Somehow, everyone thought the family doctor was the only one would could be consulted, so Chukovsky wound up on a train in the middle of the night with that poor kid, age like four or something, sick and moaning. It’s like cops planting weed in people’s cars.)Ĭhukovsky’s backstory is pleasant. (Of course, like with everything else, you can carry whatever point you like into his books and then pretend you found it there. His stuff is a lot like Green Eggs and Ham: about that long rhymes bouncing around like popcorn no real point in sight. Number of supremo-supremo classic children’s books to his credit: ten or twelve. Same deal as ours, except his hot decade wasn’t the fifties it was the twenties. Seuss? Does Thailand? ’Cuz if they do, I need to know about it. One wants to know: Does Botswana have a Dr. Consequently, if I’m in a used bookstore and I see a book called Thai Children’s Poetry or Setswana Children’s Poetry or Inuit Children’s Poetry, I pretty much buy it on contact. She doesn’t care whether what you’re doing “serves as a useful critique.” She wants it to be good. The minute you bring a six-year-old into the picture, though, everything changes. Or it can “bear witness.” Being good-actually good-is even considered a little passé. My teacher’s point was that art made in the modern world is under scarcely any obligation to be good. I was taught this concept in connection to medieval lyric poetry. Let me tell you something about children’s poetry: people tend to create it for the right reasons.
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