RIDING THE TIGER

Written by Eve Bunting 

Illustrated by David Frampton (Clarion Books, 2001)

While I adore picture books that make me laugh, I am awed by picture books that address complex subject matter deeply and memorably in a mere thirty-two pages. Riding the Tiger is a meaningful book deserving an annual read in families beginning when a child is about eight years old and continuing through adolescence. 

The direct topic involves gang membership, but the story is written broadly enough to generate discussions about drug culture and the dangers of peer pressure. Complex matter, indeed. Danny is alone. His particular circumstance is that he has just moved to a new area, but other vulnerable children may be socially isolated for other reasons. A tiger approaches. A tiger! How cool, how fierce, how flattering. 

The tiger offers, “Why don’t you hop on my back and we’ll take a ride.” 

Irresistible, right? 

If cavorting with a tiger doesn’t seem dangerous enough, red flags are raised when Danny says, “I’ll have to tell my mom where I’m going” and the tiger responds, “If you do, she won’t let you.” 

Initially, riding the tiger is exhilarating. Danny and the tiger get noticed. But the people who notice don’t seem happy to see the tiger on the prowl. People clear the way whenever the tiger approaches. Danny is impressed. The tiger explains, “I always get respect. And whoever is with me gets respect, too.” 

An older teen playing basketball invites Danny to get off the tiger’s back and join in the game. The tiger disdainfully says that guy is always going on about options. What could be better than hanging with an all-powerful tiger? 

Oh, and, getting off is NOT an option at all. And that is Danny’s dilemma. He’s been swept up by the tiger’s power. The awe wanes. Caution, even fear, emerge. But how can he break free from the claws of the beast? 

Many young readers will not understand the symbolism on the initial reading. Some parents or teachers may wish to keep the discussion to a strangely literal story about a boy swept under the rule of a tiger in an urban environment. A subsequent read—the next day or perhaps the next year—may lead to more insight from the listener. I would prod the audience. Is that all there is to the story? How does this make sense? Talking tigers on the loose in the city? What is the author’s message? Who is the tiger supposed to be? Help the audience come up with some ideas. Symbolism can be difficult for younger children. 

Once the story is explained, I would read the story again to allow the audience to see how the symbolism fits on every page. The a-ha moments can be shared and discussed. 

This book needs to be revisited. Use it to discuss peer pressure as well as to talk about the dangers posed by drug dealers and gang members. Scary stuff? Absolutely! That is why Eve Bunting chose as tiger as the alluring antagonist. David Frampton’s dark woodcut illustrations perfectly complement the text to create a dangerous tone. 

Riding the Tiger is an important book that should not be overlooked.

GERALD McBOING BOING

Written by Dr. Seuss

Pictures adapted by Mel Crawford

(Random House, 1950)

When I think of Dr. Seuss books that have a prominent message, The Lorax, The Butter Battle Book and Oh, the Places You’ll Go! come to mind. I don’t believe Dr. Seuss penned the story for the Oscar-winning animated short “Gerald McBoing Boing” with any serious intent, but I do find something deeper behind the fun, particularly in the context of today’s education system.

On a surface level, this story is about a misunderstood boy who, like that reindeer Rudolph, is too different to be accepted by playmates, teachers and even his father. It’s not Gerald’s nose; rather, it’s his voice. As a baby, his first clear utterance isn’t “Mama”; no, it’s “BOING BOING!” Little Gerald doesn’t speak words. He makes sound effects.

Horrors.

When his parents send him to school, Gerald is sent home with a note from his teacher:

You little son Gerald’s
a most hopeless boy.
We cannot accept him,
for we have a rule
That pupils must not go
Cuckoo in our school.
Your boy will go HONK
all his life, I’m afraid,
Sincerely yours, Fanny Schultz,
Teacher, First Grade.

Subjected to ridicule and rejection, Gerald runs away. Fortunately, he meets the owner of a radio station who sees Gerald’s quirk as an employable asset. And just like Rudolph, Gerald is warmly accepted (even revered) by those who’d once viewed him as hopelessly flawed.

Sixty-two years ago, many children were outright denied access to the school system. Many educators like the fictitious Fanny Schultz deemed some kids uneducable. While I am sure Dr. Seuss meant for this story to be about accepting, even appreciating, differences in people, I doubt he wrote it as an indictment of the state of special education. Still, I can’t read this adapted version of the film without thinking of children who have used communication boards and assistive technology to better express themselves in regular classrooms. I also think of parents who struggle to come to terms with the reality that their child has special needs. Gerald’s father, Mr. Cloy, reacts with despair, shame, even anger. For many parents, there is a grief process that precedes understanding and acceptance.

