They Killed Him with Kindness. Literally.

Trying to find the stories behind old books can be frustrating.

In today’s world, authors are as close as a click of a mouse. They blog and vlog and Twitter. Some even chart their day-by-day writing progress on the web. But this is a recent development. Authors used to work in near-isolation and the stories of how and why they created their books were often never shared. If you try to track down that information today, you may only find a vague reference in an article...a sentence from a speech...a line from an interview....

Sometimes you only uncover half of a story.

But sometimes half a story is all you need to know.

Joseph Krumgold burst into the field of children’s books with ...AND NOW MIGUEL. This story of a New Mexico boy growing up in a family of sheep herders won the 1954 Newbery Medal. At the time Mr. Krumgold accepted the award he was already working on ONION JOHN -- probably never dreaming that his second effort would also win the Newbery in 1960, making him the first author to ever win that award twice.

These days ONION JOHN is not considered one of the great Newbery choices -- especially since two of that year’s Honor Books, THE GAMMAGE CUP by Carol Kendall and MY SIDE OF THE MOUNTAIN by Jean Craighead George -- have gone on to become classics. But I loved ONION JOHN as a kid. Today, however, I can see some of its flaws; I am not the first to note that its narrator, twelve-year-old Andy Rusch, serves more as an observer than a participant -- and that it’s actually Andy’s father who changes and grows during the course of the novel. Still, Joseph Krumgold gets a lot right. He knows how boys think and feel and act and his themes of father-son conflict, identity, communication, self-determination, and “good intentions gone wrong” are strong and timeless. The novel is set in the small All-American town of Serenity, New Jersey, where young Andy's father runs the local hardware store. Mr. Rusch has big plans for his son's future (MIT, space travel) while Andy would be satisfied to just take over the hardware store someday. Andy becomes friends with Onion John, an eccentric European immigrant "well along in years" who believes in superstitions and lives in a run-down hut on Hessian Hill. When Mr. Rusch visits this hovel, he decides that his Rotary Club will take on Onion John as their next "project," building him a new house so he can "live like the rest of us." Serenity proclaims "Onion John Day" and, quicker than an episode of television's EXTREME MAKEOVER, the townspeople build and furnish a house for this loner. The very next day, Onion John -- not understanding modern technology -- fills his stove with newspaper to light it, turns on the switch, and ends up burning the house down. When the local citizens decide to rebuild this home, Onion John leaves town rather than accept a life of conformity. He just wants to be left alone.

Critic Carolyn Horovitz could not fully accept the characterization of Onion John, finding him "a personification of an abstraction." With his superstitions, spellcasting, and nonchalant attitude toward work, he does appear to be the archetypal "free spirit" of fiction.

That's why I was surprised to learn that Onion John was a real person and that most of the events in the book actually happened.

In fact, Joseph Krumgold's original manuscript referred to the town by its real name: Belvidere, New Jersey. Amazingly, Krumgold also called all the characters by their real-life names! It wasn't until his publisher expressed a concern about lawsuits that Belvidere became "Serenity" and the names of the characters were fictionalized.

Much of the plot is true as well. Apparently the town of Belvidere really did adopt their local eccentric and he was "treated with loving kindness in a way that [distorted] his values. He [was] destroyed by the love of this town."

You see, in real life Onion John did not escape injury when his new house caught on fire. Instead, his misuse of the electric stove caused an explosion that cost him his life.

The people of Belvidere took up a collection to bury him.

The publication of ONION JOHN several years later caused local citizens to remember him again. Joseph Krumgold recalled:

On Christmas Day in the morning, I got a phone call from a very fine gentleman who runs the furniture store. He said, "I've been reading that book you wrote. We never bought him a headstone." I thought, The story starts all over. We're going to raise enough money and buy him a headstone, and we're going to have an "Onion John Day." By God, that's what they did as soon as the frost was off the ground! I was an honored guest at the ceremony....

When I read that anecdote, I immediately set about doing more research. Who was this "Onion John" that Joseph Krumgold wrote about? Are there stories in old New Jersey newspapers about the Rotary Club building his house? Are there stories about his accidental death? Was the headstone ceremony covered in the media? I began looking for interviews with the author and then scouring the internet for details. The only thing I found was a brief comment from a man whose mother and aunt knew the real Onion John and once showed him the remains of Onion John's ill-fated house. I pictured myself someday taking a trip to Belvidere, New Jersey and looking for those remains myself. I pictured myself wandering through the local cemetery and coming across a fancy tombstone, perhaps ornamented with a sculpted onion on top, commemorating "John Claiblin, AKA Onion John." I wondered if the headstone would contain any words about the man or the role that the townspeople -- with only the best of intentions -- played in his death.

