Children’s literature

Gilgamesh The Hero by Geraldine McCaugheran

Given my interest in mythology and storytelling you would think I would have read one of the oldest known stories in the world and one of the foundational myths of Western Civilization. But while I was aware of the epic of Gilgamesh I had not read the poem or any prose versions of the story. Until I stumbled on Gilgamesh the Hero, a version aimed at younger readers, at a library sale.  And I am so glad I did – besides getting a great book for a buck – because this was a great read no matter what your age.

Here is Kirkus:

McCaughrean turns in a robust, exciting rendition of the world’s oldest written epic. After many astounding feats, proud, powerful king Gilgamesh sees his beloved sidekick Enkidu die, and becomes terrified of doing the same. Abandoning self-respect, he searches the world for the secret of immortality, crosses the Waters of Death to hear the tale of undying Utnapisthim (better knows as Noah), and at last returns home, to make wiser bids for immortality by telling his tale, and raising children. Thanks to the former, as McCaughrean points out, he’s better known today than Ishtar, Enlil, or any of the other “immortal” gods he fought and worshiped. Enhanced by Parkins’s expressionistic tableaus of gnarled, dramatically posed figures, she relates his adventures with gusto-”Gilgamesh calmly strung his bow. ‘Don’t launch the funeral barge yet. What can go wrong with the two of us side by side?’ ‘Do you really want me to tell you?’ said Enkidu”-while vividly capturing his pride, soul-deep anguish, and the personal cost of his hard-won wisdom. The most riveting retelling yet of this ancient, ageless tale.

This is a perfect example of why I find these young adult illustrated readers a great way to explore myths and the power of story. You get a great story with powerful and evocative language, wonderful illustrations and an accessible introduction to a timeless tale. What’s not to like? Keep Reading

Alice In Wonderland by Lewis Carroll, Lisbeth Zwerger (illustrator)

Our Lisbeth Zwerger appreciation tour continues, this time with a literary classic Alice in Wonderland.  And we can say at least one positive thing about Zwerger’s illustrations: they motivated me to read the book again. I don’t believe I had read Alice since high school and it was an interesting experience reading it again as an adult and in this format.

Publishers Weekly, as usual, offers a nice overview:

Zwerger’s (The Wizard of Oz) captivating cover image of the Mad Tea-Party for this edition of Carroll’s 1865 tale conveys the psychological tension of the interior artwork: Alice, at the head of an elongated table with a pristine white linen cloth, stares at the pocket watch that the March Hare is about to lower into his cup of tea. The Hare, bug-eyed, gazes out at readers while the Mad Hatter to his right, wearing a hat box, fixates on a black upturned chapeau (in lieu of a place setting), and the Dormouse between them sleeps. Across the table, an empty red mug is placed in front of a vacant green chair, and a teacup and saucer trimmed in red seems to be set for the reader. The painting conveys the way in which Zwerger brilliantly manages both to invite readers into the story and to keep them at a distance. From the heroine’s first appearance, as she falls down a well while chasing the White Rabbit, with a glimpse of orderly bookshelves at the upper left corner, Zwerger demonstrates the many layers to Alice’s journey: a cutaway view reveals that the bulk of the other “”shelves”" are the result of rats and insects tunneling underground. The supporting cast conveys the artist’s nearly sardonic perspective. The contrary caterpillar, with six of its eight arms crossed, would be at home in New York’s East Village: instead of a hookah it smokes a cigarette and sips red wine, yet–unlike Sir John Tenniel‘s sedated counterpart–this caterpillar is lucid, defiantly staring out at an Alice (and readers) absent from the scene. Zwerger’s penetrating interpretation reinvents Carroll’s situations and characters and demands a rereading of the text.

Two sentences worth noting:

  • “The painting conveys the way in which Zwerger brilliantly manages both to invite readers into the story and to keep them at a distance.”
  • “Zwerger’s penetrating interpretation reinvents Carroll’s situations and characters and demands a rereading of the text.”
Obviously, I found both of these to be true. Captivated by the illustrations I was pulled into the story again.  The illustrations are both wonderful accents to the story but also offer though provoking art along the way; they are neither intrusive nor distracting but they do help the reader to think anew about the story and the characters.

