From a 200th-anniversary edition of Clement C. Moore’s Christmas Eve tale to lightheartedly loopy poems for every day of the year, check out some of my suggestions for holiday books to give the kids in your life. Check out the New York Times roundup here.
My obsession with food in children’s books is no secret to anybody who’s read this blog. Here’s a piece I wrote in the November 8, 2020 issue of the NYT Book Review about four books for kids where food plays a central role: MEASURING UP by Lily LaMotte, Illustrated by Ann Xu; A PLACE AT THE TABLE by Saadia Faruqi and Laura Shovan; AMERICAN AS PANEER PIE by Supriya Kelkar; THE SURPRISING POWER OF A GOOD DUMPLING by Wai Chim
I recently viewed three YA novels with Korean-American teens at their center for the NYT Book Review: Frankly in Love by David Yoon, Somewhere Only We Know by Maurene Goo, and Permanent Record by Mary H.K. Choi. This was a dream assignment for me, bringing together my love for YA with my more recent interest in telling the stories of Korean-Americans.
For about a year now, my friend Juliana Sohn and I have been co-hosting an arts and culture podcast for the non-profit organization KoreanAmericanStory.org. On our podcast, called K-Pod, we interview Korean-American artists, writers, actors, chefs and other creative types about their life and work. One of the questions I most love asking guests is what they were like in high school. After all, the teenage years are all about questioning your identity — and when you’re growing up caught between two cultures, the question of who you are and how you fit in can be especially hard to answer.
You can read the full text of the reviews here.
Download our podcast, K-Pod, here!
Last week, during the 100 degree NYC heatwave, I popped over to the library to kill some time. [Side note: who else, when they hear the phrase “killing time” thinks about Tock from Phantom Tollbooth sobbing, “It’s bad enough wasting time without killing it”? ] I came across a gorgeous large-format book by French author-illustrator Benjamin Chaud called Little Bear’s Big House (2018).
In the story, a precocious little bear wanders into a house in the woods. Halfway through, Chaud gives us this showstopper: A cross section of the house so big and so detailed that your eye can slowly wander from room to room. (The book’s dimensions are 9″ x 14″ so it’s truly immersive.)
I posted a pic on Instagram and immediately got tons of comments from other picture book fans reminiscing about other cross-sections in picture books. There’s something completely captivating about these illustrations: They’re the 2D version of playing with dollhouses, simultaneously instilling in the reader a sense of wonder and also a sense of god-like mastery.
To start, there are the Richard Scarry classics. For many kids, these cutaway views of Busytown are the first cross-section pictures they ever see. The labeled illustrations are perfect for an adult reading with a child, making each moment something to talk about. At the same time, Scarry makes sure there’s something funny to laugh about with each vignette, so the pictures are not simply didactic.
The other author that probably comes to mind with these sorts of illustrations is David Macaulay. The How Things Work author is legendary for the clarity of his explanations and the precision of his architectural and mechanical drawings. This is from Castle (1977):
In the UK, the writer-illustrator Stephen Biesty has single-handedly dominated the field of technical cross-sections with his Incredible Cross-Section series for Dorling Kindersley. He’s very influenced by Stephen Macaulay and the 1950s English illustrator Leslie Ashwell Wood.
While Biesty and Macauley’s illustrations explicate hidden mechanisms in the real world, my personal preference has always learned toward the fictional.
For instance, here’s Gyo Fujikawa’s take on the Old Woman Who Lived in a Shoe (featuring the Old Woman whaling each poor kid on their way inside—how amazing is this?!) :
There is also the lesser-known Babar book, Babar and Father Christmas (1940), one of the last written by Jean de Brunhoff. In this one, readers get a glimpse of Father Christmas’s house, including “the doll room, the soldier room, the train room … dwarfs’ dormitories, the lifts and the machine-rooms.”
Are you familiar with The Big Green Book by Robert Graves, illustrated by none other than Maurice Sendak? I have to admit, I was not. It’s about a little boy who discovers a book of magic in the attic and learns all sorts of spells:
And here’s the inside of Pippi Longstocking’s house, as imagined by Dutch illustrator Carl Nicolaas Hollander (1934-1995):
One series I learned about from a commenter on Instagram is the Brambly Hedge series by British author Jill Barklem. (The first in the series, Spring Story, came out in 1980.) The stories follow the adventures of a community of mice who live in the English countryside — the illustrations are very much in the tradition of Beatrix Potter and include some delightful cross-sections of the cozy mouse houses:
Not surprisingly, mice lend themselves well to these sorts of illustrations. When my daughter was little we loved reading Mary and The Mouse, the Mouse and Mary by Beverly Donofrio (2007). The illustrations by Barbara McClintock depict the parallel worlds of humans and mice, with the mice living directly beneath the floorboards of the family’s chic midcentury home:
One of my all-time favorite writers and illustrators is William Pène du Bois, who gave us Twenty-One Balloons and William’s Doll. He wrote a book called The Three Policemen (I wrote about it previously here) which is totally charming but nothing all that special, except for the end pages which are unforgettable. They feature the cross-section of a fantastical ship designed to look like a sea serpent:
Here’s a book I learned about from interior designer Mara Miller, when I interviewed her for a story about designers’ favorite children’s books. It’s called The Fourteen Bears in Summer and Winter by Evelyn Scott (sadly, it’s out of print) and features the stylish homes of bears:
Speaking of bears, I am not a big fan of the Berenstain Bears. But this cross-section of their treehouse is pretty darn fun (note the basement Ping-Pong table):
I am very fond of the illustrations of Japanese author Mitsumasa Anno. (Incidentally, Anno is still alive and is 93 years old!). This is from Anno’s Counting Book (1975):
What else? Do you like gnomes?
