News that an unfinished manuscript by children's illustrator Richard Scarry is to be coloured up by his son and published this autumn may not immediately thrill the children of today, but it will provoke waves of nostalgia in those of us who grew up with his busy anthropomorphised beasts.
The book will feature one of Scarry's best-loved and most ubiquitous characters, the alpine-hatted, singly-shod Lowly Worm, who drives an apple and was probably the first worm in space. The unfinished book of sketches and text, devoted to the cheerful invertebrate, was discovered among Scarry's papers, and his son Huck, also an artist, is colouring and completing it. Appropriately, since its publication will form part of the 50th anniversary celebrations of The Best Word Book Ever, it will be published under the characteristically hyperbolic title Best Lowly Worm Book Ever.
Scarry, who died in 1994, published more than 300 picture books, which were distinguished by their bold, all-encompassing titles – Best Storybook Ever, Best Counting Book Ever, Cars and Trucks and Things Which Go. They've fascinated kids for more than 50 years with the minute detail of his smiling animal congregation's everyday American lives. Tow trucks, propeller planes, farms, supermarkets, manners, birthdays, burglaries, speedboats, road repairs, strawberries, school – Scarry caters effortlessly for young children's love of illustrated lists, avoiding dryness by incorporating random touches and humorous notes throughout. What he focuses on isn't grouped purely by adult logic – it's what a child sees and wants to see.
Featuring a huge anthropomorphised cast, with recurring characters such as Sergeant Murphy, traffic hound and pursuer of miscreants, and solid, cheerful, lederhosen-wearing Huckle Cat, Scarry's tales of mishap, derring-do, industry and shopping always feel deeply, richly safe. Some aspects of Busytown and its environs are slightly perturbing – a lot of traffic accidents happen, despite Sergeant Murphy's best efforts, and the bacon-proffering butchers inevitably seem to be rosy, possibly cannibal, pigs. But looking back at Scarry's most popular title, The Best Word Book Ever, which I had as a child, and revisiting the young bear's enormous breakfast – waffle, eggs, cold fruit juice, milk, hot cocoa, muffins and toast, although "He doesn't eat the toaster" – still makes me smile. To the small but dogged reader, Scarry's compendiums suggest that all knowledge is explicable and easily mastered, from the function of ailerons to the etiquette of a party. With a palette of vivid colours – saturated reds, suffused pinks and deep, gingery browns – he strikes an enticing balance between education and pure enjoyment.
I have a clear, fond memory, as an early reader, of flipping through a sectioned spiral-bound story book, Richard Scarry's Mix Or Match, which allowed you to cram a plump pig into Lowly's applemobile, or suit up a rascally gorilla in Sergeant Murphy's uniform. I think this was one of the first books which suggested to me the joy of learning, and then breaking, the rules of storytelling, mixing in a small frenzy to make a dadaist collage of heads, vehicles, clothes and professions. The ordered chaos of Scarry's populous, busy, smiling world felt like a very safe place to range and experiment as a child – long may it continue to do so.
