Daily Fig - Page 9 of 12 - Fruitful finds for young minds

Exploring the Delicate Relationship Between Nature and Civilization in Jan Brett’s Mossy

By Daily Fig Staff

A tender reminder that wild creatures are happiest in the absolute freedom of their native homes.

“In wildness is the preservation of the world,” Henry David Thoreau told the citizens of Concord during one of his lectures in 1851. “The most alive is the wildest.” And yet most civilizations inevitably find themselves at odds with nature, a fact that author and illustrator Jan Brett explores in Mossy (public library), a touching children’s book about a turtle named Mossy who is plucked from her native habitat and put on display in a museum. Mossy changes the lives of those who view her, but captivity temporarily changes Mossy’s life for the worse.

Like many of Brett’s other books, Mossy is full of beautiful, detailed illustrations of the natural wonders present in the Northeastern United States. But it’s the story that packs the real punch by touching on controversial animal welfare issues. Predicated on the radical notion that animals are thinking and feeling beings who have needs of their own, the story suggests that humans should refrain from keeping wild animals in captivity for observation. The thought-provoking subject matter is sure to raise questions.

It all starts with Mossy, an eastern box turtle who looks like most other turtles, except for one notable difference: she has a garden full of flowers growing on her shell.

On a misty, moisty morning, a young turtle stood at the edge of Lilypad Pond. Her name was Mossy. Mossy liked this damp, cool place. She spent so much time here that curlicues of moss began to grow on her carapace, until her shell was covered with them. As the spring days got warmer, tiny ferns unfurled and wildflowers began to blossom. Soon Mossy’s shell was home to an amazing garden.

Dr. Carolina and her niece Tory discover Mossy one morning while they’re out on a walk. Dr. Carolina decides that Mossy would be a perfect addition to her museum. In the museum, they “made a home for Mossy in a viewing pavilion with plants, a reflecting pool and everything they thought a turtle would need.” From then on, Mossy calls the viewing pavilion in the museum home.

Mossy is a popular attraction at the museum, but she’s not happy there. She misses Lilypad Pond and her turtle friend Scoot.

Mossy was lonely for Scoot. She had stopped looking at her garden in the reflecting pool because it made her remember those ruby-red eyes, shining like jewels, peering at her from Lilypad Pond. Thoughts of Scoot only made her sad.

Tory notices that Mossy seems despondent. Things come to a head when Tory asks her aunt whether Mossy is happy in the museum.

Tory frowned. She loved the museum. She had helped her aunt collect wonderful things on their walks. But Mossy was the first living creature that Dr. Carolina had taken to live in the museum. Is that why she looks so sad? Tory wondered.

‘Do you think Mossy is happy here?’ Tory asked her aunt.

‘Does she have any turtle friends?’ the children asked.

‘No, but here we all have the opportunity to see her.’ Dr. Carolina paused. The children had given her an idea.

Dr. Carolina decides to take Mossy back to Lilypad Pond, but not before inviting a pair of artists to create a beautiful painting of Mossy for the museum. The artwork of Mossy and her beautiful garden remain on display for all museum visitors. Back at Lilypad Pond, Mossy and Scoot reunite and (ahem) start a family together.

On the book jacket, Brett shares how she came up with the idea for Mossy.

One summer morning, my husband, Joe, and I were dangling our feet from our dock on Goose Lake. I was watching some waterweeds on the bottom, thinking they looked just like a giant turtle. Suddenly, they swam up towards us. It was a turtle, a huge snapping one, with an underwater ‘garden’ on its shell.

That experience gave me the inspiration for Mossy. I chose an eastern box turtle because I wanted my turtle to live on land and grow a gorgeous garden on her carapace. I named her friend Scoot because a turtle’s shell is made up of plates called ‘scutes,’ pronounced the same way.

Joe and I thought it would be wonderful to have our own turtle pond. So we built one with rocks for sunning, caves to hide in from predators like raccoons, and water deep enough for hibernating during winter.

It has taken time, but finally turtles have found their way to our pond and moved in, joining the first resident, a huge, noisy bullfrog.

For readers interested in coloring, Brett has generously created a coloring sheet (also in PDF format) of Lilypad Pond. Brett also has an incredible twenty minute video that provides detailed instructions on how to draw an eastern box turtle.

