by Chris Van Allsburg
ISBN: 9780547548104

I loved the idea of this book: the enigmatic Burdick tantalizes publisher with excerpts from illustrated stories, then vanishes. Different authors step forward to write the stories that match the images and snippets of text.

The authors include some major names inside (Kate DiCamillo, Louis Sachar, Lemony Snickett) and outside (Gregory Maguire, Sherman Alexie, Stephen King) the world of children’s literature. Allburg, of course, has provided all the illustrations and these are the most consistently high quality parts of the book.

As with most collections, the stories are a bit uneven. Not only are some more engaging that others, but they don’t seem to be aimed at a consistent age group. Not necessarily a problem, but something to be wary of — some stories may be too creepy (or too boring) for younger readers. I liked M.T. Anderson’s “Just Desert” the best, and would definitely put this in the creepy category.

I borrowed this book from a library. Given space constraints at home, we’ve reached the “book goes in, book goes out” stage. On that scale, I’d rate this as a borrow but not a keeper.

It’s true you shouldn’t judge a book by its cover, but it is also true that the cover is why I bought this one. More precisely, I noticed the book and got interested because Oliver Jeffers did some illustration for it, and I love him.

Turns out it wasn’t just the cover that was interesting. It’s a story about an eight year old boy who runs away. It reads a bit like a fairy tale (there’s a talking dog, and things seem magical, but it all makes perfect story sense) but doesn’t have a simplistic happily every after ending. I’m not saying it’s all doom and misery, either — it isn’t — it’s sad and not-sad and has a clever little bit at the end that will seem like more a twist to younger readers, but works for older readers, too.

I suppose I should mention that this book’s intended audience is kids. Chapter book reading kids who can keep going for two hundred pages, which, as the Harry Potter phenomenon demonstrated, is actually a remarkable number of the under-thirteen as well as over-thirty set.

I enjoy Lane Smith’s illustrations (he illustrated The Very Persistent Gappers of Frip, among others). His images have interesting textures, without seeming overwrought. For this book they are quite pared down, in a simple but still comfortable and not stark way.

The real message in this cute and clever story is that books are awesome. Even though you don’t need a screen name or password to use them. Even though they don’t tweet or text. Even though you can’t make the characters fight.

It’s an illustrated children’s book — an older monkey introduces a younger jackass to the concept of “book” with a little help from his (actual, not peripheral) mouse. As with many wonderful children’s books, the audience shouldn’t be limited to kids. A book person of any age, especially a geeky one, will enjoy it. It’s funny.

Apparently it is catching some flack for the very last line, which [no real need for a spoiler alert here, don't worry] is: “It’s a book, Jackass.” Some people feel jackass (even when you are talking about an actual animal) is inappropriate for kids. Yes, Smith also means jackass in the not referencing the animal sense. So if you are terribly concerned that under-10s will learn the word jackass or the concept of word play from a book, I suppose you should keep this away from them.

I think that is ridiculous, and the people carrying on about it are being, well, jackasses.

The form factor and presentation say a children’s book (and the Library of Congress says “juvenile literature”) but this has a creepy vibe to it that is a bit at odds with that expectation. I think that is a good thing; the tilted, not quite right nature of the story and images worked for me. To be fair, they’d probably work for the right kind of kid, too.

Good children’s books aren’t just cutesy. They are disarming, so can reach deep and touch grownups who are open-minded enough to read them (think Shaun Tan’s The Red Tree), or are full of wry and not just laugh out loud humor (think The Very Persisten Gappers of Frip). I really liked this book, but I’m not saying it reaches the level of those two — they are two of my favorite books — though it is several steps in the direction of Frip.

The word play that drives the story (“Ian saw a bird soar overhead” “Ann saw a bird with a sore head”) lends itself to some gory but fun illustrations. (You really notice the red with the saturated colors.) The illustrations are handmade miniatures, photographed at interesting angles and depths of focus.

If you have an odd kid in your life, or know a grownup who was an odd kid, they might appreciate this book and its amusing story about overcoming boredom.

This was the third book for Jeffers, but the fourth of his I’ve read. (I started with The Great Paper Caper, then Lost and Found, and couldn’t wait to get my hands on his latest The Heart and the Bottle — reading in order isn’t necessary.)

The humor and absurdity is more overt in this book, the emotional resonance not nearly as strong. That’s okay; it’s fun. The artwork is unmistakably Jeffers, with his odd noses, textural collage details, but not quite this time penciled legs. This may be the best book to start with if you are sharing his work with an actual little kid, especially one who is not how interested they are going to be in books just yet.