You know when Sir Topham Hatt shows up on Forbes Magazine's Fictional 15 List (which details the world's wealthiest fictional characters), that Thomas the Tank Engine has become a permanent institution. There was a time in my early book-selling/child-care days when just hearing the words 'Tank' or 'Train' sent me running in the opposite direction. And there was also an unfortunate period where the theme song from Thomas and Friends cropped up alarmingly often in my dreams. (Really. It was like a frightening Quentin Terantino movie.) I've since made my peace with Thomas. He is, in many ways, as inevitable as Princesses, or Pokemon, or Captain Underpants. You can move to the remotest regions of Antarctica and somehow your children will still manage to find the Isle of Sodor.
While I might not regularly read the books of my own free will (but am happy to oblige any special requests), I have come across one or two of the original stories by Rev. W. Awdry, and must admit, they have a certain charm. The fact is, they convey a safe, structured and incredibly moralistic world, and that is deeply reassuring to young children. The adult in me has always fought the urge to look for subtext, for political undertones, wonder what would happen to, say, the elderly, in a world where value is measured by usefulness, but oh my gosh you guys, these books are for three-year olds, and I HAVE GOT TO TURN MY BRAIN OFF. These days, Thomas and I do just fine. But I am always on the look-out for books to offer parents who are desperate for something, anything else, that might appeal to their wheel-loving child.
There are the well-known classics, like Mike Mulligan, the Richard Scary collections, or The Little Engine That Could, but I am always quick to add Byron Barton to the list, with his fantastic collection of books on trains, planes, and all manner of things-that-go. I have real soft-spots for Planes and Machines at Work. The books are small and short on words and my youngest train-lovers always seem to gravitate toward them. Why are they so awesome? Why do I never get sick of reading these things? The vibrant, saturated illustrations have been imitated by others time and again, and after one hundred rounds of reading the line, 'More work tomorrow!' I have this odd sense of comfort rather than the desire to throw the book across the room. I think their premise is equally as reassuring as the Thomas books, but without all the strange undertones. As long as the great world spins, there will always be more work tomorrow. Best do it cheerfully.
Although they don't feature trains, I am also head-over-heels for the Little Blue Truck books, by Amy Schertle. Yes, the rhyming couplets will eventually make your head hurt. Yes, your tongue will begin to loll out of your mouth after a few dozen readings. But they are succinct, full of excitement, and work fantastically well as read-alouds. Their message of friendship is sweet without being saccharine, and they offer the same sense of order and kindness in a chaotic world. The illustrations are a perfect combination of retro charm and modern observation, and this is especially true, I think, when the Little Blue Truck visits the big city. By including the farm animals as characters, they strike just the right balance between the man-made and natural worlds. Publisher's Weekly even called them the modern-day Little Golden Books. I am inclined to agree.
So what about you? Do you or your children have any favorite things-that-go books? We keep a small section ofThomas and other train books, but the larger picture books always seem to end up elsewhere. Does your local book-store/library shelve its wheel-based books together? And what is the deal with Thomas? Any explanations or suggestions would be most welcome.
