Cinderella or The Little Glass Slipper
Translated and illustrated by Marcia Brown
Picture book author Tomie de Paola tweaked my memory bank recently with his art-mail on the birthday of Charles Perrault.
Many of you may know the contributions of this author and member of the Academie Francaise. He basically set the stage for the modern telling of fairy tales taken from his retelling of folk tales.
Perhaps the most famous would be “Cendrillon” or Cinderella.
Even the Grimm Brothers got into the act, retelling his tales some 200 years after Charles Perrault lived and wrote.
Remember, too, that the famous Broadway creative team of Rogers and Hammerstein got into the Cinderella act with a musical version in 1957 of this transformative tale based on Perrault’s Cendrillon ou la Petite Pantoufle de verre. Starring Julie Andrews, and seen on TV, it was seen by millions of viewers. Wonder what Monsieur Perrault would have thought of that? And since then, there have been several more recent TV versions in 1963 and 1997.
Perrault’s legacy to the picture book genre, and even derivatively to movies, is huge.
Please share with your children that, perhaps in their innocence, they truly believe that Walt Disney conceived the idea of Cinderella. Monsieur Perrault, were he here, would beg to differ!
Mais non! Please set them straight as you sit and enjoy this wonderful picture book, precipitated by Charles Perrault’s tales.
Which is a convenient circle back to this 1955 Caldecott Award winning picture book classic by Marcia Brown entitled, what else, Cinderella. Her book is a free translation from the French of Charles Perrault’s story of a girl literally confined, at times, to the cinders of a fireplace.
Ms. Brown’s translation misses none of the essentials of this gentleman’s daughter whose second wife is, shall we say, less than generous to our heroine? The new wife’s own two daughters inherit her sour and bitter disposition as well. But Cinderella is goodness itself:
The husband had a young daughter
of his own, but she was sweet and
good. She took after her mother,
who had been the best in the world.
Alas, as the fairy tale goes, things are not roses and daffodils in this particular blended family! Not one to complain of her treatment to her papa at the hands of her new family members, I wonder that he must have been absent most of the time or near-sighted not to have seen his daughter’s ill treatment! Thank heavens we have many blended families and step moms in particular today, in sharp contradiction to this one:
She gave her the vilest household
tasks; it was Cinderella who scoured
the pots and scrubbed the stairs,
Cinderella who polished the bed
chamber of madame and also those
of her daughters.
And yes, all the glorious transformations are here in softly tinted pastel drawings that make it all the more dreamlike.
A moonlike pumpkin morphs into “a gilded coach of pure gold.” Meandering mice are transformed by Cinderella’s godmother, who just happened to be a fairy as well. In a twinkling they are changed into “dappled greys.” Rats are reimagined into coachmen and lizards are dragooned in a trice, into footmen.
And what might this tale be without a description of the famous ball gown:
Her fairy godmother had scarcely
touched Cinderella with her wand
when her rags changed into a gown
of gold and silver, embroidered with
rubies, pearls and diamonds.
With the midnight admonition in her ears, Cinderella is off to the royal ball. And her future life awaits…. with a few bumpy turns in the road before a royal wedding ensues.
But, here’s the loveliest part, to my mind, of Marcia Brown’s classic picture book tale.
Cinderella forgives her stepsisters for their treatment of her, and even, get this, gives them a home in her palace!
And, what is even more generous, on the same day that Cinderella marries the prince, she finds her stepsisters husbands!
And they are married on the same day as Cinderella, to “two great lords of the court.”
Now that is a true princess worthy of emulation, not for mere physical beauty, but for her generosity of spirit and forgiving nature.
Cinderella’s sense of noblesse oblige is off the charts.
And as the New Yorker stated in its review:
The pages sparkle with Marcia
Brown’s exquisite artwork and
lovely colors.
Please allow the magic of Marcia Brown’s Charles Perrault translation of Cinderella, to weave its magic with your young reader.
It will be a vivid literary reminder of what the transformative melding of both outer and inner beauty in a person can do.
Through this Caldecott winner, it allows young readers to see a huge change wrought first by magic in one life, but beyond that, in the lives of others. And those changes are not brought about by magic, but solely by the simple humanity of Cinderella, and her treatment of those step sisters, lucky enough to be in her sphere of influence. Beautiful!
And, to my mind, that is the real magic of this classic picture book read. It is one not to be missed.
When two people sent me this link I assumed that everyone must have already seen it. But when it didn’t show up on PW Children’s Bookshelf I decided that perhaps I might have a scoop. At the very least, it appears that when people think Nick Cave meets Dr. Seuss, I’m the logical person to send that link to. And they’re right. I’ve been hoping for years that some karaoke bar I wander into might have “Red Right Hand” on the roster. So far it hasn’t worked out but I live in hope. Thanks to Stephanie Whelan and Marci for the link.
