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“Books transmit values. They explore our common humanity. What is the message when some children are not represented in those books?”

Last weekend Walter Dean Myers, a previous National Ambassador for Young People’s Literature (the US equivalent of the UK’s children’s laureate) wrote a thought-provoking article in the New York Times about the need for books for children’ and young people to truly reflect the world around them. In his piece he was focussing on the lack of black children and young adults in books written for them. But I think much of what he writes is more widely applicable, as was explored and demonstrated at last month’s Inclusive Minds ‘What About Me?’ day at Imagine Children’s Festival. Among many other activities that day there was a discussion of the “concept of normal” in books for children and young adults, and the importance of diversity, of showing all sorts of children, from all sorts of backgrounds, so that all children could read books and see themselves somehow reflected, included and valued.

In a beautiful case of serendipity, with Myers’ words in my head, I picked up The Astonishing Case of the Stolen Stories by Anca Sandu (@anca_sandu).

Across a fairy tale kingdom, all stories have been stolen. The palace bookshelves are empty, the bookshop has no stock, and even cookery books and spell books are missing. A trio of detectives are called upon to crack the case and track down the culprit, but when they do so the explanation given for the thievery is heartbreaking:

“Well, I don’t know who I am,”
replied the thing. “I’ve found everyone
else in a book, but never me –
I thought if I kept looking
I might find a book with
my story in it.”

Children may not always be able to articulate it, but it is tremendously powerful when they find a story in which they recognise something of themselves, or something of what they could be. It’s the same for us grown ups, isn’t it?

Sandu’s gorgeous story ends positively with the detectives not only solving the case, but going further and taking steps to solve the source of the problem. Upbeat, witty, inventive, with compassion and creativity – there’s lots to love here.

The Astonishing Case of the Stolen Stories is tantalisingly ripe for use in literacy lessons, begging for teachers and children to work together to write their own stories. There are even jokes about enriched vocabulary, which will revitalise the drive for kids to use “wow” words or “power” words.

Sandu’s illustrations are shot with spring-like pastel hues and achieve a quite magical balance of clutter free, smooth spreads (enhanced by slightly glossy printing) sprinkled with humorous detail: See how many fairytale characters such as the Gingerbread man and Rapunzel you can find hidden in the illustrations.

Although I love The Astonishing Case of the Stolen Stories and would urge you to read it yourself, I also feel Sandu perhaps missed an opportunity in illustrating her story about the importance of readers seeing themselves somehow reflected in the books they read.

There are few female characters in this book; the humans that feature are all white, and the only inclusion of someone with any sort of disability is a pirate with an eye patch. Now I’m not saying that every book has to feature equal numbers of males and females, and different skin colours and people who use wheelchairs (for example), but I am observing that even in a book where your attention is drawn to the fact that readers like to find themselves in books (and thereby explicitly acknowledges the importance of reflecting society in its beautiful diversity – even in a fairy tale kingdom – in the stories we write and read) perhaps more could have been done to reach out to those kids who find it hard to find themselves in stories.

Inspired by the hunt for stories in Sandu’s book we set up our very own storybook treasure hunt. M and J were designated storybook detectives for the afternoon, after I had hidden books and clues around the house and garden.

The clues were very simple and just asked the girls to work out a location based on a book I knew they knew. So, for example, I asked “Where was Pushka trapped until Lulu rescued him?” (The oven, see Pushka), “What gave Ulysses the squirrel his name?” (A vacuum cleaner, see Flora & Ulysses) and “What are you sorting out when you go DING DONG BANG or BING BONG CLANG?” (the kitchen pans, see All Join In).

They then rushed around finding the books I’d hidden…

And when they had solved the final clue we sat and read a selection of the books they’d found whilst munching on a treat:

These are entirely edible storybooks made from no-cook fudge, coloured to match the pastels in The Astonishing Case of the Stolen Stories

The recipe is super easy and brilliant for kids – just 3 ingredients (not including colouring or sprinkles), and all you need to do is mix everything together. The resulting “fudge” is lovely to play with, a little like edible playdoh. If you put it in the fridge for a little it firms up nicely and makes perfect books!

Whilst making the no-bake-fudge story books we listened to:

Alongside reading The Astonishing Case of the Stolen Stories you could enjoy:

What sort of stories are you currently hunting for?

