Russell Hoban (1925–2011)

"Harley Mole and his son Delver did straight mole work. They tunneled and they dug and they brought home the groceries." So begins this immensely engaging Christmas story devoted to the doings of the solidly working class Mole family. A brooder or a thinker, depending upon whether you asked his mother or father, young Delver had a curiosity about the world around him, a curiosity that found its focus when he learned of the far-distant stars, and conceived of a desire to see them. But how show more could a mole, who lived underground and who was terribly nearsighted, ever see these shimmering celestial bodies? By using a telescope, of course! And how was he to obtain that telescope? By asking the fat man in a red suit, who visited the people aboveground once a year with gifts. And so began a process whereby the entire Mole family worked hard to make Delver's dream come true, laboring to build a chimney for this odd gift-giver, while evading the claws of Ephraim the Owl...

Having simply adored Russell and Lillian Hoban's stories about Frances the badger when I was a little girl - Bread and Jam for Frances was a particular favorite, although I loved them all - I was more than willing to give The Mole Family's Christmas a try, when it came so highly recommended by my goodreads friend Miriam. I'm glad that I did, because I discovered a true gem! The narrative here is immensely entertaining - humorous in that delightfully deadpan way I have come to associate with the Hobans. I chuckled aloud at the mouse's description of the odd human customs involving the fat man in a red suit, and his conclusion that "it's quite an odd thing, really, but he does it only once a year, and nobody seems to mind." The best of animal fiction can convince you that you are truly getting a different species' perspective, often making the familiar seem unfamiliar in thought-provoking ways, something Russell Hoban manages here with wit and charm. I appreciated that the animal characters in The Mole Family's Christmas are not depicted as if they live in some sort of woodland utopia - in this fictional world, as in the real one, owls hunt mice and moles - but that the predator animal isn't completely vilified. He even gets his own gift from Santa! When I compare this title to the more recent Waiting for Santa, a picture-book I read a few days ago, which features lots of unlikely cross-species friendship amongst a group of animals waiting for Santa, I can't help but conclude that the Hobans display, through stories such as this, so much more respect for their young readers, than the creators of sweeter fare. Which isn't to say that there isn't sweetness here, because there is... it's just leavened with salt.

The artwork by Lillian Hoban is every bit as appealing and the text by Russell, capturing the talpine charm of the main characters - right down to their wonderful work outfits! - and the beauty and enchantment of the world around them, whether underground, above ground, or high above ground (in the sky). Here are Harley and Delver heading off to work:



All in all, a delightful book, one I would recommend to all young children who enjoy animal stories, to all Hoban fans, and to anyone searching for engaging, slightly quirky Christmas titles. show less

Fuck yeah, Russell Hoban! Not only are you my best bud writer of weird gnarly books for grownups, you also wrote this book about how to trick your kid into eating some proper food once in a while that, granted, I don't need because Emmett has the discerning palate of a grownup reader of gnarly books, but that if I did need I never would have thought of on my own, so, uh, many para-thanks, I guess, for this book that was also fun and cute!

(It took me 2,066 LibraryThing reviews to find show more occasion to use the word "gnarly"?!? I'm clearly not living right) show less

Hester Mouse needs a reprint. This is a cute, timeless precursor to Russell Hoban's existential juggernaut of kidlit, the Mouse and His Child (1967), and, in many ways, just as enjoyable.

It's dark, at times, and our heroes -- all of them -- are crushed by their lack of control over their lives, by the burden of their very natures. A mouse is a mouse, an owl an owl, and the nature of one is to feed on the other. Their places are well understood (and the loftier positions even brings about show more lofty self-evaluations!), but Hester Mouse and her kin don't have to like their destinies.

This is the story of Hester Mouse, and how she came to escape her fate by tumbling into another just as uncontrollable. She's not a writer herself -- for a mouse will never write -- but the accidental inspiration to a writer unable to write. Mostly by accident, he plucks her from the owl's intent and gives her a wheel to explore. The owl wants his story told, and Hester wants to tell it -- the writer just wants to write whatever inspiration brings.

It's cute, and surprisingly complex under the thin layers of children's literature. (Though it certainly feels like a warm-up to his aforementioned 1967 masterpiece.) If you can find it, snatch it up, if you can't, politely clamor for a new treatment, please. show less

First sentence: Christmas was coming and it was coming fast. It was coming to the town where the houses huddled with their cozy windows shining in the winter dusk. It was coming to the country where snow lay drifted up against the barns and the firewood was all stacked beside the houses. And it was coming to the river and the little run-down place where Emmet Otter and his mother lived, near Frogtown Hollow. Christmas was coming, and money was more scarce than ever.

Premise/plot: Emmet Otter show more desperately wants to buy a store bought present for his Ma. Ma Otter desperately wants to buy a store bought present for her son. Both realize that it's an almost impossible dream. Money is not to be had. Ma depends on doing the washing--in her washtub--to bring in a bit of money. Emmet depends on his odd jobs--thanks to the toolbox his father left him. Not a spare penny to be found. But when the town has a talent show with a prize of fifty dollars, both must decide if it's time to risk it all for a dream.

My thoughts: I love, love, love, love crazy-love the Muppet adaptation of Emmet Otter's Jug-band Christmas. I do think the ADAPTATION is better. Or perhaps it is just more familiar. The adaptation gives us music, songs, lyrics. The book gives us song titles and a small fraction of the lyrics. And the two don't really have much of a connection except for one or two song titles that are *almost* the same. Still, this one is an enjoyable, cozy read. It's just not quite as magical as the adaptation. show less