But then I began thinking...if Joseph Krumgold changed the names of the people involved in this story, it's quite possible that "Onion John" is a made-up name as well. Perhaps he was really called "Onion Jack" or "Onion Bill." Maybe it wasn't an onion at all. Maybe he was known as "Pumpkin Paul" or "Lettuce Tom," in which case I could wander Belvidere's cemeteries for days, walking right past headstones with carved pumpkins or heads of lettuce on top.

This is why I say that finding the stories behind old books is frustrating. If the book ONION JOHN was published today, we'd most likely know a lot about the true story that inspired it. But since it was published back in 1959, all we really know today is that Onion John -- if that was his real name -- actually lived in a place called Belvidere, New Jersey and that Joseph Krumgold memorialized him in a book. We only know half the story.

But maybe that's just as well. The character in the book just wanted to be left alone by do-gooders and nosy-parkers and concerned citizens. And I suspect his real-life counterpart wouldn't want a children's book blogger rushing into Belvidere, unspooling microfilms of old newspapers and tramping through muddy cemeteries looking for ornate onions and polished pewter pumpkins affixed to tombstones. He's probably buried under a modest stone that simply says "Rest in Peace." And I suspect that's the way he would have wanted it.


ONION JOHN
Written by Joseph Krumgold
Illustrated by Symeon Shimin
Crowell, 1959

Why the book is collectable:

It won the Newbery Medal -- Krumgold’s second.

First edition points:

Bound in red cloth with black printing on spine.

White paper endpapers.

The dustjacket has a price of $3.00 on the front flap.

The backpanel of the dustjacket contains reviews of ...AND NOW MIGUEL.

The copyright page includes the words “FIRST PRINTING.”

Difficulty in finding first editions:

The book is not as difficult to find as many other Newbery winners, perhaps it had a larger-than-normal print-run due to the success of ...AND NOW MIGUEL. It is also not a hugely-popular novel. Nice first editions can often be found for as low as $50 to $75.

Arts and Sciences

They say that the study of science opens up a world of possibilities.

I suppose that's true, but I have to admit I didn't enjoy my high school science class.

The teacher was a sterotype: bowtie, pocket protector, thick glasses, eyebrows permanently singed from leaning over Bunsen burners.

My lab partners were freaky. The girl on my left enjoyed dissection way too much and was prone to gleefully shouting out, “This frog’s guts look just like the inside of an eggroll!” The boy on my right kept stealing beakers and test tubes from the equipment locker because “my brother can use this stuff in his meth lab, man.”

Halfway through the semester I dropped Science and started working in the school library during that period.

Considering my teenage apathy for the subject, you may be surprised to learn that whenever I visit a used bookstore these days I invariably make a beeline for the science section. (And speaking of bees, did you know that scientists still don't know exactly how bumblebees are able to fly? No, I didn't learn that in biology class; I got that from the Robert Cormier novel THE BUMBLEBEE FLIES ANYWAY. Once again, literature trumps science.) The reason I rush to the science shelves is that I'm hoping to find a copy of this book:


Most old science textbooks are virtually worthless, yet 1947's ATOMICS FOR THE MILLIONS is highly valued by children's book collectors. A true first edition (identified by its herringbone-patterned endpapers, price of $3.50 on both front and back flaps of the dustjacket, and notice on the copyright page stating “The quality of the materials used in the manufacture of this book is governed by continued postwar shortages") of ATOMICS FOR THE MILLIONS can be sold FOR THE THOUSANDS. I've seen copies priced as high as $1500.

What makes this book so valuable? Is it because the lead author, Dr. Maxwell Leigh Eidenoff, was part of the Atomic Bomb Project at Columbia University and the University of Chicago?

No, it has more to do with the fact that its co-author, Hyman Ruchlis, was a science teacher at Brooklyn’s Lafayette High School.

While working on the book, Mr. Ruchlis asked one of his students at Lafayette High, a gifted young artist, if he would provide the illustrations for the volume. The student agreed to do the artwork in exchange for $100 and -- now here’s a kid after my own heart -- a passing grade in class.

This kid also got his name on the title page:


ATOMICS FOR THE MILLIONS was the first-ever book illustrated by Maurice Sendak. He was only nineteen when it was published and it would be another four years before he illustrated his first children's book, THE WONDERFUL FARM by Marcel Aymé. Since that time, of course, Maurice Sendak (WHERE THE WILD THINGS ARE; IN THE NIGHT KITCHEN) has become one of the premiere children's book creators of our time.