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

Enter to win an autographed copy of Krog the Frog Prince, by Janet C. Smith. Giveaway begins March 12, 2014, at 12:01 A.M. PST and ends April 11, 2014, at 11:59 P.M. PST.

When browsing for new books to read with my girls, I generally avoid anything which is pink (or associated shades of purple and red) and sparkly. I know lots of parents don’t; for many it’s a useful pointer, and for publishers it’s seen as a way to boost sales. But for me, it’s often shorthand for books I expect to promote a simpering, narrow world view, where what’s important for girls is making themselves look pretty so they can be rescued.

Pink AND bravery, imagination, creativity, strength (physical and of character), and wisdom don’t seem to be natural bedfellows in picture books (though no doubt you’ll be able to tell me of exceptions which prove this rule).

So given my aversion to pink, I would never have picked up The Fairytale Hairdresser and Sleeping Beauty written by Abie Longstaff and illustrated by Lauren Beard; It’s full of pinks, and liberally sprinkled with glittery bits.

But a review copy came through the letter box, and J fell hard for it. Something about it really, REALLY appealed to her and given her total passion for this book I felt honour bound to review it here. But how to review a book where my starting point was one of reluctance?

Kittie Lacey is a hairdresser, in a land populated by fairytale and book characters. Everyone from Alice (of Wonderland fame) to Little Red Riding Hood, the Owl and the Pussycat enjoy visiting her salon. One day, visiting fairies tell how their friend Princess Rose has fallen into an enchanted deep sleep, and only a kiss from her true love will wake her up. Does Kittie know anyone who could help? Could it possibly be that Prince Florian, a garden designer (the clue’s in the name) who visited Kittie’s salon earlier in the week, might be the man to save the day?

The setting is beguiling, especially to book lovers; like Blyton’s The Magic Faraway Tree, or many of Jacqueline Wilson’s books, there are lots of references to other story characters, making them all seem real. If they can walk out of one book into another, they must have a life of their own, which doesn’t just flow through the pens of their original creators; children will love spotting “old friends”.

There’s an interesting mix of old and new, traditional and modern; Neither the prince nor the princess are people of leisure – they actually work for other people – but yes [SPOILER ALERT], it is a kiss from the prince that makes everything all right. Kittie is very practical and clear headed, an independent. successful woman, and yet making the fairies pretty is seen as the best way to cheer them up. I didn’t feel very comfortable with this message that being pretty = being happy, especially when that prettiness is about adornment, clothes and hair-do’s, rather than (though I don’t like the phrase) “inner beauty” (though of course the two are not mutually exclusive).

Reading a book with someone who is totally passionate about the book – in this case, my youngest daughter – is always a delight, and so I’ve ended up loving The Fairytale Hairdresser and Sleeping Beauty, despite a personally slightly complicated relationship to it.

Now it so happens that earlier this year I met the author of The Fairytale Hairdresser and Sleeping Beauty, Abie Longstaff at the FCBG Conference. I think she’d agree with me when I said we got on wonderfully well, and had a great deal of fun together. It says a great deal about the friendship we struck up, that when I approached her about my “complicated relationship” with her Fairytale Hairdresser (there are 3 books already out featuring Kittie, and a 4th is on the way), she was very happy to talk to me about this series. Here’s how our conversation about her choices in this series of books went:

Playing by the book: Why did you choose to write about a hairdresser, and not say a doctor or an artist?

Abie Longstaff: When I designed the fairy tale world, I really wanted to make it ordinary. I wanted to reflect the kind of jobs that the majority of normal people have. I deliberately didn’t want the royals swanning around being dressed up smartly and not doing jobs. I feel ordinary craft jobs are not respected enough in today’s society and there is unfortunately a stigma against being a plumber or nursery carer or gardener or other job seen as low level (leading to teachers and nurses being paid far too little, but I’ll keep my rant short!). I also wanted to choose jobs that very young children would understand – so, shop keepers (Red Riding Hood), builders (Three Pigs), gardeners (Prince), hairdressers (Kittie). All my characters, whether boy or girl, have ordinary jobs; one that children can imagine, and play themselves. Because they all have ordinary jobs, there is a sense of equality in the community and the books are very much about helping your neighbour by doing a job for each other.

