In a recent New Yorker article titled "Grim Fairy Tales," Adam Gopnik made a case for the lack of enlightenment in the nature of children's books today - "though we piously say that children's literature ought to be as various as any other kind of literature, the fact is that we want the same story again and again . . . resourcefulness, unburdened by knowledge . . ." and specifically characters that conquer unknown worlds.
Gopnik has classified the books for young readers into four categories: The Unbearably Pious (those that show what a mess American history really is, and what a gang of lowlifes most famous Americans have been), the Unthinkably Gross (these are about the repulsive slugs and "Valentine chocolates filled with nose drippings" with mutilations and mass burials), the Unashamedly Packaged (the books - probably classics of dead celebrities) and the Unbelievably Depressing (where gloom and doom reign with funerals and murder).I probably agree with some of his classifications, although I wouldn't necessarily have used these candid terms. But it's true. Children's books come in all kinds of packages - covers that are shocking, text that is poorly written and topics that fill even my heart with terror.
I would like to add one more to the Gopnik list, though. These are books that are written by "would-be" authors, sometimes famous musicians, artists or sports figures, who think that the children's market is an open forum for their work of pride. So many of these are extraordinarily bad. That's the only way to put it. Just because a singer has sold 15 gold albums, his/her book for children isn't necessarily good. And it often isn't.
Unfortunately, such books sell. The buyer recognizes the name and buys it, thinking it is another "gold album." Not always true!
A simple rule exists: Chil-dren want books of action and worth. And they want those elements time and time again.
I've often lambasted some of these "celebrity pride" books, the sweetness and gloss that sticks in your throat. People like Jamie Lee Curtis and Dolly Parton really ought to stick to their other jobs and leave children's books to those who understand what children need.
But sometimes I find a book or two that nearly meet the standard of an acceptable children's book and are written by a celebrity. Please note that the titles here are not "prize winners," but they are worthy reads and might entertain. Also, according to the terms that Gopnik used, none of these is pious, grossly depressing or unbelievably packaged.
THE FRIENDLY SNOWFLAKE: A FABLE OF FAITH, LOVE AND FAMILY by M. Scott Peck, M.D., illustrated by Christopher Scott Peck.
This is one I jumped on immediately. Even the title sounded maudlin and didactic. But when the text advocated the spiritual education of children by first loving them and next, reading to them, I took a second look and found it tolerable. The "fable" is about snowflakes and water, their differences and similarities, and has a moral that could be eased into in a family discussion. The text is long, and I recommend it for children 8 and older.
DREAMLAND by Mary Chapin Carpenter, illustrated by Julia Noonan.
This is the "dreamiest" book I've seen in a long time. Soft and tender art accompanies the lyric-like text: "By your bed we'll leave a light to guide you off to dreamland." "Dreamland" is a nice bedtime lullaby.
Two clever books that have lots of zip are THE MARVELOUS TOY by Tom Paxton, illustrated by Elizabeth Sayles, and THE MAN WHO LOVED CHEESE by Garrison Keillor, illustrated by Anne Wilsdorf. The Paxton book is a mysterious but marvelous song about a father and son, with lyrics included. I loved the line, "It went ZIP when it moved and BOP when it stopped and WHIRR when it stood still."
Keillor has stuffed some puns and humor into the story of Wallace P. Flynn, who likes cheese but whose family leaves because of the stench. The question remains, of course: Will Wallace P. ever learn to change his "wheys"? Lots of tongue-in-cheek humor here.
My favorite of the bunch is Dom DeLuise's "KING BOB'S NEW CLOTHES, illustrated by Christopher Santoro. I've always loved the old story of "The Emperor's New Clothes" because of the integrity of the child who wins out over all the adults. In this new version, the humor is so crisp and fresh that it begs to be read over and over again. For example, "The king's name was `Discombobulated' - a name that took too much time to say, so everyone called him King Bob." This wonderful king believed in things like "clothes make the man" and "you can lead a horse to water but if you dress him up real nice, you can take him anywhere."
You can just hear DeLuise telling this tale. It's a hoot! But the illustrations are the prize of the book. From end-page to end-page there are cartoonlike figures that are sure to bring giggles to any age reader. My favorites, besides the king-in-the-buff, of course, are the two dishonest brothers who were out-of-work tailors named Wear and Tear Kannive.
An added bonus is four "royal treat" recipes at the end of the book, "Chicken a la King," "King in a Blanket," "King Crab Cakes" and "King Crown Cake." Who but a connoisseur like DeLuise would think of that? This one is sure to become a favorite of anyone who likes "fractured fairy tales."