As mothers across the country get to sleep in a little longer and get a little extra pampering on Sunday – Mother’s Day – many of them may do so with a touch of sadness.
Maurice Sendak, author of that marvellous children’s book, Where the Wild Things Are, passed away this week. Mothers everywhere – and fathers as well – will recall, with a smile on their faces, the many magical moments they spent with their children reading Sendak’s books, especially Wild Things and the miniature Nutshell Library.
To anyone who’s ever read his books, the two unforgettable main characters are Max, the disobedient little boy sent to bed without his supper who then used his imagination to create his own world, and Pierre, who just didn’t care. And so his mother left him there.
Parents everywhere could be thankful for Sendak’s books and the lessons they taught. Like those of Dr. Seuss, his books stirred the imagination of children and parents alike. Many of today’s parents devoured his books as children themselves and now eagerly read to their own children and grandkids.
And they all remember the foul-tempered Pierre (every child who has tired of shopping with Mom) – who finally did learn to care, after being eaten by a lion that then falls ill and spits him out – and Max, who reminded parents of the pain of childhood, the fears, the frustrations, but also their pure, vivid imagination that carried them through so many difficult moments.
Max was every two-year-old whose mischief got him sent to his room for a ‘time-out,’ only to go on a magical journey into a forest inhabited by ferocious wild creatures who make him king of all wild things.
Written in 1963, it’s 48 pages long but contains only 12 sentences. But what a tale those 12 sentences tell. Children were fascinated, perhaps even frightened for a bit. Parents reading it for the first time wondered about the wisdom of taking their children on this journey. It’s dark, it’s scary and to youngsters it may seem real.
But parents figured it out. It’s a tale that deals with themes that are real to children – the consequences of misbehaviour and the fears that can arise when you are alone, lonely, and those you love aren’t right there to offer comfort and security.
It offered a world that parents controlled in how we read the words, how we described the monsters, how we interacted with our children as they stared in amazement, sometimes anxious and fearful, while we took them on this journey.
It is one of the great joys of having children, and then grandchildren, that adults can lose themselves in the tale they loved as children, while discovering or creating new nuggets while reading to their children.
We all grew up with monsters in the closet or under the bed. Max got to live and play with the monsters that lurked in the darkness of his room. And he learned, like all children hearing the story, that while being king of the wild kings can be fun and exciting, in the end it can’t replace being a son or daughter.
As 11-year-old Matthew Rushford said. “He let kids know that it’s OK to sometimes be a wild thing. A lot of kids want to escape when they’re in trouble. My favourite part was how Max grows up after his adventure and returns home to find his dinner waiting for him.”
His dinner is still warm, as every mother would have it, knowing her child would be both remorseful and hungry. And as mothers enjoy their day on Sunday, they may remember – as Sendak’s books remind us – we get older, we may grow, but we never really grow up.
