Chris Van Allsburg

Brilliant picture-book practitioner Chris Van Allsburg - two-time winner of the Caldecott Medal, for Jumanji and The Polar Express, as well as a Caldecott Honor, for The Garden of Abdul Gasazi - delivers a deliciously spooky reading experience with The Widow's Broom, a book which boasts both an engrossing story, and gorgeous illustrations. "Witches' brooms don't last forever," it begins, proceeding to unfold the story of widow Nina Shaw, who aids the injured witch who crash-lands in her show more field, and is rewarded with the mostly magic-less broom that she leaves behind. Mostly magic-less, but still enchanted, the broom becomes a helper and companion for the lonely widow, assisting her with the chores, and playing the piano for her. Until, that is, the widow's frightened and superstitious neighbors, led by the vindictive and nosy Mr. Spivey, decide that the broom must be the work of the devil...

As with all good stories, The Widow's Broom can be read and understood on a variety of levels, whether it be as a spooky tale of magic, suitable for the Halloween season, or as a meditation on the dangers and futility of superstition, and (implied) religious intolerance. The idea that we often create a world in which our fears are brought to life, through a kind of self-fulfilling prophecy - Mr. Spivey believes that the broom is evil and dangerous, and his sons, having doubtlessly picked up on this idea, persecute the broom, which retaliates in kind, proving that it can be very dangerous indeed - is subtly conveyed in the story, as is the notion that things are rarely as they seem (love that surprise ending!). The illustrations are simply breathtaking: done all in black and white, they have a kind of sepia tone to them, and ably capture the depths of shadow and presence of light, in each scene being depicted. There is a sense of mystery and magic here, that is perfectly suited to the tale at hand. I think my favorite image was of the witch, grasping her billowing cloak, her face turned to the side: so powerful, so frightening and beautiful, all at once!

With a strong story, complete with surprise ending, and beautifully rich artwork, The Widow's Broom is a book I highly recommend: to anyone who is looking for engagingly witchy tales (at Halloween, or any other time of the year), or who is an admirer of Van Allaburg's artwork! show less

This book is marvelous for so many reasons. It is really a book about what it is like to be a reader of books. There are a number of illustrations, each one for a story. You know the title of the story, the illustration, and the caption for the illustration. That's all. The whole rest of the book is in your head: YOU are the one who has to decide how the story got from the title to the picture, and where it goes from there. This makes the book one of the longest very thin books I have ever show more read. In fact, since every time I read it, I make up different stories, I have yet to reach the end. show less

I have owned The Mysteries of Harris Burdick -- the portfolio of illustrations and captions that inspired the short stories in this collection -- for a long time, and I have always enjoyed looking at them and letting them spark my imagination. It is inevitable that finally reading stories based on these captivating drawings would be something of a letdown, even when the stories are written by very good authors. It's like opening the closet door to reveal the monster at the end of the book; show more nothing quite measures up to what already lives in one's imagination.

So I found many of these stories to be a bit forced or contrived, and unsure of their audience -- neither really appropriate for children or adults. I suppose that's what comes of starting from a picture and matching the story to that, rather than letting the story flow naturally and inspire the picture. There were a couple of exceptions, and they stood out because they broke the rules and gave me something unexpected. Those were the stories by Jon Sciezka and M.T. Anderson; the first was dark and humorous, the second had a delicious twist. As for the others, they were fine, but there was a small part of me that thought I could do better. show less

On Christmas eve a boy rides a train through the snow from his house to the north pole, where he meets Santa and is chosen out of all the children to receive any gift he wants. He wants one of the reindeer’s bells, so that’s what he gets. The bell is briefly lost due to a hole in the boy’s robe pocket, but it shows up again in a box under his Christmas tree the next morning.

Chris Van Allsburg is one of the greatest children’s book illustrators of all time for good reason. His art is show more vivid and huge and close-up and surreal. I love the big dark steam train in contrast to the stark white falling snow. In this case it is stunning and distracts from, in my opinion, a sentimental flop of a plot. Trains are great, snow is fun, meeting Santa is fine. Santa picking only one of the hundreds of children at the north pole to give a gift to is weird. Isn’t Santa’s whole deal that he gives gifts to every good child? And how convenient that he picks the narrator, someone who only wants a bell. I hope none of the other children were going to ask for a roof over their family’s head, or enough food to eat! Unlucky them. The ending trope of no one else being able to hear the bell because they don’t believe in Santa is my least favorite Christmas trope. Annoyingly saccharine. show less