elegantly dressed bedtime
King Babar and Queen Celeste, from Babar's Travels
Today's Elegantly Dressed Wednesday post comes to you late - almost too late - in honour of which we bring you a bedtime story...
Or not, actually, because to my shame and sadness I have no Babar books here. Oherwise I'd be scanning. And to be honest I am too tired to write much right now. Hence the wishful thinking I can display via this charming picture. The red-piped pyjamas, the tea, the matching brass-tipped beds! It is all one could ask of cosiness, and an effortlessly elegant kind of cosiness at that.
The innate elegance of Babar is contained in, I believe, three elements:
1. a beautiful restrained tone in all the books, in which life is accepted graciously and with a minimum of fuss. This is no small things, as the books are predicated on the early death of Babar's mother, and indeed as he was writing them Jean de Brunhoff was suffering - and then dying - from tuberculosis. But as my great hero Maurice Sendak wrote in his 1981 essay "Jean de Brunhoff":* "[this early loss] permeates all the books, but it is never allowed to overwhelm or destroy Babar's self-confidence. It is living that concerns and delights de Brunhoff. He recognises death as inseparable from the fixed order of things and is never obsessed with it."
2. rectitude of bearing and accoutrements; manners; comme il faut. This is a lesson that, for example, Jane Austen also teaches us: that life is really much easier and more pleasant if people behave nicely.
3. sweep of vision; drama, scale, splendour. Sendak writes of children being able to "climb into" a Babar book (remember, the early ones with script text were enormous), and even with the smaller books we get now the pictures are imposing. The colours are fresh and bright, the composition always wonderful, and the sum always even more than the parts. Sendak further says:
"No one before and very few since have utilised the double-spread illustration to such dazzling, dramatic effect. When Babar and Celeste are taken prisoner in The Travels of Babar, there is a spectacular circus scene. The handsome red arch that denotes the arena floor is also a menacing symbol of their confinement. There is no doubt that the artist is enjoying himself tremendously... And were the grand parade scene from... [Babar the King] to be set to a joyous march, Berlioz would be most suitable. This picture, by the way, actually moves rhythmically in step if you keep your eye on all those stolid elephant feet, all thumpingly clumping to the same measure. Colour, costume, high comedy mixed with touching solemnity blend into a characteristic composition that appears artless on the surface but is, in fact, extravagantly complex."**
Picture now, at the very end, after illness and travail, the small monkey Zephyr carrying a banner which reads: "Long Live Happiness."
* collected in the book Caldecott & Co: notes on books and pictures, Reinhart Books, 1988
** textbook definition of elegance, methinks you'll find!
6 comments:
Nice post on a very serious matter - children's books. I taught kindergarten for six years...and the import of books in introducing children to the world (and in reintroducing adults), is so important. Kudos,
Fool, you are so right. Don't even get me started.
I can still, if this makes any sense, feel the textures of the pictures I loved as a child. Some, like the Babar books, I never really thought that much about till I was grown up and realised how important they'd been. Kids do absorb things.
Most picture books, even now, are pap. Pap. Why IS oit that most fairy tale and nursery rhyme books are illustrated with cartoon-style drawings? What is that ABOUT?
Clearly, as you say, it's about grownups not getting it and not remembering being a child. Oh, anyway, don't get me started.
Right. Late for work.
I'll just say one thing. Madeline.
Completely disagree - there are lots of brilliant picture books out there, cartoon or just plain, old-fashioned illustrated. Try 'Tadpole's Promise' by Jeanne Willis for just one example off the top of my head.
Every generation has its classics - it's our job to share ours, but not force them, on the next generation.
(BTW - I did that EDW round-up. You can find it on my blog.)
Quink, what? There's TONS of great stuff.
I do object to the ubiquitous pastel cartoons which are often just ugly, and often assume that children have trivial taste. Try finding a dignified and beautiful edition of Mother Goose - you won't. I tried for years. Ditto the fairy tales, which are admittedly out of vogue as being too un-PC. Ditto the myths, though.
By the way, I'm not talking about the Ahlbergs when I say cartoon-style. They are woderful and I have always loved them.
"Going on a Bear Hunt" has already been mentioned on this blog; we had it in a glorious huge hardback.
There are several things too new for my kids which look ace to me - Olivia being one.
There are of course different categories of children's picture books, like anything else. Some are derivitive pap - some are of their time, others are great fun, some are literature, and some are art.
Anyway, it's all taste, isn't it. I never really loved Dick Bruna, but I did love Helen Oxenbury. I hated Shirley Hughes until I had babies of my own and then I realised how amazing she was. Though I do prefer her earlier works.
Fscinating, and from fifties America, are the Lonely Doll books. They're as much for the grownups as the kids, I think, but some children would be riveted by them.
Ditto Eloise.
We never tired of My Naughty Little Sister. You don't need a sister to like it.
I wish I could point to more examples but most of the picture books somehow ended up at the kids' dad's house - more space - even my giant Babars...
We always got a kick out of "The Goops".
I was just objecting to the 'most picture books are pap' bit. Glad you agree there's tons of good stuff - I think there's never been a better era than the present one for charming, moving, thoughtful and witty picture books (guess who used to run a reading club programme for schools...)
And yes, it's all taste. I hate Oxenbury's illustrations to Going on a Bear Hunt, but I love the story so, so much (as does the baby)... Stumble Trip, Stumble Trip...
Anyway, my mantra is that you're never too old for picture books. It's a shame that the British often think they are: France has a much better attitude.
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