A Year of Mandy

One of my best beloved books is Mandy by Julie [Andrews] Edwards (Harper and Row, 1971). I still have my battered Bantam paperback (1977) with the original Judith Gwyn Brown illustrations  (sadly, not the lovely hardcover edition pictured here) and reach for it whenever I'm in need of comfort reading. For those of you who haven't read Mandy, it's the story of a lonely little girl who discovers an abandoned cottage on the other side of the orphanage wall. Spring, summer, and fall, Mandy tends to the cottage and its garden, making it a place of her very own; but when winter comes, and Mandy gets sick, her secret is no longer safe.

Both thematically and structurally, Mandy's story corresponds to the seasons of the year. The book itself is divided into four sections, each with a different number of chapters (summer is the shortest), and this year, I'm planning to reread each section closely and share some thoughts--personal and professional (so to speak)--about it here. Starting with Spring, in April (because spring is somehow not here yet). I would love it if anyone wanted to join me.

[This is sort of like what Elizabeth Burns at A Chair, A Fireplace & a Tea Cozy just did with Harriet the Spy (also Harper and Row, 1964) in honor of its fiftieth anniversary. I must have read Harriet at around the same time I read Mandy (I had the Dell Yearling edition, 1980) and I confess: I didn't really like Harriet! Although I was fascinated by her. Maybe I should revisit that book, too?]

Warwick Hutton

I've just rediscovered the work of Warwick Hutton, a British author and illustrator of retellings--mythological, biblical, folk and fairy tales of all sorts. Hutton's illustrations are rendered in delicate pen-and-ink and watercolor wash and characterized by spacious sea and landscapes; oversized yet oddly graceful figures, of both people and animals; and lots of interesting compositional elements. We own only one of his books, a retelling by Susan Cooper of The Silver Cow: A Welsh Tale (Atheneum, 1985), in which the Tylwyth Teg reward a farmer's son for his playing of the harp with a beautiful, bountiful silver cow--until the greedy farmer goes a bit too far, and loses her and all the silver cows that had been born to her: the treasures of his herd. (Hutton also illustrated Cooper's retelling of The Selkie Girl; I don't like selkie stories, so I haven't read that one.)

I especially like Hutton's own retellings of Greek myths, though; these include Theseus and the Minotaur (my favorite), Perseus, and Persephone, as well as the Homeric stories of The Trojan Horse and Odysseus and the Cyclops. All of these are, sadly, out of print. Hutton himself, who was also a painter and, like his father John, a glass engraver, died in 1994 at the age of 45. I've added his books to my "must buy if I see them at the used book sale" list. They are really lovely.

2014 Astrid Lindgren and Hans Christian Andersen Awards

Congratulations to Swedish author Barbro Lindgren, winner of the 2014 Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award for lifetime achievement in the field of children's literature (Barbro is no relation to Astrid, I don't think, but it's a nice coincidence!). Our favorite Barbro book is Oink, Oink Benny, illustrated by Olof Landstrom and translated by Elisabeth Kallick Dyssegaard (2008):

"Benny is going out. He is tired of hanging around inside. Benny's little brother is going out, too.
He's also sick of hanging around inside.
"Stay away from the mudhole," says Benny's mama.
"Oink, oink,' says Benny.
Then Benny and his little brother head straight for the mudhole. [from the jacket flap]

Of course they do.

And congratulations as well to Japanese author Nahoko Uehashi and Brazilian illustrator Roger Mello, recipients of the 2014 Hans Christian Andersen Awards. Uehashi's Moribito: Guardian of the Spirit (translated by Kathy Hirano, illustrated by Yuko Shimizu; Arthur A. Levine, 2008) won the 2009 Batchelder Award, which is how I came to read it; and Moribito II: Guardian of the Darkness (2009) won a 2010 Batchelder Honor. Maybe now the rest of the series (there are ten books) will be available in translation, along with Uehashi's other fantasy novels.

But first, let's see something by Roger Mello! One of the lovely things about these awards is the hope that they will help make the work of international authors and illustrators more widely available.

[Coincidentally, I just finished 2008 ALMA winner Sonya Hartnett's novel The Children of the King (2012; first US edition Candlewick, 2014). Short version: I loved it.]