For Kittie, I chose a hairdresser because, as children, my sisters and I used to play hairdressers. We loved the business side – beautification wasn’t our main aim; we wanted to run the salon as well as do our dolls’ hair. We used to spend hours making shampoos, writing price lists and making bookings for all kinds of famous people. So I made Kittie a business woman as well as a hairdresser. She lives above her own salon and works hard at her life. In Cinderella, part of the ethos of the book is that by learning a skill, you can enhance your life. Cinderella comes to work in the salon without a skill but day by day she learns hairdressing. Cinderella’s main progress in the book is to have learned this new skill, which she continues after her marriage.

Just as a side point – I was asked to a festival in Bristol, for a Sure Start project in an underprivileged area of the city. The aim of the project was to get children into reading. One little girl came up to me at the end and said her mum was a hairdresser. Her mother said my books were the first she had seen that had a hairdresser as the main character.

Playing by the book: One of my concerns with “pink” books is how they often promote the importance of looking good, not for oneself, but to catch the attention of another. Spending money and time on fashion and accessories is promoted as a worthwhile way for a girl to spend her time. This is not something I wish to encourage my girls to believe. Where do you stand on the dressing up, and putting on the bling?

Abie Longstaff: I have tried to be really careful and not make the dressing up about beautification. In all the books the characters need their hair done to solve a problem (Rapunzel), to cheer themselves up (the fairies in Sleeping Beauty), to disguise themselves (the plot in the future Snow White book) and definitely not in order to ‘catch a man’. I also show male characters having their hair done; Father Christmas is a regular customer, so are the seven dwarves and, in Sleeping Beauty, it’s the Prince who comes in for a trim.

In Cinderella, I really didn’t like the original story, where Cinderella has to dress up and look rich to attract the prince (so much so that he doesn’t recognise her when she is poor and she has to try on a shoe in order to be identified), so I made my couple meet while she is still ragged and poor and the prince loves her then. At the ball she tells him she isn’t wearing her own dress, to make it clear to him she is out of place, and he loves her still. After they are married Cinderella goes back to wearing her ordinary raggedy clothes, because they are a part of who she is.

Playing by the book:Thinking about messages books can send out to kids, especially young girls, about the roles they can play in life, how did you choose the different women in your versions of the fairy tales?

Abie Longstaff: I have taken care to portray a range of different women in my books. There is the stay at home wife (Rapunzel), the working wife (Cinderella) and the working singleton (Kittie, who isn’t interested in getting a boyfriend – she likes her work and focuses on that). For me, feminism is about choice and I want girls to see a whole range of choices open to them.

Interestingly, when children come up to me to talk about the book, Kittie is the character they want to hear about, not Rapunzel. One little girl asked me, in awe; “Do you actually know Kittie Lacey?” – the children want to be Kittie, with her cool salon and her modern, independent life.

Playing by the book:You wrote these stories, rather than illustrated them. How did you feel when the illustrator and editor came back to you with the pinks and glitter?

Abie Longstaff:I agree the book covers are sparkly. They are pink Rapunzel), purple (Cinderella), red (Sleeping Beauty), and Snow White will be green. But the insides are much funky in a Manga-ish style. Kittie has her hairdryer on a tool belt and she is a bit super-hero like.

I accept that the sparkle and pink tones might put some people off, but the messages in the books are pro-opportunity. I guess I think that, if it makes more children read my books then at least I know the messages will be getting through at some level! I also know boys who love the books and, when I read them in schools the boys love the character spotting and stories too.

Playing by the book:It may come as a surprise to readers of your books that you’re not a full time author. Tell us what you day job is…

Abie Longstaff: I trained as a barrister originally. Now I work for a charity that looks at the effects of policing on society. Because my work often involves justice and human rights, I take real care to make sure all my ‘bad’ characters have a legal and proportionate punishment, as opposed to other fairy tale punishments. They go to jail or do some form of community service. I know this sounds like a small thing but it’s really important to me!

My HUGE thanks to Abie Longstaff (@AbieLongstaff) for responding to my questions with such generosity of spirit. Our conversation has certainly encourage me to re-read her books with new enthusiasm. Perhaps most importantly, she’s created a series of books which has completely captured the imagination of my youngest, and for that I’m hugely grateful.

