War and peace with elephants

Tusk Tusk by David McKee continues this month's posts related to peace.   McKee is probably most known within ELT for his Elmer books.  But he's also the creator of the  Mr Benn books and films, very much part of my childhood memories. Mr Benn is a very ordinary looking banker, who wears a bowler hat,  but he has splendid adventures when he puts on different dressing up clothes, from a very special costume shop. The films were made in the 70's and I have discovered are now available on YouTube.  A truely brilliant discovery, I shall be watching them all over the next couple of weeks.  The music gives me those shivers associated with long ago memories.  Amazing!  Here's the link to Mr Benn, The Red Knight, the very first episode of the series ...  14 minutes of memory lane. 

McKee began writing and illustrating books in the 60's,  when picturebooks really began to take shape and become as we know them today.  His contemporaries are picturebook creators like John Burningham, Maurice Sendak, Eric Carle, Pat Hutchins and Raymond Briggs.  

Tusk Tusk was written in 1978 and is about black and white elephants who love everything except each other. Look at the cover, those two elephants, ready for a duel, separted by a tree, the home to birds. Keep your eye on these birds as you look at the book, for the way they react to all the elephants do is entertaining!

How about the peritext?  There's a great copyright page, with a cameo illustration of two fighting elephants and the ironic caption "Vive la différence!"  The visual clues tipping us off to the violent content continue with the title page - a fluffy, feathery tree separting two very angry elephants, tusks touching. 

As you look at some of the pictuebook pages, notice McKee's use of symmetry in the illustrations, the elephants are the same in every way, like mirrors of each other, just different colours.  

"Once all the elphants in the world were black or white.  They loved all creatures"

Don't they look happy and relaxed?  At one with nature and those bird friends they each have, and the trees are soft and feather-like, the left one even has green shoots.  Harmony and peace. 

"... but they hated each other."

Yikes, not only are the elephants looking mean, with trunks like fists, but the trees do too.  The leaves are spikey, they look as though they are swaying in the heated atmosphere.  The background wash is a pinky red, the colour of danger.  The next spread,  "... and each kept to his own side of the jungle." is shown by a powerful image of trees looking like walls, the elephants on either side.  They are lined up, like an army preparing for battle.    Can you guess what will happen next? 

... of course!  War is declared and the elephants huddle together, fists raised and glaring, black at white, white at black. The birds in the trees are flying off, beaks downturned, worried.   

Peace loving elephants, (for there were some) ran into the jungle, a deep dark jungle - so deep and dark (a maze of a place in fact) and they were never seen again.  And so the battle began.  It went on ...  and on. 

These missile-like trees are excellent hiding places for the elephants whose fist-like trunks have become powerful firearms.  And, as with many terrible wars, it didn't stop until all the elephants were dead. 

Piles of black and white elephants, brought together in death, lying against feather-like palm trees, trees we associate with peace and tranquility.  And what happened next?

Grandchildren of the peace-loving elephants came out of the jungle, and guess what, they were grey (I always wondered why elephants were grey!).  They are shown leaping, trunks waving, happy and playful.  The birds are back too, they're a little perplexed possibly, but happy to see their friends the elephants again. 

"... and since then elephants have lived in peace."

Cool illustration, a calm blue background,  just the one tree, a peaceful green, with a canopy of foliage that covers all elephants, no matter what.  They are calm and relaxed too, playing with each other and their friends the birds.  Look at their trunk-like trunks, no fists or firearm images.  A happy ending? 

"But recently the little ears and the big ears have been giving each other strange looks." 

And look at those birds, they look very annoyed.  Not good.  If you go back to the cool blue illustration you'll see big ears and small ears are on both sides of the tree together, but here they are separate, their trunks are now like hands, pointing or hiding whispered gossip. The trees are different again, each leaning away from the centrefold. 

Oh dear, not a happy ending, but we are left wondering, as the very last page has a cameo illustration ...

What do you think?  Was there another war?  