Where's Mommy? (Mary and the Mouse)

The very first book I reviewed on this blog (and I use "reviewed" loosely; perhaps better to say "mentioned") was Mary and the Mouse, the Mouse and Mary by Beverly Donofrio, illustrated by Barbara McClintock (Schwartz and Wade, 2007). So I was naturally curious about the companion book Where's Mommy?, which is out now, and am happy to report that it is just as charming as the original. It has the same parallel structure, too, picking up with Maria and Mouse Mouse at bedtime one summer evening, when they discover that their mothers (the original Mary and the Mouse) are missing. Separate searches lead them to the garden shed, and a surprise that readers of Mary and the Mouse will already suspect.

I wish I had larger images of McClintock's detailed illustrations, rendered in pen-and-ink, watercolor, and gouache, to share (see them at Schwartz and Wade's Where's Mommy? flickr set). The book takes place entirely in and around (and under) Maria's family's contemporary ranch house, all glass brick and stone--a perfect fit for the long horizontals of the double-page spreads. My favorite image is of the living room (it's in the flickr set)--besides the bookcase, which is ample, I especially like the painting on the wall: it's a reproduction of Goya's portrait of Manuel Osorio Manrique de Zuñiga, with three cats (at the Metropolitan Museum of Art). The mouse family living below gets a print of Hunca Munca from Beatrix Potter's The Tale of Two Bad Mice.

[Barbara McClintock is one of my favorite illustrators. Does anyone know whatever happened to Adele and Simon in China? It was supposed to come out Fall 2011.]

Happy International Book Giving Day

February 14 is many things, all of which I love. Among them is International Book Giving Day, celebrated around the world since 2012. It's easy to celebrate: just give a book, leave a book, or donate a book. Better yet, do all three! This year, we chose a handful of books for each of the kids' teachers, for them to keep in their classrooms or give away to kids who might not have many books at home--but we'll have to wait til Tuesday to deliver them, thanks to the snowstorm ("Snochi") that closed school today.

This year's IBGD crocodile poster was designed by Hungarian illustrator Mariann Maray, and in the spirit of this worldwide book lovers' holiday it's available in lots of different languages. ¡Celebre el día internacional de la donación de libros!

A Nine-Year-Old's Guide to the ALA Awards Ceremony

I'm still collecting my thoughts on the 2014 ALA awards (weren't the Batchelder books the best?), but in the meantime, here are my nine-year-old daughter's. She joined me in Philadelphia after my committee work was over and got to share in the excitement of the awards ceremony--and the early wake-up call.

On the train ride home that afternoon (we took the Northeast Regional, which is not quite the same thing as the Transcontinental Railroad), I "interviewed" her about the whole experience, and she had some advice for future awards ceremony attendees and webcast watchers alike. Her recommendations are as follows (I just added the links):

Before the awards ceremony

• I recommend trying to figure out what will win one of the awards. Just one, though--trying to guess the Newbery and the Caldecott would be too much.
• I was on a Mock Caldecott Committee at my school this year and had read the winner and honor books, which made it exciting when they were announced. Also Knock Knock, which won the Coretta Scott King Illustrator Award, and Nino Wrestles the World, which won the Pura Belpre Illustrator Award. They could have won the Caldecott, too.

• Pick another award that you don't know a lot about and find out more about it. I didn't know about the Schneider and Stonewall Awards, but now I want to read some of those books, like Handbook for Dragon Slayers.
• Think a lot about the awards and what it would mean to you if you won one.

The day of the awards (if you're lucky enough to go):

• Look around you and just enjoy it.
• There was a man on the Odyssey Award committee sitting across the aisle from me and he was enthusiastic about everything. That was great!
• Booing is not right. There should be lots of applause for every book that wins, even if it was not your favorite.
• The audio of Scowler was just creepy.

[Me again.] Out of the mouths of babes. I pretty much agree entirely, and especially with her point about the CSK and Belpre winners. Do you have anything to add?

