Okay, in the interest of full disclosure, it is my duty to be completely honest and state that I do not like Glenn Beck. There you have it. But I implore you, kind reader, do not accuse me of liberal bias otherwise I will be forced to write a nasty nasty blog post about you that no one will ever read. So check yourself.
As a picture book aficionado, I pride myself on not letting politics get in the way of enjoying a quality book. Lynne Cheney, wife of one of the most odious men on the planet, wrote several quality picture books, one of which (A is for Abigail: An Almanac of Amazing American Women) will be in my future child/children/childlike robotic construct's library. Granted the book owes much of its pop to a brilliant performance by Robin Preiss Glasser of Fancy Nancy fame, but let's give the wife of the devil her due: she wrote an excellent book that I have recommended to more than a few people. If you want a book for your child that celebrates women from Edith Wharton to Sandra Day O'Connor to Mary Martin then I recommend it to you as well.
So don't fault me for calling Let's Read About It, penned by Laura and Jenna Bush and drawn by Denise Brunkus (Junie B. Jones), one of the worst picture books of the decade. My back-to-back votes for Nader have nothing to do with despising this inane drivel and giving it a user review so scathing that barnesandnoble.com refused to print it, despite a complete lack of foul language and the only user review in history to boast near-perfect grammar.
So don't fault me for giving The Christmas Sweater somewhere between a "meh" and a "blah."
I swear to you, I had a completely open mind when I sat down on my couch ready to get my Beck on. That mind was immediately changed from open to only slightly ajar when I saw the title page. I couldn't find a pic on the first five pages of a google images search, so I'll give it my best approximation:
The Christmas Sweater
A PICTURE BOOK
Illustrated by Brandon Dorman
Adapted by Chris Schoebinger
Original story by
GLENN BECK with
KEVIN BALFE and JASON WRIGHT
I knew going into this that Beck released the original Sweater, a grownup novel, last year around this time. I didn't read it and had no idea that he had not one but two helper writers. I did not know that he didn't even write the book that I was holding in my hands. It was adapted by someone else, adapted from a book that two other people helped him write. Which now makes it even easier to judge the book without bringing in my prejudice; he didn't even write the thing.
Anyways, it's really quite standard wannabe Dickens fare: a scroogey character (Eddie, a little boy who wants nothing but a bike) is led by something mystical (the unwanted gift of a sweater . . . which turns out to be a magic sweater) through a journey (a dream sequence) that has three major segments (sledding with his Dad, making a gingerbread house with his Mom, flying in a reindeer-pulled sled with his Santa-resembling grandfather). It all comes together nicely when he awakens from his dream, runs downstairs, and completely ignores his fancy new bike as he marvels at his new hand-knit sweater. Schoebinger's words are unremarkable and forgettable, which really is a shame because these types of stories can be saved by a heaping dose of style: a poetic and gorgeous bit of prose that Schoebinger doesn't even begin to approach. Instead it reads like every adaptation to every Disney movie: lifeless and sterile.
All of that being said, some beautiful artwork might have salvaged this book. Brandon Dorman certainly possesses the skills, as shown in his eye-popping work on Jack Prelutsky's The Wizard. Dorman shows flashes of a Chris Van Allsberg sensibility here and there, but overall his work on The Christmas Sweater comes up a bit short. In a vacuum all of the individual pictures are lovely indeed, but the emotion and magic never quite comes together. Eddie's expression barely changes throughout most of the book leaving him looking wooden and, well, kind of creepy. One of the last pictures, a shot from behind Eddie as he sleepily creeps down the staircase on Christmas morning, is absolutely gorgeous . . . and it's no coincidence that it's the only picture of Eddie that excludes his face. Dorman's use of light and shadow is truly fantastic and a few of his portrayals of adults are vibrant and full of life, but if you can't inject an emotive quality into the face of your main character, what's the point? He should have, and can, do much better.
All in all, there's really no reason to buy The Christmas Sweater. There are loads of picture books with similar themes that are better on every single front. The only reason anyone would buy into this mediocrity would be because of the "Glenn Beck" slapped right at the top of the cover . . . of the book he didn't write.
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