Children’s stories, the narratives of youth, or rather for youth. The holidays are choked with such offerings, usually intended to inspire the spending of bad money after good. We may enjoy, with our younger family members, a silly and innocent story and we may happily pay for it at the bookstore or the cinema. But, when ‘synergy’ takes over and gives the young ones a ‘complete entertainment experience’ with action figures, happy meals and subscription cell phone service, then at such a moment the silliness and innocence are lost.

Cynicism, speaking personally, tends to make me less inclined to have more than the most limited experience of children’s literature and movies; I suspect impure motives lurking just beneath the surface. As Em and I are currently without children, it is easy for me to maintain such a pompous and superior attitude. For there is (with the occasional exception) no one pleading for me to buy them Bionicles or other fictitious weapons of war.

But I am not without sentiment. And over the past several days, I have taken such delight in two works that were intended for a much younger audience.

The first of these is a no-brainer – The Fantastic Mr. Fox. Wes Anderson continues his exploration into the joy and melancholy of family, just in time for Thanksgiving. But, bound by the constraints of a ‘children’s story’ and delivered as a work of ‘animation’, the bitterness and pain are tamped down so that we can simply enjoy Anderson’s wonderful characters and story-telling without guilt or reservation. I gladly traded depth of the supporting cast (although Ash and Kristofferson are wonderful as two young, uniquely awkward and competitive cousins) for a visual smorgasbord that jumped off the screen with its low-tech magic. The film’s very high score on Metacritic is easy to understand.

The other bit of youth narrative I have enjoyed so much lately is Scott Westerfeld’s Leviathan. This book retells the story of World War I from the point-of-view of Alek, teen son of murdered Archduke Ferdinand and Deryn, a 15 year old girl in the English air service, passing as a boy. But this is not any ordinary piece of ‘historical fiction’. This is the Darwinists, who breed their weapons in laboratories as monsters that fight in air, land and sea, versus the Clankers, whose steam powered machines are mechanical monsters of a different sort. The book is an absolute delight, featuring dry humor, cunning wit and heartfelt emotion. Although not a picture book, the novel does feature several extraordinary illustrations by Keith Thompson, many of which can be seen in the stunning trailer.

Does it feel like I am reading a book intended for a younger reader? Of course, but I understand a great many adults have enjoyed a book about a certain young, bespectacled wizard, whose story was also intended, primarily, for a younger reader. Leviathan is planned as the first of a trilogy and I, personally, can not wait for the next installment.

So there you have it – something a bit more innocent and nice, just as the holiday season gets underway in earnest. I would never have intentionally denied the child within, but I have, up til now, not celebrated it in quite this manner before. With the right book and movie, it is a wonderful feeling.

(The two sentences that make up the title of this post come from the works described. The first is the favorite expression of airman Deryn and the second is an example of how Mr. Fox swears.)