The Outer Darkness is a Delicacy!

The Monster Who Ate Darkness

by Joyce Dunbar; illustrated by Jimmy Liao

Cambridge, Mass. : Candlewick Press, 2008.

Move over, Shoggoth, here comes... The Monster Who Ate Darkness is a charming tale about a horrible little creature from under a little boy's bed, who eats all of the darkness in the universe, leaving nothing but a wasteland of stark, unforgiving light in its wake. Thankfully, the story has a happy ending, but not until many adorable tears have been shed.

Jo-Jo is terrified of darkness, fearing that there are monsters lurking in the shadows and beneath his bed. Naturally there is one; just a speck of a thing who is cute and cuddly and not at all terrifying when we first meet him. The Monster is hungry, and soon discovers that the only thing that will satisfy his appetite is darkness (note: "darkness sandwiches" = best lunch ever). So he does Jo-Jo a favor, and starts devouring all the darkness in the room.

You got nothin'!

However, his hunger is so immense that he ends up eating all the darkness, everywhere, disrupting the natural order of things and leaving all the animals confused. The monster becomes lonely, lost on a far planet in the stark light of an empty universe, until he hears Jo-Jo weeping in the distance, unable to sleep for lack of darkness. The monster returns to the boy, and holds him, singing him a "darkness lullaby" (which I imagine must sound something like this). As the darkness oozes out of a cone in his head, he shrinks back down as Jo-Jo falls asleep in his arms, until finally the story closes with the boy sleeping with the now-tiny monster nestled in his arms.

This story can be appreciated on a number of psychological levels. For one, it turns nighttime into an adventure; still full of monsters, but comforting in its own way. So, definitely a bedtime story for the kids who don't want to stop believing, but still need a decent night's sleep. The monster isn't evil, just hungry and oblivious, which makes his antics adorable even as he pulls the stars down from the sky. Jo-Jo, meanwhile, restores the natural order of things by embracing his inner darkness (thus, a supervillain is born! haha...). The illustrations are equally enchanting, in many ways telling a story all their own. Artist Jimmy Liao has a talent for drawing the cute with the horrible in the same breath, and the monster is truly a blend of both as he transforms from a kittenish little mite to a bloated monstrosity (also cute), and back again.

A Little Like This...

---

On a side note, I came across this interesting quote from the Q&A section on Joyce Dunbar's website:

"There's also too much cuteness for my liking. I write cute stories myself but this reflects what publishers accept rather than my range as a writer. But this really is a golden age of children's books and you can't expect to publish only the best."

This is part of Dunbar's response to a question about whether she had any complaints as a writer, about publishing and about being a children's author. I personally feel that it speaks to the sort of stories we like to talk about, here at SB/SC; things that break out of the mold, and might be a little frightening, provocative or challenging than what we typically find on the children's shelves of libraries and bookstores, things that are thrilling, and maybe a little more dangerous than cute.

More Dangerous than Cute

The things that make a story compelling are not always things that are comforting, and I worry at times that many of us shy too quickly from introduction our children (or the children around us) to fear in tiny doses. Not that I think we should go around scaring the tuna salad out of toddlers just to see them cry, but an important element in facing fear is the consequential feeling of empowerment we are left with afterwards, once we realize that we have outlived our momentary fear and become stronger for its passing. Children learn more than mere vocabulary from the stories we give them, they learn to live with complexity, ambiguity, distress; and in the end, maybe, they learn to sleep at night by holding the things they were once terrified of closest to their hearts.

PS: If you're looking for more about The Monster Who Ate Darkness, there's a great, thought-provoking review in The New York Times. Enjoy!

Tails, You're It

The Tailypo: A Ghost Story
Told by Joanna C. Galdone
Sandpiper, 1984

Using a misappropriated or a stolen item to build the suspense in a story is a common one in scary books for youth. A character either purposely or unwittingly comes into possession of an item, article, or appendage and the rightful owner of said item, article, or appendage slowly but certainly seeks revenge. Sometimes this revenge is with not so savory results. This storytelling framework is the one employed in a classic children’s scary picture book called The Tailypo: A Ghost Story. Whether or not this is an actual ghost story or just a scary story (for I feel the creature seeking its tail is not necessarily a ghost) can be debated, but nonetheless, this is a smooth and suspenseful tale for young schoolchildren.

The story opens with a lone woodsy cabin. We meet our main character, an elderly man, who lives a hermit-like existence deep in the forest with his three hounds. He lives simply and self-sufficiently. He seems to be a worn out shadow of a once rugged woodsman, the type that is honest, not inclined to superstition, and hearty to the core. After he hears a strange creature in the woods and scratching outside, and eventually in his own cabin, the woodsman strikes out to abolish the creature but instead only cuts off the creature's tail; his tailypo. From this point onward the tale crescendos with the creature calling out in a spooky verse for his tailypo until we fall upon a silent, yet telling scene in the final pages.

