Wednesday, 23 June 2010
Courtney, by John Burningham
At the home the boy and girl don't see the right dog at first, so they ask if there is a dog that nobody wants. A man shows them Courtney, an old grey dog, and the children decide at once that they are taking him home. Their parents of course are not impressed by this mongrel; the children are sent off to bed and Courtney settles down to sleep in the kitchen. Next morning there is no sign of him, but he comes back later in the day, dragging a trunk behind him. He appears to be well travelled.
Courtney loses no time in donning a chef's hat and apron, cooking a meal for the family, changing into waiter's clothes and serving the food, playing the violin as they eat and then juggling to amuse the baby. As time goes on, he sometimes meets up with dogs in the park but spends most of his time doing household chores, watching television with the children or dancing with mum. Tragedy strikes one day when the house catches fire with the baby and Courtney inside; Courtney suddenly appears climbing down a ladder with the baby safely under one arm.
Life goes on, but one morning there is no sign of Courtney or his trunk. The parents remind the children that Courtney is a mongrel who cannot be relied on. The boy and girl, once again pushing the baby along, report Courtney as missing at the police station. Needless to say, the officer doesn't expect a dog who can cook and play the violin to be handed in, but he promises to let the children know.
The following summer the family set off to the seaside for a holiday. Every day the children go off in a boat that is tied to a rock by a long rope. On the last day, however, the rope breaks and the boat drifts out to sea. Mum cries for help, and suddenly there is a tug as the boat begins to be pulled back to the shore by something invisible. The family never find out exactly who or what saved the children, but in one illustration near the end of the book the outline of an old dog can be seen on a cliff top, looking down on the family as they hug each other.
In 'Courtney', John Burningham has created a delightful, imaginative story. It's obviously total fantasy, but the children I read it to found the idea of a dog dressing up and doing household chores or dancing extremely funny. Although Courtney is an old and not particularly attractive dog, there is something very lovable about him and you can understand why the children decided they wanted him as soon as they saw him. I have to admit that it was not on first reading that I noticed Courtney's presence on the cliff top in a picture near the end of the book, but when I asked the children how they thought the boy and girl had been saved, they were convinced that Courtney rescued them. Interestingly, Courtney is the only character in the story who is named.
John Burningham illustrates his picture books himself and he is one of my favourite illustrators. He uses a fair amount of colour with line drawings that are usually quite sketchy; the colours bring them to life but are never overdone. Facial features are minimal yet still convey expressions and feelings. Dad obviously hates the idea of his wife leaning against Courtney as he plays the violin, although on the previous page he was delighted at the prospect of dinner cooked by the dog.
Every page has a white background that makes for easy reading. Usually there are just one or two lines of text at the top or bottom of the page, sometimes slightly more. The font is large and clear. 'Courtney' is definitely a book for reading aloud, but it is such a charming story that a confident reader aged around seven might still find it an interesting story.
First published in 1994, 'Courtney' is not the most up-to-date picture book and I'm not aware of a television tie-in, but two groups of children that I have read it aloud to have genuinely loved it. They were aged three and a half to four years old, but I'm sure slightly older children would still appreciate it. It shows us that it's not always the most attractive creature that is the cleverest or most lovable one. It allows children to give full rein to their imaginations, and has an intriguing element of mystery at the end. I wholeheartedly recommend finding a place for Courtney in any home where there are young children.
Courtney
by John Burningham
Red Fox, 1996
Paperback, 32 pages
ISBN 9780099666813
Price £5.99 (£4.11)
Friday, 14 May 2010
Oi! Get off our Train - John Burningham
A little boy dressed in his pyjamas is scolded by his mum as he is still playing with the train on the floor at the end of his bed. He is told to go to bed at once, and mum gives him his pyjama-case dog to cuddle. There's no goodnight kiss, however, just an order to “settle down and go to sleep”. The boy obeys.
The next two pages show a double-spread of the toy train chugging off, with smoke billowing out of the engine's chimney. Turn over again, and the boy is seated in the engine, wearing his pyjamas and a cap. The dog, also sporting a cap, is shovelling coal into the furnace. The train speeds along over great bridges, puffing out grey smoke, and the boy thinks they might have time for a picnic. Then he notices that it looks as though it's foggy ahead and says they could play ghosts if it is.
Suddenly, an elephant boards the train, but the boy and the dog say in no uncertain terms, “Oi! Get off our train.” The elephant, however, very politely begs to be allowed to stay on the train as someone wants to cut off his tusks, and soon there will be no elephants left. He stays on and sprays the dog with a huge jet of water when they stop for a swim. It looks like great fun.
