Customer Reviews

The Little House

5 star:		(62)
4 star:		(10)
3 star:		(1)
2 star:		(1)
1 star:		(1)

 

 

This is one of earliest 'reading' books that I remember from my youth more than 40 years ago, but it still has impact on me now. Its allegorical tale of how a beautiful little house becomes encroached by urban civilization, falls into disrepair and disfavour, and then discovers a new life when a fresh pair of eyes see its intrinsic value is truly a timeless one. When I was young and had it read to me by my father it worked on a simple level, and then 25 years later when I rediscovered it by reading it to my own son, I found it working on another, quite adult level. It is truly a gem of a book with a strong message of values for today, even 50 years after it was written. Beautifully yet simply illustrated. Highly recommended.

The noted children's book about a house built on a hill away from any town. As the years pass, the city comes closer and closer and eventually surrounds the little house which misses its old hills and trees. One earlier reviewer expressed concern about the apparent anti-urban bias. I think Burton simply had a pro-nature bias rather than anti-urban. And, I think any of us, including those who live in cities or suburbia would not care to live in the sprawl that was depicted in the illustrations and was indeed present in many cities in the 1940s when the book first came out. The book won the 1943 Caldecott Medal for best illustration in a book for children.

The year is 1942 and America has fallen head over heels in love with a whole new literary form. It's sweeping the nation! It's appearing hither and yon! Yes, in the early 1940s, picture books were suddenly awash in inanimate objects with human characteristics. Whether it was "The Little Red Lighthouse and the Great Grey Bridge", or the Caldecott winning, "The Little House", children were reading about a variety of living breathing pieces of architecture. Virginia Lee Burton was especially good at this kind of book. Her previous venture, "Mike Mulligan and His Steam Shovel", was a smash hit (remaining so today). So Burton decided to up the stakes a little and write a similar story about a little house. In this book, however, Burton outdoes herself by being able to convey seasons, the passage of time, and the nasty ways cities have of encroaching on country landscapes all within a scant 40 pages.

Long ago a little house was built in the country. The man who built her decided that this house, special as it was, could never be bought and sold. Instead, he planned on leaving it to his children, his children's children, and his children's children's children. Etc. The house was pleased with the arrangement. It watched the seasons go by. It watched the children that played in it grow up and move away. It even watched the changing fashions and modes of transportation. Horse and buggies one day, automobiles the next. This is all well and good until a new asphalt road appears. Suddenly it's a heckuva lot easier for people to reach the area in which the little house lives. Things get faster and suddenly the little house is surrounded by tenement houses. Then there are trolley cars (oh the trolley cars). Next comes elevated trains, and subways, and (worst of all) gigantic skyscrapers on either side of the now seriously dilapidated little house. One day, a descendent of the original owner sees the house and inquires after it. Since it turns out she owns it (I guess... the book's a little shaky on the legal aspects of ownership at this point) the house is summarily picked up by movers and taken to the country she loves so much. Happy house. Happy family. The end.

I wonder what the percentage is of children reading this book and realizing that, in time, the city will probably come to surround the little house yet again. There has probably never been a better book that delineates so clearly the horrors of urban sprawl. On a less hoity-toity level, this is just a darn good book. Burton's illustrations are simple little paintings with tiny human figures. Due to the fact that there are nineteen pictures of the little house that are basically looking at it straight on without any change in perspective or angle, it's mind-boggling that Burton has still managed to make every single illustration unique and interesting. Whether she's filled the page with autumnal colors, or is driving home the horror of the little house's fate through stark black and white images, these pictures are incredibly well done. Kids reading the book will enjoy the different vehicles and tiny human figures that dot each page. Adults will enjoy the craft Burton has taken with her storytelling.

There are a lot of Caldecott award winning books that have aged oh-so badly. "Animals of the Bible" comes to mind as does the gawdawful "Abraham Lincoln" by the Parin d'Aulaires. This book, however, is well worthy of its praise. It may not be a flashy irony-soaked post-modern picture book like the ones being written today (and admittedly, I love a good irony-soaked picture book as much as the next gal) but it holds its ground and deserves to be remembered. Give it half a chance and you'll wind up loving it.

As with many of the reviewers here, this was my favorite book as a child, and I consider it to be Virginia Lee Burton's quintessential work. While all her books are wonderful, none have the childlike simplicity and artistry of The Little House.

