If you’re like me, you opened your laptop today to find your Twitter and Facebook feeds swirling with Maurice Sendak quotes and pictures. It took me a minute, and a google search, as no one had actually come right out to say it.
Maurice Sendak has died.
Maurice Sendak will always be the quintessential children’s book author for me. While Dr. Seuss’ books are read more often in my house right now, reading Where The Wild Things Are is more of a special treat. His textured illustrations with depressive muted colors have been imprinted on my brain from my own childhood. The fantastical worlds he created have always teetered on the edges of bizarre, and sparked the imaginations of millions (maybe billions) of children the world over, including my own.
It’s a wonder, while I’m writing this, Carole King’s version of Alligators All Around is playing on repeat in my head. I still have my mini 4-pack of books which also included Chicken Soup With Rice.
If you haven’t had a chance to read his obituary in the New York Times, I strongly urge you to do so, as an adult fan of his work. I was surprised and saddened to find out some of his history, like the fact that his parents never knew he was gay, for example. However, connecting this information makes his work have an even greater impact, at least on me.
As one of my friends said on Facebook: “Childhood was more magical with Max and the Wild Things.”
While, I’m crestfallen that my children will only know of Sendak posthumously, I’m overjoyed that he leaves behind him a library of fantasy and imagination for my two toddlers, and hopefully for their toddlers to enjoy as well.
Where The Wild Things Are available on Amazon