Tag: picturebooks

Perhaps the Model for Lionel Trug

Paddington in the Garden – written by Michael Bond, illustrated by R.W. Alley
HarperCollins, 2002

At the beginning of Paddington in the Garden, the bear we all love is, typically, engaged in an act of gratitude. He is making a list of “all the nice things” about his life with the Brown family.  Paddington is not one to overlook the simple joys of life: “a room of his own and warm bed to sleep in.” Of course, he singles out the availability of marmalade, which in Darkest Peru had been only a weekly treat. R.W. Alley pictures him seated at a table in his own garden, where climbing trellises of red and purple flowers and a bird sipping from a fountain set the scene.

Mrs. Bird, the housekeeper whose wisdom is matched only by her kindness, suggests finding space for Paddington, along with the Brown children, Jonathan and Judy, for their own sections of the garden to tend. At first Paddington is perplexed, learning that gardening is challenging, especially for a bear. He decides to go shopping, in search of some inspiration.  In the local market, he comes upon an old copy of an apparently popular guide, How to Plan Your Garden, by Lionel Trug. 

I recently read an obituary in The New York Times that suggested a real-life model for the gardening expert, who eventually awards Paddington a medal for his quite original entrance in the National Garden Day competition. Mr. David Hessayon was, according to the subtitle, “a fixture of British life for half a century.” He earned this status with a series of how-to volumes on gardening, with titles such as Be Your Own Gardening Expert (1959), Be Your Own House Plant Expert, and The New Flower Expert. The books appealed with their straightforward advice and unpretentious tone.  Then I read that Mr. Hessayon was the children of immigrants from Cyprus. By their names, his parents seem to have been Jewish.  His father was a watchmaker, immediately calling to mind Paddington’s friend, Mr. Gruber, tinkering in his antique shop.  Michael Bond was an outspoken advocate for immigrants; Paddington himself found refuge in Britain after a long sea voyage. He was fortunate to be met by the family who took the instructions, “Please look after this bear,” to heart.  (link to my previous posts on Bond.). He specifically linked the character of Mr. Gruber to his memory of having seen Jewish children arriving during World War II, on the kindertransport program.

In the book, Mr. Trug has gray hair and sideburns and wears a tweed vest and a green sports jacket.  Paddington’s naiveté often highlights some human foible. Upon first glancing through the book, the bear had remarked that Mr. Trug, who appears on the back smoking a pipe, seems to “do most of his planning while lying in a hammock.”  He seems a bit full of himself as he marches towards the recipient of his prestigious award. I’m sure that Mr. Hessayon, shown in the Times grinning broadly in a greenhouse with his geraniums, was not pompous at all. In fact, I’m sure that Paddington would have been his friend.

Owl Writes by Candlelight

Cozy Winter Day – written and illustrated by Eliza Wheeler
Nancy Paulsen Books (Penguin Random House), 2024

Here is another one of my many posts about past, imaginary, or longed-for snow (for example here and here and here and here and here and here). It also falls into the category of personified animals performing sweet, graceful, and productive tasks (Miguel Tanco is another master of this art).  Beautifully realized scenes of domestic interiors, as well as the outdoors also characterize this lovely new picture book by Eliza Wheeler (I reviewed another of her books for Jewish Book Council). Not only does an owl compose the story of her village by candlelight, but a hedgehog weaves baskets and a rabbit, who uses a wheelchair, paints at an easel.

The endpapers and the introductory list of characters immediately made me ask, where are the toys? I don’t mean this with any disdain at all! The brightly colored and detailed figures are reminiscent of the kind of traditional, non-electric miniature animals you can still find as playthings.  The Hopps family have names out of a mid-century t.v. sitcom: Bud, Dot, Sis, and Herb.  However, Herb is the artist with a disability, setting this story in the fortunately more realistic and inclusive present.  The beaver family is of Celtic origin, judging by their name, McPaddy.  An interesting choice was to include both Ms. Polly, a porcupine, and Otto and Una Heddle, who seem to be hedgehogs. 

The book’s plot is not the main point. Rather, it is the warm and harmonious community of creatures enjoying the winter.  In the Hopps’ family kitchen, Pop is frying up something delicious on an antique wood stove while Dad enters with a bag of groceries. The baby, sitting in his highchair, seems impatient, but not enough to make the parents frantic.  Otto the hedgehog “gathers bundles of yarn,” although it’s not clear if he is going to knit or if he is helping Una, who is bringing snacks.  All the animal parents are clearly nurturing.

The featured adjective in the title is “cozy,” and miniature spaces represent the essence of this quality. There are two pages explaining the characteristics of a “nook.” These small areas can be dedicated to different purposes: reading, painting, eating breakfast, or hiding.  Sometimes they are shared, but often they are places where animals can be quietly alone. On the other hand, Acorn Village requires a lot of labor, if you can apply that term to making paper chains and building with blocks, as well as pulling children on sleds and preparing food.  Consuming food is also a big part of life here.

Everything in the book adds up to restful sleep. The bedtime scene is dark, with pastel-colored bedding and a blue and white starry night sky.  “Let’s have a Cozy Winter Day again tomorrow.” Capitalized letters make it clear that tomorrow will involve repetition of today. That reassuring quality is the point of living in Acorn Village.