2014 Cybils Reading Challenge

One of my favorite things about New Year's Day is the announcement of the Cybils shortlists. In the past, after being on a first round panel in the fall, I've set myself a Cybils Reading Challenge of one new-to-me book in each of the other categories before the winners are announced on February 14. It hasn't caught on anywhere else, though, and this year I am abandoning it in favor of reading all of the shortlisted books in one category (my favorite): Elementary and Middle Grade Speculative Fiction.

I definitely missed being on the first round panel (I had other book award commitments and couldn't apply), but I like the list this year's panelists came up with--especially Jinx by Sage Blackwood (HarperCollins, 2013), which exemplifies the qualities of literary merit and kid appeal that the Cybils recognize. I read Jinx early last year (maybe even late the year before), so I might reread it now and then treat myself to the sequel, Jinx's Magic (Katherine Tegen Books, 2014), which comes out on Tuesday.

Anyone else want to try this year's version of the Cybils Reading Challenge? Here's the complete Elementary and Middle Grade Speculative Fiction shortlist:

• Jinx by Sage Blackwood (HarperCollins)
• Lockwood & Co.: The Screaming Staircase by Jonathan Stroud (Disney Hyperion)
• Rose by Holly Webb (Sourcebooks Jabberwocky)
• Sidekicked by John David Anderson (Walden Pond Press)
• The Rithmatist by Brandon Sanderson (Tor Teen)
• The True Blue Scouts of Sugar Man Swamp by Kathi Appelt (Atheneum)
• The Water Castle by Megan Frazer Blakemore (Walker Books for Young Readers)

Where would you start?

Lobel's Lucia

Today is Santa Lucia Day, which may or may not mean anything to you depending on whether you're Swedish. I'm not, but my husband's grandfather was, and we celebrate the day with Santa Lucia buns and books (I've written about Lucia and the Light by Phyllis Root and Hugo and Josephine by Maria Gripe here in other years, but somehow haven't gotten around to Kirsten's Surprise by Janet Shaw, from the American Girls Collection. Maybe next year). My son outgrew his starboy hat a couple of years ago, but my daughter still wears her (battery-operated) crown.

This lovely image of a "Lucia bride," wearing the traditional white gown and crown of candles, is by Anita Lobel, from Christmas Crafts: Things to make the 24 days before Christmas by Carolyn Meyer (Harper & Row, 1974). It's one of my favorite Christmas books, with international Christmas traditions and projects for every day. Some of them are a little dated (there's macrame), but many others have become our family's Christmas traditions, too: from making homemade advent calendars (December 1) to decorating a tree for the birds (December 23) and baking a chocolate yule log (December 24).

Lobel's black-and-white illustrations (and there are lots of them) are a big part of the charm of Christmas Crafts. I love Lobel's work any time of year, but at Christmas, don't miss her illustrations for The Night Before Christmas: A Victorian Vision of the Christmas Classic by Clement C. Moore (2000) and The Stable Rat and Other Christmas Poems by Julia Cunningham (2001). Come to think of it, A New Coat for Anna by Harriet Zeifert, with pictures by Anita Lobel (Knopf, 1986) is a Christmas story, too--and it's still in print. Happy Santa Lucia Day!

The Christmas Mystery by Jostein Gaarder

I had been reading one chapter a night of Jostein Gaarder's The Christmas Mystery (1992; translated from the Norwegian by Elizabeth Rokkan, 1996) aloud to my daughter this advent. Sadly, we only made it to Day 6. The premise of Gaarder's book is good (if structurally familiar to readers of The Solitaire Mystery or even Sophie's World): Joachim discovers a magic advent calendar (yes! a magic advent calendar is good) in an old bookstore. Behind each door is a picture--and a tightly folded piece of paper telling another story, about Elisabet's journey across Europe and back two thousand years, to Bethlehem at the time of the Nativity.

Eventually Joachim's and Elisabet's stories interwine, but we didn't make it that far--Elisabet's story was a lot less interesting (or more philosophical) than Joachim's. Maybe I'll try again on my own, since I can read a lot faster than I can read aloud, although I am probably less patient than my nine-year-old.

Note: We are reading the English edition, illustrated by Rosemary Wells. The illustrations are not as magical as I would like, and other reviewers agree, preferring Stella East's illustrations in the Norwegian edition pictured here (Aschehoug, 1995). Maybe that would help?

