Wednesday, March 4, 2009

The Dead Bird

I know I just posted a few hours ago, but I have to write about this. I picked it up from the library today. Certainly not for B, who just this morning was highly disturbed by Beatrix Potter's Mr. Jeremy Fisher eating a butterfly sandwich, but for myself. I've always loved the strangeness of Margaret Wise Brown's stories, and as a mother have come to depend on it for sanity in the saccharine world of picture books. This one is amazing. The words are so lovely, melancholy and reverent, innocent and a little horrifying. It reminds me that her's is the name that escapes the mind whenever I'm asked that age old question about dining with any person, living or dead.

"The children felt with
their fingers for the quick beat of the bird's
heart in its breast. But there was no heart
beating. That was how they knew it was dead."

I'd like to try my hand at a few illustrations to this story. I think it could lead somewhere wonderful.

Tia - this book has made my freezer feel unbearably empty. I find myself quite covetous of your teal wing.


  1. oh. bring this with you tomorrow. i may have found my mom's mother's day gift. say, wrapped in a box with the teal wing? you are better than google.

  2. I love it, except the illustrations leave something to be desired. You should do the above plus an A. Flores original illustration. Also because I'd love a partner in crime. But who am I kidding, when have you NOT been my partner in crime?