Three Favorite Books

I can easily say that I prefer children’s books to adult literature. Perhaps I never outgrew all those sunny afternoons I spent as a kid sitting on the couch with my nose in a book. Definitely the 'Children’s Literature' class I took for my Elementary Ed degree in college had a lot to do with my tastes. So did the burnout I felt with the overanalysis of books and poetry in the English department as I pursued my minor there. And then there’s all the years I spent reading bedtime stories to five little children. In my mind, the best books are those that can entertain and capture the imagination of a child and still have embedded meaning that is more deeply appreciated with age and experience. I share here three of my all-time favorite picture books, which in my case went from “frequent library checkout” to “must-purchase for my collection.”


POCKETS
By Jennifer Armstrong, Illustrated by Mary GrandPré

I was first drawn to this book because of the illustrator, who is most well known for her work on the Harry Potter books. Her paintings in this piece are masterful and breathtaking, but more importantly they enhance the beautifully written tale of a lone woman who changes a town. The book begins:

A slim schooner of a woman, driven by strong winds and a broken heart, floundered barefoot across the eastern plains until arriving at the edge of a village. Here she cast out a line and collapsed over the tiller. Some people found her in the morning, asleep in her gale-torn clothes...
The people of the village made known their cautious doubts when she asked to be taken in upon their charity, but she could work, she said, and would ask only for safe haven in return...
She inclined her head gravely and raised one hand in a graceful but exotic gesture. Yes, she answered, she could sew many things...
Her fingers were nimble with fretwork and gimped embroidery, smocking and couching, tucked seams and batuz work...
But the people of the village backed away with downcast eyes. We are plain and simple folk, and wear only the plainest, simplest habiliments...
Because her heart was broken, the woman agreed, and she put on a dress as wan and lifeless as a November pond...

There came a day, however, when the sight of so many plain and unadorned clothes caused her heart a new kind of pain...
The pieces of gray cloth by her side were meant for a dress for herself, and the sight of it made her long for sunny ports. So she took her bearings, and turned the pockets inside out. Then she proceeded to embroider them...
For some time, she was content to keep her adventuring confined to the pockets of her own dresses. But as she continued to sew the ugly, land-locked clothes for the people of the village, she pitied her neighbors...

The woman begins to embroider the pockets of all the clothes she makes for everyone in the village. And remarkable changes take place. 

Soon, the entire village stopped working at the weary, endless tasks for long passages of time. Instead of stooping to the plow and the loom, sweating at washtubs and ovens, and hardening their hands carrying burdens from one place to another, they took moments out to stand singly or in pairs, squinting at far horizons in their treasure-laden clothes...

As a seamstress, this story affects me to my core. As a mother, it serves as a reminder that there is more to life than just checklist tasks. As a woman, it touches me as I look around and see the beauty in life. And I believe it would leave nearly anyone asking what it is they keep and treasure in their own pockets.


ZAGAZOO
By Quentin Blake

Instantly recognizable for illustrating all of Roald Dahl's well-loved books, Quentin Blake proves to be a humorous and delightful author in his own right.

Once upon a time there was a happy couple. Their names were George and Bella....
One day the postman brought them a strange looking parcel. They unwrapped it together. Inside was a little pink creature as pretty as could be. On it was a label which said: It's name is Zagazoo. How lovely it was. George and Bella spent happy days throwing it from one to another....AND THEN ONE DAY...

George and Bella got up in the morning and discovered that Zagazoo had changed into a huge baby vulture. Its screeches were terrifying. They were even worse at night. "What shall we do?" said George. "How can we stand it?" But then...
...they got up one morning and discovered that Zagazoo had changed into a small elephant. He knocked over the furniture. He pulled the tablecloth off the table. He ate anything he could lay his trunk on...

Zagazoo continues to transform into a warthog, a bad-tempered dragon, a bat that hangs on the curtains and wails, and a strange hairy creature. Finally when George and Bella are at their wit's end, there is redemption for Zagazoo.

An excellent reminder that raising children is growing in and out of phases, and that is something that no one truly outgrows.


THE KING'S STILTS
By Dr. Seuss

I've always liked Dr. Seuss, but this book is my #1 favorite of his. The good doctor introduces his main character thus:

Naturally, the King never wore his stilts during business hours. When King Birtram worked, he really WORKED, and his stilts stood forgotten in the tall stilt closet in the castle's front hallway.

You see, King Birtram awakes at 5 am and signs important papers of state while he bathes, dresses, and eats.

By seven every morning, the King had always finished more business than most kings do in a month. He had to get all this done before seven, for that was the hour when his Big Work commenced--the most difficult and important work in the whole Kingdom of Binn. 

This was the work of caring for the mighty Dike Trees that protected the people of Binn from the sea. The sea pushed against the kingdom on three sides. The kingdom was a low one; the sea was a high one; and only the Dike Trees kept the sea from pouring in. They grew so close together in a row along the shore, that they held back the water with their heavy, knotted roots...Nizzards were always flying about over the Dike Treees, waiting for a chance to swoop down and peck. If nobody stopped them,the roots would soon give way...

But King Birtram did not permit this to happen. He had gathered together in his kingdom the largest and the smartest cats in all the world, and had trained them to chase the Nizzards away. These cats were called Patrol Cats and wore badges that said "P.C."... five hundred guarded the kingdom by day; the other five hundred kept watch through the night."

After a hard day of work, King Birtram finishes his duties at 5:00.

Then the King smiled. "A hard day," he'd say, "full of nizzardly worries. A long day," he'd say. "Now it's time for some fun!" This was the moment King Birtram lived for. When he worked, he really worked...but when he played, he really PLAYED! "Quick, Eric!" He'd shout. "Quick, Eric! The stilts!" Down the slope from the Dike Trees, away from all troubles, the King and Eric would race like two boys-straight to the tall stilt closet in the castle's front hallway. Out came the stilts! Up leapt the king!...
The townsfolk looked on from the walls and just loved it. "A grown-up King on stilts," they'd say, "does look rather strange. But it's hard work being King, and he does his work well. If he wants to have a bit of fun...sure!...Let him have it!"

Of course, a good story like this requires an evil villain. Lord Droon, his advisor, finds the King's after-hours behavior improper, and so steals the red stilts. King Birtram becomes so worn down and depressed without his favorite diversion that it almost destroys the kingdom. Eric, of course, comes to the rescue to help the king restore peace and safety to the land.

What a beautiful metaphor these stilts create for life. All of us need something bright and moving to lift us from the everyday and mundane. And enjoying good books like these definitely qualify as red stilts for me. :)

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