An evening with Jack Prelutsky

What makes for a successful poetry reading? Well, if you're Jack Prelutsky, you need a huge repertoire of silly voices.

I took the kids to a special reading, thanks to The Poetry Foundation, at the hoity-toity Latin School of Chicago. The principal translated one of Jack's poems into that ancient language and used stuffed animals to dramatize it. Now, you don't see that at just any poetry reading.

The Poetry Foundation went all out for the very first Children's Poet Laureate, from the engraved invitation to free valet parking (yes!!) to a kid-friendly reception with peanut-butter sandwiches sans crusts. Oh, and yummy cookies in the shape of their Pegasus logo sprinkled with gold-colored dust. Scrumptious.

Everyone received a canvas goody bag, complete with a free book (an anthology he'd edited) plus baseball cap and jump rope to tie in with his newest volume, Good Sports, which I brought along for him to sign. Bonus: I'm reviewing it for Poetry Friday.

Seth didn't really understand the whole book-signing concept. He wanted to write S-E-T-H, which struck him as way more practical than putting someone else's name in his book. You gotta admire the logic.

Back to Jack. He's just like his picture: a slender version of Santa Claus with an upturned nose, ready smile and a twinkle in his eyes. And that voice! It was mellifluous, or it boomed, or it was nasal and twangy, or it was high-pitched and proper; his diction was Queen's English or Brooklynese or growly bear.

We were treated to poems from almost every part of his 40-year career: his first to his most recent, with some background stories about his own childhood and the insipirations behind some of his funnier verses. He apologized for not having a guitar or singing; the straightforward reading was an experiment, he said.

My four-year-old seemed to enjoy it, despite being younger than the elementary-through-middle schoolers with their well-heeled parents. He squealed and guffawed at wrong moments and asked the occasional LOUD question. I kept shushing him, and then felt guilty. I found myself wishing for that guitar, if just to get everyone else's kids to make noise. What is it about these high falutin' shindigs that we expect an awed hush?

Kids ought to be able to hear verses read--with or without musical accompaniment--and sit too closely and giggle too loudly and act like they appreciate all those silly voices. Geez, we're not preparing them for attending wakes.

Don't get me wrong. This was a great event. And there was plenty of applause, especially when kids from local schools read some of Jack's poems. One poor soul took his turn at the precise moment my little daughter had had ENOUGH, but he didn't miss a beat as Princess Fussy Pants was hastily dragged writhing from the room.

I know what you're thinking: I'm the type of awful parent who brings too-young kids and spoils everyone else's fun. Child Protective Services should revoke my parenting license for trying to edjookate my brats while inconveniencing the age-appropriate crowd. Oh yeah? Well, I gotta say this: my hubby overheard Jack complaining afterward that he should've brought the guitar along.

Jack said there wasn't as much laughter as usual. I was sorry to hear that, as I thought it was a mirthful evening.

Comments

[jules]

Thanks for the write-up. Wish I could have seen it!

[MotherReader]

Last night my 8yr old and I were at a ballet where lots of other kids were in attendence (it was Cinderella). She loved it, but at one point I told her to sit up so she could see better (Cinderella's shoe was on the stage itself.) She didn't respond so I whispered it again. In that loud voice that kids must dig out of their soul to embarass parents she said, "I can see fine!" Gotta love it.

Glad you got to the reading. It sounds like it was great fun.

[Anne]

Thanks, both of you. Yes, kids have that special instinct for embarrassing us. Just wait until adolescence, though. We'll be back with a vengeance.