This was one of those weekends where my head was slow from stress and general exhaustion. Those days always make me head for the children's book shelf - in my own apartment and at the bookstore.
I re-read Wind in the Willows by Kenneth Graham. I just love that story and it makes me cry and laugh out loud. It's a beautiful story of friendship - the four animals could not be more different. But they stand true to each other and believe in each other, despite their differences. The kindness with which they treat one another makes me cry it's so beautiful - when Mole is distressed over a visit his old home, Rat is efficient and good natured and gently makes a visit seem the right thing to do. Mole does not realize that he is being guided, he only knows that his mind settles and his heart is warm.
When Rat swoons over the lure of the open road after meeting the Seafarer, Mole returns the favor and does all the right little things that only a generous friend could understand. He is silent, yet sufficiently distracting to keep Rat grounded. He quietly tells a story of the life they have, and the beauty of the River and the seasons. He puts a piece of paper on the table and says, "Rat, you have not written poetry in a while." And departs the room. Just what Rat needs to come back to himself and his place.
I suspect I am like Toad - fun and silly and not at all in control of his life. But his friends enjoy him nonetheless and love him for what is beneath the self centeredness and the ego. In the end, with the help of his friends, Toad becomes a new kind of animal - more conservative, surely - but a good friend and dependable neighbor. Perhaps there is hope for me yet?!
My edition has lovely illustrations, although isn't it funny that the pictures do not match the story - they are just randomly inserted, so sometimes you come to an illustration of something that happened chapters ago, and sometimes it's part of the story you have not read yet. Who thought of that, I wonder.
Speaking of illustrations, I pored over three of Paul Zelinsky's illustrated stories - Rapunzel, Hansel & Gretel and Rumpelstiltskin. I can't say enough about his art and illustrated story telling. These books are achingly beautiful. The faces of the characters are so appealing, and the costumes and settings tell the story so well . You almost don't need the words. Such works of pure art, some will be gifted to the neicelets later this summer as a "just because" package.
I also sent a copy of Rumpelstiltskin to my nephew Charlie who just turned three and is incredibly cool as are all my nephsters and neicelets. But I must confess that this story of Hansel & Gretel is not one I'd share with the younger kids - it's pretty scary even though Hansel and Gretel are both pretty resourceful. But the idea that your own father would take you out to the wood and abandon you?! The mother in this story is the devil behind the idea, although I remember a step-mother in the books of my childhood. Conveniently, the author gets her out of the picture. The kids have their familiar adventure with the witch in the house made of candy, push her in the fire, take some of her treasure and head home. The father is very glad to see them, he's been grief stricken these past months. There is one line, "Their mother had died." So that - plus the plundered treasure - conveniently allowed the three of them to live happily ever after. This is where Zelinsky's illustrations are their best. On the last page, illustrating their homecoming, Gretel, who is very young, is staring at the father with adoration and love. The father's face is full of wonder and almost embarrassed joy at his good fortune to see them again. Hansel, a bit older and wiser than his sister, is skeptical. His smile is not bright and his body language suggests that the father has some explaining to do - and some making up to do. Which is only fair. Go Hansel!
I also leafed through a volume of Andersen's Fairy Tales - attributed to Hans Christian Andersen. I gotta tell you, just like with the Brothers Grimm, these tales are not for small children or anyone prone to nightmares. There are some beautiful stories in my volume, which is published as part of the old Junior Library. The Emperor Has No Clothes, The Little Match Girl and The Swineherd all still resonate, even if the original language is a bit thicker and more preachy than our versions of today. One story about The Magic Shoes is quite long and very dark. And not at all inspiring. I thought to myself, "Someone was in a sour mood when he wrote this one!"
Lastly, I read Dear Mr Henshaw by Beverly Cleary. Oh it's really, really good! She's obviously a very very talented writer, but this is one of her best. I nearly wept when I read Leigh's ("a boy," as he says when introducing himself) telling of his story of loneliness and confusion over his parents divorce and moving to a new sixth grade class in a new school. Her ability to speak to both adults and children is pretty amazing. Although of course, I don't know if Leigh's voice is appealing to sixth graders, since I am not one, but I feel it has authenticity. His pain was real. We all just want to have a friend. I read books like this one and am intimidated all over again. How in the world does someone write so well?
I will send this to my friend Lucy who is in second grade and a great reader. She can tell me if it's authentic ;)
