Suho’s White Horse: A Mongolian Legend is the retelling of one of the legends that explains the origins of Mongolia’s national musical instrument, the morin khuur, or horse hair fiddle, which always has a carved horse’s head at the top of its pegbox.

Suho, a young Mongolian shepherd boy, rescues and rears a white foal. A few years later he is persuaded to enter a horse-race with the governor’s daughter’s hand in marriage as the prize. With his beautiful white horse, of course Suho wins the race – but when the governor finds out that Suho is a shepherd he not only goes back on his word, but has his soldiers beat Suho up and steals the horse.

Suho manages to get home and is nursed back to health. Meanwhile, the white horse escapes. Incensed, the governor orders his men to catch the white horse – and if they can’t catch it, to kill it. The white horse does manage to return to Suho but is so badly injured that it dies. Suho is heartbroken but the horse comes to him in a dream and tells him to use different parts of his body to create a musical instrument – and so the morin khuur is born.

This retelling of Suho’s White Horse by Yuzo Otsuka, and translated by Richard McNamara and Peter Howlett (RIC Publications, 2006) is great for reading aloud, with plenty of detail. Both Older Brother and Little Brother became emotionally involved in the story very quickly, reacting to the different stages with outrage, horror and sadness. Hans Christian Andersen Award winner (1980) Suekichi Akaba‘s illustrations are beautiful, conveying the vastness of the steppe as well as the story’s emotive narrative.

And a real bonus with this edition is the accompanying CD that contains a musical retelling of the legend played on the morin khuur itself by “the horse-head fiddle’s finest player” Li Bo (scroll down this page to read an interview with him). We were all captivated by the haunting music and the boys had quite a deep discussion of which bit of music referred to which bit of the story.

I’m excited to have found this recording of Suho’s White Horse on You Tube with Lai Haslo playing the morin khuur and Zhang Lin on the Chinese dulcimer. I hope you enjoy it as much as we have – listen out for the horse galloping.

Anthony Browne is the UK’s Children’s Laureate for 2009-2011.    A friend recently brought his work to my attention through a Guardian article containing a gallery of Browne’s artwork.  As I was going to the library that day, I decided to take out some of Browne’s books.   Well, what a delight!  I took out a stack and on arriving home, devoured them all with my daughter that very afternoon after she got home from school.   She was already familiar with a few of the titles like Willy the Dreamer and Little Beauty because they were in her classroom, but a few other ones were new to her like the deliciously funny and parodic Piggybook.  In fact, I read the latter, snickering aloud in the library.  The story although funny enough isn’t the half of it,  — with Browne’s work, it is really also all about the pictures.  It was my daughter who pointed out to me how — as the Piggot family slowly turned into pigs — everything else in the house began to resemble pigs as well, right down to the wallpaper and the paintings on the wall, and gulp, even the moon!   Clearly, my daughter was already better-versed  on how to ‘read’ this man’s books!   She was especially fond of Willy the Dreamer in which William (a gorilla) dreams of what he might become.  The pleasure in the reading of this book for her was finding all the bananas in each picture — all very cleverly disguised.  Two books of Browne’s that I was particularly taken by were The Tunnel and Through the Magic Mirror.   Using two very symbolic items, Browne explores’ a siblings relationship in The Tunnel, while Through the Magic Mirror is about a boy who discovers through the mirror, an alternate and absurd world on a day when he is particularly fed up with everyone (including himself, my daughter added.)   Browne’s books are a true visual delight and anyone familiar with painting will get a kick at all his pointed references to famous artists like Dali and Magritte in some of his books.   You’d do well to seek out Browne’s books like I did and enjoy an evening or afternoon’s reading pleasure with your child.

Based on a Buddhist folktale, For the Love of a Cat by Rosalind Wilson (1942–1992) and illustrated by Wen Hsu (Katha, 2010) is a thought-provoking story about acceptance and having the courage to do something you know deep down is right, even if it goes against the status quo. Don’t get me wrong, though – there’s nothing heavy-handed about the story or its retelling here: in fact, it would provide a very gentle, reassuring end to the day, as a bedtime readaloud.

