[.ca] Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom (ISBN 0064462358)

From Amazon.com:
Ursula Nordstrom, editorial director of Harper's Department of Books for Boys and Girls from 1940 to 1973 and a formidable creative force in 20th-century children's book publishing, was responsible for polishing and shepherding countless dog-eared classics from Where the Wild Things Are to Charlotte's Web to Harriet the Spy. One of the most remarkable things about this extraordinary woman was her prolific correspondence with her cherished team of children's book authors and illustrators, all of whom she liked to call "Genius." Fortunately, many of her letters--warm, witty, temperamental, flattering, extravagant, self-deprecating, sympathetic, and always human--have been culled from HarperCollins's archives, gathered from many generous individuals, and arranged in chronological order by the noted biographer and critic Leonard S. Marcus. The result is Dear Genius: The Letters of Ursula Nordstrom, complete with black-and-white photographs, extensive footnotes, a bibliography, and an index. In this fascinating behind-the-scenes look at children's book publishing, letters to Shel Silverstein, Maurice Sendak, Laura Ingalls Wilder, John Steptoe, and Kay Thompson reveal a woman on an unorthodox quest to wrench children's literature from the stultifying clutches of sentimental illusion and false piety. Her dedication to creative, honest, original, non-condescending books for children changed the landscape of children's literature forever. As Marcus writes in his introduction, "...her letters have much to tell about the arts of writing, illustrating, and editing; the social history of the twentieth century; and the pivotal role that books, and a love of books, can play in children's lives. To read the letters is to receive a many-faceted education from a teacher of rare insight, good humor, and lively humanity. I am glad that readers will now be able to share in the experience."

She really is the "Max Perkins" of children's literature.:
Ursula seemed to know EVERYBODY. While this book is a fascinating look at some of the "big name" writers of children's literature, I really was hoping for more biographical data to accompany the letters. It was a frustrating reading experience at times. Ursula seemed to be "treading on ice" when she wrote letters to E. B. White and Laura Ingalls Wilder, but totally free and breezy (and perhaps bordering on rude at times) when writing to other authors. I was puzzled from time to time at the complete changes in Ursula's tone . . . and I am more curious than ever about Louise Fitzhugh, writer of "Harriet The Spy." Something went wrong in Louise's life after writing "Harriet," but there are few clues in this book to explain what happened. Ursula apparently took some of her most interesting knowledge to the grave; I wish I knew more.

Makes you wish you were one of "her" writers...:
I am so glad Leonard Marcus researched the author Margaret Wise Brown, which led him to her editor, Ursula Nordstrom, which resulted in this collection of Nordstrom's letters. They're as hard to put down as the best novel...warm, chatty and, most importantly, insightful. The only thing that's missing is some of the back-story: What caused Nordstrom's falling-out with Meindert DeJong? Mary Stolz? Louise Fitzhugh? Nevertheless, a delightful look at arguably one of the most influential editors of this century and an important contribution to the understanding of literature for children.

Fascinating Look at Publishing's Heyday:
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.

A WISE, HAPPY MENTOR:
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.

A Real Inspiration:
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.