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In Can I Build Another Me? by Shinsuke Yoshitake, a young boy comes up with a master plan to avoid doing his chores: he spends all his pocket money on a robot to take his place. “From now on, you’re going to be the new me! […] But don’t let anyone know. You must behave exactly like me.”

But in order to be exactly like the young boy, the robot needs to know everything about the person he will be imitating. All sorts of questions, exploring everything from the boy’s physical characteristics, to likes and dislikes, via feelings and much more follow. Gradually the robot builds up a fairly comprehensive picture of what the boy is like, but will the master plan to avoid chores succeed or will Mum see through the robot straight away?

This very funny, marvellously philosophical picture book offers so many opportunities for thinking about who we are, why we behave the way we do and how we can and do change over time. It’s reflective and reassuring, creating a space full of laughter to talk about feelings, hopes and friendships. Every page offers lots of opportunities for conversations, at the same time as being full of acute and humurous observations about what it can be like being a child, trying to learn how to navigate your way in the world.

Yoshitake’s illustrations, often reminiscent of comic strips, with multiple panels on each page, are full of fabulous detail offering as much to pore over as the text does. Stylishly designed with just a few colours and a great variety of pace (some pages have lots of sections, others are given over to a single spread), the relatively simplicity of the line drawings allows Yoshitake’s fantastical imagination to flourish.

An empowering, laughter-fuelled, imagination-sparking, reflection-inducing delight, Can I Build Another Me? is meaty and marvellous, silly and serious all at once. A triumph!

We don’t ever really need an excuse for making robots out of junk. Nevertheless, we gratefully took reading Can I Build Another Me? as an opportunity to get creative with old plastic boxes and the glue gun, to create a few mini-me-robots:

Whether they are really just like us or not, they definitely have a sense of personality!

As well as making mini-me-robots, we made keepsake booklets about ourselves, inspired by the questions raised by Yoshitake in his book.

We really enjoyed filling them in, and I suspect they will be great fun to look back on in a year or more, to see how our feelings about ourselves and who we are has changed.

I learned a few things about my own kids as we filled in these booklets. “I can put a whole carrot in my mouth,” wrote M…., whilst J likes DIY and ceilidhs.

If you want to have a go at making your own Can I Build Another Me? inspired booklet, click here to download the pdf file to print off (we printed the pages back to back, then folded them in half and stapled them together along the spine).

Whilst making our robots and filling in our notebooks we listened to:

Love Me for Who I Am by Brady Rymer

I Am Not A Robot by Marina and The Diamonds

You won’t find another fool like me by the New Seekers

Other activities which might work well alongside reading include:

Making a tree to match your personality. There are loads of tree crafts, but I like the look of this, this, this and this.

Turning yourself into a robot, with the help of a large cardboard box and Viviane Schwarz’s fabulous Welcome to your Awesome Robot

Creating a nesting doll set that looks like you – you can get blank nesting doll sets (google “blank wooden Russian doll set” for example, to find lots of offerings) and then paint them to show all the different versions of you there are inside your skin. You could do ones with different facial expressions, for example.

If you liked this post you might like these other posts by me, featuring picture books with a philosophical theme:

The multi-award winning I am Henry Finch written by Alexis Deacon and illustrated by Viviane Schwarz

This is not my hat by Jon Klassen (with an interview with the author/illustrator)

Little Answer by Tim Hopgood

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Disclosure: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher. NB Although the book was translated from Japanese, no named translator is given in the bibliographic details.

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Findus goes Fishing by Sven Nordqvist, translated by Nathan Large is a book for anyone who’s ever got out of bed the wrong side and felt like nothing at all could improve their day, and also for all those who’ve spent time with someone they love who’s under a dark cloud. It’s a story of patience, love, empathy and one crazy cat.

It’s a gloomy autumn day and old farmer Pettson is down in the dumps. He doesn’t feel like doing any of the jobs he knows he needs to do. He’s blue and stuck in a funk. But his loyal and very dear friend, a kittenish cat called Findus is full of beans and just wants to play. Pettson is having none of it and snaps. “I AM IN A BAD MOOD AND I WANT TO BE LEFT ALONE!”

How can you bring a little happiness back to someone who is feeling unhappy and depressed? What can you do to bring them a small ray of sunshine when all they have above their heads is a dark cloud? Findus may want to have some fun, but he also really wants to make his good friend feel better and so with a little bit of patience, a lot of thoughtfulness and – because Findus is a bit of a rascal – a dash of mischief, Findus cleverly finds a way to help Pettson back on to his feet.

It’s not sugar coated. It’s not all sweetness and light. There is grunting and gloom aplenty. But there’s also a cat with a very big heart who’s not afraid of persevering even when he’s told to scram. Findus helps us all to find a bit of loyalty and kindness in the face of rejection.

This hugely reassuring story is a relatively quiet affair (certainly by the madcap standards of earlier Findus and Pettson escapades), with muted illustrations in browns and greys perfectly matching the moody atmosphere. But Findus goes Fishing is far from downbeat. There are still many moments to spark giggles (all I’ll say is: Who hasn’t known a child who loves to rock chairs onto their back legs?), and the detailed, rich illustrations are a full of cameos worthy of a spotlight on their own.

I’m a strong contender for the the UK’s No. 1 Findus and Pettson fan, such is my love for these characters and the stories Sven Nordqvist writes. Findus goes Fishing is yet another wonderfully enjoyable, funny-yet-not-afraid-of-being-serious story really all about that most important of things: love and how we share it.

To celebrate the publication next week of Findus goes Fishing I interviewed the book’s UK English translator, Nathan Large and started by asking him a little about his background and how he became a translator. “I come from Gloucestershire and live in Stockholm, the home town of my partner, Emilie. I started translating while working as a linguist on a project developing machine translation tools. At first this was for research reasons, to explore patterns that our software could use. But gradually the translating branched out and found a life of its own.”

Having briefly worked as a translator myself many years ago I wondered what Nathan found particularly enjoyable about the work and his reply really resonated with me. “If you love language for its own sake, there’s always something to discover or enjoy in the work. If you are a curious person, translation also gives you the excuse to read about all sorts of subjects, making you among other things (un)popular at pub quizzes. Generally speaking, it is no bad thing to help people share their stories across languages.” I couldn’t agree more and this is certainly one of the reason’s I’m so grateful to translators, and publishing houses who seek out books in translation.

So how do the nuts and bolts of translation fit together for Nathan? Where does he begin? “It depends. Sven Nordqvist’s stories are pure fun. I read the book, then translate it the old-fashioned way, page by page. I check the draft against the original to see if I’ve missed anything, then put the Swedish to one side and focus on the English. Reading aloud is the best way to do this — the tongue trips over what the eye ignores.” This idea of reading aloud is really interesting – I’ve heard many authors use exactly the same technique, especially with picture book texts, and perhaps this shared approach is no surprise, as translators really are authors in disguise; translators, particularly literary translators, have to be great writers in their own language before sensitivity to a second language can come in to it.

Looking at the Findus and Pettson stories in particular, I love how they are universal – about deep friendship and kindness – but without losing their particular Swedish identity. What is it, however, that Nathan enjoys about these stories? “I like the interplay between words and images, but most of all I like the friendship between the two characters. This comes out particularly well in the latest book, which of course isn’t really about fishing at all but about Findus trying to get Pettson out from under his cloud.

Hawthorn Press wants to stay close to Nordqvist’s voice and the Swedish setting is largely left intact, lutefisk and all. However, observant readers may notice that Pettson and Findus drink tea in one of the books, I won’t say which one. Naturally it should have been coffee.

” At this point I rush off to gather all my Findus and Pettson stories to track down the missing coffee… It’s amazing how big a smile this puts on my face.

So occasionally there might be textual changes, and this leads me to wondering about changes made in the illustrations. At the moment I’m working with a colleague on a close comparison of a French book, which has been translated quite differently into US and UK Englishes. That different words are chosen (in essentially the same language) is interesting, but what has really startled us is that some of the illustrations have been significantly altered. I’m delighted to hear that this doesn’t happen with with Findus and Pettson stories, other than occasionally translating text that appears as part of a picture.

Our experience with the French book makes me curious about other translations of the Findus and Pettson stories. Hawthorn Press (the UK publishers of Findus and Pettson) has a policy of letting the Swedish character shine threw their texts, but this isn’t the case with all versions of these stories. “It can be interesting to see what other people do with the same source material. The older US versions take quite a different approach, changing all the names and omitting much of the text. Hawthorn’s editions of Findus and the Fox and Pancakes for Findus are actually slightly edited Gecko translations, so there’s some continuity there.”

Ah! Changing names! This is a pet-hate of mine in translated stories, even if in theory I can understand the rationale that sometimes lies behind it (I can see why lovely – but typographically terrifying looking – Nijntje became Miffy for example) but why Findus and Pettson were renamed Mercury and Festus in the US I’d love to know. As to cutting the text, shortening the story, I wonder if this has something to do with different cultural expectations about illustrated books. Those who know different markets would probably agree with Charlotte Berry from the University of Edinburgh that “picture books on the continent tend to be aimed at older children than is generally accepted in the UK and the US and often contain a much higher proportion of text to image” and certainly Findus and Pettson do stand out here in the UK for looking like picture books in size and richness of illustration, but having the length of text at least sometimes associated with fiction for younger readers.

The idea about helping people share their stories across languages and cultures is still swirling in my head, so I can’t resist asking Nathan about Swedish children’s books which haven’t yet been translated into English but which he thinks would bring joy and delight to new readers. “Barbro Lindgren’s books about Loranga, Masarin och Dartanjang: a young boy, his gleefully irresponsible father and a grandfather who lives in the woodshed. First published in 1969-70, the stories are based — give or take the occasional bed-eating giraffe — on Lindgren’s own experiences raising her young family. They are quite unlike anything I have read before. English readers might recognize in Loranga the very opposite of the helicopter parent. With their surreal humour, the books are perfect for reading aloud — to children and grown-ups alike.”

I love the sound of these stories… let’s hope a publisher is listening and gives Nathan a call!

My thanks go to Nathan for giving us an insight into how he works, and most especially for bringing us Sven Nordqvist’s brilliant, delightful, heartwarming big hugs which look like books, filled with Findus and Pettson stories. All power to translators and the publishing houses who support them!

If you’d like to find out about other Findus and Pettson stories here are all my reviews:
Pancakes for Findus and When Findus was Little and Disappeared
Findus and the fox
Findus at Christmas
Findus Moves Out
Findus Plants Meatballs
Findus, Food and Fun – Seasonal crafts and nature activities

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Pierre the Maze Detective: The Search for the Stolen Maze Stone written by Chihiro Maruyama, illustrated by by Hiro Kamigaki and IC4Design and translated by Emma Sakamiya and Elizabeth Jenner is quite something.

The Maze Stone, which has the power to turn the whole of Opera City into a maze, has been stolen, and you – dear reader – are needed to help track down the culprit and restore this magical object.

Why should you take up this challenge?

Because en route…

you’ll journey by air balloon, through the most impressive treehouses you’ve ever seen, in and out of Escher-esque buildings, across giant octopus infected oceans and through a bizarre underground fleamarket where just about anything you can imagine is up for sale.

you’ll enter a strange hybrid land set in the 1920s-30s, half-video game half-astonishing book, collecting extra points and hidden items, watching out for traps and more. All you need to do is imagine the soundtrack.

you’ll be dazzled by incredibly intricate illustrations packed with many more stories than the primary one following the fate of the maze stone. Every “wrong” turning as you try to crack the maze on each page will give you reason to wonder what’s been happening, and what will happen next!

If you’ve a child poorly in bed, or it’s just a rainy day calling out for a duvet on the sofa, Pierre the Maze Detective is a rich and rewarding rabbit hole ready for anyone who loves losing themselves in an adventure of almost unimaginable detail and scale.

This stop-motion video showing how one of the double page spreads was planned out gives you a good impression of the labyrinthine, meticulous nature of the illustrations:

A picture book for older children (and their grown-ups) who love a challenge or who are inspired by the imaginative possibilities of vast landscapes and settings, Pierre the Maze Detective helpfully comes with a key to all the mazes, and also a page of extra delights to go back and look for – all printed in the style of a vintage newspaper.

Playful, precise, interactive and highly imaginative, this incredibly well produced book (with its lovely paper and large size) is original and eye-opening. As I said, it’s quite something!

Pierre the Maze Detective owes something, I believe, to the work of another Japanese picture book creator: Mitsumasa Anno. Anno created a whole series of detailed wordless picture books where a tiny character wends his way through different landscapes, and although his books weren’t mazes as such, they share with Pierre the sense of journeying, immense details, and rich stories being told away from the most direct path to the final destination.

Having enjoyed the mazes, the details and the adventures in Pierre the Maze Detective we decided it was time to make our own mazes. Using the basic design principles outlined here, we decided to build our maze out of lego and turn it into a marble run.

We all really enjoyed making each other different mazes to try out. The lego made it really easy to create new mazes and kept the kids happily occupied for a good couple of hours – longer than I had anticipated!

Whilst creating our mazes we listened (rather eclectically) to:

Missing in the Corn Maze by vogelJoy

It’s A Maze from the Original Broadway Cast Recording of “The Secret Garden”

Private Investigations by Dire Straits

Other maze activities which might work well alongside reading Pierre the Maze Detective include:

Going to the park and making a maze out of leaves – perfect for this time of year in the UK

Creating a maze out of books – perhaps with the help of your local library?

Making the most of lots of cardboard and using it to create a giant maze – here’s one idea from Viviane Schwarz, and here’s another.

Creating a ‘lazer’ maze for the kids to try and make their way through

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Disclosure: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher.

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Friends are fun to play with. Friends keep you company. Friends comfort you. All this Emily knows.

She also knows a simple balloon can be your friend.

Emily’s Balloon by Komako Sakai is the gentlest of observations about how nothing more than a plain balloon and a little bit of imagination can be the cause great happiness.

Emily receives a balloon and takes it home to play with. Soon she’s sharing everything with her balloon and takes it outside to play house with. One gust of wind, however, and it is stuck in a nearby tree. What will Emily do now? What will console her?

The innocence and lucidity of this story gives it charm that is utterly captivating. It celebrates a sense of wonder that we sometimes lose as we grow older, but which we’re only too happy to be reminded of. Emily’s natural openness, her ability to imagine and indeed truly see her balloon as a friend – to show such a easy leap of faith – will warm all but the coldest of hearts.

Sakai’s illustrations have a quiet magic about them, capturing Emily’s body language like poetry; in a way that seems so right, so simple and yet still startling in its accuracy. Minimal use of colour and lots of wide open white space create a sense of meditative timelessness. All in all a peaceful, lyrical picture book with the hallmarks of a classic.

Not all playing by the book needs to be complicated. Recently all we did to celebrate a book was eat some cheesecake. (Tough life!). This time, all that was needed was a yellow helium filled balloon to play with after school.

