Bird and Little Bird

Library Monday: Olivia.

Olivia, by Ian Falconer, is perhaps one of our oldest, most reliable favorites among picture books.  We have had this one long enough that our version of it is a board book (meaning that it must have originally come on the scene during the very early days of "literacy" when kids are more interested in eating their books than reading them).  Mariam loved this book at two and she loves it just as much now that she is five and learning to read on her own.  There are a number of Olivia sequels, and we have enjoyed all of those as well, but the original Olivia title is certainly the one that gets the most attention around here.

For those of you who aren't familiar with the Olivia series, this first book is our introduction to Olivia the pig, a plucky little heroine of great spirit and no small amount of determination.  We also meet Olivia's family, including her oft harassed cat Edwin and little brother Ian.  I love the writing style in this book, particularly the way that the written story interacts with the story being told by the pictures.  However, my favorite part of this book is the way that Falconer pays homage to famous artists by including their work as a part of the story that he is telling.  It's great fun to come across familiar paintings and buildings (Jackson Pollack, The Empire State Building) in a book like this and it is also a perfect way to introduce some of these things and make connections for early experiences in museums or checking out architecture.  If you're into that sort of thing.  Which we kind of are.

Apparently there are many, many extensions of the Olivia phenomenon outside of just the literary.  I hear that there is an Olivia t.v. show, an Olivia board game and I myself have seen stacks of Olivia stationery at the local paper shop.  These things are all well and good, I suppose.  But I'd recommend visiting the original source if you want to experience the fun and humor of Olivia; just pick up the book and read.

Library Monday: One Small Place in a Tree.

In keeping with the fall friendly theme of trees, this week's Library Monday title is One Small Place in a Tree by Barbara Brenner (illustrated by Tom Leonard). Not so much a classic storybook as it is a scientific journey, One Small Place in a Tree uses colorful illustrations and flowing narrative to demonstrate the life cycle of a single tree in a forest ecosystem.  Beginning with an oak tree in a forest full of similar oak trees, the story delves into the way that a hole is formed in the tree and then becomes an important resource for a community of small animals in a patch of the forest, even after the tree is no longer alive. 

This book is a delight for any number of reasons, but I especially love the way that it makes the process of understanding a natural life cycle accessible to even young children.  The clear text and detailed illustrations do an excellent job of demonstrating an important scientfic idea while also telling an interesting story that keeps young readers engaged.  Mariam enjoys having this book read to her, but she also enjoys spending time looking through the pictures on her own and noticing the changes in the tree from page to page.  

One Small Place in a Tree would be a great read at any time of the year, but it is especially good for the current shift of the seasons happening in our part of the world.  We are watching fall quickly turn to (very cold!) winter and books like this one are a perfect way to better understand the connections between these changes in our own backyard and the bigger cycles of life. 

Library Monday: A Tree is Nice.

We just recently came upon this book; A Tree is Nice, by Janice May Udry with illustrations by Marc Simont.  Such a find!  This book is beautifully done in every way.  The pictures are simple but expressive and the prose reads almost like an extended haiku (well, except for the counting syllables business, that is).  The tone of the book overall is a bit understated (many of us might say that a tree is more than just "nice") but this is a part of its charm.  This book is a delightfully pleasant read and a lovely reminder of all the little ways that we as people interact with the trees around us.  This book has been an especially timely read for our family since this is Mariam's first fall living in a place with deciduous trees.  A leaf pile? This is an idea that my girl certainly recognizes as genius, but it is also something new. 

This book is not so much about story or plot, but it has a brightness to it that makes it a joy to read just the same and which gives it a meaning beyond the short descriptive passages on each page.  It could also be a wonderful book for connecting readers of different ages.  A very young child might just enjoy listening and looking at the pictures, an older child can enjoy these things as well, but can also work on making connections between the book and their own experiences of trees and how people live with trees.  I love the idea of reading this book with elementary aged children (maybe from kinder up through third grade or so) and then having them write one of their own books about why trees are nice, using a simple bookmaking activity (like this one).  

Every so often a book comes along that is so very sweet and hopeful and shares something of the world in such a generous and thoughtful way, that I just feel amazingly fortunate to have a little person to read it to.  If she enjoys it as much as I do- added bonus.  This is one of those books.  A tree is nice, yes.  But so is this book. 