When met with the boundless enthusiasm for this book emanating from J, I had to enter into the spirit of things. Yes, J and M could play hairdressers. Yes, they could do my hair.

Out came all the clips…

And I sat patiently whilst they transformed my hair with ribbons, combs, bands and more…

Whilst it may not be a look I’d adopt very often outside of our home, we had tremendous fun for an hour or so!

There’s something about letting the kids do what they want to their grown up which is very powerful; the kids set about decorating me with relish and delight, and it reminded me of when they were allowed to tattoo me (see here!); what is it about transforming your grown-up that is so delicious for a child?

So…. after all this, where do you stand on “pink” books? Will this post get you to look again at them?

Disclosure: I received a free review copy of The Fairytale Hairdresser and Sleeping Beauty by Abie Longstaff from the publisher, and as you’ve probably gather, I consider the author to be a personal friend.

by Terry Spear

Don't you love the cover? It's actually a picture I took of woods by a stream in Scotland. It was magical, really. And I thought it would be perfect for COURTLY MASQUERADE. :)

I loved reading fantasy when I was growing up. The world of royalty, the treachery and deceit, magical and mythical creatures. I've written several books that deal with the various worlds of a fantastical nature. In this one, it's strictly a magical world. In some of the others, I enjoyed adding the creatures that caught my imagination--centaurs, ogres, griffins, dwarves, Amazons, and a couple of my own mythical creations.

Today, most of my work is more of a urban fantasy nature--the fantastical living in our contemporary every day society. But I still love to fall into a purely historical fantastical world too. What about you?

Courtly Masquerade

Ten Big Toes and a Prince's Nose by Nancy Gow, illustrated by Stephen Costanza  Sterling, 2010

Welcome to the sixth post in our mini-series here on Playing by the book – Stories in tune – all about picture books inspired by classical music. In the last month or so we’ve been listening to Swan Lake by Tchaikovsky, doing a fair bit of dancing, and of course reading some lovely books.

Ella Bella Ballerina and Swan Lake by James Mayhew was published less than a month ago and couldn’t have arrived at a better time for us - Ella Bella Ballerina and Swan Lake turns out to be the perfect book to introduce this amazing ballet to the youngest of children

Ella Bella is a young girl (I imagine her to be 6 or 7) who takes ballet classes in a gorgeous old theatre with the grand but kind Madame Rosa. At this particular class Madame Rosa introduces her students to the music of Swan Lake, telling them some of the key elements of the ballet’s storyline whilst they dance to music created by Madame Rosa’s wind-up musical box (complete with a spinning ballerina). When the class ends Ella Bella is so entranced by the music and the fairytale that she continues in her own reverie, dancing and imagining herself alongside Princess Odette as the story of Swan Lake plays out: when the prince is deceived by Odile, Ella Bella tries to warn him and when Odette flees the palace Ella Bella helps the prince to fine Odette.

Creating an illustration for Ella Bella Ballerina and Swan Lake. Image: James Mayhew

Ella Bella’s daydream ends just as the prince and his princess find each other and live happily ever after; Ella Bella’s mother is waiting for her and, having been utterly transported, this budding ballerina splashes “in the puddles all the way home, just like a baby swan.”

This story worked so well for us: it showed the girls how Swan Lake is not just a tale, but a ballet; it appealed to so many little girls’ idea of heaven – dressing up and being a ballerina, it put Ella Bella (and by extension my own girls listening to the story) at the heart of the action making is seem alive, and it showed how listening to music can sweep you up and take you to new and wonderful worlds. All these facets added up to making this book a great stimulus for imaginative play and really listening to the music.

2 Comments on Stories in Tune – Swan Lake – Part 1, last added: 11/5/2010

Yesterday, as part of my series Stories in tune, I rounded up the various picture book versions of The Magic Flute we’ve recently been enjoying. Today I’ll describe the play all these books and music inspired in us…

In between reading the different versions of The Magic Flute lots of playing involving dressing up ensued where we were either serpents or princesses (if you are unfamiliar with the story of The Magic Flute there is a detailed synopsis here from Glyndebourne Opera ). We also considered trying to make our own flutes – the ones on Vegetableinstruments.com looked like a lot of fun! But eventually, inspired by this post from Silly Eagle Books and this project at enchantedlearning.com, we then set about playing “Papageno” and catching our own birds.