We batted it about, we took it outside, we played “chicken” letting it float away and then catching it before it flew out of grasp!

We tied a spoon to the string and found the “balance point” – using blutack we added and removed tiny weights until the balloon with the spoon floated mysteriously in mid-air, neither touching the ground, nor flying up to the ceiling.

This turned into a science lesson the next day when we saw how how the helium appeared to become less effective at lifting the balloon (this is actually due to helium leaking out of the balloon, through the relatively porous latex) and we had to reduce the weight of the spoon to re-find the balance point.

Whilst playing with our balloon we listened to:

It Only Takes One Night to Make a Balloon Your Friend by Lunch Money (this really is a GORGEOUS song)

Balloons by Skyboat

Can We Buy a New Car (So I Can Have a Balloon)? by Eric Herman. ‘Coz I’m a sucker for a bit of steel guitar.

Other activities which might work well alongside reading Emily’s Balloon include:

Reading Sakai’s Hannah’s Night – my very favourite book in any genre from 2013.

Making a hat for your balloon (as Emily does) – this is a really easy tutorial using an old pair of leggings, from This Simple Home.

Creating a flower garland (like Emily does) to wear in your hair. If you haven’t fresh flowers, try this tutorial using a paper bag from Happy Hooligans.

If you liked this post you might like these other posts by me:

A review of a wordless picture book, The Yellow Balloon by Charlotte Dematons

Learning how to stick a knitting needle through a balloon without it popping!

One of my all time favourite Playing by the book activities, inspired by Up with Birds! by John Yeoman and Quentin Blake

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Disclosure: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher. Whilst this book has been translated from Japanese, there is no information available regarding the translator.

Emily’s Balloon
Komako Sakai
Chronicle Books
£5.99 • Paperback •

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Engaging in critical thinking about one’s own belief system does not often include laughing so much you end up breathless and hiccuping but that’s just what happened one evening last week when our bedtime read was Meet at the Ark at Eight! by Ulrich Hub, illustrated by Jörg Mühle, translated by Helena Ragg-Kirkby.

This witty, keenly observed and questioning novella retells the biblical flood story with wave after wave of philosophical observations and deadpan humour. Two (male) penguins smuggle a third aboard the ark when an overworked and stressed-out dove chivvies them along to avoid extinction.

Deep in the hold of the boat the friends continue what they started on land: trying to tease out in their own minds whether God exists, and if so, what he is like. Conundrums (“We’re birds, but we smell like fish; we have wings, but we can’t fly.“), chance (“Life is so strange. If two other penguins had been standing here, they’d have been given these tickets and we’d have ended up drowning miserably,“), honesty, guilt and the complexities of friendships are explored with a stark innocence that makes the penguins’ questioning all the more powerful.

And these questions are ones that I think come naturally to children when thinking about religion – about punishment, about proof, about the essence of faith. The answers, such as they are in this book, leave a lot of space for making up your own mind; this isn’t a black and white pot-shot at religious fundamentalism, but something much more nuanced, even if some may find the laser-sharp humour hard to marry with their own beliefs.

Whether or not you or your kids pick this book up because of its rich philosophical strand, two further aspects of this moral tale are worth pointing out.

Meet at the Ark at Eight! is extremely funny. One scene in particular had my girls and I barely able to breathe for all the laughter as I read the book out loud to them; when the dove comes to check up on the penguins, one of them hides in a suitcase and pretends to be the voice of God. This scene is just so theatrical (it comes as no surprise to later find out that the author, Ulrich Hub, has written many plays) with perfect timing and exquisite dialogue. “God”‘s game is up when he pushes the boundary just a little too far and asks the dove for some cheesecake; I am putting money on this becoming a family catchphrase that will stay with us all our book=reading lives.

Secondly, the illustrations by Jörg Mühle are wonderful. Nearly every double page spread has at least one illustration and the characterization, especially of the dove, is sublime. I’ve seen very few cases in all the illustrated books I’ve ever read where an apparently simple, nonchalant line can pack such a punch.

I can only heartily encourage you to read this multi-award-winning retelling to find out how three goes into two for the final disembarkation in front of Noah. This novella hides real delight and serious philosophizing in between its slim, sensational pages.

The day after we read Meet at the Ark at Eight! “God” came visiting in his suitcase. We supplied cheesecake, and I’m glad to report that penguins, kids and all the celestial beings we know were all very happy with such a delicious after school treat.

Whilst taste-testing cheesecake we listened to:

Cheesecake by none other than the brilliant Louis Armstrong

Penguinese by Recess Monkey

Who Built the Ark sung by Raffi

Other activities which might work well alongside reading Meet at the Ark at Eight! include:

Building boats – Red Ted Art has a great round up of craft ideas

Reading another variant on the flood story. Here’s a helpful collection of titles (picture books, novels) from Allen County Public Library. My personal favourite is a Dutch re-telling by Tonke Dragt – Wat Niemand Weet, with amazing illustrations by Annemarie van Haeringen. Or for a non-book retelling, you can’t go wrong with Eddie Izzard’s sketch….

Reading What is Humanism? by Michael Rosen and Annemarie Young – the only children’s book I know about this particular philosophical and ethical stance.

If you liked this post you might like these other posts by me:

A review of Penguin by Polly Dunbar

Making penguins from balloons

Making penguins from aubergines (eggplants). Yes. Really!

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Disclosure: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher.

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With all the ingredients of an enduring fairy tale, Azizi and the Little Blue Bird is a charming and beautiful tale of freedom over oppression and hope over fear, with the intriguing twist that it is actually based on real-life events from just a few years ago.

Written by Laïla Koubaa, illustrated by Mattias De Leeuw and translated by David Colmer, this allegory is set in an imaginary Middle Eastern land where despotic rulers, Tih and Reni, cream the land for its riches whilst locking up those they don’t like. Thus it comes to pass that all the country’s blue birds are trapped in one huge cage inside the rulers’ palace.

Whilst Tih and Reni feast on opulent riches, a single bird manages to escape and to find the hero of our story, a young boy. Azizi climbs onto the blue bird’s back and soon they are flying over the whole country, with a garland of flowers trailing behind them, leaving a ribbon of scent as if to wake the senses of everyone they pass. Will it be enough to overthrow the tyrants and free the birds?

Wonderfully rich imagery in word and illustration triggers memories of colourful bazaars piled high with riches. De Leeuw makes liberal use of smudges; creating softer, more energetic illustrations where you can feel the hand of the illustrator very close by. His use of perspective accentuates the sense of oppression: The rulers get bigger and bigger whilst their subjects become smaller and smaller.

Koubaa’s timeless tale, translated with clarity and beauty by David Colmer, actually refers to a period in 2010/2011 when, during the Arab Spring. the the internet was censored and/or shut down during the uprisings, in an attempt to prevent protests from spreading over the region. The little blue birds – have you already guessed it? – refer to Twitter.

For me it is really interesting to see a children’s picture book explore the positive side of social media, albeit metaphorically. When I recently looked into portrayals of social media in books for the very young, I found that the message was overwhelmingly a negative one. This book, however, would be an interesting one to include in a more nuanced discussion about the pros and cons of life online as explored through picture books.

Azizi and the Little Blue Bird is a wonderfully hopeful and evocative fairy story is about good triumphing over bad and little people being brave and clever. I hope it reaches the wide audience it deserves.

Enchanted by the vision of a sweet smelling garland of flowers spreading and hope, the girls and I raided our allotment for flowers we could thread.

Using tapestry needles (nice and big for little hands), and strong thread the girls set to threading their garland.

It was a lovely sensory experience and soon we had a good long stretch of colour and good cheer.

We added a few blue birds and our garland was complete!

Bergamot, zinnias and cornflowers (the flowers we used) all dry quite well so I’m hoping that the garland will have quite a long life.

Whilst making our flower garland we listened to:

I’ll Fly Away performed by Gillian Welch and Alison Krauss

Little Bird, Little Bird by Elizabeth Mitchell

Pãram pãram – a traditional Tunisian song, found in Songs in the Shade of the Olive Tree, a storybook and CD featuring lullabies and nursery rhymes from Morocco, Algeria, and Tunisia.

Other activities which might work well alongside reading this book include:

Cooking couscous. The rulers in this book eat lots of couscous, and couscous is very kid-friendly food when it comes to preparation. This BBC recipe gives you some ideas for preparing a meal together.

Creating paper jasmine flowers. Here’s an origami tutorial. You could even scent them with jasmine essential oil.

Making your own (blue) birds. Here’s a tutorial for making some out of fimo (modelling clay), or how about out of cake?

If you liked this post you might like these other posts by me:

Making a house out of flowers alongside a lovely re-telling of the Three Little Pigs tale.

Creating birds out of doilies – perfect for mobiles.

An Iranian story about determination and freedom.

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Disclosure: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher.

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One of the big (and to some, surprising) hits of English language children’s publishing in 2013-2014 was a novel originally written in 1962 by an author very few people in the UK or the US had ever heard of. However, on its publication here, it was greeted with virtually universal acclaim, featuring in many “best of the year” book lists. In a matter of months reprints were ordered more than once.

That book was The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, available for the first time in English thanks to multi-award winning translator Laura Watkinson and Pushkin Press, a publisher committed to bringing more international classics to an audience notoriously wary of translations.

The Letter for the King is widely recognised in its home country, The Netherlands, as the best children’s book ever to be written in Dutch. And it’s success in the UK suggests that children here love it just as much as they do across the North Sea. My family, with one foot in each country, doubly loves the book, it having been a bedtime read multiple time in both languages.

So you can imagine my sheer delight when I opened a parcel on Friday to find it contained a proof of the bestseller’s sequel: The Secrets of the Wild Wood.

This really is one of the most exciting moments of my book-ish year. If anything, the sequel is even better than The Letter for the King; and I can say this having now read (or listened to) both books in both languages. Few sequels surpass their predecessors, but for my money The Secrets of the Wild Wood stakes an astonishingly good claim to doing just that.

Whilst a review will take some time to brew as I go back and look more in detail at the translation and let the (English language) story settle in my head and heart, I wanted to mark this very exciting occasion somehow. My excitement spurred me on to approach Pjotr van Lenteren, a Dutch journalist, who had the very good fortune to interview Tonke Dragt earlier this year. I asked if I might translate the resulting article (which originally appeared in the Dutch broadsheet Volkskrant) and very generously he agreed, so today I’m thrilled to bring you something very special and very rare – an interview with Tonke Dragt.

Tonke Dragt: My knights’ tales belong in England

By Pjotr van Lenteren 5 January 2015,
[originally published in the Volkskrant, available at http://www.volkskrant.nl/boeken/tonke-dragt-mijn-ridderboeken-horen-thuis-in-engeland~a3822758/

]

Children’s writer Tonke Dragt (84) has finally conquered England: The Letter for the King has been a success for more a year. In this rare interview she tells us how things stand with her.

‘So, now I’ll stop complaining’, says Tonke Dragt after talking continuously for quarter of an hour. Not so long ago the 84 year old children’s writer moved house to a private nursing home, because her previous one went bankrupt. Her arthritis has worsened and since Dragt broke her foot in inexplicable circumstances a month ago, she can barely walk any more.

‘I find the nights the hardest. I often don’t feel like going to sleep, but there’s nothing to do. I read a lot. The Scarlet Pimpernel for example, for old time’s sake, and to balance it out the Tao te Ching. They’re trying their best here, but sometimes I get really fed up with everything. That I’ve got physical difficulties, that’s clear, but sometimes they treat me as if my mind isn’t good either. They only believe I’ve written books when it is in the newspapers.’

She may have physical difficulties, but mentally the creator of the Letter for the King (1962), one of the best know Dutch children’s books, crowned with the Griffel of Griffels [each year the best Dutch children’s book of that year is crowned with a Golden Griffel (stylus), and in 2004 Letter for the King was picked as the best ever winner of a Golden Griffel / zt] is still her old self. She is enthusiastic about her late breakthrough in England. The Letter for the King has been a runaway success now for a year. ‘Yes, what can I say about it? I’m really delighted. Finally!’

So happy that she has – exceptionally – granted an interview. The fact that it has been published at all is something special; only 3% of books published in the UK are translations. In Germany, children can get all of Dragt’s books, in Spain more than half of her books are available. An edition has appeared in Indonesia, where Dragt grew up, and also one in the land of the occupiers at that time: Japan. [During the Second World War Dragt was imprisoned as a child in a Japanese camp in the then Dutch East Indies / zt]

The Letter for the King tells the story of Tiuri, a squire. On the eve before he is knighted, he leaves the chapel where he is holding a vigil, because someone asks him for help. A quest, which closely mirrors the classic knights’ tales which are so popular in the land of King Arthur and Tolkien.

But the only book of hers available in English until recently was the little read 1975 American translation of her science fiction book, The Towers of February. ‘That the English didn’t want The Letter for the King, I’ve never understood, to be honest. I have always felt that my knight tales belong there.”

The book was offered multiple times by her publishers, once indeed with a letter of recommendation from the famous English fantasy writer Alan Garner. “That time I got the parcel back with the wrapping torn open. Jolly good, I thought, they’ve opened it. It was the first time they’d done so, but even then they thought the cost of translation was too high.”

The 52-year-old spell was broken by Laura Watkinson, a Netherlands-based translator, who sent the first chapters in English to Adam Freudenheim of Pushkin Press, a publishing house specialising in translations of international classics, who had just launched a children’s imprint.

When one night his kids secretly pinched the manuscript in order that they could read more from it, he was won over. “They were delighted,” says Dragt. “They thought it was like Harry Potter. That’s nonsense of course – there are no knights in Harry Potter and in the Letter for the King no wizards. Oh well. They were going to publish it. Fine with me.”

And as to sales figures too, the Brits were proved wrong: All the major papers wrote glowingly about the book, the third printing was in the the shops before Christmas, and Watkinson is now dotting the i’s and crossing the t’s of its sequel: The Secrets of the Wild Wood.

‘Yes, I’m pleased. Really pleased. It’s finally done. Although… maybe my other books will find favour too. Sky High and Miles Wide, for example. [Dutch: Torenhoog en mijlenbreed / zt]. Who knows? I can dream about it, can’t it? I have to keep my mind a little bit busy to forget the failings of my body. It’s always good to have something to look forward to.’

She hopes to be able to return at some point to her own home, now modified, and to be amongst her own books and the collages that she’s been working on during the past few years [Dragt is an artist as well as a writer / zt]. She also wants to be present when the dolls’ house that she built as scenery for her last two novels is donated to the Museum of Literature. She even dreams of writing one more story. It has working title “The Painting of Wu Daozi” and is a key passage in her still unfinished final novel, The Road to the Cell.