Library Monday: Whitefoot

Today's Library Monday title is a unique and beautiful book; Whitefoot: A Story from the Center of the World by Wendell Berry with illustrations by Davis Te Selle.  Given to us a year ago or so by some very dear friends, Whitefoot was immediately loved by both Mariam and I (although for different reasons, I suspect), yet I have somehow overlooked it when writing these posts.  This is probably because I have always kept it on the living room bookshelf, nestled among my own favorite books, rather than on the shelves in Mariam's own room where I often dig around for Library Monday material.  As some longtime readers of this blog might have noticed, I am a lover of all things Wendell Berry and would easily cite him as my favorite poet, as well as this poem of his as one of my absolute favorite pieces of writing ever.  He is an amazing poet, writer and from what I can tell from the one time I saw him speak in person, an exceptional human being.  So, it follows that his foray into writing for a younger audience would be just as beautiful and brilliant as everything else that he does...

Whitefoot is the story of a small mouse, set adrift on a log during a flood which follows a rainstorm in the little corner of the world that she calls home.  Before the flood, Whitefoot had been nicely settled into the short life provided to her by nature.  Her nest had been made, her routine of daily survival established, her world explored thoroughly enough to feel comfortable.  The coming of the flood sets Whitefoot off on an adventure that she didn't really want, but that she will approach with the same unflappable acceptance that any wild animal would demonstrate in similar circumstances. This story is unique among children's books in that it approaches storytelling from the perspective of an animal, like so many stories do, but without assigning the animal human characteristics or personality.  Whitefoot is a mouse, and she behaves like one.  This fact makes this tale read almost more like narrative science than anything else, and this precision is something which I can see my daughter's inquisitive mind appreciates.

Like all of Berry's work, this tale reads like poetry, but Whitefoot also has just enough story to keep little listeners interested.  Yes, the prose is lyrical and beautifully descriptive and includes probably more than one or two words that small ears might not yet know. But it also has a flowing quality to it and that paired with the simple and expressive illustrations seems to be enough to help young readers appreciate just what is happening.   Nature is the main character in this tale and I believe that there is something about this that makes the story come alive for kids, even if they can't define each individual adjective.  There is also an honesty to this book that is seldom reflected in other stories for children; the life an animal is perhaps short and not entirely easy or comfortable.  But it is the life that they have, and each animal follows it's own set of instincts and lives that life accordingly.

I don't know how widely available this book is, and I suppose that some smaller city libraries may not have copies.  That being said, it is certainly worth a search effort as it is a lovely book that can be enjoyed by children of many ages as well as by the adults who read to them.  I also just discovered (added bonus) that the illustrator lives here in Burlington.  Some people get excited about the possibility of running into famous actors or musicians.  I, apparently, am much more interested in the idea that the person who illustrated the book written by my favorite poet lives in my city.  To each her own, right?

Library Monday: Seven Blind Mice

Today's pick for Library Monday is Seven Blind Mice, by Ed Young.  Based on the centuries old fable of the blind men and the elephant, Seven Blind Mice is a cautionary tale of sorts, teaching the importance of perspective in our ability to solve a problem.

The story details the discovery of a strange and unknown "something" at the local pond and the attempts of a group of brightly colored blind mice to discover it's identity.  As each tiny mouse explores the huge object, he is only able to experience a part of it and this fact directly influences what each mouse decides the mystery thing must be.  It isn't until one mouse explores the entire thing from top to bottom and side to side that it becomes clear that the unknown is actually something quite familiar; an elephant. 

Older children may be able to appreciate the message behind this tale; that seeing the whole of something is vital to being able to understand it.  This message is in fact laid out for them as a parting word at the end of the story.  Smaller children can enjoy this book as well, though.  Through the telling of the exploratory adventure of each individual mouse, Young introduces such basic concepts as color, days of the week and ordinal numbers.  This story turns out to be a great fit for a child Mariam's age (now five and a half) because she is old enough to think a bit about what the story really means, but still finds great fun in the part of the tale that simply focuses on color and number. 

