The Pig's Knickers

Author: Jonathan Emmett
Illustrator: Vanessa Cabban
Publisher: Walker Books Ltd, London, 2010

This is a fantastic, cheeky, witty children's book, written as much for the kids as their reading adult. The protagonist, pig, is possibly my favourite preschool book character of all time; theatrical, flamboyant, camp, outlandish. The book starts with a fairly forlorn pig 'feeling sorry for himself' bored with the way he looks, sat in the troth by his pig style on Hilltop Farm. (Appearance angst in a children's book, how modern!) A pair of knickers then blows from the farm washing line on to the head of pig. After working out how to wear the knickers a delighted pig begins his excited escapade around the farmyard, dancing, cartwheeling, and strutting around in his knickers and new found self confidence. Along the way pig meets several farmyard friends, inviting each to comment on his knickers. Each animal makes a dry comment about what they see, and pig eventually beds down for the night with the knickers airing on the fence. An unexpected twist in the morning sees the knickers gone, and a distraught pig is then comforted and reassured by his friends that with or without knickers it is he who is 'special' not the red polka dot knickers alone. 

This fabulous 'clothes don't maketh the man', 'beauty is not skin deep' moral for young children is superbly placed in this self conscious age, as is having a trans dressing pig lead. The story is fresh and welcome at a time when dialogues on identity, sexuality, gender are thankfully opening up. While the humour in the story is technically about the lead character, outlandish pig, he's a lovable character, emotional, and rallied round by his friends. The book is thus as much about friendship, liking people for who they are not how they look, as my more adult interpretation of identity. Acceptance and friendship are of course very useful not to mention computable messages for children of preschool age. 

The neat, water colour and pen illustrations in the book match the 'beauty is not skin deep' message in the story well, with pig characterised as bulbous. The soft colours and whispy farm yard animals give the book an aesthetic of ordinariness (as a children's book) but the story is anything but. There's a fantastic eyebrow raising final joke in the story, that in my experience of reading this aloud, children rarely get; I like the book all the more for this moment. This is a joy of a book to read aloud, but pig deserves a really theatrical performance, so please do him good justice. 

Edwina the Emu

Author: Sheena Knowles
Illustrator: Rod Clement
Publisher: Angus Robertson, an imprint of HarperCollinsPublishers, 1996

I was passed this book on a bookstall at a school fayre; 'here'said the bookstall mum, 'you'll like this one, it's about a feminist emu, and it's pretty funny'. And she was right, it's really funny, Australian dry humour funny, and a 'feminist emu', why of course!
With loud, brash and garish illustrations, we meet Edwina and Edward, emus in love and expecting a brood of ten. On realising the news Edward shouts, 'YEEK!' and so starts the catchphrase of the book: 'he seemed to be choking, 'Ten litttle emus? you've got to be joking.' being the more collected of the pair, Edwina offers to leave the nest and go and seek work, in order to afford the brood. Edwina tries several jobs, as a ballerina, a chimney sweep and as a waitress. As each ends in an emu related drama, Edwina realises her calling is to sit on the nest (part time only, in a job share with Edward!)  I love this portrayal of a strong, independent thinking, progressive female, and the turn the story takes without compromising the central protagonist's empowerment. 

The bawdy carictures of other job seekers fit well with the laugh-out-loud storyline, an emu being equal to man in a queue at the bus stop, for example. The text is fun also, with simple rhyming couplets ( Some times the rhyme itself is a little over worked and tenuous, but again, this adds to the amusement!) The book looks and feels very Australian, with this loud swaggering humour and moments of irony, such as Edwina gettting a job as a chimney sweep and using her body to sweep the the whole chimney. 

My daughter dislikes Rod Clements' use of starring, googly and bloodshot eyes, which do, I think, put young people off the book. The faces of shock in the book, just aren't the more refined British interpretation of 'shocked face', they're too confrontational. The messages in the book are, however, hugely welcome, insighting a positive sense of womanhood, and promoting shared roles and duties as parents. I like that when Edwina returns to the nest, partner Edward is exhausted; a commment on the stresses of running a home for either gender. 
All in all, an uplifting read, embracing working women and equality in relationships.