Is it any wonder that so many book collectors want a copy of Mr. Sendak's very first published work...even though it is a science textbook? Here is his debut illustration from Chapter One of ATOMICS -- and chapter one of his career:


Reportedly, Mr. Sendak wasn't happy with his illustrations for this volume (he later inscribed one copy of the book with the phrase, "My first + worst") and it clearly is the work of a young artist -- a little primitive, a little messy and unpolished, but also bursting with enthusiasm, talent, and unfettered creativity.

It's fascinating to look at the wide array of illustration styles Maurice Sendak employed in these pages. In fact, it's easy to imagine the young artist going off in any number of career directions after finishing this book.

He could have specialized in portraiture or caricature:


He could have illustrated nonfiction and historical novels:


(Incidentally, you can click on any of these pictures to supersize them.)

He could have gotten into advertising illustration:


(And what a far cry those bunnies are from the rabbit he later drew for Meindert DeJong's SHADRACH!)

He could have illustrated funny middle-grade fiction:


Or worked in comic books:


This one looks like a panel from a newspaper comic strip:


And of course he could have continued illustrating science and technical books:


Or branched out into animation:


...But do you think that anyone looking at this illustration:


would have predicted a career as a picture book illustrator? I'm not sure I would have.

You'll recall that ATOMICS FOR THE MILLIONS started with a picture of a road. It ends with one as well. And, of the dozens and dozens of varied illustrations Sendak contributed to the book, I think that last picture is my favorite:


Reminiscent of an editorial cartoon, the illustration depicts mankind at the crossroads after dropping the atomic bomb. But I read other significance into this picture as well. To me it symbolizes the young Maurice Sendak who has just spent the past two hundred and fify pages showing us the breadth and depth of his talent. Now he's at the crossroads, ready to start his career. Which direction will he go?

Science books? Advertising? Comic strips? Editorial cartoons?

He had a world of possibilities to choose from.

How lucky we were that he ended up following the road that led to children's books.

Sunday Brunching with a Friend of a Friend

It’s the first Sunday of spring and today’s picture-intensive blog examines an urban legend as it relates to children’s books, provides a list of novels to get us through this depressin’ Depression, and looks at some buildings that look like books.

SPRING HAS SPRUNG

Someone recently told me that if you’re ever forced at gunpoint to withdraw money from an ATM, you should enter your PIN in reverse. The machine will give you the money you request, but will also secretly summon the police.

The person who related that story also warned me not to flash my lights at any car driving without its headlights -- or I’d be shot as part of a “secret gang initiation rite.” A few months earlier, that same person told me I should send a postcard to a sick kid in Scotland.

It turns out that all of these tales are untrue. They’re urban legends or “friend of a friend” stories. If anyone ever shares these kinds of questionable tales with you, the best place to check their validity is www.snopes.com, a clearinghouse for debunking urban legends.

This past week I had the opportunity to test a story I've heard all my life. Legend has it that each year, on the day of the vernal equinox, one is able to balance eggs perfectly on end. ...So on Friday I tried it out for myself and -- pictures don’t lie! -- you can see that it really worked:


I really was able to get EGGS standing on end!

When I reported this amazing accomplishment, the very same person who told me about the reverse PIN suddenly became a skeptic -- and even printed off a page from Snopes that seemed to debunk my experiment. It read:

Every year on the vernal equinox (on or about March 21), one of the two days per year in which the length of day and night are the same, we hear about a magical property of this day that allows eggs to be balanced on end. Rarely does a year go by in which a local TV news station doesn't send a reporter out to a neighborhood park to capture images of people delightedly placing eggs on the ground and watching in amazement as the eggs stand on end. Rarely do we see any new stories reporting that this same feat can be achieved every other day of the year as well.

Yeah well, I’m not sure I buy that. The day after the vernal equinox, I tried the exact same experiment again and -- as you can plainly see! -- I was no longer able to get EGGS to stand on end!

It obviously only works on the first day of spring.

Moral of story: 1) Snopes isn’t always correct, 2) EGGS may not be Spinelli’s best book, but it does make a mean omelet.

SPEAKING OF SPRING

I was trying to figure out which book from my collection best celebrates the spirit of the season and came up with FROM SPRING TO SPRING by Lois Duncan.

