*Tap, tap* *Clears throat* Is this thing on?
Man, I've been busy. School starting, committees coagulating, politics festering. Hoo boy. Fall.
And I've read, but been remiss in reviewing here, despite my continual lurking, to see what others have read, and to keep tabs on the brewing Salinger-smackdowns, blatant Austen-baiting, and patent silliness. Thank you all.
Other reviews forthcoming (like you care), but I'm going to break silence by breaking a habit. I rate few kids' books, and review fewer, despite the fact that I read them constantly, with my five-year-old Max. (Most of my ratings reflect more of my fondest memories, those books--by [author:Maurice Sendak] and [author:Arnold Lobel], for instance--that were my favorites. Max certainly has favorites, but I'm waiting for him to post on them himself.)
But this gets a huge exception, because, oh sure, he
loves it, but even better, I
love it. I love stuff that invites--nay, demands
--full-throated language-loving theatrics as I read to him. And Big Plans, besides being funny, gorgeously drawn, and charmingly disinterested in didactics and thinly-drawn allegories (like so many crap kids' books)... well, BP brings out the Ted Baxter in me. You simply cannot read it in your normal voice. Hell, even a bit of emphatic shouting won't do. No, you've got to muster the grandest most arrogant blustering bombast narration you can manage, to give this book its due.
Big Plans, I say, Big Plans! Damn good fun.