Love Monster

Author and Illustrator: Rachel Bright
Publisher: HarperCollins Children's Books, 2012

You can't help but smile as you read Love Monster; it has wit and charm in equal measure, and dips in and out of first, second and third person, addressing and positioning the audience in a way that feels quiet original and fun for this age children's lit. 
My daughter (3) certainly likes the directed sympathy for poor 'funny-looking' monster, with 'This is a monster' (hello, monster) leading her to wave frantically at the page as the book opens. 
The book has a sardonic narrative, a monster (incidentally very cute looking itself in illustration, with teddy under his arm), finding it hard to fit in within a 'world of cute, fluffy things.' Monster has had enough of being shunned so decides to 'set out and find someone who'll love him, just the way he was.' Unravelling then, as a classic British underdog story for preschoolers, monster endures a tough and fruitless journey on the search for this true love. Just as he gives up, as the well known narrative goes, when life has beaten him down so low, monster finds his love, 'just when he was least expecting. ' 

The book is funny on many levels, from the serendipitous twist in the storyline, to the inconsequential moments in the illustrations, pencil behind monster's ear, all very clever. The hyperbolic cartoon-like incidents, such as the rain cloud exacting over monster's head, monster's downcast eyes and list of crossed off preposition orientated places to search for love, 'high, low, middleish' etc, make this a real chuckling treat to read as a parent. Children seem to cope with the more abstract or knowledge dependent humour in the book quite well, so for example, my daughter understands that the monster mistakes a new person for a costume in shop, his shadow and his reflection in the water, quite readily. She's less au fair with the tongue-in-cheek names for places, such as 'Cutesville', and so some aspects of the book are going over her head (but there's no harm in this, they're just adult jokes, parent pleasers). 

Stylistically, funky typefont used, simple illustrations, big brassy backgrounds, even some filmic conventions, such as the close up of monster searching the letterbox in a classic body fragmentation shot...very funny for us film buffs. Simple storytelling voice and plenty of colloquial, so for example, 'having lost all his umpf', which makes the book very endearing and pleasurable, amusing to read. 
All in all, a lovely, fun, uplifting book for bedtime.

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

George and The Dragon

George and The Dragon

Author and Illustrator: Chris Wormell

Publisher: Red Fox, Random House Children's Books, 2003

Here's a picture book that stylistically throws testimony to the adage 'less is more'. Generous double page spreads throughout, very little written text, illustrations cast in a simple reddish, brown, purple hue; it feels unusual, it's preserve, endearing.

It's high time I took this book back to the library, but the children are stuck between the binary of frightened and enchanted by this one, so it's remained a stalwart of the bedtime read this week. Fans of fantasy will love this for their children; the rich red illustrations of the immense elongated hulk of the 'mighty' fire breathing dragon remind me of David Day's illustrations of Tolkien's bestiary. With two thirds of the spread devoted on each page to the picture (always in landscape profile), the story takes a comfortable slow, pace feeling nicely controlled. What's also nice about the illustrations is the room dedicated to 'scenery', so the epic mountainous skyline on one spread, the craggy rocks and backdrop of the cave in another. This sets the scene so nicely, and also supports the message of the narrative, in that everything is relative in size- 'small can be big'.  

In terms of the plot, we meet a terrifying dragon who can 'fly higher than clouds and faster than birds'. He's shown battling an army of knights, burning down a village and carrying off a princess. The depiction of the dragon's thin, worm-like body, smoking nostrils and huge claws really contrast the contemporary (tame) rotund bodies of modern children's dragon illustrations (such as Zog by Julia Donaldson and Axel Scheffler, and The Trouble with Dragons by Debi Gilori).  There's something truly original and in so, frightening about this dragon.  