It's a deceptively simple picturebook, bringing violence and peace together on a page, an excellent title for children in upper primary and lower secondary providing space for discussion around such themes as racism, prejudice and tolerance.  TeachEnglish has a set of lesson plans for this very purpose, which can be downloaded here.  And a very readable article by Janet Evans can be downlaoded from my website, scroll down and click on "War and conflict: books can help." Finally I discovered a link to a useful set of guidelines for using Tusk Tusk for Philosophical discussion.

To finish, here's a short film of David McKee talking about his childhood and his first pictures.   

Turns out he loves Paul Klee, one of my favourite artists... Castle and sun must have  influenced Elmer! 

A simple story of war and peace

The Manneken Pis is a statue in Brussels of a child urinating.  Its history and origins are unclear but one of the tales told to tourists is that the statue represents a small boy who stopped a war by peeing on the enemy.   Vladimir Radunsky liked this particular story so much that he created a picturebook called,  Manneken Pis: a simple story of a boy who peed on a war.  

The front cover shows us Radunski's version of the boy doing his deed, and the back cover is a montage of a photo of the real statue, with the words ... "The people made a bronze statue of him and named it Manneken Pis. This all happened a long time ago."

Radunsky's illustrations are bold and bright, made with quick brushstrokes, done in a child-like fashion, against sparse backgrounds or sharply cut paper montages.  Really nice and eye catching.  The endpapers are striking,  and change colour from front to back.  Here are the front ones: 

Radunsky is introduced to us on the back dust jacket flap ... he's dressed in the costume of the period, a little red hat and ruffles on his jacket. It's a little strange, until you recognise him later within the story and he's also on the copyright page... he's our narrator of course! 

And so we begin, turn the page and we are introduced to the setting, "a small, beautiful town behind a stone wall."  It looks calm and serene, the poplar trees neatly placed around the town walls, houses around a big central plaza. The sun is shining.  

Throughout the picturebook Radunsky uses different sized fonts, as shown here.  They cleverly focus our attention on aspects of the narrative or the illustration. The story continues by introducing the characters, a boy, and his mother and father.  In a large font we read "His parents loved him madly."  They kiss him and play with him, and go to the flower market with him everyday...

"They were so happy."  ... in a huge big font above an exuberant page showing the family swimming in flowers.  But then something happened.  

"The War".  A mustard yellow page, a stark contrast to the light flowery one, previous.  Green faced soldiers, their tongues lolling, with dogs and medieval weapons, are seen marching across the double spread towards the idyllic  town.   They look mean. They ARE mean.  

They fight the town's men, depicted as gentlemen, clad in tights with plumed hats and carrying swords.  They are different to the club holding enemy, who seem uncouth and ignorant.  The background is divided into black and white, and gives the impression of the men being either in the town or outside the walls, at the same time reinforcing the fact that they fought "Day and night,   day and night." 

And then our narrator appears in his red hat and frilly collar, he points to the town, "... a small, sad town." ... now sombre, against a black background, two red crosses apparent on the church-like buildings.  

The little boy has lost his parents.  "Where did they go?"  He called but no one came. He looked and looked, but all he saw was fighting, all he heard was "Bang - Bang, Boom - Boom, Cling - Clang."  Poor chap.  He was scared and he needed his mum and dad ... "but he also needed ... to pee."  So he did! And here we see him urinating over the fighting soldiers.  

"Suddenly everything was still." Surprised faces look up, women and priests, men and soldiers.  Then somebody laughed ... "ha-ha-ha-ha." 

Radunsky has used that same mustard yellow, yet with all those smiling faces this yellow gives us a happy page.  Even the green faced enemies are grinning, everyone is happy! And so ... "On and on it went, until the sun has set and the first star came out, and the people had grown so tired of laughing that they dropped their arms and went to sleep.  When they woke up the next morning there was no more war.  Why? Because of that wonderful, wonderful little boy. Hurr-a-a-ah!!!" 

We are treated to an "Epilogue".  

