King Jack and the Dragon

Author: Peter Bently

Illustrator: Helen Oxenbury

Publisher: Puffin Books, 2011

Here's a fun, spirit rousing book depicting the power of children's imaginations. My daughter (nearly 4) asked for this book in the week as 'the book about fighting dragons all day long and then thinking you'd like to fight them some more', which I thought was a pretty accurate description of the whole narrative. 

Here we have 'King Jack', his friends, and what seems to be his baby brother, playing out in a makeshift fort in the garden, made from 'a big cardboard box, an old sheet and somesticks, a couple of bin bags, a few broken bricks.' We love this, it's very playful, very everyday, and to a child, very real, tangible. Helen Oxenbury does a lovely job with the illustrations, pen and ink in simple black and white, and then pen and watercolour, roughly one drawing per line. My children have enjoyed this book from about 2 years old onwards, and I think this is because of the high ration of picture to line, it's punchy, easy to read aloud, and leads in to the excitement straight away.  

The little boy in the book, Jack, is leading his troops into battle, defending his castle from 'dragon attack'. The depiction of the dragons and beasts is very fantastical, echoing this theme of the story being a lift from Jack's imagination. The 'creature' pictures certainly have lots of detail ( smoking nostrils, scales, dangly tongues), but might be slightly scary for very young children; they're reminiscent of those in Where The Wild Things are, and of course Oxenbury's own earlier, dream-like creatures in Edward Lear's The Quangle Wangle's Hat. 

With his wooden sword and fists punching the air, the gung-ho adventure culminates in the beasts being chased away by the band of boys, but then there's a really nice, endearing twist in the story where the adults start intervening in the days activities, bringing the playtime to a close. Jack can't except that his lovely day outside is over, so sees that brave knight 'Sir  Zak' has been taken away by a giant (his friend Zak appears to be collected by his dad), then Baby Caspar (his brother) is taken off to bed. Determined to stick it out, despite his growing fears as the garden gets dark, Jack holds fast in his box-fort, until he gets a fright of his own from a 'thing with four feet.' As the shadow lifts and his parents are revealed, reader and character share the same sense of relief. The story ends beautifully with Jack very much a 'boy' being carried in his dads shoulders, and the finale illustration of Jack happily asleep in bed with knight's sword still in hand. 

The book paints this really comforting story of safe imaginative play, content days, childhood fun, friendship, brotherhood and days out in the garden. The soft greens in the book almost smell like summer, and Oxenbury's characteristic close knit hatching make the pictures feel intimate, deep in  perspective, and warm and rich on the eyes. 

A lovely enchanting story that sums up happy childhood and adventure play, all cleverly recalled by Bentley through a child's perspective. 

The BFG

Author: The BFG himself, but he uses the pen name Roald Dahl!
Illustrator: Quentin Blake 

I hadn't read The BFG myself as a child; what a joy to discover this book at the same time as my child! We laughed at different moments, we studied different illustrations, but we definitely enjoyed the same book. The experience of discovering and sharing The BFG with my 'notmucher' and 'squeakpip' was like a gloriumptious phizz-whizzing dream for me, a phizzwizzard infact! (and if you're a BFGer, like me, you'll now know what I mean). This book means joining an institution, pre BFG and after. 

Reading the BFG aloud requires embracing and learning a new language, gobblefunk, author Roald Dahl's made up language. The language is built of borrowing and misplacing existing words, much how modern Mandarian evolves, and strangely makes so much sense to a native speaker. Alf (7) however, is less familiar with older formal English, so used the words context ( solely, only) to understand the meaning of the new words. The BFG then, is a fantastic book for building reading comprehension in young children, and the ability to understand how language might imply and infer meaning. 

What Alf and I both agree was or favourite aspect of the book, was the unorthodox ending. Alf kept thinking that the Heads of the Army and Navy would be traitors, and tie the BFG up, but the book turns crazily pro monarchy and optimistic at the ending, and we weren't expecting that. It was refreshing to have such a wildly happy ending, with the BFG employed to live in th UK as a sort of royal dream blower and monarchy defender. 


Alf (7 year old boy) found phizz popping (farting) truly hilarious, whilst I was less hysterical. I was interested in the dream catching, implanting and storing of dreams, whilst Alf said that was too long, and was without the 'bad guys' ( the other giants). On that note, in all these years living alongside, but not in, BFG popular culture in the U.K., I had never realised the BFG was 'the big friendly giant' and that he indeed came from Giantland, and that there would be other giants in this book; it was a magical but also frightening discovery.

