What kind of mother will send his child to bed without dinner?Statistics say the many Filipinos go to bed with empty stomach. They just sleep so that they'll forget that they are hungry. Living in a Pacific island when I was a young boy, our family was poor too. However, my mother made sure that we ate something before going to bed. If my parents were hard up on cash because there were four of us young kids in the family and their only source of income were the coconut trees, there were times when we had to eat rice with a couple of fresh raw eggs with pinches of salt. But as small kids, we enjoyed it as we took turns eating from the same spoon and big plate while our mother was chasing each one of us while we ran around the house trying to have fun as we felt very happy with out mother chasing us. She ran after each of us with a spoonful of rice with egg and we keep on evading her until she got angry (you could tell this by the tone of her voice). Or its decibel depending on how long it took her to complete our feeding time which meants how long would it take for her to lose her patience. She called out our names according to our age: To!... Ningcoy!... Mon!... K.D.! (joke... I am only using this alias here in GR).Chasing us. Wanting to feed us. However, this Max's mother called him "WILD THING" and Max said "I'LL EAT YOU UP" and he was sent to his room without dinner. Poor Max got hungry and started having delusions seeing forest, ocean, boat inside his bedroom then later all those scary-looking monsters with who he had a rumpus with.And many of my friends are saying her in Goodreads that this is the best children's book ever. I came from another culture probably and I did not grow up with this book (no sweet memories attached to it). However, I do appreciate the uniqueness of the story. A mischievous child turns on his imagination similar to the boy in Dr. Seuss' 1937 children's book To Think That I Saw It On Mulberry Street which for me is a better book on how powerful children's imagination can be. I see and got amazed too at how imaginative Sendak's drawings that are becoming bigger and bigger as you turn the pages. Regarding the appearance of the characters, my problem is that I had seen the movie before reading the book and I found the moving pictures more interesting than the still pictures. However, of course the basic plot is the same. I just don't remember regarding the absence of food as punishment and the food showing up at the end of the movie. Which I think makes more sense being more rational.Overall, it is nice to have finally read this classic work. Mo Twister of Good Times told us his listeners one morning last year that this is his favorite children's book. Mine is still Saint-Exupery's The Little Prince. Thank you, Jzhun for lending me this book. 2 stars means "It's Okay!". Please please don't let your future children go to bed hungry. It is inhumane.
Where the Wild Things AretWhat's the moral of this story? Some might say Sendack's work is a testament to the unbridled powers of a child's imagination. Others would posit that the true virtue of Where the Wild Things Are stems from the reversal of a timeless power dynamic in which monsters frighten children. In Sendack's carefully rendered world, monsters submit to the whims of children, which appears to suit Max well enough. I assume it works well for other children as well. If you can't convince snot-nosed brats that monsters don't exist, at least you can convince them that monsters are friendly. Children, after all, are like neo-conservatives. You can only reason with them on their own delusional terms.tHere's the summary:tMax is an asshole. His mother calls him a monster, so he flies into a cannibalistic rage. She sends him to his room without dinner, which doesn't seem to be the best of ideas since he just threatened to eat her f*&% face off, but whatever. This book isn't heralded as a classic because of its promotion of high-quality parenting techniques. I'll get to that in a moment.tI couldn't help but notice the parallels between the story of Max and the early years of Siddhartha. Both starve themselves until they hallucinate. But the similarities end there. Siddhartha realizes that his approach to transcendentalism is misguided, and he eats once more. Max, on the other hand, starves himself for a night and trees grow in his room. Then he proceeds to get on a boat and fast for an entire year, at which point he starts seeing giant monsters.tThe fact that these monsters cater to his delusions of grandeur--cowering in his presence and sharing his flesh-eating inclinations--lets us know that Max has externalized his fantasy world through strict fasting. On one hand, I respect this kid. I can rarely push through four days without wheat before the weekend starts and I pack in 80lbs of corporate-grown meat and bleached bread. On the other hand, what the hell is this book teaching our children? I'll tell you.That middle finger means "I was raised on Sendak!"tAside from self-imposed starvation, the book teaches children to give up on their aspirations as soon as the slightest temptation arises: "he smelled good things to eat so he gave up being king." It sends the message that those who love you would just as happily rip your entrails out and feast upon them as soon as you decide to leave: "Oh please don't go-we'll eat you up-we love you so!" And, finally, it shows them that parents' threats are temporally limited, and eventually love will cause them to cave in. At the end of the story, Max returns to his room "where he found his supper waiting for him." Way to be strong, mom. Pushover.I bet Satan loves this book.
