{"id":2281,"date":"2012-01-22T00:01:52","date_gmt":"2012-01-22T06:01:52","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=2281"},"modified":"2012-01-23T12:09:46","modified_gmt":"2012-01-23T18:09:46","slug":"7-imps-7-kicks-265-featuring-bernard-waberand-a-moment-with-r-gregory-christie","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"http:\/\/blaine.org\/sevenimpossiblethings\/?p=2281","title":{"rendered":"7-Imp’s 7 Kicks #265: Featuring Bernard Waber
(and a Moment with R. Gregory Christie)"},"content":{"rendered":"

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Look here. It’s Lyle. And he’s fifty years old now. (He can kick, he can shimmy … oh wait, it’s another annoying Saturday Night Live<\/em> reference. I have one of those for everything in life.)<\/p>\n

First off, for anyone who may be reading who is not a fellow picture book junkie, here’s a Lyle 101: Lyle, the crocodile, debuted in 1962 in author\/illustrator Bernard Waber’s The House on East 88th Street<\/a><\/strong><\/em>. This book was followed in 1965 by Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile<\/a><\/strong><\/em>, probably the most famous Lyle book, and a total of eight books exist in the series. <\/p>\n

All the books concern the Primm family, Mr. and Mrs. Joseph F. Primm and their son Joshua, who moved into this house on East 88th street only to find a crocodile in their bathtub. “The next moment found them flying off in different directions,” screaming a lot. Suddenly, an “oddly dressed man” appeared at the door with the note pictured above. Lyle is an artist? He’s gentle? <\/p>\n


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“‘Oh, to think this could happen on East 88th Street. Whatever will we do with him?’
Suddenly, before anyone could think of a worthy answer, there was Lyle.”<\/em>
— From The House on East 88th Street<\/em>, originally published in 1962<\/center><\/p>\n

Sure enough, the family falls for Lyle, who is tremendously helpful around the home, and even the entire town falls for him. Hector P. Valenti (star of stage and screen), however, returns to fetch his crocodile. As you can imagine, there are many tears on the part of the family and even Lyle, due to this arrangement, which all leads to another note at a later date from Hector P. Valenti (star of stage and screen), saying that he is “sick of crocodiles,” not to mention the tears of crocodiles, and that he will return with the creature. A happy reunion occurs. The end. <\/p>\n


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— From Lyle and the Birthday Party<\/em>, originally published in 1966<\/center><\/p>\n

Or not really, as noted above. More books followed, and some are collected into a new volume from Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile Storybook Treasury<\/a><\/strong><\/em>, which celebrates Lyle’s grand birthday. (It won’t be released till March, I think, and I apologize for going on about a book so early. I swear, it’s challenging to blog in January, as many of these books don’t come out till a couple months down the road.) The collection includes The House on East 88th Street<\/em> and Lyle, Lyle, Crocodile<\/em>, as well as Lyle and the Birthday Party<\/a><\/strong><\/em>. <\/p>\n

Along to celebrate is Waber himself, who penned the book’s introduction (and who “had no idea or even dreamed that Lyle would survive after fifty years”), writing that he loves drawing crocodiles (“[t]heir infinite bumps and ridges”) and explaining how his pull to children’s books began with reading to his own three children:<\/p>\n

We were fixtures at the library, always coming home with mountains of books, which were devoured huddled on the living room floor or during our more often extended bedtime readings fests. My children discovered pleasure in literature and art. Hearing the sound and rhythm of words, marveling at the creations of master illustrators, and struck by the gleeful anticipation of embarking on journeys of imagination ignited in me a powerful need to write and illustrate picture books.<\/p><\/blockquote>\n


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“When he discovered where they were, he particularly enjoyed amusing the children. ‘More, more,’ they called as Lyle danced, leaped,
did handstands, headstands, and somersaulted about.”<\/em>
— Another illustration from Lyle and the Birthday Party<\/em> (1966)<\/center><\/p>\n

It was then that Waber decided to major in art at Philadelphia’s University of the Arts, while simultaneously working as a designer in Life<\/em> magazine’s art department. <\/p>\n

