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.

First Greek Myths - Jason and The Golden Fleece

Author: Saviour Pirotta
Illustrator: Jan Lewis
Publisher: Orchard Books, Hachette Children's Books, 2009

I've been excited about reviewing this book for a while, or more so, Pirotta's First Greek Myth series from Orchard Books. These books were the first books Alf (3 years old at the time, but 7 now) requested we borrow again from the library (music to my ears). These were also the first books I found Alf trying to read himself, unprovoked (again, a really special moment for a mum bookblogger). As part of the Orchard Colour Crunchies series these books are intended as 'early readers' but personally I think they need a shout-out as possibly the best books for emerging g independent readers, they're exciting, the perfect length, great illustrations (fascinating, maybe a tad scary, but that's part of the appeal), and full of the essence of adventure: fights, swords, monsters to defeat, voyages, magic, wishes made, promises broken. I'm a fan, and testimony to the longevity of this series, when I left the featured title on the sofa last night, ready to review, Alf picked it up and said, 'ah great! I love these books! Can you read this to me now?' (Recommended reading from 3 years to 7, and upwards and counting then!)

Interestingly, and as a nod to promoting more female leads in children's literature I like to think, in Jason and The Golden Fleece, Pirotta frames the main character not as Jason but Princess Medea, who is introduced first, and whom gets the final exposition on the closing page of the book. This is refreshing, especially as a rewrite of the male-hero binary that normally dominates adaptations of the Greek Myths. Medea is even portrayed as superhero-like with the text declaring, 'At last the powerful princess was free' supported by a picture of Medea looking majestic, with hands held aloft. My three year old daughter approves, and like her brothers, requests this title specifically.  

It's worth saying that each book in the First Myths series starts with a 'cast list' displaying two of the key characters in the book, and how to pronounce their names phonetically. Again this is useful for emergent readers, and for reading adults alike as some of the Greek names are impossible sounding in appearance to say on first reading.  

As the story of Jason and The Golden Fleece is so well known I won't linger on the narrative, only to say that in this version, unlike other children's versions of this myth I've read,  Medea is instrumental in every aspect of Jason winning the Golden Fleece (how postfeminist!)Though this empowered portrayal of women doesn't always transcend in this series: in Theseus and The Man-Eating Monster, for example, poor Ariadne is tricked and left on a desert island by Theseus (in other versions she returns on the boat with Theseus (and reminds him to put the white sail up, which prevents Theseus's father from killing himself). Personally, while it's great to see a positive, strong female characterisation in Medea, I also like the darker interpretation of the Myths. The Greek Myths themselves should be essential reading for any child, they're captivating, and the cornerstone of modern narrative conventions (or so I've read before). 

Beyond being perfectly concise and full of well chosen 'early reader' appropriate vocabulary,  I also like these books for the illustrations, particularly the many head shots with expressions told in the eyes. My eldest son really dislikes drawing, but the cartoon-like nature of the humans in this book inspired his attempt at a potrait based on one of the head shots. The illustrations are simplistic, bright and effective, with the layout of each page uncluttered, and so consecutive reading passages are easily signpost. 

In all then, these are exhilarating short reads. I'm so grateful to my local library for stocking these and in so doing, introducing me and my children to this fantastic series. I think they'd be perfect for supplementing reading in school libraries for KS1.  
If you like the representation of strong female leads in children's literature mentioned here, you might also like: Princess Smartypants by Babette Cole

Here are all the titles in the series (I bought them all as I had to stop borrowing them again and again from the library):

And thanks to starting out on these really simple condensed versions of the Greek Myths, Alf (7) now loves the 1963 Ray HarryHausen Columbia Pictures production of 'Jason and The Argonauts'. This film is a great way to support the reading, and vice versa.

Watch exerts from the film here: Jason and the Argonauts (1963)

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.