I should mention that this book came into the house very recently after one of Dan's medical school professors recommended it.  He mentioned it as a favorite for his own children, but I suspect that he may also have been hinting at the usefulness of its moral for people of any age, especially those going forward into the land of solving medical mysteries and the like.  Dan ordered the book for Mariam but when it came, said to me "I thought maybe you would want to review it for the blog."  This may officially mark the first time he has ever shown any interest whatsoever in what I do or don't write on my blog, so of course, I had to oblige...

Library Monday: A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever.

A Couple of Boys Have the Best Week Ever by Marla Frazee is a fairly new addition to our home library.  In fact, after bringing it home from the local public library on pretty much every trip since mid-July, I finally just decided to buy our own copy of the book while I was at the bookstore yesterday afternoon. Mariam was very pleased with me when I brought I returned with it.  I do try.

Best Week Ever (we've got to abbreviate this one folks) is the story of two boys, James and Eamon, and their week-long stay with Eamon's grandparents during summer vacation.  Bill and Pam, Eamon's grandparents, are hosting the boys at their beach house while they attend the local nature camp during the days.  Bill and Pam have all sorts of ideas about what they'd like to get the boys out doing and experiencing and, as is the way with children, the boys have ideas of their own.  There isn't a whole lot of overlap.  Adults will appreciate the truth of this slight tension in the story, as well as the fact that in the end, the boys do realize that perhaps the grandparents were on to something with their ideas about how to have a good time.  We must have hope, no?

The artistic style of the book is slightly reminiscent of an old-fashioned comic book and this gives the book a nice visual appeal.  The writing itself has a hilariously understated tone which creates a subtext to the story that kids and grown-ups alike should find humor in.  The entirety of this little tale is great fun to read, but I have particular appreciation for the sweet, surprising ending.  So does Mariam, who often sits with the book open to the final pages, studying the illustrations.

This story feels very true to life, but also original and cleverly executed.  It is an enjoyable read and is well written enough to appeal to children at a variety of ages, probably from four through at least eight or nine.    It is a fairly new book, published just last year, so it may still be sparsely stocked in local libraries.  Worth looking for though. 

Library Monday: Richard Scarry's Favorite Story Book Ever.

Richard Scarry's Favorite Story Book Ever lives up to its title in every way as far the small people that I have known over the years are concerned.  This is especially true of the small person who lives in my house, as Scarry's books generally do an excellent job of combining her two narrative loves; stories about how things work and stories that are completely fantastical and a bit outlandish.  The sillier the better and if anthropomorphized animals are being silly while you get to read about them laying asphalt, all the better.  This book is full of short stories about favorite Scarry characters and the text and illustration flow across the pages freely, giving the impression that each pair of pages are absolutely full of little details that together make up the individual tales.

Part of the appeal of this book for me is the fact that it is both a suitable read aloud and a great browsing book.  I often find that if I leave this one out on a table or chair around the house sometime during the course of the day Mariam will pick it up and spend twenty minutes or so looking through the book and closely examining all that is going on in each of the illustrations.  The pictures are busy (Scarry is, after all, the Busy Town guy), colorful and full of detail; just what encourages children to look carefully and really think about everything that is happening on the pages.  Mariam loves to hear the stories from this book, but she also loves to revisit them through the illustrations on her own time.  The kind of quiet that comes into a house where a child is sitting and intently looking through a book is a special thing folks, and not something that I could easily be convinced to interrupt.

Now, I do have one suggestion: if you intend to read this book as a read aloud, you might want to set a limit on how many stories you'll read in a sitting ahead of time, especially if it's bedtime.  I have the requisite experience to absolutely assure you that treating this book as one long story will have you perched on your child's bed reading until late into the evening, whether or not that is what you had originally intended.

Library Monday: Hondo & Fabian

Library Monday makes its reappearance this week with a sweet favorite of ours, Hondo & Fabian by Peter McCarty.  We first picked this book up when Mariam was about two years old, thinking that the lovely texture of the illustrations (and the fact that they are all pretty much of animals) would appeal to her.  Indeed they did, but even as she has grown older and more capable to listening to longer and more involved stories, this book has remained well loved.  