The story is initially set up as dark and scary, with the dragon appearing unbeatable and huge against the mini-scale hopeless figures of the knights (whom he could 'brush away' 'with 'a sweep of his monstrous wing'), and the protesting captured princess. the text then alludes to the dragon harbouring a secret fear, his Achilles heel, which humorously turns out to be a fear of mice. The way this plot turn is introduced, in terms of children's literature, is interesting, very dry in humour here, with the cave entrance littered in a macabre way with skulls and bones and then a mouse, turned away, reading a property sign reading ' sold' at the mouth of the neighbouring cave.  At this point the written text doesn't quite flow as well, introducing the idea that George the mouse seeks sugar for his cup of tea (how British. or should that be 'English' given the context- George and the Dragon').        

At this bizarre turn the narrative unfolds and ends speedily; the dragon, petrified, now flees, and the mouse, a hero, is treated to a feast by the princess. The story then closes with the mouse in residence in a 'cosy little hole in the castle wall' underneath a 'beware of the mouse' warning sign; the dragon, alarmed, cowers behind a mountain. In few words and vast illustrations then, Wormell easily conveys the message not to judge or anticipate on appearance alone.

This is a really delightful, moral, and learned children's picture book then. It's a masterclass in captivating a very young audience; this book being well received by ages 1, 3, 5 and 7 in my house.    

Diary of a Wimpy Kid - The Long Haul

Author and Illustrator: Jeff Kinney

Publisher: Penguin Random House, 2015

Talk about an exercise in 'how to bond with your boys': I'd just finished reading The Lion, The Witch and The Wardrobe as a bedtime read with Alf (7) and Bert (5) and was looking for a 'filler' before starting another heavy novel. Alf suggested The Long Haul; he's read most of The Wimpy Kid series, is obsessed with watching The Wimpy Kid films and 

emulates the older brother in the series, Rodderick (not the greatest literary role model, but I see the appeal in wanting to be the cool older brother). The boys' eyes lit up when I agreed, and in hindsight, I think it's been really beneficial to model fluent reading of these books, as while Alf is a good reader for his age, these books, in my opinion move fast, have a lot of contemporary references and words, so require very competent level of indendent reading to read well, to follow well. Moreover, letting my son lead this, letting him share one of his favourite authors with me, made for great role reversal, and was illuminating- so this is what he finds funny, best of all, I found it hilarious, so funny, laugh -out- loud funny, that the boys grew quite fed up of me repeating extracts to my husband the following day or pausing for breath in between giggles. 

To be precise, the first part of The Long Haul is laugh-out-loud, it flags a bit once the family, who are taking a road trip as a part of mum's aspiration for family, and are repeatedly interacting with another family (I lost the gist a bit here, it turns quite slapstick). As a writer, Jeff Kinney reminds me of Matt Groening of Simpson's fame, offering the right mix of joke aimed at young boys (plenty of toilet humour, jokes about hairy bodies, junk food, mishaps) and jokes aimed at parent introspection (the mum sees life in 'learning opportunities' for her boys, playing them a Spainish language CD in the car, the dad, seeking to reclaim personal joy beyond 'the family' buys himself a boat and pays the humourous consequences). 

Written through the eyes of 'Wimpy Kid' Greg Heffley,this character's self reflections are drole, astute and full of contemporary social references (the books are undoubtedly written in American English, so occasionally takes a bit of explaining, e.g. 'Car lot' as 'car park) . There's a self deprecating storyline, in that Jeff is weedy and actively avoids trouble, while his older brother Rodderick is cock-sure and arrogant, and his younger brother, a toddler, Manny, is mollycoddled and intent. The road trip is chaotic and full of funny despairing moments when things go wrong, such as winning a pig at the farm show, the motel not having adequate sleeping arrangements, the 'hot tub' being taken by one whole family, and all the the while Greg is the one most effected by the mishap. For my boys, there seemed to be a real identification with Greg, 'the put upon' child despairing of the well intentioned efforts of his parents. As a parent, I certainly identified with the mum character, reading 'Family Frolic' magazine to better inform herself on good parenting practice. The Long Haul then, insightful hyperbole on modern family life (albeit American, and a quick, comic like, fun read to share between generations.