- There was a nice obituary in SLJ about Marcia Brown, the woman who currently holds the title of Most Caldecotts Ever Won By a Single Person (though David Wiesner looks to be catching up). She’s a former co-worker of mine, if by “co-worker” you give or take 50 years (we both worked in the Central Children’s Room, now called The Children’s Center at 42nd Street). Jeanne Lamb of NYPL gave some great background in this piece. I did speak to someone recently who was surprised that the Shadow controversy hasn’t come up in any obituaries discussing Ms. Brown’s life. I suspect that has more to do with our shortened memories than anything else, but it may be an indication of folks wishing to remember her in the best light.
- You know, just when you think Travis Jonker has come up with all the brilliant posts he’s going to, something like this comes along and blows it all out of the water. You, sir, are a certified genius. You, and your little Aaron Zenz too.
- Work on Funny Girl, my anthology, continues unabated. In that light, Shannon Hale’s magnificent post Stop Shushing the Funny Girls is particularly pertinent. Consider it your required reading of the day.
- “Social fluency will be the new currency of success.” The Shelftalker blog said that Jewell Parker Rhodes’s closing keynote, “Diversity and Character-Driven Stories,” at this year’s ABC Children’s Institute was worth reading and seems they’re absolutely right. Downright inspiring too. Maybe this should be your required reading.
- Nope. I was wrong. Those two posts are your required reading, on top of this one from Art Director Chad Beckerman. His Evolution of a Cover post on Me and Earl and the Dying Girl makes you wish he wrote such things daily. It also clarifies for many of us the sheer amount of work a single book jacket takes.
- This is coming to America next year. As such, I must respectfully ask the universe to please make next year come tomorrow. I am willing to wait 24 hours. See how patient I am? I think I deserve a treat.
- Let’s say you work in a library system where, for whatever reason, you need to justify a massive summer reading program. And let us say that what you need, what you really and truly want, are some cold, hard facts to back up the claim that there is such a thing as a “summer slide” (summer slide = the phenomenon of children sliding back a grade or two over the summer if they don’t read during that time) and that summer reading prevents it. Well, thanks to the efforts of RIF, we now have research to back us up. So for those of you fond of cold, hard facts, tip your hat to RIF.
There’s just something about that Alligator Pie. When twenty-five graphic novelists were asked to name their favorite children’s books, not one but TWO of them mentioned Alligator Pie by Dennis Lee, illustrated by Frank Newfeld. Canadian to its core, it’s one of those classics that most Americans, heck most U.S. children’s librarians, just don’t know. Next time I’m in Stratford, Ontario I’m picking up a copy. After all, any book that influenced both Mariko Tamaki and John Martz has got to be doing something right.
Did you hear about the diversity survey Lee & Low has spearheaded? Did you read the comments on the article? And do you know whether or not any of the big five have agreed to participate yet? Inquiring minds want to know.
- Sure, this news already ran in PW Children’s Bookshelf, but hearing it more than once never hurt anybody. We all have our pet favorites. Mine just happen to be German sometimes:
NorthSouth Books’ Associate Publisher, Andrew Rushton, has acquired a second book by German author/illustrator Sebastian Meschenmoser. Gordon & Tapir, which tells the comical story of odd-couple housemates (a particular penguin and an untidy tapir), received a Special Mention at the Bologna Ragazzi awards (category Fiction) and is short-listed for the German Children’s Book of the Year Award. The author will be on tour in the US this June ending at ALA in San Francisco.
- I miss Peter Sieruta. I miss him a lot. Nobody else had his wit and timing and sheer, crazy historical knowledge in strange obscure areas. So it was with great interest that I recently discovered Second Look Books. Librarian Carol Matic highlights older gems each week, giving a bit of context and history along the way. Good for those still going through Collecting Children’s Books withdrawal.
Need I say more?
Jules, I thought of you. Thanks to Stephanie Whelan for the image.
by Janet A. Loranger
Thirty-seven years ago, Marcia Brown published her first picture book for children: The Little Carousel.* On June 28, 1983, she received her third Caldecott Medal for Shadow. Those years from 1946 to 1983 have encompassed one of the most distinguished careers in American children’s books. That her latest book has received such a signal honor and that she is the first illustrator to be awarded the medal three times are evidences of the undiminished vitality and richness of her contribution to the field. It is an uncommon achievement.
