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. 

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!

Norman the Slug with the Silly Shell

Author and illustrator: Sue Hendra

Publisher: Simon and Schuster, 2011

Norman the Slug with the Silly Shell makes an ideal one-off read-aloud to a preschool or reception class. It's laugh-out-loud funny on the first read, not quite so funny on subsequent reads as the 'big reveal' at the end is then anticipated. It's bright, bold graphics can be seen clearly from afar; a bit garish up close mind, especially as the icing and sprinkles on the doughnut motif is repeated throughout. 

I suppose any book that makes me sympathise with a slug is worth its salt (pun intended!), because as a gardener I can't bare these little critters. The concept of a slug being shunned by a group of snails for not having a shell, is amusing. Bullying, and being able to get back at the bullies is a theme here, as is expressing yourself, and doing things your own way, positive life affirming messages for little ones.  

I also like the juxtaposition that 'slug' in this book is not drab, dull, and seeking a dank dark place to live (as in reality) but is fun, enthusiastic, seeking thrill and colour- again, how endearing, and why earth am I on the side of the slug?!  The distinction between slug and snail isn't always quite so clear for little ones though, so a lot of the humour in this book goes over younger children's heads (though kids do tend to laugh when adults laugh, so the book still works). The adult aligned humour continues when Norman tries out different shells; a tennis ball, alarm clock, maggoty apple and then...a doughnut, all ending in eager and funny calamity.    

'Fitting in' is harder than Norman finds, as while the snails now except he is a snail, a bird then targets Norman's fantastic edible looking shell, and carries Norman and this shell away. Norman then relies on his old snail ways to rid himself of the bird slipping free of his shell by squirting out his slug slime. The message here is more 'be yourself', 'embrace who you', so again, thematically, some lovely ideas to bring to preschoolers.  Moments of peril, with Norman in the birds mouth and then falling through the sky, are quite gripping for the target 3-5 year old age range here. Again, the big reveal, of Norman wishing he now had wings (this is comedy genius!), and this flakiness in mood is of course very reminiscent of toddlers themselves, so there's humour galore in this short picture book.  

The illustrations let the book down a little, feeling a bit under-invested. Edie (3) is bothered by the re-occurrence of the red bird that she sees has previously had Norman in its beak, being back and close to Norman at the end. Little inconsequential illustrations like this make big difference to very inquisitive, processing children, so young child reception of this book was quite mixed in our house. 

All in all though, a fun read perfect for a big audience. 

If you like this, you might also like:   Meg's Castle by Helen Nicoll and Jan Pienkowski

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. 

The Quangle Wangle's Hat

Words by Edward Lear
Illustrations: Helen Oxenbury
Publisher: First Published by William Heinemann 1969. Featured edition Puffin Books, Picture Puffins Series, 1982.

Here's a treat from one children's literature fan to another, The Quangle Wangle's Hat by Edward Lear. 
Now I can't say my children share my passion for this book, though my daughter will choose this occasionally as she knows I like it, but on the whole, its bizarre and by that I mean more 'avant-garde' bizarre rather than bizarre funny: its delicious, a lovely read-aloud rhyme.

Written by Edward Lear, better known for composing The Owl and the Pussy-Cat, The Quangle Wangle has a similar dreamy lilting musicality. In this story the creature, a Quangle Wangle Quee (how lovely does that sound read aloud) lives alone in a tree. He wears a strange hat covered in ribbons, bells and buttons, and no one can see his face. One day some canaries stumble on the Quangle's tree, high on a hillside. The Quangle Wangle Quee welcomes them, and the canaries are soon followed by a whole band of creatures who keep the Quangle company forever more; a stork, duck, owl, snail, bumble-bee, frog, and then the excitement begins as the collection of creatures grow more elaborate, non-nonsensical and imaginary: the Fimble Fowl with corkscrew leg, Golden Grouse, the Pobble (with no toes), the small Olympian Bear, the Dong (with a luminous nose), and 'the Blue baboon, who played the flute, And the Orient Calf from the Land of Tute.'   

