Hilda and the Midnight Giant

'Hilda and the Midnight Giant' by Luke Pearson is a comic book and not really designed specially for children but something that will definitely appeal to all fans of Tove Jansson's Moomins. Bill certainly pounced on it and its smaller but also perfectly formed prequel 'Hildafolk' and lapped both up.

Published by Nobrow Press; a treasure trove of graphic delights for grown ups (don't miss their multiple takes on creation in 'Graphic Cosmogeny'), the 'Hilda' books introduce us to the world of Hilda, her architect mother and unspecified dog/reindeer/fox friend living in (apparently) splendid isolation in a lodge in the mountains. In the first book (which is a slim, fairly short little comic- A5 size) Hilda starts to discover more about the different varieties of trolls, elves and spirits inhabiting the valleys around them. The true magic of the landscape is revealed to her and to us, as well as some important information on how to manage Trolls without offence.

In 'Hilda and the Midnight Giant' (much longer,a lovely A4 hardback) this idea is extended further, when Hilda discovers that far from living in isolation, their lodge is actually positioned bang in the middle of an elven town and she and her mother have been treading all over their houses every time they step outside.
A state of war has been declared and an active campaign to forcibly evict them results in nightly raids on their lodge. Hilda must mount a charm offensive with the tiny Mayor if she is to prevent her and her mother's relocation to the city.
There is also a subplot about the loneliness of the last remaining mountain guardian giant who Hilda must help find his lost love.
Throw in some rideable, migrating cloud 'Woffs', a chair made of ear wax, a mysterious neighbour who is made of wood and the problems that occur when snow blocks your ears over a millennium and you have whole lotta charm and magic without anything corruptingly sickly or too much whimsy.

Oh, and Luke Pearson draws just lovely too (much better pictures if you go to the Nobrow site).

'Hilda and the Midnight Giant' by Luke Pearson, pub. Nobrow Press, isbn 978-1-907704-25-3

Oi! Get off our Train

Another of those moments where I take sharp intake of breath; 'Almost two months and no John Burningham!'
Goodness me I love his work.
And what a rich and long lasting career: A writer/illustrator whose books had been in print for a while when I was little and who's still publishing new work today.

'Oi! Get off our Train' is not necessarily his best book but it's very essence-of-John Burningham in its themes and contains some of my favourite illustrations.
Grown ups tend to be somewhat abstracted, distant presences in his books which free the children to embark on their own private adventures. In this example, a boy takes off with his pyjama-case dog on his train after lights out. They travel through distant lands encountering a range of animals escaping a variety of eco-perils. Each animal is first refused entry onto the train (hence the title) and then permitted to join the gang once their story is heard. Although the conservation message may be a little heavy handed in execution, the sub-story of the importance of flexibility in friendship and being open to new experiences is surprisingly delicately played. It's a nice tale of the power of the peer group; there can always be room for one more friend.

I like the easy going mucking about that all the train's passengers enjoy as they meander on their journey. They stop to play ghosts in the fog, fly kites, swim in the sea, muck about with umbrellas and throw snowballs. The boy is a responsible train driver though, ensuring his train does not get stuck in the snow and returns him to bed in time for school in the morning. This combination of childhood traits of wild imagination and perfectly trustworthy independent self-motivation I also think very typical John Burningham. Adult readers are gently but firmly reminded that their children are free thinking individuals and not their 'property' for moulding.

The illustrations show off his versatility, combining panels of sparse line and pastel caricature with full page spreads of marvelous dense pen and ink hatching overlaying watercolour. Glorious.

Bill and Eddie often choose this book. I'd like to think for all the well thought out reasons I have detailed above but in truth it's the opportunity to bellow 'OI! GET OFF OUR TRAIN' at regular intervals. Fair enough.