‘It’s about a legendary painter from the 6th or 7th century BC. His paintings were so lifelike, that one day he disappeared into one of them. I often told my version in the classroom, when I was still an art teacher. It resulted in the most beautiful artwork. I never wanted to write it down, because I was afraid that then I wouldn’t be able to tell it any more. But now I often find myself thinking about it at night. Yes, I do think I should write down that story. Then you’ll understand everything.’

***********

I hope it goes without saying that any errors or misjudgments in the translation are mine and mine alone. I’m most grateful to Pjotr van Lenteren for permission to translate his Volkskrant article, and would encourage any of you who read Dutch to take a look at his book blog De Gelukkige Lezer or to follow him on Twitter @gelukkigelezer.

If the story Wu Daozi has piqued your interest, I can wholeheartedly recommend the exquisite picture book Brush of the Gods by Lenore Look, illustrated by Meilo So. I do hope that one day we get to read Tonke Dragt’s version of the story, but in the meantime I’m sure you’ll find plenty to enjoy in this Look and So’s retelling of Wu Daozi’s story. As to more from Dragt? I’m delighted to report that translator Laura Watkinson is now working on Dragt’s De Zevensprong, a book about a treasure hunt and a rescue mission which takes its title from a traditional song every Dutch child knows. A challenge for Watkinson to translate, but one I’m more than sure she’ll rise to!

The Secrets of the Wild Wood publishes on 3 September 2015 in the UK. Special thanks to my mother-in-law for first alerting me to Pjotr van Lenteren’s interview.

If you enjoyed this post, you might like to read the interview I carried out with Laura Watkinson, or this post about my favourite books translated from Dutch, with further suggestions for future translations from translator David Colmer.

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Would you let your child loose with someone whom others might describes as threatening, morally corrupt, gullible, impudent, and very hungry for little people?

I’m guessing not.

And yet with picture books we do that more often than we might realise.

And our kids love us for it.

A great example of this is the newest board book from Gecko Press, a New Zealand based publisher I follow with great interest for they have a very particular eye when it comes to books which do things differently.

Help! The Wolf is Coming! by Cédric Ramadier and Vincent Bourgeau, translated by Linda Burgess, is a wonderfully thrilling and delightfully funny story about a wolf making its way threateningly towards us, the reader and listener. As it gets closer and closer we’re invited to do what we can to stop Wolf in his tracks and save ourselves from his clutches.

Prompted to turn the book to an angle, we cause Wolf to start slipping off the page. By shaking the book, we can rattle Wolf. But can we actually save ourselves, and more importantly, save our children?

Like Hervé Tullet’s Press Here, Help! The Wolf is Coming! pushes the boundary of what we take for granted as a book and how we can interact with the physical object in our hands. It asks questions about how we allow ourselves to play, to let imagination take over whilst we suspend reality. Both Press Here and Help! The Wolf is Coming! encourage us to do various things to the book and these actions appear to have consequences for what’s on the page.

On one level, we are in no doubt that what we’re doing doesn’t actually cause any reaction; A physical book is not like an app, where a tap or a swipe does change what happens. On another level, however, we as readers and listeners have great fun becoming omnipotent, able to shape the story and take control of the book, even if (or perhaps because?) what happens, happens inside us.

Help! The Wolf is Coming! not only tests the boundaries of what it means to be a book and engage with it. It also nudges up against themes which push boundaries. It’s about a wolf who is no doubt full of bad intentions. He’s all jagged edges, his mouth is blood red, his eyes stare strikingly out from the page. If we’re not careful, we are going to be eaten up. And yet I can guarantee this is a book that will be requested time and time again. Even though Wolf is a baddy through and through our kids will want to return to him. And why’s this? Why do we put ourselves through the worry and the fear?

Perhaps it’s all for the peal of laughter and delight that comes with the relief when we realise at the end of the book that we’re safe and in the arms of our loved ones. Just like the thrill of a circus ride, coming face to face with a threat, a big worry, or an enormous fear is all worth it if, in the end, we discover we’re safe.

That said, Help! The Wolf is Coming! will suit fans of Jon Klassen as the ending is potentially ambivalent. The door on the wolf may not actually be locked shut… and what then?

This book is sizzlingly good fun to share. It’s got an enormous appeal across the age ranges (don’t be fooled by the fact that is has been produced as a board book. I challenge you to give it to some 10 year olds and see how they react; I’d place money on a hugely positive reaction). Delicious desire, finely tuned tension, wit, power, giggles and exhilaration are all to be found in its pages. No wonder we’ve all returned many times to this book already.

And returning to wolves is something which Gecko Press has also done several times now. They’ve a whole slew of great books which explore that double edged wonderfulness of wolves – their capacity to simultaneously provide enormous excitement and terrible anxiety – and their ability to make us feel clever at their foolishness.

In addition to Help! The Wolf is Coming!, they’ve published I am The Wolf and Here I Come! (such a great book for children learning to get dressed and one which will end with adult and child heaped in a bundle of tickles and kisses and cuddles), I am So Strong, I am so Handsome (two wonderful books about hubris), Wolf and Dog (a fabulous, gorgeously illustrated first chapter book about heart warming friendship). Noting this apparent predilection for all things lupine I asked Gecko Press publisher Julia Marshall for her thoughts on her wolfish catalogue and why she thinks wolves, despite being threatening, morally corrupt, gullible, impudent, and very hungry for little children are so perfect for meeting in picture books.

Playing by the book: Help! The Wolf is Coming, I am The Wolf and Here I Come!, I am So Strong, I am so Handsome, Wolf and Dog…. what does your catalogue tell us about how you feel about wolves?

Julia Marshall, Gecko Press Publisher: Wolves can be so many different things in a book. The image of a pack of gray, slinky, shadowy wolves is terrifying, isnt it? But what our wolves have in common is that they are all a bit funny. They are busy trying to be frightening, though they are not at all. They are a bit bombastic, a little silly, and it is easy to get the better of them. And mostly they are very frightened themselves, poor things.

Playing by the book: What do you think young children love so much about these wolf characters?

Julia Marshall: I think children love to experience the frisson of fear, safely confined to the pages of the book (In I am The Wolf and Here I Come! on the back cover it says “Snap the book shut to keep the wolf inside”. And when I read it to a child I say: “And isn’t it nice that he has to stay there, all night!”). It is a bit like tickling – sort of nice-not-nice at the same time. But of course one should not take a wolf at face value. A wolf is a wolf, after all, and always a little unpredictable, and it is as well to know that.

Playing by the book: What other children’s books (in particular, picture books) with wolves in do you love?

Julia Marshall: I love Emily Gravett’s Wolves – it has my favourite picture book cover also. Old stories like Little Red Riding Hood and Romulus and Remus are very strong for me too. My favourite French wolf is Loulou by Grégoire Solotareff and I would love for that to be a Gecko Press book.

Playing by the book: Have you any more wolf books on the way?

Julia Marshall: We do! We have a new non-fiction book coming early next year about Wolf and Dog, which includes things about mummies and dinosaurs. It is a great book! I like its mixture of fiction and non-fiction and the humour that is at the heart of it.

Playing by the book: Ooh, great! That sounds right up our street. We’ll be keeping an eye out for it!

Inspired by Help! The Wolf is Coming! my girls and I set about creating our own interactive books with instructions for the readers to make magic happen. We each started with a blank board book: You can buy blank board books ready-made, your can make your own from pressed (ie non corrugated) cardboard, or you can recycle old board books by covering the pages with full sheet adhesive labels which you trim to size, which is what we did.

First we talked about different ways we can physically interact with books and what consequences that could have for their illustrations. Then we mapped out our interactions on a story board and then drew them into our board books.

Front covers and titles followed and now I can proudly present to you:

Here’s an excerpt from my 7 year old’s book:

I’m not going to give away the end of this exciting story, but let’s just say it doesn’t turn out well for Evil Emperor Penguin (yes, if you’re a fan of this fabulous comic you might recognise the lead character )

Whilst making our books we listened to:

Wolf by First Aid Kit

Hungry Like the Wolf by Duran Duran in homage to my teenage years (“What Mum, you liked this when you were a kid? NO WAY!?!”)

Howlin’ Wolf by Smokestack Lightnin’, cause you gotta educate the kids.

Alongside reading Help! The Wolf is Coming! you could look up other wolfy books to enjoy together. Here are some of my favourite:

My thanks go to @AHintofMystery, ‏@jonesgarethp, ‏@chaletfan, @librarymice, ‏@ruthmarybennett, ‏@AitchLove, @KatyjaMoran, @kdbrundell, and @KrisDHumphrey for a stimulating discussion on Twitter around wolves in books for children, especially exploring the notion that wolves in picture books are often depicted as threats (as in many of the picture books above), whilst in books for older children are often depicted as allies (for example in Michelle Paver’s Chronicles of Ancient Darkness, or Katherine Brundell’s forthcoming The Wolf Wilder). Whilst there are exceptions to this generality, we discussed why there might be different relationships with wolves depending on the age of the readership: Wolves as a metaphor for growing sexual awareness – which has (mostly) no place in picture books and is therefore presented as bad thing, but as readers get older it becomes less threatening, wolves as a cipher for independence, growth and maturity, and / or our relationship with wolves shifting as we grow up, as we become bolder and more interested in (or at least less threatened by) unpredictability. No doubt there’s much more that could be unpicked here, but it was a really enjoyable conversation and I’m really grateful to everyone who chimed in.

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of Help! The Wolf is Coming! from the publisher.

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Many of the best books take us into ourselves and outside into the world, facilitating journeys we might not otherwise have taken either in thought or reality. This sense of adventure and possibility is one of the reason’s why I’m so passionate about books in translation and why I was delighted to hear about the bestselling Chinese children’s novel Bronze and Sunflower (青铜葵花) by Cao Wenxuan hitting English-language bookshelves for the first time this year, thanks to its translation by Helen Wang.

Sunflower and Bronze, two children who are isolated and lonely for different reasons befriend each other. Following the death of Sunflower’s father, Bronze’s family unofficially adopt Sunflower and the story then follows the two children’s friendship, adventures, and experiences living in a very poor but very happy and generous family. Although not without times of grief and real hardship, Bronze and Sunflower’s lives are full of so much loveliness, happiness and kindness that this book, this story came as a welcome breath of fresh air, full of hope and a reminder that warmth and generosity can make for powerful storytelling just as much as angst and dystopia.

Although set in rural China during the Cultural Revolution Bronze and Sunflower has a timeless quality about it; yes, there are references to Cadre schools (a feature of the Cultural Revolution) but nevertheless it felt as if this story could have been set in almost any time period. It has a folktale-like quality in its focus on simple everyday events and challenges. The ingenuity of Bronze, the determination of his entire family to provide the best they can for Sunflower, and the fierce love between adoptive brother and sister are moving and enchanting.

This exploration of aspects of every day simple life reminded me at times of the Laura Ingalls books in the best possible sense and thus I believe Bronze and Sunflower would make a great read aloud from around 6+, as well as being enjoyed by older independent readers. This quiet and gentle story woven through with thoughtfulness and bright love will stay with me for a long time.

Captivated as I was by this Chinese novel, I took the opportunity to interview its translator, Helen Wang, about her work and – more broadly – Chinese children’s literature. First I asked about the process Helen goes through when translating a book, where she starts and what “tricks” or routines she makes use of.

Helen Wang: This is only the second book I’ve translated, so I don’t really have any “tricks” or routines. It takes a few months to translate a novel, and it seems to take between one to two years for a translated book to appear in print. It’s quite a commitment for everyone involved. So I like to take some time at the beginning to read the book and play with it, and work out whether we’ll get along – a bit like browsing in a bookshop or a library. One publisher was very keen for me to translate a particular book, and was so anxious when I turned it down. She wanted to know what was wrong with the book! There was nothing with the book, it was just that I didn’t feel I was the right person to translate it. Actually, the experience reminded me a bit of Daniel Pennac’s book “The Rights of the Reader” (translated by Sarah Ardizzone).

Playing by the book: Yes, translators have rights too! How interesting that you felt your style or approach didn’t somehow match a given book. That makes me wonder…what were the most challenging aspects of translating Bronze and Sunflower?

Helen Wang: When the editor at Walker Books sent me the Chinese edition of Bronze and Sunflower, I was staying with my mother and sister, and I would read a chapter at a time and then tell them what had happened. At first it seemed as though I was telling them about one brutal disaster or trauma after another, and it was not easy to show how the story would work in English. As the written translation progressed, it was lovely to see the human story coming to the fore.

We often think about language and culture when translating, but the story-telling is just as important. Things like timing, tension, suspense, length, rhythm, humour and dialogue are crucial elements of a story. We learn these when we are very young, and we all know how little children will complain if you don’t tell the story properly. Chinese stories often provide more information, and more repetition, than the English reader is used to. It doesn’t mean that one style is better than another, but rather that we have different expectations and tolerances. For example, when Sherlock Holmes’ stories were first translated into Chinese, they were given spoiler-titles like “The Case of the Sapphire in the Belly of the Goose”. Part of the challenge of translating is working out the storytelling!

Playing by the book: I find it really interesting that you talk about the impact of the disasters when you were first reading Bronze and Sunflower. Whilst there’s definitely hardship and trauma I didn’t find them overwhelming. What shone through was the compassion and thoughtful human relationships. There were whole stretches I wanted to underline! So tell me, what is your favourite passage in Bronze and Sunflower – your favourite bit of narrative?

Helen Wang: I think one of my favourite lines in the whole book has to be in the last chapter, when the authorities come to talk to the head of the village about moving Sunflower back to the city. We’ve followed the family through all the hardships, and like the family and the villagers, we can’t bear the thought of the authorities taking her away. The head of the village, playing for time, sums up the situation so succinctly: “It’s difficult”. It’s perfect!

Playing by the book: Ah yes, that’s a great scene. My personal favourite (without giving too much away) is the one which involves fireflies…. But now perhaps a much harder question: In what way is Bronze and Sunflower typical (or atypical) of 21st century Chinese children’s literature? I read recently that Chinese children’s literature tends to have what Westerners might call a strong Famous Five flavour, and that lots of what gets written would be considered a bit old fashioned for success in Western markets.

Helen Wang: Well I’ve already mentioned the fact that in Chinese stories there can be a different tempo, tension or tolerance of certain linguistic devices such as repetition.

I’ve heard English people say that Chinese children’s books can be overly moral or too didactic. And I’ve heard Chinese people complain that English stories lack firm morals and instruction! But these were adults talking, and it would useful to have some feedback from younger readers too!

One way to get an idea of what’s popular in China now is to look at the list of the 30 bestselling children’s books. The last available list is for February 2015.

By far the most popular children’s author at the moment is Leon Image (a pseudonym), who has ten books in the Top 30, and is one of the richest authors in China. Leon Image is the creator of the phenomenally successful Charlie IX series. Charlie IX is a dog with royal pedigree and superpowers, who, together with his schoolboy owner DoDoMo, goes on amazing fantasy adventures that involve working out clues along the way. The books come together with a magnifier, stickers and puzzles. The latest book is the series is no. 24: Charlie IX, Empty City at the End of the World, and there are currently eight books of this series in the top 30!