Accompanied by Helen Oxenbury's delicate, detail-rich illustrations this book is a joy on the eyes and ears. Its a very 'busy' story, character full, ending with dance and music as the creatures live in harmony all on the tree together. It's somewhat hallucinogenic feeling, with the now unfamilar dated pastel colour palette (on the 1980s print era), the multi-coloured made-up animals dancing on disc-like leaves, and as such I would avoid reading this book with the first strong coffee of the morning, as you'll need your composure. 

This version of The Quangle Wangle's Hat reminds me very much of my 2010 edition of Where the Wild Things Are (Maurice Sendak, originally written and illustrated in 1963), particularly the scene where the loud trumpeting creatures prance around merrymaking. I wouldn't be surprised if inspiration had been taken cross textually by both writers and illustrators involved in these two works at some point in time.  

In terms of themes, The Quangle Wangle's Hat is probably one of the most innocent and light-hearted of stories I have come across in Children's Literature so far (and thus differs hugely from the very dark, Where the Wild Things Are). The Quangle Wangle is about coming together, embracing individuality (and bizarre-ness), hoping for company and wanting to be accepted, and becoming part of things, or even being at the centre of that coming together. This is interesting, given that the Quangle is the ultimate in reclusive, he's 'different', a sort of tree hermit, covering his face (or having his face covered?). Another thought would be that the Quangle is also welcoming, and appears to have power or possession, or at least be a gate keeper to the big Crumpetty tree where all the creatures seek to live. Politically then, The Quangle might stand as a guardian of nature or some kind of religious or cult guru, a wise man or leader maybe. 

All in all, this book feels psychedelic and pushes hard at the unexpected; it is a convention- defying book (and in my experience children feel very uncomfortable (initially)with this lack of convention at least on the first few reads). While as an adult it feels uplifting and optimistic, the themes here go astray with children, and on reading this Edie complains, 'but where is the Pobble from?' 'what is a Fimble Fowl', searching for some logic. And of course, as not to disappoint, you end up filling in the blanks, 'well the Pobble had a big belly, short legs...', which is I expect, exactly what poet Edward Lear intended.   

Betty goes bananas in her pyjamas

Author and Illustrator: Steve Antony
Publisher: Oxford University Press, 2015

Voices, is what we say about this book, really fun to read-out-aloud voices.  
Toddler ape Betty is resistant to bedtime, and, like many an ape before her, she borders on the edge of extreme meltdown distracting herself and procrastinating at the same time with any toy that comes to hand. And my my is she active, wanting to play instruments, paint on her easel, and play with all manner of transportation device, anything but go to bed. 
Meanwhile, poor tired looking Mr Toucan (Toucan? Yes, we were baffled at first, but then this strangely makes sense alongside toddler-gorilla-in-pyjamas), Mr Toucan manages to keep very calm and in a soothing (if slightly wearisome voice), he convinces Betty to go to bed. Until one final amusing calamity, as Betty's toys burst back out the cupboard and she once again looks (very) awake. Doh!

This book succeeds where many don't attempt to go, hitting at the stormy waters of the 2-4 year old age range. At 2 and a half years old Edie (now 3) turned ape every night demanding this book was read before she'd get in her bed...oh the irony! The comic timing, as Mr Toucan finally looses his rag with Betty, then returning his composure by summoning his inner super nanny, is genius. The very keep-calm-and-get-them-to-bed of Mr Toucan resonates brilliantly, and my wry smile increases every time I read Steve Antony's dedication at the end of the book 'To Mum, the best storyteller ever, and all other toucans.'

