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| No. 19. This seemed ... ominous. |
I want to start by reprinting this review I came across on Amazon for The Silver Crown:
“I made the mistake of loaning this book to a ‘friend’ who never returned it, about 5 years ago, and it has haunted me ever since. I was horrified when I searched for it and found out it was out of print, and delighted when I found it today on Amazon. I first read it as a teenager and I must have re-read it a dozen times. This is an absolute MUST READ for every teenage girl out there wishing for a fantasy/adventure story whose hero is a girl, not a boy, and where typical misogynistic themes such as how pretty the heroine is and what she is wearing are completely irrelevant. I cannot wait to get my book in the mail!!!!!”
What I find so interesting about this is that it so accurately reflects the spirit of the present moment, when Disney and other creators of pop culture have taken it upon themselves to correct a crisis that I don't believe ever existed: That women have been under-represented in children’s stories and movies — and that when women were present, they were inevitably given sexist, gender-role-conforming, secondary, and supportive roles. Never as the heroes.
I disagree with this thesis. Indeed, the great majority of books I read growing up had female protagonists, and I read them happily, without objection, and without, by and large, even noticing. Give me a good protagonist. The rest is unimportant.
Anyway, with that in mind, here are the first eight of my all-time top 22 children’s books, with some comments. I wish it were easier for readers of this blog to leave their own comments, though. I’d love to hear what you all think of these, or which books you think should be added/removed from this list, and why.
No. 22: Mrs. Pepperpot (series) (Alf Proysen, 1956)
This series of books is for littler kids — I remember reading it with my Mom (first) at 6 or 7. It features the kind of magical protagonist — an older woman who would often, and without warning, shrink to the size of a pepperpot — that I was fascinated by at that age. (See also: Mrs. Piggle-Wiggle, by Betty McDonald, published in 1947). Despite this pretty sizable (no pun intended) handicap, Mrs. Pepperpot was resourceful and good-humored, and always found ways to get out of problems. Good stuff.
No. 21: How to Eat Fried Worms (Thomas Rockwell, 1973)
I believe this American novel was read to our 2nd or 3rd grade class in elementary school by our school librarian, but I frequently checked it out to re-read it on my own afterwards. A young boy makes a bet with a friend that he can eat a worm a day for 50 days, and as he gets closer and closer to winning the bet the friend starts trying to keep him from succeeding. The gross subject is of course an instant winner for the 3rd graders in the room, but the story is exciting and funny, and it’s ultimately about commitment, persistence, and even doing what you want/need to do regardless of whether other people think it’s cool or not.
No. 20: Pippi Longstocking (series) (Astrid Lindgren, 1945)
The series of stories about the mysterious little girl with the bright red hair. We all know Pippi, of course, and the stories are — like Mrs. Pepperpot — magical and funny. But they may also have been the first stories I read — they’re certainly the first stories I remember reading — about sadness. Pippi’s longing for her absent father colors many of the stories, and she is really the first sort-of complex character I ever remember coming across. Even as an 8-year old I could tell that her gaiety sometimes covered up an inner sadness, and while she was genuinely an enthusiastic and happy child, there was more going on. Amazing what Astrid Lindgren packed into those stories.
No. 19: The Wolves of Willoughby Chase (Joan Aiken, 1962)
I remember putting off reading this English novel because the cover was … serious, and that somehow made me think it was going to be painful, and maybe even boring. Of course it was neither of those things. It was, instead, dramatic, action-packed, and thrilling, set in an alternative England that was dark, sinister, and threatening, and about three young orphans forced to avoid dire threats posed by their governess and teacher. For what it’s worth, although I never read any of the A Series of Unfortunate Events books, my sense is they were fairly similar.
No. 18: From the Mixed-Up Files of Mrs. Basil E. Frankweiler (E. L. Konigsburg, 1967)
Everyone knows this book — it’s hardly even worth summarizing. Even today, though, I remember Michelangelo was born in Bologna because of this story of a brother and sister who run away from home and live in the New York Metropolitan Museum of Art in New York City, avoiding the guards, living off the coins they take from the fountain, and eventually getting wrapped up in a mystery. It’s a classic for a reason.
No. 17: Encyclopedia Brown (series) (Donald J. Sobol, 1963)
Oh, I’m not sure the quality of the writing holds up to most of the other books on this list. But I came from a family of mystery readers — Agatha Christie, Ngaio Marsh, and PD James paperbacks were all over our house on Wolverine Road in Ann Arbor — and, when I was about eight years old, Encyclopedia Brown served as my entry into the genre. These stories, featuring a teenage detective often forced to foil his arch-nemesis, Bugs Meany, with the conclusions to each mystery (including the solution) included at the back of the book, were genius. It’s how I remember to this day that squirrels don’t back down trees, they go down head-first — a fact that Encyclopedia once cited to prove that a story put forward by Bugs was in fact completely bogus.
No. 16: Homer Price (Robert McCloskey,1943)
The most famous of this collection of stories featuring the eponymous hero is almost certainly the one about the donut machine that does … not … stop … making … donuts. They actually transformed that story into a short movie that I remember seeing on TV in the early 70s, and that, surprisingly, I was able to find on YouTube (here). It’s not as good as the book, though. It’s funny; although I see that the book was first published in 1943, somehow I don’t remember feeling, as I read it in the mid-70s, that it was old-fashioned or irrelevant. The stories were timeless and funny. Close in style, maybe, to the “A Christmas Story” movie. Maybe.
No. 15: Mrs. Frisby and the Rats of NIMH (Robert C. O’Brien, 1971)
Proud to say that I read it (well, first it was read to us by the Mary Mitchell Elementary School librarian, then I re-read it) before Disney got ahold of it. An adventure/escape story involving super-smart rats who had themselves escaped from the National Institute of Mental Health (where they had been “lab rats”), that had drama, suspense, sacrifice, courage, and everything else you could want. I’m not surprised Disney made a successful movie out of it, but again — I got there first.
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