Wednesday, December 23, 2020

Incredibly Smashing

 The Incredible Record Smashers by Jenny Pearson, illustrated by Erica Salcedo  (Usborne)

Once, in an interview with Shirley Hughes, I read about where she gets the ideas for her books. Having read about her observations of children from the life and then really seeing it in her work, there has been no un-seeing it since: the boldness of children, their reticence, their great joys and their deep sorrows are all there in Hughes' portraits, in the wave of an arm, the inclination of a neck, the pointing of a finger. When a Shirley Hughes picture book is opened, we immediately see not only children, but the child's world, too, through the child's own eyes. And there is no affectation, no sugaring the pill: childhood is an exhilarating time but a confusing and frustrating one too. We know exactly the excited anticipation of Christmas in one of her books but feel the same pain of losing a beloved stuffed toy in another.

Jenny Pearson's writing also has this quality. While her books deal with grief, depression and the troubles of youthful friendships, she provides hope for all her readers by setting out the strengths and resilience of children and the solace that only true friends and family provide. Reading her latest book, The Incredible Record Smashers - which tells the tale of Lucy, her mum, her best friend Sandesh and her eccentric Aunt Sheila - I was reminded again, 'this author knows kids really well!'. This time, though, Shirley Hughes kept popping into my head, too. There are moments in the book where, like Hughes, Pearson captures a fleeting glimpse of the very personal and interior world of the child. Hughes has an eye for this - you can see the emotion in the stance of her children - and it is her genius. With Pearson, its in the instantaneous shift from laughter to tears, the joys and frustrations of childhood, the wildly crazy view of the big, wide world around that touches on the very same artistry.

Pearson sketches out the frangible lines of children's relationships with a canny eye, too: the ways in which the bonds between children - uniquely strong and easily broken or mended in the blink of an eye - are brilliantly realized. In Freddie Yates, it is the weird scrap on the boat between the three boys; in Record Smashers, there's a scene which is at once bursting with anger, hilariously comic, and completely deadpan, where Lucy throws a pre-teen tantrum, only for it to be somehow quashed then incensed further with a bowl of washing-up water. Although Pearson clearly loves her characters, and has the deepest of respect for children, she is not afraid to point out their shortcomings - what's particularly lovely, though, is that this is always done with the kindest and gentlest of smiles.

Let's not forget the way in which she paints her adult characters! Auntie Sheila is the eccentric, full-of-gumption, full-of-love grown up that every child needs in their life. She will inspire the young reader to laugh but also to think, especially about the ways in which love is shared and given. Other 'grown-ups', conversely...well, let's just say that in today's media-wow culture, we need books like Jenny's to prove that real life takes a lot more than celebrity or a TV show can ever provide. 

As with Freddie Yates, the plot is over-the-top, riotous, quite literally 'incredible'. But deep down, is it really? Admittedly, it's unlikely that two children would manage to find their way to a recording studio to present their latest crazy idea involving catching kumquats, simply to meet up with a guy who might just give Lucy's mum the seed of happiness that will grow to crush her depression - unlikely, yes, but to a child the logic of the plan is  both immaculate and inspiringly optimistic: "Why shouldn't it work? Why couldn't it happen?" Again, it's Pearson's sensitivity to the tender inner lives of children and their overwhelming hope that nurtures her storyline here. Children will appreciate that, quite naturally, and be comforted as well as entertained.

While with every passing day all of our lives change and frantically adapt to suit the pressures of modern life, it's reassuring to see with Pearson - as it is with Shirley Hughes - that young people have their 'champions of childhood': brilliant storytellers who see perfectly clearly what it means (and has in fact always meant) to be a child in a confusing world and who are always ready to share their kindness with those attentive ears and eyes who read them; and listen; and see.

The Incredible Record Smashers by Jenny Pearson is published by Usborne on 4th March 2021.

The Guardian interview with Shirley Hughes is here: https://www.theguardian.com/childrens-books-site/2015/jul/06/shirley-hughes-interview-book-trust-lifetime-achievement 

With thanks to Fritha Lindqvist for her help in the preparation of the pictures for this blog. 



Thursday, December 17, 2020

The Gumption Gang

Freddie's Impossible Dream by Nigel Lungenmuss Ward; illustrated by Robbie Lungenmuss-Ward

The Garden Gang by Jayne Fisher (Ladybird Books)  


Growing up as a reader started for me (as it did for many of a certain age) with the  Ladybird Books. Their hardback uniformity was a comfort and as I lined them up on the shelf at the tender age of five or six, they took on the importance of my own personal, miniature library. My mum was a Reception teacher and so, the 'First Book of Words' and even the packs of flashcards (now dubbed 'Vintage', I see, on eBay) were my very first forays into reading books for myself. 

