Could Be Worse
Now Playing: "Could be Worse," by James Stevenson
Topic: James Stevenson
This is one of James Stevenson's cleverest and most outrageous books, even though it follows a familiar formula: Once again, grandchildren Mary Ann and Louie visit their unflappable "Grandpa" with a problem, and he tells them a tall tale to put things into perspective--albeit a very wacky perspective! The kids complain of a splinter, a lost kite, and a flat tire, and Grandpa responds each time with the seemingly boring "Could be worse..." The two grandchildren think that this nonresponsive reply is due to the boring life Grandpa leads.

It's the perfect set-up for the signature Stevenson story, in which Grandpa matter-of-factly tells them about an incredible adventure he once had. (Often these stories involve his little brother Wainey, although he does not appear in this story). Grandpa, while eating breakfast with the kids, begins"

"Last night, when I was asleep, a large bird pulled me out of bed and took me for a long ride [the reader turns the page] and dropped me in the mountains." In this same unflappable style, Grandpa weaves together a story that includes an abominable snowman, a scaly beast who crushes him, a blob of marmalade (!) who chases him, a gigantic ostrich who kicks him into the sea, an "enormous goldfish," a safe refuge in a large cup, a "gigantic lobster," and a sea turtle who rescues him. Finally, he discovers a giant newspaper upon which he flies back home. He asks the kids "Now what do you think of that?" On the last page, they hug him and shout: "COULD BE WORSE!" By the way, on the next page, young hands had written in pencil "it could."

What's interesting here is how Stevenson's tone makes this all sound like it really happened, even though a dream is strongly implied. The vivid pictures (these are among Stevenson's best, he mixes rich pictures with other illustrations that display his more typical minimalist style), the detail, and the fun impossibility of it all make the reader "suspend" his or her incredulity. If you read enough of these books, these characters takes on a familiarity and warmth that make them seem like old friends.

One other great Stevenson touch: The "dream" is populated by beings and items seen as Grandpa eats breakfast and begins his story: His newspaper, orange marmalade, coffee cup-even the "giant something-or-other" resembles his dog, and the sea turtle resembles his toast. Spotting these correlates is more fun and sophisticated then finding "Waldo," and the smile on the family's faces (including the dog, of course) makes this both a fun and an endearing book. While one should never write in a book that one doesn't own, the writing I found suggested strongly that Stevenson (a renowned illustrator for the New Yorker, and the author of many excellent kids' books) had once again captivated his audience. Look for his many other books as well!

Now Playing: Another Gem from James Stevenson
Topic: James Stevenson
James Stevenson is a highly original author/illustrator whose mastery of wry humor is shared by perhaps only Daniel Pinkwater. Here, we meet Hubie the mouse and his family, featured in earlier Stevenson books such as "The Seaview Hotel," and "The Stowaway."

In faux documentary style, the first page announces that it's 1937 (look at the upper left, or you might not see this). Hubie and his family visit a grand, rococo-style movie theatre to see the melodramatic "The Island of No Return" (scenes from which Stevenson draws in evocative shades of gray). Hubie alternately displays and hides his fears--especially of islands. As the youngest family member, and the only one who is afraid, Hubie is somewhat of a castaway in his own family.

Stevenson then tosses in one of many improbable but fun plot twists: The family receives a large, stylish "Greetings from Barabooda Island" foldout from their aunt. They fly there in a dirigible (just another in Stevenson's bag of scene-setting tricks), but Hubie very accidentally falls out and lands in the giant mouth of a pelican swimming a few hundred feet below. "I beg your pardon...," Hubie says very properly," I just fell out of a dirigible." In what now seems like a parody of "Survivor," Hubie meets a castaway on a deserted (or is it?) island, who shows him his baseball stadium, drum set, fruit stand, and speedboat!

Everything is done in a wonderfully offhand style, with more and more fantastic perils facing our heroes on the island. Stevenson's casual drawings and very handwritten-looking text add to the whole tone of sublime nonsense. There's also a nicely done light message at the conclusion, as Hubie's adventures feed a newly discovered appetite for adventure.

