COMIC BOOKS VS. ILLUSTRATED KIDS BOOKS

I've been busy today so I had to reprise an older article to stay on schedule. I hope nobody minds. I think you'll find the subject interesting:

Before I begin this piece I want to apologize for ripping into kids book illustrator Lane Smith so hard in a previous post. I deliberately chose his least-appealing book so it wasn't a fair appraisal. Sorry Lane! Maybe I can make up for it by illustrating this new piece with the best book my local library had (above) by another artist, Mark Teague. It's a pretty appealing book, I admit, but I have to criticize it to make a larger point.



The point I want to make is that books of this type are trying to compete with comic books and they can't. In a comic book the picture of the two kids above would have rated a single panel on a single page. In Teague's big, expensive picture book, the kind that only has a few pages, it gets an entire two-page spread. All that for a picture of two kids talking on a porch? That seems odd to me.

Kids picture books always give too much weight to minor events and too little to major events. There simply aren't enough pages to tell a good story correctly and the artist is burdened with the necessity of trying to make each page, no matter how trivial in content, an artistic masterpiece. Is that really what kids want?

  Any one of these Carl Barks comic book panels (above) might have been a full-page illustration in a Mark Teague book, but all that elaboration would have gotten in the way of the story. My experience with my own kids is that kids definitely want stories, but the expensive illustrated books aren't geared for that. They're geared to deliver a simple artistic impression. Kids want stories but the expensive picture books we give them deliver objects of art instead.


Mark Teague is a really talented guy but he's working in a medium...thin illustrated kids books...that doesn't tell stories very well. I bought a couple of Teague books for my kids when they were still young, and all these years later I still have them. They're almost in mint condition. The hardcover Cochran Barks collection, on the other hand, is falling apart from my kids frequent reading. What does that tell you about what kids like to read?

One last point: we all have favorite illustrated books that we actually did read often when we were kids. My admiration for those old illustrators knows no bound because they managed to entertain in such an uncongenial medium. I'm glad I had those books and the illustrators that created them deserve a lot of credit. Even so, it's my belief that really young kids would learn more and have more fun if the bulk of their illustrated reading favored cheap, well-done pulp comics rather than pricey illustrated books.

ANOTHER WALLY WOOD MASTERPIECE

Wally Wood fans might be familiar with this (above) puzzle Wood did in the late 50s. It illustrated a Mad Magazine article called "Mad Visits Corny Island." 

I have an original copy of the Mad that contained the article,but I never put the puzzle together, probably because I didn't want to cut up the magazine. I don't know why it didn't occur to me to Xerox the picture and cut up the copy, or to simply look it up on the net. Well, it occurred to me yesterday, so here it is...in both versions. 

That's (above) a detail from the cut-up xerox...

...and here's (above) the original artwork, which I found on the net. Nifty, eh?

MORE CRIME STORY BEGININGS

Here's a few more short story openings I've come across recently. I found a great graphic (above) to illustrate the first one. How do you like the sinister way the man in the crowd looks, the man who's looking over his shoulder a bit right of the middle?

Anyway, the story: an off duty police detective is in a football stadium watching a game when he spots a suspect (above) in a kidnapping case he's investigating. The rich parents paid the ransom and the child was promptly returned as agreed, but the suspect escaped and the money wasn't recovered.

The detective follows the man back to his apartment, cuffs him and, on an impulse...even though he's never done anything like this before...he demands half the ransom the 'napper took for the child. The kidnapper is appalled. The unfairness of it rankles him. After all, he did all the work so why should he get only half the pay? A fight ensues and the two roll around the floor, battling for the cop's gun.

There's more to it, but I'll leave it at that. It's an interesting story because the corrupt-only-once detective and the "wronged" kidnapper are both strangely ethical in their own way.

The next story (above) takes place on a lonely path near a lake. A man's boss believes he's having an affair with his wife. The employee is innocent and he's hoping to clarify that as they walk along a lake at night, but when he turns to talk to his boss...he isn't there.

After a futile search the man calls the police. They look and find nothing, then the wife shows up and claims the employee had threatened to drown her husband that very day. It's a frame-up! Is the boss still alive? Did the wife kill him? What's the employee to do?

The next story (above) is about a boys' summer camp in the 1950s. Every camp has at least one boy who doesn't quite fit in and who's ridiculed by the other boys. In this camp the adults made the mistake of giving the kid a .22 rifle for shooting practice. You can imagine what happens.

The kick in the story is that it's told from the timid boy's P.O.V., and he's not honest with himself. It's hard to know exactly what went down because the narrator isn't reliable.  The writer raises the question: could a murderer who really believes his own innocence ever be found guilty of a crime?  