 

Later, came something I remember being almost incredible: 'The Garden Gang' series by Jayne Fisher. These little Ladybird books each contained two stories and told the tales of Betty Beetroot, Wee Willy Watermelon, Penelope Strawberry and sundy other fruit-and-veg characters. I loved their felt-tipped brilliance and quirkiness but what was more extraordinary to me was that they had been written by a nine-year-old girl. Jayne became both a source of inspiration and of mild envy to me! 

 

I've never forgotten what seeing another child's work published in book form meant to me. It seemed dramatically exciting and urgent but also, even though I wrote all sorts of poems and comics and stories in my early writing years, it never seemed like something I could achieve. That's not a feeling I want to pass on to the children I know and teach - it's not OK if they think that ambitious success is beyond their reach. 

 

Well, in a new book from the Lungenmuss-Ward duo there is hope for everyone! 

 

In Freddie's Impossible Dream, the main character - a grown-up - struggles to be taken seriously as a singer. But he perseveres and manages ultimately to fulfil his impossible dream. It's great for children to see adults face difficulties, problems and even ridicule; for them to see that it's not just plain sailing when you grow up; that adulthood doesn't bring everything you ever wanted. In fact, achieving your dream takes time, commitment and sometimes even a bit of luck. 

 

The author's son Robbie (now nine-years old!) has illustrated the book throughout and this is where real inspiration can be found for young people. I love the interplay between word and picture: the written word leaves plenty of room for the pictures to reveal the true joy of the story with Robbie's humour and candid sensitivity to the fore. Robbie's view of the story is always uplifting, even in Freddie's saddest times; there's always some good cheer to be found. It's in these illustrations - that felt-tippy, bright cheerfulness of Jay
ne Fisher blended with a modern comic-strip wit and sensibility redolent of Jeff Kinney and Dav Pilkey (two of Robbie's heroes) - that we see a lightning strike of purest optimism. 

 

Nigel says in an afterword that he wrote the story to encourage his son to follow his dreams and never give up (Robbie wants to be an illustrator and animator).  I'm absolutely sure that this team - this newly founded 'Gumption Gang'! - and their strong bond will inspire a whole new generation of children (and adults too) to see that their voices matter...and never to give up in making those dreams a reality.

***

When you've read a copy, whether it's with an individual child, to a whole class, or even whole school (because this would be great to use in an assembly), you might like to start some book chat to connect the book to you and the children. Here's some starting points for you! 

 

Wondering about the book

  • What makes Freddie want to give up throughout the story? 
  • What makes him want to go on with his singing? 
  • Find (or imagine) all the different feelings that Freddie experiences throughout the story. Sort them into positive and negative groups. What does doing this activity tell you about Freddie's journey to achieving his dreams? 
  • Talk about what Freddie's friends and family say to him throughout the story. 
  • If you could ask Freddie a question, what would you want to know? 

Connecting the book to the reader

  • What do you do that makes you happy? 
  • What hobbies of yours would you like to show to the world?
  • Who are your biggest fans?   
  • Which of the pictures made you feel 'You could do it' if you wanted to achieve your dreams? What about any of Freddie's words or thoughts? Which of them encourage you? 
  • What makes you want to give up sometimes?
  • How did the book make you feel differently about things in your life? 

Thinking about the writer and the illustrator

  • Is it important or relevant to you that the author is a grown-up and the illustrator a child? 
  • Do you think you can tell that the author and illustrator are father and son? 
  • What are your thoughts about what Nigel says in the Afterword? Do you feel he has achieved his second ambition for the book? 

Monday, December 7, 2020

"Definitely Christmas"


Susan Cooper/Carson Ellis - The Shortest Day (Walker, 2019)
Sally Nicholls, illus. Rachel Dean - A Christmas In Time (Nosy Crow, 2020) 
ed. Tanya Kirk - Spirits of the Season / Chill Tidings (British Library, 2019/2020)
Kevin Geddes - It's All in the Booklet: Festive Fun with Fanny Cradock (Fantom Publishing, 2019)
 
Christmas books are legion. In the dark evenings of December, I do love to browse through a few seasonal reads, but I'm fussy and not one to go back time and time again to The Snowman or A Christmas Carol, genius though they both are. Rather, I like a bit of spice to my festive reading and some zesty acidity too - the cloying, sugariness of 'Olde-Worlde Nostalgia' just doesn't cut it for me. So what follows are some recent favourites of mine, which I hope might provide inspiration for stocking fillers or just some personal entertainment for you. 
Where better to begin on these darkling days than with the light that is so beautifully portrayed in Carson Ellis' illustrations for the equally luminescent words of Susan Cooper's The Shortest Day? Throughout, the spreads track the 'Stations of the Sun' both from day to night and from then on into the new day, and from late summer to mid-winter, the golden haze of the year 'dying' and the ice-cold brilliance of winter light. The old traditions of this time of the year are portrayed as something that is in our blood - these are the ways of our ancestors - and both words and pictures make these threads between the past and the present strongly felt: "Through all the frosty ages, you can hear them/Echoing, behind us - listen!"
 