We see our little boy reunited with his family; the narrator is answering questions from his audience of child and animal listeners. And of course, now you know the story, the whole story, you "... can tell it to your children, and they will tell it to their children, and their children will tell it to their children, and so on, and so on."  

The back end papers are a jovial, bright, peace-loving green ... 

... and it is here that we are introduced to our narrator, on the inside flap of the dust jacket:

What a quirky little book!  Could you use it in your classrooms?  The message of peace is clear.  Upper primary could possibly do a short project in which the students researched other statues, in their own country or other countries.  Are there any that have stories of peace behind them?  Are there any statues of children? 

It's thanks to my friend, and fellow picturebook lover, Janet Evans, who I was chatting to about 'peace' books, that I discovered this title ... Thanks Janet!

About being friends

Yo! Yes? is one of my most  favourite of picturebooks.  Its simplicity is deceiving, with one or two words on a page seen together with apparently hasty watercolour / charcoal illustrations - the combination of image / word is brilliant. It's a simple story - two boys meet, they talk and become friends.  But that very short summary ignores the visual impact of each page and double spread. Chris Raschka uses a large (I think) hand written font for each punctuated utterance, and it becomes as much part of the image as his vibrant depictions of the two boys, one black the other white.  

Don't miss the dedication and copyright page, which shows us how the two boys meet, walking past each other in the street. One solitary black boy waiting, arms crossed, but facing us.  Large trainers, laces undone. He's  happy, and ready to talk to anyone. The white boy is intent on walking away, anywhere as long as it's away, he's sad too, we can see his turned down mouth and his shoulders are haunched inwards. 

Chris Raschka has painted the background in light washes, starting with a greeny blue and moving through pinky red, orangey yellow and finally a glowing bright yellow, they represent the emotions on each page.  And each figure is outlined by this wash, as though in a spotlight, a spotlight for each boy - visually it both unites and separates them on the page - they are both boys, yet different. 

Moving into the book, our young black 'dude', (for he is definitely cool), stops this possible friend in mid-step, when we turn the page we see a large arresting 'Yo!' and Chris Raschka's figures ooze unspoken communication. The white boy's posture, with simple charcoaled eyes and mouth, together with the small size reply, 'Yes' and the accompanying '?'  convey the depths of uncertainty he is feeling.  

Each page and spread continue in this way, a visual dialogue between the two boys, where we read the words, the punctuation and their postures as one whole visual communicative act.  The two boys remain centered on their respective pages, their feet anchoring them to the spot, but their bodies leaning forwards or backwards; their arms out or folded in over their chests; their heads up or down.  

With each utterance and pose, we learn the problem.  The white boy has no friends.  His head drops, his shoulders droop.  

The black boy can't believe it. And so he offers his own friendship.  His chest is proudly stuck out towards the white boy, he points at the bull's eye like circle on his t-shirt.  The white boy's reaction confirms the doubt we already feel inside ... friends? 

And after some thought, with the background washes moving through pink to yellow, swaying left to right, the white boy gleefully decides that he will accept the offer of friendship. The big hand written word almost squashes him with its weight. 

And so we turn the page, and the boys are together, the white boy has crossed over to the other side of the double spread, walking to the left with his newfound friend. They are joyous, shaking hands and the white spotlight is on both of them, no longer separate, uniting the two boys. The bright yellow wash in the background emphases their happiness and the words, both beginning with 'y' unite them too... rolling off our tongue as we read them in our heads. 

But it's not the end, there's one final page, the boys are depicted on a single page. They are so happy, they are jumping up out of the top boarder, they are jumping up and over the word, 'Yow!'  They are no longer achored to the bottom of the page, but free to leap and loop.  Free to be friends, black or white. 

When you re-read this picturebook, your students will be ready with that 'Yow!', no matter how old they are.  It's an excellent introduction to cultural differences and friendships, and you can use this picturebook to  talk a little about that.  

The pictoral effect of the handwritten font is a great introduction to punctuation and voice inflection too.  Look at all the different ways we can say 'Yes': 

'Yes?', 'Yes!', 'Yes.'  

