scrounge: /skrounj/ informal verb: to actively seek [books] from any available source
Finally! I've been waiting for this book to come along -- I just didn't realize it. John Ronald's Dragons does a wonderful job of interspersing a biography of J.R.R. Tolkien with one of the fantastical elements he's known for: dragons. Whether he's enjoying himself or experiencing great difficulties such as the loss of his mother as a boy, and World War I as a soldier, Tolkien's imagination helps him to cope.
It isn't until he takes a teaching position at Oxford that his imagination leads him to a hobbit named Bilbo Baggins, who in turn finally leads him on a long quest to his dragon. The story actually doesn't cover any details of Tolkien publishing his writing, nor does it mention The Lord of the Rings. It simply leaves him to "follow" his dragon through some familiar Middle Earth landscapes until he finds Smaug in the Lonely Mountain. The ending would probably seem abrupt if it wasn't so fantastical.
I'm sure this story will appeal to any fan of Tolkien. For children, it's a great introduction to the author of Middle Earth. While children who are unfamiliar with the series will not experience the "Yay, Bilbo!" moment that us adults do when Tolkien finally writes the first line of The Hobbit on a blank piece of paper, the dragons alone should be enough to pique the interest of a child. This story also manages to give good details without being too wordy. The end notes include a bibliography and some other detailed notes by the author and the illustrator.
Scrounged From: Our local library
Format: Hardcover
Author: Caroline McAlister
Illustrator: Eliza Wheeler
Pages: 48
Content Advisory: Tolkien's mother's death is mentioned briefly, as well as the destruction of war. The story contains many illustrations of dragons, but they are presented in an intriguing, fantastical manner and are not intended to terrify.
It's not very often that I find myself tearing up at the end of a picture book -- the ending in this case was simple enough that I almost didn't get it at first, but once it sunk in I couldn't help but think how brilliant and well done this was.
After the Fall: How Humpty Dumpty Got Back Up Again is about, as the title implies, Humpty Dumpty. It picks up where the nursery rhyme left off -- with an egg-like individual who, while the King's men managed to put most of him together (at King's County Hospital, of course), is realizing that there are parts of him that are still very much not back together. Humpty develops a fear of heights that keeps him from enjoying many of the things he likes, such as bird-watching.
But after overcoming a few setbacks, Humpty finally gains enough courage to attempt something he wasn't sure he'd ever do again: climbing that wall.
The thing is, this book could have been done so badly. How many "updated" nursery or fairy tales have come and gone that have done nothing but leave a bad taste in our mouths? How many sappy "self-esteem" or "inspirational" picture books have we sat through that, while well intentioned, gave us little more than a contrived, feel-good sort of message? Somehow those pitfalls were avoided here, at least in my opinion (and it seems many others too). Humpty soars.
Scrounged From: Our local library
Format: Hardcover
Author/illustrator: Dan Santat
Pages: 40
Content Advisory: None
Well, after my last picture book post (about Seven Spools of Thread) this makes back-to-back posts about picture books featuring seven siblings! Odd, considering I grew up as the oldest of seven children. Given that fact, I'm amazed I hadn't encountered Mary Ann Hoberman's The Seven Silly Eaters until just a few days ago.
This story is not only sweet and silly, but it's written entirely in rhyme -- and well-written rhyme with a consistent meter and without a bunch of awkward/forced phrasing, which makes it even better. The verses chronicle the growth of the Peters family -- from one to seven children, as their mother, Mrs. Peters (who is FAR more of a saint than I am) patiently prepares more and more special foods as the family grows, since each picky eater has only one particular food that they eat (this is the silly part, because obviously no one could survive on any of those foods alone -- pink lemonade, applesauce, milk, etc. -- and I also don't think this book is suggesting that anyone should go to these kinds of lengths to indulge picky eating).
Finally, she is so worn out that she goes to bed, wondering if anyone remembers that it's her birthday the next day. Her children do, and take it upon themselves to bake something, but their attempts -- which will surely strike terror into the heart of any neat freak (or any parent, for that matter) -- seem to be futile, especially when all their foods get combined.