Hondo & Fabian is not so much a typical narrative tale as it is a peek into a mostly uneventful day in the lives of two pets, Hondo the dog and Fabian the cat.  Hondo goes to the beach, Fabian tries to escape the overzealous love of the family toddler.  There is lazing about. There is eating.  There is more lazing about.  The lack of more intense plot points makes this book a perfect nap or bedtime book, in my opinion.  Hondo & Fabian reads more like a piece of gentle poetry than it does a storybook and it is sometimes just the thing to move a small person away from the excitement of a busy day towards that sleepy feeling. 

The beautiful illustrations, full of muted colors and soft lines, are reason enough to love this book.  They are some of my favorite among our vast collection of children's literature, and almost give the impression of being able to reach into the book and touch the furry, chubby little animals themselves.  

In the even that you do decide to check out Hondo & Fabian, be sure to look for Fabian Escapes as well.  It chronicles the day on which it is Fabian's turn to have an adventure outside of the house while Hondo gets all the toddler love he can stand.  Very sweet and a bit funny too. 

Library Monday: The Scrambled States of America

This book first came into my life about a year ago when a favorite student of mine, started saying "I am not happy at all!" whenever he was out of sorts about something or other.  At the time, I thought it represented great progress- he was recognizing and verbalizing his emotions!  Well, in a way he was, but more exactly he was quoting Kansas from The Scrambled States of America by Laurie Keller. 

You see, Kansas, although perfectly satisfied with Nebraska's company for the most part, decides that middle America just isn't quite exciting enough on the whole and wakes up one morning feeling dissatisfied and looking for a change.  After discussing the matter, Nebraska decides that he could certainly get a break from listening to the Dakotas argue all the time and agrees to help Kansas arrange a fifty states mixer in an effort to meet some new states. 

The resulting shindig, and the surprising interstate friendships that form, is a huge success. By the evening's end, the states decide as a group to switch places with one another, completely reworking the geography of this here country.  The rest of the story shares with us the various misadventures of familiar states in unfamiliar locations.  Midwestern states, sent out to where California used to be, are aghast at the constant low-level seismic activity.  Minnesota heads to the Gulf Coast and is horrified by his sudden and terrible sunburn as well as by Vermont's insistence on the benefits of hugging.  In all, the states find themselves mostly uncomfortable and unhappy in their new locales, and in the end, collectively decide to high-tail it home in hopes of settling back into their old (and now suddenly very appealing) environs.  

This book has been a big favorite around the house this summer and Mariam went through a couple of weeks right after our move when she wanted to read it every day.  Many times.  It's a great jumping off point for discussions about geography, however, and it turned out to the be the perfect thing for helping her to begin wrapping her little mind around just what it meant to move from one coast to (very nearly) the other. 

Oh- and the last pages of the book give an overview of each state, it's motto, capital and population.  Great for kids who find fun in facts.  This is also fascinating if you have just gone from living in a state with 27 million something people to one that has about 500 thousand.  I'm just saying. 

Library Monday: "Slowly, Slowly, Slowly," said the Sloth.

Lately I have been thinking a lot about books that Mariam and I really enjoyed reading when she was younger.  We have a number of good friends expecting babies this fall and winter and I've been trying to build a list of great books for very small children that might make good gifts.  One of my favorites is "Slowly, Slowly, Slowly," said the Sloth by the fabulous Eric Carle.  I don't doubt that many a parent has read The Very Hungry Caterpillar again and again until they can't possibly read it any more, so for those of you who love the illustrations and narrative style of Carle's work and want something different, this book might be just the thing. 

"Slowly, Slowly, Slowly" is about a happy, but well, slothful, sloth who lives in the South American jungle amongst a menagerie of more industrious and exciting animals.  As each animal comes along and questions the sloth about his lack of spunk, he repeatedly ignores them.  Ignores them, that is, until a jaguar comes right out and asks why the sloth is so lazy.  The sloth takes exception to this last question and gives the jaguar an earful about the difference between being tranquil, laid-back and peace loving, and being lazy.  Nope.  Not at all the same.

As with other Carle books, the collage illustrations in this book are bright and beautiful with splashes of color all over the page.  Mariam has always loved looking at the pictures of the unusual animals (for us folks in North America, anyway) and even when she was too little to understand all of the nuanced adjectives used in the story, she loved the cadence of the way that they are written.  We may have graduated to longer picture books and even the occasional chapter-having novel for our read alouds these days, but I'm sure that this book will still remain a favorite for some time to come.