Joe Fenton's What's Under the Bed?

Author/Illustrator: Joe Fenton (obviously.)

This cinematically illustrated book plays on a familiar theme: the nighttime terrors that every child experiences. Shadows ooze with toe tickling fear and ominous bumps go bumpity bumpity in the night... the darkness is a fertile breeding ground for the underbelly of the imagination. The nervous boy lies awake conjuring up bizarre images of the elusive monster that is biding its time, waiting to devour him.

This book, while well illustrated, seems relatively unremarkable, until you read it with its timely companion piece: Paul Auster's Man in the Dark.



In Man in the Dark, a literary critic, bedridden and in the twilight of his years, lays awake at night in an insomniac's melancholy haze. In order to keep himself occupied and to prevent himself from wallowing in the painful memories of his past, he allows his imagination to spin fantastical tales of alternate universes that evolve into all kind of metafictional fun.



(I don't want to go into too much detail because I don't want to spoil the plot. I mean, have you seen a picture of Paul Auster? You don't want to get on his bad side or he might bump you off in the night with his evil eye (of which he has two).)



These two tragic figures represent the fears that bookend our lives. On the one hand, we have a young boy who is terrified of the unknown: his future lurking just beyond his grasp. On the other hand, we have an old man who is terrified of the known: his dark past that is filled with the montrosity of his own mistakes.

One is burdened by the nascent existential crisis that fills his youthful nights with trepidation, afraid that he has a lifetime of pain and suffering ahead of him (not to be melodramatic or anything). The other is and old man, afraid to look back on his past--desperately trying to avoid confrontation with the shameful past that haunts his guilt-riddled nights. But then, backing slowly away from ones past, he runs the risk of falling over the edge into the abyss of the ultimate unknown: death.

As a youth, the boy is afraid of the dark. As an old man, je is afraid because he realizes that he is the dark... that over the course of a lifetime, he has traded potential and innocence for the consuming darkness of failure and disappointment. The monster that teases you as a child is none other than your future, the dark fate that you know in the deepest darkest part of your soul that you cannot escape.

Together, these two works comprise the basis of what is becoming known as Post-Post-9-11 fiction. In the days immediately after those horrible terrorist attacks (Post-9-11), America's consciousness was filled with fear of the unknown, the illusion of safety was abruptly torn away from them and the world was once again a fearful place with shadowy caves filled with monsters waiting to attack.

Now we find ourselves in a place (Post-Post-9-11) where we have the ability to see beyond our fears and face ourselves in the mirror. As a nation, we are now marked by the stain of tortures at Guantanamo Bay, preemptive wars, Sarah Palin... our fears have led us down a twisted path and transformed us into that which we feared all along. We have awoken in the middle of the night to find ourselves lost... and in the dark.

Well, that ended up being much darker than I had meant it to be. Life is not that bleak, there is still hope! To prove it, let's end on a lighter note with that adorable laughing baby!



Poor kid... has no idea what's waiting for him...

The Story of Ferdinand

Author: Munro Leaf
Illustrator: Robert Lawson

The Story of Ferdinand is the much beloved story (one of my childhood and current day favorites) about a peaceful bull. While his peers indulge in the machismo-soaked culture of bull fighting, Ferdinand just wants to "sit just quietly and smell the flowers". His pacifist approach to life eventually leads the bullfighters to leave him be.

While the story itself is very uplifting, the illustrations throughout the story are surprisingly sprinkled with melancholy images of death. Take this image for example:





"As the years went by Ferdinand grew and grew until he was very big and strong."










Notice the vulture (nature's harbinger of death) perched atop the hollowed tree stump. Ferdinand may be growing big and strong, but in the end, the unforgiving embrace of death awaits him... as it awaits us all. Each successive day is another tick of the clock measuring our steady march towards the grave.

Look closer and you will see vultures appearing throughout Lawson's illustrations; mounted on a sign to Madrid, quietly observing the bull fights... death is waiting around every corner.

