Some not very serious life lessons from picture books by Jane Clarke

Last week, Book Trust tweeted

So, inspired by this thread, and with tongue firmly in cheek, here are some life lessons from  a few of my favourite old picture books. I’ve confined myself to sausages, elephants and poultry - but feel free to add anything in the comments at the end :-)

1. If you strut about with your beak in the air, you’ll miss a lot of exciting stuff.

2. Never underestimate the power of compromise, especially when arbitrated by a duck.

3.  Fake wings may be cool, but they won’t enable you to fly.

4.  Be nice to demanding house guests and treat yourself to sausages, chips and ice cream at a cafe after they leave.

5.  It's wise to keep sausages handy in case you need them to determine which end of an Earth Hound has the fangs, and which end has the waggler.

 Dr Xargle's book of Earth Hounds by Jeanne Willis, illustrated by Tony Ross

6. Elephants are happiest when they don’t try to hide their true colours.

7. If there are four elephants in a bath, only three have fun.

Five Minutes Peace by Jill Murphy

8.   If you spend all day going rumpeta, rumpeta, rumpeta all down the road with an elephant, you will need to lie down at the end of it.

The Elephant and the Bad Baby by Elfrida Vipont and Raymond Briggs

There are huge philosophical truths to be extrapolated from picture books and I recognise (somewhat guiltily) that the subject deserves a much more serious post than this. In the meantime, though, I hope you’ll leave a comment to let us know more life lessons (from the silly to the profound) you’ve learned from picture books.

Jane's just finished writing the Dr KittyCat series and is currently working on a third picture book to be illustrated by Britta Teckentrup, and the fourth book in the Al's Awesome Science series illustrated by James Brown.

What Makes a Classic? • Lynne Garner

You know you're a classic when you become a statue

I was recently asked what was on my bucket list. This bucket list could include anything including being an author. After pondering for some time, I finally came to the conclusion I'd like to write a picture book that was classed as a classic. The conversation continued onto what I considered to be a classic. My first step to answering this question was to consider what my classics are, and they included:  

• Going on a Bear Hunt 
• The Hungry Caterpillar 
• The Tiger Who Came to Tea 
• A Bear Called Paddington 
• Make Way for Ducklings  
• Where the Wild Things Are 
• Elma The Patchwork Elephant 

I was then asked, "So what makes these classic?" I began to break down what I thought made a classic picture book and this is what I came up with:  

A good story

I suppose that's obvious but also very subjective. I think it can be said that a good story is one that resonates with a huge number of people from diverse backgrounds. Something that entertains the reader regardless of who they are. I'm not sure if there's a common thread in any of the titles I've listed as they're all different, with a different voice and feel. But they all have that certain something, whatever that is. 

Longevity

To become a classic I felt it safe to assume it would have to be around for a long time. Not knowing the original publication date of my classics, I did a little research and discovered: 

• Going on a Bear Hunt - 1989
• The Hungry Caterpillar - 1969
• The Tiger Who Came to Tea - 1968
• A Bear Called Paddington - 1958
• Make Way for Ducklings - 1941 
• Where the Wild Things Are - 1963
• Elma The Patchwork Elephant – 1968

So, the oldest has been around for 76 years (Make Way For Ducklings) whilst the youngest is Going on a Bear Hunt, a mere 28 years old. 

So, longevity can't be the only thing.

Sales

From the publisher’s point of view, it must be sales. They're not going to keep a book in print if it doesn't sell reasonably well on a continuous basis. So, who are buying these books and why do they continue to sell? Obviously, marketing. Thinking about it I don't think I've been in a book shop in the last few years and not seen copies of Going on a Bear Hunt, The Hungry Caterpillar and The Tiger Who Came to Tea for sale. These books also have merchandise attached to them and it's not uncommon for an entire table to be filled with the books and the merchandise. This makes purchasing them a no-brainer.

However, people are creatures of habit and if you're going to buy a book as a present then rather than take the chance you're going to purchase one you enjoyed as a child. So, the longer a book stays in print the wider audience it's going to reach.

Some books don't age well

I've tried to discover what the average shelf life for a picture book is and have been unsuccessful. However, I remember an editor telling me not to expect my how-to craft book to in print after five years. I asked why and the reply was, "They just don't age well." I believe this is true of some of the picture books I read as a child. I'd never buy them today, they contain views, beliefs, actions etc. that just no longer acceptable. So are never going to make the classic list. 

