Where The Precious Things Are

Maurice Sendak died this week. Sigh.

You might not recognize his name, but I bet you dollars to doughnuts that you recognize his most beloved work. 

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Yep, he's the brilliant creator of Where The Wild Things Are, and other immensely creative and quirky books for children. And adults. 

When my daughters were small, I read this sweet, crazy, imaginative story many, many enjoyable times. Naughty Max and his wild-rumpusing friends hold a special place in my heart.

But when I was a little girl, I didn't know about Max and the Wild Things. Although she read me many, many other enjoyable books, my mother didn't take to Sednak's out-of-the-box style and so I never heard of this story.

That doesn't mean I never heard of Sednak. Quite the opposite. His lovely illustrations graced the pages of some of my favorite picture books, weaving themselves into my childish imagination and staying with me to this very day.

These books are about the adventures of a little bear named Little Bear. He lives in a proper little house in the woods, with a mommy and a daddy and a grandma and a grandpa. They dress in proper clothes, eat from proper dishes, and sleep in proper beds. But they are all bears. And Little Bear has lots of friends. But they are not bears. They are different animals, like squirrels and ducks and hens. Except for his dear friend, Lucy. She is a human girl. It's all very confusing, which to little-girl me, was a huge part of the charm. 

Besides the characters and the setting, the plots are playful and the dialogue is clever and sweet. 

But Sendak's pen-and-ink illustrations are the crowning glory. Technically, they are lovely. Check out the delicate shading and cross-hatching, the gentle nuances of expression, the curlicue borders, the simple colors that enhance but do not overcome the intricate details.  Beyond their skillful execution, the illustrations convey an old world charm that perfectly captures the whimsy of stories and invokes a timelessness that warms the heart.

Let me show you what I mean.

When I was in college, I bought hardcover copies of my three favorite titles. They have been read many, many times, and I still have them...and I still love them.

The story of Little Bear's Friend starts off with Little Bear high in the tree tops, looking down upon his familiar little world. Check out the adorable details in the scenes below him.

Now our attention turns to Little Bear himself. Look at that sweet little rascal tucked up in that tree, enjoying the breezes and playing with his friends, the squirrels.

Eventually, his gaze shifts to spy a little girl living down by the river in a tent with her family. What?? Migratory fishermen? The idea of living like gypsies freaked out a little homebody like myself, but with that cute little white tent strung up between the trees, Sendak made it look so appealing, I almost wanted to try it.

Little Bear and Emily bond over her broken doll, and become fast friends. But soon the time comes for Emily and her family to move on, and he invites her over for a farewell tea.

Look at that sweet pitcher and the rustic carved furniture. Sadly, all happiness is lost to Little Bear, whose heart is purely broken. To see that poor little head drooping down, with the downcast eyes and pitiful smile, put a lump in my childish throat every time.

Happily, dear Mother Bear knows just how to rescue his spirit. She teaches Little Bear to write letters to Emily and that makes him very happy. I love this scene of the Bear family gathered around the table, with Mother looking on as a careful coach, and Father, proud as punch, sitting at the far end of the table.

And if that isn't satisfying enough, look at this closing illustration. With her dear doll close by and a sweet smile on her face, Emily reads Little Bear's letter. I remember feeling such a sense of relief and comfort to know that the letter found its way to her. The story does not explain this final development in words, but Sendak's illustration gives me all the closure I need.

I completely appreciate the fact that these Little Bear illustrations carry none of the edginess and post-modern storytelling energy for which Wild Things, and other of Sendak's later works are known. The Little Bear books are kind of an irrelevant footnote to the accomplishments of his career.

But to me, these illustrations capture the charm and innocence of my childhood days, and I see myself in them. Thank you, Maurice Sendak, for drawing not just wild things, but precious things too.