Quentin Blake's scratchy little pen drawings throughout, bring welcome visual stimulation forthe reader/ listener, and make the story feel pacy and flowing. I especially liked the silhouettes of the BFG as they made him look larksome and childlike, dancing about in the distance. Alf meanhwile, liked the illustrations that gave him perspective on Sophie's height compared to that of the BFG. We shared, I suppose, the same sense of worry, suspense that Sophie might get eaten by the unruly giant mob, and Alf found the giants descriptive names, 'Childchewer' and 'Meatdripper' for example, both disgusting and very funny in both measure. 

The BFG felt much easier than some of the other Roald Dahl's to read aloud. We've also tried The Twits and Fatastic Mr Fox in the past, but this story was slightly less dialogue laboured and, I felt, flowed more naturally. As with the other Roald Dahl's we have read, elements of the book were scary, such as Sophie hiding from the giant hand in her orphanage dormitory at the start of the book, but at the age range of 6+ years (7years for us), fear and fun developmentally seem to reach a binary and hence Alf experienced fear and excitement, begging not to stop at the end of each chapter. 

In all, a fantastic read, and I'm so pleased I saved some books back in my childhood, to read for the first time with my children. 

KIDS

Written and Illustrated by: Catherine and Laurence Anholt
Publisher: Walker Books, Ltd, 1992

I feel truly privileged to own a copy of this book. I enjoy reading KIDS hugely, and laugh at the same parts every time (like meeting up with an old friend). The little quips in the book ('here's a kid who hid in some coal' - cue coal dusted child), feel fresh and fun, and despite being written in the 1990s, would be approved as 'PC' even today (I suppose the 'nasty' kids and 'nice' kids might get a bit of a redress in today's classrooms, but my children find these two pages of the book particularly amusing). Generally though being so in line with today's politically correct is incredible really, given that KIDS is about difference and similarity, the sort of topic where what's acceptable and how it's discussed changes rapidly and progressively (on the most part). 

Most importantly with this book, the authors were celebrating and putting diversity on the British children's literature map long before others (with the exception of Janet and Alan Ahlberg possibly, so for example, 'The Baby Catalogue'(1984)), and certainly before this became a part of a wider cultural and political 'agenda'. The differences between kids, as charted in this book, don't feel tenuous or contrived, but natural and not overplayed as those very differences are what kids have in common (nice!)


The book is structured as such, where on each page humourous observations based around a question are made, so for example, 'What do kids look like?' and then there is a reply, in this example 'freckles and badges and ink on their skirts, glasses and smiles and hanging-out shirts.' The Anholt writing and illustrating duo paint this lovely, rich anthology of childhood, showing how gaps in teeth, cuts on knees, getting in a muddle, hiding, stashing items in pockets, having fears, are universal. Alongside the Anholt's signature illustrations (ink and watercolour, detail on clothes, accessories, espousing diversity) the message created is, while kids might all look different there's plenty they do that's the same. 

KIDS is written in iambic tetrameter, so it sounds 'chugging', charging almost. I love that at the end of the book, parent characters are introduced, and they are portrayed as equally diverse, and in a hurry, and busy. On the last page of the book the rhyming verse starts with the letters to spell 'KIDS' in the vertical, and calms the charge right down with 'Kiss us when, It's nearly night: Dads and mums, Switch off the light.' Great memorable way to end and children's book and nice closure for bedtime.

In terms of age range, this book easily spans from 2-7years, and seems more appropriate as my children get older in fact. Alf (7) is all about 'adjective' collecting at school at the moment (this book is plentiful), and he's really starting to explore the concept of difference and similarity against himself - I imagine this is very age appropriate in terms of emotional development. KIDS is a great book for vocabulary building in general though, with the 'verb page' a favourite of mine (eg. 'What do kids do? mix, mess, muddle, comfort, kiss, cuddle'). (Shirley Hughes has a similar technique in her books 'Giving', 'Sharing' etc, as do The Ahlbergs in Baby Catalogue).

All in all, a fantastically educational book, ripe for using in the classroom to support all sorts of grammar exercises, perfect for sharing at home to promote discussion about 'who we are' (see also,If I Could Be),  and a book I like to reach for anytime of the day (like a guaranteed 'pick-me-up') (but preferably with a cup of coffee in hand).   