So, what does make a classic a classic? 

I wish I knew. I'd then be able to use that knowledge to write my own and tick that box on my bucket list "write a classic."

Any suggestions would be welcome.

Regards

Lynne 

Last but not least whilst researching this topic I rediscovered this fab post asking the question "why do some picture books stay in print?" If you've stuck with us from the start then you may have read it because it appeared on this very blog in February 2014 and was written by our very own Paeony Lewis. If you have the time simply click on the link above and have a read.

Generating Ideas, by Abie Longstaff

I'm away on holiday so I thought I'd send you my post in visual form.

This is how I get my ideas - I'd love to hear how you get yours.

The Tiger Who We All Wish Would Come To Tea With Us, by Pippa Goodhart

Last Saturday I had a treat.  I went to hear Judith Kerr talking about her work in Cambridge Union.  Judith Kerr is a hero of mine for sharing her remarkable child refugee life with us all in her 'When Hitler Stole Pink Rabbit' series of books, for her wonderful picture books, and just for being such an inspiring and nice person.  Still publishing picture books now, in her nineties, she's a role model!  But what I wanted to hear about most of all was her first, and I think, her best picture book of them all - The Tiger Who Came To Tea.






Judith and small daughter used to get ‘terribly bored’. So she made up bedtime stories. Judith felt that some of her other stories were at least as good as The Tiger One, but her daughter insisted on that Tiger One more than any other. "Talk the tiger' is what she would demand.  One can imagine how such repeated tellings honed the wording of the story to perfection.

It was only once her daughter, Tacy, and the son who came later, were both at school ‘and staying there for their dinners’ that Judith had time for her own creative work once more, and she began that with the tiger story she knew so well.  That was in 1966.

The prospective publisher liked the story, but questioned ‘how realistic’ it was that the tiger drank from a tap. Anyone with a cat knows that they do drink from taps, certainly more than they knock on front doors! And the glory of that drinking moment is that the Tiger ‘drank all the water in the tap’. I think that's the moment in the story we all remember the most. Incidentally, I couldn’t resist a little homage to that moment in one of my Winnie the Witch stories (written under the fake name of Laura Owen). When Winnie gets a new kitten, much to Wilbur’s annoyance, in a story in ‘Winnie The Bold’, it’s a tiger cub she’s got by mistake, rather than a kitten. That tiger causes havoc, eating everything in the larder and the fridge, and then, of course, drinking all the water in the tap. I’m so glad that Judith held strong and kept that tap-drinking!

 

The other problem perceived by the publishers was with one aspect of Judith’s artwork. ‘And they were quite right,’ said Judith. She had modelled the father figure on her husband, but he looked very different in different spreads. So she tried to get him to sit for her properly so that she could get the images right, but he was too busy … so she used an out of work actor friend instead, and, she says, that you can see that Daddy is distinctly ‘different’ on different pages. I’d never noticed that, but now I've gone back to look, I do see it!

 Michael Rosen has a theory that the tiger knocking at the door, then coming in and helping itself to everything, represents the Gestapo who were doing their worst in the Germany that the Kerr family fled as the Nazis came to full power. But Judith Kerr says that’s quite wrong. The story grew the way it did because she and her daughter got bored with just each other for company whilst ‘Daddy’ was at work. They used to long for somebody to come and visit, and so that’s why the story grew out of a visitor coming to tea. Why a tiger? Simply because they had been to the zoo together, and both fallen in love with the tiger they saw there. She says they hadn’t at all contemplated how dangerous a tiger might be; just that they were so very beautiful, and they made you want to stroke that wonderful orange fur. So to have a tiger visiting, and letting you lean against its orange fur strength and warmth wasn’t a scary prospect at all. It was wonderful. I doubt any read it as a scary story. And, besides, the tiger is so very polite, he’s not at all a nasty intruder!







But that’s one of the beauties of stories, and especially those which are simply told. They leave room for you to bring your own interpretation to them. They become your story, individual to each one of us because we each ‘read’ and complete the story in our own unique way.