There’s also the wordless book Full Moon Soup by Alistair Graham (2007), which is set in a baroque Fawlty Towers-type of hotel. It feels like The Sims!
Sophie Blackall can do no wrong, in my opinion. Hello, Lighthouse (winner of the 2019 Caldecott) has this image of the interior of a lighthouse that feels absolutely perfect in every way, from the sage green interior walls to that tidy bed with single pillow.
And now I will just leave you with this final cross-section, from David Macauley’s Toilet:
What good ones have I missed? Please tell me in the comments here or over on my Instagram @mrslittlebooks
Thanks for reading!
I think I need this book. Written by Robert E. Mahaffay, illustrated By Milli Eaton. Published in 1955 by the West Coast Lumbermen’s Association.
Check out the trousers on that handsaw!!!!
Writing about kids books has been a hobby of mine for a few years now but with this review for the NYT Book Review I feel weirdly legit. Too bad my own children refuse to take my advice (read it here) and read Kate Milford’s epic middle grade, Miyazaki-esque, seafaring adventure fantasy novel.
Double Fudge has no sex scenes and not even a single stuffed bra. But the fifth installation in Judy Blume’s Fudge series has something grownups can appreciate: A realistic view of what it’s like trying to raise three kids in Manhattan on a not-astronomical income.
Blume has never hesitated to spell out the Hatcher family’s precise economic situation. In Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, we learn that the family lives in a two-bedroom, one-bathroom on 25 W. 68th St, where Fudge sleeps in the converted den. Throughout the series, money and real estate are the engines that drive the plots (Fudgie’s antics aside). In Fourth Grade Nothing, Peter’s dad, who works in advertising, is fired from the Juicy-O account after he makes the mistake of inviting his boss for an overnight visit; later, Peter’s dad only allows Fudge to appear in the Toddle Bike commercial because he can’t afford to lose another account. In Superfudge, baby Tootsie is born and the family temporarily decamps to Princeton, NJ, where Peter’s dad, apparently having a mid-career crisis, attempts to write a book; we also learn that Peter’s mom, a dental hygenist, dreams of going back to school for art history. In Fudge-a-Mania, the family must share a cramped summer house with Sheila’s family because neither can afford to rent their own houses.
The Hatcher family is said to live at 25 W. 68th St
Double Fudge was published a full three decades after Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing, and the city Blume portrays has the distinct feeling of a boom-era New York. Peter’s friend’s dad, the formerly struggling artist Frank Fargo, is at a career high, and moves to a big loft in SoHo. Frank’s paintings, Peter realizes, are now too expensive for the Hatchers to afford. And then there’s Fudgie’s new friend, six-year-old Richie Potter. Richie is a child of privilege and a masterful underminer. When Fudge and Peter’s mom tells Richie she’s a dental hygenist, he informs her, “One of my grandpas is a very famous neurosurgeon.” When the mom tells Richie they don’t have a cook, he says, “Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were poor.” Later he tells the family about his own mother: “She’s a designer. You can get clothes with her name on it.” There is also his discussion of their summer house (clearly in the Hamptons). “We have a house at the beach. Do you? … Our house is on the ocean side but we keep our boat at the bay.” We’ve all met a Richie Potter — maybe our kids have even gone to school with one — and we all want to slap him.
In the midst of all this, Blume introduces the characters of Howie Hatcher and his family, whose defiantly bohemian lifestyle is a direct repudiation to the New York City rat race. These Hatchers live in Hawaii, home-school their daughters (the “Natural Beauties”) and distain television. But they are insufferable, moralizing mooches who turn out to be weak and hypocritical.
My kids loved Double Fudge, as they loved every one of the Fudge books. They snickered at Richie Rich, howled at the “Natural Beauties” and practically cheered when the overbearing relatives finally moved on. But by the end of Double Fudge, I must say I felt a little bit sad. Their mom has stopped talking about getting that art history degree and the family is still sharing the one bathroom. (What will happen when Tootsie gets potty trained?)
