Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts
Showing posts with label reading. Show all posts

Friday, 19 June 2009

great reads... The Rain Puddle



The Rain Puddle, illustrated by Roger Duvoisin (Bodley Head 1965)

Where do I begin to tell you about this gorgeous book? The Rain Puddle has everything that the very best picture books should have...

Roger Duvoisin's illustrations are fabulous. I've looked at other books illustrated by him but they don't have that same mid-century style of line and flowing form and the stunning simplicity of composition. The middle picture (above) with the hen sitting in a sea of flat, mossy green is so beautiful I come back to it again and again, the depth of colour and that slight overlap in the printing are just wonderful. Every so often I'm tempted to take it out of the book and frame it for the children's bedroom wall but I can't bring myself to because the rest of the book is so good. It is well written and has a great little story, where typically for children's stories of that era, very little happens. The animals belive that a farmyard full of animals have fallen into a rain puddle but the illustrations show that really the animals are only seeing their own reflections.

The best picture books for pre-schoolers have this double ownership, the reader tells one story but the child can read more into the tale through the illustrations. There is also the pleasure of interesting words and sounds when you are reading out loud, The Rain Puddle is full of great animal sounds to make, "Awk, awk!" "Cut-a-cut!" "Gobble-obble-obble!"

The Rain Puddle is out of print now but if you can get hold of a second-hand copy then snap it up, I promise that you won't be disappointed. You can see more illustrations from The Rain Puddle at the Little Bird Flickrstream here...

x

Sunday, 1 February 2009

The Importance of a Cup of Tea

I've just finished this wonderful book... Excellent Women by Barbara Pym. And wanted to share this little extract...

" Perhaps there can be too much making cups of tea, I thought, as I watched Miss Statham filling the heavy teapot. We had all had our supper, or were supposed to have had it, and were met together to discuss the arrangements for the Christmas bazaar. Did we really need a cup of tea? I even said as much to Miss Statham and she looked at me with a hurt, almost angry look, 'Do we need tea?' she echoed. 'But Miss Lathbury...' She sounded puzzled and distressed and I began to realise that my question had struck at something deep and fundamental. It was the kind of question that starts a landslide in the mind.
I mumbled something about making a joke and that of course one needed tea always, at every hour of the day or night."

My next book Miss Pettigrew Lives For A Day by Winfred Watson