The Benefit of a Bad Example

This week I received the ARC for Gail Carson Levine’s new book of poems, Forgive Me, I Meant to Do It: False Apology Poems. Illustrated by Matthew Cordell (Harper)


At only eighty pages, this little collection is jammed full of poems sharing the title, form, and unrepentant attitude of the famous William Carlos Williams poem:





This Is Just To Say

I have eaten
the plums
that were in
the icebox

and which
you were probably
saving
for breakfast

Forgive me
they were delicious
so sweet
and so cold.

In an introduction that doesn't appear until page eighteen (after many poems have had their say), Levine lays out the simple pattern then challenges readers to write some, too. Her offerings involve topics ranging from fairy tale twists to sibling blackmail and beyond. Levine's wry perspectives and Cordell's wickedly clever line drawings put me in mind of a timeless favorite of my early years, Edward Lear.



As Edward Lear’s two hundredth birthday approaches, a year-long celebration of his life and life's work is underway.

There are many titles to explore, in books and online, but I love His Shoes Were Far Too Tight, by Edward Lear, Masterminded by Daniel Pinkwater, Illustrated by Calef Brown. Featuring colorfully portrayed favorites, this begins with Pinkwater’s biographic salute to Lear.

Lear was a game changer in children's literature, instrumental in generating a paradigm shift from “morality tales” about good boys and girls to stories and poems that were purely entertaining, (even if sometimes just a tad scandalous).

Pinkwater's blurb on the back fold shares his initial discovery of Lear. Like Pinkwater, I remember my first time, so to speak. I found a tattered collection of Lear limericks on a weekly library search and promptly proceeded to read anything with his name on it. Then I read them all again. And again.

From the inimitable "The Owl and the Pussycat" to his lyrical "A is for Apple" and on to his limericks (my personal pick as favorites), Lear never settled for the mundane, embracing nonsensical images and playful language that tickle the ear and the mind.
(Side note: Lear's line art can be seen on the introduction page of this book and in many online examples.)

I consider any comparison to Lear high praise indeed, and it's well-earned in Newberry-honored Levine's sassy and stimulating collection of false apology poems. I can't imagine anyone reading this without a smile.

And so, Ta-Da... my first give-away is officially launched:

Contest Rules!

Prize- One ARC of FORGIVE ME, I MEANT TO DO IT: False Apology Poems, by Gail Carson Levine, Illustrated by Matthew Cordell (Harper).

To Enter- Leave a comment on this post. Just say hello, if that’s all you want to do. But I’d love to read your thoughts about the post or the blog in general.

Deadline- Between midnight, February 26 and 6:00 AM, Wednesday, February 29.

Winner Selection: Selection from all entries will be completed using Random.org
If an alternate is needed, remaining entries will be resubmitted to Random.org.

Winner Notification- Winners will be announced on March 1, here and on Twitter @PBWorkshop. To be contacted directly, include your email address or twitter@ in your comment. Without contact information, winner must respond no later than Sunday, March 4 or another name will be selected.

Who May Enter- Everyone is welcome, but the prize will be mailed only within the USA. If you are from another country and want to enter anyway, the book can be mailed to someone you know in the USA.


Psssst- pass it on....

A Poetry Throw-Back-Thursday: Edward Lear

I plunged into this series of poetry posts with some personal notes. In that post I mentioned childhood memories of the limited and outdated poetry section of my public library. The meager offerings in the  children's fiction and nonfiction sections held little temptation for rereading. Not so for the poetry "section". I must have signed my name on the check-out line of some of those poetry books a half-dozen times or more. The few shelves of poems were filled with collections by long-dead or aging poets, but  the life in their words generated smiles and tickled my ears even after multiple readings.

I also enjoyed collections by Ogden Nash but, by far, my favorites were those of Edward Lear. I recently purchased a tattered copy of a compilation of Lear's nonsense poems, including his original A BOOK OF NONSENSE (1846). His humorous limericks and comical line drawings were hugely popular when first published. I found them every bit as appealing more than a century later as I sat, knees near chin, on a tiny,splintered, hard-wood chair under buzzing fluorescent lights in the corner of the library allotted to children. 

Thankfully, even by the mid-fifties, the children's versions were reprinted in bi-color with larger print and  illustrations enlarged to reveal the intricacies of what should not be seen as incidental detail. Each decade that followed enhanced and colorized Lear's collections further. Kids DO judge books by their covers, and the updates allowed them to find and explore these classics across countless generations.

Limericks were Lear's specialty. His prolific offerings were published in a variety of collections, emphasizing everything from the alphabet to botany to music. 
Perhaps his most famous limerick is "There Was An Old Man With a Beard." It has been re-illustrated and recited in countless ways, and still elicits giggles from children who hear it for the first time. 
It's hard to imagine any illustrator surpassing the appeal of his original work:

Lear's work remains popular and invites reinvention and interpretation in contemporary publishing, more than two hundred years after Lear's birth. 

1998

THE OWL AND THE PUSSYCAT by Edward Lear ,with pictures by James Marshall , offered a delightful approach in 1998. It includes an thoughtful afterward by Maurice Sendak. Perhaps because of my exposure and early dedication to Lear's original style, I tend to prefer his clever line drawings above the more recent adaptations. Yet some, like this one, are unquestionably winners.

2011

Another even more recent reinvention (2011) comes in the form of HIS SHOES WERE FAR TOO TIGHT by Edward Lear, masterminded by Daniel Pinkwater and illustrated by Calef Brown. I wrote about this magical intersection of three geniuses in one of the earliest posts on this blog, here.

The centuries-long endurance of Lear's poetry appeal, in original states and in reinterpretations across decades, is a testament to their value. Anyone who wants to "hook" readers on poetry should consider starting with Lear, whose wry humor, witty word choices, and musical meter set a high bar for all who followed, including kids' favorites like Shel Silverstein and Jack Prelutsky.

If you have LLear favorites or memories, please share them in the comments.