Why do some picture books stay in print for decades? by Paeony Lewis

 Some picture books go out of print in a year, whilst others stay in print for twenty, thirty or fifty years. Is it because these perennial favourites are outstanding? Or is it because some books quickly become dated? For example, times change, and I couldn’t resist including an original illustration (by Peggy Fortnum) from the young chapter book Paddington at Large (1962). It shows Paddington smoking a cigar. He wasn't being a naughty, unhealthy Paddington in the 1960s!

My musings about the longevity of picture books began when a friend asked me why books like Judith Kerr's The Tiger Who Came To Tea stay in print (first published 1968). My friend wondered what it was that keeps some books in print. My initial answer was to say that if a child enjoyed a book when they were young, then they’d remember and buy it to share with their children. But now I'm not so sure.

I suspect grandparents may play a more important role in keeping picture books in print. As parents, we remember which books we enjoyed sharing with our children (these may, or may not, also be the children’s favourites). Then when the parents become grandparents, if they see the book in a shop they become nostalgic and buy the book for their grandchildren.

By Paeony Lewis, illus by Penny Ives

What evidence do I have to back this up? Not a lot! However, my I’ll Always Love You is now a scary 14 years old and although it's not in the same category as the classics, I've begun getting lovely emails from new grandparents telling me they’re buying the book for their grandchild because they remember reading this story of unconditional love to their child. These grandparents tend to be American as it's especially popular there and a new bookshop edition has just come out.

Thank you grandparents, but why have I discounted my theory about parents buying picture books that they enjoyed when they were children? I'm sure there are exceptions, but my gut says there are two reasons why it's not necessarily new parents (OK, my gut isn't scientific, so feel free to disagree!).

Firstly, do all adults remember and reminisce about the picture books they enjoyed as children? I do, but I work in the world of picture books and still have my old books, so I'm not necessarily typical. I asked my ‘children’ (21 and 19) which picture books they remembered liking, and they struggled. YES, THEY STRUGGLED! I feel miffed!

First published 1969

One forgetful child admitted there were so many picture books it was hard to remember (interesting, when I was a child I had just a few that were looked at continuously). The glorious The Very Hungry Caterpillar was the only one remembered by my son, but he claimed no strong emotional attachment to it.

First published 1990

My daughter particularly remembered one evocative book about a whale and after a discussion she agreed it was The Whale’s Song. I knew she adored that one because I read it to her over and over and over again. I also mentioned others I knew she had adored, but she had no memory of these once-favourite books. Perhaps if I’d dug them out she’d have recognised them, although she denies remembering Demon Teddy, despite being shown the damming evidence that once upon a time she liked him (see image!).

Somebody liked Nicolas Allan's Demon Teddy!

By George Christian

If I have grandchildren (no pressure, my dearest children…) I know I’ll be buying them new picture books as well as books that fill me with nostalgia for the days when they were tiny and we curled up together to share books. However, I never shared or bought my children the picture books I adored as a child. Why’s that? I've decided it’s because they’re too personal, aren't necessarily great, and they are a product of their time and most aren't in print. Even so, I’ll share three with you (and perhaps more another time).

Patch Pants the Tailor

I'm sure nobody has heard of Patch Pants the Tailor. A strange book and inappropriate (we were embarrassingly  ignorant in the 1960s and it was first published in 1947). However, I adored this book and I think it was because Patch was unhappy and wanted more from life than patching and mending clothes, so he sailed in a boat with Salty the sailor and they were wrecked on a clichéd tropical island complete with 'natives' they suspected were cannibals (I told you it was embarrassing). Anyway, Patch sets up shop on the island and lives happily ever after. And why did I like it? My inner pop psychologist says it was because I was unhappy at home and wanted to escape (probably true as I did make up detailed plans for running away!).

There's one small picture book that I did buy again (only for me), and that's because the original was lost on a trip to a garden centre. A relative wasn't sure he'd recognise a weeping willow tree, so I lent him my ancient copy of Andy Pandy and the Willow Tree. I'd always loved the images of the 'toys' having a picnic deep inside the green tent of dappled leaves. It seemed  magical and I even included a picnic under a willow tree in a story that was almost published. One day...

