BOOK OF BIG BROTHERS

Written By Cary Fagan

Illustrated by Luc Melanson

(Groundwood Books, 2010)

I don’t usually go for endearing when I’m picking out books about siblings.  Experience tells me bratty and annoying lead to funnier reads.  But I’ve groaned when reading a few recent books that feature pesky siblings.  Sometimes it’s just too much.  Perhaps that’s part of the reason I kept reading Book of Big Brothers when it became clear from the first pages that the book was a tribute to older siblings rather than a platform to humorously disparage them.  The real reason that I persevered, however, is due to the author.  Cary Fagan wrote one of my all-time favorite picture books, the utterly delightful Thing-Thing.  For me, anything he writes deserves a read. 

There is a sense of nostalgia that comes from reading this book.  I may not have had such endearing moments growing up with my siblings, but it is nice to think Fagan—or anyone—may have.  Jerry Spinelli masterfully evoked nostalgia regarding his childhood in Knots in My Yo-yo String:  The Autobiography of a Kid and Fagan’s Big Brothers ably takes the baton handoff. 

The story begins with the boy narrator relating the story of his arrival home from the hospital after birth.  His two older brothers drop him—not due to being cloddish or evil imbeciles but on account of their excitement to be the first brother to hold the newest member of the family.  The anecdotes of the boys’ growing up together lack incidents of teasing the baby brother.  (Indeed, there is one tale of the youngest having the upper hand on them.)  Fagan’s storytelling is as appealing as ever.  Take this description of when the narrator had to stay home sick on a school day:

At recess time I could hear the kids shouting in the school yard.  The afternoon dragged on and on.  It felt like the whole world had forgotten me.

Yes, it’s a far car from “Ferris Bueller’s Day Off”.  Endearing, to be sure.

Fagan goes on to portray the big brothers as protectors, entertainers, death-of-a-pet consolers and sparkly-ideas-gone-wrong co-conspirators.  Many a parent will read this book and find it a pure work of fiction.  I can picture a mother or father giving the book a bedtime read, sitting between two siblings and interjecting, “Now why can’t you two be like that?!”  But in most homes, even my own, there are (were) such moments.  Sometimes we just have to jog our memories a little more.

Luc Melanson’s illustrations add to the nostalgic feel with a heavy dose of muted greens, blues and reds.  The humans are simplistically drawn in sharp contrast to some of the realism that pops up in furniture, a shoe tread and a Lego robot.

The text is far longer than most of the current crop of picture books.  I’ve attended conferences and heard agents and editors continue to lower the word count maximum for picture books:  1,000…800…500.  Yes, these limits make the slush pile more manageable, but I am glad that Groundwood Books allowed the author the chance to tell the whole story rather demanding the equivalent to a highlight reel.

THING-THING

Written by Cary Fagan

Illustrations by Nicolas Debon

(Tundra Books, 2008)

Perhaps this book appeals to me due to my lifelong affinity for The Island of Misfit Toys from "Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer". But that's only the beginning. Thing-Thing tells the story of what happens when a spoiled brat named Archibald Crimp (no doubt, a second cousin of Veruca Salt) unceremoniously rejects his father's latest desperate birthday gift, pitching it out a sixth floor window of the Excelsior Hotel.

That gift is Thing-Thing, a strange stuffed animal—"not quite a bunny, but not quite a dog either." The remainder of the book chronicles the rejected toy's adventure as it descends toward the busy city sidewalk below. Floor by floor, we see a variety of activities momentarily interrupted by Thing-Thing sightings. There's a distraught hockey player nursing an injury, a crazed businessman shucking a 17-battery must-have and then there's a love-struck Alex, nervously attempting to propose to the more assured Bethany.

The pages alternate from Thing-Thing's world en plein air to the simultaneous life moments inside the Excelsior. Nicolas Debon's illustrations match the text perfectly, mixing up the point of view. At times, the toy looks in; in other instances, the hotel patrons look out. Perhaps the most engaging pictures capture the fall, from aerial and side views. The book's design is also fresh, with curvy text and falling letters. One spread is a centerfold, requiring the reader to turn the book to read, as a nesting robin observes Thing-Thing's descent. As a bonus, the book jacket, when removed and reversed becomes a poster.

For the squeamish, rest assured, there is a happy ending, at least for Thing-Thing, if not Archibald.

I have read this book several times to primary and early intermediate classes and it is always a hit. Thing-Thing is instantly likable. The changing perspectives make for a lively read. While all the hotel characters attract interest, nothing catches kids' attention quite like the boy-girl scene with hearts dancing around their heads, topped by reference to a kiss. "EWWWW!" Yes, they love it.

And so do I. Not just one page, but the whole darned thing. For me, Thing-Thing is just the thing!