“The Alphabet Keeper” is the story of an alphabet that has been held captive–caged and in the dark–by a mean alphabet keeper. The letters make a brave escape through an open window one day while she’s cleaning the cage. Though the alphabet keeper tries over and over to catch them, the letters outwit her by doing things like turning her plans into plants and her hedges into edges. They eventually fly to the moon (by turning a rock into a rocket and a moo into a moon), “and the alphabet keeper will never get them back.”
The alphabet keeper herself has a “Persepolis” like quality: black hair, big eyes, strong eyebrows, and a matronly knot on the top of her head. She’s a convincing captor who gets the dark ending that she deserves. In contrast, the letters are mischievous and sprightly, their counters filled with eyeballs and their stems notched with grins. They whiz and fly about with visible joy.
The word play aspect of the book is completely over Zadie’s head, but she really likes pointing out all the letters and is starting to catch on to the idea that each letter has it’s own sound. I can imagine this book being fun as a kid is learning to read and maybe even more fun once she’s ready for word games.
As a former geologist I’m overly sensitive to intimations that dinosaurs and people overlapped. I have this fear that when kids read books featuring children who find a newly hatched dinosaur or dinosaurs who give their human parents goodnight kisses, they’ll start buying into the idea that the dinosaurs went extinct because humans didn’t invite them onto the Ark. The fact that no person has ever seen a living dinosaur means that any books featuring the two species have to somehow convey a sense of fantasy, which can be tricky when you’re writing for toddlers.
We’re reading in themes these days, or at least in two themes: zoos and dinosaurs. We lucked out again on the zoo front by finding “A Zoo for Mister Muster” at the library last week. “A Zoo for Mister Muster” was published almost 40 years ago. I don’t remember reading this one as a kid, but I read a lot of books that had a similar feel. The peachy tones overlain by sketchy black lines are like the words to nursery rhymes: You might have forgotten them after the 6th grade, but they come back in a flood of familiarity as soon as you’re re-exposed to them with your child. When I read this one to Zadie, I kind of feel like I’m sharing a bit of my childhood with her.
There are a lot of Zadie’s books that I love, but few that I find myself relating to as an adult. Yes, “
This book is currently on Zadie’s list of haunted items in our house. We’ve witnessed the posession of toys before, but this is the first time it has happened to a book. I usually have no idea why a once-beloved object (a benign plastic boat, a green monkey, a flashcard with a baboon on it…) becomes taboo. In the case of “Boo Hoo Bird” I have a guess.
During the one year I spent living in San Diego, the lack of winter didn’t bother me, but the lack of rain was really unsettling. As an east coaster, I’d never realized how much I relied on rainy days as an excuse to do quiet things inside and work through blue thoughts. Rather than being a shining respite from the dreary grey springs of Cape Cod, the perpetual sunshine in Southern California seemed an affront to my occasional need to wallow. Wong Herbert Lee’s “Who Likes Rain?” captures the range of feelings we, and other creatures, experience on rainy days–from boredom to contemplation and elation.
We first discovered Emily Gravett’s “Monkey and Me,” a couple of months ago and fell in love with her style. I’m almost positive that if we owned a copy of it Zadie would want to read nothing else. So we just read it at the library–several times on each trip–and in between trips we talk about looking for it at the library and reading it again. Given the level of obsession that has surrounded “Monkey and Me” at our house, I hesitated a bit before checking out “The Odd Egg” this morning. It’s only been 12 hours, but I think “Monkey and Me” might have some competition.
“Balloons, Balloons, Balloons” tells the story of a town of bunnies that mysteriously becomes blanketed in balloons. At first, the balloons are greeted with delight. But as the balloons filter into the streets, pools, and office buildings, we see shopkeepers and streetsweepers frowning as they try to maintain order. Meanwhile children continue to play happily with the balloons on the bus, in the pool, and at school. The various reactions the bunnies have make you think about how you define having too much of a good thing.
Right around the time that Zadie started to take an interest in reading–rather than eating–books, I read a 
The text on each page is short, which makes it perfect for little ones who are moving beyond board books but are sometimes overly eager to turn the page. And I love love love the illustrations, which are watercolor and ink but almost look like woodcuts. After just a reading or two, little Z had picked up on each animal’s emotions–a testament to Henkes’ ability to portray both sadness and joy. I was sad to take this one back to the library this afternoon, but am quite excited that we’re getting Z “Kitten’s First Full Moon” for Christmas.