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Bambino the Clown

by George Schreiber

There is a very fine dividing line that I have discovered on opinions surrounding the subject of CLOWNS. And the line is crystal clear, as it seems there IS no middle ground. You either love them or fear them. So imagine my surprise when I found a Caldecott Honor book from 1948 that will let YOU make up your mind from a SAFE distance. I must recuse myself from this debate as I fell in love with Bambino! And whether after reading it, you too fall in love, in LIKE or still run screaming into the night, you will have shared with your young reader a beautiful narrative on what it takes to be understood in this world – a listening ear, time and compassion. Bambino has all three virtues in equal amounts. And it does help if you also have as a pet a black Sea Lion called Flapper and a sense of humor!

When I read these wonderful vintage Caldecott classics, I often wonder to myself, “Where are these authors now?” “Are they still living?” Do they realize the effect their picture book are STILL having on readers, as in the case of Bambino, some 66 years after its printing? Sometimes I DO look them up online to see where they are and the specifics of their careers as writers. And in the case of George Schreiber, it started me down an offshoot of my original intent on a review of his book.

What sidetracked me was the discovery of something George Schreiber and many other artists were part of in the years of the Great Depression and even into World War II. Have you ever heard of the Federal Arts Project? Well, neither had I. It was an arm of the WPA or Works Progress Administration, begun by Franklin Roosevelt in his New Deal effort to get the country moving again economically. Started in 1935 and ending in 1943, it gave artists such as Jackson Pollock, Thomas Hart Benton, George Schreiber and hundreds of other artists an opportunity to do posters, murals and paintings that wound up hanging in schools, hospitals and libraries. The Federal Arts Project provided artists with income and an opportunity to display their work. And the public had a chance to see great art at a time when the soul-feeding jolt that the arts provide was sorely needed. George Schreiber enrolled in the WPA Arts Project in 1936 and over the next three years he traveled all 48 states (yes, only 48 at that time!), creating lithographs of American Regionalist imagery. A link to a sample of that imagery is provided below.

Museum collections representing Mr. Schreiber’s work include The Metropolitan Museum of Art, The Brooklyn Museum, The Whitney Museum of American Art and The Museum of the City of New York. I always am excited to see young picture book readers experience great art ALONG with a great story. It lets them see and remember at a young age what “great” is, as opposed to “mediocre!”

At his death in 1977, George Schreiber who was not ONLY an artist but also a war correspondent in World War II AND poster designer was part of a NYC WPA Artists exhibit at Parsons School of Design. He was also a noted lithographer, teacher and writer. And so, we come full circle back to his book on the little clown, Bambino.

Take a look with your young reader at some great art by George Schreiber and the charming story of his invention, Bambino the Clown, a Caldecott Honor book of 1948. This clown and the art that brings him alive is a story in itself that shows young readers what “good” art really looks like! Thank you Mr. Schreiber!! You made me smile! For as Bambino reminds his young friend, Peter, as he confides to him what it means to be a clown, “Now you know how to be a clown; you must remember it means just one thing: “To laugh and make everybody happy!”

Lentil

By Robert McCloskey

Yes, it’s the same author of Make Way for Ducklings, One Morning in Maine, Time of Wonder, and Blueberries for Sal, many of which take place in Maine. But just maybe your young reader missed not only these, but another peek at a slower pace of childhood in Lentil!

Mr. McCloskey grew up in Ohio, so it’s not unusual that this picture book is set in a place called Alto, Ohio wherein lives a lad named Lentil.

It’s a happy life in Alto, save one glitch: Lentil wants to sing and can’t. Can’t sing and can’t even whistle, so what do? Why buy a harmonica of course!

Pennies saved buys the longed for harmonica and Lentil plays early and often with the best sound reverb coming from playing in his bathtub! Most everyone enjoys the sounds emanating from Lentil’s harmonica, save for OLD SNEEP. Don’t you just love the oily sound of that name? You don’t even have to LOOK at Mr. McCloskey’s perfect black and white drawings to figure out what kind of character ole Sneep will turn out to be. Why, he’s a veritable grump of course, and a wood whittling, park bench-sitting grump at that.

News spreads fast in small towns and the famous Colonel Carter, one of Alto’s most favored citizens, is descending after two years away. He owns the finest house in Alto and the library was a gift from the Colonel. Everyone is excited except Old Sneep:

“Humph! We wuz boys together. He ain’t

A mite better’n you or me and he needs

Takin’ down a peg or two.”

(Good time for an introduction by the reader on the whys and wherefore of dialect allowances.)    

So Alto plans a big celebration for the Colonel with crowds, flags flying, speeches AND the Alto band set to play as he exits the train. BUT ole Sneep, jealous of the Colonel’s celebrity, is the fly in the ointment, and commences slurping a LEMON from the roof of the train station as the band puts lips to instruments. Talk about being unable to wet your whistle, all the band mates can do is pucker rather than play because of the slurping sound of ole Sneep!