Stevenson is beloved by many adults and kids; still, it seems that this superb writer has not received his due recognition. This book is an excellent introduction to his talents, and I hope it will encourage you to read his many other books. The book is 30 pages long, with illustrations done in pen and ink and watercolor, and the usual high production standards of the Greenwillow publishing house.

Now Playing: Totally Uncool by Janice Levy, Chris Monroe
Topic: J. Levy and C. Monroe
The story is simple, but the issues complex: How do you accept your Daddy's new girlfriend? Janice Levy and Chris Monroe's "Totally Uncool" doesn't tell what happened to the unnamed girl's mother, but this makes the ambiguous situation even more widely applicable. The girl, who looks around 6 or 7 years old, objects to Daddy's newest girlfriend--the one he calls "Sweet Potato." She keeps looking for something to criticize, even relatively minor differences: "She doesn't play soccer. Or work out in a gym. Video games? She hasn't a clue." Then there are the slight idiosyncrasies that accompany almost any person: "She plays the tuba"...."Falls asleep sitting up"...."Her hair is porcupine"..."She sings opera to her goldfish." These observations supply much of the book's gentle humor.

Midway through the book, the girl begins to recognize and accept Sweet Potato's kind ways and understanding nature: "She listens to me without the TV on. Keeps my secrets secret..." "Lets me slam doors when things aren't fair. She never calls me stupid." "She doesn't yell when I forget things. Or drop things. Well, maybe just a little." On the last page, the daughter humanizes her by telling us her real name ("Elizabeth") and, smiling, concedes "Maybe there's hope for her yet."

The book shows and normalizes the difficulties inherent in such situations. Kids may see that their resentful feelings are natural, but that they can be balanced by the new adult's (sometimes overlooked) good qualities. The new adult can see the situation from the child's view, and may get some perspective on respecting each other's boundaries and providing emotional support. But "Totally Uncool" is not just for family situations such as this one. It shows that it's not always easy to build a friendship, and that one must try to balance the newcomer's seemingly "uncool" surface characteristics with an appreciation of that person's deeper, more fundamental nature. Monroe's informal, "crayonish" illustrations keep thing light and underscore the narrative child-centered perspective. This is an excellent book that skillfully and lightly explores the evolving adjustment to the family newcomer.

Now Playing: "We Hate Rain!," by James Stevenson
Rainy Day Tale

When Mary Ann and Louie complain to their grandfather about two straight days of rain, he remembers when he and his younger brother "Wainey" experienced a real rainstorm. Told in an extended flashback, his straight-on delivery of one of the wildest and silliest rainstorms is sure to delight toddlers and young children.

Grandpa recounts a turn of the century rainstorm in which it rained so hard that the water eventually started filling their Victorian house (beautifully illustrated by Stevenson). Grandpa and Wainey's parents are as unperturbed as Grandpa is in telling the story to his grandchildren. Young Wainey inexplicably (and to much laughter from our son) says "Yump" a lot. As the water rises from the floor to the ceiling to the second floor and beyond, the two boys take advantage of their watery circumstances. Taking a bath is no problem, of course, nor are diving contests in the half-submerged rooms, sending letters by boat, nor visiting neighbors who float in and out of the house while calming seated. They're an unflappable bunch.

However, when prehistoric-looking fish swim by, and the family is forced to the roof with one cracker left to eat, young Grandpa dives to the bathroom and pulls the plug on the inundated house. Back to the present, the rain stops, "Uncle Wainey" comes over, and the whole family enjoys some strawberry ice cream. Stevenson's signature style graces the entire book. The combination of the increasingly outlandish content with the Grandfather's flat delivery works well, and Stevenson's whimsy shows in the complementary illustrations, lettering, and throwaway humor: There's just enough plausibility in this improbable tale that you can immerse yourself in it.

Now Playing: "Grandma's Records," by Eric Velasquez
Topic: Eric Velaquez
A Must Read-This is one of the Best

When your eyes feast upon the frontispiece illustrations-before the story has even begun-you know you're into something good. Eric Velasquez serves up a sometimes dazzling, sometimes quiet, evocation of the magic of album covers, salsa music, and warm family love in this autobiographical reminiscence of his childhood in Spanish Harlem.

