Suppose You Met a Witch (review)

"Suppose you met a witch. . . .  . . . SupposeShe pounced from out a bush,She touched you, she clutched you,What would you do? . . . ."

Ian Serraillier's deliciously scary poem poses a timeless fairy-tale question and answers it by way of Miranda and Roland's hair-curling adventures with Grimblegrum, a terrifying twist of witchy, warty willow-root. Lucky for Miranda that she is the proud possessor of a magic wand that—eventually—enables her to outwit Grimblegrum's evil plans.

This read-aloud story in verse is loosely based on Sweetheart Roland by the Brothers Grimm. Happily, it leaves at least some of the gorier violence behind. And, ecstatically, it transforms Miranda from a passive, long-suffering, love-lorn maiden into a vital, no-nonsense female, "quick in all she did, a nimble wit, her brain / busy as a hive of bees at honey time." Roland, too escapes the familiar male chauvinist piglet model, being a "mild and dreamy boy / musical as a lark" who bravely strikes up a song even as the two children are clapped in Grimblegrum's sack and borne away to be dinner.

Miranda quickly proves herself the real heroine of the tale. It is she who takes on the lion's share of thwarting the witch's hearty appetite for nice, plump children. She transforms herself and Roland into great white swans that fly away to freedom. But Grimblegrum's art nouveau seven-league boots soon put her just a few steps behind her prey. As she chants, "Gobble you yet, I'll gobble you yet," Miranda once again wields her wand. On one of the more spectacular double-page spreads in the book, Emberley captures the swans just at the point of their magical transmutation-Miranda into filagree rosebush, and Roland into piper. And just in the nick of time! As Grimblegrum reaches out her yellow-clawed hand to pluck the rose, Roland's magic flute dances her into a convenient thornbush:

"One note one,She spun like a top.

Two notes two,She hopped and couldn't stop.

Three notes three,and into that thorny, thistle-y treewith a hop, skip, and jump went she."

The children make their final escape, and a cowherd finishes the job by burning all that wickedness into a quiet, dark cinder. . . . But, as we've been warned at the beginning, that may not be the end of the tale. After all, the whole poem is a warning: the clays and dangers of witchcraft are still not over; if YOU met a witch, you'd better have a W-A-N-D handy.

This book is an excellent marriage of verbal and visual arts for children. It avoids the familiar trap of condescending. Despite the lush illustrations, it doesn't supply everything. The language is somewhat difficult and sophisticated. Serraillier's poetry is roughly-textured, full of slant rhymes, uneven lines, and a beguiling sense of word play which is so often missing from the watered-down, easy-reading, patronizing pages of juvenile literature. Listen as Grimblegrum dances to her doom:

"Hi!    Ho!        shrieked she, and "Tickle-me-thistle!" and "Prickle-de-dee!"And battered she was as she trotted and tripped,And her clothes were torn and tattered and ripped,till at last,all mingled and mangled,her right leg entangled,her left leg right-angled,firm as a prisoner pinned to the mast,she    stuck        fast."

Kids will probably miss the literal meaning of some of the words in the poem—did you ever hear of a "tantivy" (headlong, galloping) rhyme? I didn't. But that's okay. In fact, it's great. Too many books give children no room for mental stretch. This one gives young listeners the fun of puzzling out the meaning of new words from their context, or from their relationship with the pictures. Or they can simply sit back to...