MARGINALIA:

On Hold at the Library

It snowed on Halloween. Not the kind that sticks, but enough to be a nuisance before driving to school. I didn't have an ice scraper, and, being me, I resorted to my plastic pastry scraper to get the job done. (Don't worry, Mom, I'll get the real thing soon!) The seasons are changing more quickly than I anticipated, and it's got me reaching for flannel pajamas and books that reflect the mood of such a time: a little darker than you'd like and a little more beautiful than you'd expect. 

 

This newsletter reflects on just that—the dark where it appears and the beauty pierces through it. (Gaby touched on this theme in her last newsletter, but I'll thank you to go along with me anyway.) Let's go find it, okay?

ON the BLOG:

A Little Post on a Big Announcement

 

From the post: 

 

"I'm going to be honest. Gaby and I love writing for this blog. We really do. But our favorite part of this project is actually getting out there and meeting the people who read with children. Teachers, administrators, parents, grandparents—we love fostering a deeper connection between the child, the adult, and the book.

 

Our latest endeavor will be our biggest challenge—and greatest honor!—yet."

 

 
Find Out Here!

ELSEWHERE on the INTERNET:

 

The 2019 New York Times/New York Public Library Best Illustrated Children’s Books list just appeared on the internet last Friday. The selected books are awarded solely on artistic achievement, bringing attention to the form of the picture book as a powerful medium for beauty. I was pleased to see a recently released favorite among these: Small in the City by Sydney Smith (Sidewalk Flowers; Town Is By The Sea). Smith is a treasure (and you may have noticed I mention him as often as I can...), and this book deserves all the praise it's already received. 

 

From panel member Jillian Tamaki: 

 

Sydney Smith knows that children are the ultimate observers. In “Small in the City,” he shows us how a young child navigates a city — it’s unmistakably Toronto — with deep knowledge of all its nooks and crannies. If we can find them and are lucky, there is shelter, kindness and hope. Smith renders an elegant urban winterscape precisely, yet with an astonishing looseness.

 
The NYT/NYPL Best Illustrated List

"What a pity every child couldn't learn to read under a willow tree..."

- Elizabeth George Speare, The Witch of Blackbird Pond

We Are Still Here:

A Miniature Book List

 

It's National Indigenous Peoples Month for the United States, and I unwittingly kicked off the month by watching the three-hour cinematic ordeal entitled Dances With Wolves. With or without Kevin Costner, it's also the month during which Indigenous People of North America are often misrepresented by the stories we tell, especially around Thanksgiving. For non-Native people, it's easy to slip into language like, "When Native Americans lived here..." which hints to children that Native people no longer exist. Though these nations are sadly now fewer and farther between, Native cultures endure, maintaining their distinctive traditions and beliefs. Per a 2018 report, however, only 1% of books published in the USA feature Indigenous or First Nations people. In a small but hopeful effort to feature Indigenous people, I put together a few of my favorite picture books that illustrate the stories—both historical and ongoing—of Native Americans. 

We Are Grateful: Otsaliheliga by Traci Sorell, illustrated by Frané Lessac

 

From the Horn Book:

 

“'Cherokee people say otsaliheliga to express gratitude. It is a reminder to celebrate our blessings and reflect on struggles — daily, throughout the year, and across the seasons.' An extended family engages with activities and traditions that express gratitude and carry on Cherokee history and culture, such as stomp dancing at the Great New Moon Ceremony, basket weaving, making corn-husk dolls, and playing stickball. The book underscores the importance of traditions and carrying on a Cherokee way of life while simultaneously incorporating modernity and challenging dated media images of Indigenous people."

Fry Bread: A Native American Family Story by Kevin Noble Maillard, illustrated by Juana Martinez-Neal

 

From an NPR report, "Food Brings Families Together in Fry Bread": 

 

"In Fry Bread: a Native American Family Story, Maillard and Caldecott honoree Juana Martinez-Neal tell the story of a modern Native family making fry bread - a fluffy, slightly crunchy and a little greasy bread commonly made in Indigenous communities. Through the story and the book's beautiful pictures, the two also capture the complexity of Native identity."

 

Listen to the full report HERE.

Greet the Dawn: The Lakota Way by S. D. Nelson

 

From a review by Debbie Reese of American Indians in Children's Literature:

 

"The beauty in Nelson's book is that he puts [Native people's] existence in the present day, but through his art, he conveys the fact that in our communities, we are in touch with our identity as Native people whose spiritualities—across our many nations—are unique, vibrant, and, like the air we breathe, all around us."

HOT off the SHELF

 

This week (yesterday!), the third and final installment of Neal Shusterman's Arc of a Scythe series was released. I snagged a five-dollar paperback of Scythe from the indie bookstore Tattered Cover in Denver, CO, last year, and I've been singing its praises, and the sequel's (Thunderhead), ever since. I also forced it into Gaby's hands, conniving to make this series a Cosmic favorite. I deeply admire the way that Shusterman faces questions of humanity and mortality head-on in a series for young adults, and, in doing so, honors their curiosity about the world and its future. While I'm sitting on hold at the library for it, snag yourself a copy or get it on Kindle, if you're into that kind of thing: 

Order THE TOLL

Ginkgo, ginkgone

 

I learned something new about leaves last week. The playground at my school is lined with ginkgo trees whose leaves had steadily been painting themselves gold as the weather got colder. As I mentioned, we had a little shock of snow on the last day of October. The frost was just enough to make every. single. leaf. collapse from these trees in one fell swoop. Apparently ginkgo trees shed their leaves like this annually, but it was still surprising to see how fast it all happened. We watched nearly every leaf flutter down in a matter of an hour! Thankfully, a stunning picture book called Autumn Leaves by Ken Robbins has been keeping our leafy conversations flowing, even though our classroom view is a little more barren. It also reminded me of a poem I loved from a picture book poetry anthology called Firefly July: A Year of Very Short Poems from Paul B. Janeczko. 

 

November Night

Adelaide Crapsey

 

Listen...

With faint dry sound,

Like steps of passing ghosts,

The leaves, frost crisp'd, break from the trees

And fall.

 

For good measure, the song that I haven't stopped playing since I heard it:

I managed to get in a good bit of outdoor time this past weekend when a dear friend came to visit. The goal was to catch a good view of the leaves before winter took a full grip on things... and I'd say we caught them just in time. Both the visit and the long walk were a balm for the soul.

 

 

Until next time: read good books and check how long the movie is before you press play. 

 

 

Yours,

Grace

 

 

Share on social

Share on FacebookShare on X (Twitter)

To Cosmic Bookshelf and Beyond  
This email was created with Wix.‌ Discover More