Where the Wild Things Are
is one of those truly rare books that can be enjoyed equally by a child and a grown-up. If you disagree, then it's been too long since you've attended a wild rumpus. Max dons his wolf suit in pursuit of some mischief and gets sent to bed without supper. Fortuitously, a forest grows in his room, allowing his wild rampage to continue unimpaired. Sendak's color illustrations (perhaps his finest) are beautiful, and each turn of the page brings the discovery of a new wonder.
The wild things--with their mismatched parts and giant eyes--manage somehow to be scary-looking without ever really being scary; at times they're downright hilarious. Sendak's defiantly run-on sentences--one of his trademarks--lend the perfect touch of stream of consciousness to the tale, which floats between the land of dreams and a child's imagination.
This Sendak classic is more fun than you've ever had in a wolf suit, and it manages to reaffirm the notion that there's no place like home.
--This text refers to the
"Each word has been carefully chosen and the simplicity of the language is quite deceptive." -- -- SLJ.
"Each word has been carefully chosen and the simplicity of the language is quite deceptive." -- SLJ.
"The clearer reproductions of the original art are vibrant and luminous [in this edition]." -- -- H.
"The clearer reproductions of the original art are vibrant and luminous [in this edition]." -- H.