Showing posts with label Mike Blanc. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mike Blanc. Show all posts

Monday, February 10, 2014

A Tale of Two Mommies, by Vanita Oelschlager (illustrated by Mike Blanc)

A Tale of Two Mommies
Author: Vanita Oelschlager
Illustrator: Mike Blanc
Publisher: VanitaBooks
Publication Date: September 1, 2011
Source: NetGalley
View on Amazon



I LOVE these books! I previously read A Tale of Two Daddies with my daughter Magda and this one follows a similar format. A little kid with two moms (or in the previous book, two dads) is playing with his friends while they ask him questions about what it's like to have two moms. The questions are all about regular, every day kid stuff, like "Who do you go to when you want to fly a kite or when your toys are broken?" After both books, my daughter then played the same game with her own parents' roles. "Who do I go to when I want pancakes? Daddy!" "Who makes my birthday cake? Mommy!" Who helps me fly a kite? Both my parents!" And I think that's where the book really succeeds. The whole point is that every family is different, but we all have a lot of similarities too.


Friday, October 4, 2013

Porcupette Finds a Family: A Story of Adoption, by Vanita Oelschlager (illustrated by Mike Blanc)

Porcupette Finds a Family: A Story of Adoption
Author: Vanita Oelschlager
Illustrator: Mike Blanc
Publisher: VanitaBooks
Publication Date: October 1, 2010
Source: NetGalley
View on Amazon



Oh dear. If there is one trend in children's books that I found particularly vexing it's the awkward allegory. You know those books that pretend to be about a cute little animal but are really about some Very. Serious. Issue? They always think they're being so subtle, but they're not. The thing is, there are millions (literally millions) of excellent children's books by very good authors about cute little animals who talk and have adventures and are absolutely wonderful, and ALL of them are allegories. You know how I know? Because real animals don't talk and have adventures. Those aren't the ones I'm talking about. The ones I'm talking about are the ones in which the author (often a psychologist or a well-meaning educator, rather than a professional writer) wants to help children deal with An Important Issue or teach them A Valuable Lesson (capitalized because this is always the MOST important part of the book) and decides to do so with cute little animals because why not? Isn't that what children relate to? They won't even realize how much they're learning because the story is JUST SO MUCH FUN! Except it isn't. The books I'm talking about are so heavy-handed with their message and so sloppy with their writing that good storytelling is often abandoned and it's difficult to enjoy the story on its merits without feeling you're being lectured. I hate that there are so many examples of this.

In case you haven't guessed, I'm suggesting that Porcupette Finds a Family is such an example.

In the story, Porcupette, a baby porcupine, is left orphaned after her mother goes out for food one day and doesn't come back. She feels understandably distraught. She's still so young and needs a mother. Luckily she is adopted by a mother bear and treated as one of her cubs even though, of course, she is not. The description sounds heartwarming and, by all rights, it should have been. There are PLENTY of "animal adopted by another animal and feeling different and awkward but still loved" stories. There are even a few fantastic "porcupine feels bad about being so prickly and wonders if anyone will love him/her" books out there (if you haven't read Mr. Fine, Porcupine, do).

But where this one misses the mark is when Porcupette immediately starts questioning if her mother abandoned her because of something she had done wrong, if she was such an unlovable child that her mother left her on purpose. While this might indeed be something that foster children worry about (the book's obvious target audience) it makes a lot less sense coming from a porcupine. And it's kind of a downer. At several points in the book my three-year-old piped up with, "That's silly. Her mother didn't leave her. She's probably just dead!" Because OBVIOUSLY that is the most logical conclusion to a missing porcupine. Even my three-year-old knows that.

But Vanita Oelschlager isn't really telling a story about forest animals. She's telling a story about foster kids. The problem is that the allegory loses its power when it stops making sense as a good story. It has to work on both levels for it to work at all. And above all, good storytelling can not be abandoned.

I understand the power of literature in dealing with difficult situations, particularly in childhood. Believe me, I do. In my personal and professional life I have read thousands of children's books, and have had many occasions to rely on books specifically written about difficult situations. But the best ones must be, above all, good stories and well-written books. And that's especially true with the animal allegories. Because if Vanita Oelschlager wanted to write a book that dealt with the particulars of abandonment, foster care or adoption, she certainly could have done so using human characters talking about real situations. Instead she chose to write about porcupines. This suggests that the story holds up on its own, both as an animal story and as a story with a message. But this isn't Stellaluna or The Ugly Duckling or even Mr. Fine, Porcupine. Although her good intentions are obvious, this is not a book I would recommend.


Thursday, February 14, 2013

A Tale of Two Daddies, by Vanita Oelschlager (illustrated by Kristin Blackwood and Mike Blanc)


A Tale of Two Daddies
Author: Vanita Oelschlager
Illustrators: Kristin Blackwood and Mike Blanc
Publisher: VanitaBooks
Publication Date: May 1, 2010
This is a simple story about a little girl with two daddies: Daddy and Poppa. When a boy on the playground asks her what it's like having two dads, he wants to know things like "Who tucks you in at night? Which one helps with homework? Which one braids your hair?" The little girl happily explains which of her day-to-day activities are best performed by Daddy, Poppa or both (or, in the case of staying up late or helping her match her socks, neither). The little girl's life is happy, secure and, of course, completely normal. 

I particularly liked that the illustrations were very reminiscent of primers from the 1950's. Normally I'm not a fan of children's book illustrations that look too dated, but in this case I think it's good for the story. It references an idealistic vision of Americana with nuclear families and houses in the suburbs (both children look like they could have stepped right out of Family Circus or Dick and Jane) and subtly reinforces the message that families with same-sex parents fit in perfectly well with this ideal, thank-you very much. I also liked that it wasn't focusing on her not having a mommy, but on how great it was to have two parents who loved her and were each good at different things.