One's natural reaction is to question Lawson's sanity... why put in these disturbing images in a book for kids?! What is your deal, you sick, sick, man?! But if you take a moment to pause and consider it... death is not inherently disturbing, it's just a fact. It is only inappropriate if you are afraid to face the inescapable reality of death, which is in fact deluding yourself. Perhaps it is best to be honest with children and subtly introduce them to the unavoidable nature of their eventual demise.

As a wise man once said, "The day you first realize that your life has an end, is the day your life truly begins."

(Note: The man who said this is now dead. I guess he proved his point.)

Ferdinand's hidden message is also a valuable lesson in the limitations of pacifist ideology. While his pacifist stance may save him from violent death in the bullfighting ring, it will not save Ferdinand from death itself. Which is a valuable lesson to learn for anyone considering a lucrative career in pacifism. It's not all flowers and rolling meadows, kids. I mean, look at some of history's most famous pacifists:

Martin Luther King Jr: Shot
Gandhi: Shot
John Lennon: Shot
Mother Theresa: Posthumously Skewered by Christopher Hitchens
Jesus Christ: Crucified
Siddartha Gautama: Poisoned by Bad Meat

My Word... who would knew pacifism could be so dangerous? For those of you who say pacifism is for sissies, think again!

...but at least Ferdinand ends on a positive note: with the image of a beautiful flower; the very thing that brought so much joy to Ferdinand's life; a symbol of peace... DYING. Seriously, on the book's final page (see below) sits a lone flower withering away, its dried petals falling from the stem of its long forgotten glory.




Even the most beautiful things eventually die.

Including You.

The End.

Sweet Dreams, Kiddo!

Where Do People Go When They Die?

Author: Mindy Avra Portnoy
Illustrator: Shelly Haas

Portnoy is a rabbi who presents this book as a tool to help parents cope with the awkward situation of discussing the concept of death and the afterlife with their kids. (Apparently, the popular "Grandpa went on vacation" approach is no longer recommended.)

Indeed, death is a tricky question. Just ask Dr. Kevorkian who, just last week, was released after 8 years in prison because of his controversial interpretation of death. Upon his release, he has sworn that he will not break any more laws, but will work to change the law in order to legalize the practice of physician assisted suicide.

What he needs is a good P.R. person. It's hard to win people over when you are known as "Dr. Death." (and it is even harder to shake the name "Dr. Death" when you naturally resemble the Grim Reaper.) If I were to manage his campaign, my first act would be to spread his message by utilizing popular medical television shows. Yes, in this case, the revolution will be televised.


Grey's Anatomy: McDreamy, McSteamy? Meet the newest surgical resident, Dr. McDeathy. Death is much easier to cope with when you have a sensitive doctor with wavy hair and bedroom eyes pulling your plug.





House: He puts the Ass in Assisted Suicide.






ER: Is this show even still on?





Scrubs: Actually, I would make this show a recipient of an assisted suicide... anything to put Zack Braff and the rest of the cast out of their misery. Don't get me wrong, I love the show (and spent a large portion of my unemployment watching every syndicated episode 5 times over). But I can't watch it anymore. It's too painful. You could tell that by Season 4, the actors started to get tired of the show and began going through the motions. Now they just push along, trying to hold onto the magic that made them successful, but quickly turning into grotesque caricatures of themselves. For their own good, it's time to let them go. But there's no need to cry. Even if the show does come to a merciful end, it will never truly leave us. Where Do Sitcoms Go When They Die? They are reborn in syndication and reincarnated as DVD Box Sets.

If only life were that simple. I would love to be reincarnated as the DVD version of myself, complete with Special Bonus Features.

Deleted Scenes: Including the scene where, at 10 years old, I easily defeat Turbo and Nitro to become the youngest person to ever win American Gladiators.

Alternate Endings: Such as the ending where I die saving a shipload of kittens from Antonin Scalia and his bloodthirsty gang of constructionist thugs.