It is these very echoes that answer in Sally Nicholls' latest installment in her time-travel series for younger readers, A Christmas In Time. When Alex and Ruby look through a magic mirror in Aunt Joanna's house, they meet a distant Victorian relative. Their charge is to ensure their cousin, Edith, is not sent away to the charity school that they know all too well from their own time by its terrible renown. Witty dialogue, and sharp characterisation (especially of the very lovable Alex and Ruby) sets this novel apart, and the twisty paradoxes time-travel are deftly drawn with a light touch. Ruby, at the end of the story, re-considers the 'tacky and plasticky' tinsel of modern times with distaste, and reflects on her time-travelling adventure in Victorian times: "[...] that was definitely Christmas'. The bracing visions of Christmases Past in the Cooper/Ellis and the Nicholls certainly provide a different slant (and for some, like me, a much needed one!) on the traditionally cosy festive tale.
 
The British Library continue to amaze with their prolific series, 'Tales of the Weird'. This year, they have republished (thank goodness!) a generous collection of Vernon Lee's supernatural yarns, a fine quartet of the best of Algernon Blackwood, not to mention the irresistible  'Killer Tales of the Botanical Gothic'. But as it's Christmas, I must highlight last year's offering, Spirits of the Season, and its 2020 follow-up, Chill Tidings. Each contains a superb selection of Victorian, Edwardian and mid-twentieth century spook stories, perfect for reading aloud by a crackling fire, or indulgently to yourself while the rest of the family gorge elsewhere on festive editions of 'Strictly' and 'Bake off'). Of the two, Spirits of the Season probably has the edge for me - containing as it does my favourite Christmas ghost story of all: Lucky's Grove by H.R. Wakefield, which frankly defies all belief in its chaotic mixing of Victoriana with Norse mythology - but ghost stories are a fine tradition for this time of year, so I warmly recommend both titles to send a pleasing terror your way this Yuletide!

Finally turning to the (necessary) indulgences of Christmas, and specifically to the Christmases Just-Past of the nineteen-sixties and -seventies, many will consider the redoubtable Fanny Cradock a stalwart of the season. (And if you don't, then I urge you to get straight on to iPlayer to watch the five short programmes she made about preparing your 'Christmas buffet'.) Kevin Geddes, he of @KeepCalmFannyOn, has done all of us a huge favour by re-inventing Fanny's now rare-as-hen's-teeth booklet accompanying the series in It's All in the Booklet. Now we can all gawp in astonishment at the green (yes, green) duchess potatoes, sigh with relief that - unlike 'pa' - we needn't sweat any more over the carving of the bird, and raise a doubtful eyebrow at the so-called 'baveuse' texture of Fanny's mincemeat omelette. Gedde's wonderful (and often hilarious) little volume ('it's actually more of a book') has the look of a 70s original with its lurid colour photography, and certainly promises to be an annual re-read for me. But, as Fanny would say, just don't tell those 'nasty neighbours' that you've finally got a copy. 
Happy Christmas reading!


Sunday, September 27, 2020

A Life in Pictures and Words

Fearless: The Story of Daphne Caruana Galizia by Gattaldo (Otter-Barry, 2020)


When a picture book is published these days I'm always delighted, but it's only a very few that really enter my heart. Fearless: The Story of Daphne Caruana Galizia is one of these: it coruscates in the way it tells this true story. At once there is a deep, strongly-felt passion for the woman that shines out brightly from the forest of other stories about the individual's lone voice, their persistence, their self-belief against adversity; there is also - not overtly, but still there below the surface - the roaring anger about how something so good and so beautiful could be taken from us.

Daphne was a journalist. She fought against injustice and lies. Her real-life story here told in pictures and words focuses on what we can all learn from her example: how our childhood dreams can be fulfilled, the intense place reading can carve out in our imaginations and hearts, the need to think and to ask questions. As Daphne grows up, still her example shines through to us: work hard, love each other, keep fighting the good fight. 

Pictures throughout the book depict a hazy balance between the real world and Daphne's extraordinary, vibrant imagination. Some pages show exactly what was happening in her life - playing with her children while her smiling husband looks on, for instance.  But others turn more surreal: Daphne standing waist-deep in a sea of fish, her pages and pages of written words typed out onto a swirling, almost endless stream of paper, and then that very paper metamorphosing into the snaking necks of a political hydra on the next page. We feel close to Daphne this way, maybe not consciously, but we are seeing the world as she did, stepping from the imaginative, thoughtful world of her creation, into reality, and back again. We're learning what it was like to think and see as Daphne did.

