Reviews
Cozy Winter Stories
In Hollywood, it's said that all plots are variations on boy-meets-girl.
When it comes to picturebooks, plots seem to be in similarly short supply. This month, I look at winter books that are either based on classic tales or reminiscent of them.
When my Penn State students mention favorite authors from childhood, Jan Brett is always on the list. Brett, who has more than 30 million books in print, is known for neatly framed folkloric illustrations that invite the reader to enter a more charming world than our own, a world in which all the animals are warm and fuzzy, all the people look like American Girl dolls, and snow is an excuse to get cozy with cocoa.
Among Brett's best-known books is "The Mitten," based on a Ukrainian folk tale. In it, Grandmother (who looks like the well-tended owner of a yarn shop on Cape Cod) knits white mittens for Nikki, admonishing him not to lose one in the snow, which he promptly does. This is good news for a succession of animals who find it and crawl in to keep warm.
In Brett's version, Grandma was some hotshot knitter, because that mitten stretches to accommodate every one of the animals, up to and including a bear...till the bear sneezes. In another version, this one by Alvin Tresselt with illustrations by Yaroslava, the mitten doesn't fare so well.
Tresselt's "The Mitten" was written in 1964 when printing technology was primitive by today's standards. Yaroslava's line drawings of animals are elaborate and humorous, but color is used like the spice in soup, a dash here and a dash there.
Words, on the other hand, were cheap back in '64, and Tresselt's rendering of the tale is a bit more complex than Brett's. For one thing, the author acknowledges that the story doesn't really make sense but resolves this by saying it was told to him by his grandfather, so what are you going to do. In this version, it's not the bear's sneeze that finally rousts the animals from their too cozy refuge, it's a cricket who tries to squeeze in, too.
Another difference: The mitten is obliterated by its ordeal. Lucky for the boy, Grandma has a new pair at the ready.
I can't prove it, but I suspect poet Alice Schertle was thinking of the classic Stone Soup when she wrote "All You Need for a Snowman," illustrated by Barbara Lavallee. When a real poet like Schertle writes a picturebook, it's a pleasure to read aloud: Rhymes that scan don't trip the tongue.
The story, if you can even call it that, is simple. The narrator asserts that one snowflake is all you need for a snowman — except... and goes on to add the very few additional things you might need, such as about 8 million more snowflakes, bottlecaps for eyes, a hat for his head, a carrot, some clothes, and finally a few more snowflakes so you can make him a friend. Lavallee's sweet, rounded pastel illustrations remind me of round Russian dolls with Eskimo (or more properly Inuit) faces.
Wong Herbert Yee's illustrations for his own "Tracks in the Snow," are similarly soft. A little girl wonders what made the tracks outside her window and goes to investigate — enjoying imaginative adventures on the way. The answer to the question will be anticipated by anyone who remembers tracking the heffalump with Winnie the Pooh.
Like "All You Need for a Snowman," this is a sweet, unassuming book that would make great bedtime reading — especially with snow falling outside and a cup of cocoa to warm you.