By Maurice Sendak

Where the Wild Things Are is one of those truly rare books that can be enjoyed equally by a child & a grown-up. If you disagree, then it’s been too long since you’ve attended a wild rumpus. Max dons his wolf suit in pursuit of some mischief & gets sent to bed without supper. Fortuitously, a forest grows in his room, allowing his wild rampage to continue unimpaired. Sendak’s color illustrations, perhaps his finest, are beautiful. Each turn of the page brings the discovery of a new wonder.

The wild things–with mismatched parts & giant eyes–manage somehow to be scary-looking without ever really being scary; at times they’re downright hilarious. Sendak’s defiantly run-on sentences–one of his trademarks–lend the perfect touch of stream of consciousness to the tale, which floats between the land of dreams & a child’s imagination.

This Sendak classic is more fun than you’ve ever had in a wolf’s suit, giggle-stiflingly funny at times, & even manages to reaffirm the notion that there’s no place like home.

In hardcover