Director's Commentary: "In this post-party scene from The College Years, I really thought it would be effective to have Minh wake up wearing nothing but a full-length floral skirt. I briefly toyed with the idea of him waking up in a haze wearing a purple zoot suit, but decided that the skirt had a more nuanced comedic value."

Of course, I would make sure to destroy all copies of Minh Le Seasons 11-17: The Awkward Years. No one needs to see that again. Once was more than enough.

jellybeans

Author/Illustrator: Sylvia Van Ommen

George (a rabbit) and Oscar (cat) arrange to meet up in the park to share jellybeans. Their afternoon snack soon leads to a disarming discussion of the existence of heaven, as both characters express their anxieties about the great beyond. The key to Van Ommen's story is that she doesn't pretend to have any answers. Rather, she allows George and Oscar the luxury of their existential anxieties... which is much more refreshing than sweeping their worries under the rug with sugar-coated message. Jellybeans is ultimately optimistic, but does not dare to discount or dismiss the validity of uncertainty (and reasonable doses of quiet despair).

Possible sequels to jellybeans:

gummy bears: George and Oscar share an packet of gummy bears while discussing Purgatory. The story ends with a discussion of Pope Benedict's recent decision to reconsider the doctrine of "limbus infantum", which says that unbaptized babies go into Limbo.

peanut m&m's: While considering the concept of hell, George and Oscar decide that if they do happen to end up in a fiery afterlife, they would both bring m&m's because they melt in your mouth, not in your hand.

now & laters: George and Oscar are joined by their buddy Sid the Squirrel for a meditation session and a lesson on reincarnation.

brussel sprouts: The two friends meet up in the park only to realize that they both forgot to bring candy. This disappointing turn of events forces them to grapple with the possibility that there may not be an afterlife. Maybe religious doctrine has it all wrong. Maybe you die and you're dead, and that's all she wrote. The two friends are rudely interrupted when Christopher Hitchens pops out from behind a tree and drunkenly shouts, "Aha!" and then kicks Oscar in the head for good measure.

Do Not Open This Book!

Author: Michaela Muntean
Illustrator: Pascal Lemaitre

This is one of the "funnest" books I've read in a while. If you are so bold as to disregard the title and open the book, you'll find that it is not yet finished. Instead you will find a busy and disgruntled pig. He is in the process of putting the book together and he makes it clear that you are in his way. He has writer's block, and its name is YOU. But don't listen to the pig! Do, DO open this book! (haha... doodoo.) You won't regret it!

This is the kind of book that I would classify as "postmodern"... if I knew what "postmodern" meant. The word is thrown around a lot (particularly in college, particularly in coffee shops, and usually by particularly particular people), yet few seemed to really know what they meant when they used it. (Those who did actually know what postmodern meant would usually keep it to themselves--preferring to sit in dimly-lit corners, carefully sipping their earl grey tea, and quietly pretending that they didn't put gel in their hair to make it look like they just woke up.)

Luckily, having worked in a college coffee shop, I have figured it out! Using the cumulative data from hundreds of coffee shop conversations that I have either been a part of or overheard, I have been able to piece together that postmodern means "especially cool if you are stoned." (i.e. "Don't you think that the pervasive use of mirrors as a symbolic element in Borges' short fiction is reflective of the postmodern nature of his labyrinthine narrative technique?" or "Dude, eating curly fries at 4:20 is soooo postmodern. Hey apron-man, can I get a refill on this apple pie?")

Millions of Cats

Author/Illustrator: Wanda Gag

A lonely couple decides that they want to get a cat. The husband heads off into the countryside and comes upon a hill that is covered with millions, Trillions, BILLIONS of cats! Unable to pick a favorite among the throng of adorable kitties, the couple asks them, "Who is the prettiest?" Bad idea. In a storm of unspeakable violence, the cats proceed to kill eachother off as they attempt to prove their superiority. After the fight, there is only one lone unassuming kitten left. This particular little kitten survived because she was too modest to promote herself, thereby managing to stay above (or below) the fray and escaping the deadly competition.