That this book won the Caldecott Medal is no surprise. The illustrations jump off the page. Each page is meticulously drawn with enough vibrant color and detail to peruse for several minutes. Each of the seasons in the country is vividly pictured. As the city encroaches upon the Little House, the frame changes subtly from page to page to show the slow transition from rural to urban life.

Both of my children (6 and 3 years of age) are captivated by the illustrations and the story. Reading this book aloud to them brings back fond memories of the countless hours I spent engrossed in it as a child. I cannot emphasize enough how wonderful it truly is. Even 60 years after it was written, it still has the power to tug at the heart.

This has got to be the best all-round Virginia Lee Burton book, which means it's one of the best children's books of all time. The simple prose reaches a level of lyricism not found in Mike Mulligan, and the illustrations have a folksy charm and energy that's just right. Reading it as an adult, one thinks of all the little houses that were NOT saved, and of the ongoing suburban sprawl that's even now despoiling the landscape, but the fact that the eponymous little house is moved and cared for once again by the end makes it a good story for little kids. Other books by Burton tend to wear me down with repetition, but this one remains fresh with almost every rereading that my kids demand.

Quite simply, this is one of the most beautifully illustrated childrens books of all time. There are no computer graphics, but the simple illustrations have a definite folksy, Americana feel about them. The pages where Burton depicts the changing seasons are gorgeous, and have lost none of their vivacity. I can't imagine not always having a copy of this book around to show my nephews and nieces, and to read to them. It's a keeper, and I will gladly go through tens of copies just to ensure it's always around.

Kids love the book because of the picture, and the great sequencing. I love the book because it's just well written, and I have memories of having it read to me when I was in kindergarten.

This has always been one of my mother's favorite books, and it's also been one of mine as well. I think this book ages rather well, and it's an interesting look at the growth and development of the country. Some may see this book as being "anti-development", but it's hard not to sympathize with the house as the landscape around her changes and becomes less familiar.

My last thought is that I hope when I do have nephews and nieces that there still will be countrysides like the ones depicted in this book.

This is another great classic that should be in every child's library. A winner of the Caldecott award in 1942, this book is just timeless. It begins in Victorian times showing the little house with horse-drawn carriages and ladies dressed in their finery, and progresses to the "advances" with cars and trucks. It tells the story of a house that wonders what it's like to live in the city and unfortunately, finds out. Gone is the beautiful countryside which is replaced with large buildings, railways, cars, subways, etc. Then the great-great granddaughter sees the house and moves it back to the countryside to live in it with her family and makes the house very happy. It's a truly neat story because it is what happened to the author's own home. You have to get this book for your children - it's just so sweet and neat how the book ends. Progress isn't always progress. My little guy just loved it and I read my copy to him which shows how important of a classic this one is to have. Mine is over 35 years old.

I absolutely loved this book as a child. As a child, I did not grasp the message about urbanization, but even before I could read I would love to look at the drawings. The drawings are really detailed and show people enjoying the countryside, construction vehicles as the city approached and buildings as the city surrounded the house. As a child who wished that there was a pond out back to swim in and who was intrigued with construction vehicles, this book captivated me. And I felt sad about the loss of the countryside, so perhaps I did actually understand the warnings of the book. A book that has amazing illustrations and teaches a lesson? You can be sure that I am buying copies for my nieces.

This delightful little book was written many years ago, but the story has not aged at all and the quaint illustrations now add to the book's charm. A little house is built in the country and the builders/owners say that the little house will never be torn down and will remain so that future generations can continue living there. As time goes on, the noise of the city is heard until eventually the little house is a part of a very big city.

The story is a pure delight. However, it also contains some subtle messages about the effects of urbanization and an appreciation for the simple things in life. The book also helps children learn about seasons as the little house watches one season pass into the next. Great book.

This is a little like a child's introduction to the problems of rampant urban development! It certainly was that for me.

It's a sweet, well-organized and beautifully illustrated story of a little house that had a whole metropolis built up around it. She (yes, the house is referred to in the feminine) gets a new life on a new lot in the country when a descendant of the original owner discovers her amidst a smog-choked, noisy city.

One poignant thought: more than fifty years ago, when this story was published, there was still plenty of rural room to just pick up and move to. In this children's story some social historian could find some fine irony about the postwar suburbal exodus. But aside from an unwanted tinge of "we can run away from our problems," the story was able to point out for this young listener the ills of pollution. Still in all, a wonderful book.