Looking at the pretty pictures

As I mentioned on Monday, I haven't been able to read much lately, but I have been able to look at the pictures. It started with a beautiful book of Judaica, which some very wise and wonderful friends gave me when I graduated from college.

Then I stumbled upon news about the 1952 cover art for Charlotte's Web, which has been recently sold at auction for $155,000, more than five times its estimated value.



It made me stop and think for a moment about how much a picture is worth. A thousand words? Hundreds of thousands of dollars? I suppose it depends on the picture, who drew it, and which story it belongs to.

I've always loved children's literature. My parents read me bedtime stories—most in English, maybe a few in Spanish—and the magic never really wore off.

As an undergraduate, I had the pleasure of learning from Marie Rutkoski, who is now the author of The Cabinet of Wonders. It's not a picture book, but it's pretty darn magical.

Last Fall, I took a course on children's literature and religious education, and I got to meet Donna Freitas, the author of The Possibilities of Sainthood. She got me thinking about the possibilities of this world.

Do you ever feel like you're straddling two worlds, or a few worlds? Donna made me start believing that perhaps I don't have to choose only one. I think she has a very expansive imagination.

Then in the Spring, I went to a lecture by Eric Carle, author and illustrator of The Very Hungry Caterpillar. Some very thoughtful and highly educated person asked him a very complicated question about how he came up with such a genius tool for teaching very little kids how to read.

English is Eric's second language. German is his first. He was trained as a graphic artist, not as a writer. He simply answered that he made pretty pictures that he liked and that he wrote simple sentences to go along with them.

When I was little, we must have read Are You My Mother? a thousand times before I was tucked into bed. I loved it for the part with the tractor. I wrinkled my nose and giggled with glee every time my mom said it.

Go on, say it, I would think, waiting in anticipation.

And then, she would turn the page, look at me, and sigh, "SNORT! said the tractor!"

Corduroy was another of my frequent requests, but only because there was a girl in it named Lisa. I barely remember the plot line. I was also obsessed with some nursery rhyme about a girl who died because her parents wouldn't buy her a pony. Tragic, I know.

So how about you. What are your favorite children's books? Nursery rhymes? Pretty pictures? I'm always accepting good recommendations.