Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

Review by a Sean 23 years youngerFoA Cover - Where the Wild Things Are

Where the Wild Things Are is my best favorite book. My Uncle Jay gave it to me. I can even read it myself sometimes. Actually, when my Uncle Jay gave me the book, I couldn’t read. But my mom helped me really. Yeah, it’s the first book I ever read by myself! Every night, maybe but, my mom tucked me in and read to me. After some time I started to look more at the words than the pictures. Mom always pointed at the words and that helped her say them, I guess. One day, she asked me to point at the words and she could still say them but I couldn’t. Pointing at the words didn’t help until I started learning the letters. The words on the front, I read those first. After that, W was one of my favorite letters!

I always felt so lucky because I know my mom never sends me to bed without supper like Max’s mom did. She was so mean to him but I know Max was a naughty boy sometimes. I always wanted his costume. Max had the best costume so I know his mom was nice, too. She gave him the costume even! My mom would never sends me to bed without supper but she also made me eat Brussels sprouts. I hate Brussels sprouts. One time, she made me eat like fifty! But I love my mom anyway. Especially because she read to me The Wild Things! In the book, after Max went to the land of the wild things, mom and I would yell so loud, “let the wild rumpus start!” I think a rumpus is when you laugh and smile really big with your mom or somebody. I wish I could dance like the wild things but my legs are too short and my arms aren’t long enough and I don’t have Max’s costume. Even before I could read Where the Wild Things Are, I knew that on the second to last page, Max’s mom changed her mind and left some soup for Max. After he came back, the soup was waiting for him and it was still hot. Actually, my mom and I always race to say that, “…and it was still hot!” and then we had a rumpus again because mom and I always laugh at how fast we could say it.

My Uncle Jay went to sleep a long time ago but it’s okay because mom said he was so tired. But I know that before I go to bed, after mom tucks me in and I cose my eyes, I put on my pretend wild thing costume and I travel far, far away to have a wild rumpus with my Uncle Jay.

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4 thoughts on “Where the Wild Things Are by Maurice Sendak

  1. I find it funny that in the first two posts for Scout’s Friends, people have mentioned the disappointment in the respective movie versions of the books reviewed.

    I think that relates to the difficulty in translating ones nostalgic feelings and childhood imagination to the big screen.

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