The picturebook story ends with the words, 'Daphne's writing travelled the world and inspired more and more people to speak out. Daphne had persuaded others to continue her work...and make our world a better place' and we can leave it there - the picturebook has done its work to inspire and engage and - most importantly! - to make the young reader think. But then we turn the final page and in an almost painfully brilliant flash we step out of the picturebook and into the reality of our heroine's story. 

Words tell us that Daphne was murdered, her story was cut short. 

But pictures tell us something else too, something that is Daphne's real legacy. We see Daphne smiling out at us from sharply coloured photographs, the soft pastel images of the rest of the book thrown into stark relief. Here is Daphne at the zoo with her three children, her mother, her sisters; calling out to us here - on the same page as the words that reveal the horrible truth - is family, connections, love

There is also a letter from the author who, having shaped words and crafted pictures so carefully and thoughtfully to get across these deep truths about his beloved friend, has the final word. For him, Daphne was a gift, listening and talking to her was a gift, being part of and writing her story was a gift. Now he shows us that, for us, this book is the same kind of thing. 

Become friends with the book, listen to the truth of its messages, hold this story in your hands and heart.

Daphne would be so proud.  

 

Fearless: The Story of Daphne Caruana Galizia is published by Otter-Barry on October 8th 2020

With thanks to Gattaldo for his support in the preparation of this blog and for supplying the pictures. lllustrations by Gattaldo. Author photo by Antonella Muscat.

Tuesday, September 1, 2020

*Not* a Bed of Roses

"Just One of Those Days" by Jill Murphy

(Macmillan, 2020) 

Life is not always a bed of roses. 

In fact it's more like the untidy, strewn-with-crayons, home-to-half-drunk-cups-of-coffee bed that presents itself on the cover of Jill Murphy's truthful and honest picture book, Just One of Those Days.

You may already know the family who are seen waking up in that bed. In fact, the story that began in Peace at Last all those years ago here continues straight away with the ominous words: 'It had been a long night...' as dad stretches wearily to turn off the alarm while mum can barely open her eyes. The sky outside is grey, the trees bare, the light gloomy. 

Mum and Dad sleepily get themselves ready for work. Baby Bear is allowed a few moments more of his dream of dinosaurs but all too soon even he has to face the reality of day. 

And what a day it turns out to be: miserable weather, upsets in the nursery, coffee upsets in the office...even Mum's blueberry muffin treat can't be properly enjoyed. The whole family experience a lot of problems that we're all familiar with...and would equally prefer not to have to face!

But there is comfort to be found in family. After all the troubles that Life has thrown the Bear family that day there's a pizza treat and comfy pyjamas and flaking out on the sofa: Life's simple pleasures that are often forgotten. The wonder of this picture book is its invitation to slow down and think about the things that our own lives offer that are sometimes taken for granted. As much of the book is about the little joys as it is about the down-sides: this symmetry is so important to recognise and the structure of the book reflects it beautifully. 

Murphy's illustrations engage us in making time to consider the everyday in new light, rather as Janet Ahlberg's do: there is the same warmth and realism. In both artists' work the fairy-tale fantasy acts as a foil to what is ostensibly very real and very familiar - ultimately what fairy-tale is all about, in fact - while the tiny domestic details they include make for instant appeal. Look at how Baby Bear's salad differs from mum and dad's at the end of Murphy's book, for example: What does that tell us? How do we relate? 

It's been forty years since Peace at Last, but here the bears wake up to reveal their story as fresh, timeless and as universal as ever - Life may not be perfect; but what we make of it can be just that.

Monday, August 31, 2020

"Layers and Sides..."

The Key to Finding Jack by Ewa Jozefkowicz

(Zephyr, 2020)


 

When her brother, Jack, travels to Peru then goes missing after an earthquake there, Flick puts every effort into trying to locate him. The discovery of an old key, addressed and labelled 'To S.F.', sets in motion a sequence of encounters with the people who have meant the most to Jack and Flick is surprised by what she discovers about the young man (no longer a boy) that she thought she knew so well.

Ewa Jozefkowicz returns in glorious form with this intimate and heartfelt story about the subtleties of family relationships. Flick's is a sensitive portrayal of a young adolescent, coming to terms with the fact that her beloved older brother is now setting out on his own life. The bond between the two is drawn so beautifully, the love so strongly felt, that we immediately invest ourselves in the story, desperate that Jack be found. 