The ending is so cute, and I especially like the detail in the illustrations that shows Mrs. Peters practicing her cello -- the more kids she has, the less she does it, but once the children all begin learning to help out in the kitchen, we see her doing it again. I thought this story was a great combination of reality and absurdity, and certainly portrays moments that would be familiar to anyone who grew up in (or parents/parented) a large family.
After reading this, I wondered whether anyone had actually come up with a recipe to fit this story. Well, this is the internet, so of course they did: here's one blog which took the recipe right from the author's website. We haven't tried it yet, but it looks like fun and I bet the kids will especially like making something they've already read about in a book.
Scrounged From: Our local library
Format: Paperback
Author: Mary Ann Hoberman
Illustrator: Marla Frazee
Pages: 38
Content Advisory: None
Book Scrounger's note: The following is a guest review by Doug, a.k.a. Professor Puzzler.
Color and Light was a Christmas gift Book Scrounger gave me this year. Now it's two days later, and I've already finished reading it, but I intend to keep it close at hand for a long time, because it is a fantastic reference work for artists, and it has plenty of beautiful paintings to study and learn from.
This book was written by James Gurney, the creator of Dinotopia. Dinotopia is a fantasy land in which humans co-exist with intelligent dinosaurs. It has been described as a fully-imagined world on par with Tolkien's Middle Earth. I've never read Dinotopia, but Gurney's artwork is beautiful. He describes himself as an "Imaginative Realist."
As someone who is interested in both art and science, I found this book fascinating and informative. Gurney doesn't just talk through how to draw a rainbow -- he explains why rainbows exist, and how they relate to the position of the sun and the antisolar point. What? You don't know what the antisolar point is? I guess you'd better read this book!
Seriously, maybe you're wondering why you need to know the science behind rainbows, or shadows, or reflections in the water. Aside from the fact that these things are interesting, they're also very valuable if you're painting something from your imagination. If you're going to paint a rainbow in an imagined scene, you must understand how rainbows work, or you won't be able to position the rainbow correctly relative to the horizon, the sun, and the cast shadows all around. And if you can't do that, you can't make a picture look realistic. People will always look at your artwork and think, "Something's not quite right..."
Aside from the informative text, this book is filled with beautiful artwork. It begins with some of the traditional "masters," but then moves on to Gurney's own work. He includes some plein-air paintings, as well as many of his imaginative paintings involving dinosaurs and other creatures. Most of the pictures are oil paintings or watercolor paintings, but there is very little in the book that is specific to any particular medium, so if you use acrylics, colored pencils, or other media, this book will still be valuable.
I just discovered that Gurney also wrote a book titled Imaginative Realism: How to Paint What Doesn't Exist. Ah, well...I guess I've got a birthday coming up in a few months...
Scrounged From: Amazon
Format: Paperback
Author: James Gurney
Illustrator: James Gurney
Pages: 224
Content Advisory: Realistic artwork involving dinosaurs and some "creepy" creatures.
Christmas may be over, but Kwanzaa begins today, December 26 (and runs through January 1), so today's post will feature a children's book that tells a Kwanzaa story. Seven Spools of Thread begins with a brief introduction to Kwanzaa as well as to the seven principles it incorporates.
The story is about a father in Ghana whose seven sons argue with each other from sun-up to sun-down. When their father dies, he leaves them seven spools of thread, and tells them that they will not be allowed to inherit his property unless they can turn the thread to gold by the time the moon rises that night. The brothers are stunned and realize they will have to learn to work together.
I thought the story did a good job of communicating cooperation especially, and how its benefits can be far reaching. The story feels very much like a folktale, and the illustrations are bold and vibrant. The note at the beginning of the book says that all seven principles of Kwanzaa (called the "Nguzo Saba") are incorporated into the story in some way, and so it is an interesting challenge for the reader to try and identify the place(s) where each appears. This is a good example of storytelling that is simple but also thoughtful -- introducing some moral ideas without hitting the reader over the head with them.
At the end of the book, a tutorial on weaving is included.
Scrounged From: Our local library
Format: Hardcover
Author: Angela Shelf Medearis
Illustrator: Daniel Minter
Pages: 40
Content Advisory: None