The Tailypo is a classic example of a spooky American folktale. The setting, the characters, the tone, and the illustrations are evocative of Appalachia or the Tetons. The rhythm of the tale makes it a great read aloud and storytelling piece. I would venture to guess, since versions of this story have been told for decades, that the first author of this tail didn't see Zombieland. The rules created by Columbus for zombie invasions definitely apply here. Had our woodsman executed rule #4, the doubletap, on our frightening critter instead of just chopping off his tale we would end up with a cheerful woodsman donning a tailypo skin cap and lounging with his hounds instead of an empty cabin and a possibly still at large demonic being roaming the forested mountain range. Well, in any event, it is a delightful little spooky story.

Our Eyes Glow in the Dark... with Love!

While You are Sleeping

by Alexis Deacon

New York : Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2006

The imagery in While You are Sleeping gives me what I can only describe as warm chills. The inside cover flap is papered over with your standard (normally innocuous) collection of toys and stuffed animals, except that some of them appear to be floating creepily, and they are all staring directly at you. The vague sense of friendly dread this imagery instills is a great emotional summary of the rest of the book, which has a touching, even heartwarming story even as it is subliminally unnerving.

The story itself is touching, and multilayered. On surface it is a story of reassurance, a letter written in the second person to a child from her toys. They stay awake, protecting you from nighttime terrors as you sleep. Of course, the idea of all my toys coming to life when I was a kid, even to protect me from things I was afraid of, would itself have inspired fear. On top of this, there is a story of indoctrination; there is a new toy (the cuddliest little lion), who must pass muster to remain part of the group. He does, of course, but what would they have done if he failed? I shudder to think.

This book sits in a position of delightful ambiguity. Though I have called attention to the strangeness of it, I should also make clear that the characters are endearing, in a soft and understated way. The illustrations are very warm, with a classic fuzzyness that makes you want to give them all a hug. Overall, this book is absolutely perfect for reading under a blanket, with a flashlight, just before bed. Just try not to look to closely at the eyes, glowing golden in the night...

She's Tough. She's Brave. She's 75.

The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid Of Anything

by Linda Williams

Illustrations by Megan Lloyd

Harper Collins, 1986

The weather is cooling, which means fall is in our midst. This is my favorite time, with pumpkins on my balcony, gourds on my counter, walking my dog in the graveyard across the street to see the colors, and harvest stories and scary tales leading up to Halloween. For the little ones just getting into the spirit of the season and spooky tales, here is a friendly yarn about a gallant granny and a pumpkin head spook.

The Little Old Lady Who Was Not Afraid of Anything is a story that focuses around a brave little woman and a scary entity she meets in the woods on her way home from collecting seeds and herbs. Having walked a little too far to gather wild nuts and seeds, it is a dark and lonely walk back home for the little old woman. As often happens on these scary solo treks, she happens upon frightening figures. She first meets a suspicious pair of animated shoes, then pants, then a shaking shirt, on and on until she meets the frightening piece de resistance, a great and ghoulish pumpkin head. The culmination of the creepy clothing and the putrid pumpkin head put quite a fright in the once brave old woman and she runs home. When the being comes knocking on her door later that night readers will see how even a horrible scare can rejuvenate one’s bravery and even instill some creativity and ingenuity.

I chose this story for its simple style. It is just the right length for afternoon reading time at home or morning story time for preschoolers in class or at the library. This book focuses around the common motif of visibly constructing the story line as the plot rolls along. This is a useful tactic in picture books for pre-readers because it allows them to make predictions about what comes next. It reminds me of the story the Old Woman and Her Pig or the The Teeth in the way the events crescendo into the climax. The repetition of the events in the story help support a child’s ability to see how parts of a story relate together and it gets them excited about what will happen at the end. “Two shoes go clomp, clomp, and one pair of pants go wiggle, wiggle.” “Two shoes go clomp, clomp, and one pair of pants go wiggle, wiggle, and the shirt went shake, shake.” This type of storytelling allows children to remember the events more clearly and also to participate in the story telling with the “clomp, clomp” and the “wiggle, wiggle” type verse. The illustrations in this book are stylistically simple and as such, fit in very appropriately with the text. Despite the fact that mostly simple lines and primary colors are used, the artwork pops. The tone of the illustrations is not too frightening for a young audience. Overall this is a nice quick reading little picture book.