After this several other animals try to board the train: a seal, a crane, a tiger and a polar bear. Each one is initially told “Oi! Get off our train.” But each animal has a reason to stay: too many fish are being caught, forests are being cut down, marshes are being drained. Lots of fun is had during the journey, flying kites, throwing snowballs, and messing about with umbrellas.
Suddenly the boy realises that they will have to head home so that he will be in time for school in the morning. We see him tucked up in bed and mum comes to tell him to get up straight away. It must have been a dream, or was it? Mum says there are animals all over the house: an elephant in the hall, a seal in the bath, and so on. She wonders if it has anything to do with the boy.
'Oi! Get off our Train' is a delightful story in which John Burningham cleverly brings in the message that these animals are all endangered species. It is an original way of combining an imaginative tale of a boy and a toy dog speeding off on an adventure with the idea that the animals need help because their numbers are dwindling. Burningham makes sure that there is plenty of play and fun throughout so that the story will have sufficient appeal for a young child.
This is an easy book to read aloud with the text in a clear, large font and just a few lines – sometimes only one – on each double page. Although the vocabulary used is straightforward, I wouldn't recommend it as a book for a very young child who is learning to read by phonics. It could, however, be popular with children up to the age of seven who are independent readers and might enjoy reading the story aloud to a younger sibling.
John Burningham illustrates his picture books himself, and the illustrations contribute enormously to 'Oi! Get off our Train'. They are watercolour/pastel sketches that use a great variety of colours to create different moods, from the sun-filled scene of kite-flying to the black and gold sky of the double page that shows the train steaming home again. The animals take on human qualities as they stand upright, either to tell the latest arrival to get off the train or to hold up umbrellas. At one point we see the dog taking a break from shovelling coal: he has removed his cap and is mopping his brow with spotted red handkerchief. Burningham is one of my favourite illustrators, but I know there are those who prefer the more up-to-date work of, for example, Lauren Child.
I have successfully used 'Oi! Get off our Train' in drama sessions with small groups of four-year-old children. I thought the title might be considered rude and I'm expected to be teaching these little ones how to be polite, so I suggested we say 'Hey! Please get off out train' as an alternative. The story does lend itself well to drama as most children enjoy pretending to be animals as well as chugging round the room making steam train noises. If there are too many children in the group there is no harm in having two elephants, two seals, and so on. To be honest I'm not quite sure how well they understood the idea that the animals were endangered species, but if you are reading the book aloud to just one or two children it might be easier to emphasise this and talk more about it.
'Oi! Get off our Train' may appeal slightly more to boys than girls, as the main character is a boy and boys are perhaps more likely to be interested in trains. It is, however, a delightful story, and the animals and sense of adventure should make it a book that any child will enjoy. For anyone interested in explaining the idea of endangered species to young children, this book is an ideal way of approaching the subject since it weaves the message into a story. I would highly recommend it.
Oi! Get Off our Train
by John Burningham
Paperback, 46 pages
Publisher: Red Fox, 1991
ISBN 009985340X
Price £5.99 (Amazon £3.97)
Wednesday, 30 December 2009
Avocado Baby - John Burningham
Mr and Mrs Hargraves, as well as their son and daughter, are not the strongest specimens of the human race so they naturally hope the newest addition to the family will prove to be more robust. After the baby is born, however, Mrs Hargraves has a lot of difficulty feeding it and indeed finding any sort of food that it likes.
Poor Mrs Hargraves is eventually driven to tears, but her son and daughter notice an avocado pear in the fruit bowl and suggest their mother feed it to their baby brother. The mystery is that nobody knows how the avocado got there, as the Hargraves certainly hadn't bought it. In her desperation, however, Mrs Hargraves cuts it in half, mashes it up and feeds it to the baby. Since he eats it all, Mrs Hargraves continues to give him avocado pear every day. The baby soon becomes so strong that he is able to break out of his high chair and pull a cartload of children up a hill.
One night the baby hears a burglar in the house; he gets hold of a broom and chases the terrified burglar away. After that the baby helps with carrying shopping, moving furniture and pushing the family car with everyone in it. The baby is thankfully able to deal with two bullies who attack his brother and sister while they are walking him in the park. The baby simply picks them up and throws them into the pond. The story ends with a picture of the baby having a rest in his carry-cot and the news that he continues to get stronger eating avocado pears.