Lastly, here's (above) a story about a sentimental crook and his beloved mother. The crook hires a hit man to bump off a pesky business partner, and the whole thing is discussed in front of the crook's mother. She doesn't seem to care, she's just concerned that the two men eat their chicken soup and bundle up when they go out. 

The story seems straightforward enough at first, then the mother is slowly revealed to be cagey and calculating, and maybe something worse. It's the kind of crime story O'Henry would write, if he wrote crime stories. 

  

THE LAND OF MAKE BELIEVE

I just discovered this large "Land of Make Believe" map (above) behind some paint cans in my garage. I bought it for my kids when they were young and then promptly lost it...and now here it is again! Maybe someone's still selling it. 

Here's (above) a darker, more serious version of the Make Believe map.  Jaro Hess drew it in 1930. 

I went on the net to find out more about the more about the Make Believe map and I discovered other fantasy maps that I didn't know existed. This one (above) seems to have come with a board game. Judging from the unflattering way black tribesmen are depicted I'd guess it's from the 1930s or 40s. 

Wow! Here's a European-made map (above) showing what appears to be an arab fantasy landscape. How do you like the Moon in the upper right corner?

That's all the fantasy maps I have but I'll throw in a realistic map of India (above) from 1805.

And here's (above) an early Chinese map painted on sandstone. The rest of the world showed no interest in landscape painting until fairly recent times, but the Chinese seem to have long regarded it as an art form.  

Above, a well-drawn map showing Britain's connection with far flung colonies.

Interesting, eh?

My LATEST TRIP TO DISNEYLAND 8/2/2015

Here's (above) my favorite destination at Disneyland: Tarzan's Treehouse. Everyone on the trip wanted to live up there.

It's a whole city in the sky. 

Lots of rope bridges, lots of leaves.

It's impossible to find a bad vantage point on this tree. The view is beautiful from every angle.

Even the structural elements (above) are interesting.

Here's the view from the very top. There's lush greenery everywhere. 

The walk back down is exciting beyond all expectation. The downward steps are steeper than the steps leading up, so the ground appears to rush toward you as you descend. You feel like you're in a controlled fall. There's a lot more verticals in the side tree trunks, too, and that heightens the effect.

Here's (above) the Royal Theatre in the part of the park I call "Princessneyland." We saw "Frozen" re-enacted here with live actors. 

Above, the actress who played the Princess. How do you like her costume? Boy, 18th Century Europeans really knew how to design. 

 

The vest design looks Polish. Poland was enormously influential in European folk art. 

Here's some awning covers from the outside of The Enchanted Tiki Room in
Adventureland.

Where can I buy that fabric?

In the Indiana Jones ride (above) there's a fenced off area showing Jones' office.

It kinda' makes you want to rethink your own workspace, doesn't it?

Is that a picture of John L. Sullivan on the wall?

Here's (above) the starting point of the Peter Pan ride. The ride begins with a glide over the London rooftops...

...and right into the open window of Wendy's bedroom. Well, actually it's an open wall. Gee, if only rooftops and rooms were really like that. Isn't there some way real-world architects could make that possible?

Here's (above) a window display from one of the shops on Main Street. It's a little too girly for my taste but, wait, there's more. The set is integrated with holographic pixie dust that transforms the characters. How do they do that?

Good old Disneyland! It never ceases to be inspiring!

MORE ABOUT TEEN ANGST

A couple of posts back I posted about my daughter's teenage angst. I haven't been able to get that out of my mind because it reminded me of a book of illustrations I found in the library a few years ago by Greg Hildebrandt, the well-known Tolkien illustrator. 

He said he painted a portrait of each of kids every three years of their childhood. I was shocked to see the pictures of his son Gregory. That's Gregory above at age...I'm guessing...nine or ten. He looks like an all American kid of his time, a cross between Tom Sawyer and the young Ray Bradbury.

A few years later, maybe at age 13 or 14 (I'm not sure) he painted his son again and look (above) how the picture turned out! Wow, what a difference! The teen Gregory looks full of self doubt and unfocused anger. Not only that but his face has morphed into something puffy and awkward...just like mine did at his age. Yikes! Just at the time of life when you're most concerned about your looks, nature deals you a bad hand.

Fortunately that look doesn't last long. Here he is as an adult and he looks fine again, even handsome. I'm sure he has no trouble getting women. The girls in the photo are his sisters.

Teenage years are full of depression and trauma and teens aren't generally fun to be around unless you're a teen yourself. In spite of that I sometimes think that if I were a full time teacher I'd still rather teach teens than anyone else. Maybe that's because teens are idealistic and philosophical and so am I, and I've discovered a couple of odd facts about teens that I've never seen in books.

