On this Friday, I've decided to post a review of book that I've known quite well for decades but which my opinion about has changed drastically in the past few months. Anyone who knows me knows that I'm a person of strong opinions and usually have stubborn convictions on said opinions. So for me to have a change of heart, especially on a book, is quite rare. I'm pretty pleased to say this is the first thing on which my daughter has changed my opinion, though I'm quite certain it won't be the last.
When I worked in Children's publishing as buyer, I hated this book. I'd read it many, many times and never saw what people liked about it. It was dull. It was boring. It was a book that I crusaded against as one that had seen its time and needed to be retired.
I was wrong.
Of course when my daughter was born, this book was one that was given to her. When she was about three months old, I read it to her for the first time, without much excitement. At the time, I still believed what I believed. We didn't read it very many times after. Then, about two months ago, I read it to her again as we were getting her ready for bed and saw how how much she liked it and how it soothed her.
We read it a few more times, and soon she started pointing at the things as I read about them. My interest in the book grew. We began reading it every other night. For the first time I understood the genius in the rhythm of the text. I began to appreciate the nonsense quality of the items and the randomness of things chosen. And I discovered the art of reading it aloud and how it lends itself to a magical, peaceful ending.
So goodnight old opinions. Goodnight criticism. Goodnight nobody. And goodnight mush.