'Oi! Get off our Train' by John Burningham, pub. Red Fox isbn 978-0-099-85340-4
If you are also a fan then don't miss the splendid 'coffee table book' celebration of his career:
'John Burningham' pub by Jonathan Cape isbn 978-0-224-08366-9

Gruffalo To The Max

Don't worry. I'm not going to introduce you to a little known struggling title called 'The Gruffalo' today:
It's just possible that you may have already come across it.

I've just come back from Eddie's 'Inspire' lesson this morning however and it made me reflect on how central that book has been in inspiring his passion for words: Today is something of a hymn of praise to the Magnum Opus of Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler therefore (and a silent prayer for the time that they will be allowed to be a slightly less constant presence in our lives.)

In the Inspire workshop we were asked to make wooden spoon puppets with our children. I wasn't surprised to hear Eddie's choice of what to make today; he's been back in full-on Gruffalo fever since Christmas when the charming 'The Gruffalo's Child' animation was on the telly. I have been quite surprised by the depth of this fever this time around though. It's a bit like chicken pox- he had a very strong dose of it in his two to threes and I thought he wouldn't catch it twice.

I can't quite remember the origins of his first bout of fever but I suppose it's the book that he latched onto after 'Hooray For Fish' had been sucked dry. We read it several times a day for a while and then it joined him in bed where we would hear Eddie going through it and reciting the story again after lights out. After a while we realised he was teaching himself to read with it. He knew the story word perfectly and would go through the book slowly word by word with his finger to the text matching his knowledge to the shapes he found. He was very methodical and as he appears to be lucky enough to have a semi-photographic memory it was pretty efficient too. 'The Gruffalo' wasn't the only book he used in this way but it was the first to be ingrained I think. The words are certainly deeply ingrained in my head too.
He also had 'The Gruffalo' magnet book and for a while he would need all the (very very small) magnets of the characters to also be with him at bedtime which led to some midnight panics when the mouse slipped under his pillow or similar.

This time around life has been made easier by the existence of ever increasing amounts of Gruffalo merchandise. Eddie found the plush models of the characters in a book shop and refused to be parted from them. Luckily he had some Christmas money of his own to spend. Now they accompany him around the house along with both books, as backdrop and audience to whatever else he is doing/reading. Occasionally we build houses for them. Sometimes they need breakfast provided but normally they're fairly undemanding house guests.

His reading of 'The Gruffalo' has taken on new layers of textual analysis as he pores over each page anew. "Mum- it says here 'down by these rocks' but the picture only has one rock in it...where is the other rock Mum?"
"Is the Gruffalo really a baddy who becomes a goody or a goody who can be a baddy Mum?"
"Will the Gruffalo's Child's bumps become prickles when she is a teenager? Will she get a poisonous wart one day?" "Why is she a butterscotch colour when her dad is chocolate brown?"

These are the questions which I field daily, normally whilst staring at the fridge blankly for inspiration for the next meal.
As I say, whilst fully appreciative of the quality of the Work and all it has given my son- I won't be sorry when the fever passes once more (although that may depend, of course, on what replaces it...).

In the mean time we made a cracking Gruffalo spoon puppet if I do say so myself (no picture alas).

Team Gruffalo.

'The Gruffalo' by (you don't really need me to tell you this do you?) Julia Donaldson, illus. Axel Scheffler,
 pub. Macmillan, isbn 0-333-71093-2

Friday diversion

Not a book review today; a mini moan- only a mini one mind. I've just returned from doing an 'Impact' session with Bill at his school. 

These are termly events where parents come in for an hour to work one on one with their child in a workshop focusing on either literacy or numeracy skills. They're actually pretty fun and a nice opportunity to catch up with classroom dynamics and the skills of Bill's teachers.

Last term's session was on numeracy and was really about teaching us parents that they Don't Do it like we used to Any More. We were shown how to use a number square in some depth- no 'carrying over' apparently. I came away both informed and impressed and much better equipped to help Bill out. Good.

Today's was focused on developing writing skills. I have to say I found this a tad depressing.

