumping-over-the-candlestick candle) to "The Three Little Kittens" or "Hickory Dickory Dock" or the best of the best - "Pop Goes the Weasel".

Really... "Hey Diddle Diddle" just can't compare. It's verse is more confusing than the usual nursery nonsense, and the rhythm doesn't quite work (I find myself trying to make laughed a two syllable word to follow the pattern of the preceding long line), and the ending is a let down. Why, oh why, does the dish run away with the spoon?

That is the question that Mimi Grey answers in The Adventures of Dish and Spoon - but this title falls flat for me in comparison to her Traction Man books (which are too funny to miss).

And even David Wiesner's (my hero!) tribute in The Three Pigs isn't enough to save this rhyme for me.

But Rachel Vail has succeed in redeeming the "Diddle". In Over the Moon which features clean-lined, hep-cat illustrations by Scott Nash, we are seated in a theater, observing a dress rehearsal of a soon-to-open production. Cat (in his too cool yellow glasses and black turtleneck - can you dig it?) and Dog are ready to perform, but Cow is having some problems with the stage directions, to the frustration of the beret-wearing monkey director . The snappy, dialogue - all in squared off speech bubbles - is funny for adult and kid readers alike:

Cow (shaking the director's paw): Mr. Diddle Diddle. I'm a great fan
of your work.

Monkey (surprised): Are you? Well... Call me Hi.

Cow: Call me Cow.

Monkey: Thanks. So anyway, small point, but - the Cow jumped OVER the
moon.

Cow: Uh-huh. And boy am I sore.

Monkey: No! You jumped under! That was the cow jumping UNDER
the moon. See on the instant replay?

I'm sure you can see where this is going - but it is a lot of fun trying to get there with this cast.