This is yet another book to add to a class library collection on bullying and putdowns. But it is also a valuable discussion starter for identifying each child’s strengths and celebrating these gifts.

The illustrations in Gerald McBoing Boing may disappoint. They are not the work of Dr. Seuss, but have been adapted by Mel Crawford from the animated work of Bill Melendez, Rudy Larriva, Pat Matthew, Willis Pyle and Frank Smith. If the book is used at home or in school, I suggest following up with a viewing of the six-minute animated short. The film supplants words like boing and cuckoo with the conventional sound effects, making it clearer that Gerald does indeed have something truly special to offer.

I CAN READ WITH MY EYES SHUT!

By Dr. Seuss

(Random House, 1978)

In honor of Dr. Seuss’s birthday, this post focuses on one of the master’s lesser known works, a book I believe deserves more attention.

When I pull out I Can Read with My Eyes Shut!, not many children or adults recognize it. The book is not a Dr. Seuss classic and, heavens, it will never become a movie starring the hot comedian du jour. This despite the fact that the Cat in the Hat is the main character.

Still, I like to use this book as one of my first read-alouds at the beginning of the year. In fact, I often read it two or three times. I challenge the audience to think critically about the message. Is there even a message other than that crocodiles look silly in pants and knees on trees are even sillier?

At its core, this book goes beyond helping beginning readers. It is a springboard for thinking about how we read and why we read. One part rubs me the wrong way: “You have to be a speedy reader ‘cause there’s so, so much to read!” The last thing I want is for young readers to race through the pages of a book the way they whiz through math facts or run to the sycamore tree to avoid being the rotten egg. Reading goes deeper. (Yes, so does math.) Reading is an interactive experience between an author’s words, an illustrator’s pictures (when they exist) and a reader’s own thoughts and images. Speed reading compromises all components, but may wholly eliminate the reader’s own contribution to the process of understanding and appreciating. I have always been a slow reader. I like to ponder the word choice, the message and my own thoughts and reactions. I can’t imagine short-changing my experience for the sake of speed.

Thankfully, one of Seuss’s most quoted statements also appears in the book:
The more that you read,
the more things you will know.
The more that you learn,
the more places you’ll go.

That is something the good Doctor and I can agree on!

NOTHING LIKE A PUFFIN

Written by Sue Soltis

Illustrated by Bob Kolar

(Candlewick Press, 2011)

Dogs, cats, men, women, Mars, Venus, animal, vegetable, mineral...we spend much of our time categorizing and pointing out the differences in objects and beings. As the title suggests, Nothing Like a Puffin begins this way. A ladder is nothing like a puffin. Neither is a house.

But then the lines start to blur. A newspaper cannot be like a puffin. Hey, wait! Both are black and white. Sue Soltis strikes a wry, conversational tone as her text gasps, “What are the chances? A newspaper is something like a puffin, after all.” Golly, gee!

Well, that must have been an odd blip. There are always exceptions. But, really, aside from a newspaper, there is nothing like a puffin. Hey, wait! (Again?) Yes, as the puffin drifts from page to page, it turns out that commonalities can be drawn between puffins and all kinds of things. Shucks. Maybe a puffin isn’t special at all. Or, ahem, maybe it is.

Gosh, how utterly confusing! Reminds me of the first time I had to complete a Venn diagram or the first time I read fiery pro and con letters to the editor about Canada’s policy of multiculturalism. Of course, Soltis and Kolar make the examination of similarities and differences so much more fun. I can smile, even laugh, and totally avoid the bottle of Tylenol.

Bob Kolar’s digital illustrations are vibrant and cheerful with many of the images reminding me of the cut-out art of Henri Matisse. Yes, the clouds, the puffin’s wings and even its tail are just like Matisse’s cut-out creations. But wait! The ladder and the human figures are nothing like Matisse’s cut-outs. Well, they are brightly colored, too. Similarities, differences,...it’s all a matter of degree.

It just dawned on me that apples and oranges may also have more in common than what distinguishes them. Wow. I feel another headache coming on. Let me just back up, dive back into Nothing Like a Puffin and enjoy it for its considerable entertainment value.

LET'S DO NOTHING!

By Tony Fucile

(Candlewick Press, 2009)

Bored. So bored.

Maybe it’s pouring rain on the day you’d planned to dig a hole to China. Maybe it’s dinnertime and you’re stuck at the table as Uncle Howard and Aunt Beatrice provide every detail about their visit to DoilyWood. (Please tell me there is no such place.) Maybe you’re stuck with your mom in a shoe store as she narrows things down to forty-six pairs of black high heels she’d like to try on to go with the black dress she finally picked on this same never-ending shopping excursion.

