Picture Books: B is for Bemelmans

The Madeline books, written and illustrated by Ludwig Bemelmans, are enchanting. I have a preference for closely detailed illustrations filled with "hints" (Graham Oakley, Trina Schmidt Hyman) but I can appreciate the loose, pastel-like energy and emotion of Bemelmans' illustrations.

The books come with all sorts of praise--from the time they were published to now. At this point in time, part of the enchantment is the "other" culture of the past. Madeline and her peers reside in a convent in Paris pre- and post-World War II. It is a world filled with old plumbing and heating, few cars, huge stoves, peddle sewing machines. No cell phones. No tweeting.

I'm not typically one to extol the past--and I have a great fondness for modern plumbing and heating (though I do enjoy my old-fashioned radiators). And I'm writing this on a computer, which, from 1939-1961, were mostly the province of space programs.

The enchantment of Bemelmans is that unlike recent--not original--Laura Ingalls Wilder tributes, it isn't trying to be a tribute. It just is. Here's Madeline. Here is Miss Clavel. The tone and exuberance resemble the recent Agatha Christie's Criminal Games, a show produced in France--except even the latter is slightly self-conscious. Madeline isn't at all.