Ms. Duncan has had a rather unusual career. Most of her peers in the field of children’s and young adult fiction focus on writing novels alone, with perhaps an occasional article or short story on the side. While Duncan has written some well-regarded and very popular novels (including DOWN A DARK HALL, I KNOW WHAT YOU DID LAST SUMMER, and KILLING MR. GRIFFIN) she has always continued to publish widely in other venues: articles in the slick women’s magazines, nonfiction in regional periodicals, stories and poems in Sunday School papers. I’m sure some of these smaller publications didn’t pay much, but the author had a lot to say and wanted to get it out there for people to read.

She eventually collected many of the family-centered poems she wrote for small magazines in FROM SPRING TO SPRING and illustrated the book with black-and-white photographs of her own family and friends. She signed my copy “Welcome to my ‘family album.’”


What a keepsake this book must be for members of the author’s family.

So many people -- not just published authors, but regular folks too -- write poetry, jot down stories and memories, and take pictures of their families. It made me realize that anyone could create a “family album” like Lois Duncan’s. Just gather up any poems you’ve already written -- or start writing. Go through old notebooks to find any family memories or stories you’ve jotted down -- or start jotting. And select some favorite photos you’ve snapped over the years -- or start snapping. Then run down to Kinko’s and have copies printed and bound. If you start it now as a springtime project, you’ll already have your holiday shopping done months ahead of time.

NEW BOOK FEATURING NEW TRENDS

I just purchased the new young adult novel ROAR by Emma Clayton. This futuristic thriller about a pair of separated twins -- one living in barricaded London and the second kidnapped and reported as dead -- has been getting a lot of attention on the internet. I haven’t read it yet, so can’t comment on the quality of THE ROAR itself, but did notice two unusual things about the volume and wondered if they are unique to this book or early indications of an upcoming trend.

The first was this note on the back cover:


I don’t think I’ve ever seen anything like that before. In the past we’ve had quotes from a book, as well as full pages of text, printed verbatim on the back of dustjackets as teasers, but this is the first time I’ve ever seen the reader invited to look inside at a specific page. And who wouldn’t be enticed enough to read that page -- just to see what the big deal is about page 339? Hey, it gets a prospective reader to open the book. It’s interactive. And I think it’s an intriguing gimmick that might just work.

On the other hand, I wasn’t so enthused when I opened the front cover of THE ROAR, turned the endpaper, turned the half-title page, encountered the title page, the copyright page, the book’s dedication, and then found this:


I could hardly believe that a blurb from Eoin Colfer is printed on its own page -- especially so deep within the book. I’ve never even seen a paperback novel do that -- much less a hardcover. It seems intrusive and unnecessary and, well, rather cheesy to me.

The quote on the back of the book seems to indicate that the publishers have a certain confidence in the story -- that anyone who reads page 339 will be compelled to devour the entire book. But tossing in the Eoin Colfer plug seems to betray that confidence, making it seem like the publisher, Chicken House/Scholastic, thinks that even after starting the book, readers are going to need a push from Mr. Artemis Fowl to get going.

ANOTHER UNUSUAL GIMMICK

Here’s another odd item I found at the bookstore. PAISLEY HANOVER ACTS OUT is a breezy novel by Cameron Tuttle about a high school girl who gets kicked out of her dream yearbook class (it’s overcrowded) and is forced to take drama instead. The book is packaged in a folded box (decorated in -- what else? -- chick-lit pink and orange) complete with Velcro fastener. Open it up and the paperback novel is secured in a pocket on the right side while a facsimile of Paisley’s notebook (filled with drawings, scrawled notes and observations) is in the left-hand pocket.


It’s an enjoyable, if gimmicky, idea. I’m just glad HARRIET THE SPY wasn’t issued with an accompanying notebook; it would have ruined that book’s integrity. (I’ll pause here so that whoever is currently publishing the “new” Harriet volumes can e-mail their boss to say, “I’ve got the greatest idea. We’ll republish HARRIET and include a separate notebook full of Harriet’s writings to go with it!”) Oh Paisley Hanover, what have you wrought?

BROWN PAPER WRAPPERS AND PLASTIC BAGS

Speaking of publicity gimmicks, I was intrigued by a couple ARCs (Advance Reading Copies) I recently encountered. Although I just discovered them, both are actually from 2007 (it takes a while for hot new trends to make their way to the midwest), and although one involves an adult book, which is technically outside the purview of this children’s book blog, both are so visually arresting that I wanted to share them here.