My 'annotated' 1963 edition.
By Margaret Wise Brown,
Illus by Leonard Weisgard 

Another book that made a visual impression was Pussy Willow. I remember enjoying the illustrations and the flowery language of Margaret Wise Brown, and I still have a soft spot for pussy willow in the spring (and cats).

New 1997 illustrations - not for me.

It was originally published in 1951 and my edition is 1963. I've discovered a 1997 edition with new sugary illustrations. Why did they do this? If something is an old favourite, why change the illustrations? Nobody would re-illustrate The Gruffalo, Where the Wild Things Are, Owl Babies, Peepo or Madeline (oops, I've just checked and there are new illustrations for a Madeline series, sigh).

It's about time I returned to the original topic. Why do some picture books keep on going? Are grandparents key to a book staying in print for several decades? I think so, although a book has to be popular to begin with, and stay in print (that's vital, and media tie-ins help with this). Plus I feel it needs to be the sort of book that is either utterly brilliant or has an emotional pull that evokes loving memories. So what makes a classic book that stays in print? Tricky! There are lots of wonderful books that haven't lasted decades. Any suggestions for resurrections?

Paeony Lewis
www.paeonylewis.com

Promise: This blog is full of treats!

By Moira Butterfield (greedy from a very young age, as you will see)

A blog should be a little treat to read in one’s day, I feel. Picture books are like that, too. They are a special pleasurable treat in a quiet shared space somewhere in a toddler’s day.

Perhaps that’s why picture books are themselves often peppered with treats – I’m thinking of the yummy kind (this greedy blogger’s favourite kind, in fact). Winnie the Pooh has his honey, of course, and Judith Kerr’s tiger who comes to tea hoovers up a deliciously interesting retro-looking spread..,.Mmm, so would I. When I was small, storybook teddy bears invariably had picnics and toys more often than not ended up having scrumptious birthday parties involving cake.

The best and most exciting food treat for me as a small child would be to go a café, like the little girl in ‘The Tiger Who Came to Tea’ – and she got to go at nighttime, too! What luck for her that the tiger turned up and ate everything in the house. A trip to a café was a rare and exciting adventure for small me. I recall the feeling even now - A menu naming more dishes than I could imagine (what could ‘Welsh rarebit’ possibly be?). Sugar in tiny paper bags. Tomato sauce in a giant squashy plastic tomato. Oh joy!

What do today’s small children think of as treats, I wonder? Much the same things as I did, probably, albeit with a modern spin. A longed-for new toy, perhaps. Some small and beautiful natural object found on a walk and hidden in one’s pocket. An out-of-the-ordinary trip or a new delicious kind of food, eaten on holiday. Being tucked up in a warm freshly-made bed.

These are simple but powerful pleasures, and they still resonate with me.

Of course there are lots of great action-packed picture books with rollocking galloping stories, but the ones I love best are the ones deeply rooted in a small child’s world – a world where anything is possible (a tiger at the door perhaps) but there are also one or two of those wonderful treats that every child will recognise. In ‘Where the Wild Things Are’ Maurice Sendak put it perfectly with his classic ending:

“…his supper was waiting for him…and it was still hot.”

PS: Here is a treat just for you, and that's a promise. Cook this particularly pleasing flapjack, and eat it while it is still warm, preferably in some spot where you suspect teddies might very well have picnics when you are not looking.

200g (8oz) butter

150g (6oz) Golden Syrup – This is 6 tablespoons. Use a tablespoon warmed with hot water to make pouring easier.

150g (6oz) soft brown sugar

400g (16oz) rolled oats

A roughly 24cm (9.5”) square baking tray, greased – a swiss roll tin is ideal.

1.     Put the butter, syrup and sugar in a saucepan and stand over a low heat until melted.

2.     Stir in the oats, mixing well.

3.     Spread into the tin and bake in a moderate oven (180°C, 350°F, Gas Mark 4) for 25-30 minutes (keep an eye on it after after 20 mins so it doesn’t burn – my new fan oven seems to knock 5 minutes off the cooking time).

4.     Leave it in the tin to cool for 5 minutes. Then use a sharp knife to gently mark it into pieces.

5.     If you are feeling sensible, remove it from the tin when cool. If you impatiently remove it while it’s still warm, it will crumble…but it will be extra delicious! So I say treat yourself, and so does my picnicking teddy.

Tuck in, teddy, while they're still warm.