This story sheds light on a particularly relevant problem in today's information saturated world--the rise of the internet has created a million cat conundrum for every citizen with access to a computer. As we set off on our search for information, how are we to choose between the infinite sources of data? With so many options at our disposal, how can we possibly know who's voice deserves our attention? Are the overwhelming number of alternatives dooming us to a life of paralysis through indecision? Who stole the cookie from the cookie jar? Is there anything we can do?!

The answer is simple: Advertising. That is where Gag's book gets it wrong... marketing and self-promotion are actually the simplest way to make sense of this crazy world. In a world of infinite choices, it is up to marketing to manufacture a hierarchy and tell us who to pay attention to. Who has the best commercials? Who has the catchiest jingle? Who's video travels the information superhighway the fastest? We don't have to find the best option, the best option will find us! In today's world, that quiet little kitty wouldn't have stood a chance. She would never get noticed--for all intents and purposes, she would not exist. Sure, this system isn't exactly fair, and it does makes your soul cry just a little... but we might as well face the facts: Advertising is the new religion, self-promotion our saving grace.

For those of you who are skeptical about the connection between advertising and religion, I present you with Exhibit A: Jesus. Regardless of your religious affiliation, there is no denying that Jesus is, by far, the most successful spokesperson in history--followed at a safe distance by Mickey Mouse, Ronald McDonald, and the late Anna Nicole Smith (the former spokeswoman for both TrimSpa and Giant Boobs... may they rest in peace).

Not only that, but (from a purely marketing standpoint) the image of Jesus on the Cross is easily the most powerful and successful example of "image branding" that the world has ever seen. As the first truly transcendent logo, this image virtually gave birth to modern advertising. Without Jesus on the Cross, there would be no Nike Swoosh, no Macintosh Apple, no IKEA Furgenzihooven. The Christian God is the Michael Jordan of advertising. And Christianity is the Nike of religions.

As a point of contrast, consider Buddhism. The name brand recognition of Buddhism is so tenuous that lightweights such as Cypress Hill and legions of Phish fans were able to use the Buddha as a symbol for marijuana. Have you ever seen a religion so brazenly disrespected? Do you think Jesus would tolerate being the spokesperson for heroin? Can you imagine Mohammed on a trippy dorm poster celebrating crystal meth? Or a Vishnu shaped hooka*? No, Buddhism desperately needs to work on its marketing strategy. In the hallowed halls of divine advertising, if Christianity is Nike... then Buddhism is the New Balance of religions.

*I actually can see this happening. If someone does make a Vishnu shaped hooka, I want my cut of the blasphemous profits.

It's Okay to Be Different

Author/Illustrator: Todd Parr

We are all different and we all have our insecurities about those differences. For example, I am a man (formerly boy) with somewhat feminine (alright, downright girly) hands. One of the challenges as you make your way down the windy road of life is to come to terms with yourself and overcome those insecurities. As I have. (But don't joke about my hands when I'm drunk unless you want a feminine fist to the face. Don't say I didn't warn you.)

This book of saccharine feel-good platitudes is a good natured attempt to help children embrace their differences and realize that those little quirks are what makes us special. Which is a great thing to teach kids--in theory, Parr should be commended. However, as with all artificial sweeteners, too much can kill you... and this book is definitely overkill. The final straw comes at the end with a direct message from the author: "It's Okay to be different. You are Special and Important just because of being Who You Are. Love, Todd." Isn't that just precious? Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go throw up.

That being said, against all odds, and despite its nauseating optimism and electrifyingly offensive color scheme (when did I turn into such a jaded old grump?), this book does get an official Bottom Shelf Salute! How is this possible? Simple. Parr manages to save his book from the wrath of my paper shredder with one glorious page that features the single greatest affirmation of all time: "It's okay to eat macaroni and cheese in the bathtub."

Can I get an AMEN! Time to pop some EZ-Mac into the microwave, fix myself a bubble bath, and fire up the loofa... Paradise awaits!

Customer Service Note: During a recent party (at approximately 3:32 am), a friend and I were having some trouble preparing our late night mac & cheese fix. So we called the Kraft hotline to ask, "Where is the butter?! Can you tell us where the butter is?!"

