Merry Olde England, Illustrated

St. George and the Dragon, retold by Margaret Hodges from Edmund Spenser's The Faerie Queene, illustrated by my hero, Trina Schart Hyman. Little, Brown and Company, 1984. As you can see from these photos, Trina Schart Hyman is a master illustrator. We had this book when I was a kid, and ever since then, these are the kinds of illustrations that I have wanted to do. The way she handles landscapes, light, detail, and her characters' forms and faces is just amazing. This is perhaps my favorite page of the book. It is so exciting! Can't you just feel the warmth that is still rising from the ground as the day closes, and the cold breeze that is snapping the banners and making the standing wheat sway? Don't you just love the drawings of the hills, the peasants, the children? And what's that over there ... a bank of clouds blowing in for the night? ... That's what I took it to be, for years. But perhaps it is ... smoke from the dragon! "The dreadful dragon lay stretched on the sunny side of a great hill, like a great hill himself, and when he saw the knight's armor glistening in the sunlight, he came eagerly to do battle." This amazing picture is accompanied by a solid paragraph of description of the dragon. In a modern book, we would consider it over-written, but bear in mind that this story would have been told without any pictures or film. The teller had to create a picture in his hearers' minds. The kids will sit patiently through the old-fashioned prose, because they have such an amazing illustration to look at meanwhile. And while they sit, their ears will be bathed in phrases that bear the features of old Anglo-Saxon poetry: strong rhythm, assonance, and pairs and even triplets of alliterating words. "In his tail's end, two sharp stings were fixed. But sharper still were his cruel claws. Whatever he touched or drew within those claws was in deadly danger. His head was more hideous than tongue can tell ... He snatched the spear in his claws and broke it off, throwing forth flames of fire from his nostrils. He hurled his hideous tail about ..." If experience is any guide, little girls will sigh at this picture. Una looks all of eighteen; George, twenty. They got started young back then. Look at the red braid on the king, and the carved Celtic face on his chair. That's why this is one of my favorite books.

Ancient Sumerian Epic Makes a Great Children's Book

You laugh. ... They love it.

Imagine my delight to find this illustrated version of the Epic of Gilgamesh, which as you can see was retold and illustrated by Ludmila Zeman.

Gilgamesh, like most ancient rulers, is a god sent to rule a people. Unable to relate to humans, he rich, powerful, lonely, and cruel. He makes the people build a wall around the city of Uruk (a historical city), just to show his power. After a while, the people realize that the building on the wall is never going to stop. (Could this myth be a memory of the Tower of Babel, which was meant to reach to the heavens?) They cry out to the Sun god for help.

In reply, the Sun god sends Enkidu, who is also a god-man. But instead of being a Ken doll like Gilgamesh, Enkidu is a hairy wild man who lives among the animals of the forest. (This wild man aspect is perhaps why my three-year-old was fascinated with Enkidu ... is he a picture of the hairy, but soft-hearted, wild man within every three-year-old?) When no one can capture Enkidu, the beautiful Shamhat is sent to lure him to his death at Gilgamesh's hand.

Instead, she falls in love with him. And here comes the only part of the book that I censored for my kids. I simply skip the sentence, "They explored the ways of love together."

Enkidu rises to Gilgamesh's challenge and they have a long, terrifying battle on the city wall. My son wanted to take a picture of this page, where Gilgamesh slips and falls. This super ancient myth has enduring appeal because it is, basically, a superhero story. The DC comics of the Fertile Crescent.

Enkidu chooses to rescue Gilgamesh rather than let him fall.

Gilgamesh has found a peer and a friend. He has experienced mercy. Humanized, he orders work on the wall stopped forever.

How wonderful it is to have a god/king who understands us, who understands what it is to be weak and need mercy ... and to receive it. Look, even the Babylonian sphinxes are happy.

I love the illustrations in this book. They were clearly well researched. For any child who sees them, they will form his first impression of the world of ancient Sumeria. For adults, they capture well our feeling of that ancient world being always sunny, yet somehow always bathed in a golden sunset. The grandeur is there.

The people are celebrating Gilgamesh's change of heart. As you look at these pictures, what do they remind you of? I think they capture ancient Sumeria well, but they also reminded me of Mesoamerica, and, believe it or not, Bali. India is also in view. All complex, centralized civilizations with a lot of idolatry. ... Great book.

Barabbas

"Barabbas waited on the death row shelf. He had run in a gang. He would die by himself. His muscles were thin, his skin was pale, but then that comes with a stay in jail. He was tough underneath, and rough as well, but he jumped at a thump on the door of his cell." So begins one of the best Arch Books ever. It's about the trial of Jesus, and everything about it is right, from the terrific poetry to the dark art that exactly captures the mood for this event. I would not want this artist illustrating everything from Jesus' life, but for these characters and this event, it is just perfect.

See how the trial before Pilate is shown. The details of the laurel leaves, the Roman crest, and the way the Jewish priests are clumped together. Jesus is the least ugly person in the room, but He is by no means pretty or feminized. Pilate's moral weakness is visible in the shape of his face and body. On other pages, there are pictures of Pilate washing his hands before the crowd, and reading his wife's letter warning him to "have nothing to do with that innocent man."

Just look at those ravens flying overhead in this mob scene! How perfect. They know someone is going to die today. They are carrion birds, like the mob below them. I must say a word about the poetry in this book. It is so different from some of the Arch books, where entire incidents, lines, or interpretations are added, obviously just to achieve a rhyme. Very few words are wasted in Barabbas. The rythym is pounding (rather like the relentless pound of events). The choice of words is solid and meaty. There are rhymes within the lines, such as "he jumped at a thump" and some are onomatopoetic, such as, "They hissed and insisted that several times/Jesus was guilty of terrible crimes." The book ends with a pale, puffy Barabbas stepping out into the light, squinting uncomprehendingly at the back of the mob as Jesus is led away. High recommended.