If you like this book about childhood, you might also like this: Peepo

Not Now, Bernard

Author and Illustrator: David Mckee
Publisher: First published by Andersen Press Ltd, 1980. Featured edition published, Andersen Press Ltd, 2012 

Now here's a very dark book. It leaves me with a puzzled look. It takes a jab at parents, or a particular parenting style/ type, or is it taking a stance on children? (should they be 'seen and not heard'?)...and that's why I like this children's book, it's thought-provoking, and really designed as a cautionary tale to adults.

Economical with words, but telling a big story, Not Now, Bernard is about a little boy looking to attract the attention of his parents. He walks from dad to mum, interrupting / interacting as his parents get on with household jobs. Bernard has a knack of speaking to his parents just at crucial moments, so his dad, hammering a nail in the wall in order to put a picture up, bashes his thumb, his mum is watering a pot plant as the pot cracks and drips water over the table. Both parents dismiss Bernard and his mum ignores Bernard's observation that 'there's a monster in the garden.' 'Bernard went into the garden.'  Bernard is then eaten by the monster.

This dry humour then darkens further, as the monster enters the kitchen: the monster is ignored and dismissed by Bernard's mum. A lovely illustration shows the monster puzzled, looking directly at us (the reader). Bernard's father is reading a newspaper, his thumb now bandaged. The monster bites the leg of the father, and the chorus retort is again shouted, 'not now,  Bernard.'   Continuing to show no worry, interest, fear in the monster, Bernard's mother shouts Bernard (who of course is eaten by the monster) to tea. Tea is left in front of the the television (another moment of detachment / practical parenting, depending on your perspective...I expect the author intended the former here, but as a parent of four, I do have a little sympathy for the parents (sorry author David Mckee!). The monster (Bernard himself?) shows signs of being increasingly bored and angry alone in his room. Still ignoring the monster/ or oblivious unintentionally (?) Bernard's mother sends Bernard to bed (the monster obliges).

  

So this is a very intelligent children's book. it makes some interesting suggestions, comments, but leaves the interpretation and inference firmly with the reader (at least I think it does, I might be missing something?). Are Bernard's parents emotionally abusive? They ignore Bernard, he seeks their attention, they don't meet his emotional needs, yet mum has her pinafore on tending to all Bernard's physical needs (keeping home). Is Bernard the monster? His parents are 'genuinely' busy (though are they as the types of jobs they're doing aren't crucial), Bernard is being very needy, and has a vivid imagination (he can see monsters)- is he lying (again?). Does Bernard become the Monster, rather than being eaten by the monster? Is ignoring a 'monster-child' a good way to cope with a 'monster-child', not remarking on the anti-social behaviours? But then, why is Bernard a monster child in the first place?  These are just a few of the questions the book opens up. Its a psychology undergraduate's dream! Themes we could take from this book include, parent-child relationships (attachment theory/ bonding/ interaction), child psychology (imagination, pestering, boredom), neglect, abandonment, abuse, childhood, adulthood, family dynamics, transference... the list goes on.    

On a less analytical note maybe, Not Now, Bernard is a comedy. My children love the parents' voices growling, 'Not Now, Bernard' at their child (especially if you make mum's voice deep too). The unexpected works well to grab interest (in what other book does the main protagonist get eaten by a purple monster?) It's also humorous on the very principle that children don't necessarily 'read' an alternative ending. Tonight I suggested to Bert (age 5) that Bernard is the Monster.  'No', he said, earnestly, 'It said the monster ate him.' 'Bernard is dead forever.' (eek, and my child said that so matter-of-fact!)

Interestingly the book makes Bert feel quite uncomfortable, he's the sort of child that doesn't break rules and isn't 'a bit of the monster'. The book appeals hugely to Edie (age 3) who break lots of rules and loves hearing that others are 'naughty'. On the basis of it's invitation to put on funny voices and the bright, basic pictures, you could easily read this book to very young children (toddlers), but those children of six years and upward, can really start picking at the comprehension and nuances,and the contradictions in this book.

In terms of the humour, it reminds me very much of the macabre disappearance of the rabbit in I want my hat back by Jon Klassen (I wonder whether this story inspired Klassen's dark thoughts there).  

In all, the book feels very blunt, very short and very critical (of society, children, parenting), but I really enjoy that David Mckee has opened this debate, and applaud the fact he does this in a children's story. It is clever, undoubtedly clever.