But guess who knows a nifty version of “Comin’ Round the Mountain When She Comes?” Soon the Colonel is finger snapping and singing. And he even joins in on a chorus or two with Lentil’s harmonica, as it seems the Colonel played one as a child! In fact the Colonel is so happy about the bang up welcome he received, he’s going to build a HOSPITAL for ALTO. Even ole Sneep is so happy he can be seen indulging in an ice cream cone to celebrate the occasion.

Mr. McCloskey has a gift for portraying the large heart within a small town like Alto or a big city like Boston in “Make Way for Ducklings.” His art and words make people and places VERY ACCESSIBLE to your child whether they’ve been there or not. Don’t let the sounds of Lentil’s harmonica, the Colonel, Sneep and the good people of Alto elude your young reader’s ears. It is childhood at its simplest, community with all the shadings of gray and a great heart at the center!!

A Pocket for Corduroy

By Don Freeman

My grown kiddies first came upon the picture books of Don Freeman via the titles, Beady Bear, Dandelion and then, Corduroy. The books and characters he imagined and drew, created many hours of bedtime and leisure reading for them. I guess Don Freeman is one reason that I am partial to bruins of all types, but especially in literature whether they are called Paddington, Pooh Berenstain or Baloo, and any number of others I could name. There is something about a bear that is comforting and relatable to a child. Perhaps, that’s why they keep popping up in kid lit as opposed to an aardvark. Why even a bear named Smokey was chosen by the Ad Council as a way to educate children in 1947 as a way to inform them about the dangers of forest fires. The famous quote ran “Remember…. only you can prevent forest fires.” It’s since been updated to say; “Only you can prevent wildfires.” And the Ad Council maintains that 95% and 77% of children know that quote. Amazing!

But, back to this bear!  If you and your young reader have not read the original, do go back and read Corduroy. He is the bear in search of a home and the loving arms that embrace him in his quest, comes in the form of a young girl named Lisa.

In A Pocket for Corduroy, Lisa and her mom are in a Laundromat doing wash with the green overall suited and honey colored bear in tow. Lisa’s mom wisely advises Lisa to empty her pockets pre wash. “You don’t want your precious things to get all wet and soapy.” Corduroy, in glancing down at his overalls notices he is pocket less, and so begins one bear in search of a pouch. Mistaking a HUGE laundry bag for a cave, Corduroy ventures in, and of course is mistakenly bundled into the WASHER with the heaps of other clothing by a fellow launderer. A small bear is very easy to miss! When Lisa discovers the absence of the furry one, the Laundromat is near closing and unhappily they depart to renew the search the next day.

Luck is on the side of Corduroy when he is uncovered by the artist/launderer post wash and the least he feels he can do is dry the young bear’s sopping wet overalls. As they spin in the dryer, the artist is suddenly taken with an idea for a PAINTING as he views the clothes whirl in the dryer.  Flashes of color inspire the beret headed man and he can’t WAIT to start the creative process. Hey, inspiration is all around us, even in Laundromats, and sometimes what we simply need is a Muse or facilitator. Enter Corduroy!

Unexpected surprises are always afoot for Corduroy as he innocently tips over a box of Swan Flakes soap chips, believing it to be real SNOW! And he is rewarded with an unexpected slippery and soapy flake filled slide down a tabletop into a cart.

With the Laundromat now closed, young readers will be wondering and ASKING, “Does Corduroy get home?” “Will he get his pocket?” Why not read and find out is always my answer to that question!

Don Freeman, who passed away in 1978, had that rare gift and touch for taking an ordinary event in a day and making it something SPECIAL in a picture book, just because a very loveable bear named Corduroy experienced it. Corduroy’s wide-eyed openness, willingness to try new adventures and meet new people, mirrors the child in all of us. And I can’t help but think that a great deal of that spirit infused into his characters came from Don himself. His books are a living legacy in the picture book pantheon!

And Corduroy and A Pocket for Corduroy are picture books that are classic and comforting, just like their hero!! Well done, Don, and thank you from generations of young readers, including two particular young ladies that I know!

Sister Anne’s Hands

By Marybeth Lorbiecki; illustrated by Wendy Bopp

March is Women’s History Month and March 8^th through 14^th is the first ever National Catholic Sisters Week that is intended to celebrate the generations of sisters who have taught in schools, served in nursing homes, orphanages and hospitals throughout the United States. Generally they were the glue that, in many ways, held the institution of the Catholic Church together seamlessly. And they did this all with a quiet determination and dedication with little recognition other than the conviction that their lives and the thousands they touched, were a testament to the faith they believed in. Sadly their numbers are dwindling as young people choose other avenues of service.

All of this put me in mind of a wonderful picture book I remember called, “Sister Anne’s Hands” by Marybeth Lorbiecki with illustrations by Wendy Bopp.