An impoverished artist who lives with his beloved cat Tara arrives at his last meal, a small fish. Realising that it is not enough for both of them, he gives it to Tara then lies down to await death. Instead, some Buddhist monks come knocking at the door and give him the best comission he’s ever had: “a beautiful painting of the Holy One with all the creatures of nature around him.” There’s just one condition – “all the creatures of nature” does not include cats, since they had heard that the Buddha did not like them. The painter begins his work in the temple, but meanwhile Tara becomes very ill and he finds himself in a terrible quandary – to follow orders or his heart…

I was so happy to find this book in the pile I brought back recently from the office in San Francisco – I’ve been a big fan of illustrator Wen Hsu’s since we featured her in our Gallery and I interviewed her a couple of years ago. Her illustrations here are just as gorgeous as you’d expect, with her signature combination of bright colors and paper cut-outs. There’s a wonderful array of faces to take in, as well as plenty of animals for small listeners to find, and Tara the cat is just beautiful. As well as the book cover above, you can get an idea of the artwork from Wen’s photo of all the originals laid out here, on Wen’s blog.

And if the story sounds familiar, it is probably because you know The Cat Who Went to Heaven by Elizabeth Coatsworth, which won the Newbery Medal in 1930. In that retelling of the story for older readers, the setting is Japan. Depending on the ages of your children, why not read them both; or read For the Love of a Cat now, with its vibrant Indian setting, and make a note to introduce them to Coatsworth’s beautifully written tale in a few years’ time?

So is Christmas in Australia different from other places in the world? Well, that’s what “someone has whispered,” and the littlest angel is sent to find out in Angel in a Gum Tree, a delightful picture book written by Diana Chase and Valerie Krantz, and illustrated by Heather Hummel (Freemantle Arts Centre Press, 1999/2006). The angel visits people all over Australia with his checklist to see how their preparations and celebrations compare with other countries around the world, and discovers that in essence Christmas is the same. But along the way, the littlest angel and we readers encounter traditions from other countries that have been absorbed into the celebration of Christmas in Australia – traditional stories from around the world, or, greetings in different languages on Christmas cards arriving from far away.

This combination of the global unity of the Christmas message, and the different nuances of how that is conveyed make sharing Angel in a Gum Tree a deep experience that is further enhanced by the wonderful illustrations. The text is fairly short and straightforward, but be prepared for spending some time poring over the many details depicted. We loved the heavenly host singing over the stable in Bethlehem – these are angels that look like people you could meet on many streets around the world; they really gave us pause for thought. The narrative is interspersed with vignettes, and then there are double-page spreads crammed with often humorous details that had Older and Little Brothers calling out over and over again. And through it all, the littlest angel carries out his joyous inspection, gradually gathering some Australian paraphernalia of his own (just what is the little creature he has in his bag? Is it a kind of wallaby?).

Angel in a Gum Tree is a delightful book to share – for us the universality of the Christmas message was enhanced by absorbing images and allusions to a very different-looking summertime celebration (“What? I didn’t see a barbie. Quick – where is it?”) – and for Australian readers, this must be a real joy, with the familiar providing a spring-board to arrive at the same point of arrival/departure.

P.S. Don’t forget to take a look at our 1,000th post, with the chance of winning a Spirit of PaperTigers 2010 book set…

We have just returned home from a wonderful concert at Older Brother’s school – the only school on award-winning New Zealand school choir Choralation’s UK tour. The choir, made up of students from Westlake Girls and Boys High Schools in Auckland, treated us to a vibrant, at times breath-taking performance of music from all over the world. Coming back in the car afterwards we totted up eight different languages, including Maori and Samoan. So, of course, our bedtime reading tonight just had to be a New Zealand book. Before I talk about it, though, a quick shout out for Choralation’s last venue on their tour – Crown Court Church of Scotland, Covent Garden, London, where they will be giving a concert on Friday 17 December at 7.30pm and joining the church choir for their Sunday morning service on the 19th at 10.00am – if you are in London and able to go – DO!