The pictures can be eye-popping dazzling; many times they are more serene one-panel set pieces. At all times, they accurately and richly convey emotion and setting. Here, the settings range from Grandma's house in El Barrio, to a brightly lit nightclub (both inside and out) in the Bronx, and even to young Eric's imagination.

The plot revolves around Eric and his grandmother, who met many of the best salsa players while growing up in Puerto Rico. The furnishings and her love of a few material objects suggest her relatively modest means: her record player and records. Without a trace of melodrama or contrivance, author/illustrator Velasquez shows music's importance to "Grandma":

"Sometimes," Grandma said, "a song can say everything that is in your heart as if it was written just for you."

She says this, covering her heart, and at the side, we see a picture of her and her husband long ago in Puerto Rico. There is joy as well. Listening to a meringue from the Dominican Republic, Grandma sways her hips, moves her arms, and generally loses herself in the rhythms. There's one shockingly good picture showing a somewhat older Eric drawing sketches based on album covers: "As I drew, I could see the record covers coming to life and the bands performing right there in Grandma's living room." Bright, angular, Picasso-like suggestions of musicians playing their instruments fill the page.

The narrative turns on an invitation from Grandma's band member friends (Rafael Cortijo "to bomba y plena what Duke Ellington was to jazz," Ishmael Rivera, and Sammy Ayala) to hear them at a nightclub. Grandma and Eric wear their best clothes, walk into the darkened theater, and begin to hear a conga beat "BOOM BAK BOOM BAK BOOM BAK. Then the lights came on with a loud BOOM, and the band began to play the song "El Bombom de Elena" ("Elena's Candy")." Eric and his Grandmother share a strong love for each other, bound, in part, by the riches of their shared music. "Even today," writes Velasquez, "I imagine I'm back in Grandma's living room and she turns to me and says, "You be the DJ today. Siempre me gusta tu seleccion." ("I always like your selection.")

First published in 1991, this is one of the best books for kids and adults I've read this year. By the way, Eric Velasquez received the Codetta Scott King/John Steptoe Award for New Talent for his illustrations in "The Piano Man." I recommend "Grandma's Records" with a sense of discovery and enthusiasm!

Now Playing: "TOOTH - GNASHER SUPERFLASH," by Daniel Pinkwater
Topic: Daniel and Jill Pinkwater
Early Pinkwater One of His Best

First published in 1981, the "Tooth-Gnasher Superflash" has all the ingredients that go into a "Pinkwater." These include silly sounding names such as "Mr. Popsnorkle" (other books include a "Mr. Plumbean" and "Mr. and Mrs. Submarine"); unusual visuals (Popsnorkle floats sideways over his worn out Thunderclap-Eight); improbable situations, exemplified here by the Popsnorkle-driven Superflash turning into a turtle, a dinosaur, and a flying chicken; and, most famously, Pinkwater's signature dry, subtle-yet-silly humor:

"'Look!' shouted the five little Popsnorkles.'The Tooth Gnasher Superflash!'" (NOTE: We see a picture of the Popsnorkles and a salesman wearing an orange suit standing next to a light blue racing vehicle.)

"'It is a pretty color,' said Mrs. Popsnorkle. (It was light blue)."

"'May I show you the new Tooth-Gnasher Superflash? We only have one left.'"

"'Is it the light-blue one?' Mrs. Popsnorkle asked."

That interchange may go right past some little ones' heads, but like the best kids' humor, it can be appreciated at many levels (think "Bullwinkle"). As mentioned above, when Popsnorkle takes the wheel and starts pressing buttons, the Tooth Gnasher Superflash transforms itself into a series of impossible (and sometimes extinct) animals. The exuberance of the Popsnorkles combined with the increasingly fearful face of the salesman in the back seat create a farcical scene made even more spectacular by the Superflash's many forms (though it always remains a nice light blue, even when it looks like a big elephant).

