Taxi?

“It is a truth universally acknowledged, that a single man in possession of a good fortune must be in want of a wife.”

It is also universally acknowledged that a single man, in want of a wife, may run afoul of a headless horseman, if he’s not careful.

Such is the fate of Ichabod Crane, gangly bachelor and school teacher, lover of ripe repasts and an even riper Dutch damsel. A victim not only of his own appetites and superstitions, but quite possibly the terrifying prank of his rival.

The Legend of Sleepy Hollow is an old American ghost story, based on a German fairy tale. It is familiar to many, but unread by most, due in part to the proliferation of knockoffs, cartoons and most recently, a pale cinematic adaptation by Tim Burton, starring Johnny Depp. This is a shame. In re-reading Sleepy Hollow, I was mightily impressed by the languid elegance and humour of Irving’s writing. Yes, a headless horseman, in any context, will steal the show, but equally compelling are the lush descriptions of the Hudson River Valley in Autumn, and in particular the sequestered glen known as Sleepy Hollow:

“If ever I should wish for a retreat, whither I might steal from the world and its distractions, and dream quietly away the remnant of a troubled life, I know of none more promising than this little valley.”

You see, not every ghost story is takes place in a haunted house.

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What mask?

The storyline is thus: A through Z inclusive, with poetry (of a most delightful sort), and some outstanding illustrations by the great Lane Smith. Done.

Well, not quite. Spooky ABC is, as one might conclude, an ABC book. And, as one might also conclude, it starts with A is for Apple. Except, this is a spooky apple, and it is the last thing you would want to find in your lunchbox:

Apple, sweet apple, what do you hide?

Wormy and squirmy, rotten inside.

Apple, sweet apple, so shiny and red, taste it, don’t waste it, come and be fed.

Delicious, malicious; one bite and you’re dead.

Think I’ll have banana.

An ABC book is the equivalent of Hamlet for illustrators. It’s a right of passage. A challenge to those possessed of a superior talent and the creative cajone’s capable not only of re-imagining the alphabet, but also surprising and entertaining an audience over 26 ‘acts.’ And to stretch this metaphor even further, Spooky ABC, like Hamlet, is a ghost story.

To B or not to B, that is the question.

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A ghoulish gourd

In human interactions, a first impression, which is the equivalent of judging a person by their appearance, or ‘cover’, is not a reliable gauge of quality. Wait until they open their mouth, and then judge them. With books, it’s a little easier. As long as the editors and designers have some idea of what they’re doing, the cover of a picture book will give you a pretty good idea of what’s inside. And if you’ve seen enough picture books, as I have, the spine alone may be all that is required to cast an opinion. I do it all the time, and I consider it one of the best of my many unemployable skills.

In the fiction section of a bookstore, it takes awhile to figure out what my next read will be, but in picture books, I’m all about snap judgements. I am proud to say I judged Halloween by its cover in a publisher’s catalogue, and when the book arrived, it not only met my expectations, it exceeded them. Halloween is one gorgeous book, and I have yet to see another gourd, ghoulish or otherwise, that can compete with the cover. Or the spine.

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