Sister Anne is an African-American sister teaching in a parochial school in the 60’s. Her teaching and storytelling methods are inventive and interesting as Wendy Bopp’s illustrations portray Sister Anne’s students held in rapt attention when she speaks. Just imagine how hard that was to pull off with 50 something children in an average class at that time!  The picture book’s story is told through the eyes of young Anna, a student in Sister Anne’s class who is confused when she overhears her parents say, “I don’t know how a woman of her color is going to survive.”

Sister Anne confronts the concrete meaning of that overheard phrase when a paper airplane sails through the air in her classroom with the following words written on it:

Roses are red.

Violets are blue.

Don’t let Sister Anne

Get any black on you.

The racial slur from a young unformed mind, obviously influenced by others, has Sister Anne react with a calm demeanor as she says she “needs quiet time to think about this.”

And Sister Anne opts to react to the racial discrimination in her young charges by informing them of her own experiences and heritage that causes some parents to withdraw their children from the class. But the children who remain are the fortunate ones. They are the recipients of the wisdom and talented teaching of a wonderful young woman who has an innate love for the young minds that come into her sphere for one special year. Young Anna in Sister Anne’s Hands and it seems, the author herself are both lucky enough to have come under the influence of a dedicated sister whose persona is only symbolic of the thousands like her. Wendy Bopp’s beautiful art work coupled with Ms. Lorbiecki’s view on a very contemporary issue of the 60’s is beautifully executed. 

And in that same vein, this book put me in mind of a sister I once met that recently passed away. She became the teacher of a young African-American student named Clarence Thomas; the very same Clarence Thomas that went on to become a Supreme Court Justice. Her dedication to the teaching of young African American students at a time in our country’s history when it was, to say the least, frowned upon, was both heartfelt and heroic. This sister, and others of her order put the education of ALL children first. Her core belief, put into action, was that every student deserved to have an equal chance at reaching his or her goals and her entire life was in the service of that belief.

So to ALL the Sister Annes of this world, and especially to the sister that I just mentioned, “Thank you! For the world will not see your like again.” And by the way, I had a Sister Anne-like teacher too!

Goldilocks and the Three Bears

by Jan Brett

I have a sneaking suspicion that I have a clue to WHY bears hibernate. My reasoning stems from the recent winter storms that have wrought havoc with school schedules, retailer’s sales totals and just plain getting to work each day. Bears seem to have the easy solution and a unique way to jettison the jangly nerves brought on by weeks and weeks of battling snowstorms and clearing off cars and driveways. The answer is to peacefully sleep away the winter. That way you awaken to the beauties of springtime in good humor.

Jan Brett, in her unique telling of this ageless forest tale of that famous home intruder, Goldilocks, begins the telling with the bears fully awake and off for a jaunt in the woods as their breakfast porridge, delightfully laced with roasted nuts, honey and berries, cools.

The charming cottage Jan has envisioned where the bruins dwell is filled with such rich detail of design that I wish I could put my reservation in right now for a weekend getaway there – if the bears allow their cottage rented out. For instance the porridge bowls that Ms. Brett fashions for the bears are not the ordinary bowls with dings that you or I might toss into the dish wisher! These are exquisitely executed like small soup tureens with tops. Bear motifs of alternating brown, black and polar bears adorn each one. They are sweetness times three!

If these bears do not EAT from ordinary bowls, they certainly do not SIT in run of the mill chairs. The bears seating selection consists of one rough hewn, leather lashed style, with wild egg shells perched atop its back boards, a tufted and tasseled affair, and the smallest, a intricate hand carved delight. Miss G smashes that one to smithereens. Perhaps young bears weigh LESS than young blond house intruders, or at the very least, sit more carefully!

And the BEDS – oh the beds. All I can say is that I so wish SOMEONE would fashion a bed of wood for me with pinecones on the four posts and 2 carved bears each on the head and footboards. Heaven!

BUT, there is always a time of reckoning in this story as the bears return to find their porridge tasted, their chairs sat in, with one demolished, and the intruder asleep in the smallest bed. It has the cutest hedgehogs on its posts. Aww! Awake and aware of her hosts’ return; Goldie skedaddles without so much as a thank you. Maybe she wrote them a hostess note later or at the very least sent a basket of berries and honey, but somehow, I doubt it. Oh Goldilocks, where ARE your manners?

Jan has infused the magical borders of her version of this famous fairy tale with forest life, replicated in carved versions of flowers, mice, mushrooms, bee hives, strawberries, butterflies plus intricate frames that I wish could be replicated into moldings for a house not just for bears.

Jan’s eye for detail is unerring and the feeling she brings to this telling is distinctly “Brettian” in its warmth and wonder.

If you must choose one picture book version, and there are many, to introduce your young reader to Goldilocks and the beleaguered three bears she bothers, let Ms. Brett’s be the version you choose. It is a world away from any other.