Leon Image has also produced the very popular Monster Magic series, and two of these (nos 13 and 14) are in the top 30. I don’t think any of the Leon Image books have been translated into English. However, there are four authors on the list whose work has been translated into English fairly recently.

Yang Hongying is the creator of several very successful series. She started writing children’s books as a young primary school teacher in the 1980s, and after a few years left teaching to concentrate on writing. Her ‘Mo’s Mischief’ series is about a lively little boy, Mo, who keeps getting into trouble (some of these are available in English: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mo’s_Mischief). ‘The Diary of a Smiling Cat’ series follows the adventures of Mo’s cousin’s talking pet cat. ‘Girl’s Diary’ is about a girl in her last year at primary school.

Shen Shixi is China’s “King of Animal Stories” and he has written lots of them! His current bestseller in China is ‘Wolf King Dream’. His book Jackal and Wolf is available in English (translated by me) – it’s about a jackal who raises an orphaned wolf cub and the hair-raising adventures they have hunting, surviving, finding mates, having cubs – with the added complications that wolves and jackals don’t get on, and that they have a mother-daughter relationship.

Wu Meizhen is well-known for her Sunshine Sister series. She also wrote An Unusual Princess, which is available in English, translated by Petula Parris-Huang, and has a few twists in the tail.

Cao Wenxuan is Professor of Chinese Literature at Peking University, and writes for both adults and children. He currently has two books in the top 30: Bronze and Sunflower, first published in 2005 and still one of the bestselling children’s books in China; and Straw Houses (tr Sylvia Yu et al). Both of these are available in English now, and I hear a third – Dawang Tome: The Amber Tiles (translated by Nicholas Richards, Better Chinese, California, 2015. ISBN 978-1-60603-707-2) – will be launched at Book Expo America 2015, in May, where China is the guest of honour this year.

There are several commercial titles tied in with TV series, such as the Happy Lamb, Little Pig and Carrot Fantasy series. And there are six well-known translated titles on the list too: Totto-chan, Little Girl at the Window (Tetsuko Kuroyanagi), Charlotte’s Web (E.B. White), Pippi Longstocking (Astrid Lindgren), Fantastic Mr Fox (Roald Dahl), The Cricket in Times Square (George Selden) and Guess How Much I Love You? (Sam McBratney, Anita Jeram).

If you want to read more you might enjoy the special issue of IBBY’s journal Bookbird devoted to Chinese children’s books, although it was published nearly 10 years ago in 2006, nearly 10 years ago! It’s time for a new one!

There are also a couple of lists on Good Reads dedicated to Chinese children’s books / themes – Children’s Books about CHINA & Chinese Culture and Chinese Juvenile/Young Adults books.

Some books I might highlight include:

White Horses by Yan Ge, translated by Nicky Harman. This is a Young Adult novella. Yan Ge’s a very observant young writer with a wicked sense of humour.

Black Flame by Gerelchimeg Blackcrane, translated by Anna Holmwood. This is an animal story about a Tibetan mastiff

Pai Hua Zi and the Clever Girl, a graphic novel by Zhang Xinxin which I’ve translated, about Zhang Xinxin’s childhood in Beijing in the 1960s on the eve of the Cultural Revolution.

Little White Duck – a Childhood in China by Na Liu and Andres Vera Martinez. This graphic novel is set in the 1970s.

A Chinese Life by Philippe Otie and Li Kunwu. This graphic novel is set in 1940s onwards, under Mao Zedong.

Playing by the book: It’s interesting to see what’s been translated and sells – both in terms of being translated from and into Chinese. What other Chinese children’s literature would you like to see available for English language audiences?

Helen Wang:I’d like to see a wider range of titles that show us different aspects of the Chinese experience from a child’s point of view. How about a Chinese version of “Diary of a Wimpy Kid”? Something that tells us what it’s like being a child in China today?

From the list of bestsellers, you can see that there are school stories, animal stories, naughty boy stories, and stories about children having adventures, just like there are here in the UK. I’d like to see some more stories that are about what it’s like to be a young person growing up in China or in the Chinese diaspora. I recently read The Ventriloquist’s Daughter by Man-chiu Lin, which is a wonderful story of a young girl’s struggle to establish her own identity as she grows up – I think this would work very well in English. You can read a sample of this (translated by me) in the new Found in Translation Anthology here on pages 57-71.

Playing by the book: Thank you so much Helen. My reading list has grown exponentially! I’m very grateful that you’ve shared your knowledge of Chinese children’s literature today, and I especially want to thank you for enabling – with your translation – the story Bronze and Sunflower to to find another fan, another home inside me and no doubt many other English language speakers and readers.

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Sharing something beautiful which means a great deal to you can be an awkward, even embarrassing thing to do. It can feel like going out on a limb. You take the risk of appearing sentimental and perhaps even slightly loopy.

Quite why this should be the case, I don’t know. After all, in trying to offer a special moment or experience, all the giver wants is for you to feel something of the same joy, calm, delight and warmth. But it’s a vulnerable moment, full of potential for dreams to be trampled on.

As a parent I’ve sometimes found myself in the situation where, just for a moment , I want my kids to take me seriously , to meet me as a friend and to fall in love with what I’ve fallen in love with. Don’t get me wrong, of course I want them to have their own opinions and discover their own places and times of magic. But I also want to gift them moments of golden glow inside them, serve up nuggets of warmth that will stay with them always, through bad times and good when remembering times and places that are somehow beautiful.

It happens a lot with books of course – I’ll start books I loved as a child with bated breath: What will the kids make of them? Sometimes it happens with music, and also locations with views or spaces that take my breath away or inspire excitement or awe.

And so when I opened When Dad Showed Me the Universe written by Ulf Stark, illustrated by Eva Eriksson and translated by Julia Marshall I knew the story would speak to me.

A father decides that his child is old enough to be shown the universe, and takes him on a night-time walk through the town and out into an open space far from street lights where they can watch the stars together and marvel in the sparkle and space and silence. But what does the child make of all this?

The bright intensity of beauty is made bearable with bucket loads of dead pan humour. An extra pair of socks is needed because – it turns out – the universe is pretty cold (‘“Minus 263 degrees,” Dad said‘). The universe turns out to be fairly easy to find; with echoes of Neverland “the way there was straight ahead and then to the left.” And when they finally arrive at the destination picked out by Dad, “I had a feeling I’d been here before, that this was the place where people walked their dogs.”

Indeed, there is a final twist to the story which brings everyone back from interstellar dreams to everyday reality with quite a bump, brilliantly adding a layer of laughter to a moment of intimacy and affection; Father and child do get to create a special shared memory that will stay with them all their lives, but it may not be quite that which the Dad had anticipated!

Pitch-perfect words deserve exceptional illustrations, and Eva Eriksson’s soft and dreamy pencil work only enriches Stark’s text. Muted tones predominate, with the exception of an intense blue for the night time sky, giving those spreads extra impact. The story is told as a first person narrative – the child retelling the entire experience, and the illustrations also emphasise the child’s view of the world; (s)he is often looking in a different direction to his/her father, picking up on other things of interest, whether that’s the liquorice on sale in the shop or the abandoned trike in the park, I couldn’t help smiling broadly at the different facial expressions in father and child when first they gaze at the vastness of the stars above them.

[I think it is worth noting that although some may assume the child is a boy, the text does not assert this. Indeed, given the first person narrative, there’s no need for gendered pronouns when referring to the child, who could in fact be a girl. This possibility is one of the great things about this story and translation.]

When Dad Showed Me the Universe is a very clever, moving and extremely funny book about parental love. In fact, in sharing it with you here on the blog, I feel a little like the father in this beautiful book. I so want you too to gasp in delight, smile brightly and feel that sense of magic settling on you when you read this. I can’t give you starlight, but I can wholeheartedly recommend you find a copy of When Dad Showed Me the Universe without delay.

*************

The hilarity in When Dad Showed Me the Universe has ensured that it is a book my kids have wanted to share multiple times. But already after the first reading they could see my thinking: Were they going to get to see the universe too?

First I prepared…

A perfect universe-gazing pack

A tarpaulin (to put on the ground in case it is damp)

A camping mat for each person

A sleeping bag for each person

A red torch – we used a back bike light, but you could use a normal torch with red acetate taped over or held in place using an elastic band. By using red light, your eyes will adjust more quickly to the darkness.

Hot water bottles and hats for extra cosiness

This pack was left in the garden shed whilst I kept an eye on the weather forecast for a few days, looking out for a clear night. When one came along, I was all ready to go into slightly crazy mode and tell my kids that even though they had their pyjamas on, we were going into the garden in the dark.

I didn’t take many photos as the idea was to disconnect from all the buzz we normally have going on in our lives, and just to relax watching the stars twinkling.

We were super snug and spent about 40 minutes just gazing, sometimes chatting, sometimes just being quiet.

I’m no good at night-time photography (see above). What we saw wasn’t quite like this…

…but we did all feel a sense of awe and peace in a way that took me by surprise.

We didn’t listen to any music whilst we were outside, but here is a marvellously celestial playlist:

When I Look Into the Night Sky by Lori Henriques

How Big by Eric Herman

When You Wish Upon a Star from Disney’s Pinocchio

Starlight, Starbrighy by LuLu and the TomCat

You might also like to take a look at this informative list of music (both classical and pop) inspired by astronomy, written by Andrew Franknoi.

Other activities which could go well with reading When Dad Showed Me the Universe include:

The whole variety of ideas included in the official Teaching Notes for this book, created by Gecko Press.

Watching a meteor shower. Here’s a great video on The Kid Should See This on how, where and when to do exactly this.

Asking your friends and neighbours for their tips on the most beautiful place they know nearby, and then committing to visiting it. Maybe you’ll discover new places and make new memories. I found even just asking myself (and the kids) what’s the most beautiful place near where I live got us thinking hard and engaged in quite lively and at times suprising conversation.

What’s your happiest memory from going somewhere special with a parent or a child?

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of this book from the publisher.

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This time last week I was dismantling the book den I’d built out of books. This time next year, maybe I’ll be dismantling a CASTLE built from books: over on Twitter @storyvilled alerted me to a lovely little book by Bernard Clavel (the translation is not credited to an individual), illustrated by Yan Nascimbene with the enticing title Castle of Books.

Sadly both author and illustrator are now deceased. Clavel was a French writer for both adults and young people who began his working life as a pastry cook apprentice, not becoming a full time writer until in his 40s. Nascimbene was born in France but studied at the School of Visual Arts in New York. Specialising in watercolour, he illustrated over 60 books and 300 book covers. You can see lots of examples of his work here.

But getting back to my dreams of building a castle with books, Clavel and Nascimbene’s picture book is a quiet meditation on turning dreams into reality. Benjamin has always wanted to live in a castle whilst his father, a poet, is always looking for just the right word or turn or phrase to include in his latest work.

Living in a house packed to the rafters with books, Benjamin realises he has the bricks he needs for his castle on the shelves in front of him and so sets to work taking books from the back of shelves (behind the second row of books at the front) so that his father won’t notice what is going on.

Once the castle is complete his father visits and is delighted because he rediscovers just the books he was looking for to help him with his latest poem. gently removing those ‘bricks’ from the castle walls.

Without realising it, Benjamin has helped his father, by bringing books hidden from view out into the light (I recognised myself here for I definitely discovered some long forgotten favourites last week as I handled all my books).

A gentle flight of fancy, with subtle and soothing illustrations, Castle of Books (unfortunately out of print) is a charming vision of a father-son relationship, and a testament to the inspiration to be found in books.

I’m so grateful to @storyvilled, who blogs about books for children and young people at https://specsisters.wordpress.com/ for telling me about this delightful book. If you know of a book you’d think I like, please don’t hesitate to get in touch!

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Is there a better way to start the new year than by introducing you to a book which will take you somewhere you’ve likely not visited via picture books before, is illustrated by the first Asian recipient of the most prestigious awards in children’s literature, the Hans Christian Andersen Award, and is about to be published for the first time in the UK with its original illustrations?

The Little Black Fish written by Samad Behrangi, translated by Azita Rassi and illustrated by Farshid Mesghali is perhaps the most famous children’s book of all time back in its home country, Iran.

As anyone who’s spent time with children knows, the littlest people can ask the biggest questions, and so it is with the little black fish in this story who wants to find out more about life outside of the pool where he and his family have always lived. Just because the family have always lived a certain way, why shouldn’t this brave and curious fish extend his horizons and set out to explore beyond his known world?

As the fish travels downstream he sees incredible sights the like of which he could never before have imagined. He also faces some terrible dangers. Will the fish survive to see his dream – the wide open ocean? Will his story of inquisitiveness and desire for freedom inspire others?

Behrangi’s story took on great political significance in Iran after it was published, read by many adults as a political allegory (you can find out more here). Indeed the message was so powerful, the book was banned in pre-revolutionary Iran. Whilst this historical background gives the book an additional charge for adults, younger readers in 2015 can enjoy this short story as an encouraging tale about believing in oneself, about learning from personal experience, and about not being afraid to be different.

The Little Black Fish won the First Graphic Prize at Sixth International Children Books’ Fair (1968) in Bologna for its illustrations by Farshid Mesghali. The stylish bold textured prints in a limited range of colours are beautifully reproduced and bound in this smart edition from Tiny Owl Publishing. Their apparent simplicity suggests something both childlike and timeless.

Inspired by the style of illustrations in The Little Black Fish we set about creating fish prints using plasticine (oil based, non permanent modelling clay). This was a great activity for giving old and manky plasticine one last shot at life!

We squished together lots of old pieces, and created “blanks” of different sizes. These blanks were turned into fish shapes using scissors to cut them, and then decorated with impressions made using butter (blunt) knives, forks and sharpened pencils.

Top tips for printing with plasticine

Plasticine is more forgiving than lino or styrofoam for printing with little kids; it works really well when the inked design is squished a little bit into the paper.

If it’s a bit old or hard for little hands to work, drop it into a bowl of hot water or run it under the hot water tap for 10-20 seconds. This will soften it up and make it much more malleable and easier to press implements into.

Pencils work really well as mini rolling pins for little hands to roll out the modelling clay.

Once the plasticine is in the shape you desire, you can put it in the fridge for an hour or two to firm up before printing.

If you use poster paint or water-based printing ink, this can simply be washed off the plasticine afterwards. Because the plasticine is oil based, water is repelled and once the ink has been washed off you can dry the modelling clay and reuse it (something you can’t do with styrofoam or lino!).

Buttons, lego bricks, cocktail sticks, forks, hair grips, seed pods, pencils and shells are all useful tools for making impressions in the plasticine.