They were not the least bit helpful. Apparently it's not okay to be that different that early in the morning.

Why Did the Chicken Cross the Road?

Authors/Illustrators: Everybody and their mother

An all-star cast of picture book artists converge in this book to provide their answers to this age old riddle. Some artists get creative with their illustrations--like the one where the cops interrogate the chicken using techniques that only Attorney General Alberto Gonzales (or Jack Bauer) would approve of. Others are not so creative. I mean, seriously... a picnic? Is that really the best you could come up with? We've been beating our heads against the wall for all these years only to find out that the chicken crossed the road for a freakin' picnic?!

From the Archives: I also tackled this question for my college essay in 1997 (you can read it in the comments section below). For the Dartmouth application, they asked you to come up with your own question and answer it. So, in a show of either incredible guts or great stupidity, I chose the question, "Why Did The Chicken Cross the Road?" for my essay. Luckily for me, the gamble appeared to pay off because they let me in despite my solidly unspectacular transcript. Suckas!

Disclaimer: The opinions expressed in the following essay by the 1997 Minh do not necessarily reflect the opinions of the 2007 Minh. Keep in mind that he was young, because the essay is written with an air of pretension that is unique to high school seniors (and recent college graduates writing cover letters). On the plus side, the 1997 Minh did not have lines shaved into the side of his head... unlike the (mercifully) short-lived 1991 version.

Work, Work, Work

Author/Illustrator: Daniel Quinn

If this name sounds oddly familiar, yes, it is that Daniel Quinn. This is the author that became famous during the early 90's for producing a number of thought-provoking novels, the most famous of which is Ishmael. (Admittedly, I never got around to reading it, but a lot of my friends did. I think it has something to do with a giant gorilla that uses his telepathic powers to steer a nuclear submarine that chases a renegade CIA agent posing as a white whale. I could be wrong... but I'm not.)

Here Quinn makes a partially successful leap to the world of picture books. His narrative ability remains as sharp as ever. The message of Work, Work, Work is that sometimes you're so busy working that you miss out on life. Strong stuff and consistent with the themes of his other books. His illustrations though... could use a little work (no pun intended). Quinn's artistic style can best be described as resembling an eight year old using Microsoft Paint for the first time while eating Sour Patch Kids dipped in LSD.

If you think I'm being harsh, I dare you to check the book out for yourself and tell me I'm wrong. But be forewarned: DO NOT, under any circumstances, lick either of the rainbow spaceships on page 17.

The Three Questions

Author/Illustrator: Jon J. Muth

An adaptation of a short story by Leo Tolstoy, this story follows Nikolai, a young boy trying to answer three of life's biggest questions: When is the best time to do things? Who is the most important one? What is the right thing to do? Young Nikolai has to climb a mountain, chase a turtle, and rescue some pandas before finding the answers. Sound like too much work for enlightenment? I thought so. Luckily you don't have to go through all that, because the answers are actually quite simple:

When is the best time to do things? After eating a hot dog.

Who is the most important one? The one who has those incriminating pictures of you from that regrettable night in college.

What is the right thing to do? Admit to the waitress that you are actually 27 and not 12, so technically you shouldn't be able to order from the Kid's Menu even though it's so much cheaper and all you want is a grilled cheese sandwich that doesn't cost $7.50.

I understand if you read the book anyways because you want Tolstoy's take on it... but I guarantee you, I'm not that far off! Tolstoy loved hot dogs and he lived for grilled cheese sandwiches. This is obvious to anyone who has seen the original manuscript of War and Peace, 75 percent of which is translucent due to grease stains.

Sibling Suggestion: My sister had a good suggestion: Collect people's answers to the Big 3 Questions! So (all 5 of you that read this blog), if you've got the time (and I know you do, otherwise you wouldn't be reading this), go to the comments section below and fill us in on your particular take on the meaning of life. Whoever has the best answers gets free backstage passes to Nirvana!