Mog and The Baby

Mog and The Baby
Author and Illustrator: Judith Kerr
Publisher: First published by William Collins Sons & Co in 1980, edition featured published by HarperCollins Children's Books, 2005

By far my favourite Judith Kerr book, and a twist on the 'Mog's mishaps' narrative, in that this time, it's not Mog but a human baby causing all the misadventure. The book starts quietly, with Nicky (the Thomas family's youngest) off school with a cold playing contently with family pet, the tabby cat, Mog. The day is then interrupted with the arrival of Mrs Clutterbuck and her red, screaming baby whom mum of the household, Mrs Thomas, has agreed to look after while Mrs Clutterbuck goes shopping. The excuse as to why the baby is left with the Thomas family certainly didn't wash with Bert (5), who suggested that the baby might fall asleep in the trolley; neighbourly common practice in the 1980s when the book was first written, clearly not such an occurrence in our house today.     

Now for the real humour, and certainly a more upbeat, cheeky contribution to the, at times, very dark, Mog series: Mrs Clutterbuck's baby takes a real shine to Mog, Mog is much less keen on the baby. There's some fantastic illustrations in the book of the toddling, grabby-handed baby pounding their way toward Mog; Mog's reactions are comedic, big eyes, narrow eyes, disdain- very funny. The whole book in fact, tells the story exceptionally well, in just the illustrations, so an ideal story for very young children (2+ years).  

As is convention in the Mog series, Judith Kerr uses repetition, short stanza and echo-back here, stressing a piece of dialogue or more commonly one of Mog's (usually quite misguided) ideas (for example, the famous line, 'Mog had a dream. It was a lovely dream. It was a dream about babies.' In this book, echo back is used to stress sections of dialogue, with Mrs Clutterback asking, 'Will my baby be alright with your cat?' and Mrs Thomas constantly reassuring everyone 'oh yes, Mog loves babies.'  The joke, of course, is that the reader sees the illustration of Mog looking grumpy and certainly not like she 'loves babies.' This is clearly unrequited love on the part of the baby.  

The humour continues as the baby insists on interaction with Mog. From having a big chubby arm round Mog, we then see the baby and Mog out and about, in prams - Mog in a bonnet, the baby looking-on eagerly, lovingly. 

 As per the other Mog Collection books, things go from bad to worse for Mog, with the baby eating Mog's food (and we know from previous books, food gets Mog where it hurts!)

Then chaos really ensues when the baby starts to cry. Cue another repetitious phrase in the book, with the baby saying 'Psss, Psss, Psss' in order to demand the attention of Mog, and this is followed by the usual dream-kittens sequence, so iconic of the series. 

What happens next can be initially quite frightening for children; Mog has had enough and escapes away from the baby out of a window, the baby follows. Taken as a warning that appropriates road safety, this is a highly dramatic, suspense filled moment in the book, that my children love. The Thomas' car hurtling toward baby and Mog (who, like in Mog the Forgetful Cat, gets frightened of a neighbouring dog and so runs, but just as with that book, ends up being the real hero, having this time pushed the baby away).  What a fantastically satisfying hero-and-reward ending  (just like the original). 

With all the similarities and repetitious lines of the first books in the series, this edition still really holds its own, with these lovely meaningful expressions on Mog's face, an 'in' joke with the audience and a treat for fans and those new to the books alike. This book is so simple, and yet such a delight to read-aloud. Mrs Clutterbuck, to me, is read in a loud, bossy Miranda Hart style way, becoming hysterical.  Mrs Thomas is an exasperated voice, but putting on a brave face. Nicky, as in all the Mog stories, is siding with Mog, and grumbling on her behalf: 'Look what it's done.' There's less retell of Mog's thoughts in this one, but instead the expressions say much more. 

In all then, a really funny contribution to the classic Mog series, and with really hard-hitting newer contributions to the series, such as 'Goodnight Mog' (spoiler alert* Mog dies!), this book makes a welcome balance to the collection, offering such light, amusing relief.  Mog at her best!