Once our prints were made we worked on some net-themed frames for them, making use of some of the cardboard collected over the Christmas parcel and present season. Here’s a short animated tutorial I made to show you how we did it:

Here are some of our finished and framed prints of fish exploring the wider world!

Whilst weaving and printing we listened to:

Persian songs for kids on youtube including

Some Iranian folk music and dance including

We also watched several videos of Viguen, “King of Iranian Pop”, including

Other activities which would go well with reading The Little Black Fish include:

Creating a fish from paper lanterns – here’s a lovely looking tutorial from Live. Craft. Love.

Making folded paper fish using this tutorial from Buggy and Buddy. There’s something about how these look which reminds me of the print patterns created by Mesghali.

Turning toilet rolls into fish, with this tutorial from No Time for Flash Cards.

I’m delighted that Tiny Owl Publishing will be bringing us more translated Iranian children’s books in the coming months (although I do hope that future books will fully credit the illustrator and translator on the front cover of books, not just inside). What other unsung heroes in the international picture book world would you recommend I look out for – authors and illustrators who are famous in their home countries but who haven’t had wide recognition in the English speaking world?

Finally, you might notice things look a little different on the blog today. Over Christmas I updated the blog so that it should now be fully mobile-platform friendly; if you want to view this blog on your phone or tablet it should now be much easier to navigate and more pleasant to look at as the text and images are fully scalable. I’ll also take this opportunity to highlight Playing by the book can be found on twitter @playbythebook, Facebook, Pinterest and even (in a very small way) on Youtube – please feel free to follow me wherever it suits you.

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of The Little Black Fish from the publisher.

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Although there’s something of a holiday / celebration at the end of this month to enjoy first (!), I’m already thinking about next year, planning projects, drawing dreams and envisaging adventures, not least of all here on Playing by the book (do let me know if there’s something you’d particularly love to see here in 2015).

This forward and full-of-hope looking at the future, with plans for play and learning, is also found in the latest offering (in English) for fans of two of my very favourite book characters: Findus, Food and Fun – Seasonal crafts and nature activities is a calendar of craftiness from my long term Swedish sweethearts, Findus and Pettson, or rather from their creator, Sven Nordqvist, assisted by Eva-Lena Larsson, Kennert Daniels and translator Nathan Large.

Findus is a cheeky, cheerful cat on the ramshackle farm owned by grumpy but loveable Pettson. Stories of their life together are full of mishaps, mysterious little creatures called muckles, kindness and compassion. The illustrations are scrumptious, drawn with delicious humour and attention to detail. I don’t think there is another series of books which I’ve dedicated so much time to on Playing by the book. Perhaps that alone tells you how wonderful I think these books are and how much I want to press them into the palms of everyone and anyone who stumbles upon my blog.

This latest book isn’t a story book, but rather a compilation of crafts and activities very much in the spirit of Findus and Pettson, with lots of outdoor exploration, tinkering, making, pottering, discovering and being resourceful. The crafts are themed by calendar month and richly illustrated with Findus, Pettson, chickens and muckles getting involved and trying out the projects at hand. The choice of crafts is wide ranging and includes the unusual; from propagating succulents, to using ants to dye bluebells, to making your own weather station to weaving a rug, there’s a mixture play and exploration driven by interacting with the natural world and/or being inspired by the farmstead on which Findus and Pettson live.

I suspect many readers will come to this wonderful book because they are already solid fans of Nordqvist’s lovely world where problems are solved with kindness. cooperation and respect. However, if you’ve not met Findus and Pettson before there’s still an enormous amount to enjoy in this book; the crafts are quirky, sometimes a little bit crazy, and ideal for anyone who wants to encourage natural play and exploration.

The first project my girls chose to try was making necklaces out of dried beans; first you have to soak them overnight and then you can thread them onto thread (as the book advises, dental floss is good because it is extra smooth and slidey). One packet of mixed dried beans meant for soup were sorted into bowls and left to soak:

Next morning the girls were intrigued to see how the beans had changed, and were soon up and running with threading them into necklaces.

With lots of opportunities for learning about science, plant life and even maths (via patterns on the necklaces), this project – like so many in the book – could be used for more structured learning, as well being simply an enjoyable experience. These lovely chains of beads could be used as alternative Christmas decorations too – perhaps alongside popcorn strings.

Whilst making our necklaces we listened to:

Black Bean Soup by David Soul

Beans In My Ears by Serendipity Singers

Oats and Beans and Barley – there are loads of versions, but I like this one for its melodeon

Findus, Food and Fun: Seasonal crafts and nature activities is so packed with activities I won’t suggest any more here, other than to also point you to another craft book from the same publisher, Making Woodland Crafts by Patrick Harrison, a trainer of Forest School leaders. Many of the activities in this book are ones I can imagine Findus, Pettson and kids and families who love the outdoors relishing.

What nature crafts have you enjoyed recently? When did you last take a book outdoors to read under (or up) a tree?

Don’t forget to leave me a comment if you’ve any ideas / suggestions about how you’d like Playing by the book to develop in 2015

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of Findus, Food and Fun: Seasonal crafts and nature activities from the publisher.

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Lately — and by accident — I’ve been reading Spanish versions of many French-authored children’s picture books. For some reason, most of the books I’ve recently bought from bookstores in Lima and Buenos Aires to use for storytelling in Spanish were translated from French authors. I didn’t realize it at the time, but once I started to read them together I realized that they shared a strong message about the “we” instead of the “me.”

This prompted an informal search for other books that would have the same underlining message. For example, Pedro y la Luna by Alice Brière-Hacquet and Célia Chauffrey is about a boy who wants to bring the moon to his mom. To do so, he has to involve his entire community and beyond. Then there is the Portuguese story O Grande Rabanete by Tatiana Belinky. In it, a grandfather decides to plant radishes and progressively needs help with the harvest because of the radishes’ large size.

I then tried to think about other books that send the message of doing things together for a common cause and couldn’t think of many other than the classic stories “The Pied piper of Hamelin” and “The Little Red Hen.” In the 1990s there was The Rainbow Fish by Swiss author-illustrator Marcus Pfister. A fish with the shiniest scales in the sea refuses to share his wealth and then becomes lonely. He rediscovers community only once he shares his scales. And of course, there is also The Lorax by Dr. Seuss, a book published in 1971 that depicts what happens to a verdant land when the “Once-ler” chops down all the truffula trees and drives the (Seussian) animals away. The last hope to rebuild the environment — and the community — is for a boy to plant the last remaining truffula tree seed.

So much of children’s literature, especially today, is about common things that happen to kids, such as the boy a lost his bear and found it swapped in the forest in Where’s My Teddy? by Jez Alborough, or the boy who misbehaves with his mom in No, David! by David Shannon, or the classic Alexander and the Terrible, Horrible, no Good Very Bad Day by Judith Viorst. The list is endless.

All this made me think about the often repeated phrase, “literature is life.” So, are these books a reflection of our society? Are children’s books in other societies a reflection of a more “communal” (we) society instead of a more self-centered (me) society? Or is it that younger children relate better to stories that have more of a personal narrative tone? Can anybody think about books that transmit this message in their original languages?

The post Books that inspire community appeared first on The Horn Book.

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So much trouble in this world could be avoided if we all simply shutted up when we did not know whereof we spoke but here I go. I have never read Alfred Ollivant’s Bob, Son of Battle, but Lydia Davis’s explanation of the changes she made for a new New York Review of Books edition makes me eager to read the original if only to defend its honour honor.

In her afterword, Davis writes that “I did not want Ollivant’s powerful story to be forgotten simply because it was difficult to read.” (She said ominously.) Davis goes on to explain that she translated the Cumbrian dialect used heavily in the 1898 original and then thought oh, the hell with it, let’s fix this sucker:

“I decided that I would not only change the speech of the characters but also change the way the story was told, just enough so that almost everything could be understood without any problem, and there would be nothing to get in the way of the story.”

Trifles! I’m reminded of a letter Elizabeth once shared with me from a somewhat overconfident applicant for an editorial position who included with her letter Xeroxed pages of Steig and Lobel marked with her recommended word substitutions.

Here, for example, is the first sentence/paragraph of Ollivant’s (from the Gutenberg edition):

“The sun stared brazenly down on a gray farmhouse lying, long and low in the shadow of the Muir Pike; on the ruins of peel-tower and barmkyn, relics of the time of raids, it looked; on ranges of whitewashed outbuildings; on a goodly array of dark-thatched ricks.”

Here is Davis’s:

“The sun stared boldly down on a gray farmhouse lying long and low in the in the shadow of the sharp summit of Muir Pike; it shone on the ruins of a fortified tower and a rampart, left from the time of the Scottish raids; on rows of white-washed outbuildings; on a crowd of dark-thatched haystacks.”

Why bold for brazen, I wonder, but even more I wonder why Davis, clearly on a labor of love, doesn’t trust  today’s children to read past the same difficulties she had with the book in her own childhood: “The odd thing is that because the story is so powerful, you can read right over these hard words and puzzling expressions and not mind, because you are so eager to know what happens next. That is what I did when I first read it.” Readers do this all the time. Feeling that a book knows something that you don’t is one of the prime pleasures of reading.

Neither Ollivant’s original nor Davis’s adaptation are about to start a new craze for old Bob (I do admire NYRB’s optimistic publishing program), but I suspect that if I were the kind of kid who was going to read it, I would also be the kind of kid who would want to read the original, which is just what Davis has inspired me to do.

 

The post There’s bold but then there’s brazen. appeared first on The Horn Book.

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Regular readers of my blog will know that I’m passionate about children’s books in translation, and so today I’m especially glad to have the opportunity to give one lucky reader copies of 2 translated books I believe are exceptional: I have a worldwide giveaway of The Cat who Came in off the Roof by Annie M. G. Schmidt, translated by David Colmer and The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, translated by Laura Watkinson.

These are two of my family’s very favourite books: they’re so good we’ve read them multiple times in both their original Dutch, and in translation!

I summarised what I think of both books yesterday in this post – but basically, these are outstanding books in any language, and both have received rave reviews here in the UK, as well as back home in the Netherlands.

The nitty gritty

This giveaway is open WORLDWIDE.

To enter, simply leave a comment on this blog post.

For extra entries you can:

(1) Tweet about this giveaway, perhaps using this text:
Win 2 exceptional children’s novels great for sharing as a family over on @playbythebook’s blog http://www.playingbythebook.net/?p=30158

(2) Share this giveaway on your Facebook page or blog

You must leave a separate comment for each entry for them to count.

The winner will be chosen at random using random.org.

The giveaway is open for two weeks, and closes on Wednesday 30th July 2014 5pm UK time. I will contact the winner via email. If I do not hear back from the winner within one week of emailing them, I will re-draw as appropriate (please note this if you are likely to be on holiday the first week of August).

Best of luck and happy reading!

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To celebrate the publication earlier this month of The Cat Who Came in Off the Roof by Annie M. G. Schmidt, translated by David Colmer, today I’m sharing my 5 favourite Dutch children’s books which are available in English (being a Dutch-English bilingual family this is something we know a little bit about ).

But that’s not all!

Thanks to award-winning translator David Colmer you’ll also be able to find out about some of the great Dutch titles just waiting to be translated. (Hint HINT Publishers! )

I reviewed The Cat who Came in off the Roof by Annie M. G. Schmidt, translated by David Colmer a couple of weeks ago (here’s my review in full) but my elevator pitch for this book is: This is a timeless, warm-hearted, thought-provoking and charming read all about one shy person’s struggle to stand up to power, alongside a clever exploration of the very essence of what it means to be human. And yes, there are lots of cats involved. It’s also very funny and written with a lightness of touch which ensures readers will devour this book despite its meaty themes. Last week one newspaper book reviewer called this brilliant book her “find of the year to date“. It might just turn out to be yours too!

An epic adventure involving knights, bravery and brotherhood, The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, translated by Laura Watkinson tells of a gripping quest full of excitement and peril; it speaks volumes that this book was named the best children’s book ever in its homeland. A young boy has almost completed the tasks he must undertake to become a knight, but when a stranger requests his help the boy cannot turn down the plea, even if it means abandoning his long held ambition to be knighted. He is tasked with delivering a secret letter to the King across the Great Mountains, a letter which holds the fate of an entire kingdom within its words. Fans of Tolkien or Arthurian legends will love this book, with its thrilling action, and an epic landscape with soaring mountains and mysterious forests. Chivalry, courage and fabulous characters abound this is a hugely enjoyable read to share with all the family. You can read my interview with the translator Laura Watkinson here.

The Day My Father Became a Bush by Joke van Leeuwen, translated by Bill Nagelkerke is a tender and yet funny and unsentimental story about a refugee child forced to leave her home country because of war. Whilst it is certainly thought provoking and moving, the darker side of the story is finely balanced with humour and pastries (the child’s father is a pastry chef – so there are plenty of excuses for enjoying this book with a choux bun or slice of mille-feuille!)

“A brilliant, eerily engrossing evocation of war as it brushes up against youth—a harsh slice of the world during a mean piece of history.” (Kirkus)

Mister Orange by Truus Matti, translated by Laura Watkinson first came to my attention early this year when it won the 2014 Mildred L. Batchelder Award

With one of the best openings I’ve read in a long while this is a moving story about the power of imagination, loss and longing. Set in New York during the Second World War it follows the hopes and fears of Linus, a teenage boy who steps into the shoes of his older brother, a soldier who has left to fight in Europe. Comics play an important role in this book, as does the redemptive power of art; (true) details of Dutch artist Piet Mondrian’s final years in the Big Apple are interwoven into Linus’ life, with evocative period description and a thoughtful exploration of growing-up.

From one of the most recently tranlated books to one that has been around for 44 years, Children on the Oregon Trail by An Rutgers van der Loeff, translated by Roy Edwards is a tale of endurance and skill following a family of orphaned children travelling west across America as pioneers in the 1840s. This enthralling story is based loosely on a real family of pioneer orphans, and if you or your kids have enjoyed the Laura Ingalls Wilder books or simply like stories where children show ingenuity and maturity without adults around, then do give this book a try. In fact, I’d recommend any book by Rutgers van der Loeff (several were translated in the 1950s and ’60s) for she really knows how to write adrenalin fuelled stories with a keen eye for the wider world.

Now over to David for his recommendations about Dutch children’s books still waiting to hit English language bookshelves:

Something else by Annie M.G. Schmidt.

[David has translated several books by the person many would call the Queen of Dutch children's literature, including a collection of Schmidt's poems, A Pond full of Ink, which has received much praise in the US /Zoe] ‘Wiplala‘ for instance and ‘Wiplala Again‘, a very funny two-book series about an elf-like creature called Wiplala, who has been banished for magical incompetence and plays havoc in a typical Schmidt-style single-parent household. ‘Wiplala’ was originally written in the 1950s but came out in a new edition with illustrations by Philip Hopman in 2007. A film version is currently in production.

