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No, this post is not about recipes.  You’ll not find “Alligator Pie” in any Canadian cookbook, that’s for sure,  but you will find scores of Canadian kids familiar with the poem and book of the same title.  Alligator Pie written by Dennis Lee in 1974 (original edition illustrated by Frank Newfeld) is a Canadian poetry classic. Children just love this zany poem’s rhymes.

Alligator pie, alligator pie,

If I don’t get some I think I’m gonna die.

Give away the green grass, give away the sky,

But don’t give away my alligator pie.

Many a child, including my own, has gone to a Lee reading to shout out with glee the end word rhymes to this famous poem.  Indeed, Mr. Lee encourages it.  “I never realized how soon a child can take part in “doing poems.”  A two year old will join in, if you pause at the rhyme-word and let him complete it.  Usually it will be the familiar rhyme, but if you’re making up new verses you’ll be surprised what he thinks of.  Try starting a verse “Alligator juice … ”

Lee’s intent was to create a book of rhymes for children that departed from the old English nursery rhymes he grew up with.  He wanted rhymes for children in the context they lived in as Canadians.  But not without being playful, of course!  My children love Lee’s wordplay with Canadian place names — for instance, this one on our home town.

Someday I’ll go to Winnipeg

To win a peg-leg pig.

But will a peg-leg winner win

The piglet’s ill got wig?

Is there poetry about your town or the place you live?  Is there a way to make word play with its name that will make your kids laugh out loud and think about where they live in a new and lively word-conscious way? Do tell!

We have just broken up from school for the holidays and our thoughts are turned towards Christmas next week. As well as reading Dickens’ A Christmas Carol together for the first time, which we all greatly enjoyed, we have been reading other stories with a Christmas setting, including two multicultural versions of the Nativity story, the birth of Jesus.

The first is The Road to Bethlehem: A Nativity Story from Ethiopia told by Elizabeth Laird (Collins, 1987). Elizabeth Laird has spent a lot of time in Ethiopia gathering stories from the oral tradition and her writing here certainly asks to be read aloud - not only is the story told simply with plenty of direct speech to bring it alive, but for those children who are familiar with the story from their own traditions, there is likely to be a good deal of intrigued discussion in which the differences are explored, including new characters and miracles.

The illustrations too are full of extra fascinating details - their vibrancy and appeal to young listeners/readers make it hard to take on board that they are taken from 200-year-old Ethiopian manuscripts in the British Library! Laird has added fascinating notes to each picture, which can be dipped into alongside reading the text - one Older Brother was particulary struck by was an episode on the Flight into Egypt showing arrowheads sticking out of the road to stop them: “but Mary took the hand of her Child, and walked through unharmed.”

The second book is one I blogged about last year but didn’t actually manage to share with my boys - however, we have now read together Ian Wallace’s beautifully illustrated version of The Huron Carol (Groundwood, 2006), based on an English translation of the Christmas carol written by a French Jesuit missionary, Father Jean de Brébeuf, for the Huron people in the 1600s. After reading through the first verse together line by line with its double-page-spread illustration, showing the people, landscapes and fauna of its Canadian roots, we have really enjoyed singing the whole carol from the music and words given at the end - in the original Huron, in French and in English. As we have pored over the familiar characters of the story in an unfamilar setting, and the baby Jesus wrapped in fur, surrounded by wolves and beavers, we have explored the reasons that the carol came into being.

We have all enjoyed sharing these books together - and any misgivings I might have had about confusing them with the different versions of what is to them a familiar story have been allayed - on the contrary, I believe their experience of the Christmas story has been enriched by them.

Given our website’s current focus on war, peace and social justice in children’s books, the recent terrorist attacks in Mumbai have made me keenly aware that our challenges are many on the path to a more peaceful world. Kids and young adults are cognizant of the two wars America has been fighting against terrorism since 9/11 and of the latest terrorist attacks in India. Understandably, they have a lot to try to make sense of and get to grips with. Clearly, they can’t do it on their own.

Kids ask lots of tough questions in general, but their questions about terrorism and war are especially hard to answer. As parents, teachers and responsible adults, should we protect our children from war- and terrorism-related news, and if not, how should we explore the topics with them?

What to say and how to say it to children clearly depend on their age and maturity level, but however we choose to handle their questions, we must be thoughtful, as times of war and conflict are fertile breeding grounds for prejudice through stereotyping. We adults must reconcile the dilemma of explaining terrorism, and why nations have enemies, armies and go to war, while also promoting non-violence.