I can only hope that Judy Blume pulls out another Fudge book in a couple of years. In this one, an elderly neighbor in their building could die and leave the family her classic six, which the Hatchers combine with their apartment. That’s the New York dream, right?
Maybe you’ve never been a “math person.” Maybe you only recently learned that googolplex is not the name of the Google cafeteria. Maybe when you’re out to lunch with friends you sit quietly when the check comes, hoping someone else will calculate how much you owe. But that doesn’t mean your six-year-old isn’t fascinated by numbers.
“If a goldfish bowl were big enough for a million goldfish … it would be large enough to hold a whale.” – How Much is a Million?
At the beginning of kindergarten I bought my son How Much is a Million? by David M. Schwartz, originally published in 1985. The book is considered a classic — you see it now with a 20th Anniversary Edition banner — but it didn’t exist when I was in elementary school. Though this is a book I thought L. would tolerate at best, he was captivated from the first reading. Schwartz manages to put numbers like million, billion and trillion in concrete terms that speak to five, six and seven year-olds perfectly. For instance: A million Continue reading
Browsing in the library the other day my daughter and I came across this:
They also had this:
Sacrilege! In the first one, Laura looks like she’s on the front of a Land’s End catalog; on the second one Mary is wearing a full face of makeup. The covers were published in 2007, timed with the series’ 75th anniversary. Evidently, they were not a big hit; the HarperCollins Little House website has no trace of these covers whatsoever.
“Orange you glad I didn’t say banana?” If you have a child under the age of seven, you’ve probably endured a period where you heard that one every day. As these sort of jokes go, the orange/banana knock-knock is actually a pretty good one — which is not the case with most of what you find in kids’ humor collections. (The tip-off, of course, is anything promising “1,000 MORE of the Very Best Knock-Knock Jokes!”)
Failed jokes and riddles fall into many categories. There are, for starters…
The ones that presume familiarity with obscure phrases. What’s a ghost’s favorite kind of music? Haunting melodies. Why did the boys shoot their BB guns in the air? They wanted to shoot the breeze.
The ones that presume knowledge of farm life. What did the little calf say to the haystack? Are you my fodder? (My little city chickens have never heard the word “fodder”)
The ones that presume knowledge of U.S. geography. What’s the capital of Alaska? Come on, Juneau this one! (Sadly, we didn’t.)
The ones that presume knowledge of the Bible. Who was the only character in the Bible without a father? Joshua, because he was the son of Nun. (I had to to do a Google search to even understand this.)
The ones that presume familiarity with Telly Savalas. Knock-knock. Who’s there? Hugh. Hugh who? Hugh loves ya baby! (I swear, this was in a joke book published in 2007!)
Of the humor books I’ve scoured, my favorite so far is Laugh Out Loud Jokes for Kids by Rob Elliott ($4.99, Spire) which has a better ratio of groaners to good ones than most. (What do you get from a pampered cow? Spoiled milk.) I was also happy to stumble upon the thoroughly fascinating — if at times offensive — 1963 collection Jokes For Children by Marguerite Kohl and Frederica Young. This out-of-print-book is full of quaint classics, but also jokes so violent you can scarcely believe they were meant for kids. In the “Whoppers and Insults” chapter you get stuff like: Want to lose ten pounds of ugly fat? Sure. Cut off your head. Here’s a disturbing one: Father: Broke my kid of biting his nails. Friend: You did– how? Father: Knocked his teeth out. There’s even a section called “The Little Moron.”
I recently did a call out to friends, asking for their favorite kids’ jokes. I think these are all winners but feel free to argue.
15 NO-FAIL KIDS’ JOKES*
1. What did the flounder say to the shrimp? “You’re being shellfish.”
2. What time is it when you get a toothache? Tooth-hurty.
3. What do you call a pig who knows karate? Pork chop.
4. What letters contain nothing? M-T
5. What does a snowman eat for breakfast? Frosted Flakes
6. When can you knock over a full glass and not spill any water? When it’s full of milk.
7. Why is 2 + 2 = 5 like your left foot? It’s not right.
8. Why did the chewing gum cross the road? It was stuck to the chicken.
9. What do you call a deer with no eyes? No eye-deer (no idea).
10. Which are the two coldest letters? I-C
11. What did 0 say to 8? Nice belt.
12. How do you spell “ninjas?” S … because the ninja is silent.
13. Knock-knock. Who’s there? Isabel. Isabel who? Is the bell broken? I had to knock.
14. Knock-knock. Who’s there? Interrupting cow. Interrupting c—–Moo! (interrupts)
15. What word is always pronounced wrong? Wrong.
BONUS (apologies in advance): What is the most constipated condiment? Mus-turd.
Did I miss any good ones? Please let me know in the comments below.
*Special credit goes to our pediatrician and Sam & Daisy Harris