If you like this book, you might also like: This Is The Bear by by Sarah Hayes and Helen Craig

Also, my children absolutely loved this video at Christmas, a familiar and lovable feline hero getting into lots of extreme festive mishaps: Sainsbury’s OFFICIAL Christmas Advert 2015 – Mog’s Christmas Calamity  Enjoy!

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

The Worst Princess

Author: Anna Kemp

Illustrator: Sara Ogilvie

Publisher: Simon and Schuster, 2012

The Worst Princess is a fun, empowering story and recommended reading for any 3-6 year old girl (and boy for that matter), to help balance out (stamp out!) some of that societal saturation of Disney Princess Syndrome.  

In terms of themes and plot, this book sits like a hybrid between Princess Smartypants  (Babette Cole, 1996) and Zog (Donaldson & Scheffler, 2010). Princess Sue has read all the books on princessly behaviour and attitudes, and she is sat in her tower dutifully (but grumpily) awaiting her prince saviour. When the prince finally arrives (and note, he is so inconsequential, he doesn't even get a name) princess Sue is alarmed to find he expects a conventional princess and takes her to his tower. Enjoying her new-found freedom Sue is angry and searches the skies for an escape plan. She is clever and fearless and on seeing a dragon, she beckons him over. they share a cup of tea and agree to pair up to rid themselves of 'the pesky prince.' The story doesn't end with a disappointing patriarchal nosedive, having an equally kick-ass ending with the princess and dragon causing mischief for 'royal twits and naughty knights'  for ever more, and living happily ever after. 

What I really like about this book is that the post-feminist princess rhetoric is consistent throughout. Unlike Princess Smartypants, which subverts the princess fairy-tale genre alongside plenty of pastel and pink shades, The Worst Princess is loud, proud and indignant with lots of bright purple and orange, pointy, rough-edged illustrations. At times the prose is bawdy ('twit, royal bum, stupid castle') , and there's a satirical use of ye-olde English font in parts. My Son, Bert, aged 5, likes that the princess scowls, plays with a yo-yo and wears yellow baseball boots (he notices these things!).   

The book has plenty of humour, and laugh-out loud moments at that. Edie (3) loves the part where the princessly shorts are set on fire, and I like the more dry (adult-pitched) jokes about flying 'Dragon -Air', the dragon sniffing nasal spray and the prince putting on a bossy parent voice by referring to Sue as Susan. 
The Worst Princess is refreshing and brash. Its a very welcome addition to our bookshelf, and sits proud and loud alongside all the cutesy, squeaky clean nonsense my daughter also, sadly, likes.  

Princess Smartypants

Author and Illustrator: Babette Cole
Publisher: First published by Hamish Hamilton 1986, Published by Puffin Books 1996

I learnt today that one of my favourite children's authors of all time has sadly passed away: Babette Cole - https://www.theguardian.com/books/2017/jan/16/babette-cole-obituary.

If I could turn back time I would have not only written this particular post earlier, but I would have written to Babette Cole personally to say how amazingly influential her book, Princess Smartypants, was in my life. Thanks to this heavyweight of a feminist, nay, post-feminist piece of children's literature, I decided that, like Princess Smartpants, I would become a 'Ms' (and so I did, from the grand old age of seven) and so I remain a 'Ms' today. Well actually that's not entirely true as really I'm now titled ' Dr', but nonetheless, the feminism remains. 

This was also the very first book I bought for my daughter. It felt like a rite of passage, passing this little piece of inspiration on. It was a special moment, reading 'Princess Smartypants' to Edie for the first time, with its empowering storyline about a kick-ass princess who remains staunchly unmarried. In fact it was truly refreshing, getting away from the constant rhetoric of 'needy princess' stories that so fill our bookshop shelves and children's libraries. And it was even more refreshing to read this fantastic book to my sons, watching their bemused faces as Princess Smartypants out-smarts all her male suitors and lives happily ever after, raising her cocktail  glass aloft. 