An article on Dr. Spock’s website, on how to talk to older children and teens about acts of terrorism and war encourages parents and teachers to ask them questions: “Are those who commit acts of terrorism fundamentally different from the rest of us? Are there circumstances under which we could imagine ourselves acting as the terrorists have? Has our government ever taken actions that might appear, from the point of view of others around the world, to be terribly wrong? Can we understand terrorism without accepting it? Is it important for us to try?”

There are no simple right and wrong answers, of course. What is important is the attempt to understand—a very difficult challenge that books can help make less daunting.The Flame Tree by Richard Lewis, for instance, is a wonderful post 9/11 story, set in Java, that tries to show us the true Islam instead of the extreme version the media often presents.

On the more general topic of war, we have the example of Jennifer Armstrong, “historyteller” and author, who edited Shattered: Stories of Children and War, a collection of twelve stories written by young adult authors examining war’s implications in young people’s lives. She has written a beautiful piece in praise of war books for children—and I conclude this post with her thought-provoking reasoning:

Being a writer, I must acknowledge the richness of war as a subject for fiction. Great stories arise from conflict, and there can be no greater conflict than war. To whom do you owe greater loyalty? To your family, your friend, your religion, your ideals, your country? For what would you die? For what would you kill? These are soul-baring questions, and I think they are as important for children to consider as they are for adults… If you really want to teach young readers about peace, give them books about war.

Children are naturally idealistic and righteous. They have a fine-tuned sense of justice. Literature about war gives young readers the chance to think of what is just and unjust, to develop the capacity for philosophic inquiring doubt. It gives them the chance to contemplate the alternative to peace. When they read Faithful Elephants: A True story of Animals, People and War [by Yukio Tsuchiya] and cry out in dismay, ‘But it’s not right!’, they are absolutely correct. It’s not. This, it seems to me, is the preferable attitude with which to greet war, not, ‘It’s inevitable!’.

For more book suggestions and resources related to the theme of war and peace in children’ books, check out these reviews, as well as our reading lists and resource pages.

In her recent interview with PaperTigers, Deborah Ellis talked about the background to her most recent book, Off to War: Voices of Soldiers’ Children. This is a very thought-provoking book for children aged 9+ about the effects on the children left behind of having parents fighting overseas. In a way, these are children whose day-to-day existence is not outwardly affected by conflict and yet on whose lives the consequences of war can and often do have a profound effect.

A book I have read again recently to my children is Milly Lee’s Nim and the War Effort, illustrated by Yangsook Choi (Sunburst/ Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2002). Set in San Francisco during the Second World War, it tells the story of Nim, a little girl who is intent on beating her arch enemy, Garland Stephenson, an unprincipled bully, from winning the school drive to collect old newspapers “for the war effort”. She strikes lucky when she is offered a garage piled high with bundles of newspapers and resourcefully calls the police to help her to get them to the school in time…

Nim’s rather strict upbringing is ostensibly unaffected by the fact that the Second World War is going on – but it pervades her life nevertheless. Her grandfather wears a lapel pin of crossed American and Chinese flags; and she is fully aware of what certain symbols around her mean – like a gold star on a white background in a front window, to show that “the family who lived there had lost someone in the war”. At the same time, their deeper significance is perhaps lost on her. She is too young to understand that the lapel pin is there to protect her family from the prejudice against Americans of Japanese ethnicity at that time; nor what the emotional impact of losing a loved one in a war overseas actually means. However, it is also these details that give the story a depth and a historical validity: and indeed, in an interview with PaperTigers, Milly Lee told us that, apart from slightly changing her rival’s name, this is a true story. Her grandfather received several phone-calls telling him that his grand-daughter was in the back of a police car, which must have caused more than a little concern, but for Milly:

Oh yes, the ride in the police paddy wagon was wonderful, exhilarating, jubilant, a thrill, and probably the best ride I’ve ever had - and I’ve been on many different kinds of rides since then: yak, elephant, dogsled, tundra-buggy, rafts, and camel!

I can just imagine! And I particularly like the ending, where Grandfather reminds Nim to “Be gracious in your moment of triumph” – and she places her last newspaper on Garland’s stack then “looked over her shoulder and flashed Grandfather an impish grin” – feisty!

This is a beautifully crafted story – and a beautifully illustrated one – which not only leaves young listeners cheering that Nim won the day but gives much pause for thought about racial prejudice and bullying.