John Burningham's stories are generally rather unusual, and Avocado Baby does seem a little strange as a young children's book. There is, however, quite a bit a humour in the story, and young children will doubtless be delighted by the idea of a baby moving a piano or picking up a bully in each hand. Parents who have had problems feeding their children will appreciate Mrs Hargraves' desperation as well as her relief when her baby wolfs down that first avocado pear and then starts to become stronger by the day. It is good to see the older siblings playing their part too, and of course being protected by the astonishing baby.
Burningham illustrates his books himself, and all except one of the pictures here are in full colour. The backgrounds are almost all white, so there is no difficulty with reading the text. The colours used are bright and varied which I think is important in a young children's book. One page, where Mrs Hargraves is shown trying to feed the baby, is set out like a comic strip with a series of pictures. We see the baby angrily pushing the plate away, as well as Mrs Hargraves attempting to feed him in the bath and while he is standing up in his cot. She is at her wits' end and will try anything. This is a page with no text that could generate discussions about the various scenarios, considering the feeding problem from both the baby's and the mother's point of view. Favourite illustrations are likely to be the full-page one of the burglar dropping his swag bag when he sees the baby brandishing a broom behind him, or the double-page spread of the two bullies landing in the pond with an almighty splash that disturbs the poor ducks and a fish.
The endpapers at both the front and back of the book show a double-page spread of an avocado plant covered with miniature babies in various colourful outfits. Some are perched on leaves while others appear to be performing gymnastics. This is a delightful illustration and again could be an inspiration for a conversation about what the babies are doing.
The text is in a particularly large and clear font and is always on a white background. There are never more than eight lines on a single page, usually less, and sometimes the text is broken up into smaller sections with illustrations in between. This is of course a book that is intended to be read aloud to very young children, but because of the clarity and the lack of long passages of text, it might also be suitable for young independent readers.
I didn't find 'Avocado Baby' to be such an outstanding book as John Burningham's 'Cloudland', either visually or in terms of the story. The ending of 'Avocado Baby' is perhaps a bit of an anticlimax, as we are simply told that things carried on as they were. I would, however, definitely recommend this as a book to borrow from the library, and Amazon's current price of £3.94 seems a reasonable one. I don't know if any miraculously strong, avocado-eating babies have come about as a result of having this book read aloud, but I would recommend it as an unusual story that has a fair amount of humour that will appeal to most young children.
Avocado Baby
John Burningham
Paperback, 32 pages
Red Fox, 1994
ISBN 9780099200611
Price £5.99 (Amazon £3.94)
Tuesday, 27 October 2009
I'm really ever so not well (Charlie and Lola)
Poor little Lola is tucked up in bed with a cold, but big brother Charlie brings her a tray of her favourite pink milk and some biscuits. Today, however, Lola says the milk tastes green and the biscuits are 'too prickly to swallow'. Charlie tries to cheer her up with flowers, but they simply make Lola sneeze. She can't join in a song with Charlie because her throat hurts, but she begs her brother to sing for her. Charlie is in a quandary because he has promised to play football with his friend Marv. He doesn't want to break his promise, but Lola tugs at his heartstrings so he tries 'If you're happy and you know it, clap your hands.' Lola, however, doesn't clap because, as she says, 'I'm really ever so not well.'
Charlie takes Lola to the bathroom to see her cold germs in the mirror. She reckons there must be 54 billion, or even a trillion of them. Charlie gets a phone call from Marv and tells Lola that Mum will come and play with her as he is off to the football game. Once again, Lola pleads with Charlie to stay with her and do a jigsaw puzzle. The phone rings again – Marv is getting impatient.
There follows an imaginative episode where Charlie and Lola are cloud hopping to try to catch a butterfly that is missing from Lola's mobile. Marv, however, arrives at the door and puts an end to this. Charlie lets out a great big sneeze, and the next day he is in bed with a cold. Lola of course brings him pink milk and biscuits and revels in the idea that she will be there every minute for Charlie until he gets better. Poor Charlie is horrified, and the story ends as he shouts for Mum.
It took me a while to appreciate the originality of Lauren Child's illustrations; at first I felt they did not compare with the likes of those of Quentin Blake and John Burningham, but I have grown to love the pointy chins, tiny but expressive mouths and huge eyes. I have, however, always admired the bold and unusual colour combinations in Child's Charlie and Lola stories. The juxtaposition of orange with pink, lime green or bright blue may sound too garish, but Lauren Child knows how to make it work, even with a red floral quilt thrown into the mix. There is also a stunning double page spread of multi-coloured, alien-resembling germs on a black background: oranges, purples, greens, blues and pinks all vie for our attention. Almost as striking is the glass of pink milk with an exaggerated curly straw, again on a black background, with two little birds perching on it as Lola watches the milk rising up toward her lips.