‘Dunno’ by Joke van Leeuwen. [Dutch title: 'Kweenie']

Brilliant integration of text, typography and illustrations in this story about a character who falls out of a bedtime story and the little girl who tries to return him to his parents. Trouble is, there are so many stories… Which one was it? A children’s story about story telling itself sounds way too postmodern, but this book works on every level. More information about this book can be found on the website of the Dutch Foundation for Literature: http://www.letterenfonds.nl/en/book/291/dunno

‘Annabel Lee in the Dead of Night’ by Imme Dros, [Dutch title: 'Annetje Lie in de holst van de nacht'] with black-and-white illustrations by Margriet Heymans.

This is a hallucinatory story about a little girl in an uncertain world whose feverish dreams take on a life of their own. It’s eerie and strange, but my own daughter loved it and read it over and over. It was published in English in the 90s, but is now out of print. If nothing else, a new translation could respect the author’s wishes and call the main character “Annabel Lee” in English, as a homage to Edgar Allan Poe, whose work inspired the original.

Ingrid Godon and Toon Tellegen’s I Wish [Dutch title: Ik wou]

Maybe an art book more than a children’s book, Godon’s emotionally-charged naive portraits are wedded to Tellegen’s prose portraits to form a moving whole. And while I’m on the subject of Tellegen, his poetry and animal stories have been rightly praised in the UK, but his other work deserves publication too. Sneaking in another title, Pikkuhenki, with illustrations by Marit Törnqvist, is a gem in the fairy-tale genre with a great story about a tiny Russian witch who discovers that she has enormous powers and overthrows an evil tsar.

And that brings me to my last recommendation, another book my daughter couldn’t get enough of, insisting I it read over and over for her bedtime stories: Fairy Tales from the Low Countries by Eelke de Jong and Hans Sleutelaar, illustrated by Peter Vos. I’m partial to fairy tales, true, but the problem is that most collections are either poorly written or poorly translated or both. That’s not the case here, where the style is always clear and beautifully fluent, a joy to read out loud. This book reminds me of Italo Calvino’s Italian folktales, and besides variations on familiar Germanic themes, there are plenty of stories you’ve never heard before. My favourite: “One Hunchback Mocks Another”. Warning: not for Disney fans.

**********************

My thanks go to David for his excellent choice of books waiting for English translations. I do hope one or two publishers might be tempted by his suggestions!

I feel a little bit guilty for almost reaching the end of this post without mentioning Miffy or The Diary of Anne Frank – perhaps the two biggest exports from the world of Dutch children’s books. There are also many other books I’ve not been able to include in an attempt to keep the post from running on past everyone’s bedtime, but let me end by pointing out three publisher who have made a name for themselves publishing (amongst other things) brilliant Dutch children’s books in translation: Pushkin Press and Gecko Press with a special honorary mention to Book Island who have published several great books translated from Flemish by Belgian authors and illustrators.

Come back tomorrow when you could win a copy of The Cat who Came in off the Roof by Annie M. G. Schmidt, translated by David Colmer AND The Letter for the King by Tonke Dragt, translated by Laura Watkinson! Two of my favourite books in any language, I’m sure you’ll love them too.

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Mr Tibbles – a shy reporter on the local newspaper – has been threatened with the sack. It’s perhaps no surprise: Mr Tibbles is mad about cats, and all his stories end up revolving around felines one way or another. What his editor wants, however, is news!

An act of kindness brings Mr Tibbles into contact with Minoe, a rather strange young woman who appears to be able to talk to cats. Through the town’s network of feline pets and strays Minoe starts starts to deliver interesting titbits of exclusive news to Mr Tibbles; cats across the city overhear all sorts of conversations often revealing juicy gossip and insider information, and when Minoe learns of these pieces of news from kitty comrades, she passes them on to her friend the reporter.

Mr Tibble’s job is looking up until he uncovers information which could lead to the downfall of a local powerful businessman. Will the reporter be brave enough to expose the evil goings on? Will he be believed, when his only witnesses are pussy cats?

A funny and yet quietly profound tale of courage, friendship and what it really means to be human, The Cat Who Came in off the Roof, by Annie M. G. Schmidt, translated by David Colmer is a gem of a story. Ideal for fans of The Hundred and One Dalmatians, or cross-species tales of identity such as Stellaluna or Croc and Bird, this book would make an especially good class read-aloud, with lots of opportunities to discuss what life looks like from different perspectives, helping readers and listeners walk in another’s shoes, as well as perhaps learning a thing or to about overcoming shyness, and how to stand up for what you believe in.

From the mangy, feisty stray cat who you end up rooting for, to the hilarious school cat with a penchant for history lessons and a slight;y different (some might say out-dated) understanding of the term ‘news’, Schmidt has populated her story with a super array of characters. The narrative beautifully unfolds with unseen and fine tuning, climaxing with an exciting and rich ending which is deeply satisfying even though not everything is tied up neatly and not all strands end happily. Despite plenty of kittens and purring, this book never patronises its readership.

Knowing the original Dutch language version as we do as a family, I can also comment on the gorgeous translation. Colmer has wittily and cleverly translated linguistic and cultural jokes. His phrase ‘miaow-wow’ for when the cats meet up for a big parley is genius and has now entered our family parlance. If I nitpick I might personally have chosen -thorpe rather than -thorn for the Dutch -doorn, when translating the town’s name but I feel mean mentioning this as Colmer’s voice is pitch-perfect; at no point will you notice the text as a translation for it reads authentically and smoothly.

This must-read book will make you laugh out loud (whether you are a dog person or a cat fan). It will make you feel like for a brief moment you’ve witnessed and understood the best of humanity. It may also make you rather nervous next time you find a cat sitting ever so quietly next to you whilst you are having a private conversation!

I do so hope Pushkin Press are now thinking about translating Schmidt’s earlier work, Ibbeltje, which shares many characteristics with The Cat Who Came in off the Roof and has the added advantage of brilliant illustrations by another glittering star in the Dutch children’s literature firmament: Fiep Westendorp.

For reasons which will become clear upon reading this charming and magical book Minoe not only can speak the language of cats, she is also known to climb trees when dogs approach. It took about a nanosecond for M to decide she wanted to play-by-this-particular-book by climbing as many different trees as she could one afternoon at the weekend. So, armed with a local map (printed from http://www.openstreetmap.org/) we set off to map all the local trees good for climbing in.

Each tree we climbed we identified (it seems that around us oaks, ash and willow are the best climbing trees).

We remembered the last time we deliberately climbed trees in order to read on location.

Getting out and climbing a tree? Reading a truly terrific book? What more could you ask for as a lovely way to while a way a few hours!

Whilst climbing we weren’t listening to music, but these tracks could go with reading The Cat Who Came in off the Roof:

This Cat’s On A Hot Tin Roof by Brian Setzer

Everybody Wants to be a Cat from The Aristocats film

The Cat theme from Prokofiev’s Peter and the Wolf

Other activities which you might be inspired to try alongside reading The Cat Who Came in off the Roof include:

Reading more books in more trees. The very first I’d have to recommend are the Toby books by Timothee de Fombelle, about an entire world of miniature people having giant adventures in an oak tree.

Walking around your neighbourhood and greeting the cats you come across. Could you create a backstory for each one? What are they called? What do they get up to when you’re not there?

Writing a family newspaper. This is potentially a super project for the summer holidays – and you can get some great tips and downloadables to get you going from this post over on Playful Learning.

When did you last climb a tree? What secrets might your cat be able to tell me ?

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of The Cat who Came in off the Roof from the publisher.

And briefly…. thank you with all my heart to all of you who commented on my last post, or got in touch via email, phone, snail mail and more. Life goes on and plots are being hatched and plans being laid. As and when I can reveal more I’ll be sure to let you know the latest.

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Have you and your kids ever attempted to grow your own vegetables and failed miserably? Maybe the weather’s contrived against you? Or the slugs have slithered wild and destroyed your crops?

If so, perhaps Findus Plants Meatballs by Sven Nordqvist will put a wry smile on your face.

Pettson, a crochety but ultimately kind and charming old man lives on a small homestead in the countryside, with a mischievous cat, Findus, as his only real family. Spring has arrived and it’s time to plant their vegetable patch.

But try as they might, the odds are not in their favour. First the chickens dig up the newly planted seeds. Then a neighbour’s pig escapes and runs riot. Should Findus and Pettson just give up on vegetables altogether? (Many a child reader/listener might well cheer at this point!)

Slapstick humour abounds in this seasonal tale full of optimism and utter chaos. It’s is also great for starting discussions about where food comes from (tying in with the primary school ‘field-to-fork’ topic rather nicely).

Fans already familiar with Pettson and Findus (this is the seventh Findus and Pettson book now translated into English and published by Hawthorne Press) will delight in familiar tropes; the threat of the fox, the problematic fellow farmer Gustavsson, the crazy DIY projects and the mysterious mini magical folk. If you’re new to this utterly delightful Swedish import the ramshackle illustrations teeming with life and laughter will quickly win you over.

You’ll be infinitely richly rewarded for spending time pouring of the illustrations; even in choosing just a few cameos to share with you today, we’ve discovered many more visual jokes, even though this must be the 20th time we’ve read the book.

Charismatic characters, high jinks, and heart-warming friendship combined with witty, surprising and satisfying illustrations all add up to another winner from Sven Nordqvist.

We’ve been reading this funny book down on our allotment in between planting our vegetables and flowers for this year.

And just like Findus, the girls said they wanted to see what would happen if they planted meatballs. So I called their bluff, and said that of course they could plant meatballs (along with carrots, onions and beans)…

And thus a new family dinner was created! A field of mashed potato made the most fertile ground for planting sauted onions, carrots, steamed beans, and – of course – some extra special meatballs.

Whilst planting our meatballs we listened to:

On top of spaghetti (all covered in cheese, I lost my poor meatball when somebody sneezed), here sung by Tom Glazer

One Meatball by Fred Mollin (from the film Ratatouille) – here’s an older version (lovely, but not quite a jazzy as the Disney version):

My Favorite Meatball by Danna Banana (Meatballs the world over unite!)

Other great activities to go along with reading Findus Plants Meatballs include:

Exploring the garden activities over on NurtureStore. Cathy produces handy month by month guides to getting planting, playing and harvesting with your family.

Making some bird houses to put up in your garden. Pettson and Findus’s world is full of little cottages up in the trees and you might find inspiration to add one or two to your outdoor space on this Pinterest board.

Creating your own flock of chickens out of old plastic pots. Pettson’s chicks are white, but I do think these from hellokids.com have the right sort of attitude and funkiness to be friends (?!) with Pettson and Findus.

Reading How to Grow a Dinosaur by Caryl Hart, illustrated by Ed Eaves. After all, if you can plant meatballs, why not dinosaurs?

Have you any vegetable planting horror stories you can share with me? Or enormously successful tales of child-friendly seed sowing?

Disclaimer: I was sent a free review copy of this book by the publisher.

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Do you think there is an age at which you’ll stop reading aloud to your children?

Have you already reached that stage?

Why might you keep reading to an older child who can already read themselves?

These are some of the questions I’ve been contemplating as part of a discussion, initiated by Clara Vulliamy, about reading to big kids. I’ve also been thinking about books which I think work especially well as read-alouds to big kids, kids who can read perfectly well themselves.

The absurd, magical, funny collection of tales which make up The Good Little Devil and Other Tales by Pierre Gripari, with illustrations by Puig Rosado, translated by Sophie Lewis are curious and intriguing, and make for especially interesting read-alouds to “big” kids.

Adults in these fairy tales are often foolish and fooled, children save the day, taking everything in their stride, there is great humour, wit and cheekiness, as well as the occasional tinge of gruesomeness. Plot twists and turns which might leave my grown-up sensibilities unsatisfied perfectly resemble stories children will tell themselves, with little psychology, minimal internal reason, but plenty of pace. Talking potatoes, giants and shoes in love, witches hiding in cupboards – this book is full of off-beat, silly and enjoyable stories.

But one of the reasons why I think this book works particularly well as a read-aloud, as a shared experience with an adult, is that the book – translated from the French – is full of richness and new horizons that are easier to explore with someone else along for the ride. The book is set in Paris, and has a distinctly Gallic flavour (from the illustration featuring a naked female chest, to a helter skelter ride through French history, via a strong, albeit often tongue-in-cheek Roman Catholic presence), and whilst the wackiness of the tales will be enjoyed by older children reading alone, I think lots that could be missed on a solo reading might be fruitfully explored and doubly enjoyed with a grown-up around.

Perhaps this all sounds a bit worthy and educational, and that’s not at all what I’m aiming at. Rather, I’m thinking about to what extent books are enjoyed with or without (some) background knowledge. The language and style of writing in this book is perfect for say 9 year olds to read themselves, (and it clearly is enjoyed by lots of children, having been translated into 17 languages, with more than 1.5 million copies sold around the world) but my experience of it was that it was a book which became considerably enriched by sharing it.

Library Mice says: “The Good Little Devil and Other Tales is the one book I’d recommend to any child of any age, from any country.”
Julia Eccleshare says: “Delightful trickery abounds in this collection of magical tales all of which are spiced with a sophisticated sense of humour and sharp wit.”
The Independent says: “[For] Readers of all ages who appreciate a good story and a kooky sense of humour“.

One aspect that my kids and I particularly enjoyed about The Good Little Devil and Other Tales was the discovery Gripari wrote these stories with children: Gripari created them along with kids who would sit with him outside his favourite cafe in Rue Broca, Paris in the 1960s. As Gripari writes in his afterword:

The stories in the collection were. thus, not written by Monsieur Pierre alone. They were improvised by him in collaboration with his listeners – and whoever has not worked in this way may struggle to imagine all that the children could contribute, from solid ideas to poetic discoveries and even dramatic situations, often surprisingly bold ones.

My kids were so excited by the idea that kids just liked them had helped a “real author” write a “real book”. It was an inspirational moment for them, and with a glint in their eyes they were soon asking how they could turn their stories into books.

And so it was I started to investigate ways to turn M and J’s own words and pictures, stories and illustrations into books of their own. I soon realised that I was not only finding ways to support my kids desire to write, I was also discovering ways to store all those creations of theirs I can’t bear to part with, as well as objects that could be turned into unique Christmas or birthday presents for family members.

Here are 7 ways to turn your child’s words and pictures into a book. Some of these approaches could also be used by classes or creative writing/art groups, to create publications that could be used for fundraising projects.

1. The slip-in book

Stationers and chemists sell a variety of display books that can be adapted for self publication. Choose the size you want and simply slip in your pictures and text! Photo albums often offer greater variety of binding, and come in many more sizes, so these are useful if you want to include documents which aren’t a standard size. Display books typically have either 20 or 40 pockets, giving you 40 or 80 pages in total. Depending on whether there is a separate pocket for a title page, you can use stickers to give your book a title.