In her previous book, Girl 84, Jozefkowicz explored the theme of age and the elderly to highlight the value of growing old and the stories held by everybody's lives. Once again, this emerges as part of The Key to Finding Jack, Flick's grandmother developing as a major character halfway through the story - both young and old have things to learn about our relationships, the author here implies.  

There are many layers and sides to us all, as the story explains, but the whole book presents all kinds of ways to examine what may at first seem the mundane world of our everyday lives. Characters are plentiful, maybe more cameo-like in their in intriguing and sometimes fleeting appearances: What is Sutty's story? What does the fragmentary scene at Simon's front door tell us about the relationship between father and son? Who is the girl in the red beret that Flick continues to notice once her story has come into creation? So many stories! Like the fictional mysteries Flick alludes to at the start of the story, we are presented with all kinds of different 'pages' in the same gigantic book of life - ones that are barely explained, and only then if we are take time to see...

While online 'bubble'-life may threaten to tangle or even sever the connective threads between us all, Jozefcowicz's wise, warmly encouraging voice helps her youngest readers yet again to slow down and notice what is going on around us, to take interest in others, to find renewed love and affection towards our fellow travellers in the journey of Life.

 And in doing so, there is hope to find us all.

***  

Once you have read the book, I hope you will want to share it! The following questions might help you to connect with other readers and their thoughts, to compare your similarities and differences. The questions are aimed at the maturity level of Year 5/6 children and above.

Questions to think and talk about:

  1. How does Flick change throughout the story? Does anything about her character stay the same?
  2. Describe he relationship between Flick and her mum. Describe the same between her and her dad. How are the two relationships different? How are they the same?  
  3. Are the relationships between Jack and his parents different to that between them and Flick? 
  4. Do you think Jack will return to Peru one day? Why/Why not?
  5. Why is Duncan in the story? How do you think his story will continue after this story is finished? 
  6. Is the old key that Flick finds the most important part of the plot?  
  7. What makes writing such an important part of Flick's life? Do you think she will continue to write through her teenage years and beyond into adulthood? Why/Why not?
  8. What role does old age and the elderly play in the story and to the messages of the book?
  9. "There are layers and sides to a person that you can't uncover until you have the right clues?" What does this mean? Is this the main message of the text, or is that something else? 
  10. The Spanish words 'Oro' and "Llave' are mentioned a lot. What do these two words mean in English? Do they have a greater significance to the story and characters than just being the names of places in Peru?
  11. Flick decides not to draw a spider diagram to record her investigation; what is the significance that she chooses to draw a tree instead?  
  12. What relevance does Jack's haemophilia have to the story? 
  13. Why does the author make a point of regularly mentioning the 10:15pm flyover of the plane?
  14. If this book were to win a prize, what would it be awarded it for, in your opinion?


Thursday, August 27, 2020

"The Girl Who Became a Tree" - Reading Group Questions

Having posted my thoughts yesterday about Joseph Coelho's and Katie Milner's outstanding creation, The Girl Who Became a Tree, I've still had lots of questions buzzing around my head. Some of them might be helpful as a starting point for Book Chat with KS3/4 young people and adults who have read this extraordinary and richly engaging volume.

Happy book-chatting! 


The Title
  • The title is deliberately prosaic: what effect does it have by referring to the abstract 'girl' and 'tree'?
  • Why didn't Joseph Coelho call the book 'Daphne'?
  • Does the title engage you to read the story within? How? How not?
The Cover
  • What's the difference in your view between a verse-novel and a 'story told in poems'?
  • Describe the images on the cover. What feelings does it evoke? 
  • Talk about the use of colours on the cover. Why has the illustrator/designer used these colours?
The Form
  • What kinds of poetic structure are used in 'The Girl Who Became a Tree'?
  • How do the different poetic forms affect your reading of the book?
  • Can you read the poems as separate texts or do they rely on being part of the whole sequence?
Daphne
  • What is ordinary about Daphne? What is extraordinary?
  • How does Daphne conquer her anger and anxieties? 
  • What is the turning point in the story for Daphne?
Mum and Dad
  • How do Coelho and Miller represent these two figures in Daphne's life? 
  • How do you feel about the character of Mum? And Dad? Do your feelings match or echo Daphne's?
Hoc
  • What words would you use to describe Hoc? 
  • What do you notice about Hoc's throne and surroundings? What do they tell us about Hoc? How do they relate to Daphne? 
  • Hoc is an original creation but who are his 'relatives' from other stories? How are they 'related'?
  • Hoc is an unusual word and name, but we do hear it in the Latin phrase 'ad hoc', meaning 'a solution to a given task or problem'. Do you think the phrase is connected to the creature in any way? 
  • Is Hoc good or bad?