So what did we read when we got home? Well, Myths and Legends of Aotearoa retold by Annie Rae Te Ake Ake (Scholastic, 1999) came immediately to hand and was perfect. The book contains fifteen different legends. By looking at the map at the beginning, which pinpoints where each legend is set, Little Brother chose “The Battle of the Mountains” as it was quite near Auckland and located in “National Park.” He was very happy with his choice, enjoying the personification of the mountains and gleefully interrupting to say they were volcanos long before it was stated. We all had a go at saying the Maori words included, as well as the names, though I don’t think our pronunciation was very good – but we will delve into it a bit more, with the help of the glossary provided at the end of the book (incidentally, no translations are given in the actual text). All the retellings here are great for reading aloud, and are just the right length for a bedtime story when you’re wondering if you really have time…

What makes this particular collection extra special is that all the illustrations were created by ‘New Zealand Secondary School Artists’. Serendipitously, you can see Angus Kerr’s illustration for “The Battle of the Mountains” here. The “About the Author and Illustrators” section at the end includes photographs and a write-up about each of them, and just like the Choralation concert, it makes for inspirational reading – and it’s great that we, on the other side of the world, are able to enjoy so much young talent coming out of New Zealand.

On the Tip of a Pin was… by Geeta Dharmarajan (founder and executive director of non-profit organisation Katha) and illustrated by Ludmilla Chakrabarty (Katha, 2009)… what an intriguing, zany title, and an intriguing, zany cover. And indeed, what a book. We ABSOLUTELY LOVE it (And I wish I had scope on this blog to show that via the actual print on the page, like the book does!)!! The story is so exuberant and silly and yet conveys a depth of meaning so profound that readers of all ages will enjoy it – and it certainly becomes a heads-together, collaborative bedtime readaloud. The illustrations seem to spill out of the text in a profusion of color and the various contortions of Worm’s twisting, digging body. Yes, this story revolves around a worm. If you’d asked me before picking up On the Tip of a Pin was… whether I liked stories about worms, I would probably have said that, although not my reading of choice, I would suffer them for the sake of my two boys: but now, well, if all worm stories can be this hilarious and thought-provoking, I’m converted.

In brief, the story stars a long, troublesome, zzzooooooommmming worm, who is considered the bane of the the lives of the people, including 20 children, and the lion, pig, cow and goat who all live on the tip of a pin in the town of Pintipur – until, that is, the worm shows them how to explore the world and indeed space through the wormholes she makes. Worm doesn’t change by the end of the story, despite the children’s best efforts, but their attitudes do. Plenty of more-than-satisfying nonsensical twists lead this tail, no I mean tale, from beginning to end – and then, just when you think you’ve come to the end of the ride, you turn the page and discover there’s more to wormholes than you realised. Budding physicists may already be aware that wormholes are “actually like a ‘shortcut’ through space and time.” Wow! So then you have to read the story all over again, adding that extra layer to the narrative. Wonderful!

Some aspects of this unique book that we love: (more…)

Lately for bedtime reading, I have been reading more chapter books to my daughter.  This month we started on a book called When the Cherry Blossoms Fell by Jennifer Maruno (Napoleon and Company, 2009).  The story begins on the eve of soon-to-be nine-year-old Michiko’s birthday.  It is March 1942 in Vancouver, and Michiko awaits the arrival of her father from a business trip — he works as a candy salesman for The Imperial Confectionary Company of Canada — but instead of his return, Michiko’s mother Eiko gets an alarming phone call.  Michiko’s father has been put in jail!

With this vivid opening, the story of Michiko’s family’s trials through the events of 1942 that affected thousands of Japanese Canadians on the west coast begins.  Soon Michiko and her family will have to move, forcibly relocated to the interior of British Columbia.  Slowly it dawns on Michiko, despite her family’s best attempts to shield her, what this event signifies for her as a Canadian of Japanese descent whose country is at war with Japan.

Although my daughter is aware of her cultural background, I don’t generally foist books on her about Japanese Canadian history or culture without her first indicating interest.  This is especially true now that we are entering the realm of chapter books which require a longer commitment of time.  In the case of When the Cherry Blossoms Fell, when I presented it to her, she said rather astutely “Read what it says on the back.”  After hearing the crib on the back page, she felt it was worth the investment of our time at night together reading this book.  And so we began reading When the Cherry Blossoms Fell together.  My daughter is certainly figuring out how to ‘read’ a book in more ways than one these days!

What a thrill to receive in the post a few days ago Allen Say‘s new book, The Boy in the Garden (Houghton Mifflin, 2010). I’ve been on tenterhooks to read it since getting a glimpse of the mock-up at the Bologna Children’s Book Fair. Little Brother was just as excited as I was and we read it that evening as our bedtime story.