Mossy is an endearing children’s book about love, loyalty, and home. But it’s the story’s underlying implications about nature and our relationship with it that are truly enduring. As civilizations continue to encroach on nature, the story’s message — that wild creatures are happiest in the absolute freedom of their native homes — will become ever more relevant and challenging. Complement it with The Giant Jam Sandwich, a delightful story about an epic battle between humans and wasps.

The Inspiring Autobiographical Story of Trombone Shorty: How a Homegrown New Orleans Musician Blazed His Own Trail

By Daily Fig Staff

“I’m living proof that as long as you work hard, you can make your dreams take flight.”

“People of color have a constant frustration of not being represented, or being misrepresented, and these images go around the world,” the great film director Spike Lee told an interviewer when asked how Hollywood portrays African Americans in movies. What’s true on celluloid is also true in children’s literature. Fourteen percent of Americans identified as black on the 2010 US Census, but a report shows that African Americans author only three percent of children’s books, and that only five percent of children’s books are about African American children. In short, children’s books are still predominantly white.

Trombone Shorty (public library) breaks the mold in spectacular fashion. This award-winning book is an autobiographical portrait of author Troy “Trombone Shorty” Andrews’ life as a child growing up in the New Orleans neighborhood of Tremé. Surrounded by music and musicians, but poor and with no real instruments of their own, Troy and his friends form a band and start playing instruments they make themselves. That is, until the hero of the story finds a broken trombone.

Then one day I found a broken trombone that looked too beaten up to make music anymore. It didn’t sound perfect, but finally with a real instrument in my hand, I was ready to play. The next time the parade went by my house, I grabbed that trombone and headed out into the street. My brother James noticed me playing along and smiled proudly. “Trombone Shorty!” he called out, because the instrument was twice my size!

Illustrator Bryan Collier filled the book with artwork that’s tough and uncompromising. The eye-popping combination of pen, watercolor, and collage is both realistic and a little startling. Taken collectively, the story and the artwork really capture the unique feel of New Orleans and its jazz music.

Trombone Shorty practices his trombone until he’s mastered the instrument.

From that day on, everyone called me Trombone Shorty! I took that trombone everywhere I went and never stopped playing. I was so small that sometimes I fell right over to the ground because it was so heavy. But I always got back up, and I learned to hold it up high.

In the author’s note at the end of the book, he says that “the only reason I succeeded as a musician was because I practiced every day.” Readers learn that the grown-up Trombone Shorty has played music for President Barack Obama at the White House and performed with artists like Lenny Kravitz, U2, Green Day, Eric Clapton, and B.B. King.

One of the most exciting parts of the story is when Trombone Shorty gets invited onstage to play with the great musician Bo Diddley.

One day my mom surprised me with tickets to the New Orleans Jazz & Heritage Festival, the best and biggest music festival in town. We went to see Bo Diddley, who my mom said was one of the most important musicians of all time. As I watched him onstage, I raised my trombone to my lips and started to play along. He stopped his band in the middle of the song and asked the crowd, ‘Who’s that playing out there?’

Everyone started pointing, but Bo Diddley couldn’t see me because I was the smallest one in the place! So my mom held me up in the air and said, ‘That’s my son, Trombone Shorty!’

‘Well, Trombone Shorty, come on up here!’ Bo Diddley said.

In real life, Trombone Shorty is now a famous musician who regularly tours with his band Orleans Avenue, but he’s never forgotten his roots. In the author’s note at the end of the book, he explains why he shared his story.

While I’ve been fortunate enough to travel the world and share my music, I always return home to New Orleans. Nothing has been more inspiring to me than working with the children there. I wanted to write this book to try to inspire hope in kids who might be growing up under difficult circumstances but who also have a dream, just like I did. I’m living proof that as long as you work hard, you can make your dreams take flight.

With the help of Tulane University, the author created the Trombone Shorty Foundation to help other children in New Orleans discover music. Please join us in making a donation.

Photo of Trombone Shorty when he was a child — Trombone Shorty parading through the New Orleans neighborhood of Tremé

Trombone Shorty won the Coretta Scott King Award and was named a Caldecott Honor Book. The book won’t revolutionize the white world of children’s literature all by itself, but it’s a step in the right direction. As author and illustrator Christopher Myers wrote in an essay, books like Trombone Shorty can change the world’s perception of African Americans.

