From The Literary Hub:
This week, Duke University Press is reissuing James Baldwin’s children’s book, Little Man, Little Man. If you had no idea that James Baldwin ever wrote a children’s book, you’re not alone. In fact, quite a number of established literary writers have dabbled in kids lit. Most people know about the children’s books of writers like Ian Fleming (Chitty Chitty Bang Bang), Salman Rushdie (Haroun and the Sea of Stories), T.S. Eliot (Old Possum’s Book of Practical Cats), Toni Morrison (The Book of Mean People, etc) and even Mark Twain (Advice to Little Girls). But others are more obscure, and in honor of the republication of James Baldwin’s only children’s book, here are a few of these, all of them children’s books (even if made into them after the fact) and all written by writers more famous for their grown-up fiction.
. . . .
Langston Hughes, The First Book of Jazz (1955)
In 1955, Langston Hughes, arguably the most important poet of the Harlem Renaissance, published a jazz explainer book for children! It was the first children’s book to tackle the subject, and it’s a good one: a history of the art form—in sections with titles like “African Drums,” “Old New Orleans,” “Work Songs,” “Jubilees,” “The Blues,” “Ragtime,” and “Boogie-woogie”—and an explanation of the terms, from syncopation to riff. “A part of American music is jazz, born in the South,” Hughes writes. “Woven into it in the Deep South were the rhythms of African drums that today make jazz music different from any other music in the world. Nobody else ever made jazz before we did. Jazz is American music.” NB that The First Book of Jazz was actually the third children’s book written by Hughes. The first was The First Book of Negroes and the second was The First Book of Rhythms.
. . . .
William Faulkner, The Wishing Tree (1927)
William Faulkner only wrote one children’s book—which Maria Popova calls “a sort of grimly whimsical morality tale, somewhere between Alice In Wonderland, Don Quixote, and To Kill a Mockingbird, about a girl who embarks upon a strange adventure on her birthday only to realize the importance of choosing one’s wishes with consideration and kindness”—and it was really only meant for one child: Victoria Franklin, the daughter of his childhood sweetheart Estelle Oldham. Estelle was still married to Victoria’s father, but Faulkner hoped she would cast him off and remarry him instead, which she did two years later—maybe in part because of this book, which Faulkner illustrated and lovingly bound himself. On the first page, he wrote:
For his dear friend
Victoria
on her eighth birthday
Bill he made
this BookAnyone would marry such a gentleman! That said, as Popova points out, Faulkner made copies of the book for at least three more children. Not a problem until Victoria Franklin tried to publish hers—which she eventually did, with Random House, in 1964.
Link to the rest at The Literary Hub
Not the writer but the translator:
Felix Salten’s “Bambi” appeared in German in 1923. The 1928 English translation was by Whittaker Chambers, who at the time was active in the Communist Party.
A few years later Chambers entered the Communist underground and became a spy (technically, a courier). Later still he broke from Communism, became a top editor at “Time” magazine, and came to wide public attention in the 1948 Hiss-Chambers Case.
The first two comments got me to read the OP and, as I scored 9 out of 10 on the name recognition game, I cannot agree that the authors are in any way as obscure as the commentators imply. Mind you, I’ve not actually read any of their works and have no plans to do so …
I got 10 out of 10. For a few of them I’ve read some of their works, but one was because we had to read it for class. I recall thinking I wouldn’t see “The Talented Mr. Ripley” until I read the book, which I still haven’t gotten around to. But that’s why I recognized Highsmith’s name.
Congratulations on a perfect score. I’ve not seen the film but its very existence explains why I recognised Highsmith’s name (like you in fact).
Also, I have to own up to writing a misleading comment: I’ve now remembered that years ago I read “The Name of the Rose” so I score one book by these authors.
Your overall point about their lack of obscurity was correct though 🙂 I also read “The Name of the Rose” after seeing the movie, but for the most part I’m in no hurry to put the others in my to-read pile.
“Mind you, I’ve not actually read any of their works and have no plans to do so …”
So, is name recognition enough for them to be considered ‘famous’?
Since my misspent youth was mostly wasted reading sci-fi, I drew a blank on the names (though I even draw blanks on most of the authors of books I’ve read – unless I’m actively looking for more books by ‘that’ author – far too few do that to/for me. 😉 )
Well yes, in the case of authors name recognition can be enough or I would otherwise have to categorize any author in a genre I don’t read as “not famous” (Stephen King for example).
There are, of course, different levels of author fame and any list of authors I put together would probably include a lot of those SF authors you spent your youth reading even though plenty of non SF readers would not recognise them. And was your youth really wasted and misspent? It sounds rather better than a lot of youthful occupations.
In fact, most of the authors in the OP are famous enough to have small academic industries built about them (or in the case of Joyce large academic and tourist industries).
Hmph. Most of those “famous writers”, I’ve never heard of…
I must travel in the wrong circles as I don’t seem to know any of these ‘famous writers’ …
(or my life has been too sheltered … 😉 )