Raymond Briggs (1934–2022)

Acclaimed British illustrator and children's author Raymond Briggs, whose picture-books The Snowman and Father Christmas are considered modern classics, relates the story of a young girl and her visit with a bear in this oversized title. Tucked into bed one night by her mother, Tilly finds herself being visited by a massive white polar bear, who somehow gets into bed with her, and who hangs around the house on the following day. Tilly's indulgent parents humor her talk of the bear, clearly show more not believing in him, but Tilly herself finds that she must work hard to clean up after this ursine visitor. Despite that fact, she is distraught when the visit comes to an end...

Despite having enjoyed the books from Briggs that I have read, I don't seem to have sought out more of his titles, so I am thankful to my friend Hilary for recommending this one to me. It pairs an engaging, perceptively-told story with gorgeous illustrations. The format alternates between paneled pages, which look almost like a cartoon or graphic novel in structure, and illustrations that take up an entire page. The narrative explores how Tilly perceives and interacts with her visitor vs. how her parents perceive him, and how they perceive Tilly's stories of him, offering an amusing but warmhearted commentary on the imaginative lives of children, and how those lives are often received by the adults in their lives. Was the bear real? Clearly he was, in this story, but Briggs invites us to consider the truth that even if he had not been corporeal, the bear would still have been "real." Recommended to picture-book lovers looking for engaging stories about children and their secret lives, or featuring polar bears (always so oddly benign in children's literature). show less

A book that no child should be without. A book to pore over and find new details in. Briggs does a great job of bringing home to you how alien the bogeymen are. Reading it as an adult I got more of the humour, like the censored umbilical cord. The story follows Fungus as he goes about his night while quietly having an existential crisis. There's an interesting commentary on the British class system.

Presented in comic-book form, this delightfully humorous holiday tale features a grouchy Father Christmas, one who struggles out of bed on the important day, trudges through his morning chores and his breakfast, and then sets out - complaining all the way, ha ha! - on his annual trek around the world. From the difficulties of letting himself into various homes - sooty chimneys, too-thin chimneys, no chimneys - to the challenges of weather - "blooming snow! - this Father Christmas has plenty show more to keep him kvetching, until (finally!) he reaches home again...

Winner of the Kate Greenaway Medal in 1973, Raymond Briggs' Father Christmas is quite a treat, visually speaking, with a suitably rosy-cheeked, chubby hero, one whose "sweet" appearance is hilariously contrasted with his somewhat curmudgeonly attitude. Mileage will probably vary with this one, but I enjoyed its prickly sense of humor, appreciated many of the little details - Father Christmas telling his reindeer to "Keep still you silly deers," or complaining of getting socks and ties as gifts - and finished it with a distinct sense of regret, that I never encountered it as a child. show less

For those who are too young to remember the 1980s, it was a decade of utterly foolish magical thinking about nuclear annihilation, an era in which governments in both the United States and the United Kingdom pretended that, with enough shovels — and a stiff upper lip — people could survive a nuclear blast. Cartoonist Raymond Briggs published this illustrated black comedy in 1982 at the height of Cold War brinkmanship and civilian terror.

In When the Wind Blows, pensioners James and Hilda show more Bllloggs take the official declarations and a home county pamphlet to heart and build themselves a fallout shelter in the complete faith that “they” know what they’re talking about, with decisions intelligently made by “commuters” (computers). James makes certain that the household doors used to construct the shelter are at the precise recommended 60-degree angle so that that the “fallout” — the couple don’t really know what fallout is — will slide neatly down the side. The rest of their plans are about as useful.

Mr. and Mrs. Bloggs vaguely think that this last war will be an abbreviated rehash of World War II and the recommended Inner Core of Refuge an updated version of the air-raid shelter. They soon discover differently. The Beatrix Potter-style illustrations provide a satirical contrast to the Bloggs’ overly optimistic faith in the Powers That Be to know best. A wonderful satire of those mad years. show less