Wayland by Tony Mitton and John Lawrence

Out of the lands in the chill, far North come legends from long ago. This is the story of Wayland Smith, the strangest of all I know.

Those are the opening lines of Wayland: The Tale of the Smith from the Far North, retold by Tony Mitton and illustrated with vinyl engravings by master engraver John Lawrence (David Fickling Books, 2013). Wayland (according to the author's note, which I read using Amazon UK's Look inside! feature) was a legendary smith who took a swan-maiden for a wife. When she leaves him, he dedicates himself to his work, hoping to win her back. Instead, he is captured by a greedy king and imprisoned on a sunless island, where he must hide the treasures he makes in an intricate maze. Ultimately, Wayland makes himself a pair of wings and flies off in search of his wife--and in Mitton's retelling, at least, they are reunited.

The cover of Wayland, with its checkerboard pattern of red flames and white feathers, only hints at the boldness and beauty of Lawrence's expressive engravings. Some of them are available to view online at Illustration Cupboard, which held an exhibition of Lawrence's work on this and other books (including Philip Pullman's His Dark Materials and T.H. White's The Once and Future King). And some of those are available for purchase, although I would be happy enough to have only the book.

Sculptor's Daughter: A Childhood Memoir by Tove Jansson

Books I Want is apparently becoming a regular feature here. This week, I'm wanting Tove Jansson's first book for adults, which is actually a collection of stories called Sculptor's Daughter: A Childhood Memoir. It's been re-released by Sort Of Books in a deluxe edition that includes rare images from the Jansson family archives ("a perfect Christmas gift," says the publisher), such as the one of eight-year-old Tove on the cover. I've not read any of Jansson's adult fiction, but Sculptor's Daughter seems like a good place to start, despite the title. Why do so many books about women identify them as someone else's--usually a man's--daughter or wife? In this case, the sculptor is Jansson's father, Viktor. For the record, her mother, Signe Hammarsten-Jannson, was an illustrator and graphic designer. Also probably just as influential on Tove.

One of the stories in this collection, "The Iceberg," is available to read online (The Independent, November 3, 2013), and it is lovely, keenly observed (lived, really) and true to a child's experiences and emotions. The whole collection, in paperback and with a more anonymous cover photograph of a snowy landscape, will be published in the US by William Morrow in January 2014. If you can wait that long.

Almost Betsy-Tacy and Tib Dolls

If only someone at Land of Nod had read the Betsy-Tacy books! The Knit Crowd dolls are almost perfect replicas of Betsy, Tacy, and Tib as they look in Lois Lenski's illustrations for the first four books. Just switch the hair color on the brown and yellow-haired dolls and shorten the braids, and you have Betsy and Tib (the ballet dress is better on Tib anyway). And Tacy's red (orange) ringlets are exactly right. Sadly, all three dolls are sold out til early February, but that just means you have time to reread the books, conveniently reprinted in the The Betsy-Tacy Treasury by Maud Hart Lovelace (William Morrow, 2011). I still have my 1970s Harper Trophy editions; judging from their condition, Betsy-Tacy and Tib was my favorite. This image is from Chapter II, Learning to Fly. 

[I am not affiliated with Land of Nod! Although maybe if I had been the dolls, otherwise adorable, would have had the right color hair. I might have to buy the Tacy one anyway. For Milly (ahem).]

Three Caldecott Hopefuls Written and Illustrated by Women

There's been a lot of discussion about the disproportionate number of picture books illustrated by men on "Best of" lists this year (not to mention in the history of the Caldecott) and why that might be. I'd already noticed that both of the Caldecott Hopefuls I've posted about this fall (all three if you count Journey) are written and illustrated by men: Mr. Tiger Goes Wild and Building Our House. So in the interest of drawing attention to books written and illustrated by women, I put together an equivalent list of Caldecott Hopefuls--not because each book doesn't deserve its own post (I worried that someone might think I thought that), but because there is strength in numbers, and people like lists. 

