Bertram and His Funny Animals.
By Paul T. Gilbert. Pictures by Minnie H. Rousseff. Pomegranate Kids. $24.95.
Cat Book. By B. Kliban.
Pomegranate Kids. $10.95.
The Great White Shark Scientist.
By Sy Montgomery. Photographs by Keith Ellenbogen. Houghton Mifflin Harcourt.
$18.99.
The first Bertram book by
Paul T. Gilbert (1876-1953) is long overdue for republication, and Pomegranate
Kids – which wisely touts its books as being for ages three to 103 – deserves
heaps of praise for bringing it back. Originally published in 1934, Bertram and His Funny Animals has as
much outlandish charm and gentle humor in the 21st century as it did
in the first half of the 20th. The concept is simple: young Bertram
always asks for animals to play with at home, but never anything as mundane as
a cat or dog – in this volume, for example, he wants (and gets) a hippopotamus,
dancing bear, giraffe named Rudolph, South American tapir, kangaroo, circus
elephant, ticklish rhinoceros, baboon, and “troublesome camel.” Yes, yes, this
is all politically incorrect, since every right-thinking bastion of political
correctness celebrates not having
bears that dance and elephants that perform in the circus; but anyone willing
to put aside all the PC nonsense will have a grand time with Bertram’s modest
adventures (those unwilling to compromise this week’s eternal principles can
hope soon to see a reprint of the second book in this series, Bertram and His Fabulous Animals). In
every story, Bertram’s mother – sometimes complicit, through misspeaking, in
agreeing to let Bertram get an animal, sometimes simply bemused by all that is
happening – puts up with the inconveniences and irritations of the animal until
she has had more than enough; then it generally falls to Bertram’s father,
usually upon his return from a business trip to Omaha, to straighten things
out. Part of the fun of these stories – and part of what makes them great for
kids – is that they all follow essentially the same formula, but present enough
variations on it so that children and adults alike will find them to be plenty
of fun. All the animals talk – to everyone, not just to Bertram – but they also
exhibit some real-animal behaviors. The hippopotamus, for example, complains
about the paltry amount of food Bertram brings him (although the poor boy eats
almost nothing for several days so he can feed the hippo) – and then it turns
out that what the hippo wanted all along was hay, not suburban-family food. The
tapir becomes a problem for Bertram because it is nocturnal and insists on roaming
at night and eating watermelons planted by Mrs. Cree, the next-door neighbor,
who then blames George Fish, another boy in the neighborhood – and when Bertram
tries to make amends, things only get stickier (largely with watermelon juice).
All the animals turn up right in Bertram’s neighborhood, although sometimes he
has to go looking for one – for example, Bertram learns that kangaroos live in
Van Diemen’s land (the old name for Tasmania), so he finds a neighbor named Mr.
Van Diemen and, sure enough, can buy a kangaroo from that gentleman for 47
cents (money later returned to Bertram when he brings the kangaroo back after
it causes havoc). There is something so good-humored about all the Bertram
adventures, so resolutely offbeat and so normal-seeming at the same time, that Bertram and His Funny Animals is a real
feast for readers – and for viewers, too, thanks to Minnie H. Rousseff’s lovely
full-color cartoon illustrations, done in attractive 1930s period style. Some
Bertram books are unlikely ever to reappear, such as With Bertram in Africa, whose racial stereotypes would offend
political correctness to a degree beyond acceptability in these “offend no one”
times. But having Bertram and His Funny
Animals back is wonderful, and hopefully the sequel from 1937, with fantasy
animals and more Rousseff illustrations, will also show up again.
More-recent animals, and
ones in which reality and fantasy blend to delightful effect, are the cats
created by B. Kliban (1935-1990), some of which can be seen in a wonderful
board book with rhyming text by Zoe Burke. Both readers familiar with Kliban’s
plump, big-eyed, sort-of-anthropomorphic cats and those encountering them for
the first time will find plenty of amusement here. “Sneaker Cat has bright red
feet,” says one page, on which a cross-eyed feline walks from left to right
while wearing four bright-red sneakers; “Ice Cream Cats love stuff that’s
sweet,” says the next page, showing two shirt-wearing cats happily licking ice
cream cones. Then there are the cat contrasts. On the left, “Tea Time Cat
enjoys a cup,” this cat having eyes closed in bliss and the tea cup having a
fish sticking out of it; on the right, “AerobiCat is bouncing up,” with a suitably
sweatband-attired cat using its spring-coiled tail to bounce about. Kliban
(whose first name was not “B.” but Bernard) had a great sense of fun and the
ability to make his cats look almost alike but not quite – a classic drawing
here shows seven of them, the largest on the left and the smallest on the
right, each leaning on the next one and each in a different color. Simple
enough for use with pre-readers and early readers, packed with enough fun for
adults (perhaps even ones above age
103), Kliban’s Cat Book is one of
those deceptively simple productions that readers will find themselves
returning to again and again, just for the fun of it.
Real real-world animals are much less fun, although learning about
them is enjoyable in a different way. Sy Montgomery’s The Great White Shark Scientist, one of the always excellent
“Scientists in the Field” books, follows shark researchers as they try “to
smash a whole year’s worth of study into just two months,” as one puts it,
because access to sharks is complicated by weather, migration patterns and
various circumstances beyond anyone’s control. Montgomery’s book is packed with
facts about sharks, such as his note that there are 500 shark species, of which
three (bull, tiger and great white) are responsible for two-thirds of shark
attacks on humans. Keith Ellenbogen’s first-rate photographs are coupled with
well-executed illustrations, notably one showing the parts of a great white
shark and explaining what each does. Some sharks, for example, can hear struggling
fish 820 feet away; one-quarter of a shark’s brain is devoted to smell; sharks
have distinctive patterns where their light and dark colors meet, making it
possible to identify individuals; and much more. As in all the books of this
series, everything shown and discussed is a work in progress: there is drudgery
aplenty in the hunt for sharks to investigate, but there is also high drama, as
in a photo sequence showing how to tag a tiger shark (hint: very carefully).
Montgomery is careful to pause periodically in his science narrative for some
fascinating facts. For example, in one year (1996), 13 Americans were injured
by sharks and 43,000 were injured by toilets; and the single species of humans
numbers about the same as the 500 species of sharks (seven billion). Montgomery
and Ellenbogen are careful not to try to humanize or “prettify” sharks, and
indeed the book shows quite clearly why these fish so capture humans’ imagination
and are so frightening: one photo of a swimming shark clearly shows its
overbite and huge number of teeth (sharks may have 300 teeth at any given time
and can produce 300,000 in their lives), as well as one of its very dark and
(to humans) baleful-looking eyes. Although the actual danger from sharks is
statistically small, it makes good sense to avoid attracting their attention,
and the book ends with some recommendations that are blithely delivered but
quite serious, such as: “Avoid areas where many fish are congregating and sea
birds are diving (don’t swim with the menu!).” An excellent blend of education
and flat-out fascinating information, The
Great White Shark Scientist will show young readers – and older ones, too –
why sharks are ecologically important, what is being done to learn more about
them, and why the likelihood that their numbers are decreasing significantly
may be of greater concern than any worries about “monsters from the deep”
attacking human beings. The motto of the “Scientists in the Field” series is
“Where Science Meets Adventure,” and this is one book in the sequence that fits
that description perfectly.
No comments:
Post a Comment