The very perplexed salesman takes "lots of money," and the Popsnorkles drive off in the Tooth-Gnasher. The last paragraph does not disappoint, as Pinkwater manages to inject yet another surprise in this creative, silly, and fun book. Highly recommended for almost anyone that can appreciate the Pinkwaterian style; this book may very well make a fan out of you! As there are several books by Daniel Pinkwater (some of the later ones beautifully, whimsically illustrated by his spouse, Jill Pinkwater), you'll be in for a treat.

Now Playing: "Sam and the Firefly," by P. D. Eastman
They Fly by Night

This is a great going-to-bed book-but only for the first seven pages. During this opening sequence, Sam the Owl calls out "who wants to play," but the misty blue-grey landscape reveals sleeping animals only. Then, on pages 8-9, Sam sees the light-or rather-a light, the one on the tail of the very spirited Gus the Firefly! Following Sam, firefly Gus illuminates the night sky with zigs and zags, and he begins to spell brightly lit words in the night sky. Intoxicated by the power of words, Gus misdirects airplanes, advertises a "FREE SHOW" at the theater, changes "hot dogs" to "COLD dogs," and performs other `bad tricks.' But what will happen when the understandably angry hotdog seller captures Gus?

P. D. Eastman's enduring story is funny, exciting, and easy to read. The firefly's bright yellow words are dazzling, especially for small fry, and the story shows the power of words (for good and for bad) and the value of friendship. A great find you may remember from years past, this is another fine volume in the "Beginners Book" series from Random House.

Now Playing: "The Saturday Kid," by Edward Sorel (Illustrator), Cheryl Carlesimo
What I Learned at the Movies

The beautiful, stylized illustrations of the great Edward Sorel not only evoke 1930's New York, but also celebrate the icons and sociology of that place and time. For Sorel, who dedicates the book "To the New York City of my childhood," it was apparently a time of visible class differences (symbolized by neighborhood bully Morty, middle class hero Leo, and drawings of the disdainful rich) and social turmoil (fervent activists lecture passersby near a building with huge NRA signs). Leo is what the movies used to call "a good boy," he diligently practices his violin, and he's grateful for opportunities big (he's filmed playing the violin for Fiorella LaGuardia!) and small (a 20-cent pie at the Automat). Most importantly, the respectable Leo doesn't actually fight Morty, instead, he fantasizes revenge in daydreams reenacting scenes from his beloved Bogart, Robinson, Cagney, and Flynn adventure films.

Sorel draws big screen style pictures of these daydreams, placing young Leo en scene with his movie idols. Cagney shoots Bogart and Robinson as Leo handcuffs Morty; Errol Flynn gives a winning smile as he watches young Leo disarm "Senor Morty's" sword with a thrust--of his violin bow. Sorel's pictures replicate the high contrast, angular language of these films. Leo is not himself violent (Bogart, the person, did not really murder anyone). and his daydreams are recognizable escapes into imagined glory.

There's a rather old-fashioned resolution to this story as well. It takes place in the exquisitely drawn movie theater, Loew's Paradise. After watching the newsreel of Leo playing before the mayor, Morty's parents congratulate the young violinist: "... [Morty's] mother told Leo's mother how much she wished she had a son who could play the violin." (Ouch!) Morty, scowling, hands in pocket and hunched over, looks away. And though "Leo almost felt sorry for him," his proud, upright posture doesn't look very sympathetic. These are the mean streets of Depression-era NYC, and Sorel doesn't sugarcoat the times. While this seemed a bit harsh and abrupt, it's probably also a more accurate portrayal of "conflict resolution" in Leo and Morty's New York. Sorel could treated this with the modern, healthier, talk-it-over approach, but that wouldn't have fit this particular slice of the Big Apple. An excellent book by a superb illustrator.

Now Playing: "A Camping Spree With Mr. Magee," by Chris Van Dusen
Topic: Chris Van Dusen
No One Does it Like Van Dusen!

When I read Chris Van Dusen's other book in this series "Down to the Sea with Mr. Magee," I was completely amazed. His super-detailed work, vivid gouache colors, and multiple perspectives just jumped off the page. There was a 50's retro style and setting, and a magical realism that recalls the best of Pixar animation. Much of that is evident in the sequel, "A Camping Spree with Mr. Magee," including the super-realism, and the bold colors and perspectives, but it doesn't quite match up with the first book.