Niño Wrestles the World by Yuyi Morales (Neal Porter/Roaring Brook). Yuyi Morales is a force to be reckoned with. I'm not entirely sure she's still eligible for the Caldecott--she may have moved to Mexico--but I think she should win it anyway: Niño is the real deal. Do not miss KT Horning's detailed argument for its greatness on Calling Caldecott ("Niño wrestles the Caldecott Committee", 10/23/2013). That, ladies and gentlemen, is how it's done. 

Little Red Writing by Joan Holub; illustrated by Melissa Sweet (Chronicle). Melissa Sweet has not one but three Caldecott contenders this year (the other two are Brave Girl by Michelle Markel and A Splash of Red by Jen Bryant), but this one is my favorite, on account of the Wolf 3000 pencil sharpener. 

This Is Our House by Hyewon Yum (Frances Foster Books/FSG). This is a sentimental favorite: I live with my family on the same street where I grew up, just like the mom in this book. Even the house number is almost the same! (We were at 855.) I still think Yum's The Twins' Blanket (FSG) was one of the best books of 2011, and the same is true of last year's Mom, It's My First Day of Kindergarten! (also FSG): she's an author and illustrator to look out for.

There are more, of course. My daughter would add The Story of Fish and Snail by Deborah Freedman (Viking) to this list, for example (I'm not convinced). Any others?

Books I Want: The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt

The publisher's description of the 1962 Dutch children's classic The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, available now for the first time in English (translated by Laura Watkinson; Pushkin Press, 2013), is practically irresistible: 

It is the dead of night. Sixteen-year-old Tiuri must spend hours locked in a chapel in silent contemplation if he is to be knighted the next day. But, as he waits by the light of a flickering candle, he hears a knock at the door and a voice desperately asking for help. A secret letter must be delivered to King Unauwen across the Great Mountains – a letter upon which the fate of the entire kingdom depends.

[Me.] Now that's an evocative premise. Tiuri must open the door, because that's what a knight would do--but then he won't be knighted, so he may as well deliver the letter....

Tiuri’s journey will take him through dark, menacing forests, across treacherous rivers, to sinister castles and strange cities. He will encounter enemies who would kill to get the letter, but also the best of friends in the most unexpected places. He must trust no one. He must keep his true identity secret. Above all, he must never reveal what is in the letter…

[Me again.] What is in the letter? I must know. Thank goodness for Book Depository.

[Here's a review in the Irish Times comparing The Letter to the King to Tolkien's The Lord of the Rings, 11/3/2013].

The Mystery of Fairy Oak

I am so curious about Fairy Oak. Why haven't the Fairy Oak books--a trilogy, followed by a series of four mysteries, by Italian author Elisabetta Gnone--made it to the United States? They seem to have been widely available in Italian and Spanish (not to mention Basque, Catalan, and Galician--Fairy Oak must be very popular in Spain) since the first book, Il Segretto delle Gemelle, was published in 2005. There's even an English translation (The Twins' Secret) by Alastair McEwen, but it's nearly impossible to find. I know, because I've been looking for it since I saw the Fairy Oak books at the airport in Rome two years ago.

Fortunately, I've been able to find out more about Fairy Oak via the Italian site and, in English, the Fairyoakpedia. The trilogy is the story of twin sisters Vanilla and Lavender Periwinkle, who turn out to be Witches of Light and Dark respectively, and together with their magical friends (I love all the character descriptions) must save Fairy Oak from its old enemy, the Terrible 21st. The world of Fairy Oak might be more interesting than the war, actually: it looks like something Studio Ghibli might have made, only frillier (actually, Gnone worked for Disney). Maybe I will have to locate an Italian edition after all, though that won't help my American nine-year-old. Who would probably love it.

Captain Cat and the Count of Monte Cristo

There are lots of cats at sea this year, many of them on board the Carlotta in Captain Cat by Inga Moore (Candlewick, 2013). This is a rambling retelling (I mean that in the best possible way--I like a little rambling) of an Italian tale about a trader who arrives on an island overrun by rats only to be richly rewarded for his cargo of cats. Other traders follow, expecting more of the same, but in turn they are rewarded...with kittens! Moore's illustrations of captain and cats of all colors are charming, although I could have done without the neat rows of rat corpses lined up on the Royal Palace floor.

