Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom

Rating:
Summary: A Real Inspiration
Review: A must read for any writer or lover of children's books, Dear Genius gives remarkable insight into the mind and career of Ursula Nordstrom, long-time director of Harper's children's literature department. Ursula poured her heart into many of her professional relationships, and her letters to authors, critics and fans are shrewd, witty, intelligent and sometimes sad--I didn't want it to end, but of course it had to, leaving me wanting more.

Rating:
Summary: Fascinating Look at Publishing's Heyday
Review: In "Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom," biographer Leonard S. Marcus allows his subject to speak for herself. By doing so Marcus mirrors the woman he profiles and the symmetry between biographer and subject sets the dynamic tone for this book.

Nordstrom's editorial prowess is evident in the correspondence she carried on with her authors during a publishing career that spanned over 30 years. She provided gentle and insightful guidance to Maragret Wise Brown, Syd Hoff, Maurice Sendak, and E.B. White among many others.

Nordstrom's genius was that she recognized and fostered it in others. Her letters reveal her to be an editor who respected but didn't pander to her sometimes temperamental talent. She knew when to cajole, inspire or reprimand them; she was awed by their gifts without being infatuated by them. Nordstrom forged a bond of artistic integrity with her authors and illustrators that gave rise to some of the best voices to be found in children's literature between 1940-1973.

This is an insider's look at someone's life work and abiding passion - classic literature for children.

Rating:
Summary: A WISE, HAPPY MENTOR
Review: She was cajoler, enabler, champion, critic, and friend. She was Ursula Nordstrom, Director of Harper's Department of Books for Boys and Girls from 1940 to 1973 - a one of-a-kind editor who took 20th century children's literature by the scruff of the neck and gave it a good shake.

Mentor to such luminaries as Maurice Sendak, Ruth Krauss, E. B. White, Shel Silverstein, and Garth Williams, she was a visionary who dared publish the antithesis of yesteryear's bland, sugary children's prose. Thanks to her discernment and determination youngsters found thrall in a myriad of now time-honored stories, including Charlotte's Web, Goodnight Moon, and Where The Wild Things Are.

Reading her collected letters titled Dear Genius (for she considered each of her authors and artists to be preternaturally gifted) is tantamount to having a lively, albeit too brief, one-on-one with the self-effacing, wry Ms. Nordstrom. You leave her presence reluctantly, knowing that such stimulating conversation is rare.

The only child of two beautiful people - "a gaslight-era matinee idol" and a pretty young actress, the editor would "forever regard herself as an ugly duckling born of swans." This lack of personal self-confidence didn't temper her considerable professional aplomb. When a doughty influential librarian challenged her by asking "what qualified her, a nonlibrarian, nonteacher, nonparent, and noncollege graduate to publish children's books," Ms. Nordstrom replied, "Well, I am a former child, and I haven't forgotten a thing."

Unmarried and childless, she nonetheless related companionably to youngsters, continually seeking to publish books that would make "any child feel warmed and attended to and considered." Belittlers of her choices were dismissed as "adults who sift their reactions to children's books through their own messy adult maladjustments."

Fearlessly confrontational in defense of her authors and artists, she was also psychological and practical support, shoring up a diffident young Sendak with, "You may not be Tolstoy, but Tolstoy wasn't Sendak, either." To Garth Williams, whom she feared financially strapped, she offered a monthly stipend.

A chatty, voluble correspondent Ms. Nordstrom's letters hold self-revelatory comments - a regard for Adlai Stevenson; an aversion to New York City - "a cement island;" and eclectic tastes: "Would Virginia Woolf be sickened to know that she is loved by one who also reads `Confidential'?"

Her notes are punctuated with an engaging, self-deprecating wit, as when she admitted, "....I may have tried to impress you at one time with the beauty and general poetry of my existence....That is balderdash, dear.....I am a real mess...I can walk onto a lovely green plot of land, and tall strong trees turn brown..."

These letters, penned between 1937 and 1982 are a chronicle of the highlights in the children's publishing world, as well as affirmation of the editor's devotion to her craft and colleagues.

Ursula Nordstrom left no immediate heirs when she died in 1982 - generation upon generation of delighted "warmed and attended to" children are her beneficiaries.

Rating:
Summary: A WISE, HAPPY MENTOR
Review: She was cajoler, enabler, champion, critic, and friend. She was Ursula Nordstrom, Director of Harper's Department of Books for Boys and Girls from 1940 to 1973 - a one of-a-kind editor who took 20th century children's literature by the scruff of the neck and gave it a good shake.

Mentor to such luminaries as Maurice Sendak, Ruth Krauss, E. B. White, Shel Silverstein, and Garth Williams, she was a visionary who dared publish the antithesis of yesteryear's bland, sugary children's prose. Thanks to her discernment and determination youngsters found thrall in a myriad of now time-honored stories, including Charlotte's Web, Goodnight Moon, and Where The Wild Things Are.

Reading her collected letters titled Dear Genius (for she considered each of her authors and artists to be preternaturally gifted) is tantamount to having a lively, albeit too brief, one-on-one with the self-effacing, wry Ms. Nordstrom. You leave her presence reluctantly, knowing that such stimulating conversation is rare.

The only child of two beautiful people - "a gaslight-era matinee idol" and a pretty young actress, the editor would "forever regard herself as an ugly duckling born of swans." This lack of personal self-confidence didn't temper her considerable professional aplomb. When a doughty influential librarian challenged her by asking "what qualified her, a nonlibrarian, nonteacher, nonparent, and noncollege graduate to publish children's books," Ms. Nordstrom replied, "Well, I am a former child, and I haven't forgotten a thing."

Unmarried and childless, she nonetheless related companionably to youngsters, continually seeking to publish books that would make "any child feel warmed and attended to and considered." Belittlers of her choices were dismissed as "adults who sift their reactions to children's books through their own messy adult maladjustments."

Fearlessly confrontational in defense of her authors and artists, she was also psychological and practical support, shoring up a diffident young Sendak with, "You may not be Tolstoy, but Tolstoy wasn't Sendak, either." To Garth Williams, whom she feared financially strapped, she offered a monthly stipend.

A chatty, voluble correspondent Ms. Nordstrom's letters hold self-revelatory comments - a regard for Adlai Stevenson; an aversion to New York City - "a cement island;" and eclectic tastes: "Would Virginia Woolf be sickened to know that she is loved by one who also reads 'Confidential'?"

Her notes are punctuated with an engaging, self-deprecating wit, as when she admitted, "....I may have tried to impress you at one time with the beauty and general poetry of my existence....That is balderdash, dear.....I am a real mess...I can walk onto a lovely green plot of land, and tall strong trees turn brown..."

These letters, penned between 1937 and 1982 are a chronicle of the highlights in the children's publishing world, as well as affirmation of the editor's devotion to her craft and colleagues.

Ursula Nordstrom left no immediate heirs when she died in 1982 - generation upon generation of delighted "warmed and attended to" children are her beneficiaries.