1. I cut out some small bird templates which M and J decorated and added eyes to.

2. M folded coloured paper concertina style, cut it to about 10cm long and then inserted it into a slot I had cut in the birds’ tummies to create wings.

3. M and I made cages for the birds. Each cage required 9 long pipecleaners. First we took 5 pipecleaners and laid them like a star, just over lapping in the centre by a centimetre or two.

4. We folded over the ends of the pipecleaners to attach them to each other, creating a “knot”. We bent up the pipecleaners about 5 cm away from the “knot”.

5. We twisted the loose ends of all 5 pipecleaners together tightly and then gently pulled the pipecleaners to create a bit of a bell shape.

6. We used the remaining pipecleaners to weave around the bell creating a cage.

7. We hung up the birds i

Welcome to the second post in a new mini-series here on Playing by the book – Stories in tune – all about picture books inspired by classical music.

In the first Stories in tune post I talked about picture book versions of Peter and the Wolf. This time round we are looking at, reading and listening to The Magic Flute by Mozart – a story I thought would lend itself naturally to the format of children’s picture books given its fairy tale-like quest to rescue an imprisoned princess with plenty of magic and mayhem along the way.

What I found with introducing Peter and the Wolf was that in the beginning, before they became familiar with the music, both my girls most enjoyed listening to the music when it was the sound track to the wonderful animation by Susie Templeton. Listening to the music just happened naturally, almost without them noticing that they were listening. Once they were familiar with the music, they then enjoyed listening to it on its own.

This listening-by-stealth was much more successful than trying to sit them down to listen to a piece of music without any “warming up” or preparation and so I did something similar with The Magic Flute – before sitting down with a book or turning on our CD player we watched a BBC animated (and abridged) version of this opera by Mozart on YouTube. Here’s the first part:

Here’s part 2 and part 3. I think this is the same animation as is available on this DVD, which for some reason you can get in the States but not in the UK.

Now this video may not please all of you, especially if you know The Magic Flute well, as the version in the animation is only 30 minutes long and consequently a great deal of music from the original opera is left out, the story is adapted to fit the time frame, and it is sung in English. None of these things will sell the animation to an opera buff, but all of these things combined to make the animation compulsive viewing for both my kids – even J was transfixed for the full 30 minutes.

Having viewed the video several times I then started playing the music in the house whilst we were getting on with other stuff and both girls clearly recognised the arias and were excited to hear them again (you can’t imagine how pleased I was at this!). It was at this stage I introduced the picture book versions I had found of The Magic Flute, and here’s what we thought of them:

The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman

The Whipping Boy

I’ve adopted an orphan who I spank and punish every time my children misbehave. That way my children can learn something is wrong, but the only pain they suffer is one of sympathy. I’m kidding, of course. However, that is the basic premise of the book, The Whipping Boy by Sid Fleischman.

Whipping boys existed in the 15th and 16th centuries because the Divine Right of Kings decreed that to punish a prince would be the same as heresy. The whipping boys were usually actually of noble birth and quite close with the prince so that, in theory, the prince would care when their friends were beaten for their own misdeeds. In the Newberry award winning The Whipping Boy, by Sid Fleischman, the whipping boy is instead an orphan of a rat catcher. The prince feels no sympathy towards the boy, is quite mischievous, and is only disappointed when his whipping boy does not cry when he is beaten. The royal rapscallion is so bored he decides to run away and drags his very reluctant whipping boy along with him. What follows is a romp of an adventure where the boys outwit kidnappers, escape through sewers and befriend pretty young bear tamers. This small book (89 pp) has the perfect children’s story arc with the prince eventually learning what friendship means and he and the whipping boy living happily ever after. I recommend this book for any age that can read at this level (4th grade reading level) as the ‘danger’ is all silly and fun.

- Jessica Wheeler

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By: Kim Wheedleton, on 5/9/2008
Blog: Bugs and Bunnies (Login to Add to MyJacketFlap)
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