This is one of my favorite folktales: I first ran across it in The Thread of Life: Twelve Old Italian Tales retold by Domenico Vittorini and illustrated by Mary GrandPre (Running Press Kids, 1995). I was working on my own retelling, since abandoned, when Martha Hamilton and Mitch Weiss retold it as Priceless Gifts (illustrated by John Kanzler; August House, 2007). I wish everyone had better source notes for it, though (Hamilton and Weiss cite Vittorini, and Moore doesn't cite anyone at all). Apparently, islands overrun by rats are quite common in folktales.

And in real life, too: recently the island of Montecristo (see: Count of), in the Tuscan Archipelago, attempted to eradicate its population of black rats. Only now they use rat poison.

 It looks a lot like the rocky, remote island in Captain Cat, actually!

Merlin

We're all watching Merlin, the BBC series (on NBC and Syfy in the US, and now via Netflix), and enjoying it immensely. It has politics and intrigue; swordplay, romance, and magic: something for everyone (I'm not saying who likes what best, but my thirteen year old son and nine year old daughter are equally taken with it. Their parents, too). It's also sent me on a quest of sorts, for Arthurian reading material to suit each of us. An excuse to revisit old favorites, really (White and Stewart, for me, and probably Gerald Morris's Knights' Tales for the kids), but I hope to discover some new ones. Any recommendations?

Hild

I don't think if I can wait til Christmas to read Hild by Nicola Griffith (FSG, 2013), a novel set in seventh-century Britain about the girl who becomes Saint Hilda of Whitby. Griffith wrote about Hild and genre (Fantasy or history?, 11/12/2013) for Tor.com, and Amal El-Mohtar reviewed the book for NPR in the context of conversations about women in historical fiction--and historical fantasy (Hild Destroys Myths of Medieval Womanhood, 11/14/2013). The early medieval world, historical fantasy, women (and children--Hild is just three at the beginning of the  novel), warriors and saints: I have a deep and abiding interest in them all. And lo, today is the feast day of Saint Hilda!

[That gorgeous cover is by Italian twins Anna and Elena Balbusso.]

More Jonathan Bean: Big Snow

A little bonus post to go with Caldecott Hopefuls: Building Our House. This is Jonathan Bean's Big Snow (FSG, 2013), and the forecast is warm and cozy (there's cookie baking, but also bathroom cleaning, which one doesn't see so often in picture books), with occasional flurries and the exciting possibility, real or imagined, of big snow.

I don't have as much to say about Big Snow (although it is a perfectly fine book, exemplary even) as I did about Building Our House, which is really the point of this post: only one of these books feels like a Caldecott contender to me. Would comparing them help to articulate why that is? Or maybe I'm wrong and Bean will pull off another Klassen!

Caldecott Hopefuls: Building Our House

With a publication date of January 8, Building Our House by Jonathan Bean (FSG) might have been the very first Caldecott-eligible picture book I read in 2013. I had it in the house when my Mini Mock Caldecott Committee met later that month, and it was all I could do to resist sharing it with them. My fondness for Building Our House has only grown stronger with time, and this morning I had the pleasure of reading it again with my daughter, after she had a chance to discuss it at Caldecott Club (this one is run by her elementary school librarian).

Here's what we think: Part of what makes Building Our House such a satisfying book is the way it's made. As it should be, since the book itself is about building something to last. Everything from the trim size (taller than average) to the creamy, matte paper it's printed on speaks to this point. And the Author's Note includes vintage 1970s photographs of the Bean family at work on building their house, rounding out the reader's experience, too.

Of course, the illustrations themselves are full of satisfying details and subplots, continuity and change. There's also plenty to learn about construction, from setting the corners of the foundation by the North Star to machines and tools and good old-fashioned hard work. Check out Mom on the cover with a circular saw.

One thing we were curious about was the evergreen branch visible at the peak of the house on framing day (and for a few months after, until the cold rains fall). We did a little research: apparently, when the last beam is placed at the top of a building there is a ceremony called topping out--on skyscrapers, even!

I could go on and on (I sort of already have). Building Our House. It's our favorite.

[See Laying the Foundation for a Great Picture Book at Seven Impossible Things Before Breakfast for so.much.MORE. Thank you, Jules and Jonathan!]