Advantages: Very easy to produce, and cheap. Minimal printing required, and no typesetting needed! Older children can make these books themselves as all it requires is for them to slip the original into the binding.
Disadvantages: Only one copy of each book can be made this way (unless you photocopy the originals).
Cost: £ (Display books in my local stationers started at £2.50, and photo albums at £5 for larger ones)
Ideal for: Storage solutions, one-off books.

2. Comb bound

Many local stationers offer a cheap and quick option using comb binding. For this option you’ll need to prepare your images and texts so that they can be printed (normally at A4/letter size, not at smaller or nonstandard sizes), and this may involved scanning images and a certain amount of typesetting. Once you’ve prepared your document, binding can be very quick (a matter of minutes), and because you’ve prepared an electronic copy you can bind as many copies as you’d like. It’s possible to buy coil binders (£100-£300) and this might be an effective option for schools.

Advantages: Cheap and quick, good for multiple copies.
Disadvantages: Can look a bit “cheap” (I think slip in books look more appealing; they can look like real hard back books), can be a little flimsy.
Cost: £ (comb binding at my local stationers – Rymans, for UK folk – started at £3.49 for 25 sheets, going up to £7.49 for 450 sheets). Don’t forget you’ll have to include printing costs too.
Ideal for: short runs of books at a low price

3. Glue bound

Is there a university near you? If so, they will often have a binding service, aimed at students with dissertations, but open to the public too. If you’re looking for something which looks a little more like a paperback than a comb bound book, a glue bound book might be for you. Again, you’ll need to prepare your text and images so they can be printed, but once you’ve done that, you can print and bind as many copies as you like.

Glue binding (sometimes known as Thermo binding) is quick (often a while-you-wait) service, and you can often get your pages printed and bound at A5 size rather than A4 (making the finished product look more like a “real” book).

Advantages: Finished book can look quite a lot like a “real” book, which is very satisfying!
Disadvantages: Glue binding is considered “temporary” and so isn’t ideal for books which are going to be read very many times. Glue binding won’t work if you’ve very few pages in your book; most binders I’ve spoken to recommend an absolute minimum of 24 sides (12 pages).
Cost: ££ (glue binding at my local university was £7.50 per book). Don’t forget you’ll have to include printing costs too.
Ideal for: When you want a cheapish option which looks like a real book. University binderies are also often able to give some advice on typesetting and layout, so if you’re not confident about your skills in those areas.

4. Self published via Amazon’s CreateSpace

CreateSpace is a fairly easy tool to use to create paperback books. It has an extremely clear step by step process you can follow. There’s quite a variety of formats, both in terms of size, black and white printing or full colour, or cream paper instead of white (the former being better if you want to be dyslexia friendly, though this option is only available for black and white printing). To make your life much easier, you can download templates with much of the formatting done for you (for example margins set up correctly) – I’d definitely recommend doing this, though it isn’t a requirement. Once you’ve downloaded the template you’ll fill it in with your child’s writing and images, just like you would in a word processing document.

Both my kids have used the template and typed straight into it (rather than writing by hand and then me typing up their words). Adding images works just like it does in a word document, the only thing I’ve found you need to be careful of is making sure your images are of a high enough resolution. When you/your child has finished their document (perhaps with multiple stories and images) you need to upload your work as a print-ready .pdf, .doc, .docx, or .rt. CreateSpace then checks everything is ok before you go on to design your book cover.

Advantages: The CreateSpace step-by-step guide is thorough and pretty easy to use. The resulting books have definitely had the “wow” factor with my kids.
Disadvantages: For a whole variety of ethical reasons you might not want to deal with Amazon. Everything is done online so you may want to think about personal details. M has used a pen name, so her real name doesn’t appear online, and if you were publishing work by children in a school you might want to consider only using children’s first names, especially if the name of the school also appears on the book you create (this is less of a concern if you don’t make the book available for the public to buy).
Cost: ££ The cost to create the book is nil. The final purchase price depends partly on page number and the use of colour (the more pages, and the use of colour make books more expensive), and whether you want to sell book at cost or to make a profit. M’s book (64 pages, 6″x9″, full colour) has a public cost price of £6.24 (although price is actually set in $). although as the author M can order copies at about half that price (though there are then postage costs to pay).
Ideal for: Producing books which really look like paperback books. Great if you want family and friends to be able to buy their own copy. You can also choose to publish your book in Kindle format.

5. Self published via Lulu

I’ve yet to use Lulu, but Juliet Clare Bell has a really useful post on using Lulu in school over on Picture Book Den. Having taken a quick look at Lulu it looks quite similar to CreateSpace, although you can do hard covers, and A5 and A4 sized books (CreateSpace mostly does standard US Trade sizes, and doesn’t offer hardbacks.)

6. Using the Scholastic We Are Writers scheme

The Scholastic We Are Writers scheme is specifically designed with schools in mind. It costs nothing for the school to set up and publish, thought each final book costs £5.99 (though you can sell it for more if you wish to make a profit) subject to a minimum order quantity of 50 books. A nice feature is that the books come with an introduction written by a leading children’s author (although this isn’t personalised to your school)

Advantages: You can run We Are Writers as part of your Scholastic Book Fair to earn Scholastic Rewards for your school.
Disadvantages: Not ideal if you just want a few copies of the book you create. Although the cover is full colour, the interior of the book is black and white only, so not ideal if you wish to include artwork. Books must contain a minimum of 50 pages.
Cost: ££
Ideal for: Schools wanting to create books which are text based.

7. Book Creator for iPad

The Book Creator App makes ‘fixed layout’ e-books and is apparently very easy for kids to use to create books with lots of images. I’ve not used it, but here’s a series of case studies where it has been used in the classroom, and it would seem families at home could also easily use this app (free for your 1st book, then up to $4.99 for unlimited use).

My thanks to @candyliongirl and @sue_cowley for helpful suggestions when exploring options for creating books.

Disclaimer: I received a free review copy of The Good Little Devil from the publishers.

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Can you believe it’s the very last day of Picture Book Month 2012?

Holidays is the theme of the day, and in taking that to mean festive celebrations, I’ve chosen to wrap up a wonderful month with a gentle, charming, heart-melting story set at Christmas: Ernest & Celestine by Gabrielle Vincent, translated by Sam Alexander.

Celestine, a mouse, and Ernest, a bear, are perhaps an unlikely pair of friends. But good friends, thoughtful and kind friends is what they are. So when one wintry day out on a walk Celestine loses her favourite toy, Ernest is determined to make things better.

Ernest’s first attempt to make everything all right doesn’t work, but a second attempt puts a smile back on Celestine’s face. Then to spread the goodwill and to ensure that Ernest’s earlier attempts don’t go to waste, friends and neighbours are invited around to celebrate Christmas together.

It’s a terribly simple story, with the drama familiar from other tales (I first thought of that terrible moment in On the Banks of Plum Creek when Laura discovers her beloved Charlotte abandoned by Anna Nelson in a frozen puddle, and more recently there’s Mini Grey’s Lost in Space) but several aspects of this book make it stand out, head and shoulders above other similar books on offer this season.

Vincent’s illustrations are graceful, full of poise and seemingly effortless. They are soothing and calm. They are what I imagine a lullaby might look like – and certainly this book would make perfect bed time reading. Ernest and Celestine are two characters it is very easy to fall in love with. Their expressions and body language are all about love and care, about that sort of connection you feel when all you want to do is scoop up your child and hug them tight.

The tender illustrations are given centre stage by the minimal text which accompanies them. This book is an example par excellence of where the relationship between image and word is full of breathing space, where scenes and phrases are left lingering in the air to savour. There’s no “He said,” or “She said,”, no “Then this happened,” or “that happened,” but rather the reader and listener need to take their time to sew the threads together, This slower pace adds to the calm, soothing feeling I’m sure will envelop all readers and listeners of this book.

A book full of reassurance, joy, and deep, profound love, sprinkled all over with a dusting of sparkling snow and a Christmas party to boot – I’m not sure there’s a better picture book to be found under your tree this year.

Ernest and Celestine was originally published in French in 1981 under the title Ernest et Célestine ont perdu Siméon. It was a great success, and more than 20 further Ernest and Celestine books were published. Some of these were translated into English in the 1980s by various publishers, but all are now out of print.

Catnip, the publishers of this Ernest and Celestine, will be bringing out The Picnic (Ernest et Célestine vont pique-niquer) in April next year, and plan to publish one to two Ernest and Celestine books a year if they take off in the way they deserve to.

Hopefully the new animated film based on the characters Ernest and Celestine, with a script written by Daniel Pennac, will boost the books’ popularity. You might like to watch a trailer for the film (although I don’t think the animation is as beautiful as the original illustrations):

A busy week means that we haven’t yet played out this book as per the kids’ request – the plan is to spend the weekend making a pram out of cardboard, plumbing pipes and a broom handle (sounds crazy, but the plan IS a good one!). Celestine has a lovely pram which she plays with and that’s what what we’re going to try to make together.

Instead, however, you could “play by the book” by:

Making a soft toy based on a drawing by a child – Celestine draws a picture of her lost toy for Ernest, which he then uses as the basis to sew a new one for Celestine. Child’s Own Studio are a business doing exactly this, but you could make a much simpler one like we did here.

Going for a stomp in the snow, perhaps taking The Snowy Day by Jack Ezra Keats along with you.

Making Duck toys – lots of duck toys peep out from behind boxes and furniture in the illustrations of this book, and this tutorial from About.com is pretty kid friendly.

Now one last thing before I wrap up for this month…

If I could have chosen the theme for today, I would have simply chosen Celebration – because that’s what this month has been – one great big celebration of everything a picture book can be. Huge thanks go to Dianne de Las Casas for all her hard work and enthusiasm throughout the month, and for having the vision to create this month-long party. Well done Dianne! And here’s to Picture Book Month 2013!

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Ulf Stark is an author I only discovered this summer, but what a discovery! I’m very excited that he will be here in the UK next month as part of The Children’s Bookshow, an annual tour of children’s authors and illustrators across the UK.

I recently chatted to Ulf over email about his work and here’s what he had to say…

Playing by the book: Were you a bookworm as a child? What children’s books did you especially enjoy?

Ulf Stark: I was not exactly a bookworm as a child. More like a book elephant – a sleepy one with big ears. My first contact with literature was through my mother’s voice. She sat in a chair below mine and my brother’s bed reading for us, every night. It was Pippi Longstocking, Winnie the Pooh, Biggles, books about poor dogs and the stories about Babar, the elephant. My favourite stories were some by the Swedish writer and illustrator Elsa Beskow, Burroughs’ Tarzan books and – best of all – Linklater’s The Wind on the Moon (which is still a favourite).

Playing by the book: I’ve just started reading The Wind on the Moon – what a lot of mischievous fun! I can certainly see why it’s a favourite. So you listened to lots of stories as a child, but did you always know you wanted to be a writer?

Ulf Stark: I never thought about it. I was left handed when I began school – but was forced to use my right hand. So I hated writing. And I understood that a writer has to write. So, not at all, never in my life!

I wanted to be a story listener. Or perhaps a vet, because I loved animals – especially poor dogs (another book I liked very much was Doctor Doolittle). My interest in writing began more as result of normal teenage depression (Who am I?, Why am I?, How can anyone love me?). Writing become a way of escaping from myself. And a way to be / become myself at the same time.

Playing by the book: So what about being an illustrator – you’ve illustrated a few books too. Is that something you wanted to be from an early age? And now, how do you find the process of illustrating different and/or similar to writing?

Ulf Stark: Drawing was my best subject in school. I drew caricatures of my teachers. I drew animals, bats and aeroplanes. And I tried to impress my young friends by drawing nude women, the way I thought they looked.

Playing by the book: [laughing] That sounds like a lot of fun!

On a more serious note, given that your books (at least those which are available in English) deal with themes which don’t often appear in (English) children’s books (death, sex), how do you think writing for children is different from writing for adults (which you’ve also done)?

Ulf Stark: Writing for children doesn’t differ from writing for adults with respect so much to themes. But rather it’s the perspective that’s different. I´m using language as an instrument to approach my childish experiences – my almost forgotten feelings, the way I looked at the world. And when I look back I know that I was definitely thinking a lot about death and sex among thousands of other things. I find it more joyful to write for children. Perhaps because I can write about very serious things without being too pretentious.

Playing by the book: I believe five of your books have been translated into English, Can you whistle, Johanna?, Fruitloops and Dipsticks, My friend Percy’s Magical Gym Shoes, My Friend Percy and the Sheik and My friend Percy and Buffalo Bill. You’ve said in other interviews that Can you whistle, Johanna? is perhaps your personal favourite of all the books you’ve written – you must be pleased it has been translated, but which of your other books (of which there around 50, no less!) would you like to see translated into English?

Ulf Stark: Perhaps: ”A dog named Ajax”. This is a small picture book about a dog (Ajax) who gets given a boy when he is seven years. The dog gives the boy his first sausage (from the dog plate), he teaches him his first word: Woof!, and he’s there for the boy when he takes his first steps. The boy and the dog are the best of friends. As the boy gets older, so does the dog. And now the boy gives the dog his sausages, he’s the support for the dog when the dog has problems walking. And then the dog dies. And the boy goes to the sky, trying to persuade the Master of it all to give him back the dog (who is now a star). But the Master says it’s not possible. He can however have the star’s shadow, so the boy puts this under his bed and one morning he hears the shadow bark.

Playing by the book: To what extent are the books of yours which are available in English representative / typical of your writing? What are we missing out on having so few books translated? Friendship, identity, male relationships, ageing, death, sex, – these are some of the key themes I see in your English books, but what other themes do you like to explore?

Ulf Stark: I think the books which have been translated are representative of my semi-autobiographical works. But I have also written more mythological books, for example The Angel and the blue horse [this was transformed into a play for children in the UK in 2006, and you can listen to the first part of the book (in Swedish) here/PBTB]. This is about God, an Angel and a blue horse, a book about jealousy, for there is a child-god who feels sad and angry when he looks at the angel and the horse playing together. And I have also written a book called Asmodeus about the son of the Devil – a problem child because he all he wants to be is calm, he doesn´t want to be evil at all… You could perhaps categorize it as having a religious theme, but in a very non confessional way. Perhaps another theme could be that about power, a very essential part in the life of children. I have just written a book called The Dictator, about a small dictator and his thirst for power – now conveniently translated into Belarusian.

Playing by the book: Yes, that’s rather good! I hope it does well there

Based on your books which have been translated into English it seems that you weave quite a few autobiographical details into your writing. To what extent is the Ulf in Can you whistle, Johanna?, or the My friend Percy trio of books you? What is enjoyable for you as a writer about including personal stories and details in your books?

Ulf Stark: The Ulf in the books is definitely me. He shares a lot of my feelings and early experiences, we share the same brother and have been brought up in the same house with a bakery and an old people’s home as nearest neighbours. But of course, the autobiographical details are not interesting for the readers because they are true but rather because they are interesting.

