The Shrinking of Treehorn

Description

"If you want to pretend you're shrinking, that's all right," said Treehorn's mother, "as long as you don't do it at the table." A small boy finds himself shrinking in this oddly offbeat, surreal, and funny story, illustrated with Edward Gorey's signature pen and ink drawings. No one around seems to appreciate what Treehorn's going through--his parents are busy, his friends laugh at him, and he gets sent to the Principal's office for shrinking. Or was it shirking? Clearly, the adults in his life have no clue and can't help. In the end, Treehorn figures it out on his own, and all is well. At least until he turns green. A charming, imaginative classic that will appeal to any kid who feels they're not truly seen or heard by the grown-ups in their life. Works for adults, too. An ALA Notable Children's Book A New York Times Book Review Best Illustrated Book of the Year

Florence Parry Heide (1919 - 2011) was born in Pittsburgh and graduated from the University of California, Los Angeles in 1939. The author of more than 100 children's books, she and her husband made their home in Kenosha, Wisconsin. Edward Gorey (1925 - 2000) was born in Chicago and received his B.A. from Harvard. A master of dark humor, he said his formal art training had been "negligible." He wrote more than 100 books including The Gashlycrumb Tinies, The Doubtful Guest, and Amphigorey. In addition to the Treehorn triology, he illustrated works from T.S. Eliot, Edward Lear, John Updike, Charles Dickens, H.G. Wells, and Bram Stoker. He lived on Cape Cod and in New York City.

"Sheer fun." -School Library Journal "For any child who has often felt ignored by the adult world, here is a perfect gift to lift the spirits...will bring a chorus of delight from younger readers." -Publishers Weekly "It is always a pleasure to see that a new vehicle has been found for Edward Gorey's distinctive drawings, and in this instance a fey, imaginative little tale that fits them to perfection....The Alice-in-Wonderland quality of shrinking and regrowth is deftly treated. Gorey's drawings-old-fashioned yet a little mod, Beardsleyesque yet Sunday-School clean, popping out with a marvelous control of space and odd angles-enhance the feel of melancholy and magic. They conjure up memories of listing attics, fatal lozenges, curious sofas, Willowdale handcars and wuggly umps. Not to mention nursery friezes, pious infants, vinegar works and doubtful guests." -The New York Times