Can a child understand Surrealism? Eric Carle thinks so.

Eric Carle is 86-years old, has published over 70 books, and claims his latest children's book, The Nonsense Book, will be his last. But the author and illustrator of such timeless classics such as The Very Hungry Caterpillar and The Grouchy Ladybug, and the illustrator of other books like Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See?, wants to teach children one final thing before he calls it a day: Surrealism.

Yes. The artistic form. Think: Salvador Dali, Max Ernst, Joan Miró.

Surrealism isn't terribly difficult to understand, although some adults struggle to grasp the concept. Children, maybe with broader imaginations, find Surrealism to be an art they can embrace though. As Carle tells the Wall Street Journal, "Children can handle this, and they laugh." One of the tenants of Surrealism is that it intends to split reality and dreams--in essence, a juxtaposition, usually on absurd levels.

Which explains why The Nonsense Book has illustrations of a child inside a kangaroo's pouch, a bird in a fish tank and a fish in a bird cage, and a rabbit magician pulling a child out of a hat.

Carle's love of art was born during his years living in Nazi Germany as a child and his formative years growing up, all while most art was being censored.

After moving back to the United States, and after pursuing his dream to be an illustrator, and after creating The Very Hungry Caterpillar, and after that book alone sold over 40 million copies, and after a lifetime of teaching children through dozens and dozens of adventures from the text and illustrations he created, and after becoming one of the handful of all-time greats--after all of that, things still inspire him to create.

So, will this really be Eric Carle's last book?

As his editor, Ann Beneduce told the Journal, "He will say his whole life’s work is finished," but that some time passes, her phone will ring, and "He’ll say 'I have an idea I’d like to run by you.' And, there’s the start of another book."

Let's hope that happens. Again and again and again...



Illustrations: Eric Carle, via WSJ

Banned Books Week: Someone needs to check into The Very Hungry Caterpillar and his subliminal messages.

It's Banned Books Week. The "week" suggests books aren't worth a whole month of attention. Which is saying something, because September is (really) among other things:

National Chicken Month
National Piano Month
Hug a Texas Chef Month
Mom & Apple Pie Month
National Biscuit Month
National Cholesterol Awareness Month (here's a tip: lay off the biscuits)

National Bourbon Heritage Month
National Honey Month
National Rice Month
National Potato Month
National Childhood Obesity Awareness Month (here's a tip: check your cholesterol, too)
National Mushroom Month
National Sewing Month
National Courtesy Month

Apparently September doesn't have the courtesy to offer Banned Books Week a whole month to itself though, which really throws into question how much awareness courtesy deserves at this point.

But what about banned books? You know, those books that are soiling our children's minds that we must protect them from? That's where the Huffington Post comes in with their 11 Most Surprising Banned Books. (Why 11? I don't know. But are you suggesting we ban them from doing more than 10?? Hmm?)

Some of the highlights from the Huffington Post:

1.) The Dictionary:

That's right--Webster has been trying to indoctrinate your child into a world of sexual lust. According to Huffington, the book was banned in January 2010 from a California elementary school because it included a definition of oral sex that "wasn't age appropriate," according to one official.

But if a child can't learn sex ed from a dictionary, where can he turn to? A thesaurus? An Encyclopedia Britannica? Grandma's stash of AARP Magazines?

3.) Sylvester and the Magic Pebble by William Steig:

The Illinois Police Association and eleven states tried to ban this children's book about talking animals because police are portrayed as pigs. Thank God cops are finally cracking down on the real criminals in our society--talking animals. I've always said that Wilbur the pig had the air of a criminal mastermind--Charlotte's death is on his hooves--so thankfully the police are finally catching onto this.

According to the product description on Amazon.com:

Imagine all the happiness and wealth you could achieve if you found a magic pebble that granted your every wish! Sylvester Duncan, an unassuming donkey who collects pebbles "of unusual shape and color," experiences just such a lucky find. But before he can make all his wishes come true, the young donkey unexpectedly encounters a mean-looking lion. Startled, Sylvester wishes he were a rock, but in mineral form he can no longer hold the pebble, and thus cannot wish himself back to his equine trappings. His parents, thinking he has disappeared, are at first frantic, then miserable, and then plunge into donkey ennui. Meanwhile, Sylvester is gravely depressed, but tries to get used to being a rock.

Did they just use "donkey ennui" in a sentence? The important news here is in the reviews by Amazon customers. Someone named Constance gives it a two star review, saying, "Donkeys with depression...is not my cup of tea."

Damn right. I couldn't get through an episode of Winnie the Pooh on the Disney Channel as a child without needing all sharp objects and shoelaces taken away from me. Will someone please just give Eeyore a pep talk?!

5.) Brown Bear, Brown Bear, What Do You See? by Bill Martin Jr. and Eric Carle:

If I've said it once, I've said it a thousand times--when are we going to finally wake up to the dangers of brown bears with fantastic eyesight?

According to Huffington, the book was banned in 2010 by the Texas Board of Education (those classy rapscallions!) because the author of the book shared a name with an obscure Marxist theorist, and no one checked to see if they were the same guy.

Indeed. We can never doubt the authenticity of someone's identity just because they share a similar name. To me, that means you're as good as guilty. Why, look at my name--Patrick. Am I saying I'm pretty much the same virtuous human being as St. Patrick? Well, there's a 50/50 shot the Texas Board of Education will say so, and who am I to disagree? I am pretty saintly after all.