A few recent finds – some better than others.
I was delighted to see Madeline in one of my favorite places – Rome.  Madeline and the Cats of Rome by Ludwig Bemelmans’ grandson and author of a few newer Madeline books, John Bemelmans Mariciano. Unfortunately, although the pictures (at least in the first part of the book) are sweet and evocative, the plot is strained and really doesn’t make much sense.

Although, to be honest, the only two Madeleine books I every really liked a lot were the original and Madeline and the Gypsies.
(Spoiler Alert!)
Okay, so Miss Clavell and the little girls in two straight lines go to Rome. They visit various places, someone is pickpocketed, and Madeleine chases the thief – another little girl – to some empty small palazzo where she is taking care cats, having run away from home – but only for a couple of days. It really makes no sense and might have been better if Marciano had simply let the cats of Rome and their caretakers speak for themselves –
Oh, and if we’re talking children’s books about cats and Rome, Pino and Signora’s Pasta is better, in my opinion, than Madeline here. And if you want more Rome’n’Animals books – I love – just love David Macauley’s Rome Antics, about a pigeon, with a pigeon’s-eye view.


Now, moving on from Rome, we read two books this week that both touched on heritage, change, immigration, the value of traditional culture and the possibilities of the future. Very different books, I found them both quite moving.
The Best Winds is about a little boy whose Korean grandfather has just moved in. The grandfather dresses in the old ways and spends his days doing traditional things, while the boy is far more interested in skateboarding and video games.  The grandfather declares it is time to contruct a kite for the “best winds” are coming. Throughout the process, the boy is
disinterested and can barely listen, but is surprised by his own reaction to a mistake – he takes the kite out too early, it is damaged, and his grandfather is saddened.  You can probably imagine what happens next, and while there are no shocking endings here, there are small touches that raise the level of this book, two in particular: the broad brushstrokes that overlay the detail of the pictures at times, giving us a sense of movement, of wind, of being swept along, and the grandfather’s hands, which are described in various ways, almost offhandedly, until by the end you realize that the hands which throughout much of the book have been described as cool or weak or shaking, are now warm and strong. Really pretty wonderful.
Naming Liberty really got me. It’s by Jane Yolen, a name familiar to children’s book readers of all ages. It’s a really interesting conceit – she juxtaposes, on opposing pages, the story of a Jewish family emigrating to the United States from somewhere in Russia or Eastern Europe with the story of the creation and construction of the Statue of Liberty. The text is a bit wordy and perhaps unnecessarily detailed on the Statue of Liberty side, and children younger than 7 or so might be confused. But the stories told in tandem – a family, with a little girl who wants a new name, an American name like her brother who’d gone before them got, crossing the ocean to freedom, and Lady Liberty, making her own crossing to greet them as they arrive – just works so well.
And it won’t be too hard to guess what the little girl claims as her new name, will it?
Now, taken together, these two books present the push and pull of cultural change, don’t they?  Coming to another land to seek freedom and find a way out of poverty, we gain so much – but what do we have to be so careful not to lose in the process? As a student of immigrant-rooted Catholicism in the US, as the daughter of a French-Canadian (1st generation) mother who in later life kicked herself for not even considering speaking French to me when I was a child, it’s something that I ponder quite a bit.