Play around with other words using the different punctuation they have discovered, and look at how punctuation is used in the book - help the children see how the punctuation matches Raschka's  drawings - there's emotion in both. 

Perhaps you could divide your class into two groups, each representing one of the boys. Chorus the rhythmic dialogue, each group saying their side of the conversation.  Then get your students to do short dramatizations, uniting voice inflection and movement.  

Older students might want ot write another story about friendship, carefully punctuated and maybe even illustrated or dramatised.  

If you want to see Chris Raschka talking about how he makes a book there's a fun film on youtube.  

A beautiful book about physical disability

Selecting picturebooks for this month has been difficult.  I wanted a theme, but at the same time I didn't. So I decided to look at titles which I always return to when I want to make a point about the variety of themes picturebooks offer us and the opportunity they provide for discussion and thought.  

I start this November collection with one of my favourite picturebooks, Susan Laughs, created by an author illustrator team, who have worked together on many a picturebook, Jeanne Willis and Tony Ross.  On the front flap of the dust jacket of my hardback edition it says:

"Susan laughs, she sings, she rides she swings.  She gets angry, she gets sad, she good, she's bad.  In fact, despite her physical challenges, Susan is no different from any other child."  

The back cover reads: 

"Without being condescending or preachy, the words, pictures and design of this very simple picturebook show that a physically disabled child is 'just like me, just like you'" 

It's a truely beautiful book to look at, for Tony Ross' illustrations are sublime.  Using coloured crayons, he's created very painterly images, cleverly cross-hatching colours together to give semi-transparent backgrounds.  His figures are solid and full of character, and Susan in particular is a mixture of impish sweet.   Ross is indeed a genius, not just because he can draw so well, but because of the humour he always brings into his work, whether in collaboration with an author, or when illustrating his own work.  Susan laughs is no exception.

The front cover introduces us to Susan on a see-saw, if you open the book out you'll find the back cover is a continuation of the illustration. Daddy is sitting on the other end of the see-saw, he is pushing with his strong legs, and Susan's are dangling loosely.  This is a visual message which will only make sense upon re-readings, and re-lookings.  In my paperback edition, following front matter pages show two framed illustrations of Susan, her grin getting bigger and bigger until on the title page she's in full beam.  

Once again these are images which will only begin to give meaning upon re-encounters - they are non-existent in the hardback edition which fewer teachers will be using. 

The bummff on the back cover highlighted the "words, pictures and design" contributing to the simplicity of the book, and indeed design is cleverly put into use.  Willis has written in verse, and Ross has ensured that the rhythm of the rhyming couplets is reflected in the illustrations, with each spread containing either two square images or four upright rectangular ones, in a sort of repeated pattern.  So we are shown two spreads with large illustrations, then a spread with four smaller ones, several times over, visually supporting the rhythm with which we read in the words.  Each illustration is self contained, framed on the page, leaving a white boarder for the rhyming text. 

Here is an example of Ross' visual humour, in the rhyming couplet: 

"Susan splashes, Susan spins, Susan waves, Susan grins". 

Look at how he shows Susan in all these illustrations, with family and friends.  My favourite is Susan imitating the Mona Lisa!

In the sets of four smaller illustrations Ross gives them a connecting narrative sequence, as you can see from the four I've selected below. At the end of the book, appropriately, as though it were also the end of a day with Susan, we see her in bed. 

"Susan feels, Susan fears, Susan hugs, Susan hears."

And not once are we given an inkling that she cannot walk, so much so that when we see the very last page, and we read the words, we immediately go back and check, surely she was using her legs somehwere?  But no... Susan really can do all those things and she's in a wheelchair.

"That is Susan through and through - just like me, just like you."

This title has been used in a children's literature and diversity project run through the British Council Young Learner Centre in Paris.  The activities that have been devised can be downloaded  here.   