The first fact is that teens don't snub all adults, just their parents. They're actually somewhat deferential to other adults they don't have a reason to dislike.

The second fact is that that teens are often listening in class when you don't think they're listening. They can be passing notes, watching videos on their laptops or even sleeping but if what you say interests them, they'll remember it...or at least be interested in hearing it again.

Okay, I'm sure the young Charles Manson was more difficult to handle than this, but this has been my experience with normal types.

HOW SHORT STORIES BEGIN

Here's the story I'm reading now. It starts with a vivid description of a lonely, dismal swamp on an overcast day. It's not the kind of place that attracts fisherman or tourists...the only thing it attracts are mosquitoes, dense clouds of them. A deputy drives by and sees a familiar face: Billy, an oddly quiet local boy who doesn't seem to mind the bugs.

That's all I've read so far but I'm amazed that the opening succeeds in being a grabber even though there's not a single original element in it. I guess some situations...the ramshackle mansion buffeted by a lightning storm, the frightened woman walking along a lonely street at night...are innately interesting and are not diminished by repetition. Interesting, eh?

Another story is about a night time driver in rural Louisiana who gets a flat tire and pulls over to the side of the road. He opens the trunk to get his spare tire and discovers...Gasp!...a woman's body. He has no idea who she is or how she got there.

Stranger still, her ID and papers identify her as his girlfriend who he's eloping with.  There's even a photo of the two of them together and that's his signature on the bottom...but how could that be? He's never seen her before.

If he calls the police they'll surely believe he murdered her. If he doesn't call and buries her instead, she'll be discovered and there's not a jury on Earth that would acquit him. What should he do?

The next story is about a suicide jumper in a big 1950s American city. A crowd forms on the opposite side of the street.

Police with a megaphone are unable to talk the guy down so they call his wife and ask her to come out. When that doesn't work somebody gets the idea of calling his mistress. After all, a man often won't listen to his wife, but his mistress...well, that's a different thing. Unfortunately the two women meet and there's only one megaphone.

Here's the last story: A young man breaks a pawnshop window and takes a fist full of diamonds. A passer-by sees the crime, chases the kid and captures him just as the police arrive. The problem is that the kid hasn't got the diamonds on him when he's caught, even though he was never out of the sight of witnesses. His captor doesn't have them either and they're not hidden anywhere. So, where did they go?

I'll give you a hint: broken glass looks the same as diamonds...only there's a lot more to the story than that.

Nifty, eh?

ONE OF MY FAVORITE MUSICAL NUMBERS

I'm so grateful to Tom Minton and John for introducing me to this song: It's "Thanks a Lot but no Thanks" from MGM's "It's always Fair Weather," sung by Dolores Gray. 

I'll put up a few snapshots and a small sample of the lyrics.

Dolores throws her arm up and a big, brassy orchestral blast kicks in.

There she goes, right into the De Chirico background as the curtains part. 

Her sidemen drop from the sky, somersault, and slide into scene...

DOLORES GRAY (ALTERNATES SONG AND SPEECH)

 ...until she's surrounded by them. They freeze in place...

...then they leap to their feet and do a manic scramble exit.

Three rush back and strike a cool pose. They're hoping she'll dump her old boyfriend and go out with them.

On the line "Thanks a lot but but no thanks" Dolores banishes the men with a flick of her arm.

Three new sidemen rush in and strike immensely cool poses. I'll dispense with the lyrics so I can concentrate on the visuals.

These guys make a great counterpoint to what's going on in the song. Seeing this reminds me of my promise to myself that if I become rich I'll have a have a troop of chorus girls  follow me around all day, ready to back me up with choreography in case I decide to sing or emphasize a point.

The men do some great moves then Dolores banishes them again with another "Thanks a lot but no Thanks!"

Now (above) some of the sidemen waddle walk back in. Dolores sings about the man she loves.

Some great moves by the side men, then she dismisses them too.

Actually, she shoots them. Bam! Bam! Bam! Bam!

It doesn't do her any good because a whole bunch of new sidemen strut in from behind camera. 

They try to impress Dolores...

...but it's no deal...she's not buying it. She's loyal to the man she loves, who's "like Marlon Brando and Clifton Webb combiiiiined."

She banishes them. too.

Undeterred, new sidemen appear from trapdoors and offer Dolores expensive jewelry.

Nope! She's not interested. Her man has what it takes to top that.

Dynamite! Just the thing to get rid of those pests!

Haw!

In desperation the horny sidemen make one last appeal, en masse. It's no use. She pulls a lever and the men are banished to the Netherworld.

'Thanks a lot but no thanks!"

Then the big finish: "No...NO...THAAAANKS!!!!!" 

Good stuff, eh?