Libraries and librarians
  • What role do libraries play in your life? What importance to they have to Daphne? Will the library still have the same role for her after the end of this story? 
  • What is the importance of having a library as a major part of the story? 
  • Could the character of the librarian be omitted from the story or not?
The Forest
  • What role do forests have in stories? What are some of the most memorable forests you know from real life and from story? What bearing do these have on your reading The Girl who Became a Tree?
  • Why is it relevant that Daphne finds herself in a forest?
  • Why is it important that Daphne discovers another 'tree' like herself?  
The Myth
  • Read a traditional version of the myth of Daphne and Apollo. How does Coelho's version of the myth (the parts on black background) retell, build on, and challenge the original myth?
  • What is the connection between the myth and Coelho's main story? 
  • Is The Girl Who Became a Tree an allegory? 
Other texts
  • Read and talk about the relationship of the following poems and stories to The Girl Who Became a Tree: 
          - William Blake - A Poison Tree
          - Red Riding Hood
          - Philip Larkin - The Trees
  • Are there other texts or films which come to your mind while reading? What is the connection? 

The Illustrations
  • Talk about Katie Milner's style: which words would you use to describe it? 
  • How does the book benefit from the illustrations? 
  • Find one picture which you feel strongly connects with the poem it illustrates. How does it achieve this in your view? What does it say about the poem? 
  • Do the pictures tell their own story as well as illustrate Coelho's?
Out-of-the box thinking...
  • Could you read the story backwards, starting with the last poem and working back to the first? How would this structure change/develop your perception of the story?
  • If you were to add a poem to the book what would it be about and what form would it take?
  • As Daphne's phone is a central part of the story, could you imagine The Girl Who Became a Tree as a phone app or game? How would it translate to this medium? 
  • If you were making a film of this book, how would you represent Hoc? How would you show Daphne's transformation? How would the original myth be part of the film?

You may find it of interest to listen to the fascinating interview between Joseph Coelho and Nikki Gamble on the following podcast: https://justimagine.co.uk/podcast/joseph-coelho/ 

The Girl Who Became a Tree is published by Otter-Barry Books. With thanks to Nicky Potter who provided Kate Milner's illustrations for use in this blog. 

Wednesday, August 26, 2020

A Poison Tree

The Girl who Became a Tree by Joseph Coelho; illustrated by Kate Milner 

(Otter-Barry Books 2020)

 
William Blake tells us:

I was angry with my foe: 
I told it not, my wrath did grow.

But what happens when you can't accept that you're angry with yourself?

***

In Joseph Coelho's and Kate Milner's The Girl Who Became A Tree, Daphne is angry: Dad has gone; Mum doesn't understand her; she doesn't understand herself any more. Hers is a silent, brooding presence in the library. The librarian seems to understand, seems to know what she needs, but she's not going to let him in.

Then, quite suddenly, we snap out of this story and we're watching the myth of Daphne. Where did that come from? The girl who evades danger by entreating her father to transform her into a tree is just a bit too obvious...isn't it? 

Well, no. Because myth isn't real. And although myth is there to make sense of things, Coelho's story shows us that, in some cases, myth doesn't make sense of anything. So the old story is forced to give up the ghost with an angry outburst at Peneus and then crawls away to lick its axe-wounds. 

Now bereft of any guidance, Coelho's Daphne finds her way into an ancient forest via the library.

And Hoc takes charge. 

What is he? Malevolent forest god? Mischief maker? Lazy, huge, sprawling, decadent, deep-rooted, rotten, old, he sits with self-satisfied power over Daphne. He feeds her anger, teases her with promises of returning what she has lost; then transforms her - not to help her escape any danger as the myth would have us predict, but to encase her, to trap her, to stultify her real growth. 

Daphne is strong though. Cocooned in wood, she learns the value of introspection. She can let go of certain things, those things that she thought were all she had left but which she sees finally as fleeting, ephemeral. 

Dad, the tree surgeon, is not the woodcutter of fairy tale: he can't save Red Riding Hood from harm. Nor is Dad any god either: his mortality proves to Daphne that Peneus did the wrong thing, he tried too hard to protect: these physical bonds we have with our parents can't be for ever. Growth is what's needed, although Blake only told half the story: the cultivation of a Poison Tree doesn't always have to end in death or bitter triumph.

Coelho's story is tough. The language is tough. Life and death are tough. The viewpoint veers from deeply personal  self-questioning to subjective allegory through everything else in between. 

Milner's illustrations - inky, smeared, surreal; then razor-sharp and chilling - swing nightmarishly between physical clarity and metaphoric obfuscation. Sense appositely evades comprehension.

