The wild things have departed.

I read on another blog I read that Maurice Sendak had died at the age of 83.
Now while much lauded for his work - Where the wild things are, which is both a joy to read out aloud and look at the visual feast of his magical creatures, it is not that work to which I am drawn nor my boys.
I have a book that my mum bought, maybe for us and maybe for herself, as she loves children's books as much as she ever did, called a hole is to dig. She might not even know i have this. T he illustrations are sublime, and I was particularly taken by the words when I started my degree at uni, the whole book is children's definitions of words, meta linguistic if you will, words defining words, when often children done have enough words to do them justice. For example a hole is to dig, mashed potato is for sticking up peas, puppy dogs are for licking.
It's a lovely celebration of children's language.

Photos to follow (it's late I'm in bed and not getting up)

The book the boys love is called - in the night kitchen.
It's a weird and wonderful book that has wonderful rhythm and symmetry to the language. Plus Mickey the main character falls out of his pajamas and ends up in a suit of dough that is made in the night kitchen, only to be in the nude again which totally appeals to young boys. Last year we read it every night for a months or so.
I intend to keep up my collection of Maurice Sendak. One of my favourite children's authors of all time.




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