Set in Japan, the story tells of a New Year visit that Jiro pays to a neighbor with his father, who, as is a parent’s wont, instructs him to be on his best behavior: but too busy looking around, taking in the beautiful garden for himself, “The boy did not hear him.” Jiro soon wanders through the house into the garden, where he is captivated by the statue of a crane. As he reaches out to touch it, he is disturbed by laughter behind him, from his father and Mr Ozu. Stung, he runs deeper into the garden and is suddenly carried into the world of one of the stories his mother tells him: a rather bitter-sweet tale called The Grateful Crane, which Say retells at the beginning of the book…

The Boy in the Garden is a charming story that blends realism and imagination with such a keen awareness of the child’s perspective that 9-year-old Little Brother couldn’t stop himself asking several times, “Is it really the Crane Woman?” or “Did it really happen?” The art-work is as breath-taking as one would expect – a small boy you just want to pick up and cuddle; a beautiful, ethereal Crane Woman; and the luminescent scenes filled with unobtrusive, authentic detail.

This is a perfect book for sharing together. It’s a story that will grow with young listeners until they become adults themselves: because Say’s writing is so perfectly attuned to the perspective of all his characters – and his readers. For example, I know that the significance of the adults laughing held a slightly different nuance for Little Brother than it did for me. I’ve been there; I’ve done that. Hmm, a slight feeling of guilt – but it’s washed away by the end, as father and son walk home together. Father tries to play along, only to have the cold water of reality (or is it?) thrown over him:

“You know, son, for a moment that crane looked real.”
“It’s just a statue, Papa.”

Now, how many times has that happened?! But, of course, there’s the suggestion of a twist at the very end, which keeps the uncertainty alive…

Thank you, Allen Say, for another masterpiece.

Such a coincidence – I am currently reading Marguerite van Geldermalsen‘s enthralling Married to a Bedouin (Virago, 2006), when what should I come across, with Raymond Briggs uppermost in my mind, following Corinne’s post a couple of days ago, but the heading “The Elephant and the Bad Baby”. This classic illustrated by Briggs and written by Elfrida Vipont is one of our family favourites and I loved Marguerite’s description of reading it with her daughter:

Soon after dinner I made our bed ready against the back wall of the cave and cuddled up to read with Salwa from the treasures Mum sent [from New Zealand]. I didn’t always speak to her in English, and she spoke mostly Arabic, but through the stories she learned the language.

‘And the elephant went…’ I read.
‘Rumpeta, rumpeta, rumpeta,’ she recited.
‘All down the road with the…’
‘Ice-cream man…’

The Elephant and the Bad Baby had arrived in the most recent parcel and she already had half of it off by heart. She got me to read it over and over again, but now and then I had to read The Hungry Caterpillar or Mr Magnolia to keep me sane.

What a lovely picture this conjures up (as well as bringing back memories of similar dialogues with my own two). Married to a Bedouin is the story of Marguerite’s life from when she first visited Petra in Jordon and fell in love with a Bedouin souvenir-seller – I simply couldn’t put it down.

“My grandmother saw
the emperor cry
the day he lost
his golden dragon throne.”

So begins The Lotus Seed by Sherry Garland and illustrated by Tatsuro Kiuchi, a beautifully crafted story set in Vietnam and the U.S. The lotus seed of the title belongs right at its heart, both as a souvenir and talisman, and as a link across generations.

When she saw the emperor cry, the narrator’s Bà (grandmother) picked a lotus seed to remember him by, and from then on it became her most treasured possession, carried in her pocket for luck when she got married, and later, when war in Vietnam meant she had to flee, brought with her to America to take up its customary place under the family altar. So when “Last summer/ my little brother” took the seed and planted it in the garden, Bà was understandably devastated – but then in the spring an amazing thing happens. A beautiful lotus flower grows in the mud, providing a concrete connection for the children with their heritage. Bà once again has a lotus seed, and so do her grandchildren. And following in her grandmother’s footsteps, our young narrator wraps hers in silk and hides it away – with the intention of planting it for her own children…

The narrative is simple and poetic, which emphasises the feeling of the cyclical passing of years. It also allows the horrors of the story to come through without being overly traumatic for young listeners. Tatsuri Kiuchi’s beautiful illustrations are particularly powerful here, showing grandmother as a young woman fleeing her village pulling her son behind her; and then as one of many passengers on a boat leaving Vietnam, only distinguishable because of her hand across her chest holding tightly onto the lotus seed.

The Lotus Seed is a moving story that is (more…)