Knuckleheads

by Joan Holub
illustrated by Michael Slack
Chronicle Books 2008

Oh, I get it. The character's heads are all made from hands. Knuckleheads.

No, wait. I don't get it. Aside from all the obvious punning around -- Thumbelina is really a thumb. Handerella in love with the handsome Finger Prints -- why do this? Remove the gags and what you are left with is a second-rate attempt at retelling fairy tales the way Jon Scieszka did over a decade ago with The Stinky Cheese Man. Hold up, let me look at this again.

Nope, didn't work for me a second time. Or a third.

I think the problem is that it's trying too hard to be clever when it should be focusing that attention on making all that cleverness entertaining. If you want to use puns and wordplay to tell a story you can't neglect the fact that you still have a story to tell. Merely hanging verbal gymnastics on truly tired fairy tales isn't enough(and, really, at this point kids probably know more about classic fairy tales then have actually read the originals), you need to apply that same creativity to the stories themselves.

The reason The Stinky Cheese Man works is because it is a reinvention of the story. You could make an entire collection of fairy tale updates using pigs and call it "The Gingerbread Ham and Other Curly Tails" and it might appear clever (Huh, I just made that up! That was easy! I should write a children's book!) but if it's just the original story in a pig suit, well, what's the point? You see what I'm saying?

Yes, Knuckleheads is chock full of cleverness, probably more cleverness per page than any number of books out there right now. It just doesn't entertain as a collection of stories. If this had been a collection of illustrated puns that were thematically linked I wouldn't have any qualms. It's the unnecessary layer of fairy tales forced to lend some legitimacy to the proceedings that doesn't work.

Listen, kids don't always need a story. Sometimes they like jokes and wordplay for their own sake. When they go to the park and play they don't always need rules, or have to have elaborate equipment to have fun. Sometimes they play for the sake of playing. What's wrong with that in picture books every now and then?

Knucklehead

Tall Tales & Mostly True Stories About Growing Up Scieszka
by Jon Scieszka
Viking 2008

I totally dig that Jon Scieszka had the kind of wigged-out childhood that makes for good kid biographies, but I would hate to see the report some kid would write using this as their source material. Or maybe I wouldn't hate it. Maybe it's what some poor unsuspecting teacher deserves.

In 38 brief and amusing chapters the author of The Stinky Cheese Man and our current National Ambassador of Young People's Literature by the Library of Congress digs up the kind of family dirt that most people try to hide. From pee fights, to fundraising in order to name starving pagan babies in Africa, to threatening to have younger brothers hauled away for misbehaving -- this book is chock-full of all the things that naturally occur in a household of five boys.

This book hardly needs any recommendation. Boys who know the name Scieszka will pick it up and know what to expect. Mostly. If they haven't done similar things recounted in this book they probably thought them. And if they never thought them, then this book will inspire them. Word of mouth will ensure that boys pass this along and read these impossible to forget stories.

Reading, getting boys to read. A steady of diet of this stuff would kill anyone, but boys deserve a treat everyone once in a while. Oh, and for the adult boys out there who might have forgotten what it was like to be 8 or 10 or 12 years old, I'm sure there are a few memories kindled by these accounts.

As for these stories being either tall tales or "mostly true" all I can say is, having once been a boy, a disclaimer like that was probably some editor's idea. I can't imagine any true boy denying any of this as anything but the whole truth.

Cowboy & Octopus

by Jon Scieszka
illustrated by Lane Smith
Viking 2007

Cowboy and Octopus are friends. Cowboy is a paper doll cut from a book. His clothing tabs occasionally show. Octopus was cut from a comic book. His bold colors and zip-a-tone dots give him a party dress appearance.

"Do you like our book?" asks Cowboy.
"Do you like our book?" asks Octopus.
"Yes, I do. I like it very much," I say.
"Do you think kids will understand the stories?" asks Octopus.
"Sure," I say, " They have that same irreverent humor of George and Martha books, but with some unexpected twists."
"What's a Martha," wonders Octopus.
"Twists?" drawls Cowboy, "What do you mean when you say twists?'
"Well, Cowboy, while Octopus can be a very understanding friend -- eating your seven course meal of beans without complaining the way George eats Martha's pea soup without telling her he didn't like it -- you are much more blunt about things."
"What's a George?" asks Octopus.
"For example," I continue, "When you asked about each others fancy hats, Cowboy, you flat out told your friend that you didn't like Octopus's hat. I believe you compared it to a cow pie."
"Yeah, and he hit me over the head with a hammer!"
"True," I say, "But that was different. That came from a misunderstanding."
"But I said that being a friend meant being honest with one another," says Cowboy. "Should I have lied?"
"You asked me about the twists. That's what I was talking about. I didn't expect you to be so... coarse."
"Horse? You didn't expect me to be a horse?"
"Not horse, course. Rough around the edges."
"That's not my fault I'm rough, I was just cut out that way."
"Me too," says Octopus.
"But you still liked it, our book?" wonders Cowboy.
"Yes."
"You didn't say anything about my scary costume?" whines Octopus.
"We have to save something for people to be surprised about," I say.
"Yeah," says Cowboy, "I still have nightmares about that."
"I trust we'll be seeing more of you boys down the road?"
"Maybe," says Cowboy.
"Maybe," says Octopus.