Weight - 0.3
Depth - 8.80
Width - 9.80
Height - 0.30
Where the Wild Things Are is one of those truly rare books that can be enjoyed equally by a child and 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 and 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, and each turn of the page brings
the discovery of a new wonder. The wild things--with their mismatched parts and 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 and a child's imagination.
This Sendak classic is more fun than you've ever had in a wolf suit, and it manages to reaffirm the notion that there's
no place like home.