It wasn't any fault of the session itself, which was fun and lively and well led; it was more confronting full on the reality of a SATS/National Curriculum approach to Creativity in all it's full glory in our otherwise funky and imaginative school.

We were introduced to 'The Story Mountain' and the children shared their knowledge with enthusiasm. Apparently all stories must have an Opening- where character and setting are established, followed by Build Up where events give clues as to what will happen, leading to Problem (the summit)- something goes wrong, then Resolution; the problem gets sorted and finally, Ending- the characters look back at the story and what they have learned.

But all stories don't work like that! In fact many of the best entirely subvert it don't they? Yesterday's read for starters. This point seemed underlined to me when the next thing we did was read 'Winnie the Witch' which proved quite hard to categorise neatly as it contains a number of Problems and false Resolutions. As Bill commented trying to plot the story arc, "It's more of a wobbly topped jelly or a castle than a mountain I think".

We were also given a set of vocabulary expanding 'WOW' words and 'approved' different ways of starting sentences to incorporate in our stories.

I realise I'm being slightly unfair (it is only a mini moan) as you have to understand the conventions fully first before you attempt the subversion. See Picasso. It was just a bit of a jolt. When we were doing the numeracy session I was entirely happy to be given the 'rules' and told how to help my child apply them- so why should it stick in my craw to apply the same to the literacy? Probably because I've been reading Michael Rosen's blog and what he talks about much more eloquently than me here and I sort of trust him more than Michael Gove.

In the end Bill and I had a lovely time with our story props of Ninja, bat and forest creating a story of blood sucking baddies and a Deep Dark Forest where an ancient line of raised-by-the-animals ninja babies must defend its secret treasure tree. I'll just have to make sure that when he writes it up properly it obeys all the conventions and makes a nice mountain or I'll be a Bad Parent. Yawn.

A Boy and a Bear in a Boat

I'm in danger of spiralling out of control into dribbly, hysterical and ever-so-slightly scary fandom today. Just slap me about the face a bit if I'm going on too much. I could be like one of those posters you see outside West End theatres that probably shouldn't be taken too literally:

'(This book is)  JUST RUDDY BRILLIANT!! RIOT, STAB, MAIM or KILL to get a copy!!!' Polly, Little Wooden Horse.

Don't obviously. But do really seriously consider simply buying or borrowing a copy of Dave Shelton's 'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' from bookshop or library. It is a thing of great beauty and just about unrivaled charm. I think/hope it might do very well and then you'll be able to say You Were There and Knew First.

It is not like any other children's book I have read, in that the title really tells you everything you need to know about the book. I am used to books for Bill that cram excitement after excitement into each incident packed chapter: The 'Billy Bonkers' approach for example which I reviewed here and of which I am also fond.  'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' by contrast takes a boy and puts him into um, a boat which is rowed by, you guessed it, a bear and sets them on a voyage through an (almost) featureless sea and sky. It is the relationship between the three which  is the story.
Guess what. Bill was enthralled despite the lack of 'Ishallmakeyouwanttoturnthepagenow', in your face plot punchers.

Not that nothing happens. The boy and the bear play 'I spy' a lot and  find an incomprehensible foreign comic. There's a nasty incident with a sandwich and some slightly hairy fishing amongst other stuff. How to make a proper cup of tea turns out to be quite important. In between there's the development of a lovely dialogue between boy and bear familiar to any parent who has ever taken their children on a long journey. Rarely has boredom been so interestingly documented.
Here's a chapter read by the author to give you a flavour.

The book is also a beautiful thing to look at and hold. It has a controversially restrained, tea stained  map cover and the story is scattered with illustrations and some double spreads by the author; who is also a comic artist. It sits in the hand very comfortably. The sort of book that you sniff and stroke if you're a bit of a weirdo...