The nourishment of such a gift and such an achievement comes from many sources. Marcia grew up in several small towns in upstate New York, one of three daughters in a minister’s family. Everyone in the household loved music and reading, and her father also passed along to her, especially, his joy in using his hands. From childhood Marcia was allowed to use his tools and learned to respect and care for them. And from her own workbench and tools, in later years, have come the wood blocks and linoleum cuts that illustrate such handsome books as Once a Mouse… (1961), How, Hippo! (1969), All Butterflies (1974), and Backbone of the King (1966). Marcia feels that the most important legacy her parents gave her was a deep pleasure in using her eyes — for seeing, rather than merely for looking. Her keen delight in the details of nature and her acute observation of them are evident in all her books — most dramatically, perhaps, in the beautiful photographic nature books Walk with Your Eyes, Listen to a Shape, and Touch Will Tell (all Watts, 1979).
As a college student, Marcia was interested in botany, biology, art, and literature. During summer vacations she worked in Woodstock, New York, at a resort hotel and studied painting with Judson Smith, whose criticism and inspiration have remained an important influence in her life and art. After graduation she taught high school English, directed dramatic productions for a few years, and worked in summer stock. Some years later, she became a puppeteer in New York City and also taught puppetry for the extra-mural department of the University of the West Indies.
When Marcia moved to New York City, her interest in children’s book illustration drew her to work in the Central Children’s Room of The New York Public Library, where she gained invaluable experience in storytelling and an exposure to the library’s large international and historical collections. Here, too, she received encouragement from such outstanding children’s librarians as Anne Carroll Moore, Helen A. Masten, and Maria Cimino.
Marcia’s particular interest in folklore and fairy tales is apparent to anyone familiar with her books. Marcia believes strongly that the classic tales give children images and insights that will stay with them all their lives. To each of these stories she has brought her own special vision, her integrity, and a vitality that speaks powerfully and directly to children.
A very important influence in her life and in her books has been the stimulus of travel — that mind- and eye-stretching jolt out of the usual. Marcia has traveled widely in Europe, Great Britain, Russia, East Africa, the Middle East, and the Far East, including China. If she has a “home away from home,” it is Italy, the country with which she has felt most profoundly in tune. She lived in Italy, off and on, for four years, spending much of her time painting. Felice (1958) and Tamarindo! (1960) are books that grew out of her love for that country and her friendships with Italians. Marcia still writes to friends there, in Italian, and is able to converse with them in the language when she calls them on special occasions. France, too, has a special place in her life, and she spent over a year there; while living in Paris, she studied the flute with a member of the Paris Conservatory Orchestra. On a speaking trip to Hawaii she was so overwhelmed by the incredible beauty of the islands that she returned to spend many months and to do the research that was the basis for one of her most powerful books, Backbone of the King, a retelling of a great Hawaiian hero legend.
In the late 1960s Marcia gave up her long-time residence in New York City and moved to a small town in southeastern Connecticut. For the first time she was able to design and build a studio to fit her needs. It is a large room with a balcony at one end, a high ceiling with two skylights, and areas for doing painting, woodcuts, drawing, photography, sewing, and flute playing. The house is surrounded by hemlocks, and the woods nearby are filled with possums, raccoons, deer, squirrels, and birds. Not far from her property is the small river that provided the inspiration and the evocative winter photographs for her only filmstrip, The Crystal Cavern, published by Lyceum Productions in 1974. The plants, trees, wildflowers, and animals — and the changing seasons — are a constant source of stimulus and delight. Her greatest problem is finding time for all the interests she wants to pursue at home and also for going to New York to attend operas, ballets, concerts, and museums — and for traveling.
Most days, Marcia gets up early and spends some time reading while she has her breakfast. Just now, she is interested in the recently published book about a journey through the byways of America, Blue Highways, by William Least Heat Moon (Atlantic-Little). She finds many of the conversations the author had with residents of small, out-of-the-way villages the stuff of living folklore. Later, she might go to her studio and practice Chinese brush painting, a technique which first interested her in 1977 and which she began to study seriously, with a teacher, two years ago. Her paintings of lotuses, bamboo, plum blossoms, birds, and dramatic landscapes fill the walls of her living room and studio. She has begun to exhibit, along with other artists practicing the technique, and has sold several paintings.
If she has a sewing project, as she often does, Marcia will spend time on the studio balcony, where she has set up a sewing area. And each day, she faithfully practices her flute. She feels very fortunate to be studying with John Solum, a much-esteemed concert flutist, who lives in a nearby town. When she sews or paints, or works on illustrations, there is always music — as necessary to her as food. Her love of music and the dance and her deep understanding of them perhaps account, in part, for the grace, rhythm, and strength of her writing and illustration. Most certainly they are profound influences. Because her work requires solitude and long stretches of concentration, she often does not see as much of her friends as she would like to, but she accepts this fact as a price that must be paid.