Playing by the book: In the UK if you ask someone to name a Swedish children’s author, perhaps the only person many will be able to name is Astrid Lindgren, but who else should we know about? Which other Swedish children’s authors should I be lobbying to be translated?

Ulf Stark: Barbro Lindgren, a wonderful writer. Also Ulf Nilsson and Pia Lindenbaum. In Sweden there are (as in every country) a lot of good writers and a handful of really good ones.

Playing by the book: For The Children’s Bookshow, you’ll be on stage with your English language translator Julia Marshall. Can you describe for us the process of translating your books – for example, do you get any say in how they get translated? Do you and your translator discuss passages, particular words or phrases?

Ulf Stark: Not very often. The translators work in silence. And they don´t want to disturb us unless it’s very urgent.

Playing by the book: Ah, I see! And what do you hope the children and adults attending your Bookshow event will bring with them to your event? And what do you hope they will take away, having heard you and Julia speak?

Ulf Stark: I hope they will bring their good spirits with them, and a lot of questions! And that they walk away in good mood, with a smile on their faces and a lot of more questions in their heads.

Playing by the book: I’m sure they will, Ulf!

And now, for one last question: What are your working on at the moment?

Ulf Stark: A book called The Sister from the Sea. It´s about one of the 7000 children from who were evacuated from Finland to Sweden during the Second World War. Sirrka is evacuated to a family where the daughter is longing for a dog – and is disappointed when instead she gets a ‘sister’. It´s about the way the girls who start out as enemies end up as friends.

Playing by the book: That sounds very interesting. Thank you Ulf, for taking time to answer my questions. I hope you have a a great time as part of this year’s Children’s Bookshow.

The Children’s Bookshow takes place in every autumn and coincides with Children’s Book Week. Its aim is to foster a lifelong love of literature in children by bringing them the best writers and illustrators to inspire and guide them. You can find out more on their website http://www.thechildrensbookshow.com/.

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I’m a great believer in the power of seeing an author / illustrator live to spark kids’ imagination and excitement about reading. So you can imagine how much I like the idea of The Children’s Bookshow, an organization which arranges an annual tour of children’s authors and illustrators across the UK.

The tour takes place in the autumn and its aim is to foster a lifelong love of literature in children by bringing them the best writers and illustrators to inspire and guide them. One of this year’s featured author/illustrators is the Belgian illustrator Carll Cneut.

Born in 1969 in a small village on the Belgian/French border Carll did not grow up dreaming of being an children’s book illustrator. In fact, he seriously considered a career as a circus artist before eventually settling down to study Graphic Design at the Saint-Lucas Arts School in Gent, the city where he still lives today.

Following graduation, Carll worked for a publicity agency but a chance meeting let to him being asked to illustrate a children’s book, Varkentjes van Marsepein (Piglets of Marzipan), in collaboration with Flemish author Geert De Kockere. This was the start of something unexpected and exciting for Carll, his first major project as a children’s book illustrator. Now he has more than 30 books to his name! Several of these have won prestigious prizes in the Netherlands, Belgium, Italy and France and in 2010 Carll Cneut was one of five illustrators shortlisted as finalists for the Hans Christian Andersen Award.

My kids and I have been familiar with Carll Cneut’s work for some time now, having several of his Dutch language books. When I saw he was coming to the UK as part of The Children’s Bookshow I jumped at the opportunity to interview him. Here’s how our conversation went…

Playing by the book: Hello Carll!

I write about children’s books at Playing by the book and I’ve a special interest in books translated into English from other languages, so it’s a real pleasure for me to be able to put a few questions to you ahead of your visit to the UK as part of The Children’s Bookshow.

What role did books play in your childhood? What were your favourite books? Given how popular comics are in Belgium, and that you went on to study Graphic Design (a route into creating comics), were comics indeed part of your childhood (as it happens my two girls love Suske en Wiske – we’re a bilingual English/Dutch home)?

Carll Cneut: Comics like Suske en Wiske and Jommeke are part of every child’s upbringing here in Flanders. I especially liked Jommeke as his adventures were more based on real life. And early on I started to draw the Jommeke character everywhere. I consider those – together with Mickey Mouse – my first attempts to drawing.

From an early age I started collecting illustrated fairy tale books, intrigued as I always was by the actual book, meaning the beautiful object a well published book can be; and the images. And although I didn’t read very much as a child, I owned tons of books, to just look and feel them. 

Playing by the book: Elsewhere you’ve described how you didn’t start out aiming to be a children’ book illustrator but now you are very happy to be exactly that – can you share with us some of what you enjoy so much about being an illustrator (and perhaps how it is different from what you imagined)?

Carll Cneut: As it is – I can’t even imagine being anything else than a book illustrator even though I never planned to become one. As a book illustrator you have the chance to create time after time an entire universe between two bookcovers. Also a book has a long life, opposed to editorial illustration. But the biggest difference from what I imagined it to be, is that it is not a solitary job. I’ve been travelling a huge amount the past years, meeting the public, doing readings or presentations. The time that being a bookmaker meant sitting behind your drawing or writing table seems so far behind us. I equally enjoy all the meetings with the public as much as sitting behind my desk. It keeps me balanced. 

Playing by the book: I’ve read that your first name came about possibly by accident – your father added an extra “l” when he went to register your birth. What role (if any) do accidents play in your illustrations? I’ve heard other illustrators say that key details in their work are sometimes the result of an accident (and how this is perhaps becoming less common as more illustrators move to the computer); your work, however, seems painstaking and precise, without room for “mishaps”.

Carll Cneut: I’ve always believed that there are 2 kinds of book illustrators, one type who works from the heart, and the other one who constructs books from the mind. Both are equally valuable, but I definitely belong to the second category. I construct. So coincidence rarely happens, as everything is decided whilst making the dummy of the book. I don’t have the natural ability of drawing easily, so I work with several layers whilst drawing, to bring al the different elements together in the final illustration.

That said, coincidences do happen whilst painting, like finding a new way to paint, or having different brands of paint conflicting with each other  bringing a weird effect to the result. A good example of a coincidence in my work are the backdrops in the book ‘Het geheim van de keel van de nachtegaal’ (The secret of the nightingale’s throat ) where I needed a Chinese inspired feel to the book. I created the backgrounds by dragging different layers of paint with an old piece of board over the paper, which was an accidental find whilst cleaning my working table.

And I do love the sense and smell of the material, the white scary paper before starting an illustration. I would miss it too much if I moved to the computer. 

Playing by the book: Even though your work is meticulous and has the quality of “fine art”, you enjoy leaving it somehow “unfinished”, to create a space for viewers to add their own contribution. Was this aspect of your work something you consciously worked on, or is it something that has become apparent by itself over time? I guess this is a lead in to asking how do you think illustrators can and do develop their own style – and how do you discuss / teach this, in your current role as a teacher of illustration at the Royal Academy of Fine Arts in Ghent?

Carll Cneut: It is something I always have found very important as I always believed a picture book should leave room for interpretation by the reader. A reader who should actively participate and be part of the book. I try to drag the reader into the book. A good example is the first illustration in my book Willy. On the first page you see a piece of a trunk and two feet, and no background. It is a human reflex to complete the drawing in your own head. Everyone sees an elephant, although he isn’t shown.

It is like drawing without a pencil. At that moment the reader becomes the third maker of the book. I also try to create the same demand to contribute through many other things, like often only showing the main characters in profile, but having their emotions shown through how they hold their bodies, so the reader enters into this character to imagine the facial expression. Or by spending time on the outfits of the characters, working through many layers of paint to give the clothes some life and history, so the reader should wonder why the character might wear these specific clothes, and why the clothes don’t look brand new, leaving space for the reader to imagine where this character comes from, how his life was before he ended up in this book etc… Or by adding little stories in the illustrations which have nothing to do with the main story. The funny thing is that children notice these extra little stories very quickly, whilst adults almost never notice them

I think the most important thing I can teach my students about book illustration is ‘everything which isn’t written in the text, is the freedom of the illustrator’. Of course everything should correspond correctly with the written story, but there is so much freedom which can be used to make the book more interesting, or more layered. As for developing their personal graphic style, that is a matter of thorough research of materials and their use, and of course some luck too. 

Playing by the book: We’re lucky at home because we read your books published both in English and in Dutch. Do you think the books of yours available in English are representative of your work in general? Which of your books not available in English would you like to see translated?

Carll Cneut: I would have loved for “Het geheim van de keel an de nachtegaal” (The secret of the nightingale’s throat) to be translated, but I guess it is an a-typical book, in the sense that it is much more text than a regular picture book, and aimed at older children. I also did a book called Dulle Griet, where the story is based on the painting De Dulle Griet by Breughel. It has an entirely black cover, and the story talks about hell, and the devil , and even death. I am aware that this book would cause a scandal in the UK, but it might initiate a discussion about the use of children’s books, in these times where we have to box up against the digital world. I also should say that children only pick up from this book what they are able to assume, so most kids don’t pick up on the suicide thing, they just think the monsters and skeletons in the book are very cool But that said, Belgian picture books are aimed at slightly older children then they are in general in the UK.

I really would love to see “Een Miljoen Vlinders” (One million butterflies) translated into English. 

Playing by the book: Can you share some of your experience about how children’s publishing is different in the UK and/or US as opposed to Belgium? What sort of thing works well in the UK, but not in Belgium?

Carll Cneut: I feel the biggest difference is the approach towards picture books. In Belgium we have this huge array of different graphic styles, and themes . Heavy subjects are not avoided; subjects which are often unthinkable in other countries (like death, or suicide etc). A lot has to do with the fact that picture books are aimed at slightly older children than they are in the UK. But – and I am not sure about this - also to the fact that books are often used here [in Belgium] to initiate a discussion with children, raising questions for children, rather than simply being bedtime stories.

Playing by the book: When you started doing shows about your work, you surprised yourself with how much you yourself enjoyed them. Can you tell us a little about what you’ll be doing at your Children’s Bookshow event? How does the show work, what do you do with the children who attend? Is there anything you’d like attending children to have done in advance of coming to one of your shows to “get them in the mood”?

Carll Cneut: For the moment I think I will mainly work with the energy of the crowd, not knowing where I will end up. But one thing is sure, the whole show will be worked around three books of mine which I will show and read aloud: Ten Moonstruck Piglets, Willy, One Million Butterflies.

Playing by the book: What are you working on at the moment? Another collaborative work? More costume design? What’s your next book to be published in English and/or any language?

Carll Cneut: At the moment I am working with a young Italian writer on a picture book, called ‘The Golden Birdcage’, a story about a cruel princess who collects birds. As for the English/US market, most likely it will be “One Million Butterflies”, but I do have to stress that that is still unsure for the moment. As for other languages: De Blauwe Vogel (The blue bird) and Fluit zoals je bent (Whistle as you are) are shortly coming up in Italian and French, along with a few other languages. 

Playing by the book: Thank you Carll, I hope you have a great time this year on the Children’s Bookshow.

Find out more about the The Children’s Bookshow here. Anybody can book tickets for any of the events, and schools can also book free workshops with the authors and illustrators taking part in the tour.

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H.O.U.S.E. by Aleksandra Machowiak and Daniel Mizielinski (translated by Elzbieta Wojcik-Leese) is a book about dreams becoming reality. About imagination taking flight and bearing fruit. It’s also a nonfiction book about architecture. And, it’s wonderful!

I first came across the work of Aleksandra Machowiak and Daniel Mizielinski when I interviewed Jan Pieńkowski and asked him for some tips about Polish illustrators to look out for. With my recent addiction to books showing homes, houses and buildings through the ages I gave myself the perfect excuse to finally treat myself to H.O.U.S.E.. Why did I wait a year and a half to bring this IBBY Honour list book into our home? I don’t know, but we’re all very glad it now has a place in our house.

H.O.U.S.E. contains details of 35 unusual houses around the world. Illustrations of the actual houses are accompanied by short details on what was the inspiration for them, their location, a key to their construction and a portrait of the architect for each house. Kids love building dens and secret nooks, and this book is basically about adults who do exactly that. No wonder H.O.U.S.E. is so popular with my kids (and I’m 100% sure will excite your kids too).

Each of the houses in question is drawn, rather than photographed. I think this is an interesting decision given that these are houses which actually exist. Why would you draw something in a nonfiction book, when you could take a photo of it instead?

Perhaps the illustrations are somehow more inspiring, especially for children; photographs would make the object concrete and specific, rather than focusing on the imaginative side of the design.

By illustrating the buildings, Machowiak and Mizielinski have also been able to play with colours a lot; perhaps it’s because of the link in my head with Pieńkowski, but H.O.U.S.E. reminds me of the Meg and Mog books’ use of a limited range of flat, saturated, intense col

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My girls are going through a phase where what they most want to do pretty much all of the time is create miniature landscapes, with building bricks, playmobil, sylvanian family furniture and animals, supplemented by all sorts of knick-knacks that little children have a magical ability to accumulate. These “set-ups” as the girls call them are often inspired by the books we’re reading, and the latest book to be given the landscape makeover is The Children of Hat Cottage by Elsa Beskow.

In a nutshell, The Children of Hat Cottage tells the sort of tale many parents will recognise – about children trying to be helpful, but ending up making a bigger mess than there was before.

A mother lives with her three young children in a cottage shaped like a hat. One day she has to leave them at home whilst she goes off to buy yarn to make new clothes (isn’t it liberating and exciting how in fairytale-like stories, it’s perfectly possible to leave children at home alone!). Whilst their mother is away the children decide to do something nice for her; they clean the cottage chimney. But one thing leads to another and disaster strikes… their beautiful little hat home burns down.

Fortunately there is a friendly neighbour who comes to the aid of the children, and together they work to save the day. The mother returns, and though initially shocked, everyone shows great composure, makes the best of the situation and out of hard times, lots of love (and a new home) flourishes.

This is a sweet little story with simple, but lovely illustrations. The themes of independence, triumphing over adversity, and keep one’s cool in the face of disaster are great for shared storytime. The fairytale aspects of the setting will delight children who want to believe in gnomes and little spirits, and the poise with which the mother picks up the remains of her burnt-out life and makes the best of it is something I shall aspire to when things are higgledey-piggeldy in my life.

There’s plenty to like about this story, but hand on heart, I don’t believe this is one of Elsa Beskow’s greatest books. The illustrations are somewhat sparse compared to some of her work. They are quick, fluid sketches rather than the detailed images you find in, for example, Around the Year or Children of the Forest. Still, we’ve enjoyed it and it has inspired plenty of play in our family, as I’m sure it will in yours.

Here are some scenes from one of M and J’s “Hat Cottage set-ups”, including a little cottage we made inspired by the one in the illustration above.

3 Comments on Minature landscapes and giant hats, last added: 2/8/2012