In this day and age, it’s possible for anyone of any age to find “adult oriented materials” on the internet with a single click of the mouse. In fact, you'd probably think I was spreading an urban legend if I told you there was a time when such things were strictly monitored and sold mainly by mail order with both a provision (“to be enjoyed by consenting married adults within the confines of their own home”) and a guarantee (“your order will come delivered in a plain brown paper wrapper to assure your privacy.”)

That same retro strategy was used when promoting Daria Snadowsky’s racy young adult novel ANATOMY OF A BOYFRIEND. The cover of the ARC is on the right; the brown paper wrapper that covered it is on the left.

Does a brown paper wrapper make the book more provocative or is it a new low in publicity gimmicks? I vote for the latter. It’s a disgrace. It’s shameful. It’s tacky. And I’m moving this book up to the top of my “to be read pile” right now. (Okay, maybe the brown paper wrapper gimmick does work.)

The ARC for the adult crime novel HEARTSICK by Chelsea Cain utilized a darkly humorous gimmick, as it was packaged in a plastic police evidence bag labeled with a case number, initials (ARC!), and date (9/4/07 -- the date of publication.)


EVERYTHING OLD IS NEW AGAIN

The other day someone looked at me, sighed heavily, and said, “When are you going to get a haircut?” No, I’m not going to reveal who made that comment. Not even a hint. Except to say that she gave birth to me. I explained that I’d just read an article that said haircuts are less-than-essential expenditures in today’s rough economic climate. Face it, you know times are hard when even the President of the U.S. is growing a vegetable garden on the White House lawn. This reminded me of all the books I’ve read about kids getting soup-bowl haircuts and growing beans in backyard gardens during the Great Depression. Back when I first read them, these books were called "historical novels." Now they are timely “how-to manuals” about how to face the future. Here are a few good ones, both well-known and nearly-forgotten:

BLUE WILLOW by Doris Gates

BUD, NOT BUDDY by Christopher Paul Curtis

THE DARK DIDN’T CATCH ME, BETWEEN DARK AND DAYLIGHT, A TASTE OF DAYLIGHT, and END OF DARK ROAD by Crystal Thrasher

DUFFY’S ROCKS by Edward Fenton

ESPERANZA RISING by Pam Munoz Ryan

IVY LARKIN by Mary Stolz

A LONG WAY FROM CHICAGO by Richard Peck

MOONSHINE by Gary L. Blackwood

NO PROMISES IN THE WIND by Irene Hunt

OUT OF THE DUST by Karen Hesse

ROLL OF THUNDER, HEAR MY CRY and LET THE CIRCLE BE UNBROKEN by Mildred D. Taylor

SOUP and its many sequels by Robert Newton Peck.

TRACKS by Clayton Bess

HOW MANY STORIES ARE IN THAT BOOK?

I just now finished KEEPING SCORE by Linda Sue Park, which was published in early 2008. Better late than never. Ms. Park has written a good, old-fashioned, well-rounded story about a baseball-crazy Brooklyn girl and her friendship with a soldier who is sent to Korea. During one scene, Maggie and her mother visit the Brooklyn Central Library which “had been built to resemble a book. The entry area was the spine,and the two big wings of the building fanned out to either side, like a book that was partly open. For Maggie that was the clincher: It was surely the most wonderful building in the world.”

I had never heard of this library’s unique design, so of course I had to track down a photo on the internet:


While doing that research, I discovered that the Bibliothèque Nationale de France (well, I’d call it the “National Library of France,” which I know isn’t very sophisticated...but is still better than “That Big French Liberry.”) is designed to resemble four large, open books:


But the very best book-centric building of all has to be the Central Library of Kansas City, Missouri, which features bindings of famous volumes, including CHARLOTTE’S WEB!


Now I want to take a field trip to “check out all these books” in person.

I like the Kansas City library best because it’s the most eye-catching. If I hadn’t read about the design of the Brooklyn and French libraries, would I have noticed their resemblance to books on my own? I’d like think so, but then I’m not the most architecturally-astute person in the world. For example, I never knew that all the streets and buildings in Washington D.C. are laid out in a grid to match secret Masonic symbols. A friend of a friend told me. ...And speaking of odd stories about buildings, did you know that the top floor of the Dallas hospital where President John F. Kennedy died is supposedly empty, yet it’s maintained by a full staff of top doctors and nurses and guarded by armed Secret Service guards? And that Jackie O used to visit there every year on JFK's birthday? It’s true, it’s true...I knew somebody who knew somebody who used to work there.

What? You think I need to visit www.snopes.com again?

Okay, I’ll check it out later today, right after I make a batch of Neiman Marcus cookies. You’ll never guess where I got the recipe!