Marcia Brown’s books have unquestionably stood the test of time. Nearly all of them are still in print — a certain proof of their enduring hold on generations of children. Never has Marcia been interested in passing fashions in children’s book illustration. She has worked in many media but not for the sake of variety; rather, she has always let the story and her feeling for it determine the medium and the style. Her particular vision and her uncompromising integrity have been rewarded in the past: two Caldecott Medals (for Cinderella in 1955 and for Once a Mouse… in 1962), six Caldecott Honor books, two nominations for the Hans Christian Andersen Award, the University of Southern Mississippi Medallion for Distinguished Service to Children’s Literature, and the Regina Medal. Now, after so many years of creating memorable children’s books, Marcia stands in a unique position — one abundantly deserved. It is gratifying that the children’s librarians of America, the dedicated people who bring children and books together, have honored her in so special a way.
*Except where another publisher is indicated, all books mentioned are published by Scribner.
From the August 1983 issue of The Horn Book Magazine.
The post Marcia Brown appeared first on The Horn Book.
We were saddened to hear about the death of author-illustrator Marcia Brown this week at the age of ninety-six. The winner of three Caldecott Medals — for Cinderella in 1955, Once a Mouse in 1962, and Shadow in 1983 — she was also recognized with a whopping six Caldecott Honors (including her indelible Stone Soup in 1948). She was awarded the Regina Medal in 1977 and the Laura Ingalls Wilder Medal in 1992.
Writings by and about Brown frequently appeared in The Horn Book Magazine. Here is a sampling:
“Distinction in Picture Books” by Marcia Brown (1949)
1955 Caldecott Medal Acceptance by Marcia Brown
“My Goals as an Illustrator” by Marcia Brown (1967)
Letter, with illustration, from Marcia Brown to Bertha Mahony Miller (undated)
“Marcia Brown and Her Books” by Alice Dalgliesh (1955 Caldecott Medal profile)
“From Caldecott to Caldecott” by Helen Adams Masten (1962 Caldecott Medal profile)
“Marcia Brown” by Janet A. Loranger (1983 Caldecott Medal profile)
The post Marcia Brown, 1918-2015 appeared first on The Horn Book.
Children’s Book author Marcia Brown has died. The Caldecott winning author and illustrator was 96 years old.
The New York Times reported that Brown died on April 28 at her home in Laguna Hills, CA.
Brown was the author and illustrator behind dozens of story books, which included original stories, as well as adaptations of classic folk tales and fairy tales. Her award-winning work includes: “Cinderella, or the Little Glass Slipper”; “Once a Mouse”; “Stone Soup” and “Shadow,” among many others.
Here is more from The NY Times:
As an illustrator, she employed a diverse range of styles and media, including woodcuts, collage, pen-and-ink drawings, watercolors and gouache. In \"Shadow,\" for instance, she invoked the haunting African landscape of the Cendrars poem through richly layered collages of paper, paint and print. Reviewing the work, The Washington Post called it \"a highly original and exciting picture book.\"
OMG, LOVE those stuffed animals!!!
I started to work my way through the Top 100 Children’s Novels Poll too, and read the Watsons Go to Birmingham and two others. I will probably continue at some point but there were already so many books on my floor that needed attention! Still, it would make me and many others happy if you read Ballet Shoes…
Mrs. Mimi, teacher and authoress extraordinaire, is also working her way through your top 100 picture books, the Top 100 novels and the Top 50 multicultural books. She’s calling it her 2010 Reading Extravaganza.
She’s pretty witty! (http://itsnotallflowersandsausages.blogspot.com/)
I’m really curious how the heck Patton Oswalt could possibly fit in with the Seven Chinese Brothers.
You are one of the most interesting people I know too.
These are adorable. I have made characters like this from cat fur and lint. I have plenty of cat fur (on couches, clothing and under beds) to work with.
Cheers, Cynthia
I stumbled upon your blog a couple months back looking for Graphic Novel reviews so that I could find more to feed my nine year old son’s voracious appetite for them. What a find you are!! Thank you thank you thank you. The Fadeeva photos made me think of The Saga of Gray and Nameless which I thought you might enjoy.
http://www.facebook.com/grayandnameless
Thanks for the support Betsy!!!
I have seven more to read on the top 100 novel list, though I haven’t read many of them since library school or before. Ballet Shoes is in my iPod.
Thank you for pointing out The Philharmonic Gets Dressed. My son is obsessed with the instruments of the orchestra.