What I especially love about this book are the post feminist references, intentional or otherwise (Babette Cole was truly before her time, this book was first published in 1986, which makes it really bold and brave). Princess SmartyPants is pretty, she lies around in a bikini, and also wears leathers, rides a motorbike and wears dungarees. Bright pink and inflections of yellow throughout this book signpost this as 'girly' but it subverts the expectations of gender brilliantly, deliberately. I love that Princess Smartypants has a stream of really hopeless and pathetic male suitors all named appropriately humourous things such as Prince Vertigo ( who can't climb Princess Smartypants' glass tower in order to rescue her) and Prince Boneshaker ( who looks petrified on the back of Princess Smartypants' motorbike). Here's Prince Pelvis being out danced at the roller disco marathon:

These are of course little adult quips, and went way over the head of my children but as I've learnt over the years, pleasing the parent reader is almost as important as winning over the children when it comes to staking out a realm in British children's literature; and Babette Cole's 'Princess Smartypants' does this so well. Even the threat of being hitched to the slimy Prince Swashbuckle is diverted just in time, when the traditional fairytale is flipped right over and Princess Smartypants turns the gloating Prince Swashbuckle into a 'gigantic warty toad' with one fateful princessy kiss.  If only I, like many children of the 1980s, had returned to Babette Cole's work sooner, and thanked her. RIP Babette Cole.

I WANT MY HAT BACK

Author and illustrator: Jon Klassen 
Publisher: Walker Books, 2011

If anything, this book is an education in effective use of capitalisation as a way 'to shout'. Jon Klassen's work is dead pan dry, I always find myself reading this with my eyebrows raised. It's the story of a bear looking for a missing hat, only he's oblivious to the fact he's seen the thief of the hat, wearing the hat and clearly lying. He then lies himself to conceal his own wrongdoing. 
The story and punch line work much better if each character is read with a funny accent, so the snake in our version has a lisp, the bear is bumbling, slow and has a low deep voice. Read the rabbit in a quick high pitched voice, and the story becomes much funnier. 
The book is very repetitive and simple, so seems at first aimed at very young children ( the under 3s). However, the twist in the story ( the rabbit gets eaten!), is black comedy and so is lost of 3.5 year old Eddie. At 5 and 7 however, her brothers find the story side splittiingly funny and request it is read twice in every sitting. Jon Klassen has managed to produce a very different type of children's book here, it's drole and yet simple, economic with words but generous in fun and humour. We really love this one. 

Here's a fantastic reading of this book I've found, read by George Del Barrio:
I Want My Hat Back from The Vanderbilt Republic on Vimeo.

Charlie and Lola: But excuse ME THAT is my book

Based on the original Charlie and Lola stories, characters by Lauren Child
Text based on script written by Bridget Hurst and Carole Noble
Illustrations from the TV animation produced by Tiger Aspect
Puffin Books, 2013 edition 

I think this book might have originally come home via school as part of a www.booktime.org.uk initiative. Although this book grates on you as a parent if you read it too much, as the stubborn Lola wanting -to-borrow-her-favourite-book-from-the -library tantrum is a bit longwinded, it is a good book to pre-empt any preschooler's trip to the library. The book reminds us what it's like in the library, in that we should be quiet, and also reminds us that borrowing all manner of books on all manner of subjects is a possibility. The usual Charlie and Lola 'innocence of a child' humour is there, with Lola proclaiming her undying love for the book 'Beetles, Bugs and Butterflies' only to very quickly change her mind in favour of 'Cheetahs and Chimpanzees' . The characteristic different size and angled text compositions on each page are there, making this a nice book for those learning to read to follow with their finger. The usual vibrant multi layer graphics are there also, making this very much a ' Charlie and Lola' book, but with the added disclaimer that yes, Lola is just that bit more irritating rather than 'sweet' compared to normal. 

This is a good book, and useful as a precursor to a library trip but not essential for the home bookcase.