(art: Maurice Sendak)
I know Where The Wild Things Are, the seminal children’s classic by Maurice Sendak, but only from a distance. I can still picture it on the shelf of my school’s library, and in the hands of my classmates, sometimes tucked under their arm, in a clasp of love and possession. I think they all must have read it (those that could read) at some point or another, but not me. I can’t say this with any kind of certainty, since i didn’t keep a running diary of my weekly reading choices at the time, but I do know that if at some point in my youth or childhood I checked out Where The Wild Things Are it didn’t make a lasting impression on me the way it did on the seemingly millions of other who cherish the story of young Max and his journey to the imaginary land where beasts and monsters roam in search of a sovereign.
Even as a teacher I never picked up the book to see what all the fuss is about, mainly because the fuss was never a big fuss: the book was just sort of there, a hold over from my youth, like The Hat In The Hat and Where The Sidewalk Ends, perennial library staples that just never seemed to get weeded out in the regularly scheduled book purges that would see Congo Boy expelled for being derogatory and racist. The fuss started recently with word that Spike Jonze was directing a live action version of the movie, and that’s what really peaked my interest in the book. Karen O of the Yeah Yeah Yeahs and a choir of children are responsible for the movie’s glorious soundtrack. The infectious “All Is Love’ is worth the cost of the CD alone, but you’ll find that all of the music is distilled down to its purest elements–joy, wonder, and youthful exuberance–thereby offering listeners an escape back in time, to an age where the only limits were your own imagination and bedtime.
I have a nephew now, the closest thing I’ll ever come to being a parent myself, and as much as I want to bring to him some of the defining elements of my childhood, I’m also keenly aware that there was so much I missed out on because of factors that were unavoidable as a child of immigrants, but irrelevant in the grand scheme of things. It’s never too late to go back. At 36 years or 36 months, the allure of the wild rumpus is the same, and so is knowing that your dinner will be ready for you when it’s over.
Where The Wild Things Are is in theatres this Friday.
MP3: Karen O and the Kids “All Is Love”
Myspace: Where The Wild Things Are
1 Comment so far
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I see Where the Wild Things Are as more of an art film than a children’s film.
Comment by edwin sanchez 10.16.09 @ 12:18 amLeave a comment
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