This is a lovely book. One of those ones I got from the library for Olivia and just revisited with Bodhi. Check it out if you're looking. Beautiful pictures and atmosphere. All about children's imagination and also attitude to nature and wildness.
And for older kids, There's Toby Alone. It's written by a French man as you can see but it's seamlessly translated by someone who married into the Ardizzone family. A name that holds warmth for any reader of children's books. A smooth translation is a beautiful thing.
It's beautifully illustrated and a little bit scary - I got it for Olivia who's just reading her first ever grown up book. I don't remember learning to read, but it seems magic to me, how the words just started popping in this last year, and now she's reading the BFG, the book that my friend got her for my baby shower - as she said when Olivia walked into the kitchen reading it, here we are, suddenly it's seven years later. Bang.
But it fills me with pride, and delight, and happiness for her, that this wonderful world of fiction has just opened up to her. Oh, the places she'll go!
4 comments:
It must fill you with joy.
I remember,as a preschooler, looking at my mother's cookbook and thinking that i would never be able to read it. And then, I remember being surprised, not long after I started school, that I understood what those complex symbols actually meant.
3:14 am? Sounds like we're on similar clocks. Until tomorrow. Actually, then too probably.
I wish Jack would get on with falling in love with reading. He's going to Primary 2 soon and still hasn't twigged. I try and keep still, not interfere, but it's hard. All in good time.
No, ignore the blog clock, it's not mine, I only just posted that. Was fast fast asleep at that stage last night!
I think 7 is when they read, generally, my godmother, whose children are all brilliant, said they all started then, despite any other efforts.
Yes. The magic of the written word. Oh my. The world just cracks right open.
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