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!]

Children's Poetry Blog Hop: On Haiku

When my friend (and fearless leader of Wednesday writers) Jackie Jules asked if I would participate in the Children's Poetry Blog Hop, I knew I had to say yes. What I didn't know was what I was going to say next. You know, on the subject of children's poetry. I'm supposed to ask (and answer) three questions in a Mortimer Minute. Here goes:

Formal or free verse? Formal. As a writer, I like the freedom of working within certain contraints, and the subversive pleasure of defying them.

A favorite form? Haiku. Three lines: one breath. I teach haiku as part of a program for families that uses observation, discussion, and poetry (or sketching, or sound) to explore works of art, and I encourage my families to think about haiku as an experience--capturing a moment--not an exercise in counting syllables. 5-7-5 doesn't work in English the way it does in Japanese; try short-long-short instead.

A collection of haiku for children? My favorite is Today and Today; haiku by master Kobayashi Issa, pictures by G. Brian Karas (Scholastic, 2007). Karas selected and arranged 18 of Issa's haiku to tell a story of four seasons--one ordinary, extraordinary year--in the life of a family. Our library shelves it with the picture book fiction rather than the poetry, actually. It's beautiful, understated but very sad.

That's all for the Mortimer Minute! And thank you, Jackie, for asking me to participate: as it turns out, I did have something to say about children's poetry. Maybe even more than a minute's worth! If you do, too, please consider participating in the Children's Poetry Blog Hop. Mortimer and I will thank you.

[Poetry Friday is at Jama's Alphabet Soup today. Thanks, Jama!]

How old is that in blog years?

Books Together is six years old today. It's easy to remember the anniversary of my first post, because it coincided with what would have been Astrid Lindgren's 100th birthday: we celebrated at the House of Sweden. I think we're catching up to her.

I've been quieter than usual this year, partly because of Batchelder Business: I'm on the 2014 Award Committee, a tremendous privilege for me (I was pretty sure they had me confused with another Anamaria Anderson) and one that makes it hard to write publicly about what I'm reading most of the time. I can say that I see translated literature and culturally diverse literature for children as two sides of the same coin. Let's mint more of them.

[The image above is by Argentine illustrator Isol, who received  the 2013 Astrid Lindgren Memorial Award for lifetime achievement. At 41, speaking of birthdays!]

Reports from Kidlitcon and One Photo of a Cat

Children's (and YA) book bloggers met up in Austin over the weekend for the seventh annual Kidlitcon. I've only managed to attend one--the one right here in Washington, DC--but it was so worthwhile I always wish I could go (well, as long as I'm wishing, I wish it were in Washington every year. But failing that, I do wish I could go). Fortunately, I can at least benefit from everyone who did go and then blogged about it, most especially Charlotte, who together with Katy (Books YA Love) and Melissa (Book Nut), moderated a panel on Blogging Middle Grade; and Jen, who presented with Sarah on Blogger Burnout. Since I would do more of the first if I didn't have a case of the second, I appreciate their insights and advice. Look, I'm blogging already! I've also taken to heart keynote speaker Cynthia Leitich Smith's recommendations regarding cat photos. This is not my cat.

Journey by Aaron Becker

Everything you've read or heard about Aaron Becker's Journey (Candlewick) is true: it's a magical, beautiful book, more than a little reminiscent of Harold and the Purple Crayon, with detailed illustrations done in watercolor and pen and ink. And wordless, like Barbara Lehman's The Red Book (HMH Books for Young Readers, 2004), with which it also has a lot in common: crossing oceans, finding friends.

My favorite spreads are the earlier ones, of a forest hung with fairy lights and Chinese lanterns, and of the glorious loch castle on the cover: I lingered there for a long time. Unfortunately for me, Journey doesn't. Instead, it takes to the air, and I'm not entirely on board with the steampunk airships and samurai soldiers--bad guys, ordered by their emperor to catch and cage a purple, phoenix-like bird. And keep it in a golden pagoda. Hmm.

Anyway, girl frees bird, bird rescues girl (there's a magic carpet of her own making involved), girl meets boy, the end. For now. It's still a magical, beautiful book, only not quite one for me.

You might love it, though. I really wanted to--just look at it!

National Book Festival

Who's going to the National Book Festival this weekend? We've gone almost every year since we moved back to the Washington, DC area in 2002. This year is extra-special, though: my friend Madelyn Rosenberg's middle grade novel Canary in the Coal Mine (Holiday House, 2013) was chosen to represent the state of West Virginia as one the Library of Congress's 52 Great Reads. I think that could be Bitty (the canary in question) at the upper right of Suzy Lee's gorgeous festival poster, actually! Madelyn (not Bitty) will be at the Pavilion of the States on Saturday and would love it if you stopped by to say hello. Oh, there will be lots of other authors (and illustrators) at the Festival, too. We're hoping to hear Kevin Henkes on Saturday, or else Grace Lin on Sunday. Maybe both!

Waiting on Wednesday: A Question of Magic

Fans of Baba Yaga stories whose appetite was whetted by Jillian Tamaki's retelling in Fairy Tale Comics (First Second, 2013) can look forward to E.D. Baker's middle grade novel A Question of Magic (Bloomsbury), available October 1. Here's the publisher's description:

"Serafina was living the normal life of a village girl, when she gets a mysterious letter--her first letter ever, in fact--from a great aunt she's never heard of in another village. Little does 'Fina know, her great aunt is actually a Baba Yaga, a magical witch who lives in an even more magical cottage.

Summoned to the cottage, Serafina's life takes an amazing turn as she finds herself becoming the new Baba Yaga. But leaving behind home and the boy she loves isn't easy, and as Serafina grows into her new and magical role answering the first question any stranger might ask her with the truth, she also learns about the person she's meant to be, and that telling the future doesn't always mean knowing the right answers."

[Me again.] So Serafina becomes Baba Yaga! Presumably she doesn't eat any little children. I didn't know Baba Yaga answered questions, either, but maybe that's because she doesn't like to--they age her (I know how that feels). Thanks to Jennifer at Jean Little Library for her review of A Question of Magic, which made me want to read the book; I'm glad I don't have long to wait.

[Apparently there is an Ask Baba Yaga advice column of sorts! Cryptic and completely unrelated to the book, though.]

Fairy Tale Comics with bonus Baba Yaga

This collection of Fairy Tale Comics: Classic Tales Told by Extraordinary Cartoonists (edited by Chris Duffy; First Second, 2013) first caught my eye at Charlotte's Library (it's on a blog tour). Fairy tales are my weakness: I might be a reluctant reader of graphic novels in general, but even I can't resist a collection of fairy tale comics. There are 17 different tales here, each adapted and illustrated by a different cartoonist, so there's lots to choose from in terms of both story (a nice mix of mostly familiar and some not-so tales) and style. I'll follow up with my favorites, too.

In the meantime, take a sneak peek at the entirety of Baba Yaga, as retold by Jillian Tamaki for Fairy Tale Comics, over at Tor.com. The collection will be available in print 9/24.

[Based on the cover art of Little Red Riding Hood (and laughing wolf) by Eleanor Davis, I was especially looking forward to that one, but it turns out that Gigi D.G. retold it (with female woodcutter) in the book!]