Main character Betty, is probably one of my favourite of all fictional characters. Her expression-filled face says it all, you almost don't need to 'read' this book, as little ones can certainly follow the gist of how Betty feels from the illustrations alone (excited, elated, engrossed, sleepy, wired). The voice of Betty, for us, is this monosyllabic butch ('Little Britain' style) man voice. Our children roll about in fits of hysterics when we read this book, especially if we have Mr Toucan's voice the same as our own 'get to bed' voice ( and roll our eyes and sigh at the same time). At 5 (Bert) and 7 (Alf) the older boys still like this book, but mainly reading it and imitating 'the voices' for the younger two. There's a good amount of repetition in the story, so again, really perfect for the 2 year olds, and there's plenty of bright colours and inanimate objects in the illustrations such as lorry, teddy, drum, that the little ones enjoy spotting/recognising/naming/pointing at. There's also lots of little quirks I enjoy about the book; Betty's romper suit has a banana print, there's letter blocks scattered about 
on each page which cover the whole alphabet from start to finish, there's no hint of a gender stereotype- Betty plays with her bananas lorry and pink open top car. 
We love this book- big thumbs up for Betty and her weary toucan parent /carer. 

Here's a link to The BookTrust's review and e-card request for this book as we love it so: BookTrust - Betty Goes Bananas  

Peepo!

Author: Alan Ahlberg
Illustrator: Janet Ahlberg
Publisher: First published by Viking 1981, published in Puffin Books 1983, Published in the edition featured 2004

It's National Storytelling Week and I'm all excited as I'm about to go into Edie (3) and George (1)'s nursery to read to the children.  Now I know I only posted a book from The Ahlberg writing duo last week, but as 'Peepo' is one of my favourite books of all time, and will join in on my nursery reading adventure, it felt only just to feature it tonight.
I should make a disclaimer that 'Peepo' entered our house as a gift on the arrival of my second son, so it's tied up in a real personal joy for me, and despite myself I always feel teary when I read this book.
I think that beyond the personal sentiment the book brings a tear to my eye because it captures an era so beautifully, so wisely, that no other film nor book set in this wartime period does so well. This is the life of a baby, seen through the eyes of that baby (emphasised by the cut out 'vision circles' on every other page). This baby perceives itself as surrounded by family, two sisters, mum and dad and gran. This is kitchen-sink life on the homefront during the Second World War, not the more familiar depiction we associate with these times of trench warfare, battle, Blitz aftermath. For the baby it's an unremarkable time, just life, normal, everyday. The baby notices the little, incidental things like 'the hairnet his mother wears in bed', his 'sister squabbling, She wants him on her knee,' the 'tassel's on his grandma's shawl', 'his ball and his teddy'. In every illustration in this book there's a detailed 
plethora, an archive of artefacts from the time. This book is a feast of nostalgia, a catalogue
of urban life in the family during the war, and strangely, as a child on the 1980s I remember 
so much of the furniture, the household products, the items of that time, as my own postwar baby boom parents had inherited 'this stuff', these ways, this look. I remember my own great grandmother, the very image of this shawl clad, hat pin wearing grandma in Peepo. 

Now the problem for my four, all they hear me say when I read this book is, 'look, mummy 
had a bed like that when she was little', 'mummy had a coal shed and outside loo like that in 
her house when she was a girl' (disclaimer: I grew up in a rural cottage so not all 1980s born parents will think like me on this one!) The children used to do well to listen to my ramblings fairly attentively, I think it was white noise to them really, they were too bewildered by the very busy detailed pictures, trying to spy the tiny 'incidental' (in the baby's eyes) image of the war planes on the 'park outing' page, but recently 7 year old Alf has started groaning, 'not this book that's all about you again !'... Fair point! 


So why recommend this as a read and bring this one into a children's nursery?  Because it 
works on so many levels: this book is fun (our 1 year old just hear's the repetition of the word 'Peepo!' , it's moving (OK, more so for adults), it's educational (a history lesson in every sitting*), and the rhythm, cadences and rhyme in this book- sublime. It's lilting, song-like language; I find it so easy to read aloud and share with children. I think I'll always be so grateful that this book entered my life, the least I can do is pass it on. 

*Bert (5) informs me that his class looked at the following page of Peepo this week to look at 'things in a kitchen', I was surprised myself by how much he identified, so how much of our lives are therefore the same and not so distant from this time.