[Image above, "Where the Wild Things Are," a tribute to Maurice Sendak
by elmicro of the deviantArt site. Click the image to see the original.]
Today marks Maurice Sendak’s 81st birthday.
This year also marks the 45th anniversary of the publication of Where the Wild Things Are. From 100 Best Books for Children:
After creating art for almost fifty books by other authors, Sendak took up a project of his own begun in November 1955, a saga called “Where the Wild Horses Are.” But since he couldn’t draw horses very well, he tried to think of another character he might use — eventually focusing on “Wild Things.” That idea brought back childhood memories of his Brooklyn relatives — aunts, uncles, cousins — who would come visiting and eat his family food. They pinched his cheeks and cooed over him, saying, “You’re so cute, I could eat you up.” Sendak brought these relatives and the movie King Kong together in his story caldron. As Sendak drew and redrew the Wild Things — at first quite skinny and under-nourished — they gained weight and density.
…
The writer’s favorite fan letter reads: “How much does it cost to get to where the Wild Things are? If it is not expensive, my sister and I would like to spend the summer there.”
The book’s grip on the popular imagination — at least in the US, among the generations which have grown up since 1964 — boggles the mind. And among artists and illustrators? Pfft: words don’t suffice.
(For example, just check out, the deviantArt site where thousands of indie/professional artists display their work online. Do a search on “wild things” and you get over 12,000 hits, among them the illustration which tops this post: Max giving a Wild Thing as good as he gets. Not all of those hits refer to the book, but a lot — I mean, a lot — of them do.)
Here’s a video of Sendak talking about “his work, childhood, [and] inspirations”:
Finally, if you follow such things you probably already know about the forthcoming film version of Where the Wild Things Are, from director Spike Jonze and screenwriter Dave Eggers. Here’s the trailer for it:
My mom bought me Where the Wild Things Are and a wild thing toy when I was a senior in high school. I’ve loved it ever since. My son does not like it at all. Neither does my husband. Oh well.
My wild thing is on my book shelf watching over the living room. Makes me happy.
I have to add to and change part of my comment. My son liked Wild Things for a while, but he liked In the Night Kitchen a lot.
My husband doesn’t like Sendak’s drawing and so has never gotten to the stories. But I’ve bought several of them anyway.
marta: The books that kids latch onto, and the books they don’t… One of my favorite things about being an uncle, back when The Niece and Nephews were little, was the annual December bookstore-shopping spree. I loved finding cool (COOL cool, not BOGUS cool) books for them. I didn’t have to do the Sendak books, though, because my sisters had already taken care of that.
And few of the books I got for them were anything remotely like the books we’d gotten as kids. They had those kinds of books already, or picked ‘em out themselves. I liked getting the sly subversive titles. :)
Thanks for the video link. I love hearing Sendak speak. He reminds me why I wanted to study children’s lit. Hyperbole aside, he’s my hero — for the respect he has for the emotional lives of children.
Jules: I heard Sendak speak in person once. about 20 years ago, at the Morgan Library in NYC. I remember being dazzled by his assertive modesty and generosity. But, alas, I don’t remember much of anything about what he actually said… although I’m certain it was memorable. Why don’t I remember it, then? Because among the audience was someone who…
…well…
…Okay, listen, I’m not going to get all fanboyish or anything. But after the talk I was downstairs in one of the galleries at the Morgan, which was at the time showing something like Rembrandt’s or Goya’s drawings. The gallery I was in, I was in alone — until one other person came in. I sort of glanced in that person’s direction, as one does, and it hit me that the person was a woman, a tall woman. And then I remembered that this woman had asked a question at the end of Sendak’s talk, and that in his reply he referred to her as “my friend in the back” (which made all the rest of us turn around to see who it was, of course)… and then I froze, solid.
I was in a small room, surrounded by great works of art, alone with Sigourney Weaver.
I wanna say, I about passed out on the spot. The Missus (ironic eyebrows and all) has long gotten used to my infatuation with Ms. Weaver. But in any case, I have come to think of this not as “the time I saw heard Maurice Sendak speak,” but “the time I saw Sigourney Weaver from, like, ten freaking feet away.”
So much for my pretenses to be, like, all literary and stuff.
[...] built of informality — I’d probably be too tongue-tied to make much of the meeting. (I’ve already blown my chance for simple, innocent conversation with Sigourney [...]