A lipogram is a kind of constrained writing in which a particular letter, or groups of letters, are missing.  Imagine writing a paragraph, for example, excluding the letter ‘e.’   It’s tougher than you think, especially, if you decide to omit vowels — the linguistic glue, as it were — between the consonants.  In A Voweller’s Bestiary, author JonArno Lawson takes a unique stab at the lipogrammatic genre.  He has created an alphabet book of animals based on vowel combinations, rather than on the usual initial letter form.  The lipogram part comes in when he excludes certain vowels from each set.  Sound complicated?  Well, what’s a constraint (and possible consternation!) for the poet in terms of rules can be a delight to the ear and eye of the reader.  And that is how a Voweller’s Bestiary was received by my son, listening to the contorted word music of “Ants and Aardvarks” or “Jaguar, Tarantula, Tangalunga” or “Tortoise, Porpoise, Crocodile.”  Reading poetry can attune your child to the sounds of language and help them appreciate the elasticity of words.

Another poetry book I tried out on my younger child was Rascally Rhymes by Jordan Troutt, illustrated by Sarah Preston-Bloor.  This book, also an alphabet one, takes names and makes ‘rascally rhymes’ with them.  There’s Ian who eats “worms and toads/and rocks and snails/a la mode.” or Gillian who “stomps like a gorillian.”  After we finished reading this book, my daughter and I went through all the names and tried to see if we knew anyone with the same name.  That was fun!  Palimpsest Press, who publishes this book, is now offering a contest on their blog for children to makes rhymes.  Reading this book definitely had an effect on my daughter.  While sorting laundry together the other night, she held up a sock and said “Mom, this sock doesn’t have a rhyme!”

Mexico is currently in the midst of its Día de los Muertos celebrations and there are some wonderful pictures appearing on various blogs, which highlight the color and exuberance of the festival – such as this at Zocalo de Mexican Folk Art; while Sue at Cottage in the Cedars recalls a past visit to Mexico and gives lots of background information. There are some great children’s books around – I blogged about some last year (including author René Colato Laínez’ as yet unpublished Magic Night, Noche Mágica). My Readable Feast has a new post about the Global Wonders dvd, with an extract to view about The Day of the Dead –it’s also worth scrolling down through the tag to her previous posts too, both for suggestions for children’s books and to see some very impressive home-made sugar skulls…

A new book, Abuelos, by Pat Mora and illustrated by Amelia Lau Carling (Groundwood, 2008), explores a less well-known tradition which carries traits of both Spanish and Pueblo cultures, and which is celebrated further north, in the mountains of New Mexico, around the time of the Winter solstice.

“Los abuelos” are not only grandfathers, in this context they are scary, sooty old men who come down from the mountains once a year to make sure the children have been good. At the time of the abuelos’ visit, villages have a big party, sharing music and food around a huge bonfire, and men dress up to tease the children.

In this delightful story, the preparations and the party are seen through the eyes of Amelia, our narrator, and her older brother Ray, who have only recently moved to the village. Amelia’s feelings are mixed – she loves the excitement but she’s not completely convinced that the abuelos are wholly mythical. Her father reassures her that it’s fun to be have a scary feeling sometimes – like at Halloween – because actually “No one is going to hurt you”. Ray teases and scares Amelia unmercifully but at the actual party, she’s the one who courageously leaps in to push an abuelo away from him…

The writing and the illustrations together perfectly capture both the magic of this tradition seen through Amelia’s young eyes and the warmth of the village community set against the cold, winter landscape. Monsters loom large, whether in caves up in the snowy mountains, or in the form of masked villagers – certainly all enough to convince Amelia to do anything her mother asks her straight away!

This is a great new addition to the bookshelf, whether for a cosy winter’s bedtime or for those in hotter climes wanting to escape the mid-December heat – as Pat herself says in her author’s note at the end:

Since I’m easily frightened, I chose to write a gentle version of how I imagine a spunky little girl responding to a visit by “los abuelos.” Enjoy!

As the nights start to draw in at bedtime here in the North of England, we start to long for a bit of color – and we have two bilingual English/Spanish books to hand at the moment, both of which we recently reviewed on PaperTigers - De Colores: Bright with Colors, a traditional Spanish song illustrated brightly indeed by David Diaz, who is currently one of our featured artists (Marshall Cavendish, 2008); and Colors! ¡Colores!, by Jorge Luján, and exquisitely illustrated by Piet Grobler, (Groundwood Books, 2008).

We haven’t sung De Colores yet but I’m sure we will and meanwhile, the words and pictures are as warm and bright as the music will be.

And we have all fallen in love with Jorge Luján’s whimsical poem, which is definitely to be savoured and re-read – even at the same sitting. It makes a lovely, gentle bed-time read and sends the imagination floating away towards the land of dreams. Jorge, let us know if it is ever turned into a video like Tarde de invierno / Winter Afternoon!