Category Archives: Non-fiction

In Search of Robert Lopshire

A few weeks ago I wrote a piece for the New York Times “At Home” section about a craft project called a “Flibber,” which you make from a few sheets of newspaper. The craft was suggested by a Times reader who fondly remembered learning how to make it from an old children’s book called How to Make Flibbers, etc. by Robert Lopshire. You can read the story here.

This is the same Robert Lopshire who wrote and illustrated the 1960 Beginner Books classic Put Me in the Zoo, about a magical polka dotted creature who, for some reason, wants to live in a zoo.

Put Me in the Zoo is a little problematic to read today, mostly because it makes no sense that this talking creature would be actively lobbying zookeepers to let him live in a cage. By the end of the book, the two kids he meets convince him that the CIRCUS is actually the place for him because he’s so good at impressing crowds with his tricks. (We’ll leave out what we now know about Barnum & Bailey.) But these points aside, it’s a charming rhyming book very much in line with other Beginner Books by P.D. Eastman and Dr. Seuss.

Then I realized that Robert Lopshire, who died in 2002, had illustrated a book that I totally loved as a kid: Big Max by Kin Platt (1965), part of the Harper & Row “I Can Read Mystery” series. Big Max was the first mystery I had ever encountered, and I was fascinated by the illustrations: the royal robes of the King of Pooka Pooka; Big Max’s bushy mustache; the palace rooms overflowing with rubies, emeralds and gold; the giant pink cake at the very end.

I was also rapt by the image of Big Max at home; the man lived in a disturbingly grim room with cracked walls and an old crate for furniture. Of course, now I see that Lopshire was having some fun portraying a down-in-the-dumps NYC (note the Empire State Building in the window).

I wanted to learn more about Lopshire, but I found surprisingly little about him, not even in my ol’ reliable reference, Children’s Books and their Creators (ed. Anita Silvey). I did find a nice post in Vintage Kids’ Books My Kid Loves and also the below obituary, which revealed that Lopshire was a creative art director for Beginner Books when it first launched. And that he was a Navy Coast Guard veteran of WW2.

Though most of his books are long out of print, I was able to find copies of a few through my library. His Flibber book must have been a hit because he also published a followup, How to Make Snop Snappers and Other Fine Things. Both these books are fantastic. Every project requires only simple household materials, and the illustrated instructions are conveyed in the simplest and most kid-friendly way.

And the delightful names he gives his projects! You can make a Clompy Clown, a Link Link Chain, a Two-horned Noser, and even a Creepy Willy. (That last one sounds alarming but is basically a bent strip of paper that “creeps” when you blow it across the floor.)

Still, I would daresay that Lopshire’s magnum opus is his A Beginner’s Guide to Building and Flying Model Airplanes (1967). Ostensibly for children, it’s an exhaustive and authoritative 128-page book that guides you through everything from soldering metals to the ins and outs of different woods to troubleshooting battery-powered engines. This book was obviously written with a true passion for model planes and also for sharing knowledge.

I also stumbled onto a cool little piece of the Lopshire puzzle. In this 1974 New York Times story about a world championship for model airplane enthusiasts (“World’s Top‐Flight Modelists Vie at Lakehurst”) he’s identified as “a children’s writer who is the spokesman for the Academy of Model Aeronautics.”

Used copies of Lopshire’s model airplanes book start at about $100 on Amazon. I loved reading the comments from readers (who seem to be primarily older men, as you’d expect) who remember this book with so much affection.

I keep thinking that Lopshire must have been an amazing dad who not only had appreciation for funny picture books but relished breaking out the tool kit and making things with his kids.

Highly Recommended (and not just for the kids): How to be a Good Creature

Who is this extraordinary book for, exactly? It’s hard to say.

Sy Montgomery is a renowned nature writer who’s authored more than ten adult nonfiction books, including The Soul of an Octopus, which was a finalist for the National Book Award in 2015. Over her impressive career she’s swum with piranhas and electric eels in the Amazon, searched for tree kangaroos in New Guinea, and experienced near-death experiences studying gorillas in Zaire. Montgomery is also the author of 16 books for kids, including a fantastic biography of Temple Grandin aimed at middle graders.

Her latest, How to be a Good Creature: A Memoir in Thirteen Animals is one of the rare non-fiction books that you could arguably call middle grade, YA or adult.  The advance copy I was sent came to me via from The Houghton Mifflin young readers PR team. And the very sweet cover art by Rebecca Green and large-point type didn’t exactly fight the impression that this was a book intended for 10 and 12 year-olds. It’s a memoir organized by animal: Thirteen chapters covering thirteen animals (from dogs and pigs to tree kangaroos), each offering insight into the creatures and also Sy’s growth as an individual.

But as I read it, I started to wonder.

There was a lot of dark stuff in there about the author’s depression, career crises and parental discord. There was even one stomach-turning incident involving the author’s mother and a virginity check.* But mostly, the book was about the wonder of these incredible animals. As I plowed through the book I kept thinking to myself that I wanted to share these fascinating stories with my own kids.

Throughout the book Montgomery befriends the unlikeliest of creatures, including a tarantula in French Guiana and an octopus at the New England Aquarium (I know the word “befriend” sounds ridiculous, but it happens). And her passion for her calling is totally inspiring — at age 26, she’s sleeping in a tent in South Australia wilderness, mapping the burrows of wombats, digging through emu droppings and having the time of her life. For a young person dreaming about what they will be when they grow up, it may be totally eye opening.

So, who is this book for, really? As it turns out, it’s officially an adult non-fiction book. But  I would hand it to any teenager with an appreciation for nature, animals or gorgeously written confessional personal essays.

*NB: For most 8-12 year-olds, there’s probably too much meditative midlife-crises stuff to keep them interested all the way through. But the chapters on the pig (“Christopher Hogwood,” chapter 3), the tarantula (“Clarabelle,” chapter 4), and the octopus (“Octavia,” chapter 9)  will be totally captivating.