Tomi Ungerer (1931–2019)

It's Lifestyles of the Rich and Famous: The Satire as Ungerer mocks the One Percent with his grotesque and ugly art in this reprint of a work from the 1960s. He makes his point in the first couple pages, but then it just goes on and on for dozens of more pages of the same thing: body horror contrasted with the sort of pedestrian, cliched and empty sentences about the party attendees one would find in newspaper social pages of the era, e.g. "Meatpacking magnate Herman Urkel at the bridge show more table" paired with the image of a cow-faced man dangling from a hook in his skull.

It's a chore to read the whole thing. Ungerer's handwriting makes the captions hard to decipher at times (for instance, the quote above may actually reference "Herman Urpel" for all I know), and the particular attention he pays to women's breasts starts to feel hateful in the repetition. show less

A lonely old ogre who likes to eat children commits terrible depredations on the surrounding human settlements in this picture-book from Tomi Ungerer, forcing people to hide their young. The ogre, now finding it difficult to locate his favorite food, becomes ever more hungry, and ever more grumpy. Enter Zeralda, a young cook and gourmand living with her farmer father far from any town. When Zeralda runs into the ogre on her way to market, her compassion for the hungry creature, passed out show more after a surprise dive onto her cart, leads her to cook him a delicious meal. This, in turn, leads to her eventual role as his cook, and his renunciation of child-devouring. So complete is Zeralda's reform of her ogre, that when she grows into a beautiful woman, they get married and have children.

Originally published in Switzerland in 1967 as Zeralda's Riese, this classic original fairy-tale reminds me quite a bit of Tomi Ungerer's The Three Robbers (1961), which also features fearsome adult figures who are reformed by a young girl-child. Whether this is intended as a commentary on the innocence of the young, or simply their potential to see wrong-doers without fear or anger, as people needing help rather than deserving punishment, is up for debate. Whatever the case may be, the story here felt both wholly original and satisfyingly folkloric. The ending, as is to be expected from Ungerer, was completely unexpected. The artwork (again, not unexpectedly), was immensely appealing, capturing the ogre's fearsome villainy and Zeralda's matter-of-fact kindness perfectly. Recommended to all Tomi Ungerer fans, and to anyone looking for original fairy-tales. show less

An antique teddy bear reflects on his life in this poignant picture-book from Tomi Ungerer, a master of the form. Made in Germany, the toy bear is given as a gift to a young boy named David, is named Otto, and is shared with David's best friend Oskar. When David and his family are taken away, Otto is given to Oskar, with whom he lives for a time. Then bombs begin to fall, Otto is separated from Oskar, and is eventually found by an American GI named Charlie. Taken to America by Charlie, Otto show more becomes the companion of Charlie's daughter Jasmin. After a number of other adventures, including being discarded in a garbage can, found by a homeless woman, and displayed in an antique shop window, Otto is reunited with Oskar. Even more surprisingly, he and Oskar are then reunited with David. Together again after so many years, the three friends move in together...

Originally published in German in 1999, this gentle picture-book offers an exploration of the horrors of World War II and the Holocaust, as seen by a creature - a stuffed teddy bear - with no agency of his own, and no ability to do anything but observe the madness around him. Although my first instinct is to conclude that it is not a good introduction to the history of this period for younger children - I think you would need to know something about the events of that time already, in order to understand why David and his family are being taken away, why bombs are being dropped on Oskar and his mother, or why Charlie is over there fighting - perhaps Otto: The Autobiography of a Teddy Bear doesn't need to be. Although the specific linear narrative of WWII and the Holocaust isn't set out in its pages - no explanations are given for the tragedies that Otto witnesses - the stupidity of the friends' separation, the grief of their losses, and the pain of Charlie's wounds, are all ably captured in the story. If explanations for the wider conflict in which all the human characters around Otto are caught up, are not forthcoming, isn't that true to childhood? So many times the adult world, although it impinges in terrible ways on children, is a mystery to those same children, who observe it, but frequently fail to really understand it. The suffering that children must endure as the result of adult actions, on the other hand, is all too real, and immediately comprehensible to other children. Losing first a toy, then a friend, then one's family - all as the result of only partially understand adult politics - these are things that child readers and listeners, whether they have already learned the history or not, are capable of understanding

So perhaps to ask the question, "Does Otto: The Autobiography of a Teddy Bear offer a good introduction to the history of WWII and the Holocaust?," is to miss the point. Perhaps it reveals a fundamental misunderstanding of an aspect of the story that makes it particularly powerful, as a tale meant for children. I'll have to ponder that. Whatever the case may be, there's no question that the story here is a powerful one, and left me moved. I was reminded of another WWII friendship story in picture-book form that I read a few years ago - Amy Littlesugar's Willy and Max: A Holocaust Story, which was likewise poignant. The artwork here is just powerful as the text, although a little different in style from some of Ungerer's earlier work from the 1960s and 1970s. I thought I saw some influences from Maurice Sendak here, particularly in the depiction of the human figures. I'm disappointed, but by no means surprised to discover, from my friend Manny's review (available on goodreads), that the final scene in David's apartment, which contained some nude sketches of women in the original edition, has been altered in this English-language, American edition. There's a layer of meaning (again, explored in Manny's review) that is lost as a result. Leaving that issue aside, this is a book that I would highly recommend... and to whom? To anyone looking for powerful children's stories about the ways that war and wartime atrocities affect children. show less

Tired of watching the fun of human life unfold on the planet far below, the Moon Man hitches a ride on the tail of a comet and comes to Earth. Met with fear and suspicion on his landing, he is immediately imprisoned, only to escape when his waning form allows him to slip free from his chains. After a brief interlude at a party, the Moon Man is once again on the run from the authorities, taking refuge in an old castle belonging to a long-forgotten scientist who helps him to get show more home.

Originally published in 1966 in German as Der Mondmann, this classic picture-book was (according to the dust-jacket blurb) described by no less an artist as Maurice Sendak as "easily one of the best picture books in recent years," upon its initial release. It's easy to see why Sendak held that opinion, as Moon Man is an amusing, entertaining, heart-breaking, and thought-provoking story, one which captures the regrettable human penchant for resorting to aggression, when faced with the unknown. It is also a visually arresting book, with Tomi Ungerer's signature artwork, so bold and colorful, so expressive and engaging. I really regret that I never encountered Ungerer's work as a child, as I suspect that he would have been a favorite. Still, there's time enough as an adult to rectify that oversight... show less