THE VIRGINIAN-PILOT
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: Sunday, December 17, 1995 TAG: 9512150681
SECTION: COMMENTARY PAGE: J3 EDITION: FINAL
SOURCE: BILL RUEHLMANN
LENGTH: Medium: 80 lines
It's never too late for great book gifts, even if you can't get them in time for Hanukkah or Christmas - so here are three all-seasonal mindstretchers for youngsters and the adults who read to them:
The Bookstore Mouse by Peggy Christian, illustrated by Gary A. Lippincott (Harcourt Brace, 134 pp., $16).
Cervantes, the thinking kid's Mickey, resides behind the thick volumes of the reference section at an urban antiquarian bookshop. Over the course of an existence spent in close proximity to print, he has acquired a prodigious vocabulary. But the rapmaster rodent nearly finds himself at a loss for words when Milo, the bookstore cat, chases him into the pages of an ancient tome that takes him back in time.
From there Cervantes' life is an open book as he assists Sigfried, the ink-spilling scribe, in becoming a creditably sleepless knight. Together they pursue the dragon Censor through a pert and prickly wordplay-ground. Ultimately, mouse and man learn short, precise language can make a sword's point - and an argument's - sharper.
``A page of print,'' counsels the savvy Cervantes, ``is like a secret passage that leads you to worlds so far away, you cannot imagine them until the magic of reading carries you there.''
This is captivating material. It figures. Lippincott's pictures are biblio-affectionate, and Christian is a reading specialist who has taught English as a second language.
How mice of her.
The Secret Art of Dr. Seuss, with an introduction by Maurice Sendak (Random House, 95 pp., $30).
Theodor (``Dr. Seuss'') Geisel (1904-1991) is, alas, gone, but his wonderfully whimsical books survive him. Generations to come will go on being amused and bemused by dozens of classic titles such as Horton Hatches the Egg (1940), Bartholomew and the Oobleck (1949) and How the Grinch Stole Christmas (1957). Now another little bit of immortality has been accorded the jesting dreamer, with posthumous publication of colorful endeavors that Geisel ``did for himself.''
``He wondered, simply, how I could take his work so seriously,'' writes Sendak, himself no slouch in the wild-thing illustration department. ``What I took seriously was the sheer pleasure of it all while pondering how he came spiritually unscathed through life, pleasure principle intact and infant joy forever gratified. It is that infant joy that makes Ted's work so deliciously subversive, and the watercolors, oils and sculptures in this collection of his unpublished art only confirm his dedication to pleasing himself.''
Well, they're electric.
Geisel portrays the same wacko-fibrillary world we are accustomed to from Whoville, but with more detail and a wider range of color. These visions really defy description, but some of the titles should give you an idea: ``Antlered Animal Adoring Pink-Tufted Small Beast'' (1932); ``Self-Portrait of the Artist Worrying About His Next Book'' (1959); ``Alley Cat for a Very Long Alley'' (1964).
But you know what you're getting here. Seuss art is a market-tested commodity. The prints in this book are at once unique, beautiful and nuttier than almond bark.
Day in September by Yan Nascimbene (Harcourt Brace, 32 pp., $17).
This is the story of two stories - Raphael's and Estella's. He lives in Paris, she in California, at the edge of the Mojave Desert. Both are isolated, lonely children.
He: ``Raphael listens to the silence. The floor creaks. The wind rustles the leaves outside his window.''
She: ``The constant buzzing of flies does not taint the silence but rather belongs to it. It is the music of heat. Estella sits on the ground, her bare arms and feet covered with white dust.''
They reside apart in vibrant fantasy worlds that merge in a moment by happenstance at a ballpark. Simple story, simple book. But it is complexly affecting, and the brooding illustrations by the author have the quality of crisply perceived reverie.
Happy stuff for the holly days. ILLUSTRATION: Photo
Theodor ``Dr. Seuss'' Geisel did the illustrations in this
collection ``for himself.''
by CNB