Share!

Author: Anthea Simmons

Illustrator: Georgie Birkett

Publisher: Andersen Press Ltd, 2010

This is my favourite picture book for preparing children for gaining a sibling. It's sweet, heartwarming and leaves me with a wry smile- everyone's happy, content siblings sharing all- what a dream!

So the story is a real repetitive mantra; little girl (preschool looking) has a number of possessions she loves, including a teddy, book of animals, number puzzle and snugly blanket, for each item, 'baby wants it too', and the reply on each page is, 'share' says mummy, cue to turn the page, 'so I do.' Following every incident of sharing, the baby messes up the item, have bent it, having chewed it, having 'soaked' it  'right through'. Expressions on the faces of the child and baby constantly change, with the baby upset, wanting the possession, becoming content or appeased when he has the item in his hands. The girl whereas, looks intent on keeping her possession or sceptical at handing it over, then annoyed with the baby's response to the item.    

The mantra then adjusts, with the little girl taking mummy's command to share literally, sharing her 'favourite treat for teatime', jam waffle, with baby, who, oh dear, 'has no teeth to chew.' The resulting sharing incident now, backfires each time on mum, with baby getting soggy after pouring milk from 'the cow mug' on himself, and paint chaos ensuing from sharing the easel. the big sister has an impish smile of her face in this section, with baby looking eager. 

The story then takes a final (cute) twist, with the siblings clearly enjoying sharing a bath, and their bedtime routine, and with baby now instigating the agreement to share. In the closing pages of the book the siblings are now 'laughing, laughing, laughing' together, and agree to share their mummy. It's a very happy (sugary yes!)  ending; my children love it and I like the sentiment and appreciate the subtle humour here. 

We've read this book so many times (being a family where a new sibling has arrived consecutively every two years) that the mantra is unbelievably well-ingrained, that the book has reached legendary status in our house and is now simply referred to as 'the share book' and gets suggested by the children for a book at bedtime if we've had a day of troubles, 'oh, mum, Alf is being mean- I think we need to get the share book out!' (like its a key reminder, a cure for all ills). 'Share says mummy!' has become my stern warning, constant reply, sarcastic response to all manner of sibling squabbles, nearly always receiving the same humorous reply, the children echoing (rather begrudgingly, despairingly) the other side of the mantra, 'so I do!' I've bought this book for countless friends who have had second or third babies. It feels like a rite of passage; pregnant for a second time?...you need this book!   

Leading on from that, and being an adopter myself, there's nothing in here that wouldn't work for introducing adopted siblings to each other too. The 'baby' in the book is conveniently toddler-like rather than a babe in arms (echoing a likely scenario of modern day adoption regarding age of placement). The mum doesn't look suitably frazzled though, and seems to waltz in happily for a cuddle with her perfectly clean and sleepy children at the end- again this raises a dry smile with me.   

In all then, illustrations bright, bold, simple, clear and tell a full story in themselves; lovely lyrical text, with plenty of exclamatory vex- so very tongue in cheek. A really great book for helping to prepare a child for an impending sibling arrival, or thereafter for simply encouraging sharing, and seeing the positive outcomes of a sharing sibling union.    

If you like this book, you're also likely to enjoy: When I First Met You Blue Kangaroo

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.