But for me, it's reading and looking which are key to this little gem. It's a picturebook to be shared, and then browsed over with or by individual children.  The natural rhythm of the words and their rhymes, make it easy to memorize, and the pictures make us look and look again, with all sorts of visual treasures to discover, and smile at when we do.  

  

'It's a book' ... full of laffs!

I got an email from a friend yesterday with silly jokes about computers and what they've done to us since they took over our lives BIG TIME just over a decade ago.  It reminded me of the article I read after comments from a fellow blogger concerning the diminishing number of picturebooks in book shops, and the discussions I've lurked on about the death of the book and 'long live digital'. So I decided to dedicate this post to "It's a Book".  

Lane Smith, the creator of this picturebook wrote: "The reason I made the book? Certainly not to 'throw down the gauntlet', as one critic has stated.  Naw, I just thought digital vs traditional made for a funny premise.  No heavy message, I'm only in it for the laffs." 

Laffs?  Lots of them!  It's a brilliant collection of facing pages with much of the information coming from the illustrations, though of course it's the interaction between word and picture that create the humour.

The front cover, as you can see above, stars a book loving monkey; the back cover shows us a jackass, confidently sitting in a chair holding a book and confiring "No... it's a book." The inside pages show us how he discovered the book. 

The endpapers are a warm orange, reflecting the colour tones throughout the book.  (Interestingly the book featured in the story is also an orangly colour.)  We move from warm orange to a dusty blue past a simple dedication and no copyright page. The title page covers a double spread, introducing the characters: 'It's a mouse'; 'It's a jackass' and 'It's a monkey'.  The choice 'jackass', instead of 'donkey' is obvious, but it only hits you when you get to the final page.  

Lane Smith has described the monkey as traditional and the jackass as modern, and visually they are the opposites of each other too.  The pointedness of the jackass radiates speed, modern day efficiency, and relentlessness (using Smith's own word for his character), he's tiny too! The monkey's roundness oozes a slower life, a calmer, ponderous one.  He's enormous next to the jackass!  

Jackass asks lots of questions, 'How do you scroll down?; Do you blog with it?' 

This is one of my favourite facing sets, when we are introduced to the mouse. 'Where's your mouse?'  

Questions continue, 'Can you make characters fight?'  'Can it text?' 'Tweet?' 'Wi-Fi?' 'Can it TOOT?'  Calm traditional monkey keeps replying, 'No, it's a book.' Another fun page is the jackass' reaction to seeing a page of the book, (which is actually 'Treasure Island'). '

'Too many letters.  I'll fix it.' says the jackass! But jackass is eventually tempted to take a good look at the book and time flies, depicted not in the words, as there are none, but in a series of clocks which move from 12.05 to 16.35, but on a good old-fashioned clock with hands! 

The frustrated monkey ends up going to the library, and our mod-con jackass still seems to think the book needs charging.  Back comes our friend the mouse, from under the monkey's hat. 'YOU DON'T HAVE TO...' 

And we all know the answer to that ... 'IT'S A BOOK, JACKASS.'

Following my usual obsession with peritext, I particularly like the way the copyright page is at the back of the book, and includes a bit of bumff about Lane Smith.  Very cleverly done! 

The short, simple sentences in this picturebook are deceptive  - this is a book which works on many levels, playing on our commonly shared understanding of what computers and books do, as well as knowing a little about what certain books contain.  

Lane Smith contributes to a blog called Curious Pages, where he's written about 'It's a book', describing some of the options he made as an illustrator, with the help of his wife, who designs books.  It's well worth visiting.  And there's a book trailer on Youtube, which is fun too. But the book is better!

How could we use 'It's a book' in the classroom?  Well, it's an excellent picturebook for boys! Why not use it to begin discussions about before and after.  Many of our younger students don't know a life without technology, but they could ask parents and grandparents and think about the world before computers became part of everyday life.  Look at some of the verbs like blog, text, tweet, wi-fi ... and scroll ... what is a scroll, and how different is it from the verb to scroll.  I wonder what happened when books began replacing scrolls?  But most importantly, look at the book, read it together with your students and have a good old laff.