Yep. We’ve all been there. Bored.

Nothing to do. Doing nothing.

It’s all out of our control.

But author/illustrator Tony Fucile adds a twist. What if we take control and actually try to do nothing?

Frankie and Sal are best buds who embark on a quest for the zen of true nothingness. Sal’s the director. He sets the scene. Frankie is the well-intentioned boy whose overactive imagination sabotages nothing (or everything).

First up, Sal suggests they sit like statues in a park. Sit. Sit. Not a sound. Sit. Not a movement. Sit. Doing nothing is easy! But then Frankie envisions pigeons at the park, scanning the ground for worms, seeds and melting clomps from roadkill ice cream cones. (Okay, some of that arises from my imagination.) One at a time, the birds perch on one of the statues. Statue Frankie, naturally. Soon Frankie is covered by flapping, fluttering birds. How can anyone stand it?!

Ahhhh! Shoo!

Oops. Frankie did something.

Sal, of course, decides upon another scenario. And Frankie, of course, gamely joins in. Nothing happens. Until, of course, something happens.

Tony Fucile, a Disney animator, creates memorable images of the two main characters. Frankie, in particular, is endearingly drawn with a Barney Rubble tuft of blond hair, a too snug, too short shirt and prominent spectacles. The layout is also refreshing as the story begins immediately. No need to flip past a title page. That feature appears only after the text and pictures build up to Sal’s grand idea: “Let’s Do Nothing!”

This is an incredibly amusing book that everyone who has ever failed at The Silent Game will totally relate to. We like Sal and his creative scene-setting ideas, but Frankie steals the show. (Oh, and maybe Sal’s tiny dog who tunes out the boys and demonstrates what doing nothing is all about.)

Simple, yet brilliant concept. Add Fucile to the list of children’s book creators of whom I am absolutely envious.

ME HUNGRY!

By Jeremy Tankard 

 

(Candlewick Press, 2008) 

Roar! Grr! 

 

Sometimes when me hungry, me act like caveman. Me want food. Me want food now! 

 

Yes, Jeremy Tankard’s amusing picture book captures the primeval instincts that surface when the stomach churns. Caveboy Edwin (yes, Edwin) announces to his preoccupied parents, “Me hungry!” 

They each respond, “Me busy!” 

And so the caveboy sets off on his own hunting mission. 

Not sure that rabbits and porcupines were around in prehistoric times, but this book is not about factual authenticity. It’s a tasty reading snack, not to be intensely analyzed. 

Tankard uses ink and digital media to create simple images with barren, monochromatic backgrounds which I assume are intended to set a primitive tone. Told in simple one-, two- and three-word sentence chunks befitting cavemen, young readers will delight in repeating the phrases. 

Parents may, however, have to caution their children when heading to grandma’s for Sunday dinner. Bold statements like “Me hungry!” may come off as utterly barbaric in certain settings. 

 

Cautionary remarks aside, me like Me Hungry!

TREE RING CIRCUS

By Adam Rex

(Harcourt Books, 2006)

What a difference an ‘H’ makes. Yes, there is no typo in the title. This is a story about a Tree Ring Circus.

It all starts simply enough: “One seed in the ground, three miles out of town.” The seed grows into a massive tree with twisty, knotty limbs and a few last-stand leaves hanging on in autumn. Suddenly the tree becomes a resting place for nearby animals. “3 chipmunks, 2 sparrows, a whopping big bee all live in the tree where the seed used to be.” Whopping big is an understatement. The buzzer is twice the size of the chipmunks and sparrows. Still, there is plenty of room for each critter to settle in.

But more forest animals climb aboard. Along with a clown (as clowns are want to do). More animals, including “a cat who climbed up but can’t find her way down”.

As the type and number of animals are introduced, readers can enjoy a Where’s Waldo accounting of all creatures in the tree. It is also fun to flip back and forth to follow the movement and expressions of each animal. The chicken is rather stoic and sedentary, but I found great amusement in watching the cat take in all the changes.

And the changes become bigger and more startling as a traveling circus stops to search for an escaped clown. I shall not reveal more of the story other than to say the clown is something of a circus trendsetter.

No doubt, this book will produce giggles and gasps as the tree becomes a more popular abode. Tree Ring Circus is first and foremost a delightful source of entertainment. Still, Adam Rex makes a statement about circus animals. A class or a family could go much deeper in exploring the issue. Even better, connect this book with Rex’s zoo-based Pssst! to lead to a bigger discussion about animals in captivity.

I am so thankful Adam Rex turfed the ‘H’!