I think that Van Dusen's visuals work especially well when he's illustrating light, water, and various shades of blue; the ocean surfaces of `Down to the Sea..' offers more of these visuals than the mountain setting here. However, when we see a glimpse of the ocean, or the metallic/rubber looking Rambler (yes, it really looks like a combination of a 1950's toy with some kind of hard rubber coating!) in which he and his dog Dee drive up to the mountains, that astonishingly fresh retro-style triumphs. However, there are fewer of these views here, and Magee does not linger long enough before the trip for us to view van Dusen's 1950's-inspired depictions of their home and quaint village.

Still, Van Dusen is one of the most original illustrator/writes working these days, and it's a treat to find this second "Magee" tale. While I was somewhat spoiled by the magical pictures in the first book, this one probably has a more exciting story, and there are enough Dusen-style pictures to keep you riveted. This is a fun all-rhyming story that quickly engages the reader. A comically drawn big black bear unhitches their trailer (inside of which Magee and dog are sleeping inside it) while going after a bag of marshmallows: The excitement begins as the trailer "flew down the road in a wild, bumpy ride, with DEE and MAGEE sleeping soundly inside." They're heading for a waterfall, but fortunately, "their camper got stuck on a rock at the ledge." You may notice (in this and other scenes) how superbly van Dusen captures the colors of the river, and adds excitement by using different vantage points.

Of course, the bear inadvertently rescues them, and there's a home sweet home last page. Definitely worth your time, although I would give the edge to "Down to the Sea with Mr. Magee." Let's hope we see a lot more from this very enjoyable and original talent.

Now Playing: "That's exactly the way it wasn't," by James Stevenson
Wainey Returns in a Wild Tall Tale

When Mary Ann and Louie can't stop arguing, their parents send them on a walk in another great James Stevenson book about the kids' grandfather and his brother, "Wainey." Explaining their situation, their grandfather and Wainey reminisce about their own experience as young arguing brothers. Told in an extended flashback (though, once again, the very young Grandpa and Wainy both sport moustaches), this wild, silly, and exciting tall tale will delight most toddlers and young children.

Grandpa how Wainey couldn't agree with anything, and--Rashoman-like--Wainey claims that Grandpa was the disagreeable one. The alternate versions are just part of the fun. Their own, somewhat more stern parents similarly tell young Grandpa and Wainey to take a long walk, "and don't come back until you agree on something!" Wainey, with his trademark "Nump" (this is very funny to read aloud) repeatedly disagrees with the most factual of young Grandpa's observations on their walk. The stroll turns into a series of semi-perilous adventures, including a landslide ("rocks," according to Wainey) from which they are saved by a talking purple armadillo. In a hilarious sequence, Grandpa "hushed hundreds of ducks and geese" so he can find the lost Wainey:

"At last, I had it down to one `WAH"...but it wasn't Wainey. It was just a parrot imitating the ducks and the geese."

Of course, Wainey, has an entirely different version of the landslide and the armadillo, which is just as silly and unbelievable as Grandpa's version. Things get a little scarier as they fall safely off a cliff into a giant cave--or the moth of an iguana (depending on whose version you read). They get out of the situation either by Wainey's irritating crying or Grandpa's boring speech. They two brothers eventually wind up on top of a gigantic, hot and bubbling, cherry pie, and they finally agree on something" They want to go home! As in "We Hate Rain," it all ends happily in the present with the kids, Grandpa, and Wainey enjoying some ice cream.

Stevenson's signature style graces the entire book. The alternating but equally outlandish stories are captivating and very funny, and Stevenson's whimsy shows in his casual illustrations. (Yet, it's mostly presented n a straight, manner-of-fact style, without the exclamatory emphases of someone like the talented, but differently attuned, Dave Pilkey.) Stevenson is a regular contributor to the New Yorker and other publications, and has written many other books (several featuring Grandpa and Wainey) that you'll enjoy immensely.