The husband read this fresh to Bill. He's always enjoyed Magnus Mills' novels of which this is reminiscent in style. They both giggled all the way through and it was lovely to watch them both (I'd sneakily read ahead). We all really looked forward to bedtime for the next installment whilst it was on the go. There have been few books that have brought all of us together for enjoyment so successfully. We gave away a copy as a birthday present for a friend yesterday and it was great to hear Bill's passionate endorsement: 'It's really, really funny. You're gonna love it!'
Not just me see? Hope you're writing another one Mr. Shelton, no pressure or anything.

'A Boy and a Bear in a Boat' by Dave Shelton, pub. David Fickling books, isbn 978-0-385-61896-0

Ricky Ricotta

Bill is, like many other boys his age, a big Dav Pilkey fan, gobbling through all the 'Captain Underpants' books in the space of a fortnight, and regularly haunting his website for news of forthcoming releases and to play unsuitable games involving animated poo. Captain Underpants and Super Diaper Baby are also probably responsible for getting Bill interested in doing some drawing; a habit I'm glad to see increasing at the moment.

The first Dav Pilkey books he enjoyed however and indeed probably the first 'chapter' books he read were the 'Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot' series, illustrated by Martin Ontiveros. They're a great starting point for enthusing early readers who want to feel grown up or for older, less confident readers who need a boost. They also feature live 'flip-o-rama' action at regular points in the story enabling the animation of real fighting. Cool.

Ricky Ricotta is a mouse who lives in Squeakyville and has some bully problems until he befriends the giant robot created to do evil by the dastardly Dr. Stinky. Together they defeat Dr Stinky and his new monstrous Hate Lizard, save Squeakyville and become the most popular pair in the school. That's about it really.

Told in 14 chapters each of under 100 words- this is a book that is easy to read but feels ambitious and empowering to the reader. Useful stuff. There are seven more books, each featuring a different terrifying threat from our neighbouring planets. Ricky and his robot variously defeat (amongst others) the Stupid Stinkbugs from Saturn, the Jurassic Jack Rabbits from Jupiter, The Mutant Mosquitoes from Mercury and (my favourite) the Uranium Unicorns from Uranus (who knew?). It's formulaic- but hey who cares? If you're struggling to find the key to unlock the joys of trash fiction to your 5/6/7/8 year old, this might just do the job.

'Ricky Ricotta's Mighty Robot'  written Dav Pilkey, illustrated Martin Ontiveros,
 pub.  Scholastic isbn 1407107585

Whatever

A small but perfectly formed cautionary tale from William Bee today in the form of 'Whatever'.

This is a book we've had since Bill was a baby. I confess I bought it for the trivial reason that the 'hero' is a bald boy called Billy who is a mini-me of his bald Dad. At the time, Baby Bill was a hairless infant and his Dad has been similarly challenged since his early 20s. (I tell Bill now to enjoy his hair whilst he can...he'll have it for about 15 more years by my calculations)(luckily they both have lovely shaped heads ;)) Both Billy and his Dad are also extremely well dressed in matching suits which tickled me too; the husband has something of a Tailor-made suit habit.

Be warned; this is a deeply sarcastic, moody read with a dark ending. Whilst superficially for the under 5's I suppose, it has a proper sulky adolescent air about it. We all love it- being ourselves a sarky bunch- but you may disapprove. It's funny!

Billy is a grumpy un-impressible small boy. His father tries hard to show him the wonders of the world in ever- increasing escalation; the world's curliest trumpet, the world's bounciest castle, the world's steamiest train...Billy's response is always the same; 'Whatever'.

Finally Billy's dad shows him the world's hungriest tiger.

He probably should have been more impressed that time.

The book is extremely well designed- in itself as stylish as Billy and his Dad. Every aspect of it is perfectly balanced. William Bee's website is one of my favourites and will give you the measure of both his wit and control. I suspect he may not like children in the abstract very much at all.

But nobody gets to say 'whatever' in this house without a raised eyebrow and a giggle.

'Whatever' by William Bee, pub. Walker isbn 1-4063-0133-7

like it or don't- whatever.