12/21/25
Recomendo – issue #493
12/18/25
Nomadico issue #184
Mann’s Pictorial Dictionary and Cyclopedia Vol. 1
National Library Publications
1960, 240 pages, 8.5 x 11 inches
What are the different parts of a knife called? How about the parts of a plough? Does anyone know what kind of mousetrap this is? What do Eskimo ice scrapers look like? I’ve got this chrysalis here — what kind of butterfly or moth will emerge from it? Can anyone show me the difference between a bath tap and a double flexible tube cock? How about a White Persian versus a Manx? How did the piano evolve? What kind of ship is that sailing out of the harbor?
All of these questions and a ridiculously large number more are answered in Mann’s Pictoral Dictionary and Cyclopedia, 240 pages of the most miscellaneous miscellany out there. Each page poses a not-entirely-naturally-worded question at the top, then answers it with illustrations. If we believe the foreword of this 1960 edition, the original book was found in a bombed-out library in England shortly after WWII. One illustration shows a woman’s hairstyle from 1920, while another list, “To Which Country in the British Empire Does That Badge Belong?” includes Kenya and Gold Cost which, if I know my British history (note: I do not), suggests the book was published sometime between 1920-1957.
I’d owned this book for several years before I realized that the pages are not random, they’re alphabetical (as long as you can figure out what category the page has been classified under, which is not always clear). This leads to delightful transitions like going from cat’s cradle games, to cattle breeds, to oak chairs, or from “What Bible Fruit is That?” to “Examples of British Game Birds.”
The British dial is set to 11. “What is the Name of That Sedge? The Chief Species Growing in Britain” is a two-page spread on grasses. “What is the Meaning of Those Badges Worn by the Boy Scouts?” asks another page. “Which British Owl is That?” — it turns out that “Ten owls are found wild in England, and by means of these drawings it will be possible to identify any owl that may be seen.” Identify your raptors with confidence, Britain! It’s out of print, but used copies can be found at the link above. – Sara Lorimer
Death is Stupid
by Anastasia Higginbotham
The Feminist Press at CUNY
2016, 64 pages, 8.5 x 8.6 x 0.5 inches
Death is Stupid does what so many grown-ups struggle to do with their kids. It tells them the truth that they already know. In collages of illustrations and dialogue, Anastasia Higginbotham walks readers through the confusion and questions that come when someone dies. Using two concurrent narratives, one that broadly voices and validates the feelings and fears kids have around death, the other focusing on a little boy whose grandmother has died, Higginbotham masterfully draws connections for young audiences and their grown-ups.
The story opens, gracefully straight-forward, “When a loved one dies people can say some stupid things.” The line stretches over the course of three pages in which the boy goes from surprised to sad as he hears, “I know exactly how you feel.“ “Don’t cry.” “Just be grateful for the time you had with her.” We follow him through the funeral and days after, through the rituals of grief and remembrance, through the fumbling adult attempts to explain and comfort. Through his experience and the narrator’s staccato interjections (“Dying is not a punishment. But it mostly doesn’t feel fair.”), readers are given the space to explore the well-intentioned answers and advice that grown-ups pat into the palms and shoulders of the kids they love, and the ways in which those hugs and kisses can land like blows.
Just as the boy tries out different ways to stay connected to his grandma while accepting her death, like caring for her garden, readers can explore suggested activities at the back of the book. Higginbotham offers templates for personalized remembering of both pets and people, simple instructions (“Read what they read. Make what they made.”), and the loveliest reflection on the power of speaking someone’s name. I know that when we are inevitably grieving a loved one’s death, I will be grateful to have this book on hand to read with my daughter. – Mk Smith Despres
Books That Belong On Paper first appeared on the web as Wink Books and was edited by Carla Sinclair. Sign up here to get the issues a week early in your inbox.
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