There are no soft-centred platitudes offered up. Adolescence hurts: grief hurts: true feelings  hurt. There's nothing easy in any of it. Learning to tell yourself that you are the foe - learning to be your own true friend, even when this involves hardship and massive effort - results in a different story, says The Girl Who Became A Tree:

Wrath will end. 



With grateful thanks to Nicky Potter of Otter-Barry Books, who provided some of Kate Milner's beautiful pictures for this blog. 




Sunday, August 16, 2020

Read to Me! (Part 3): Tips for Reading Aloud

This, the third part of a series about Reading Aloud in Year 6, focuses on the actual act of reading out loud to a class. Many of these points are important to consider in any year group, but the following points are based on my long-term experience of reading to older children and is possibly more sensitive in parts to the attributes and needs of that age of child. 

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1. "Before we begin..."

Establish where the story has got to so far (like in your favourite box-set!). Get the children involved in this: I like to put on a slight show of confusion turning back through the pages, muttering: "Now what happened at the end of the last chapter...", "What was it that X was up to..?", "Something major happened in the book yesterday. What was it again...?" Children love being better at remembering stuff than the dusty old teacher! 

It's good to recap (briefly) with some basic questions too at this point in the session: 'What's so-and-so's dog called?", "Why have they gone up to the lighthouse?" but this isn't a comprehension test, so I make sure to keep it relaxed.

2. Voices

Reading a book out loud is a kind of spell so the words written on the page desperately need a 'voice' for them to work: a good storyteller shapes the words to bring them to life; a great storyteller gives their living breath to the squiggles on the page. 

This may sound daunting, but take courage! Anyone can become a great storyteller: it's a matter of two things - loving the story you are telling (so much so that you are desperate to share it with your audience!) and letting the story 'in' so you are able to tell it authentically. 

It's really important to 'do the voices'. But that doesn't mean we have to make up different sounds for every character (e.g. a scratchy, fingernails-down-the board voice for the demon bench-end in Priestley's Tales of Terror). This could so easily verge on caricature or worse, stereotype. As the storyteller, we just have to tune into what the story is saying to us about these characters and feel what they are living, saying, breathing...

Year 6 children still love the voices too - and don't get me wrong, so do I! They can add so much to the intensity and immediacy of the telling when done well.  But do be assured: reading aloud doesn't need to become a big, dramatic performance. Where a good deal of reading aloud for younger children benefits from bright, colourful characterisation through the sounds made by the storyteller, the books that are going to satisfy the children's interests at Year 6 have a more developed nuance when it comes to character - pastel and charcoal in shade and texture, rather than bolder, primary colours. (By the way, that's certainly not to say that in my opinion books for younger children are in any way 'easier', or 'less developed' than those for older - no way!)

What is always needed is a sense of character. Having read the book first yourself, you should though understand the need for the emotion and personality in each character speaks their words. That demon bench-end, for instance, might far more effective as a simple whisper, barely containing its anger. So you can simply use your own voice to shape each character's words: just make it quiet or confident, let it bounce along or hide shyly in a corner, allow it hiss snide comment, or bray boorishly...this is what matters - children need to hear the inner character. 

Read with feeling - that's the key thing.  

3. When to talk

I try to read for very long chunks at a time without pausing to ask questions. I used to stop far more often during the reading, but it became intrusive and broke the magic of the story. A constant running commentary isn't needed. Also, again, it's not a comprehension test.   

Sometimes, though, children want to say something during the reading about what they've spotted or to ask a question. Again, I won't stop immediately but try to acknowledge the question with a reassuring glance over at the child and a silent thumbs up. This will mean I've logged their interest and will come back to them at a good point in the next few minutes. I still want the children to feel the pull of the story, for it to mesmerise. 

But equally, I want to pass on the 'expert teacher role' to them. I want to support the children's independence to question and comment on a text. By Year 6, children may have become more self-conscious about this, thinking there may be a 'right or wrong' way to react to a book, or particularly sensitive to the reactions of their peers. To encourage the children to feel confident in taking on what may have been seen previously as the grown-up reader's role - thinking, questioning, wondering with others - is what it's about here.

4. Book-Talk

Reading doesn't stop when you close the book at the end of a read-aloud session. Real reading (particularly as the child becomes older) is increasingly more about thinking and talking about what you have read that it is about deciphering the squiggles and patterns on the page. So we spend at least five minutes of the session discussing individual, group and class thoughts about the bit of the story we've read that day.

Sometimes children naturally want to start talking about something that has grabbed their attention. As the storyteller/teacher, I'll act more as guide in the discussion, inviting comments, disagreements, other 'spots' that children have made, rather than as participant. It is, though, still important to offer them your interpretation of things from time to time: to the children, we are models of 'the mature reader', so our interest, passion, involvement is key; we should take part - just not take over! 

