In her book Tough Boris, Mem Fox tells the story of a pirate who mourns the death of his pet parrot. In this short, 71-word text, she uses words like “massive” and “scruffy” and “greedy” and “fearless” to help readers know that Boris von der Borch is a stereotypical pirate. However when Boris “cried and cried” at the loss of his parrot, the stereotype is shattered and readers are reminded that it is human to feel sadness at the loss of a beloved.
Part of teaching children to read closely is learning to ask, “Is this it? Or is there something more?” While it’s hard to imagine that in 71 short words, there could be anything more, Tough Boris offers the perfect opportunity to help introduce children to the relationship between author and illustrator and train them to look
carefully at the details and nuances present in the pictures.
When readers look closely at the illustrations in Tough Boris, they may notice new details. For example, on the dedication page, there is a picture of a boy holding a violin case on a cliff overlooking the sea and an island with a windmill. Later in the book, we have a close-up of Boris von der Borch’s feet wearing wooden shoes. In another picture, the pirates are fighting over what appears to be the same violin case from the dedication page and Boris has his sword wielded to slay the pirate that takes it from him.
The illustrations of this book are rich with details that support a sub-story that causes readers, young and old, to wonder who the boy is? What is the significance of the violin? Is this book only about a man whose parrot dies or is Boris von der Borch mourning the loss of something else as well? Close, careful scrutiny of the pictures and the words invites speculation and conversation and when it is over, readers awe at what a truly amazing story they didn’t notice the first time they read this book.
Tough Boris is one example of a book that presents students with interesting problems to solve. It forces readers to look and look again and wonder about what they understand and question if there is still more to learn–hallmarks of critical thinking. If there is one goal that defines close reading, it is to lead readers to deep understandings of texts. When we carefully select text that gives readers much to think about, rich conversation and deep thinking are inevitable.
Because today’s post looks specifically at closely reading text and illustrations, we thought it would be helpful to curate a list of recommendations of similar books, those in which the illustrations carry as much weight of the story as the text. What titles do you suggest?
The Little Mouse, the Red Ripe Strawberry, and the Big Hungry Bear by Don and Audrey Wood comes to mind first. Since Don is the illustrator, we know there is tons of purpose and intent with the illustrations, too. The introductory illustration contains the mouse carrying a ladder. What a great way to start imagining what it would be like to be a mouse picking a strawberry. Put yourself in a mouse’s shoes–it needs a ladder to reach a strawberry. That’s just the beginning the fabulously interwoven text and pictuers. What does it look like to lock up or disguise a strawberry? What a great book for a discussion: who is asking the mouse all these questions? (I for one think it is another animal that would not usually be able to persuade the mouse to share the strawberry unless he made up the threat of a big hungry bear).
Thanks Amber! We don’t know all of these titles and can’t wait to check them out!
Great example of a text that may lend itself to some good close reading questions. However, I wonder if it’s necessarily the right approach to identify a “list of good close reading texts” rather than identifying how close reading can be planned for, structured, and assessed within a coherent instructional unit. Let’s remember that close reads require teachers to account for reading, rereading, text-dependent questions/tasks and thoughtful written assessments of CCSS. The text is certainly an important consideration when planning for a close read, but thoughtful, insightful teachers can take almost any complex, grade-appropriate text as a basis for planning a close read. It’s not necessarily the list of texts that should be the focus, but how the structure of lessons and units can most effectively bring out the best of what a text (and CCSS) has to offer!
We think we need to do both with less emphasis on the list of texts and more work with teachers practicing identifying what makes text complex. That seems to be a sticky wicket for a lot of teachers and a list of suggestions can help to point them in the right direction.
Text complexity may not be the biggest problem. I have some growing concerns about using fiction for close reading. I recently witnessed a professor at a university demonstrate close reading in order to familiarize new teachers with the Common Core reading standards. The text was “Charlotte’s Web”; the audience was a group of teachers grades 3-6.
The instructor began reading.
She began with the familiar, “’Where’s Papa going with that ax?’” but stopped at Fern’s impassioned cry, “’Please don’t kill it!’she sobbed. “It’s unfair.’”
“Now, what details do we notice about the story?” the instructor looked expectantly over a list of prepared questions.
Really, I thought, you are going to interrupt the narrative to pick out details?
Teachers dutifully noted Fern’s soppy sneakers and the earth smells.
The instructor nodded and returned to the text. She continued until Mr. Arable got to say, “’I’ll let you start it on a bottle, like a baby. Then you’ll see what trouble a pig can be’” and then the instructor interrupted him with the question, “What did you find out about the characters so far?”
Again, dutiful teachers participated and noted Fern’s age and Mr. Arable’s “queer look”.
A few more sentences down the page, I heard, “’Fern couldn’t take her eyes off the tiny pig. “Oh,” she whispered. “Oh, look at him! He’s absolutely perfect.’”
“What is this story beginning to be about?” I heard the instructor say.
Beginning to be about? How would anyone know? Forget the story, I thought, not one kid will care because you keep interrupting! One of the most brilliantly constructed opening chapters in children’s literature has been drained of any power. EB White’s brilliant narrative was not written to be picked apart..
Now, I recognize that this was merely a demonstration, and that close reading is meant for a second or third reading, but as I detail above, my hackles went up during this exercise.
At a time when we are desperate to engage students in reading, at a time when our students are reading less and less independently, this mind numbing, practice of creating text-dependent questions to determine if students are reading closely is being employed. While this close reading may prove fruitful for informational texts, this frequent interruption of a narrative is harmful to a story. “Charlotte’s Web” speaks for itself.
Kelly Gallagher calls this practice Readicide: The systematic killing of the love of reading, often exacerbated by the inane, mind-numbing practices found in schools. We need to be careful that close reading does not develop into this inane practice.