This volume also includes (at the book’s close) Lyle Walks the Dogs<\/a><\/strong><\/em>, a counting book, originally published in 2010 and illustrated by his daughter, Paulis Waber. <\/p>\n

And Waber also notes in the book’s introduction that a ninth Lyle<\/em> title is on its way. This is a kick, indeed. <\/p>\n

Happy birthday to Lyle … and many more. <\/p>\n

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* * * * * * *<\/center><\/p>\n

LYLE, LYLE, CROCODILE STORYBOOK TREASURY.<\/em> Copyright \u00a9 2012 by Bernard Waber with Paulis Waber. Reproduced by permission of the publisher, Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, New York.<\/em><\/p>\n

R. Gregory Christie for MTA Arts for Transit (c) 2011.<\/em><\/p>\n

* * * * * * *<\/center><\/p>\n

Note for any new readers: 7-Imp\u2019s 7 Kicks is a weekly meeting ground for taking some time to reflect on Seven(ish) Exceptionally Fabulous, Beautiful, Interesting, Hilarious, or Otherwise Positive Noteworthy Things from the past week, whether book-related or not, that happened to you.<\/p>\n

* * * Jules’ Kicks * * *<\/strong><\/font>
<\/center><\/p>\n

1)<\/strong><\/font> First and foremost, I cannot flippin’ wait to hear the ALA Youth Media Awards announcements<\/a><\/strong> tomorrow morning. But, in particular, I’m eager to hear the Caldecott announcement. I’ve got my calendar marked, I’m sure it’ll have me leaping out of bed*, and I’ll have coffee in hand, watching obsessively. <\/p>\n

{*Only something like the Caldecott announcement would have me leaping out of bed. Generally, I subscribe to this notion<\/a><\/strong>, and it’s best if I don’t speak actual words till I’ve had my coffee.}<\/p>\n

2)<\/strong><\/font> R. Gregory Christie<\/a><\/strong> recently told me all about this artwork, which I love and want to, in turn, tell you about. It’s for NYC’s subway train system and will be up for twelve months (February to February). Anyone who commutes by subway, Greg told me, will no doubt see it (over one billion people, thank you very much). The art will become part of the Transit Museum’s<\/a><\/strong> permanent collection. (Here’s<\/a><\/strong> a link to a gift shop poster, if anyone’s interested. You can see there that Sophie Blackall<\/a><\/strong> did some art as well.)<\/p>\n

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(Click to enlarge and see up close and in more detail)<\/em><\/center><\/p>\n

3)<\/strong><\/font> I can’t even begin to say<\/em> how much good music is in this post<\/a><\/strong>. Just treat yourself and go listen, if you’re so inclined to hear some great blues. <\/p>\n

4)<\/strong><\/font> Matthew Cordell’s<\/a><\/strong> Another Brother<\/a><\/strong><\/em> makes me laugh very hard, but more on that soon, as he’ll stop by for a breakfast interview this week. <\/p>\n

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5)<\/strong><\/font> I’m going to maybe embarrass John E. Simpson<\/a><\/strong> (kicker extraordinaire) here, but every time I get behind on blog-reading—a reality in my life, now that I’ve been working on my own book—and then go and scramble and read my favorite blogs and their recent posts in one big gulp, I stop and marvel at his Friday poetry posts<\/a><\/strong> (in particular, though all his posts are good). He pulls together the most powerful stuff (sometimes powerfully moving, sometimes powerfully funny) into one spot, and reading it is like pausing to give yourself a gift in your day. (I think I’ve said this many times before, but it always bears repeating.) Case-in-point: He recently posted this wonderful poem<\/a><\/strong>. <\/p>\n

6)<\/strong><\/font> “However tactile.”<\/p>\n

Nicholas Fehn returned to SNL<\/em> recently. This character makes me laugh. Of course, now every time I start a sentence and start zigzagging with asides, which I can be so guilty of, I think of how I sound like him and then I just start laughing in my own head. <\/p>\n