If there is little forthcoming from the children, I use a selection of generic questions to prompt thinking (I'll be writing more about this in the autumn as an Example of Practice for the OU Reading for Pleasure site). For example:

  • Which parts interested you the most today?    
  • What feelings did you experience when we were reading this book?
  • Did anything we read today remind you of something else you’ve enjoyed? Another book? A film?

Because these are very open, these are particularly good to use with children who may lack confidence in talking about books. 

5. Valuing Every Reader

At the end of a lot of sessions, we have a few minutes sharing anything the children have written or drawn to value the range of personal responses. It's a joy to hear and to support Year 6 children in their developing views about the literature they encounter. By this age, there is a special need to recognise that these children are on the cusp of a deeply independent approach to their reading. They have spent much of their primary school learning about the ways they respond to stories and text and at this point, on the point of leaving for secondary school, they have a unique opportunity to explore their thinking at a mature level in a safe space.

Children's drawings are fascinating to examine and considering these in the context of reading can be revealing. For all children, drawing initiates a particularly personal exploration of a text. It allows time to focus on just one or a few aspects of the book being read. Also, some children might not be comfortable talking about books - the 'Book-Talk' tips above may not prove so fruitful with them - but through drawing they may be better equipped to express their thinking.

Questions about the drawings to involve the whole class in looking closely and thinking about the drawing/reading might include: 

  • What have you drawn here? 
  • Why did you draw this today? 
  • What did you hear in the reading today that inspired you to draw?
  • Is there anything else from today's read that you might like to draw later? 
Listen out for how the drawing has been stimulated by their perception of the reading. Engage these children in regular book-chat through their drawing skills. Celebrate how this form of reading a book is just as valid as oral book-chat!  

Because everyone has the right to be part of Storytime. 
 
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I'm now looking forward to writing more about this subject in the future! In the meantime, further great thinking about Reading Aloud at Primary School is offered by Martin Galway here: https://www.hertsforlearning.co.uk/blog/do-voices-reading-aloud-primary-classroom, 
and here: 
https://www.hertsforlearning.co.uk/blog/do-voices-reading-aloud-primary-classroom-pt-2. 
 
And if you want to know more about the practice and the impact then Jim Trelease's The Read-Aloud Handbook (Penguin) will tell you lots and lots more!

 

Friday, August 14, 2020

Le chat qui chante...

Paris Cat by Dianne Hofmeyr and Piet Grobler

(Tiny Owl, 2020)

Picture books these days have to be very special in order for them to stand out in a very overcrowded market. Fortunately, Tiny Owl are producing this sort of quality stuff one book after another! The latest is 'Paris Cat', an utterly winsome story of one feline who is determined to follow her musical passions and to take the world of the French capital by storm.

It's a book that demands to be read out loud, with delicious phrases throughout that chime and charm the ear: 

'[...]she found a nest of silk and satin tulle and taffeta, velvet and voile and fell fast asleep. When she woke, it was to the scrimp scrimp of scissors and the whirr whirr of sewing machines.'

The scissors may 'scrimp' but the prose-poetry certainly doesn't, leading children through the joyful abundance and sonic glory of language: atelier, claw-stitched, seamstress, dressed to the nines are just a few examples that appear.

Then, of course, there's the delightful story itself: breathless in its exuberance, the tale of Kitty who leaps from one 'life' to the next - one minute a clothes designer, the next a stage performer and then...what next? - will encourage young children to follow their own dreams, to act on their passions and interests. The book will also appeal greatly to the adult reader who may be sharing the book with a child or a class: there are cameos from Edith Piaf (who has to compete with a caterwauling intruder!) and Josephine Baker (who temporarily adopts Kitty into her stage show). There are also lovely touches of sly humour: the 'Catacombs Club', the dismissive 'Pffh', 'les poissonneries'...

 

In addition to this delightful text are the equally stylish illustrations by Piet Grobler. The energetic collage style, with confident slicings and carefree juxtapositions, are a beautiful complement to Kitty's own nature. The monoprints add a smoky quality to the textural palette while the bright, characterful eyes that follow Kitty's progress around the city highlight the energy of the urbanscape.

Mention must also be made of the endpapers which provide us with a cat's-view-map of Paris: seemingly the great tourist hot-spots have been noted only for their usefulness in pointing the way to the nearest poissonneries - just follow the red, walking tour lines and you'll be okay, Kitty seems to be saying!

Get hold of a copy of this and I guarantee you'll 'regrette rien de rien', as the song goes (sorry - just couldn't resist!). 


A set of FREE Teacher Resources is also available for this book here:  ow.ly/7kSo50AXoOT #teacherresources

Illustrations are used courtesy of Tiny Owl, © 2020.