Pop Culture Care Package: Toys Go Out
Better Than Toy Story (yeah, I said it!)
This may seem like a recommendation just for those caring for small children, but I’d say it’s a soul-balm for readers of all ages, regardless of how many kids are in your residence.
Friends, I’m here today to spread the good word of Toys Go Out. The bookwormy among you may already be familiar with the author Emily Jenkins by her nom de YA, E. Lockhart, whose Disreputable History of Frankie Landau-Banks is one of my favorites of all time. Here’s the truth: I love Toys Go Out (and its sequels) even more than Frankie.
Toys Go Out has everything, and it knows it. I mean. Here’s the subtitle: Being the Adventures of a Knowledgeable Stingray, a Toughy Little Buffalo, and Someone Called Plastic. Well might you wonder: with a lavish subtitle such as this, was Toys Go Out published sometime in the 1800s? No, friends, this is a contemporary chapter book published for young readers in 2006! With sequels following along in 2008 (Toy Dance Party) and 2011 (Toys Come Home), respectively.
So this is a contemporary series about sentient toys and their adventures (some of which are mis-, but all of which resolve in satisfying and realistically hopeful ways). Each chapter of each book stands alone nicely if you prefer to read episodically. They’ve got pencil drawings by Paul O. Zelinsky, which are so warm and rich with detail and wit and life. And the sequels guarantee that once you’re hooked, there will be more to enjoy.
Dame Sophie, you may wonder, isn’t this just Toy Story, But A Book? No friends, it’s even better. How? So glad you asked!
First of all, the jokes are more delightful. They’re more sly, they use slapstick more judiciously, and they frequently also develop a character more fully. What’s more, they work more than once.
Secondly, the toy psychology is at once more sophisticated and more recognizably child-like. Woody and Buzz and the Potato Heads and so on are toys that are adults. Stingray, Lumphy, and Plastic are children, and kids will recognize that. Jenkins has grafted the deft psychological insights of the greatest living American author, Beverly Cleary (again: I said what I said, happy 104th birthday to a queen who still walks among us!) onto a genre that’s been enthralling readers for a long time.
Thirdly, and accordingly, the stakes are child-sized. That is, they feel huge to the toys while being manageable for child (or adult) readers to metabolize. The toys love each other, but they don’t always like each other. They squabble, they get scared, they band together, they’re jealous of each other’s place in The Little Girl’s affections, they lie, they investigate, they comfort.
I’m not here to rain on a Toy Story parade. I love those movies (though I haven’t seen the 4th; I think I have never fully recovered from the incinerator scene in the third installment) and I love these books even more.
So! Snag an ebook from your library, order a copy from your local indie if you can, or pull it off your shelf if these books are already in your home library, and thrill to the modest, deeply relatable adventures of a bossyboots stingray, a courageous buffalo, and a hopeful someone called Plastic. For best results, read it aloud to a friend (or their child) over Zoom so you can feel some of the specialness baked into every page.
As ever, thank you for reading Two Bossy Dames. Hit the button to upgrade to a paid subscription if you wanna!