We Remember Maurice Sendak

Listening to NPR on the way to work this morning, I was saddened to hear the announcement of the death of Maurice Sendak at 83, apparently of complications of a recent stroke.  My first thought was, "Oh, that's too bad!", followed closely by the second, "I need to put up a display of his books!" (Such is the mind of the children's librarian...)

For most people, I imagine that the mention of Sendak's name evokes memories of his most popular work, Where the Wild Things Are. Written in 1964, it earned him the Caldecott Medal for the most distinguished acheivement in children's picture books that year.  In a climate of children's literature featuring mostly staid little boys and girls doing what they were told, Where the Wild Things Are portrayed a young boy, Max, creating a world of his own after being punished and sent to his room.  Large, menacing and pretty scary-looking, Max's wild things allow him to lead the wild rumpus as he explores his creative, messy, emotional side. Considered ground-breaking at the time of its publication, this book has gone on to be one of the most requested by children and their parents to this day.  If you haven't read it in a while, I suggest you take another look at it.  

The Sendak works that I have always enjoyed are the lesser known small books of the Nutshell Library, which were featured in Sendak's theatrical production, Really Rosie in the mid-1970s.  Set to music by Carole King, these little gems included Chicken Soup with Rice, Pierre, One Was Johnny and Alligators All Around.  When I think Sendak, I hear the refrain "...I don't care" repeated over and over by a nonchalent Pierre.

Sendak was not afraid to delve into the reality of being a child.  His characters are ordinary-looking kids, trying to navigate a frequently scary and incomprensible world.  In the Night Kitchen, which tells the story of another little boy, Mickey, having an imaginary adventure, is still frequently challenged due to the youngster's nudity.

In addition to writing children's books, Sendak created opera and ballet productions for the theater and television. In 2003 he collaborated with playwright Tony Kushner to publish a book and an opera called Brundibar — a story about children in the Holocaust. But as he told an NPR reporter in 1993, all his works were about the same thing, "Children surviving childhood is my obsessive theme and my life's concern." We are all the better for his efforts.  He will be missed.

I'm sure most people have their favorite Sendak title or memory of enjoying his books as children or with their own children.  Let us know in the comments section which Sendak book is your favorite.