Of course, there is always the question of what does it all mean?

The Magician’s Elephant by Kate DiCamillo

I picked up The Magician’s Elephant by Kate DiCamillo on my Kindle tempted by the then $.99 price tag. This weekend I was traveling and needed something light and short to read and decided this was a perfect fit.

And it turned out to be a sweet, dream-like fairy tale; and at the same time an inspirational story about the power of dreams and the determination to follow them.

Here is the publisher’s teaser:

When a fortuneteller’s tent appears in the market square of the city of Baltese, orphan Peter Augustus Duchene knows the questions that he needs to ask: Does his sister still live? And if so, how can he find her?

The fortuneteller’s mysterious answer (An elephant! An elephant will lead him there!) sets off a chain of events so remarkable, so impossible, that Peter can hardly dare to believe it.

But it is-all of it-true.

It is worth noting that writing a fairy tale is harder than it might sound.  It is not easy to write short elegant, dream-like fairy tales that don’t come off too saccharine or derivative, etc. The best evidence that DiCamillo had succeeded was that I kept reading until I had finished the story without thinking about it; she drops you into this world and you are soon caught up in it and suspend your disbelief as the saying goes. The story feels like a real fairy tale if that makes sense. Keep Reading

Are All the Giants Dead? by Mary Norton

A story about stories and fairy tales by a famous author with great illustrations (by Brian Froud)? Yes, please. Are All the Giants Dead? by Mary Norton (famous for Bed-Knob and Broomstick and The Borrowers) was originally published in the UK in 1975 but brought to the US in 1997.  I picked up a paperback version at a local library sale for like a dollar. I think the kids calls this “winning.”

Familiar with Norton’s other books but not this volume, I was intrigued from the start:

One night, when he should be safe in bed, young James is whisked away by his friend Mildred to the fairy tale land of Happily Ever After. There Cinderella and Sleeping Beauty are middle-aged gossips; Bell’s husband, the Beast, spends his days hunting dragon and unicorn; And Jack-the-Giant-Killer and Jack-of-the-beanstalk while away their retirement telling yarns about slaying the last of the giants.

But the two Jack’s aren’t quite telling the truth: one fierce man-eating giant still lives. And to spare his friend Princess Dulcibel from have to marry an enchanted toad, James must steal something from the dreaded giant’s bone-strewn lair, a place where even the veteran giant-killers fear to tread.

Sucked in by this back of the book blurb, I decided to read it right away not really knowing what to expect.  It turned out to be a clever, if simple, story about courage and belief; and about fairy and folk tales. In classic fairy tale form James faces his fears and saves the princess – just not in exactly the way he might have imagined.

Keep Reading

The Merry Pranks of Till Eulenspiegel by Heinz Janisch , Lisbeth Zwerger (Illustrator) , Anthea Bell (Translator)

The Lisbeth Zwerger tour continues here at CM. Today it is Till Eulenspiegel’s Merry Pranks by Heinz Janisch.  Illustrated by Lisbeth Zwerger and translated by Anthea Bell.

Hans Christian Andersen Medalist Lisbeth Zwerger cunningly illustrates 11 folktales about Till Eulenspiegel, the famous sixteenth-century German folk hero, popular in legend as a shrewd trickster. In this handsome reissue, she chronicles Till’s pranks from his triple dunking at his baptism, to his funeral, at which he leaves a last trick for his mourners. Zwerger’s celebrated wit and insouciant style are the perfect complements to the antics of this notorious merrymaker.

I will be honest: I bought this one mostly for the art. I have a growing collection of folk tales and story books for children but I am not sure my kids would enjoy this one.  It is an interesting reference point for German folklore but it is mostly the art of Zwerger that drew me to the book.

And the art is playful, colorful and evocative.  As PW says, “Both art and text are distinctly quaint and European.”  This is another book that I would be tempted to cut up in order to use the illustrations as prints. But I am too much of a book person to perform something so sacrilegious.

The stories are simple and silly – so maybe they are exactly the sort of thing children would love. Keep Reading