William Steig (1907–2003)

A Thoroughly Unpleasant Children's Book

Picture book about a hideously ugly ogre who travels out into the world to find an ogress as ugly as he to marry. By 1990, when this was first published, author and illustrator William Steig had already been well-established for decades for such beloved children's classics as Sylvester and the Magic Pebble (1969), The Amazing Bone (1976) and Doctor De Soto (1982), which makes this utter misfire all the more inexplicable. The book's supposed message is show more of self-acceptance, and the line between that and being a complete sociopath is not a fine one, yet here Steig more than crosses it. Even in the grisliest folktales collected by the Grimm Brothers, there's a dearth of villains - let alone ostensible heroes - who make it a point to look their innocent victims in the eyes as they murder them, yet Shrek does precisely that to a hapless pheasant.

The writing is precisely as charming as the protagonist. The first section in verse reads:

"This is the way I cook my bats,
Stir my bats, taste my bats,
Season my bats in the morning;
Stew and brew and chew my bats
Diddle and fiddle and faddle my bats,
Early in the morning."

It's difficult to imagine how a child might sing that meter and rhyming pattern.

That verse is sung by a witch, one of several "characters" (and I use that term generously) whom Shrek encounters on his quest who serve little purpose for the "story." The donkey, so memorable in the 2000 film adaptation, here is just... a donkey. Thanks to his doggerel introductory monologue, we know he lazes and spends his "days in the green,/A chewing, chomping rover." He takes Shrek to the castle, or more specifically, "To the nutty knight. Who guards the entrance. To the crazy castle. Where the repulsive princess. Waits." Why the donkey has this speech pattern - used only in this one line - is as much a mystery as is which children it would enchant.

As a picture book, what the writing lacks, the illustrations should be able to fill in, but once again, Steig fails to do so. His childlike drawing style familiar to those who have seen his earlier works is here employed to illustrate revolting subjects. If an actual child were to replicate this style, it would likely provoke a parent-teacher conference and perhaps some counseling sessions.

The only reason this book earns the star-and-a-half I gave it is because there were just enough elements to find a clear inspiration for the excellent film adaptation and the nearly equally excellent 2008 Broadway musical adaptation. It's also a tribute to the writers of those adaptations that they made it through all 28 fully-illustrated pages without being too nauseated to consider writing dozens of pages of script. For parents and educators looking to introduce young children to the joy of reading through this book, I'd recommend leaving the love of the superior versions unspoiled by this particular original source. show less

Originally published in 1971, William Steig's Amos & Boris, which offers a delightful oceanic remake of the classic Aesopic fable of The Lion and the Mouse, is as close to perfect as a picture-book can be, pairing an engaging story about an unlikely friendship between a mouse and a whale, with charming illustrations that are all the more evocative for their simplicity. The text is intelligent, and its author assumes that his readers, young though they may be, are likewise intelligent. show more Describing his murine hero's voyage of discovery on the wide ocean, Steig writes: "One night, in a phosphorescent sea, he marveled at the sight of some whales spouting luminous water; and later, lying on the deck of his boat gazing at the immense, starry sky, the tiny mouse Amos, a little speck of a living thing in the vast living universe, felt thoroughly akin to it all."

That thrilling sense of connection, to the world around, and to the very cosmos; that feeling of being akin to all life; is one that comes to us all, from time to time (or so I have always imagined), an epiphanic experience made more powerful by the fact that it often remains inchoate - sensed, felt, but not fully conceptualized or expressed. That Steig so effortlessly evokes that kind of experience, using a sophisticated vocabulary that some might deem too advanced for picture-book fare, before blithely moving on with his narrative, makes for a brilliant storytelling episode - one of many in this little masterpiece of the genre! Poignant, without ever descending into any kind of overt emotional manipulation or tricksiness; heart-warming, though utterly lacking in sentimentality; and deeply satisfying, though the conclusion of the story is left somewhat open-ended, Amos & Boris is a superb picture-book, one I am very sorry not to have discovered earlier in life. I suspect I would have read it again and again, as a girl... show less

When Sylvester finds a beautiful red pebble one day, the rock-collecting donkey is delighted. When that pebble turns out to be a magical stone that grants wishes, he is even more overjoyed, and rushes home to share the largess with his loving parents. Unfortunately, a chance encounter with a lion on his way, and a hastily made wish, see him transformed into an inanimate stone, with little prospect of ever being released from his self-inflicted enchantment. As Sylvester's parents begin their show more long search for him, he sits quietly in the meadow, unable to move. Will he ever become a donkey again, or be reunited with his parents...?

Apparently this charming picture-book - first published in 1969, and awarded a Caldecott Medal in 1970 - has been challenged in at least eleven states! Why you ask? Because its tale of a donkey who accidentally wishes himself into a stone, thereby causing grief to his loving parents, and to himself, is too disturbing for youngsters? No! Because it contains magic in the first place, and that might give impressionable young readers the 'wrong' idea? Again, no! This one was challenged because the police officers in the story - the helpful police officers who comfort Sylvester's parents, and try to help them find their son - are depicted as pigs! Of course, there's also a housewife depicted as a pig, but housewives aren't quite as organized as the police, who began challenging Sylvester and the Magic Pebble in 1977, in Indiana. That sound you hear is me rolling my eyes...

In any case, I'm glad I finally had a chance to read this classic of the picture-book genre, as I think it really is delightful, with an engrossing tale that treats childhood with the respect it deserves - no, children aren't all sweetness and light, and yes, they experience dark realities - and expressive artwork that captures both the humor and terror of Sylvester's predicament. show less

Articulating the affection of a multitude of fans--"Dr. Bernard De Soto was such a one-in-a-million, humdinger of a dentist that the whole world knew about him"--Steig reintroduces the debonair mouse-dentist and his beloved wife/assistant, Deborah. The dental dilemma of an elephant named Mudambo lead the duo on a pain relief mission to West Africa. No sooner are they ashore than Dr. De Soto is kidnapped by "a certain rhesus monkey, Honkitonk by name," sworn enemy of Mudambo--who considers show more his foe "an ill-bred pachyderm with a preposterous schnozzola." It's all here: the exuberant, Steigian phrases that somersault off the tongue, the nimble humour, the unflinching drama. Unfortunately, the rather complex plot doesn't utilise the dentist's by-now-legendary cunning for its resolution; it does, however, showcase the equally skilled, ever-faithful Deborah. Creatures of every stripe and feather populate this unique African jungle, evoking images and characters from previous works. Yet the vibrant, colourful illustrations exude a freshness and pizzazz that will leave readers wondering where the next world-class toothache will strike.

A telegram from an elephant desperately in need of dental attention is the impetus for Dr. and Mrs. De Soto's journey to Africa. But not all is smooth sailing for the couple, as a rhesus monkey bears a grudge against the elephant for a previous insult, and kidnaps the diminutive dentist as revenge. The illustrations are deftly drawn and nicely composed, with the agonized patient stealing the show. Steig takes full advantage of the size disparity between the grandiose elephants and their furnishings and the miniscule mice, and gets in some amusing touches. show less