The font used for the text of 'I'm really ever so not well' is quite large but not always the same size, even within one word. It is always superimposed on the illustrations, usually on a light background, but when the background is black the font is white. At times the text curls and swirls expressively around the page as though it is part of the illustration: it follows the curves of the drinking straw, or the flight of a bee. The only disadvantage here is that it might be a little confusing for a young independent reader. 'I'm really ever so not well' is probably more suited to reading aloud by an adult, but I can imagine a slightly older sibling who is a confident reader enjoying reading this to a brother or sister of three or four years of age. The vocabulary would prove challenging to a child that is just beginning to learn to read.
I have found that Lauren Child's Charlie and Lola books are always successful as read-aloud stories with a group of three- to four-year-olds. Most of the children will be familiar with the characters from the television series as well, but the delightful way that Lola speaks, the humour and situations presented all make the books great fun. 'I'm really ever so not well' is a story that every child can identify with, and older readers will chuckle at poor Charlie's predicament, confronted by a little sister who dotes on him and is in her element when she has the chance to look after him. This would be an ideal book to borrow from the library when a child is ill in bed, but you are likely to feel that it is worth buying a copy. I would definitely recommend it.
I'm really every so not well (Charlie and Lola)
Paperback
Puffin Books, 2008
ISBN 9780141500812
Price £5.99
Saturday, 3 October 2009
Albert visits the cloud children
I have only recently discovered John Burningham's children's books, and I wonder why it has taken me so long to do so. The Financial Times describes Burningham as 'one of the best writers in the business', whilst the TES states that 'the language of children is Burningham's'. I wasn't over impressed by 'Mr Gumpy's Outing', but I nevertheless borrowed 'Cloudland' from the library and was particularly glad that I did.
'Cloudland' appeared to be a tragic story at the outset. Albert, a young boy, is out walking in the mountains with his parents, and they are actually above the clouds. Albert's father suddenly realises that it is beginning to get dark and urges his wife and son to hurry down whilst they can see where they are going. Poor Albert, however, almost immediately trips and falls off a cliff, leaving his parents feeling devastated. At this point I wondered whether this story would be just too tragic to read to young children, but then I found that Albert was safely caught by the children who live in the clouds.
The central part of the book shows Albert having fun during the days he spends with the cloud children. Together they play jumping games, make thunderous noises, swim in the rain, paint rainbows and go racing in the wind. As much as Albert enjoys all these amazing activities, the time comes when he begins to feel homesick and the Queen of Cloudland hears him shouting 'I WANT TO GO HOME.' Will she be able to send him back to Earth to be reunited with his grief-stricken parents?
Visually this is a stunning book, although I think it has to be said that many of the illustrations will be better appreciated by adults than by children. Well, why not, if it is adults who are reading the book? There are some double-page spreads with little or no text at all, where drawings of the characters are superimposed on breathtakingly beautiful photographs of mountains, sunset skies or storm clouds with pink-tinged edges. Children, however, will surely love the sketchy drawings of the cloud children holding out their hands to catch the falling Albert, banging drums and cymbals to create thunder and lightning, or jumping through billowing clouds. It is a wonderful book for allowing the imagination to run riot.
The text is in a large clear font. Sometimes there are as few as three lines per page, sometimes there is a whole page of text broken into short, well-spaced paragraphs and perhaps including a small, black-and-white sketch. There is quite a bit of dialogue, which helps to bring the characters to life. This could be a suitable book for confident young readers to tackle independently, especially as the illustrations will prove attractive and give hints to the storyline. The only problem is that the people of Cloudland occasionally utter magic words such as 'Hee ho goggle gralley fumble', or 'Teetum waggle bari se nee.' These are wonderful-sounding phrases that usual result in fits of giggles when reading the story aloud, but they might not be so easy for a young child to try to read on their own. Adult help could be needed there.
I have discovered some wonderful picture books for young children over the course of the past few months, but this has to be one of the very best in terms of both the originality of the story and the excellence of the illustrations. There is enjoyment to be had for the adult reader and the young child who is looking and listening; imaginations are stimulated in new directions. Don't hesitate to borrow it from your library, but also give it serious consideration as a present that I'm sure will be treasured.
Cloudland
by John Burningham
Paperback, 48 pages
Red Fox, 1999
ISBN 0099711613
Price £6.99 (Amazon £5.24)