"Where the Wild Things Are" is one of the books I remember vividly from my childhood. While I'm not sure I would call it a "favorite" (it didn't completely resonate with me as some books did, nor was it a "cozy" sort of story that I loved reading over and over), there was something utterly fascinating about it... I found the Wild Things so intriguing, I at once admired and felt ashamed of Max's behavior, I felt bad that he had to leave the Wild Things but yet happy that he went home, that his mother forgave him and still loved him, and that his dinner was "still hot". I felt much the same reading this as an adult. But, I appreciated it in different ways, too. Some days, I think we all feel like a "Wild Thing"--some days, I wear my "wolf suit" and life seems to be havoc around me. I love that Max was able to channel his feelings in a positive way, using imagination to have a wild time with the Wild Things, yet also to calm them (his feelings), and to realize that he would rather have safety and comfort and love. The illustrations are amazing! The sparse words, paired with the illustrations, create a pitch-perfect story, compel you to turn the page, and to immerse yourself in Max's adventure. The bedroom transforms in such a wonderful way, The Wild Things are sooo memorable, Max's expressions are so telling... I just loved all of it!We read this for the Children's Book Group January theme for the Picture Book Club, "Children Going on Adventures and Exploring". Max's adventure, into his imagination and his feelings, is one that I think I will appreciate for many years to come and look forward to sharing with my future children, little "Wild Things" that they may be at times, someday.
—Kathryn
"The night Max wore his wolf suit and made mischief of one kind..." These are probably the best 13 opening words ever written in the history of picture books.Sendak is a master of brevity, telling poignant stories in less words than most of us use to talk about the weather. His approach to children's literature is honest and non condescending. He remembers what is was like to be a child, and through his storytelling reminds the rest of us how our perception of the world was when we were young; dark and hopeful, mysterious and tangible, innocent and knowing, fearful and confident.This book is pure magic.
—Maureen Brunner
I have no doubt that this book damaged me, psychologically, as a small child. It is one of the earliest books I vividly remember reading aloud to myself, and I remember the first time my mother read it to me before she put me to bed. Here's the gist of the plot: A little boy named Max dresses up in a wolf costume, plays with a hammer, chases his dog with a fork, then threatens to cannibalize his mother. His mother, a master of irony, then puts him to bed with no dinner. Already, this story should start creeping you out. Then a forest starts to grow in Max's bedroom. And no, no chemicals have been ingested anywhere in the story. Though the bit about chasing the dog with the fork does imply a delusional state. Regardless, a fucking forest grows in the kids bedroom. So naturally he gets in a boat and sails off to the other side of the world, to where all these "wild things" are. And promptly subjugates everyone he sees. I'm a damn toddler, and my mom is reading me a book about a sociopath. So Max has a ball with this gang he's conquered and converted, and they howl at the moon and hop through trees. Then he gets hungry and goes home, where his mother, no doubt terrified of his new army of foreign creatures, has left his food for him, still warm. I thought, "This woman aims to do me harm." Yes, please, mother. Read me a story about my bedroom becoming a forest inhabited by monsters, then put me to bed. Think I slept that night? No, I hid out under my bed with a plastic baseball bat, a water gun and flashlight, hoping to God that if this was the night it all went wrong, I had the courage to look those monsters in the eye and pretend I wasn't wetting myself. I made a nest with a giant teddy bear and two pillows and didn't come out until the next morning, when I heard my mom coming down the hall. All day long I pretended nothing was different. But I asked her to read me Where The Wild Things Are again that night. And the next night. For months. I would ask her questions like "Do you think I will have my monsters get you if you don't make me supper?" And she'd smile, and say "Go to bed, Nathan." Spooky shit, I'm telling you. I learned to read through fear and intimidation. A subversive masterpiece. NC
—Nathan
