Pros: Great story and a picture of Max chasing a dog with a fork.
Cons: Surely you can't be serious?
The Bottom Line: Every mother's child should have a copy of this. Every mother should read it to that child as often as possible, because all Wild Things grow up too soon.
hadassahchana's Full Review: Maurice Sendak - Where the Wild Things Are
When #4 was very small, he was allowed to stay up longer than his older brothers. That was because he refused to go to bed and wouldn't stay if he were placed there, even if threatened. So, he got an extra half-hour added to his day. This was enough time to play a few rounds of "Put that down!", "Stay out of that!" and his favourite,"Stop poking the cat!". When he sensed I was nearing my breaking point, he would yawn, bring me his pajamas and a bedtime story. And for the better part of a year, chances are he'd bring Maurice Sendak's Where The Wild Things Are. Bet you can't figure out why.
After hopping up on my lap and smiling his most charming smile, he'd say,"Read to me 'bout the wild boy, mama." And I would, wondering if that other little literary wild boy smelled so sweet and felt as warm to his own long-suffering mother. As soon as I would say,"The night Max wore his wolf suit..." #4 would yell, "You know that is NOT HOW IT STARTS!". So I would begin again, "Where The Wild Things Are, story and pictures by Maurice Sendak." Having begun at the beginning, #4 forgave me and we fell into the wonderful rhythm of Sendak's words.
The story of Max having yet another bad day and being banished to his room is one which all children can relate to. After all, it contains a how-to guide to bugging one's parents, an innocent man unjustly accused and punished, and a chance to be a dictator in a brother - and parent-free zone. What small person has never wanted to be in charge? Sendak obviously knew children really well, because in addition to the wonderful story, there are plenty of opportunities to growl just like the monsters Max rules.
"That very night in Max's room a forest grew
and grew-
and grew..."
"Which is what happens to little boys who never clean their rooms,"I would say.
"Nuh-uh," #4 would say in that exasperated voice which comes with an eye-roll at no extra charge.
We would carry on, arriving with Max on that distant and frightening shore. As I read, #4 would become more and more tense, swinging his little legs, gasping with glee until -
"They ROARED their terrible roars and gnashed their terrible teeth -chomp chomp chomp - and rolled their terrible eyes and showed their terrible claws!" as he stomped around the living room. If the cats were still present up till then, they scattered in all directions as #4 approached, showing his terrible claws.
After my very own Max finally calmed enough to sit still again, we continued. By the time Max became lonely and wanted to be where someone loved him best of all, #4 was becoming drowsy. When I got to the part where I got to roar my terrible roar, he would whisper,"Shhh! The wild things are getting very, very tired". He did manage to have one last fling when Max sailed away, in and out of weeks-
"In and out of his underpants!" #4 would yell, giggling loudly.
"You can't say that!" I would point out.
"Why not?" he'd ask, grinning madly.
"Because," I'd answer.
It was always a relief when Max found his supper still warm. I was relieved because that always meant that bedtime was finally in sight. #4 was relieved for a different reason.
"Max's mother left his nice hot supper in his room?"
"That's right".
"Because she loved him best of all, right?"
"Yes, best of all".
"Even when he was wild, and when he roared, and when he teased the dog?"
"Even then."
"Oh. That's ok, then. Is it time for bed?"
"Very much so."
"Ok, then, goodnight".
When I bought my books for the Fight Illiteracy write off, this was the first one I chose. Partly because of the clever story and cute illustrations, partly because of the way the words just roll off the page when reading aloud, and partly because every child is sometimes a Wild Thing. And every mother has loved such a Wild Thing. And because I still like the book, and so does each of my boys.
"But, it's really a book for babies, mama. Don't tell everyone that I still like it, ok? They will laugh at me" #4 whispered last night in his most terrible whisper, trying to keep his older and very much cooler brothers from hearing. So, it'll be our secret, ok?
This review is part of the Fight Illiteracy write off in which Epinions members have proven themselves to be the kindest and most generous group of writers on the internet. All books collected for this write off will be given to the literacy program run by the Mississippi Council for the Humanities. With programs running in more than ten sites statewide, there are plenty of Wild Things who will receive a new book provided by an Epinions member, and that makes me love all of you best of all.
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