Wild Thing: You Made My Heart Sing

Sigh... I have more sad news to share. Maurice Sendak, the beloved children's book illustrator/author, has passed away at age 83. Sendak was responsible for my absolute favorite book as a child, Where The Wild Things Are (1963). 

Thank you Mr. Sendak for the wild journey. Photo ©2004 Jeremy Clowe. All rights reserved.

As a kid I read and re-read the story of young Max, who was sent to his room without any supper for being unruly. Clad in his "terrifying" wolf suit, he sulks and then conjures up a grand tale of sailing off on the open seas to the land of the Wild Things. Under a moonlit sky, he is first scared by and then commands the group of grotesque monsters, who come to call him King-- "Let the wild rumpus begin!"

What glorious pages of imaginative, beautifully caricatured, colorful work that book contained. The things that stood out for me most were the monsters, Max's headstrong and shifting moods, the way the room changes into a forest, and finally the way Max misses his well-meaning family. He returns to his room... to find his dinner outside the door−and it was still warm.

While a student at the University of Southern California in the early 90s, I came across the book again in the campus bookstore, and had to buy it. I delighted in revisiting this tale that so captured my imagination, and wondered where the "missing pages" were? 

An article in the Washington Post perfectly sums up the artist's gift to sensitive children like me: "Sendak’s work allows children to come to terms with their fears and nightmares. The Wild Things can be tamed, turned into big teddy bears, no longer frightening monsters of the id..." Another Post writer comments: "The books showed that even children, confronting a range of often terrifying emotions, could through courage and resourcefulness begin to make sense of the world around them."

Taking a walk on the wild side at the Strong Museum, 2004.
Photo ©Jeremy Clowe. All rights reserved.

After I started working at Norman Rockwell Museum and doing interviews with various children's book illustrators, I began to think about trying to contact Sendak. I got to know one friend who had corresponded with Sendak on a number of occasions−he gave me his address, and I started to work on a letter to send the artist... but I hesitated... what could I say that this brilliant man hadn't heard a thousand times before? 

Occasionally I would bring up the idea of doing an exhibition on his work. I had a chance to view some of his original drawings that were on display at the Strong National Museum of Play back in 2004, during the same time a video I created for one of our traveling shows was being exhibited (I longed to sail into the life-size Max boat and get cracking on a similar show).

During lunch with a visitor to my Museum later that year, I learned that the director Spike Jonze was going to be doing a film adaptation of Where The Wild Things Are. Being an admirer of the director's work, I got even more excited... 
When I had the chance to meet Jonze just prior to the movie's release in 2009, I couldn't hide my enthusiasm, telling him how much I loved the book as a kid. This was met with a somewhat wary look from the director−I couldn't tell if it was because the film had been quite difficult to produce, or he was concerned about not meeting my expectations.

The truth is, he couldn't−even the most creative film director couldn't manage to bring this book to life the way I envisioned. Ultimately, I think only Sendak could pull off Sendak. Books like Where The Wild Things Are and In The Night Kitchen (1970) have such a distinct stamp on them... they are journeys into an imaginative realm that begins in your room, kitchen or garden. You are most definitely transported in the way great books do. The stories also had a slight darkness about them that stood out against the more sanitized books for children. They felt real and extraordinary at the same time.

Along with the movie adaptation of the Wild Things, Jonze produced a documentary about Sendak's work. I reached out to try and assist on the project, but didn't get too far (it may have been near completion).

When I finally watched the completed documentary, I felt depressed. Sendak seemed so melancholy and analytical−I couldn't believe that a man who had contributed so much could feel anything but fulfilled.

After I watched that documentary, I think I turned away from the idea of trying to interview him myself. As a child, he was the man with the answers... I looked to his books for comfort, and don't know what I could say to him during moments of his own questioning.

Deep down he must have known what a great gift he gave to us. He helped us stare down the monsters, as he worked on his own. I thought that Maurice Sendak would be around forever, and through his work he always will...  

Related LInks: 

"Maurice Sendak remembered for dark but engaging children's classics,"
The Washington Post, May 9, 2012

"Maurice Sendak, Author of Splendid Nightmares, Dies at 83," The New York Times, May 8, 2012