The plethora of threatening images of young black people has real-life effects. But if people can see us as young dreamers, boys with hopes and doubts and playfulness … perhaps they will feel less inclined to kill us.

The beauty of Trombone Shorty is that it stands on its own merits. Forget the color of the author’s skin — the story is as incredible as it is inspiring. Heroes are heroes no matter what they look like. This is a wonderful book to share with kids interested in music and instruments. Complement it with Last Stop on Market Street, another book that prominently features children of color.

The Giant Jam Sandwich: An Epic Battle Between Man and Insect

By Daily Fig Staff

“What do wasps like best to eat? Strawberry jam! Now wait a minute! If we made a giant sandwich we could trap them in it!”

Move over, Monsanto. There’s a new bug killer in town, and it comes in the form of a massive jam sandwich. That’s the premise of The Giant Jam Sandwich (public library), a hilarious children’s book that chronicles an epic battle between man and insect with a larger-than-life solution. This one-of-a-kind story by author and illustrator John Vernon Lord captures the imagination of children and adults alike, and the quirky illustrations are quite unlike anything in modern children’s literature.

The story — which will sound familiar to anyone who has been bothered by wasps during a picnic — starts one hot summer day in the town of Itching Down when “four million wasps flew into town.” The town’s citizens, unnerved by the rapid infestation, start looking for a way to get rid of the wasps.

They called a meeting in the village hall, and Mayor Muddlenut asked them all, “What can we do?” And they said, “Good question!” But nobody had a good suggestion.

Then Bap the Baker leaped to his feet and cried, “What do wasps like best to eat? Strawberry jam! Now wait a minute! If we made a giant sandwich we could trap them in it!”

The gentlemen cheered, the ladies squealed, and Farmer Seed said, “Use my field.”

The villagers mix the ingredients for the bread and then bake the giant loaf in an abandoned warehouse. They use buses and horses to transport the enormous steaming loaf of bread to Farmer Seed’s field where they spread butter and jam on one slice.

Helicopters lift the other slice into the sky and wait for the wasps to land on the jam. When the wasps finally fly in, the helicopters drop the slice and trap the wasps in the sandwich. The story ends with nearly all of the wasps squished in the giant jam sandwich.

Meanwhile, high above the field, six flying machines whirred and wheeled, ready for the wasps to take the bait. And then there was nothing to do but wait.

Suddenly the sky was humming! All four million wasps were coming! They smelled that jam, they dived and struck! And they ate so much that they all got stuck.

The other slice came down — kersplat! — on top of the wasps, and that was that. There were only three that got away, and where they are now I cannot say.

Where did the outlandish idea for this extraordinary story come from? The author explained in an interview that he came up with it while on a picnic with his family and friends.

That book started off on holiday in Devon when we had three young girls, and we went with another family with young boys. We were having a picnic and both of the boys got hysterical because a wasp was hopping about. I quickly tried to calm them down, and off the top of my head invented the giant jam sandwich story, which quelled their anxiety. When I went home I thought that might be a book worth doing.

The jam sandwich bit was a notion that when I was young, my dad, if we ever had a picnic, always used to put some strawberry jam away from the picnic to attract wasps from where we were settled. A lot of ideas are anecdotes from your own life; you can exploit them and bring them into fantasy.

Many readers will be intrigued by the unique artwork in this book. The author, a university professor who taught the art of illustration for 45 years, has an interesting take on illustration as an art form.

Illustration does not yearn for the high cultural plane. It is a modest activity and it is not esoteric, nor is it a mere dumbing-down of art; it has its own distinct purpose. Fine art is allowed to be obscure and bewildering, but illustration is not; its purpose is to enlighten. It is art, but it’s an accessible art. In a nutshell, illustration is the art of the people.

The Giant Jam Sandwich was originally published in 1972. The fact that it’s still in print after all these years is a testament to its gentle poetic charm and its ability to capture the imaginations of children everywhere. This outlandishly creative story will keep readers coming back again and again. Complement it with Mr. Meebles, a delightful children’s book about an imaginary friend who doesn’t want to be forgotten.